“Please, Amy.Don’t pretend you give a shit if I live or die.”
“You’re right,” I say, my voice void of emotion.
His eyes snap to my face in surprise.
“The woman who loved you is gone, James.But my humanity isn’t.No one deserves to be in the kind of pain you’re in.On the phone, you… you sounded deeply unhappy.Trapped.”
His body tenses, his mask of cynical arrogance slamming back into place.“Me?Trapped?”He lets out a sharp, incredulous huff.“Please.I’m James fucking Devlin.People would kill to have my life.”
For the first time, looking at him, I see a man desperately trying to convince himself.
I let out a sad sigh.
Some people will forever choose to stay in the prison they know.
“For what it’s worth,” I say calmly, “you deserve more than this superficial show you call a life.You don’t have to repeat your parents’ story.You don’t have to settle for a relationship like theirs.You can choose something real.”
He stares at me, his jaw tight, a storm of confusion and anger in his eyes.
“Most of the people you’re trying so hard to impress aren’t even paying attention,” I continue.“There’s no shame in changing, James.In starting over.Wanting something better for yourself.”
His cynicism creeps back.“Is that what your lawyer beau taught you?”
I hold his gaze for a moment, then let out a disappointed, humorless laugh.
Reaching into my purse, I pull out the small envelope and hold it out to him.
“What’s this?”he asks, taking it.He turns it over in his hand but doesn’t bother to open it.
“Thank you for the loan.”I give a meaningful nod toward the envelope.“It changed my life.Truly.”I press my lips into a thin line.“Maybe now it can change yours.It’s enough for a fresh start, James.Far away from your family and their controlling ways.A chance to live life on your own terms, for a change.”
James just looks down at the envelope in his hands, a muscle in his jaw jumping violently.
“Oh.”I reach into my purse and pull out the silver key.“This is yours.”I place it on his bedside table.
His eyes drift from the key to my face.His expression is a battlefield of emotions, none of them victorious.
“Goodbye, James.”I turn and walk out, an immense weight lifting from my chest.
Back in the hallway, the first thing I see is Matthew leaning against the opposite wall, his expression a mask of tense anticipation.The second our eyes meet, the composure I fought so hard to maintain starts to break.
I can’t speak right now.
I surge forward, grab his hand, and start pulling him down the quiet corridor, my steps fast and urgent.
“Amy?”he asks, his voice full of confusion as he easily keeps pace with me.
I don’t reply.I can’t.
I just keep walking, past the nurse’s station, my focus locked on the elevator bank ahead.
We stand there waiting, and I can feel the tremors starting in my hands.My breathing becomes shallow, my chest tight.I start to gulp in air, unable to get enough.
The elevator finally arrives.
The moment the doors slide shut, Matthew turns to me, his face etched with deep concern.“Did something go wrong in there?”
The doors open onto the main floor, and I speed-walk out, past the information desk and through the glass doors, propelled by the whirlwind inside me.
