“Yes, I’m okay because I know it was the right decision.”
“You do?” There was a hint of skepticism in his voice.
I nodded. “I’ve been denying it for weeks now because…just because.” I didn’t want to crack the bars of my heart open enough to explain how I’d been clinging to the only thing left in my life that resembled thebefore. Everything had changed when I was gone. My friends had grown, my family had fallen apart—I’d wanted one thing to remain.
I’d wanted her to remain.
But that was out of my control.
“I never would have brought it up.” I leaned against the back of the couch, watching the flames in the grate burn higher. “I would have kept fighting.”
“Maybe you weren’t fightingforanything,” Cyph hedged. “It seems you were fighting against it.”
“Fuck.” I blew out a breath, stuffing my hands in my pockets and nudging the toe of my boot against the wall. “I hate you sometimes.”
He huffed a laugh. “I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re right.” I waved off the apology and grabbed my empty glass, falling onto the couch opposite his, leaning forward and bracing my elbows on my knees. “I know you’re right and that’s why I’m okay. Partially.”
“But the other part?”
“That half of me was always hers. Before I left…well, shit, you know how we were. I lived and breathed for her.” And fuck if that half didn’t hurt like I’d been flayed open. “I don’t know what to do with it now. I gave up everything, sacrificed so much for her.”
“So did she. Ophelia was a wreck for two years when you were gone. Constantly fighting with everyone, drowning her sorrows in drinks, or holing up to find answers. She changed. The way you two were…it was unhealthy.” He leaned forward, poured a little bit more into my glass. “I’m not trying to be an ass, Mali, but you two both sacrificed a lot for each other. To the point where you couldn’t stand on your own.” He lifted his glass to me. “That half that was hers…it belongs to you now, brother. You have to live for yourself before you can live for anyone else.”
Live for myself. I wasn’t sure I knew how to do that. How to identify what I wanted and just…take it. How to outrun my past.
I dragged a hand through my hair. “I guess I’ll have to figure it out.”
“I have faith in you.” That made one of us. Inside, I was so twisted by the torment I’d suffered mentally, physically, and emotionally that I’d lost hope of recovering.
“Can I ask…” Cyph’s eyes went to my chest.
“I don’t know,” I sighed. I placed a hand over the Bind. It had echoed with silence since I left Ophelia. I worried what she was doing now. How she was coping. I hated her being alone, and thanks to the distance in the Bind, I couldn’t judge any of her emotions.
“It never worked right,” I explained. Cyph lifted a brow. “We always claimed it was because I left so soon after they’d been inked, but we’ve been together for over a month now and…it still didn’t work.”
“You’ve been fighting,” Cyph offered, but his voice lacked conviction. He ran a hand over the back of his neck—his Bond.
“It was more than that.” Like the magic in the ink knew what was coming. “But I don’t really know what we can do about it.” Maybe I’d talk to Marxian once I recovered from the shock. The artist might know how to undo the tattoo. Though, I had to admit, I’d never heard of it being done. Mystique tattoos operated at a soul level. They bound those who had them for eternity. Unless we could find a way to undo it, Ophelia and I were forever tethered through the Bind.
“Spirits,” I groaned, shoving the heels of my hands into my eyes. “Why the fuck would fate allow us to tie ourselves together like this if only to rip us apart?”
Cypherion considered. “There’s a reason for everything.”
“Seems cruel,” I scoffed.
“I never said it wasn’t.”
We fell into a contemplative silence. I was grateful—surprised—that Cyph had been alone when I knocked on his door. It appeared the fates did look out for me occasionally.
“Can I ask one more thing?” He fidgeted with his glass, and I sat up straighter, nodding. “Does this decision have anything to do with T?—”
“No,” I interrupted, my fingers curving around my glass. “No, it doesn’t. This wasonlyabout us.”
His lips thinned. “I had to be sure.”
“I understand.” I sipped my drink. “To be honest, I don’t think that could have been farther from her mind.”
