She’s packing. She’s leaving. The very thought of it feels like a gut punch, but I can’t let her see how much it hurts. I have to keep up the act. I have to make her believe every word I’ve said to her, every icy dismissal, every layer of cold indifference I’ve wrapped myself in.
I can hear her breathing, the sound of her trying to hold back tears, and it breaks me, piece by piece, but I won’t give in. I can’t.
I don’t want to look at her, but I force myself to, just for a second. Just to make sure she knows this is real, that I’m not playing some cruel game. Her eyes are red-rimmed, her lips trembling, and I feel a pang of something inside me that I don’t recognize—something desperate, something dangerous. But I shove it down, bury it as deep as I can.
“Dove,” I say, my voice colder than I intend. I don’t know if I can do this, if I can watch her walk out of here and never come back, but I have to. “There’s a car waiting outside for you.”
The words taste like ash on my tongue, but I don’t let them falter. I keep my gaze fixed on hers, even though the sight of her in such pain is almost more than I can bear.
Her hand falters on the strap of her bag, and she looks at me, really looks at me, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Ashton… please…” Her voice breaks, a quiet plea that slices through the air, and I can see the way she’s fighting to hold herself together, to not completely unravel in front of me. I see it in the trembling of her lips, in the way her body is tight with the effort to not fall apart.
She steps closer, her voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t do this. Please. Don’t make me leave you.”
The desperation in her voice, the raw need, makes my chest tighten, but I don’t let it show. I can’t.
“You don’t have a choice,” I mutter, my voice dark and cutting, trying to keep the tremor of emotion out of it. “I’ve made up my mind. It’s over, Dove. You don’t belong here.”
Her face crumples, and the tears she’s been holding back finally break free, spilling down her cheeks in a steady stream. My eyes follow the path of each tear as if they’re burning me, leaving marks on my soul that I can’t erase. But I don’t move, don’t reach out to comfort her. I can’t.
“No… Ashton, please,” she pleads, her voice breaking. “I don’t want to go. I don’t want to leave you.”
Her words hit me like a freight train, and for a moment, I almost give in. Almost. But I know that if I do, if I let her stay, she’ll never be safe. Lilith will come for her. Lilith will tear us apart. And I can’t letthat happen.
“You’re just a toy, Dove,” I tell her, each word cold and sharp, like a slap across her face. I can see the pain in her eyes, but I can’t stop myself. “That’s all you ever were to me. A pretty little distraction, something to pass the time. I never wanted you. I just wanted to break you.”
She takes a step back, her hands shaking as if she can’t believe the words coming out of my mouth. Her eyes search mine, looking for the truth, but all she’ll find is a cold, empty shell of the man who once wanted her.
I push it further, each word like a blade. “You’re nothing. You mean nothing. I don’t need you. I don’t want you. You’re just a game to me.”
Her breath hitches, and for a moment, she looks like she’s going to collapse. She blinks, as if trying to clear away the tears, but they keep coming, unstoppable now, and I know I’ve broken her. And I hate myself for it. I hate myself for making her believe this is what she is to me, for making her feel like she’s nothing.
But I can’t stop. I can’t let her see the truth. Because if she does, she’ll never leave. And I need her to leave. For her own good.
“Go,” I whisper, the word so quiet it almost doesn’t sound like me. “Before it gets worse.”
Her eyes meet mine one last time, and for the briefest moment, I see the love she has for me, the trust. And it rips me apart. But I don’t show it. I can’t.
With one last broken sob, she turns and walks away, the sound of her footsteps echoing in the silence. And I feel like I’ve just lost everything.
But I don’t let her see the cracks forming in my armor. I don’t let her see the devastation I’m hiding behind this cold, cruel facade.
I’ve done what I had to do. I’ve made her believe she doesn’t belong here. That she doesn’t belong with me.
And yet, as the door closes behind her, I realize I’ve never been more alone in my life.
The door clicks shutbehind her with a sound that echoes in the pit of my stomach. I stand there, frozen, eyes locked on Dove as she walks to the car. Her shoulders are slumped, her back to me, each step further from me, each movement a knife twisting deeper into my chest. I can see her hands trembling, her grip tight on her bag, as if she’s holding onto something—anything—that could keep her from falling apart.
The car sits idling in the driveway, its engine a quiet hum in the stillness of the morning. I can’t tear my eyes away as she climbs into the backseat, her figure small and broken against the black leather interior. Her eyes don’t look back at me. She won’t. Not now. I know that’s the last time I’ll ever see her like this—vulnerable, trusting, full of something I can never return.
The door to the car closes with a soft thud, and I stand there in the same spot, staring. Staring at the emptiness she’s left in the wake of her departure. I want to call out to her. To run after her. To tell her everything I’ve kept buried deep inside of me. But I know it’s too late. She’s already gone.
You broke her.
The thought slams into me like a sledgehammer, and the pain rips through me, sharp and raw, impossible to ignore. My chest tightens as if someone’s wrapped a vise around my heart, squeezing tighter with each passing second. I should have never done this. I should have never let her in.
But the truth is, I never had a choice. Not with her. Not when she looked at me with those wide, trusting eyes and made me feel something other than the emptiness I’ve lived with for years.
I push away the thoughts of her soft laughter, of the way she made the whole house feel like home, like warmth. I push it all away because if I let myself dwell on it, I’ll lose myself. And I can’t afford to lose myself, not now. Not when there’s so much at stake.
