The sickness in my soul. The obsession. The depths I’ll go for my revenge over my family’s deaths.
I bite my cheek, stopping myself from pressing the kill-switch button to wipe away the damning evidence in the room.
I’m tempted. So very tempted. One little press and I can keep on pretending.
I can make every day feel like Christmas for her. I can feed her chocolate cake I don’t eat because I can’t deal with the sweetness reminding me of that tragic day.
I can cradle her in my arms at night like we’ve been doing since she learned what happened to my family.
We’ll read books in the library together, watch old movies in bed until we fall asleep. I’ll make sweet love to her in the middle of the night and ignore the violence and bloodshed in my real life.
I can pretend this is forever, that the monster inside me is enough.
That she’ll stay with me despite who I’ve become.
But no. Maybe she’s right. Maybe there’s still a flicker of Kian inside my ruined soul.
Because she deserves a choice.
If she leaves me after this, good. Because I’m not strong enough to leave her.
Cece nuzzles Lana’s arm. Myzemërburies her nose in the calico’s fur.
My heart squeezes. Useless images of an alternate reality appear behind my eyelids. Me seeing my patients at a vet clinic. Lana playing with the animals, doing whatever her heart desires because that’s all I need.
For her to be happy.
But that future belongs to Kian Leste.
Elias Kent doesn’t wallow in the past or live with regrets, because I’m damn good at what I do now.
I swallow the growing lump in my throat and reach for a button hidden beneath the top drawer’s false bottom.
I press it.
She freezes. She’s surprised.
I draw a stiff inhale and look at the screen. As expected, she heard the click of the door unlocking.
The unbreakable mystery room where all the ugliness lies.
The scar on my cheek throbs. My rib cage tightens as I watch her set the cat down and creep forward, her hand pressed to her chest.
She grips the doorknob and hesitates, as if she knows she might not like what’s hiding inside.
Open it, Lana. Find out who you really married.
Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, she straightens. My pulse kicks at the fierceness in her eyes.
That’s my girl.
Then she twists the knob and takes a step inside.
She gasps.
Cece meows and digs her claws into my foot, clearly unhappy I’m ignoring her.
But I can’t help it.
