“So you get it, then. That in order to be on his side, you have to accept that you’ll never come first.” I’m talking to Velle more than anything with this dollop of wisdom. “Your wants, needs… They’ll all take a backseat to his. Because he is all of it.”
Okay, maybe now I’m talking to myself.
“You sound like you know this from personal experience…” He calls me out.
I lift the knife again, eyes set on the bird in barbed wire. “In a way.”
He taps on the door. “Why are you in there?”
Porque estoy muy estupido.
Sighing, I tell him, “Revenge.”
To my surprise, he says, “It’s… important.” But then he adds, “Right?”
“Yes,” I agree vehemently. “It is.”
He releases an audible breath, as if he’s relieved that I’m validating his thoughts.
As if maybe he too has been seeking revenge, letting it consume him, as it does, and regularly debating if it’s even fucking worth it.
“I heard once that the best revenge is living a healthy, happy life,” I ramble, recalling my conversation with Leah two years ago.
When I was basically falling apart, using every vice in the world to distract myself from the rage inside me.
“Angel, you’re killing yourself. So you tried, and it didn’t work. It’s time to move on. There’s no defeating the devil.”
My blood came alive with that one word.
“Fuck that. I’m fine. And one day, he’ll get what’s coming to him…”
“They say the best revenge is living a healthy, happy life…”
“What the hell does that mean?” Trevel grumbles, more or less the same words I said to Leah when she said that to me.
It draws a chuckle out of me. “I guess it’s like rising above, or something.” I repeat Leah’s response, “The best revenge is not needing it, you know?”
He goes quiet, like he’s thinking this over. “I suppose… But getting it just feelssobloody good.”
I snort. “You’re funny, bad guy. I hope you get your revenge.”
And maybe, by some twist of fate, I’ll finally get mine.
Something clicks, as if he’s trying to open the door. Of course it doesn’t work, and my stomach falls in foolish optimism.
“You too, stranger,” he whispers. “Stay safe.”
He’s darting away while I’m sighing, “Lo siento… para mi falla.”
I’m sorry I didn’t kill him when I had the chance…
Everything he does from here on out is my fault.
It’s storming out.
A big one. Dare I say, bigger than the last, when we lost power in the mansion, and everyone was fucking by candlelight.
I wonder if anyone’s fucking anymore, what with the lockdown…
