In that stillness, something fractured inside her—a small, painful crack that reverberated through her entire being. Everything they’d fought for, everything they might have had slipped through her fingers, and there was nothing left to do but watch it disappear.
The door slammed shut, leaving nothing but the cold finality of unspoken words.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Heavy pounding shatteredthe silence like cannon fire.
Isaac flinched, the sound driving a spike through the base of his skull. He’d left the shutters closed, lamps unlit, hoping to escape daylight—and the suffocating weight on his chest.
Another round of knocking came from the door, louder.
He groaned and dragged a hand over his face, the movement making his stomach lurch. His coat lay discarded on the floor, boots still muddy near the hearth. The nearly empty bottle on the table mocked him, a cruel reminder of the sleepless night behind him.
Isaac forced himself up, swaying as blood rushed to his head. He frowned as the scent of ash filled his lungs. Would the God-forsaken smell ever go away? He unlatched the door.
Christian stood on the narrow stoop, the morning sun at his back. A dark brow arched as he looked Isaac up and down. “You still look like hell. I’d have thought a night’s rest might’ve helped.”
Isaac stepped back without a word, letting his friend into the dim confines of the rented house. Christian’s gaze swept the room—past the rumpled coat on the floor, the half-dead hearth, settling on the bottle. His lips twitched. “You didn’t sleep at all, did you?”
Isaac exhaled slowly, his voice rough. “Glad you find this amusing.”
Christian shrugged and picked up the bottle, giving it a sniff before swirling the remaining finger’s worth of whiskey. “You’re the one who did this to yourself.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
With a heavy sigh, Christian turned to him. “You let her go. Stood there and watched him drag her away.”
Fire burned through Isaac’s veins and he staggered forward a step. “What else was I supposed to do? Pull a sword on the governor? Get myself court-martialed?”
Christian didn’t blink. “You could’ve fought harder.”
Isaac clenched his teeth. “I did.” Silence stretched between them before he added, voice hollow, “She’s better off without me.”
A snort answered him. “You don’t believe that.”
His gaze drifted to the coat on the floor. “Ido. Doesn’t make it hurt less.”
“Now what? You drink yourself to death in a rented room and call it duty?”
Isaac’s laugh came dry. “I call it knowing my place.”
Christian stepped closer, voice firm. “You love her.”
Isaac nodded once, no fight left. “And that’s exactly why I let her go.”
Admitting it felt like tearing out a part of himself, the rawness nearly bringing him to his knees. He saw her there again lying beside him, felt the warmth of her hand against his chest, the wild beat of his heart slamming beneath her palm. Her words had trembled on the air, fragile and fierce at the same time.I love you.Even now, his reply hovered eager on his lips, ready to leap free.“I love you, too.”But he hadn’t told her and now the moment was gone, carried off like smoke in the night, impossible to call back.
Christian was quiet for a moment. “So that’s it?”
Isaac blew out a breath. “What else is there? She’s free. From me. From all of this. Whether I like it or not.”
“Fate doesn’t give up so easily. Sometimes it tests you.”
“Fate?” A splintered laugh pressed from his chest. “The moment I realized I loved her… was the moment I had to give her up. I don’t want to hear a damn thing about fate.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “It was supposed to be simple, Christian. Orders. Strategy. The mission. Then she snuck into my life and everything I thought I knew—”
He broke off, the ache tightening in his chest.
