My sinking stomach bottoms out. “Oh.”
“You should get everything you want, Aurelia.” Fox says flatly, his gaze shifting to a faraway point over my shoulder. “Don’t let me stop you from finding what you need.”
I blink and open my mouth, then close it again. Wait a minute, what?
“No, I don’t think you understand,” I say slowly, battling with the tiny spark of hope now growing in the empty pit of my stomach. “Sorry, I’m not saying this right at all. I mean, I want more from this,” I wave my hand between us. “More fromyou. I don’t want to just show up sometimes to fuck anymore, I want…”
“More,” he finishes for me, tone still flat.
“Exactly.”
His gaze shifts from over my shoulder back to my face, and for a second I see that same unreadable expression that he wore in the hallway right before he kissed me. My stomach swells, and I rise on my knees, meaning to close the distance between us.
And then, all too quickly, it ends.
“I can’t.” he says, gaze returning to the wall behind me. “I can’t give you more.”
The growing spark of hope inside me snuffs out, leaving only emptiness behind.
“Oh,” I hear myself say again, my voice sounding strangely warped as if from a thousand miles away. “Oh, alright. Well, thank you for telling me.”
“It’s not—” he starts and breaks off, letting out a huff of breath. His eyebrows pull low and he almost looks angry as he tries again to explain. “If I could, I?—”
I jump to my feet. “No, it’s alright. I’m sorry I mentioned it.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, dragging a frustrated hand through his hair.
“Don’t be,” I say on a breath, feeling slightly hysterical as if I might start laughing—or crying—at any moment. “Don’t be. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“We—I should never have?—”
“No, stop,” I interrupt. “I know what you’re going to say, but don’t. It’s not as if I was tricked into this, I always knew exactly what we were doing and I was fine with that until…um, recently, I suppose. It’s really fine, though. Probably better that things end this way, honestly. For obvious reasons, I don’t think I’ll be coming to your room anymore.”
He nods once, but says nothing.
Usually, I have no trouble at all interpreting his silences, but this time I have no idea what he’s thinking…which is probably for the best.
“Right,” I say briskly, standing up to leave.
“Well, I think I’ll go to bed. If possible, please try to blame this on the wine, alright? I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Aurelia!”
I flinch as Fox calls after me. “No, please don’t apologize again,” I say, keeping my face turned toward the door so he won’t see the tears now brimming in my eyes. “You don’t need to apologize for not loving me.”
I walk out of the room, across the entrance hall, and up the wide, sweeping staircase. On the second landing, I jump at the sound of a dull thud and crack of plaster from down below, as if Fox drove his fist into the wall.
I don’t turn back, quickly climbing the spiral staircase and gripping the railing to steady myself. The stone walls blur from a combination of wine and tears. Finally, I reach my tower and the door bangs against the wall as I stumble inside.
Eugene’s claws click frantically across the floor, and he winds between my ankles, chirping for attention. I step over him, andcollapse against my workbench, pressing the heels of my palms against my eyes until stars bloom in the darkness.
I suck in a shaking breath, trying not to cry.
I’ve been alone practically my whole life, but I’ve never felt lonelier than I do right now. Fox’s words replay in my mind, each syllable a knife twist:“If that’s what you want then you should go find it.”
What kills me is that he’s right. My entire life I’ve wanted to go on an adventure, but for almost two years now I’ve stayed put…and if I’m honest with myself, a large part of that was because of Fox. Clearly, I didn’t need to bother, because he didn’t hesitate to encourage me to leave. And why shouldn’t I?
All these months of training to defend myself, all those spells and potions I learned, all the maps I’ve collected and stories I’ve memorized—what was it all for? I’ve always known I was preparing for the day I’d finally walk away from Storia.
