It’s been a week. Six days, to be precise, since we left the kingdom for good.
The entire week, I’ve done nothing but watch cartoons with August as we ate microwavable meals. To my surprise, the pantry was filled with readymade meals, so keeping August fed has been easy.
I’m glad Harvey has the same kitchen expertise as me. It took us a long time to get August on a proper diet, and I couldn’t let it all go to waste because of some menial heartbreak.
It was hard to explain why we were suddenly not living with the people he thought were family. I told him that the coven was looking for us, so we were playing a game of hide and seek to fool them. I know August isn’t as naïve as other kids his age, so he knows we got kicked out, but he is allowing me to fool him for both our sakes.
How he doesn’t ask about them should tell me enough, but I’d rather convince him to think this is because of the coven than blame the man he adopted as his father. That’s just one more heartbreak he doesn’t deserve.
Now, I spend all my time making sure August feels safe and loved. During the day, I put on a strong front. I smile and laugh, talk with August about his favorite cartoons and make animals of gold smoke to entertain him, but everything comes crashing down after he falls asleep.
Every night, I break down into violent body-shaking sobs when my son is sound asleep and doesn’t know his mama is burying her pain. I haven’t slept over five hours since we came here since my nightmares decided to make a comeback.
The lack of sleep started worrying August after the third night, but I promised him I was okay.
All I want August to worry about is what movie we should watch before bed. No matter how much he wants to help, I won’t burden my little boy with my mess. He is a kid, and I will do anything to make sure he gets to be one for as long as possible.
August finally fell asleep after another Disney movie, and I tucked him into my bed again, seeing he refused to sleep alone in a new place. It’s like we’re back to square one. Back to learning life all over again.
I’m tearing the kitchen apart trying to find where I last kept the coffee mug, and somehow, end up with a swollen forehead when the cupboard smacks me full force.Of course, that would happen.
The little composure I had shatters. The memory of a similar moment drags me back to a place that holds nothing but loneliness and hurt, and I break down completely. Sliding to the floor, I curl into a ball and muffle my cries behind my hands.
Looks like I’m done keeping it together for the day.
Everything sucks. Everything hurts, and my brain has never felt this foggy. My body is begging for some rest, andhe’s not here. He’s not here, and I’m banging my head on these stupid cupboards. It hurts so much, but it hurts more that he’s not here to put his hand between my forehead and the fucking cupboard, saving me from the pain and then calling me an idiot.
My fingers are bloody from picking on them because I miss his hand in mine and having his rings to fiddle with anxiously. I keep hitting my toes because I’m stumbling around theunfamiliar house, and he’s not here to guide me away from whatever I’m bumping into.
I can’t even breathe right when my anxiety gets too much because he’s not here demanding me to breathe for him.He’s not here, and I hate it.
These last six months with him made me addicted to his presence. I never thought I’d have to live my life without him. I want my Angel back because I’m even more broken and bruised without him, and I was just starting to heal.
He was the medicine for my soul, and I want— noneedhim to come back, but that’s the worst part, no matter how much I need him, no matter how much I can’t be without him,he doesn’t want me.
He doesn’t need me and maybe never did, and that’s something I have to learn to live with.
Now, I have to sit back and watch myself drown, slowly get worse and fall into the familiar hole of never-ending nothingness. I feel like one more push or even a slight nudge would shatter me, and I won’t be able to glue myself back together without him.
I don’t remember when I pass out, but I jolt awake when a blanket is pulled over me before a tiny body snuggles into my chest right here on the kitchen floor. A night filled with nightmares and crying is suddenly not an option with August here, so I lay there, stroking his head while he sleeps, holding me.
Looking down at the innocent little boy, I shove my heartbreak as far down as possible because this kid deserves a better parent than this broken woman.
Fuck, Anxo and his entire kingdom. I have what I need right here, and if he doesn’t want me—if he doesn’t want us—then that’s his loss. I will survive bloody toes and blue foreheads, but he won’t survive his mate hating his existence.
I will hold on to this anger and betrayal until I piece myself back together, and take care of Visha for good. After that, I will close the chapter in my book where my past is, including Anxo and every memory I have of him.
Fuck it all to purgatory.
CHAPTER 38
Traitors among us
Anxo
Six nights ago.
It’s funny how one night can change your life for the worse. I was terrified out of my mind as I carried my sweetheart to the medical wing and sat beside her while the healers treated her.
