I dropped my hand and stared at it as if it was on fire. I could smell it burning just like the ashes of what I’d almost had.
And lost.
Always lost.
“You think the ends justifies the means. If you save Margo, it’s worth the loss of you.”
“How could I do anything else?” I asked helplessly. “If not for me, she wouldn’t have been in that situation in the first place.”
“I don’t know everything about that situation, and I may never know it. Gotta admit I really don’t want to hear all the details about how far you fell. How little you cared about yourself that you’d mortgage your future—and your brother’s and his wife’s.” Zoe’s throat moved as she swallowed. “And their child’s.”
“I didn’t have a clue about any of that. I swear to you.”
“I know you didn’t. But that isn’t a get out of jail card. You were playing with people’s lives, just as they played with yours. You were just their pawn.”
Shame burned up my spine and I opened the bottle of vodka so I couldn’t feel the singe as it sheared straight through to the bone. I took a long drink and wiped my mouth, then did it again.
Zoe simply walked away.
I didn’t follow. Like the coward I was—the pawn—I stood in her small kitchen and drank until the worst of the pain filling my head dulled enough for me to function.
To get through this conversation that would kill the only thing I loved.
If it wasn’t dead already.
After I’d cleared a third of the bottle, I left the glass behind and walked into the living room, still clutching my vodka. The exhaustion and fear from the past few days was hammering at the base of my skull and I swayed on my feet.
She didn’t see me. She faced away from me where she sat, looking so small and burdened, on the sofa.
“If you thought I’d fight you on this, you’re wrong.” My words were a little slurred, though that could have been from earlier combined with just enough alcohol to make everything fuzz out of focus.
If I hadn’t been so bone-deep tired, it wouldn’t have affected me so. Or if I’d eaten…well, anything. My stomach was hollow, my head and chest too full.
She let out a brittle laugh and covered her face with her hands. “Of course you won’t fight me. Because that’s not what you do. You lay down and let them drag you under. Isn’t that what—” She stopped and let her hands fall away, her face blanching of color.
“Isn’t that what what?” I stared at her, not understanding, until her expression told me the direction of her thoughts. “Isn’t that what my burning myself is about? Or my trying to end it all?”
“Ian, no.” She rose. “I have no right to judge. What you’ve lived through is beyond my scope.”
“But you love me. Loved,” I adjusted quickly as she averted her eyes. “Even with all our differences, we found a way to matter to each other. God, Zoe, you matter to me. So much more than I ever mattered to myself.” I tipped the bottle to my mouth, barely noticing as vodka splashed my shirt. “You’re right. I didn’t fight. Oh, I did early on. But eventually, I grew weary and decided it was easier to submit. The less of a struggle, the less it hurts. Except you know what? It fucking hurts. I fucking hurt.”
“You hurt because you can’t make yourself not feel. It’s not possible. You’re so strong and vibrant and with every bit of yourself you shut down, you were slowly killing yourself. As surely as if you’d bled out.” Tears smeared her cheeks as she gripped my shirt, shaking me as if she could make me see.
But I already did. At least I was beginning to.
Through it all, there was Zoe. She’d been the beginning of a new life for me. A reason to see myself as more. To start to believe it deep down. Maybe that spark was just a flicker, but it was real and it existed.
Because of her.
“I’m bleeding out right now. But I’m still on my feet. I’m still here.” Saying the words was a strengthener, infusing my voice with a power it shouldn’t have had. Not when it was as broken as the rest of me. “I’m not laying down anymore.”
She pressed her face to my chest, her shoulders shaking. She was still holding on to me despite everything.
At least for this last moment, she was still mine.
I cupped her cheek with fingers that weren’t steady and eased her back. “Once more. Please. I need to carry your memory with me.”
Her wet amber eyes beseeched me. As if she was asking me not to make her do this. To make it easier for her to break free.