He closes his eyes.
"My mother sat with him," he continues. "For all four days. Watching him deteriorate. And on the fifth night, she?—"
He stops.
I feel my heart pounding in my ears.
"She what?" I ask without thinking.
"She ended it. She gave him an overdose of morphine."
My hand flies to my mouth.
"She killed him," Octavian says, and now his body relaxes. "And then she and Nicolae falsified the records. Made it look like he died from his injuries. Natural causes."
"Oh my God," I say.
"I never knew any of this. Not until she killed herself."
My stomach drops.
"I was the one who found her," he says, voice hollow. "She left a letter. Said she couldn't carry the guilt anymore. That she didn't regret saving my brother, but she couldn't live in a world without him and wanted to make it look like she died naturally. Nicolae would help, just like he helped with my brother."
I whisper, "So Nicolae used that to control you."
"In the village we come from, in her community, suicide is probably the worst thing you can do. Next to murder. And she did both," he says and sighs. "If word got out," he continues, "she'd be remembered as a murderer and a coward. Her grave would be defiled along with my brother's. The whole family would be shamed. I don't care about my reputation, but hers? My brother's? I've spent my whole life trying to protect their names. They're all I had in this world."
He looks up at me, his eyes desperate.
"I wanted people to be proud to have known them. Not ashamed."
My throat tightens, tears streaming down my face.
"I've protected their reputation since I can remember. It's my identity. Who I am. It's the one thing I can control. The one thing I can do."
He pauses.
"But I realize now I can't. I was wrong. I failed you. Just like I failed my brother. Just like I failed my mother."
I stare at him, my vision blurring with tears.
"I was trying to protect you and save you," he says desperately. "I know how that sounds. I know it's fucked up. But I thought, God, I thought I could do both."
I move toward him slowly. "And you didn't think to tell me any of this? To give me the choice to stand beside you?"
"I didn't want you to carry it."
"You don't get to make those choices for me," I say, my voice rising. "You don't get to decide what I can handle or do."
I wipe my face roughly, my hands shaking.
"Dammit, Octavian," I say, brushing the hair out of my face. "I don't know what the hell I'm going to do with you," I say, my voice raw. "How do I trust you again?"
Octavian looks at me, his eyes filled with so much pain it nearly breaks me.
"If you let me live," he says, "I'll spend every day proving to you that you can. Proving that I'd die for you."
He pauses, his voice dropping.
