I study him for a beat. “How come you stopped me?”
His gaze sharpens, then he scoffs. “You were clearly out of your mind. I couldn’t risk you turning that gun on yourself next.”
He sucks in a deep breath. “Fuck, Dom, I saw you at the bar the night you brought her here. You were smiling.At her. I haven’t seen you smile like that since you were twenty. It freaked the brothers out. Freaked me out too. It didn’t take a genius to realize you’re in fucking love with her.”
I look down, exhale slowly. “You were right to stop me. Thanks for that. If you hadn’t…”
He nods once, jaw tight. “Now, you gonna tell me why the fuck you snapped? After a whole year?”
I grit my teeth. “It’s stupid. Doesn’t matter now.”
He doesn’t let it go. “It matters. I need you to tell me what happened this past year. You married her, Dom.” His eyes narrow, his voice drops. “And I wasn’t there.”
It hits like a truck. I hold his stare. “You would’ve shot her before we even made it to the courthouse.”
He crosses his arms, like I just insulted our mother. “No, I fucking wouldn’t have, asshole. I would’ve punched a wall,flipped a table, maybe taken a swing at you — sure. But kill her? Not if you didn’t want me to.”
A deep sigh starts growing in my chest, but I push it back down. “I just… I couldn’t tell you. You were drowning in your own shit with Temperance, and I was barely holding it together. And I wasn’t ready to admit why I was actually marrying her. Not even to myself.” I shake my head. “It is what it is. I’m sorry. If she ever talks to me again, maybe we’ll get a redo.”
He smirks, but there’s a sudden weariness in his eyes. “That’s some wild-ass wishful thinking, brother. But I get it.”
I scoff and push up from the chair. “Tell Mindfuck to get ready. If he runs his mouth while we’re on the job, I swear to God, I’ll shoot him in the ass.”
I leave him laughing behind me.
The house feels dead.
Not empty. Dead.
Because she’s not here.
And without her, every wall is rotting. The darkness crawls, eating away at every trace of the life we had between these walls. It’s suffocating. Poison in the air. Like this place was once something living — breathing and warm — and now it’s just a corpse, bloated with memories and regret.
I can’t stay here. I can’t sleep here. Not without her. I’ll keep seeing her in every shadow, every ray of light. I’ll go full-on crazy before I even have a chance to fight for her.
The pain’s crawling up my chest, spreading like a curse with every minute I spend here. My bones feel too heavy, my mind paralyzed. Every piece of me is frozen in agony.
The silence is louder than a war zone, and I’m standing right in the middle of it. Her presence lingers everywhere, on every surface, in every corner. The air smells like vanilla and sin, just like her.
I don’t know how to move inside these walls without her. Without the sound of her bare feet dragging across the floor in the mornings, like it was too much of an effort to lift them. Without finding the coffee mugs she used all over the house because she got distracted reading and forgot about them.
The couch still has the blanket she used last. Her favorite book is on the armrest, like she just went for a walk to the lake outside and she’ll be back anytime now.
I stare at that book like it might start speaking to me. Like it might tell me what she’s feeling. What she’s thinking. If she truly hates me now and there’s no going back. Or if she’s just hurting and needs to heal her heart first.
I have to get out of here. Now.
I only need a few things from this place. Something to make me feel closer to her even now, when she’s so far away from me. And something that I know will make her feel better. At least a little. A small piece of comfort in the ocean of despair that I threw her in.
I turn away before the grief chokes me.
For the first time in fourteen years, a place feels too big. And I feel too fucking small.
Adora
The first thing Ria does when we step through the door is kiss two fingers and press them gently to a photo on a shelf right beside the entrance.
“Hi, Mom. I brought visitors,” she whispers, soft and reverent.
