“Julia, come on.” He’s half-laughing with red-rimmed eyes, like any second this horrible prank will end. “Julia. You and me.”
I’m desperate to collapse into him, to say come what may. But it isn’t just me. It’s Lincoln. Doesn’t he see that his father will always have the upper hand? Doesn’t he see that his brother is never going to be safe? Jared, Dylan, Febin, and Kate. They are a part of this too. Their families. Their livelihood. I refuse to be the reason for the destruction of everything he has built.
I can’t find the words to hurt him to push him away, to make him think I used him. But he would see through that. He’s smart enough to know that everything we felt was real. I hope. Lying to him may be the best thing to do to make sure he’ll let me go, but I can’t hurt him. I love him too much. I search for a different truth.
“You were fine before I showed up. You’ll be fine after I leave.”
His head is shaking. Tears fill his eyes. “No. I won’t.” His head keeps shaking. He sniffs and a tear falls. Behind us, his father scoffs in disgust. Nathaniel ignores him and grabs my hands. He squeezes them but I remain as limp as a dead fish. “You said we are a team. I trusted that. You trust me. We can figure this out.”
I couldn’t let Nathaniel lose any more people. I’m dangerous. He will lose his team if I stay. He will lose Lincoln. No court would choose a household with someone who has my background over William’s. There’s no chance. Unless I leave.
I feel all the eyes in the room on us. He has pulled me between his knees but I’m numb. There is no heat. No growing power. Just icy defeat.
He lowers his voice and brings his face inches from mine. His beautiful eyes stare into me, pleading. “Tell them you didn’t break the equipment. You didn’t do this. Please, I can’t lose you.”
This must be what dying feels like. This ache from within feels like my heart is actually shutting down.
“She has made her choice,” William says roughly from behind me. “It’s bad enough that she played you. If you keep this up nobody will ever work with you again.”
It’s the push I need. A simple reminder. I slide the chair back, breaking Nathaniel’s hold on me. “I was always going to leave,” I say. “I’m dangerous.” I don’t recognize my own voice.
His eyes shut. I see the exact moment he lets go. He understands. Later, in time, he will forgive me. He will understand it is all for the greater good. His life, his work, his team, they are destined for greatness.
Another thought pops into my head. Another way to say the truth. “I don’t regret a thing.” I hope he understands.
I don’t regret our time together. I love him. I will never stop loving him. If I tell him that now, he won’t let me leave. I send a final burst of heat his way with effort. I feel like I have nothing to give. This hollow feeling has taken everything from me.
Ken scoffs loudly. He has interpreted my comment as I thought he would. Another confession of guilt.
I was always supposed to leave, I remind myself. It was my fault for ever letting myself have hope, for believing that I could be more than I am.
With that, William leads me out of the room. I don’t say goodbye to any of the team. I won’t be able to handle how they look at me. I can’t fathom the betrayal in their hearts after everything they did for me, how they took me in.
I’m not in handcuffs but I might as well be as Will leads me toward the exit. We pass my office when a flash of green catches my gaze. It’s Ferngully, her stem a bright green and budding new leaves forming. It feels cruel to understand that she will continue to thrive without me.
Just like everything else I care about.
William brings me to a car that looks just like the one he gifted Lincoln. I numbly fall into the passenger seat. My body is disassociated from my mind. I’m watching this happen like it’s a bad dream—the sort of dream where the tsunami wave is coming and I can’t do anything about it. I lower my head to the window, defeated, as he drives off the base. I went from having a family and friends like I always dreamed of, only to lose it all. And who do I have to blame but myself?
I chose to stay.
Don’t go pitying yourself.
Grandma’s Sue voice comes through so loud and clear, I sit upright. It’s enough to get the blood flowing again, shake off the numbing sadness. It’s enough to get me to pay attention to what is happening.
That’s when I realize that we’ve left town. He must have driven past the police station a mile back and I missed it. We’re heading up the mountain.
And I’m in more danger than I ever imagined.
