Even if I’ll be all alone again.
Something I now realize has become my greatest fear.
It only takes an hour to pack up my clothes and the items I refuse to leave behind, which leaves me ample time to write a letter to Camilla, explaining all the reasons I can’t stay, but I wish I could.
Guilt eats away at me no matter how much I try to reason with myself that she doesn’t need me anymore. She has her guys, and they have a beautiful life ahead of them.
I tear up the first three attempts, the words not feeling adequate as I explain what an honor it has been to be everything she needed all these years.
Eventually I realize there aren’t words to describe how grateful I am to have been part of her life and how she put me back together without ever realizing she was doing it. The letter flows onto the page, and before I know it, I’m letting her know I’ll get in touch once I find somewhere safe to settle.
Tears roll down my cheeks as I seal the envelope and write her name in the center of the blank space.
She deserves so much more than a measly letter, but it’s all I can give her under the circumstances.
Leaving it on the edge of the perfectly made bed, I throw my backpack over my shoulder and clutch my overnight bag in my left hand before doing one final look over the room.
I’ve already pulled the cash I had stashed around the room from its hiding places, and it’s safely tucked in a couple of pairs of socks in the bottom of my bag, but I do a mental check over to ensure I didn’t miss anything.
I’m stalling. I know myself well enough to know that, but I can’t help it. This part of my life is just as significant as the first eighteen years, and it’s just as hard to say goodbye.
At least this time I don’t have any fresh trauma from watching my parents be tortured and killed, or from staring into the eye of a boy I once loved as he helped his father dismantle my entire life in front of my eyes.
The love I had for Damon was always complicated. It wasn’t easy like it was with Ronan. It was just as hard as the man himself, just as complex as our story had always been.
For years it felt like a dirty little secret, a betrayal to Ronan. But now that I’m grown and I’ve watched Camilla fall head over heels for four men, I realize it’s possible to love more than one person. It’s messy, and some days are hard, but the heart is built to love. The number of people you allow into the organ that keeps your blood pumping just depends on you.
I wish I’d known that then.
I wish I’d known the guilt I felt rumbling in my chest every time my eyes met Damon’s was misplaced.
But I was a kid, we all were.
How could we know that love looks different for everyone?
Just the thought of the brothers has my chest aching.
No matter how hard I’ve tried, I’ve never stopped missing them. Not the ruthless men they are today, but the kids they were when the three of us were inseparable. When responsibility to the Lombardi name meant nothing and blood had never coated our hands.
When the love we had for one another was pure and untainted.
Forcing the thought from my mind, I slip into the hallway and take the side stairs to the main level. It took a few years, but I know this place like the back of my hand, and that makes it easier to sneak down to the garage without being seen.
There are a few cameras I avoid, not wanting Ryker to know what I’m doing on the off chance he’s watching the feed.
He probably thinks his warning was enough to keep me tucked up in bed tonight, but I have to leave. No matter how desperate I am to stay, it’s just not an option.
I weave through the lower-level hallways, and soon I’m standing beside my car, my heart thudding in my chest as I allow the gravity of the situation to wash over me.
Once I leave these grounds, I’ll never be back again.
The life I’ve lived within these walls is over, and once again I have to start over.
I press my eyes closed and drag in an unsteady breath, steeling myself for everything that comes next before slipping behind the wheel and throwing my bags onto the passenger seat just in case I have to make a quick escape.
All the lessons I learned a decade ago that I’d hoped to never need again are loud in the back of my mind.
Perhaps I was naive to think I’d be able to avoid my past forever, or maybe it was just wishful thinking.
