I ignore him and take a big sip.
The whiskey doesn’t even burn as it goes down my throat. A pleasant haze wraps around my mind, softening the harsh edges of reality. I put the glass down and close my eyes, hoping to sink into that haze, but instead, I see Blake standing by the front door, looking at me with those haunting blue eyes, right before she walks out.
Letting her go was the right thing to do. I had to let her choose, to let her decide what kind of a life she wants for herself. It was probably the most selfless act of my entire miserable existence.
But it feels like I let my heart walk out the door with her, leaving nothing but a broken husk inside my chest.
I hear Alessio get to his feet and walk away.
Asshole. He's threatened to kill me on more than one occasion, but when I actually want him to do it, he fucking leaves.
Pressing the heels of my palms against my forehead, I let out a groan.
I thought I knew heartbreak, but this feels even worse than the agony I felt when I drove Blake from Missouri to Vegas and then to New York. She wanted nothing to do with me then, but at least she was with me. Her hurt and anger dimmed my world, but it didn’t drain it of color the way her absence does now. Everything feels gray, empty.
“Drink this.” Something clanks against the coffee table.
I crack one eye open. Alessio brought me water.
“Did you spike it with arsenic?”
“You have a morbid sense of humor.”
“I thought you of all people might appreciate it.” I gulp half the glass down. Maybe if I drink it, he’ll finally leave.
“Do you have someone I can call? Someone who could…fix this?”
“It’s unfixable.”
Alessio sighs. “I’ll have to talk to Dad about it. He won’t be happy you didn’t show up on day one.”
“I don’t—“
“Give a fuck. I know.” He rubs his palm over his head, looking befuddled. “This is why I don’t have friends. People are too complicated.”
“You seem to know how to crack ‘em well.”
“They’re only simple when their life is at stake. Everyone just wants to survive.”
“Not me.”
“Hence the confusion,” he mutters.
I finish the water, put the glass back down, and curl up on the sofa. I don’t want to talk anymore. I don’t want to think anymore. I just want darkness to claim me so that I don’t feel anything.
Just when I’m about to cross over the line into unconsciousness, I feel someone drape a blanket over me.
“Get up.”
Something nudges against my leg. I ignore it.
“Nero, get up.”
“Mmm, leave me alone.” I lift my leg onto whatever surface I’m currently lying on and turn on my side, away from the person making all that noise.
It works. I’m left alone. Slowly, I’m pulled back into the dark—
WHOOSH.
