Page 49 of A Sweet Destruction

Right.

“Thank you,” I muttered as kindly as I could, bracing myself to confront the family I’d wished for so many years could have been mine.

✦

By the time the families said their tearful goodbyes, complete with a propaganda-filled speech so ridiculous it threatened to make my ears bleed, I was exhausted.

Physically, from the Cross. That trampled-by-horses feeling didn’t go away for a day or so.

Mentally, from the pain of seeing Ford smiling and happy. Of feeling the comfort of Sophie’s friendship, somehow deep and real despite so few interactions. Of hearing Adam and Annie call me Auntie Esme, like I was their blood relative.

Adam had thanked me again for his new backpack before he left. I crouched down to give him a hug, if not to ignore the burning sensation of Ford’s attention.

I was not excited for that conversation, yet another humiliation. More proof that not only had the Bond been alive, but I’d been a hopeless servant to it.

I never told you to do that, the Bond snapped defensively.

I didn’t have the energy to craft a counterargument.

Given the crowd, there was no good way to flee while everyone left, forcing me to watch Ford hold back tears as his family walked away from him.

Well, hug him, damnit, the Bond commanded. God, how I wanted to.

I kept my hands clenched at my sides.

Though there was much, much to discuss, it seemed those conversations would occur in the morning. It was already well into the night, and when I’d asked Bellamy if she wanted to talk, she shook her head and said, “This is going to be a much longer discussion. Let’s talk when everyone is rested.”

I didn’t tell her that rest was a foreign concept to me, and that having to cram into my tiny room on the Base with Ford would prevent me from finding any sleep.

My feet shuffled along the stone floor as I made my way through the corridors to our room. The same one we’d had for eight years.

Most Matches that ended up developing into romantic partnerships were given private rooms, a rare show of grace from the Empire.

Though everyone knew that my Bond with Ford was…unique, no one had questioned the fact we shared a room together.

Now, I was really, really wishing they had.

The deep breath I took before opening the door was not at all calming, it just made my chest feel closer to exploding.

When I opened the door and saw the exhaustion on Ford’s face, my heart burst, spilling anguish through my midsection.

FIX THAT NOW! That shout could have belonged to the Bond or my own thoughts for all I knew. That mystery had always been the root of the issue.

Ford took a step back as I entered the room, keeping a respectful distance between us.

“Did you…um, was it good to see Sophie and the twins?” There, that sounded cordial enough. I didn’t want to talk about us, but I wasn’t enough of an asshole to leave him at his time of need.

Ford’s chest expanded with a heavy exhale, his eyes dropping to my feet then back up to my face. I wasn’t sure what that meant. “Yes. It was. No easier to leave them, though.”

“Right,” I replied with a tight smile. Okay, that was good. I checked in. Now, I could take a shower and wallow in self pity for a little, but at least the guilt wouldn’t be as potent.

I made it no further than a step towards the bathroom, barely turning my back to Ford, before he said, “You get to pick.”

I turned, confusion tightening my brows. “What?”

Ford’s face was free of emotion. To the average person, that might be comforting—at least it wasn’t anger there.

I knew better. When he looked like this, it was because he was actively hiding something.