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He pauses in the doorway, and just a little hope trickles through my veins that I might be able to scale the walls he’s built back up since he learned what we had to do today.
His shoulders tense a beat before he looks back at me.
My hope withers and dies the second our eyes meet.
He’s not going to be swayed.
He’s been given his orders, and being the good little soldier he is, he’ll follow, pushing aside everything he feels, everything he truly wants.
It’s a harsh realisation that no matter what he’s said to me during our time here, he’ll always put the Family before anything else.
A sob rips from my throat as I silently beg him not to do this. Not to lock himself down and forget everything we found here.
All my hopes and dreams about this being something, any possibility that we could continue this at home, that we could fight for it together crash at my feet.
He blinks, and he might as well have just ripped my heart right out of my chest and stomped on it before he walks out without another word.
I stand there in the middle of the room, totally naked, with my entire world crumbled at my feet.
My stomach knots as my heart bleeds out, and before I know what’s happening, I’m running to the bathroom. My knees hit the tiled floor the second I’m in front of the toilet, but I don’t feel anything as my stomach convulses and forces me to throw up what’s left of the vodka and crisps Daemon and I snacked on during our wild sex fest in the destroyed kitchen.
I heave until there’s nothing left before resting my arm on the seat and resting my head on it.
Tears stain my cheeks from throwing up, but I refuse to cry. I refuse to let him see just how easy it was to break me.
Just one look.
One cold, detached look, and everything I’ve unlocked within him in the past week has been securely shoved back inside the impenetrable box it used to be hidden within. And something tells me that opening it up a second time is going to be even harder.
With a heavy sigh, I push to my feet and move to stand in front of the basin.
The emptiness in my eyes makes me gasp. They burn with the need to expel this desperate yet hopeless feeling that’s swirling around inside me like a storm.But I won’t cry. Not until I’m alone.
Suck it up, Callista, I tell myself as I stare dead into my cold eyes.
I stand taller and throw my shoulders back, doing my best to pull on my own mask.
“You’re a Cirillo, and you are stronger than the devil.”
With a newfound strength, albeit forced, I reach for my toothbrush to wash away my moment of weakness.
I work on autopilot, pulling on a pair of leggings and a hoodie in the hope I can hide inside them. If I had more time, my outfit choice might be different. I might put in more effort and attempt to show him the mistake he’s making by shutting me out once more. But right now, my head is spinning and my stomach is still aching from its purge.
I give the room one final look, ensuring I’ve got everything before throwing my bag over my shoulder and heading out.
I keep my eyes on my feet as I walk toward the kitchen. My heart can’t take the images of us over the past few days hanging out, laughing and enjoying each other.
Now I know this is happening, I just need to get home. I need it done, so I can figure out a way to deal with it without eyes on me.
Daemon is standing at the window, staring outside. He’s pulled on a hoodie that’s covering his head but doing an awful job of hiding the tension in his body.
The aura coming off him is dark. Danger ripples around the room. And I’m sure it would scare most people off. I guess it’s just a shame for him that I’m not most people.
My muscles ache to walk over and run my hand down his back, whispering soft support in his ear that things are going to be okay. But I already know it’s pointless.
He’s shut down and any words I say now, any argument, no matter how convincing it might be, is going to fall on deaf ears.
Not waiting for him to acknowledge me, I walk toward the door and pull it open.
