Page 167 of Exiled


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I’m doing this forhim.

Because he deserves the world, not a miserable addict almost double his age who nearly killed his own daughter.

He’s never even got to live yet, and all I’d be doing is trapping him in a life he didn’t choose. Not really. How could he when he’s experienced nothing else? Nothing better.

Before he can argue though, I simply bend down, pressing my lips to his.

Over his mouth, I repeat, “I promise.”

His swallow is pronounced and audible before he says, “I don’t believe you.”

“I know,” I say.

We kiss for another long moment, rain sheeting down on us, mingling with our tears.

Then we hug for what feels like hours, holding each other so hard, I wish I could say it was enough to fuse our bodies together.

But it’s not.

It can’t be.

Not now, and likely not ever.

When we finally pry ourselves apart, I cradle his cheeks and press a soft kiss to his forehead. “It’s time to go.”

He nods, eyes squeezed shut when I pull back.

I grab his shoulders, turning him away from me, and bend my mouth to his ear. “Don’t stop this time. Don’t look back. Only go forward.”

Pressing one last rough kiss to the side of his head, I give a nudge and let go, stepping back with long strides until I’m once again under the cover of the canopy.

It takes him a moment—a moment where he just stands there in the pouring rain, fingers tapping at his sides. I try to get my feet to work, to take me inside, to take the choice from him so he won’t be tempted to run back into my arms.

But I’m rooted to the spot.

I press my knuckles to my chest, rubbing the ache that’s formed there, but it’s no use. I know it won’t be going anywhere, not anytime soon.

If anything it only grows tighter when he starts walking away. With every new foot of distance between us, another pang resounds in my chest. As if someone’s taken a hammer and nails to my heart, securing it in place while it thrashes, agonized, desperate to tumble out and chase after the boy walking away from me.

This is for the best.

He’ll be okay.

All these reminders do little to bolster my resolve, so all I can do is hope he’ll be the stronger one—the one capable of walking away.

Skyler pauses at where the path breaks off, and I close my eyes.

“Don’t,” I murmur under my breath. “Please don’t.”

I’ll crumble if he comes back, I just know it.

I don’t know how long I stand there with my eyes squeezed shut and my knuckles buried in my chest. Long enough for the rain to dwindle down to a gentle sprinkle. Long enough for other sounds to invade the heavy cloud of our goodbye. Long enough for my heart to quiet and slump in defeat.

Leaves brushing.

Waves lapping at the distant rocks.

The low hum of a golf cart driving by beyond the trees.

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