Page 6 of Delirium
Today she told me we couldn’t do this anymore, and she was right. I loved her enough to understand that she was right. Maybe once all of this was solved, we could find our way to each other, but until then, I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t risk all the children living in other chapters.
I pushed the door open, finding the light on her nightstand on, and her sitting on the bed, looking at the floor.
The blonde color she used on her hair was washing away, her natural brown hair growing out. Even though she hated it right now, she still looked breathtaking. She carried my kids, my heirs, and I would forever be in her debt for giving me that one slice of happiness, no matter how fucked up all the other things were.
We fought, pushed and pulled each other, constantly at each other’s throats, because I didn’t know how to tell her the truth. I couldn’t let her fight my battles, and I couldn’t let her know that the threat was so close to home.
Especially not now.
I needed her to be healthy and safe, and I wanted her to stay. And maybe she would stay. Maybe she would allow me to see my kids once they were born, but Atlas was right—I had to let her go.
“I was wondering when you would come,” she said, looking up at me.
Her cerulean blue eyes flashed with pain, but she quickly masked it, hiding it behind a smile.
“I know why you’re here,” she murmured before I could even start talking. “I know why we’re on lockdown.”
“Sunshine—”
She shook her head, her hands in her lap. “You’re not here to choose me, are you?” she asked. “You’re not going to choose your kids either.”
“Phee,” I murmured and closed the distance between us, taking her face in my hands. “I would choose you if I could.”
“No, you wouldn’t.” She chuckled, but there was no happiness in it. “But it’s okay,” she mumbled. “I never expected you to choose me.”
It wasn’t okay. My heart wasn’t okay. Her heart wasn’t okay.
None of this was fucking okay, but I had duties that came before my own feelings, and she was collateral damage in all of it.
She moved back onto the bed and turned her back to me, pulling her knees up. I toed off my boots and removed my T-shirt, keeping my pants on.
I hated sleeping in them. There was nothing comfortable about sleeping in pants, but I just wanted to hold her tonight. One last time.
One last night where I could pretend that we were going to be okay, just how I pretended all those other nights.
Heartbreak smothered the clean air coming through the window of her room, making it harder to breathe even as I pulled her to me, her body shaking in my embrace.
“We can’t do this anymore,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. “I can’t do this anymore. I know it might not mean a lot to you, but I need you to promise me, Storm. Promise me you will never again come to my room.”
Fuck, I couldn’t promise her that. I couldn’t let go of the hope that this would all stop before the kids were born and that I would be able to hold her without consequences.
She looked at me over her shoulder, unshed tears glistening in her eyes. My heart slammed against my ribcage, rebelling against the words that needed to come out of my mouth.
“Please, Storm,” she begged. “I never beg for anything, but I can’t go on like this. If you can’t be with me, if you can’t choose me, that’s fine. But I can choose myself. I can try to make this pain go away. That’s all I’m asking.” She took a deep breath, her hand wrapping around my arm. “I will stay. I will stay until they’re born and then we’ll be gone. I will be gone.”
“No, Ophelia,” I broke. “You can’t.”
“I can’t stay here.” She smiled through her tears. “But I can stay in Santa Monica, or somewhere close. You would be able to see them all the time, and you could come and visit.”
“But you would need help, and money, and—”
“I have Zoe, and I also have Cillian and Tristan.” I knew she wasn’t saying all of this to hurt me, but her words still pierced through my heart, leaving a bloody trail behind. “I have more money than you could imagine, Stormy.” She chuckled. “I can take care of myself.”
I knew she could. She’d been doing this for so long, and I knew she didn’t need me. As much as I wanted her to need me, now I could see that that was never going to happen. Maybe I didn’t want her to need me. I needed her to want me, to tell me that there was still hope.
But I couldn’t expect that from her. I couldn’t expect her to wait, thinking she would always be in second place.
“You know,” she started as she turned around, hiding her face from me. “I only wanted to be someone’s priority, Storm. Just once. I’m not saying I should be the only priority, but…” she chuckled. “But it would have been nice to have that. Just once to feel that someone chose me over everything and everyone else.”
