Chapter 36

Ilay awake the night before I was supposed to meet Eliza, contemplating whether I should go.

Every time I leaned toward hearing her out, I remembered watching Addie fall to the ground lifeless. I remembered my screams, and Willa’s, and the desolate look that hadn’t entirely left my brother’s face. I wasn’t sure I would be able to look past the carnage she had caused—the brokenness in our lives that we were trying so hard to heal.

And yet, for the last month, every time I smiled or laughed, I’d found myself looking to my side—at someone who wasn’t there anymore. I’d tried to convince myself that she was never supposed to be there at all, and that this was how things should be, but that did nothing to assuage the longing constantly lingering in my mind.

I reminded myself that I didn’t owe her forgiveness. I could listen to her apology, thank her for her time, and leave.

But if I went to see her and lost myself in the tsunami waves of her eyes… would I have any other choice but to forgive her?

It was one thing if she planned to leave Paris, and I could guarantee I’d never see her again. Instead, she had stayed—and I couldn’t bear to leave my family—so we were doomed to exist in this same city, forever tiptoeing around the possibility of running into each other. I didn’t want that hanging over my head every day.

I thought through the contents of her other letters, all of which were signed the same way. She loved me, missed me, and was sorry.

She loved me.

I hated the way the thought made my soul fly. Was it too late for us? Was it too late to give our love a chance?

I sat up and rubbed my face in my hands.

Eliza differed from anyone I’d ever known. She was all-consuming and never-ending. If I brought her back into my life, I faced an onslaught of friction between my love and my family. She didn’t just have my forgiveness to win; she had to win Addie’s, Holland’s, Willa’s, and Wren’s too—and they would all be far harsher than I could ever be.

Maybe that was what Eliza needed, though: to be held accountable for her actions. She had no way of knowing Addie was a vampire now, and I had every intention of letting her know that was just as serious a fate for her as death.

Even if any of us could forgive her, it would be an uphill battle for her to gain our trust, including mine.

Could I love someone if I didn’t trust them?

In the morning, I got ready in silence. I dressed in a beige and black star sweater and khaki pants, pulling my hair into a high ponytail and letting a few strands fall to frame my face.

I left the apartment before Willa could wake up and ask questions.

I had a general idea of where the address would take me, but I wasn’t entirely sure. I took the metro as close as I could, standing in the back corner of the train car and watching people go on with their lives while I contemplated the future of mine.

Did I let Eliza back in, or did I push her away?

Did I let myself fall in love again or close my heart against what it wanted so desperately?

I hated that, as I stepped off the metro and began the ascent out of the station, I had no answers. My mind was weary with the lack of sleep from the night before; I’d hoped to decide then what I would do with Eliza’s apology. Minutes turned into hours, and no answers came.

As I followed the directions on my phone out of the metro station and around the corner, I wasn’t sure what I would say to her. I pulled my sweater tight around my torso, relishing in what was likely one of the last frosty mornings of the year.

How did I forgive someone who broke me so entirely?

How did I know she would never do it again?

Could I take that risk?

I walked for a while, then turned onto the street where it said the location was. My brow furrowed as I stepped around topiaries and huge bushes—green from the height of spring. I saw the blue wall with white words first, approaching it carefully. It was early enough in the morning that most of the streets were deserted and quiet, though I could hear her heartbeat behind me as I took in the sight of the stones before me.

Je t’aime.

Ik houd van jou.

Te quiero.

Ich liebe dich.

Mahal kita.

I love you.

The wall said “I love you” in hundreds of languages. I sucked in a breath at the weight of what meeting here meant, and I dragged my fingers across the wall before turning to face Eliza.

She wore a blue sundress that made her look more like a goddess of spring than a vampire, and her hair was curled in ringlets over her shoulders. Her pink backpack sat at her feet, and she waited on a bench with her hands crossed in her lap. Her eyes were impossibly wide as she stared at me, holding her breath.

“Hi,” she gasped out.

I moved to sit beside her on the bench without looking at her. “Hello, Eliza.”