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Chapter 49

Chapter

Forty-Nine

"Love is proved the moment you let go of someone because they need you to."

― Shannon L. Alder

Alexsei

I couldn't tear my eyes away from her.

Those emerald eyes, like a forest full of secrets, masking just enough pain to keep me guessing. Unspoken words and hidden longings flickered in them as she pressed the ring into my palm, her touch lingering a little too long.

That ring felt heavier than it had any right to, like it carried every unsaid word, every chance we never took, the fire we'd buried deep. Our hands came together in that moment, a twisted canvas for all the "what ifs" we never dared to explore.

Her eyes were a world of possibilities, and that ring in my hand was a cold reminder of all the paths we'd never walk.

The silence hung between us, thick and suffocating, until she finally broke it. "I am s–"

I cut her off, not wanting to hear whatever apology she'd been rehearsing. " Nyet. If you're leaving, don't bother with the feeble excuses."

We'd been home three weeks since... since everything fell apart. Two weeks since the funeral. Since we buried our baby.

Caia and I were strangers now, living worlds apart under the same roof. She locked herself in his room, refusing to come out, to eat, to even look at me. I spent hours outside her door, begging her to let me in, but nothing worked. She wouldn't let anyone in. Not even me.

It felt like there was a wall between us, getting higher and thicker with every passing day. Every time I reached for her, she pulled away. Every word I tried to say, she shut down. She was slipping further away, and I didn't know how to bring her back.

But now, I guess I didn't have to. She'd made her choice.

This morning, I went out, desperate for air, terrified I'd break in front of her when she needed me to hold it together. When I got back, there she was—dressed, bag in hand, avoiding my eyes like she couldn't stand to look at me.

She was leaving. Running from everything. From me.

I'd been holding on, trying to keep us together, trying to be strong for her but maybe I wasn't enough. Maybe I failed. Because now, she was slipping right through my fingers.

She stepped back, her hand over her chest, right where her heart thudded beneath. "Is the murder of my son a feeble excuse?"

Her words hit me hard, the weight of them crushing me. The air felt thick with sadness, like we were both drowning in it.

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. "Not by my hands."

"It might as well have been, Alexsei."

I flinched. She rarely called me Alexsei. It was always zolotse, darling when she was happy, "Lexi" when she wanted to tease me, and zaychik, bunny when she craved my touch. Hearing my full name now—it was like she was pushing me further away.

"I lost him too, Caia," I whispered.

"Then you know why I'm doing this." She turned back to pack more clothes, her voice breaking. "I can't—I can't look at you anymore. Every time I do, I see—" She choked on the words.

Lukyan.

She didn't need to say it. I saw him too. Every single day.

That image was burned into my mind, haunting me. My boy, lying there on the cold marble floor, still and silent. His bright, curious eyes closed forever. His laugh, the one that used to fill our home, silenced. His little arms spread wide, like he'd been trying to reach for me, trying to hold on.

My boy. Gone.

The weight of it—the memory, the guilt—it was a burden I'd carry for the rest of my life. And it was my fault. All of it. I hadn't protected him, hadn't kept him safe. Too caught up in my own mess, I let it swallow him too.

"Caia, please," I stepped closer, wrapping my arms around her from behind. "Please, don't do this. I can't—I can't live without you."

I pressed my face into the crook of her neck, the scent of lavender washing over me. Her hair brushed my cheek, soft like always. Her shoulders tensed under my hands, but she didn't pull away. Instead, her fingers rested on my arms, just inches from where her tears burned my skin.

"Don't leave me too, moya solnyshka ."

"It's for the best, Alexsei," she whispered, shaking her head as another sob escaped her lips. She slipped out of my arms and zipped her bag with a finality that tore me apart. She then walked toward the door, her black dress swirling around her like the shadow of death, mirroring the darkness that had swallowed my heart.

"If you leave, Caia, if you walk out that door, you have no idea what monster you'll unleash."

Her hand froze on the doorknob, and for a moment, I thought maybe—just maybe—she'd stay. But when she turned back to me, her tear-filled eyes told me everything.

"I'm not leaving to destroy you, Alexsei. I'm leaving to save what's left of us both."

And then she was gone, the door closing behind her, leaving me in the wreckage of what was once my life.

My wife. My son.

Everything.

I'll do whatever it takes to get her back. Beg, crawl, whatever it takes. Because without her, there's no fucking Alexsei Romaniev. There's nothing.

The buzz of my phone pulled me out of my thoughts. I pulled it from my pocket, eyes landing on the screen.

A text... from fucking Vlad?

Vlad:

I know who killed your son.

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