Chapter Thirty-One

Callum

I watched from behind hard eyes as Madison disappeared into the hall beyond, wayward strands of thick black hair the last thing I saw of her before she was gone.

The door closed with a click that was far heavier than it had any right being.

Holding back the urge to go throw the lock, I stood and waited for the expectant return and protest of my throwing her out.

It never came.

The stone walls blurred, moving in on me, pushing down on my being. The sense of claustrophobia was nearly overwhelming, something I’d never experienced or thought I had any issues with.

Steeling myself against the increased pressure behind my eyes and the stiffening of my shoulders, I forced myself to breathe. In. Out. Repeat.

Gradually, the weight lessened until I could open my eyes without my pulse skyrocketing and even stand straight, unbowed by the weight as it pressed into me.

I was alone. But it had been my choice. It was what I wanted.

Wasn’t it?

All at once, the walls came rushing back in. Closing tight around me. Stealing the air, the very oxygen in my lungs, until they screamed in never-ending agony. I staggered. I reached for a chair, my fingers closing on the back of it—

The heavy, solid wood splintered into a thousand pieces as I channeled my full strength into my grip.

With a howl of pure pain, I flung the chair across the room, turning it into kindling. Another chair followed. And a third. Then the table, all the while letting go of the pain of everything that had happened, from throwing out Maddie to Noa dying and all that occurred in between.

I don’t know how long it went on. Minutes? Hours? An eternity passed. When it was gone, I was still there. In my quarters.

Alone.

The silence was a ringing endorsement of that. A reminder that the laughter and warmth that had once more begun to fill the rooms was gone. Snuffed out like a candle.

Grabbing at the collar of my shirt, I ripped it free, the material easily parting as I tossed it aside. Looking down, I stared at the green scale embedded into my skin, covering much of my breastbone. It was warm and hard but also supple and pliable, unlike any other material I’d ever experienced.

“What have I done?” I asked, voice ragged, as I moved to stare at myself in the mirror.

To watch the scale rise and fall with every breath I took.

“You were the one for me,” I said to the empty room. “But now you’re gone, and Maddie … she’s great. She really is.”

But she’s not you.

I couldn’t say the words out loud. They hurt too much.

The truth could often be that way.

“What do I do now?” I asked the mirror and scale. “Everything is so confusing. There are no answers. Only more questions. About your death. About Maddie. Me. I can’t figure it out. I can’t …”

Moving to the floor, I sat, my knees pulled to my chest, resting my head on my arms as I tried to think. To understand and problem solve. That’s what I was supposed to do, wasn’t it? Solve problems. That was the man’s job. It was expected of me.

“So far, all you’ve done is create more. Good job.”

I laughed to the empty air. Apparently, even I was frustrated with myself.

“What do I do, Noa?” I whispered. “How can I ever truly be over you? You’re right here, a part of me, literally . We had our whole lives ahead of us. Now, I’m just supposed to … forget you?”

I sighed, shaking my head. “Then there’s Maddie. She’s great. Amazing. She really is. I like her, Noa, I really do. But I screwed it up. Big time. And the only way I can unscrew that up is to abandon you. To forget all about you. I don’t know if I can do that. I wouldn’t know how to do that.”

Which begged the final question. The one I couldn’t bring myself to speak out loud but was the most important of all.

Did I want to do it?