Page 53
Story: Princess of Death
He remained still and let me hold him.
Tiberius walked into the room, having my dark hair and my dark eyes. He was more sensitive than his brother, on the verge of tears like he knew tragedy was coming.
“Son, come here.” I opened my arm and hugged him too, holding both of my boys for the last time, my pride and joy, my whole fucking world. “I love you both—so fucking much.” I kissed each one of them on the head and squeezed them tightly. That was all I could say and keep my end of the deal.
But I wanted them to feel my love…and hope it was enough for them to remember.
“Callum?” My brother’s voice came from the bedroom.
I kissed them again then let them go. “Take care of your mother.”
They both stared at me like they didn’t understand how they would accomplish that when she was about to pass away, but they didn’t ask.
I walked into the bedroom and found her there, bone-white like she’d be dead in hours if the God of the Underworld didn’t keep her on this side of the veil, her eyes so weak she could barely lift them.
“Callum…”
Gael silently excused himself so I could have this final moment with my wife.
I took the seat where he’d been sitting and grabbed her hand.
For the last time.
I wanted to cry for what I was about to do. The way I was about to betray her, to lie to her face and act like I would ever desire another woman but her. I was about to burn my reputation to the ground, as a father and a husband, as everything that had ever mattered to me.
But she would live.
She would live.
I held on to that, because that was all I had.
“I love you,” she said, speaking words she thought would be her last.
“I love you too.” I felt the tears in my eyes and let them burn.
“Raise our sons to be men. Find happiness again.”
I swallowed. “That will be your burden, not mine.”
She had so little life left, but she had enough to furrow her eyebrows slightly.
He appeared behind her on the other side of the bed, watching the exchange with subtle glee in his eyes.
I kept my focus on her, on the touch of her hand. “Caring for you has become too much. I’ve found comfort in a woman at the tavern where I’ve spent my time lately. The burden of fatherhood and marriage has become too much for me.” I didn’t look at her as I said it because I would fucking die.
“Callum, I’m dying—and these are your last words to me?”
I stared at her ice-cold hand. “Maybe you’ll make it through the night?—”
“I won’t make it a few more minutes.”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the vial of opium. “Drink this, and you’ll recover.” I let her hand go and didn’t reach for it again because I could already tell she didn’t want it.
“I don’t understand what’s happening right now.”
“I don’t want to care for you or the boys anymore.” It was the greatest feat of acting I’d ever done, better than the actors in the traveling theater that came to visit in the summertime. “I’vemet someone, and she’s who I want to be with.” I finally had the courage to look her in the eye.
She was heartbroken.
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