Page 1 of Fallen Empire

Prologue

Millie

Beep... Beep... Beep…

The thing about machines is that they don’t give a shit about grief.

They hum and blink and beat out a rhythm that offers a false sense of hope. A sound too close to a heartbeat. Something to cling to in the silence.

I watched my ex-lover die this way.

Beep… Beep… Beep…

I watched his chest rise and fall even after the ventilator was turned off. Because the body doesn’t know how to stop right away. It mimics breathing, just like the machine taught it. Not yet realizing that it’s already too late.

It’s cruel. The way the machine wants your mind to believe it’s working. Wants it to believe the lie that the person you love—lifeless on the bed—is just seconds away from drawing in air on their own again.

But they aren’t.

There’s a part of love no one ever talks about. The part where it could end in desperation.

One day, you’re planning forever with your best friend…

The next, you’re left with soul-crushing heartache.

Love is deceptive like that. Tricking people into believing that it lasts forever, when sometimes it only lasts a few brief moments.

I never told anyone that I once stood beside a hospital bed for days, praying for a cure for the dreaded C-word.

Cancer.

The disease that takes without mercy, without care, without warning. It doesn’t ask if you’ve said goodbye. It doesn’t wait until you’re ready. It just steals. It rips the person youlove from this world while you sit there, helpless, holding their hand and begging for one more second. One more breath. But knowing deep down you will never get either.

The vow I made to myself that day was simple: never love again. Not like that. Not in the way that takes your soul from you. Not in the way that ruins you.

And the worst part?

I don’t think I ever really grieved. Sure, I cried. But mostly, I shoved it all into a corner of my mind, locked it away, and left it there. Right beside every other thing I wasn’t ready to deal with.

But no one warned me that a soulmate could come in the shape of friendship.

That it wouldn’t be the person you kiss goodnight, but the one who lets you fall apart in their arms without asking you to explain. That someone you never touch with desire could still hold your heart just as fiercely.

Someone who sees the mess, the rage, the ruin, and stays anyway.

No one tells you how sacred it is to have someone whose door you can walk through without knocking. To send one word—help—and they’re already on the way. To exist in silence with them and still feel heard.

Friendship like that doesn’t start with fireworks. It starts with a moment. A need. A phone call that gets answered.

And before you know it, they’ve become your lifeline.

Your chosen anchor in a world that’s tried to drown you.

I knew her past came with more pain than she’d ever speak aloud. I’d seen the damage her body wielded and chose to remain silent. For her sake. Because one day, I would need to listen and not judge.

So yeah, I saw the stories she chose not to say. The ones that were carved permanently across her skin. And I loved her even more for it.

Soulmates.