Page 148 of Grim

“About what?” I snap.

“Her.”

The word cuts clean through my rib cage.

“Don’t.”

“Ru—”

“Don’t say her name again,” I grit out.

He doesn’t flinch. “Rue wouldn’t want this.”

I stand, grabbing him by his coat and slamming himagainst the wall. “You don’t get to tell me what she’d want. You didn’t know her.”

“I know what love looks like, mate. When it’s been carved into someone’s bones. You can’t spend another eternity mending a broken heart. You will be on the chain with the souls refusing to forget.”

“Then so be it!” I shove him back. “She’s crossed into oblivion,” I say. “She said, ‘Mayday,’ and I wasn’t there. I was locked in some office, forced to watch her cry for me. And now she’s gone. I’ve been stripped of my blade, my abilities. I can’t look for her. I’m trapped. I was supposed to be there with her.”

“For what it’s worth,” he drops into my chair and suddenly looks tired enough to crumple, “I was as gentle as possible.”

“It should’ve been me.”

Silence fills the space between us. Not empty. Just full of things neither of us wants to touch.

“I can’t feel anything,” I say.

“Maybe that’s your mind trying to keep you going.”

“I don’t even dream about her anymore.”

Asher exhales slowly. “Maybe that’s your soul trying to remember how to carry on without her.”

“I don’t want to go on like this.”

“Then don’t.”

I look at him.

“Do something,” he says. “Go to your home. Go to D and demand your job back. Fuck, come with me to Casualties and get that anger out. But stop sitting here, waiting to disintegrate. You’re Kane Deveraux. Don’t vanish.”

“I’ve already started.”

“Bullshit.” He scoffs.

“I held her! I—I loved her.”

“And you think that’s where she ends?”

I don’t answer.

He stands, walks to the door. “Love never ends, Kane. It’s the only thing more enduring than death. That doesn’t vanish just because she did.”

“I don’t know.”

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “You do. And here’s somethingelse to think on. How would she feel, knowing you’re using her memory this way?”

The door closes behind him with a soft click. I’m alone again, but the silence feels companionable somehow. Like Asher left the soft hum of hope when he left.