Page 102 of Inked Desires

But the pain is fading. The burning is dying out. It’s strange… almost peaceful.

Andrew’s face becomes blurry.

I raise a weak hand and stroke his cheek, savoring the softness of his skin one last time.

“I love you…” I breathe.

“No! No, Ares, this isn’t goodbye!” he screams.

I laugh.

Yes. It is.

Everything fades to black.

And the only thing I carry with me into the dark… is the certainty that he loves me too.

CHAPTER 23

ANDREW

The sterile scent of disinfectant fills the air, cold and impersonal. The steady beeps of the heart monitor are the only proof that life hasn’t abandoned him yet.

His hand rests in mine. The roughness of his knuckles contrasts with the unsettling paleness of his face. He always had that hard, untamable look. But here, lying under the hospital’s pale light, he seems so fragile it makes me nauseous.

I’m exhausted. My eyelids burn, my body protests, but sleep is out of the question. I have to watch over him. Be here when he wakes up.

A voice pulls me from my stupor.

“How is he?”

I don’t turn my head. I already know who’s standing beside me. And without him, I wouldn’t even be allowed here.

Ares and I aren’t married. No official tie binds me to him. Yet, we have endured more than a lifetime of suffering together. And a great part of that pain, I inflicted on him myself.

Because of me, he’s here.

His heart stopped. The love of my life died in my arms. Just for a moment. Just long enough to break me.

I would have taken it all for him. Every blow, every humiliation, every punishment from Jace. But Ares chose to protect me. He threw himself at him without hesitation.

I stayed frozen. Not out of fear. Not out of panic. Just the brutal shock of a veil tearing apart.

Suddenly, everything was there. The seven lost years, the erased memories, every moment with him. It wasn’t a fleeting image anymore. Not a simple flash.

It was right there.

If I hadn’t frozen, if I hadn’t wasted those precious seconds trying to understand… maybe he wouldn’t be fighting to survive now. Maybe he wouldn’t be covered in stitches and needles, connected to these machines keeping him alive.

Maybe I wouldn’t have to pray for him to open his eyes.

“Nothing new,” I reply to Robert’s question.

“The local police closed the case,” he informs me.“You have nothing to fear anymore, it’s over.”

I blink, barely sure I heard right.

“They actually investigated?”