Chapter Forty-One

Annabel

The wind howls like a feral animal, clawing at my hair and lashing my face as I stand on the precipice of Ravensreach Point.

The sea below churns and boils, an abyss of dark water and jagged rocks.

It feels alive, a monstrous thing waiting for me.

My fingers clutch at the delicate necklace around my throat, the cool metal a weight I’ve carried too long.

Behind me, Jonathan’s voice cuts through the chaos, sharp and unrelenting. “Annabel, please!”

I laugh bitterly, regretting the message I sent him just hours ago–a cry for help or my final farewell, I’m still not sure.

It’s been over a month since the gallery opening, since the night we made love.

Since the night my resolve soured to hate.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Jonathan. That’s all anyone ever does—tell me what I should be, how I should act, who I should love. ”

He’s closer now; I can feel his presence like a shadow creeping up my back. “This isn’t the answer,” he says, his voice softening, taking on a pleading tone that only stokes my fury. “ Calum doesn’t have to know—about us, about anything. We can fix this.”

Fix this. As if anything could be fixed.

As if I’m not already shattered beyond repair.

I spin to face him, the necklace in my hand like a lifeline turned noose.

“You think this is about him? About you?” I take a step toward him, the cliffs biting into the soles of my shoes.

“This is about me, Jonathan. For once in my godforsaken life, it’s about me. ”

His face twists with something between anger and desperation, and I can see the storm brewing in his eyes. “You’re not thinking clearly. You’re being dramatic, as always.”

“Dramatic?” My laugh is high-pitched, verging on hysterical. “You’ve been pulling my strings for years. You and Calum both. I’m a doll to you, something to dress up and parade around. But guess what? Dolls break.”

He reaches for me, but I take another step back, closer to the edge. The wind teeters me on the brink, the pull of gravity a whisper in my ear. His eyes widen, panic flashing across his features. “Stop this! You’re not thinking straight. You’re not this reckless.”

I meet his gaze, steady and cold. “Oh, darling. That’s where you’re wrong. You’ve never really known me, have you? Neither of you have.”

I glance down at the necklace, its tiny pendant glinting faintly in the stormy light.

He gave it to me when we were younger, before everything became so complicated.

It was supposed to mean something—love, loyalty, eternity.

But now it feels like a shackle, a symbol of everything I’ve lost and everything I can never be.

“Annabel, please,” Jonathan says, his voice cracking. He steps closer, his hands outstretched as if he can pull me back with sheer force of will. “You don’t have to do this. You can still have a life, a future.”

“A future?” I scoff, tears burning hot against the chill of the wind.

“What kind of future? One where I’m trapped between you and Calum, always pretending to be something I’m not?

Always haunted by my own guilt?” I shake my head.

“You both want to make me into a sweet little wife, a mother to your children, a commodity–” I sob, my palms tracing my still-flat stomach.

“No. That’s not a future. That’s a prison. ”

His hands curl into fists at his sides, and I see the fury simmering beneath his fear. “Are you… are you pregnant?”

I don’t answer, and it’s all the answer he needs. He steps closer.

“Is it mine?”

My throat tightens painfully. “I don’t know.”

Silence hangs between us, heavy and oppressive.

“So that’s it then? You’re just running away, like you always do? You’re a coward, Annabel.”

“Maybe I am,” I admit, my voice softening. “But at least this way, I’m the one making the choice.”

I feel the ground beneath my heel crumbling away. Jonathan surges forward, panic etched into every line of his face. “Annabel, stop! You don’t know what you’re doing!”

I reach up, unclasp the necklace, and hold it out to him. For a moment, he just stares at it, as if it’s a snake poised to strike. “Take it,” I say, my voice trembling. “Take all of it. I don’t want it anymore.”

He reaches for the locket, his movements frantic as he locks the chain around his fingers. We’re tethered together, the cheap golden chain shimmering between us. “You’ve broken your own heart and you’re breaking mine.”

I shake my head. “We’re too wild–souls like ours burn too bright. He’s frost and I’m fire, and you an I are like two flames hellbent on combusting together. Like stars that burn until they consume, incinerating each other and everything around them. Don’t you see? We would ruin each other.”

“That’s not true,” he says .

“We already have.” I step back, the wind catching my hair and clothes, pulling me toward the edge.

For a fleeting moment, I feel weightless, untethered.

Free. My eyes close, and I think of Calum, of the way he looks at me like I’m his salvation.

I think of Jonathan, of the way he sees through my masks but still wants to control me.

And I think of myself, the girl I used to be before I let them define me.

A gust of wind pushes me closer and I let it, stepping nearer to the cliff edge.

“Annabel, no!”

The ground disappears beneath my feet, and I’m falling. The air rushes past me, cold and biting, and the roar of the ocean grows louder, a deafening crescendo. My heart pounds in my chest, a wild, erratic rhythm, and for one brief, searing moment, I feel alive.

Then the water swallows me whole.

The sea is colder than I imagined, a frigid embrace that steals the breath from my lungs.

The waves toss me like a rag doll, the salt stinging my eyes and filling my mouth.

I claw at the water, desperate for air, for something solid to hold on to.

But there’s nothing. Just the endless, suffocating dark.

I hear voices above the surface, faint and distorted. Jonathan’s voice, calling my name, frantic and desperate. But he’s too late. They’re always too late.

My vision blurs, the edges of the world growing dim. And then, in the darkness, I see her—a reflection of myself, shimmering and ghostly. She reaches out to me, her expression calm and serene, as if she’s been waiting for me all along.

“It’s okay,” she whispers, her voice carrying through the water like a lullaby. “You’re free now. It’s finished.”

The last of my strength fades, and I let go, sinking into her arms, into the depths, into oblivion.