Page 38

O ne last goodbye.

It’s the hardest.

The most toxic.

But it will bring the most closure.

I walk the familiar streets to Ophelia’s apartment. Every step feels heavier than the last.

I used to love coming here. It was always a breath of fresh air with how new and clean it is. Compared to the old shithole I used to live in, this place felt so nice. It always smelled faintly of cinnamon and her vanilla body spray. It was the smell of comfort. Of fun. Of my person.

Now, it smells like betrayal.

Ophelia opens the door after three knocks.

Her face is pale. She looks thinner. There are no longer visible signs of the violence James used against her, but the darkness in her eyes is there as proof. When she sees me, her body stiffens. Her hand tightens on the edge of the door.

But I lift my palm in peace.

“I just have a few things I need to say,” I murmur. “Then I’ll go.”

She stares at me for several long moments. I hear her pulse quicken. I smell sweat prickling along her skin.

But she stares at me. She searches me. And for just a second, I see traces of a person who used to love me.

She opens the door wider. I step inside.

Everything’s as I remember it—but colder. A half-unpacked hospital bag sits near the couch. A blanket lies crumpled on the floor. Everything is just a little messy, and Ophelia has never been messy.

“I’m not here to fight,” I say, turning to her. “I just... needed to do this.”

She nods slightly, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Ares and I are leaving New York. For good,” I say. “I’m not going to tell you where.”

She opens her mouth as if she’s about to say something. Her shock is obvious. But she contains it, as if remaining silent will punish me.

“There isn’t room for both of us here anymore. Not after everything that’s happened. You almost got Ares killed. You’re the reason a lot of people died.”

She blinks and her eyes drop to the floor for a moment. Guilt. Shame. I think that’s what I see in her face. But she steels her expression, stubborn as ever.

“I don’t forgive you,” I add, and that lands like a stone in the silence. “But I’m not going to let what happened poison what’s ahead. I won’t carry it with me.”

I step further into the room, toward the place where we used to sit with popcorn and wine and talk about everything—our dreams, our fears, our stupid exes.

“I wish things turned out differently,” I say, my throat tightening. “But for what it’s worth... thank you. For being my person for a while. For being my family when I had no one else.”

Tears shine in her eyes. “I…” she stalls, her lip quivering. She brushes the tears away, keeping them from falling. “I wish it was different. I wish everything could just get erased. But I don’t think I’ll ever understand how you can love a vampire.”

“I’m married to a vampire,” I correct.

That drops like a fucking anvil. This is news to Ophelia. She’s seen the ring on my finger for weeks. She’s heard me talk about my love for Ares. But as far as she knew, it was shallow. But marriage means something. It holds weight.

Once upon a time, she absolutely would have been my maid of honor. She was my person. My best friend. She should have been there with me, planning all the details and catching a thrown bouquet, the next to find her person.

But here we are instead.

She nods once. “Right. Lana, I…” she hesitates again, taking in a shaky breath. “I regret what I did. I wish I hadn’t touched his mind. I realize it now, how colossal a mistake that was. I was angry. I thought... Well, it doesn’t matter. I guess some part of me thought I was protecting you.”

I let that hang there.

I don’t believe it justifies what she did.

But I don’t need to fight her anymore.

I step forward.

And I hug her.

Tightly. One last time.

She exhales, shaky and startled, and I feel her arms come around me.

When I pull back, I look her in the eye.

“The city’s yours now,” I say. “I hope you can find some peace in it.”

Then I turn and leave, the door clicking softly shut behind me.

I walk away lighter—not because it doesn’t hurt, but because I’m done carrying it.