She doesn’t appear moved, and my throat tightens as I wait for her to speak. My heartbeat fills the silence for far too long before her lips begin to move again.
“Forwhatexactly?” she says slowly, her brows furrowing.
“What? I?—”
“What exactly are you apologizing for, Gemini?” She pushes my hands off her knee, and my arms fall to the sides. “The pregnancy? For tricking me? Foreverythingelse?”
“For whatever you want,” I rush out to say. “Just as long as I can bring you home.”
She lets out a groan of frustration, shoving my shoulder so that I slump backward on my ass while she stands up, distancing herself from me.
“I don’t think you are physically capable of showing remorse.” She crosses her arms and curls in on herself as her lips quiver. “I was right; you are a monster.”
Frustration spikes, but it’s mixed with a deep ache at seeing her like this.
“What do you expect from me, Veil? I worship the god oftrickery. How can I apologize for something that I was born to chase?”
“I am yourequal, Gemini.” She seethes. “I am not one of your lowly followers.” Her nostrils flare, breathing hard. “Are you so conceited that you cannot see the difference between the two?”
Her words prickle uncomfortably across my skin as the silence falls between us, the rain growing louder outside the library windows. I turn, desperate for her forgiveness, ready to give up anything—everything—for her. Whatever she wants, I’ll accept.
“Terminate the pregnancy then. Erase my mistakes. We can start over.”
She narrows her eyes as she sneers at me. Whatever I say only seems to enrage her further.
“You can attempt to erase your wrongs, Gemini, but it will never erase the betrayal.” I try to speak, but she cuts me off. “And if Idodecide to get rid of it, it won’t be for any reason but my own.” Her arms tighten around her chest. “Now, leave.”
My chest feels cavernous, a gaping hole where my heart should be.
“You can’t stay at Belladonna’s forever,” I mutter as some sort of weak protest, eloquence escaping me.
“I’m not,” she answers primly, raising her chin and straightening her shoulders.
“Then come home,” I implore.
“I have my own house now.”
I take a step back, my mind reeling, having never expected for this to go this far. “Ahouse?” I repeat in shock. “In what neighborhood?”
“Mine.”
I’m momentarily stunned, uttering half-finished responses before croaking out a simple, “How?”
She sighs, as if fatigued by our conversation. “Mercy and Wolfgang thought it fair to donate me some land.” She pauses. “They gave me half of your neighborhood.”
“Half of my neighbor — and no one bothered telling me?” I sputter out loudly, a mixture of shock and anger lacing my voice.
She shrugs and looks away. “Not my problem.”
I gnash my teeth together, my heart beating wildly with indignation.
I need to find Mercy.
I raise a finger toward Veil. “This is not over.”
It’s a threat. A promise. A vow.
I don’t let her protest before I storm out.
