Her.
When she bends to retrieve her panties from the floor, I grab them first, stuffing them in my pocket without thinking. Her eyes meet mine, and the ghost of a smile flickers across her face before dying. The sight guts me—even now, she's trying to be strong for me.
"Keep them," she whispers. "Something to remember me by."
The words hit me like a physical blow. As if I could ever forget a single moment with her. As if every second we've shared isn't branded into every fiber of my being. I reach for her waist, unable to let her step away just yet. My hands span her ribcage, feeling her breath hitch under my palms.
"Listen to me, Red." My voice cracks on her nickname, each syllable feeling like ground glass in my throat. "These past weeks, seeing you again, learning the truth and loving you…" I press my forehead to hers, breathing her in like a drowning man getting his last taste of air. "You've given me back pieces of myself I thought were lost forever."
Her fingers curl around my wrists, anchoring me as my world spins apart.
"Promise me something?"
She nods, those forest-green eyes swimming with tears that she refuses to let fall.
"Keep painting. Keep creating beauty from chaos." My thumbs catch the tears she can't hold back, each one burning like acid against my skin. "Keep letting your light shine so bright it burns away the shadows." My voice drops to a whisper, rough with everything I can't say. "And be happy. God, Red, please be happy."
Her fingers tighten on my wrists, and I feel the slight tremor in them. "How can I be happy when you're taking my heart with you?" Her voice breaks on that last word, and she uses that nickname that undoes me completely. "Sainty, please..."
The sound of the nickname tears through my defenses like a bullet. I crush her to me one last time, memorizing the feel of her in my arms. The way she fits against me like she was crafted from my missing pieces.
"The penthouse is yours for as long as you need it," I manage, each word feeling like glass in my throat. "Stay as long as you want."
I force myself to turn away, to take those first impossible steps toward the door. Each footfall echoes like a death knell in my chest. Behind me, I hear her shaky breath, feel the weight of her gaze burning into my back.
At the threshold, I pause, my hand trembling on the doorknob.
"You were worth it all, Red." The words come out rough, raw, scraping my throat like broken glass. "Every moment. Every heartbeat. Even knowing how it ends. I'd choose you again. Every time."
Her broken whisper follows me into the hallway. "Thank you for showing me what real love feels like. Even if it was just for a little while."
The raw honesty in those words nearly shatters what's left of my resolve. Not an accusation or plea—just gratitude, even as I'm breaking her heart. Even as I'm walking away.
I close the door, the soft click of the latch feeling like the end of everything. My forehead presses against the cool wood as I struggle to breathe around the vise crushing my chest. The scent of her still clings to my skin, a cruel reminder of what I have to walk away from.
I love you. I love you enough to let you go.
The words slice through me like serrated blades as I force myself down the hallway to Ethan's room. My knuckles are white around my suitcase handle, each step taking me further from everything that matters. Each footfall echoes with finality—the sound of a heart shattering, of dreams dying, of chains tightening.
Ethan opens his door before I can knock, one look at my face telling him everything.
"Promise me," my voice cracks, splintering on emotion I can barely contain. "Promise you'll look after her."
"Ares—"
"She can't be alone right now." The words tumble out, desperate and raw. "She'll try to be strong, try to handle it herself, but she needs... she needs someone to..." I can't finish, my throat closing around the truth: she needs me, and I'm walking away.
"Hey." Ethan's hand grips my shoulder, grounding me. "I've got her. I promise. I won't let her go through this alone."
I manage a jerky nod, not trusting myself to speak. My phone vibrates—the driver, right on schedule. Like the universe itself is conspiring to tear me away from her.
"Are you sure about this?" Ethan's voice is quiet, serious.
I lift my gaze to his, and whatever he sees there makes him step back, his jaw tightening. He squeezes my shoulder once more before letting go, the gesture heavy with understanding.
The city blurs past the car window, a kaleidoscope of lights and shadows that mock me with their beauty. Every street corner holds a memory—Red laughing in the rain, paint smudged on her cheek, her fingers tangled with mine. The small dimple that appears when she really smiles. The way she fits against me like she was crafted from my missing pieces.
In the jet, Boston's lights fade to pinpricks beneath me. I press my forehead against the cool window, my breath fogging the glass. The taste of true happiness lingers on my tongue like the last sip of a favorite wine, knowing there will never be another bottle.
