Font size: - +
I ran to the bedroom and closed the door, then I jumped on the bed and cried as if my life was depending on it. This whole set up was a mess from the very start. He already planned everything, and I wasn't a part of it. He was going to leave. I knew that this was going to happen. My intuition was right—that we would part ways, and he will live his life without me. I already saw it coming, but what was wrong with me? I was the one who wanted him to heal and live his life.
Why am I like this? Didn't you see his face?
His wounds were eating his flesh. He needed to be cured. He waited long enough, and it could ruin his whole life if he didn’t. What did I actually want?
I wiped away my
“Alayna? Open the door, please. Let's talk.” Brandon knocked on the door.
I heaved a sigh then opened the door. I sniffed. “I... I'm sorry.”
He shook his head, his expression tortured. “I never wanted us to part.”
“I know,” I said. “It must be hard for you, too. I know you have reasons.”
He touched my face, brushing my cheek with his thumb. “I do and believe me or not, you are a part of my every plan.”
“Stop telling me that it's because of me!” I snapped.
He was surprised. He backed away his hand. His face tormented.
“Do you truly understand what's going to happen in a year? We're not even sure if you are still you. You wanted to hunt down the people who hurt you.”
“Did you thought I didn't think of that? You wanted to leave rather than stay in Manhattan because you wanted to fix your family issues and I am okay with that. I am really good with that, but do stop telling me that it's about me because if it is… you will stay with me.”
Brandon’s shoulders fell, unable to answer.
“I am okay with that, and I'm thrilled that you wanted to finally do this,” I assured him, forcing myself to smile. “I will always be here, but as I had said, we wouldn't know what's going to happen. Everything is going to change.”
“My feelings for you will never change,” he promised. He closed his eyes, then nodded. A drop of tear fell from as he closed his eyes. “I'm so sorry, Alayna.”
“Don't be.” I touched his face. “You should have decided to do this a long time ago, you know?” A soft sob escaped his lips then I slid my arms around his waist, clasping his hard rock body.
“It will be torture without you,” he mumbled hoarsely.
“That is why you have to heal really fast. I'm looking forward to seeing you without the mask, without the scar and everything. I'm sorry if I walked away. I'm just so, so mad and surprised.”
“Is this going to be our last night together?” I said bitterly.
He did not answer because we both knew the answer. He answered me by embracing me tightly, burying his face on my neck. I could hear him weeping so softly—like a child crying soundlessly.
The next morning, Cassius finally came to breakfast. He gave Brandon a brotherly hug then occasionally patted his back as if they were longing to hold each other for a long time. It was brief but emotional. They had fought long enough, and they were each other's best friend.
Cassius flashed out a weak smile when he saw me. It was the different side of the Cassius I saw before. He wasn't the Cassius I met at Brandon's house. He had a dark under eyes, like shadows—the mark of a sleepless night.
“Hi,” he greeted me.
“Hey,” I smiled back.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “You ready?”
“Yes,” I sighed. “How about Brandon?”
“I'm safe here. No one knows I'm here except Cassius and Oliver. I asked him not to tell his fiancée, and he understands,” Brandon said in a low voice. He stepped next to me, slipped his hand around my waist.
“There’s another sudden change of plan. I was supposed to take back the two girls, but because of what happened, we should be more careful,” Cassius said, understanding the whole situation. “Oliver's coming here alone in a while to get you, Brandon. He took her fiancée back home last night. You know my brother, and for him, family's more important.”