I try again. “Don’t you think it’s going to be weird, waking up in the morning, with only two bags to call your own?”
A small smile curves Jonah’s lips that smacks strongly of vindication, like he’s tried this argument, too, and failed.
“Now, I can’t exactly speak from experience,” I continue, walking away from the windows, over to where they’re standing, “because when I woke up in Alaska morning after morning, I knew what to expect. But I’m pretty sure that when you wake up tomorrow morning with a head full of new memories, you will be utterly confused as to why you only have two bags of belongings, even if you believe you just moved somewhere new.”
From the look on his face, this appears to be the one thing Kellan hasn’t considered in all of his plans.
“While you two are ...” I swallow and force the words out. “At Guard HQ, let me arrange for movers to take your clothes and some furniture to wherever it is you’re going. I can even have them keep everything in boxes, so it will feel like you just got there.”
“C,” he murmurs, “the point of you staying behind is so you don’t know where I end up.”
I swallow again. My throat is so dry and sticky and thick. “I don’t have to know. The movers can discuss the location with Zthane. I’m just saying ... let me do this for you. So when you wake up in the morning, you won’t have questions that you can’t answer immediately. That ... you have a bed to sleep on. Clothes to wear. Shampoo and a brush for your hair, a tea kettle and cups and plates to have meals with.”
He murmurs my name again; there is so much raw pain in those two syllables.
“You won’t know what they mean. They ... they’ll just be things to you. Your things. They won’t be memories.”
“Okay,” he finally says. “But ... it’s a smaller place. You can’t send everything.” And then, more quietly, “Please. No photos. I ... I can’t—” He breaks off, turning away from us.
But not before I see the tears in his eyes.
Zthane calls about an hour later. They’re ready for him.
Panic claws at my insides so ferociously it’s a miracle I can stand. He’s leaving. He’s leaving us. He’s leaving me.
By tonight, he’ll be gone forever.
I forget how to breathe. All I can do is go to Jonah and hold him tight and kiss him and swear that everything will be all right. Reassure him I’ll be here waiting for him. That I always will be. And then he walks out the door first, telling Kellan he’ll meet him downstairs.
This man for whom I tore my life apart so many times stands before me, his heart in his hands one last time.
I love you, I want to tell him.
Oh gods, I love him so very, very much.
“I wish you nothing but happiness,” is what I end up saying. And then I wrap my arms around him and hold him tight, reveling in the feel of his body against mine for the very last time. I want to kiss him, press my mouth against his once more so I can drown in the feelings that his kisses inspire in me, but ... I gave up the right the day I chose Jonah.
I press my lips against his cheek instead.
His breath comes out shuddery and soft as we stand there in the silence of his apartment.
“I wish you nothing but happiness, too,” he finally murmurs. “Promise me you’ll never stop chasing that. Promise me you and my brother will have the very best of happy endings.”
Gods, it’s at such a high cost. Too high. Even still, I whisper against his chest, “I promise.” How can I not, when he is sacrificing so much for us?
When he presses a lingering kiss to my forehead, I close my eyes and breathe him in this final time, praying silently I will never forget this scent, or the feel of his arms around me, or the way my heart flutters so very strongly in his presence.
I whisper, my words barely discernable in the silence of the apartment, “I love you.”
He tells me he loves me, too.
All too soon the moment is over. Cool air swirls around me and a door clicks shut before I open my eyes again. And I’m left in an empty apartment alongside a lifetime of regret.