Page 115 of When Hearts Ignite

My eyes glaze over as I recite the events to them, my voice monotonous, for the emotions have already rendered me into a ghost of my former self. I tell them about my memory of the rainy night, how Grace and I fell in love, how I finally found peace in my soul, and how Mother tore it apart when she revealed to me the truth of the past.

The group was quiet, the silence heavy when I finished telling them everything that transpired. A cheer sounds from far away, spectators no doubt enjoying the race of flashy cars and rich people with nothing better to do than to tempt death.

I grab the whiskey from Maxwell again, and this time, he hands it over freely. Taking a large swig, I flinch at the renewed pounding in my head.

“What are you going to do?” Ryland asks from in front of me. He gently takes the bottle from my hand.

I shake my head. “What can I do? I’ll have to let her go. But I won’t tell her why. It’ll kill her. I’d rather be one of the rich assholes she’s used to in the past. I’ll disappear from her life. The past year has been nothing but a beautiful dream. And like every dream, we have to eventually wake up.”

The words tear inside my chest, sinking their talons into the muscle and digging, but I barely feel the pain anymore.

Even in my drunken stupor, it doesn’t feel right. I know she deserves the truth from me, but in this one selfish moment, I’m too obliterated from everything to think clearly.

Because everything inside me is scything agony. I can’t even take a breath without feeling like I’ll keel over from the heartbreak.

I guess I’ve now experienced the crippling blow of heartbreak cutting out my knees from under me.

I chuckle mirthlessly, thinking back to the thoughts I had a year ago when I was still an unemotional block of ice, saying farewell to Liesel in the Rose suite, not knowing my life was about to turn upside down.

My mind is filled with Grace. A rotating slideshow of soft smiles, brilliant eyes, of random factoids of the world, to her alluring smell of jasmine, her warmth, her touch, her intoxicating love.

She’s the other half of my soul and now I’m dealing with it being torn away, fates ripping it apart seam by seam, tossing everything into the flames of hell.

If I get to do it all again, I’d stay away from her.

Anything to prevent this pain and agony, which I know will devastate her.

It’ll hurt her and that’s the one thing I can’t bear.

Regret, my most hated emotion, cloaks over me like a plastic bag on my face, slowly suffocating me as the oxygen runs out.

“Don’t you think you owe it to her to tell her the truth?” Ryland murmurs, his fingers fiddling with a pebble from the ground. “She deserves to know.”

“I’m sick, you know.” My words are slurring now. Finally. “I thought about being selfish. Before I told you guys, no one knew the truth. If I don’t tell anyone, and my parents won’t tell anyone of this shame, no one else has to know. She doesn’t have to know. I could pretend nothing happened and still be with her.”

The dark thoughts have haunted me ever since I found out the truth.

Sick. Corrupted heart. Vile.

My mind spun with possibilities. We could adopt. We could move far away and leave this world behind us. We could change our names and hide our identities. She’d never have to know she’s related to me. I could still love her and bask in her warmth, and no one would know.

It’s sick and I’m disgusted with myself.

It’s wrong.

And whenever I could fall asleep, whether on the plane or in my apartment earlier, my dreams would be filled with her—her kisses, our bodies coming together in a union so much more than the physical, her screams when she tremors in pleasure underneath me as I pound into her, chasing out my demons. Her laughter, the twinkle in her eyes.

The way she says I love you because she does love me, wholeheartedly, desperately, just like the way I love her.

When I’d wake up, I’d find my face wet with tears, my hands clutching the pillow she used before against me, my lungs drawing in the faint fragrance of jasmine, a smell that’s fading away, just like my life is without her by my side.

Ryland creeps closer and clasps me on the shoulder. “Steven. Steven, look at me.” His voice is terse. A command.

I glance up.

“Don’t make any rash decisions. You’re not in the right frame of mind right now. Talk to her. You owe her that. If you love her as much as you do, you owe her the truth.”

“Some of us aren’t allowed to tell the truth…I of all people, understand that,” Maxwell begins, his words cryptic, “but in your case, I think you should tell her. She needs to hear it from you. Didn’t you say she’s looking for her father? Eventually, she’ll find out. It’s better for her to learn it from you.”

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