Page 111 of Hell Hath No Fury

But then he asks, “What are you thinking?”

I smile lazily. “It’s silly.”

“Tell me anyway.”

Sighing, I respond, “I was just wondering what other things you’d do for me.”

“Absolutely anything,” he replies easily, but then he pauses, giving me a stern look as he adds, “Except leave you. That would never happen.”

My smile broadens, my tone teasing as I say, “Would you crawl for me?”

“Every fucking day,” he answers automatically. “Anytime, anywhere.”

I narrow my eyes, raising my brows as I ask, “How do you feel about enclosed spaces?”

His expression mirrors mine, humor glinting in his eyes as he retorts, “I’m not entirely sure, but try anything once. Right?”

I laugh, my hands clutching his side as I respond, “Maybe we’ll give the box a miss…for now.”

He laughs, too, knowing exactly what I’m referring to, but then his expression softens, and he presses his forehead against mine as he says softly. “I love you.”

“I know,” I whisper back, his answering smile a reminder that he also knows.

He’s silent for a long moment, his eyes serious as he continues to stare at me. Then, he whispers, “Can you believe we made it?”

“Sometimes, I worry that I’ll wake up, and it won’t be real,” I confess, a slight hitch to my voice as I add, “Promise you’ll never let go.”

His hand moves to cup my cheek, his thumb stroking the edge of my bottom lip as he leans in, pressing a hard kiss against my mouth before he pulls back, his eyes glowing with emotion as he professes, “I’ll never let go.”

I smile and lean into him, tucking my hands into my chest as he wraps me tightly in his embrace, his breath a comforting heat against my neck.

And then, for what feels like the first time in my life, I breathe.

The End

Bonus Epilogue One

A Traumatic Resolution

Antoinette

Theysaythathealingis not linear.

Sure, the sharp claws of grief will slowly release over time, and you’ll learn to ebb and flow with the infinite emotions left in its wake. Nothing will ever be the same, but at some point, you’ll wake up, and it will just be different. You’ll breathe a bit easier, the constant ache in your chest becoming less and less as the years continue to march on, and eventually, everyday life will take on a slightly distorted picture of what it always was.

But I’ve found the same cannot be said when you’re grieving your own self.

Healing the loss of oneself is more like water swirling down a drain. It has no beginning and no end. It spins upon itself, around and around and around, the constant feed of anger and bitterness never allowing it to dissipate.

Sometimes, it’s a hurricane where all those volatile emotions build and build until they reach category five and begin to take out anyone in its path. But at least a hurricane has some peace at its center, as opposed to the tornado that sets down in a flash, with no warning, no introduction—just instant thunderclaps and lightning, heartbreak and destruction.

One never thinks this would happen to them, and even then, you’re certain it could never happen again, which makes this last event a good reminder of how good I had it that first time.

I mean, sure, this sounds incredibly preposterous when I think about it, but at the end of the day, my previous episode with amnesia was a walk in the park. Darius made sure of it. Tony, Matt, and even Lilith, too. They all watched over me and protected me, letting me be whatever version of myself my mind decided it wanted to be on any given day without comment or criticism. They followed along behind me, sweeping up my messes and doing their due diligence to make sure I wouldn’t hurt myself or anyone else. They enforced boundaries on themselves and me, often sacrificing their own wants and needs in the process.

Of course, this is not at all what happened the last time, and now, I’m fortunate enough to be surrounded by people who want to help me, who want to see me succeed in finding myself again regardless of how many times I drag them down into the darkness with me.

This also means they have zero problem calling me out for being a dickhead. Tony has probably done it more than anyone. He has taken me to task more times than I can count, his ability to see through to the very heart of things so finely tunedthat sometimes he catches me while I’m still in the process of formulating my attack.

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