Page 224 of Their Arrangement
Garnet.
Curled in on itself like it missed her.
The garnet still caught the light. Even in the dim. Like it knew it had been left behind. Like it had witnessed something I hadn’t.
I stared at it for a long time. Long enough that my eyes started to burn. I didn’t touch it. Not at first.
I juststood there.
Frozen.
Reading her absence like scripture. This wasn’t a mistake. She didn’t lose it. She didn’t forget it. She left it. On purpose. Deliberate. Quiet. Final.
I reached down slowly. Picked it up. Felt the weight of it settle into my palm like it belonged there. But it didn’t feel like it used to. It was cold now. Too cold.
I turned it over.
Let it pool across my knuckles.
It slid like regret.
Slick.
Sharp.
Soft in the way silk is soft when it’s being used to bind. I dropped it. Not because I wanted to. Because I couldn’t fucking breathe.
The chain hit the wood with a sound that felt like being punched in the chest. I turned away. Paced to the window. Pressed both palms against the glass like I could feel her on the other side of it.
The city didn’t stop moving. Didn’t slow. Didn’t care. I did. I cared more than I knew how to say. And now she was gone.And the only thing she left behind? Was the part of herself I gave her. That wasn’t an accident. It was a message. And I’d just read it.
I reached in.
Touched it.
Lifted it slowly, like it might break under its own weight. The silk slid through my fingers. Still warm. Still carrying her scent—faint lavender, Wolfe’s shirt, heat.
I pressed it into my palm.
Tighter.
Enough to bite.
The garnet glinted under the light like it remembered fire. She wore this when I touched her. When she begged. Whenshe whispered thank you like it was the last truth she had left in her.
And now?
She left it.
Not lost.
Not misplaced.
Left.
I wrapped the chain around my knuckles once. Then unwrapped it. Set it down gently. Like if I handled it too roughly, I’d be admitting what it meant. I stared at it for a long time. Didn’t touch it. Didn’t need to. Because I already knew what it meant. She didn’t lose it. She didn’t forget it. She left it.
I backed away from the desk.
