“Please say something,” he begs. “Tell me what I can do to make this right.”
“Nothing.” My voice feels rusty when I finally answer him. “There’s nothing you can do to make this right.”
“No.” He leans over me, dipping his forehead to mine. “I will fix this. Just tell me how. I need to know how.”
“I was wrong.” Another tear spills from the corner of my eye. “I thought I could withstand anything you threw my way, but I can’t. I can’t survive you.”
“Don’t talk like that.” He silences me with his lips.
I let him kiss me, allowing myself to feel him for the last time. It would be so easy to get swept up in his intoxicating power all over again. He is the embodiment of addiction for me. But I can’t keep fighting for something if I’m the only one fighting for it.
“I just want you to be happy,” I whisper against him.
Whether it’s with or without me.
“Ella—”
“I’m very tired.” I close my eyes and roll away from him. “I need to sleep now.”
Thorsen slips out of bed early in the morning, just as he has done every day for the past two weeks. Usually, in these early hours, I can hear him conducting business on the phone while he paces the hall. He doesn’t like to leave, but inevitably, his duties call him away for the better part of the afternoons. It’s a difficult concept to grasp that things have changed so much in such a short period. He’s the king now, and he should be at the palace, living his life, taking control of the situation there. Yet every night, he’s here with me.
We haven’t spoken about his father’s death, and a part of me feels guilty for that. I couldn’t be mentally present at a time when he really needed me. But I’m emotionally bankrupt right now, or at least, that’s how it feels. I think the part that hurts the most is what he told me himself. I was never anything more than a toy to him. Now, he’s engaged to Lavinia, and even if I could help him, there’s not room for me in this picture.
It’s that sentiment that coaxes me from the bed after he leaves this morning. I’m functioning on autopilot when I pack a few outfits from the closet in my guest suite, stuffing them into one of Thorsen’s backpacks. When I’m done with that, I grab the purse I had on me when he brought me here and the messenger bag with the two blue bottles.
As I look around the room where it all began, it feels like my chest is caving in on me. I don’t think I’ll ever get over him, and as hurt as I am, it still takes all my courage to walk away. I shed one last tear for my loss. A loss so huge I’m not certain I’ll ever recover.
From my bag, I retrieve the letter I wrote yesterday, explaining my actions. It’s messy and raw, with lines scratched out where I tried to wish him well with Lavinia. As it turned out, everything I wrote was a lie. I couldn’t understand why he did this. And I couldn’t tell him I forgave him because he never apologized in the first place. In the end, the only thing I could say was that I wanted to walk away. Perhaps the biggest lie of all.
With an unsteady hand, I leave the letter for him on the bed and step out onto his balcony, tossing my things over the railing. I don’t want to draw any attention by walking past Lisbet with my things. But fortunately for me, she never seems to be all that concerned about what I’m doing anyway. When I get to the kitchen, she’s at the counter doing some food prep.
“Good morning.” She averts her gaze after she hears me come in. A part of me wonders if she feels guilty for leaving me in the bed when I begged her for help, but it doesn’t matter now. I can’t change what happened, and as awful as it was, I believe it happened for a reason.
“Would you like some breakfast?” she asks.
“No, thank you. I’m not hungry right now.”
She nods and goes back to her work, and I step out onto the terrace, closing the door behind me. Following the dirt path, I head for the slope beneath Thorsen’s balcony. Once I’ve collected my things, I take one last mental picture of the house that started to feel like a home. My eyes swim with unshed tears, but I promised myself I wasn’t going to cry anymore. So, I turn away and lift my chin and head for the beach.
After Dr. Blom gave me some money, which I reluctantly accepted, he made a casual observation. Thorsen has a rowboat he sometimes uses to cross the bay to the other side of the city. I didn’t ask him for any more details, but I suspected it was his way of telling me I had an out if I wanted one. He didn’t want to hurt Thorsen, but he didn’t want me to feel as though I had no options either. It was a difficult decision for him, I could tell, but I’m grateful when I find the rowboat easily.
It turns out to be a small vessel, just big enough for me and my things. After a few moments of struggling to get it into the water, and soaking myself in the process, I climb aboard and sit down.
The only experience I have rowing a boat was with my father when I was a child, but I get the hang of it quickly. Two sore arms and one hour later, I reach the other side. There’s a boat landing I use to depart, and from there, it’s a five-minute walk to the bus station. Every second that passes makes me more anxious Thorsen will discover I’m gone. Will Lisbet alert him when I don’t come back from outside? Will she even notice?
After the incident, his security has been busy installing cameras around the interior of the estate. But I don’t know how often he checks them or how much of a head start I’ll have. All I can do is focus on one breath to the next as I follow the route I carefully mapped out over the past few days. Thirty minutes and two bus changes later, I’m at the ferry terminal, purchasing my ticket. But it isn’t until I’m out on the open sea when I can finally breathe again.
The journey back to London is uneventful, but long, taking nearly two days by ferry and train. By the time I finally step foot back onto the familiar streets of Cranbrook, it feels like everything has changed. But I think it’s just me.
I don’t really have a plan after this, but I know what I want to do. After I get off the train, I walk to Olivia’s. She isn’t home when I arrive, and Alfred must be in the house, so I visit with the horses and then find a comfortable spot to rest in the barn until she comes back.
I want to call Charlotte, but I had to leave my phone behind. Thorsen could track it or use it as a way to contact me, and I’m just not strong enough for that yet.
Lying back in the hay, I stare up at the weathered wood roof and consider what my life will be like now. I already know I can’t go back to Narcissa’s. That isn’t even a question. Too much has changed, and I’m a different person now. When I close my eyes and try to dream of the future, it feels empty and hollow, but I manage to find some peace, at least long enough to slip off to sleep.
Something tickles my foot, and my eyes fly open. A pungent odor lingers in the air around me, and when I look down, my shirt is soaked through. I thought I forgot where I was, but I didn’t. I’m still here, in Olivia’s barn, but it isn’t Olivia standing over me.
“Lavinia.” I curse her name as I force myself upright, meeting her gaze. “What the hell are you doing?”
My eyes flick over the scattered contents of my bag on the ground, and it’s obvious she’s been rifling through my things. How long has she been there? How long was I completely vulnerable to her before I even realized there was a predator right in front of me? By now, I know her well enough to understand she came here for a reason. The haunting question is why.