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“It was my actions which indirectly caused Ryot’s wife to be killed in action. It’s why he’s angry with me. I’ve tried to speak with him about this, but he refuses to engage in conversation. If this is the only way to communicate with him then I’ll take it.” If this is the only way to get some kind of redemption, then I’ll take that, too. I deserve to be beaten up by Ryot for the grief my actions caused him. “It’ll force a conversation, at the very least.”
“There are better ways to build bridges with Ryot.”
“But none that will give him a chance to get some of the frustration out of his system.”
Knox begins to speak, but I brush past him and toward Ryot.
"You’re going to lose," Ryot’s voice is gravelly from un-use. Since his wife’s death, he’s retreated into himself. He’s taken to speaking only when absolutely necessary. I’m responsible for that. My heart seizes up. My stomach pitches like I’ve been caught in an automobile pile up.
"Ryot." I curl my fingers into fists at my sides. "I’m so fucking sorry for what you went through.”
"Yet, you maintain that you wouldn’t take back your order for anything?" he snaps.
"I had to make a split-second decision between saving a few lives and saving those of thousands. You’d have done the same if you were in my position.”
“Don’t compare yourself to me. We are nothing alike.” His gaze turns venomous.
"Fucking hell!" I grab the back of my neck and squeeze. "It’s why we need this fight. You need to take out your grievance against me?—"
"I’ll kill you." There’s a note of finality in his tone, which sends a chill down my spine.
"Probably,"—I set my jaw—"but I’m willing to take that chance if it helps clear the air between us."
He scoffs.
"You’re right, probably unlikely, but I have to try.” I take a step forward, he growls. But for the first time since his wife died, a gleam comes into his eyes. Some of that despair in his gaze fades.
He looks me up and down. "You’re old."
"That your excuse?" I taunt him, not because I want to sharpen his pain, but because I need him to fight me.
He bares his teeth. "It’s your funeral, asshole. Pick a date and time."
"How about tomorrow night?"
9
Vivian
"You need help packing?" Lizzie asks from the phone screen.
"No, thanks. Though, I'm beginning to forget you exist outside of a device!” I waggle a finger at her. “If I accept Q's proposal, I'll have a space for you to come visit me.”
'You're considering it?" she cries.
“I am,” I confess.
Her forehead wrinkles. “Have you seen Felix since the uh... wedding?”
That was three days ago. “I haven’t seen him at work. He hasn’t been home, either.” Not that I’m complaining. I pop a shoulder. “He paid the rent for the rest of the month on this place. Now that our wedding is off, there's no way can I live here.” I came home today and realized I had to start packing.
Ideally, I’ll be out of here before he returns. But I’ve been so exhausted, I haven’t been able to muster the energy to get my stuff together.
"Where are you going to move to?" Lizzie’s question makes me sigh.
"I’m not sure."
There’s silence on her end. When I glance at her on the screen, it’s to find a worried look on her face.
