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Why couldn’t she be someone else, someone who didn’t grip my heart so fiercely?
If only my soul hadn’t clung to hers, things would’ve been so much easier.
Reality hit me hard, a heavy feeling sinking in.
This was it.
It was the last time I could have her close, and it tore me up inside. In just a few hours, she’d be gone for good.
But the thought of losing her, never feeling her touch again, hit me like a punch in the gut.
I realized then, a part of me would go with her.
Fuckin’ Hell.
I’m in love with her.
No.
Shit, no.
That’s impossible.
“I’m sorry for Igor,” she said, her voice low, staring at the ceiling. “It’s all my fault.”
Losing Igor felt like losing a second father.
In the Silas gang, we were used to brushing off grief and moving on, treating death as routine, but Igor’s passing meant more to me. It wasn’t something I could easily dismiss. Fucking her behind his back and keeping those secrets for weeks, waiting for him to find out, made me sick with self-disgust. My mind drifted back to the times he taught me to shoot, guided me through the forest, and treated me like family. He showed me how to fight, track enemies, drive, and drink like a man. His deep laughter echoed in my head during our cigar sessions and early morning runs.
Now those memories were bittersweet reminders of what I’d lost, of the man who stood by me when no one else did.
I wished I could rewind time, undo my choices, but life doesn’t work that way, does it?
The last time I cried was decades ago when I lost my father, and now Igor’s death brought me full circle.
“It’s not your fault,” I whispered. “It’s mine.”
“No, I-”
“What should I do with Helena?” I cut her off.
After the mess earlier tonight, Dve had brought Helena to the cabin back in the garden, waiting for my orders.
Honestly, I couldn’t care less about her.
Dead or alive, she was useless to me.
But I knew Sofiya would want to see her, or at least talk to her.
Despite everything, she was still her mother, or at least the woman who had raised her.
Turning my head to the side, I glanced at Sofiya. Her eyes were filled with quiet tears, her trembling lower lip catching my attention.
We locked eyes, and instinctively, I reached out, brushing away a lone tear from her cheek.
“I don’t know…”
She leaned into my hand, rubbing her cheek against my palm, then placed her hand on top of mine.
