Page 156

“This is incredible,” she murmured.

But something had changed. The playfulness faded. In its place sat something quieter. More fragile. We ate in silence. I watched as she devoured every bite, sliding the sliced apple into her mouth.

I’d never felt a sense of pride as I did sitting there watching her eat what I’d prepared. Every bite was branded into my memory until she sat back and sighed deeply. “I’m so full.”

I smiled taking a sip of my coffee. “Good.”

“It all changes now, doesn’t it?”

My smile died. I gave a slow nod. “Yes.”

There was a tremble in her exhale. She stared at the empty plate. Her fingers traced the edge. Then she stood. “Right.” She gathered the plates. “I’m ready.”

I didn’t move, not right away at least. Instead I watched the turning of the tide, hating every second of it. And I was grateful for every second of it too. Then I followed her, rising and gathering the plates.

We didn’t speak. Just carried the plates to the kitchen. She rinsed each plate, loading them onto the rack before drying her hands. I didn’t touch her even though I’d bleed just to brush my lips across her skin. But this wasn’t time for that anymore.

She placed the dishtowel onto the railing and headed slowly for the doorway, stopping just inside. I followed and together we made for the rear of the house. Wind howled as we stepped outside. The estate was battered, trees uprooted and bare, the heady scent of fresh earth clung to the air. We walked together, but I didn’t reach for her hand. Our shoulders brushed once as Nyssa slowed long enough for me to stride ahead. She stopped at my side as I entered the code and pushed the door open wide.

She hesitated, staring into the empty room. I caught the slight tremble of her hand. But then she clenched it into a fist. I waited for her, letting the decision be completely hers. She did, releasing her fist and quietly stepped inside.

An ache tore through my chest. I knew exactly what she was facing and I also knew the sheer strength it was taking for her to just be here. I stepped inside, closing the door behind us. I made for the middle of the room, watching as she waited near the wall for a minute before slowly making her way toward me.

“What do you need?”

She stepped closer and stopped in front of me. There was a settling in her gaze. A hardness I’d never seen before. This was a whole new Nyssa I was looking at. One with steel in her spine and an unshakable need to survive.

Her chest rose, then fell hard.

“Listen,” she said.

One word. That was it.

I gave a slow nod and waited for her.

Her gaze turned unfocused. She was back there, hovering at the edge of darkness. Then she started to speak⁠—

“He always paused before entering, like he savoured every second of my terror.”

Warmth bled from me.

“He never hurried. Sometimes staying outside my door until I thought maybe I’d imagined him…” She turned her head, moving her haunted stare to me. “But I never did, and I realized that is what he liked most of all. That flicker of hope, the ache of desperation that maybe… maybe he wouldn’t come. But he did. He always did. He opened the door and I knew—I knew him even better than I knew myself. I mapped my days and my nights by him. By his visits. By the cruelty. By the pain.”

“How many footsteps.”

“What?”

“Footsteps, Nyssa. How many? More than there should be, or less?”

“Less.” She answered, her voice sounded far away.

I hated myself for putting her there. But I needed her there for as long as she could stand it.

“Is there anything about the way he walks? Does he drag a foot?”

She shook her head. “No. But…” She waited. “One foot hit harder than the other.”

“Harder, or was the other foot lighter?”