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The shadows around him stir, curling closer. The room seems to dim.

“But if you’re gone,” he continues, backing away, his hand slipping from mine with a lingering touch, “I’ll learn to live with my loneliness.”

He pauses at the edge of the darkness, his gaze locking with mine one last time.

He opens his mouth, then quickly snaps it shut, leaving unspoken whatever final words he had left to say.

And then, he is gone.

Chapter fourteen

This Is My Choice

For the first time, I can truly feel Oberon’s absence.

He always leaves behind a lingering sense of loneliness, but this time is different. The cabin usually feels a little lighter when he is gone, as if he took all the tension with him wherever he went. But now, the weight of his words still hangs in the air, pressing down on me, making my body feel heavy, immovable even.

I stand in the middle of the empty cabin, my head spinning out of control, paralyzed by my own thoughts for what feels like an eternity. The cool, metallic object, his parting gift, remains clenched tightly in my hand.

Summoning all my will, I force myself to move toward the door. I have to step outside to test the barrier that no longer holds me. I can’t feel it anymore, the magic that once clung to the walls, the ever-constant pull that reminded me I was a prisoner, has dissipated. But deep in my gut, doubt gnaws at me. Could it possibly be this easy?

Walk out the door, I tell myself. Just walk out the door.

It should be so simple. But my body won’t move and doesn’t dare believe freedom is possible.

Hope has been such a foreign thing, so long gone.

The only hope I have allowed myself in all this time is to wake up each morning still breathing. Even that, sometimes, has felt like too much. There were moments when I let my mind wander, wondering how much easier it would be if I didn’t wake up at all.

With trembling legs, I force myself to take one step.

Then another.

Slowly, I close the gap between myself and the door, the only thing separating me from freedom.

My hand shakes uncontrollably as I reach for the handle, my throat tightening and raw, and each breath feels impossible. The world seems to hold its breath with me.

As I pull the door open, the mid-afternoon breeze slams into my face, filling my senses. I try to breathe, but my entire body remains frozen. The stillness catches in my chest, threatening to stop my heart altogether.

I want to take that final step, to leave the cabin behind and never look back. But fear keeps me rooted in place, hovering just beyond the threshold. The fear that if I try, I will feel the barrier again. The fear that freedom is always still just out of reach.

Seconds? Minutes? I don’t know how long I stand there, staring out the door, breathing in the fresh air, feeling the breeze on my skin.

I remain paralyzed, before I finally coax my foot from where it was heavily planted and dare to take a step to the other side. Relief floods through every nerve in my body as I take the first step, standing just outside the cabin door.

Emotions sweep over me in waves, almost too much to bear. My legs wobble, begging to give out beneath the weight of the burdens I have carried for so long. Stumbling through the grass, I make my way to the center of the clearing. There, I throw my head back and stretch my arms wide, soaking up every bit of the sun’s rays that it so generously grants me.

I breathe deeply, letting the breeze carry away some of the pressure I have been holding inside. I take another deep breath as I allow my body to absorb the warmth, letting it seep into every crevice of my being.

My knees give out, and I let myself drop, running my fingers through the earth, feeling the blades of grass slip between them. I breathe in the rich scent of the dirt beneath my fingertips, grounding myself in the serenity of the moment.

Lowering myself further, I roll onto my back and stare up at the sky. The clouds drift lazily by, forming shapes that melt and reform. Thoughts rip through my mind, fears, questions, memories, but I push them all aside.

I won’t let them take up space in this moment. I know they will return. I know decisions still have to be made.

But not yet.

For hours, I lay there, the solid ground beneath me, the endless sky above. The breeze teases loose strands of my hair, playing with them, and for a moment, I let myself believe I can stay here forever.