73. Seventy-Three
Seventy-Three
Kimberly
I opened my eyes. The dirty cell slowly came into view. Aaron was on the other side of the bars, rubbing my back.
“Did it work?” I asked. “I couldn’t see anything. It wasn’t the same as before, but the chanting was correct, I think.”
“It worked,” he muttered while tracing along my jaw. “That’s how I knew where to find the real dagger.”
My world was expanding, and I finally took in his condition. Blood stained his shirt at his side and his chest. His arms had rubble and sticks embedded in them.
“Oh my god, are you okay? I told Thane to get to you.”
“He did. He blew up the cathedral door, and I was able to escape. Otherwise, Sirius would have definitely killed me.”
“You fought Sirius?”
“Yeah. It’s a long story. But I need that dagger.”
I handed it to him without another thought.
“Right. We need to go and finish this. Did you get the key to let me out?” I asked, knowing what was coming next.
My time was almost up. It was too fast. I needed more time with him. To tell him all the things I didn’t know I needed to say yet. To show how much I wanted this life with him. But I had to die. I didn’t know why my death needed to happen. It didn’t matter. I finally had a family, and they were worth dying for.
“Kim, I think I figured out something you’re not going to like.”
I think I knew too. That there was some loophole somewhere I hadn’t accounted for.
“What is it?”
He took the dagger and stood up.
“What are you doing?”
“Please don’t be mad at me.”
“Aaron, let me out. I have to go to the battle. It’s the only way this ends well. I have to. Cecily said—”
He reached for me between the bars, and even through the roaring of blood in my head and the anger, I let him grab me and pull me close.
“I know. But I figured out the message. The visions the stars gave you. It wasn’t a warning. It was showing you the right path. The thing that was supposed to happen. I know how to save my brothers.”
He didn’t say it, but I knew. My heart was tearing. I was breaking from the inside.
“No. No. No. Let me out. I’ll go with you. We’ll do it together.”
“You know I can’t let you go with me because you’ll try to stop me. And I love that about you, but this time I have to do this. You have to let me do this.”
“You can’t go. You know what will happen.”
Nothing could have prepared me for the grief. I think I always knew but wouldn’t admit it to myself. I wanted it to be me. It would have been easier to die than to live without him.
“It’s going to work out. This is going to be over, and we’ll be free. I still think it’s going to be okay. Somehow, this is going to work out, and we’re going to go home. Believe with me.”
I couldn’t. The price was too high. The tears poured down my cheeks, and I reached for him, like it would stop time. Like I’d have more time with him. Like it wasn’t the end.
He pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to me. Through tears, I straightened it. Our forever list.
“Promise me you’ll try.”
He had a place he needed to be, and I had to let him. As much as I wanted to scream and beg him to stay, I couldn’t say a word. We’d agreed on our mission. One that was just and right with the world, even if it didn’t feel right to the emotion threatening to cave in my chest.
“Don’t say goodbye to me, Aaron Calem.”
“Never. I don’t think we were ever meant to say goodbye anyway. Probably why it’s been impossibly hard.”
“I think you’re right.”
He kissed me through the bars, and the swirl of emotions threatened to topple me to the ground. Not goodbye. A see you later. My mind screamed at me in desperation, forcefully playing tug of war and fighting the urge to beg him to stay. I wanted to beg. To plead.
“I love you.” I staggered out a breath. Trying to keep my voice steady and not let the grief keep me from him. I opened myself further. “I’ll try. I promise.”
“I love you, Mrs. Calem.” He leaned his head onto the bars until our foreheads touched. “I’ll find you.”
He didn’t shed a single tear. Somehow, he was still smiling. The bright kind of smile that only eternally optimistic people do. That kind that made me want to believe this wasn’t our last moment together. That maybe just maybe when he disappeared from my sight it wouldn’t be the last time I looked at that golden hair and the light in his eyes.
He broke away from me and disappeared into the corridor, running.
Our time was up.