Almost Ruined (Men of Evercrisp Orchard #3)

Chapter 1

Chapter one

Tytus

It’s bleak.

Where I am. Where I’m headed.

I’m so far down, so far gone, flailing, careening into the deepest, darkest of pits.

Here and there, as I fall, light shines through. Beams and bursts, flashes and glittering flecks of light like the freckles on Sawyer’s face.

My lungs are caving in on themselves; it will be over soon. Though I don’t deserve to see any semblance of light for all my remaining breaths, illumination persists.

Red and blue flashes.

Honey-colored irises flooded with tears.

A halo of copper red.

Instinct tells me to take a good look. To force my eyes open. To drink her in one last time.

When I do finally crack open one eye, she’s sad again.

She’s always sad because of me.

I crank open my jaw, ignoring the way it pops. But I can’t swallow past the dryness that’s taken away my ability to speak.

My lips part, her name on the tip of my tongue. But there’s not enough air.

No words come out.

I’m broken.

I break things.

Blinking, I banish the tears accumulating in my eyes. I won’t waste a single second of the time I have left doing anything other than soaking her in.

She’s an angel: a devastated, broken, permanently stained angel.

I’ve ruined her.

This is all my fault.

She’s crying again because of me.

“Mon ange.”

Instead of those two words, a warmth floods my throat. Hot, searing moisture rises, saturating the cracked, dry edges I was fighting against.

The sudden hydration should bring relief.

All I feel is pain.

It pools, cutting off my airway.

I can’t breathe.

Can’t think.

Can’t speak.

Won’t ever have the chance to tell her how fucking sorry I am that I always ruin everything.

I summon all my strength and focus on lifting my hand.

On pushing up, getting closer, so I can really take her in, one last time.

Her eyes go wide.

All the pain—all the panic that I always elicit—it’s written clear on her face.

No.

I don’t want to cause her pain. Not anymore. Not ever again.

My brain rages against my uncooperative body. Every cell hurts, and yet I keep pushing, trying in earnest to sit up, to get closer.

I open my mouth again. To try to tell her I’m sorry. To try to tell her I love her.

Instead of words, a garbled, wet cough breaks free.

A mix of blood and spittle bursts out of me, speckling Sawyer’s face.

Fuckin’ A.

She’s covered in blood.

I blink, na?vely hoping that will change the sight in front of me.

I want to reach out, I want to wipe it away.

I want to tell her I’m sorry, I want to tell her I love her.

Instead, I fall back and give in to the darkness.

I tried, mon ange.

I tried and I failed, and I could never love you the way you deserve.

I ruin everything.

I’m sorry I won’t be around to fix this.

I don’t deserve forgiveness. Even so, I’m sorry for everything. I never deserved you. I’ve never been worthy of your love.

My vision darkens, but I fight like hell to keep my eyes open and keep her in my line of sight. But I’m weak. My strength gone.

There’s darkness.

There’s warmth.

There’s heartbreak.

There’s her.

The last thing I hear before I fully slip under is her high-pitched, heartbreaking scream.