Chapter 45 Darius
Darius
Iwatch her from the tree line.
She’s talking to rocks again. From here, I can’t hear what she’s saying, but it guts me.
Because I’m the reason she spent three years talking to rocks and sticks.
I’m the reason she had to survive all alone in the wilderness.
If I’d killed these males ten years ago instead of showing mercy, she never would have suffered.
Sophie wouldn’t have been broken. Mo wouldn’t have been sewn shut and sold like livestock.
Every scar on her body, every nightmare that wakes her screaming, every flinch when someone moves too fast, that’s on me.
“You can’t stand out here forever.”
Archer. I didn’t hear him approach. Which means he didn’t want me to.
“I’m not standing here. I’m keeping watch.”
“You’re torturing yourself.”
“Same thing.”
He sighs. “She’s forgiven you, you know. Or she’s trying to.”
“I don’t deserve it.”
“Probably not.” He’s always honest. It’s why he’s my second. “But she’s giving it anyway. Don’t waste it.”
He claps a hand on my shoulder. “Go talk to her. Stop lurking in the woods like a creep.”
“What would I even say?”
“Start with ‘I’m sorry.’ Move on to ‘I love you.’ See where it goes from there.”
I stare at him. “I can’t—”
“You can. You’re just scared.” He pushes me forward. “Go.”
I take three steps forward. Then stop.
She deserves better than this. Better than me.
But I’m too selfish to let her go.