XXIII
EDEN
Silas’ text had been simple.
Silas:
Meet me by the oak tree in the courtyard. Let’s talk.
And my reply had been too.
Eden:
No.
But he kept texting.
Silas:
Please, Eden. I need to see you.
I was standing my ground, until?—
Silas:
I made a terrible mistake. I need you. I can’t live without you. You’re my moon in a sky full of stars. I love you, Eden. Please let me apologize in person. I promise I’ll make it up to you.
I should have ignored it.
I should have deleted it and gone about my day, pushing forward like I had been. My head still hurts. My face is still bruised. I haven’t been able to eat or sleep since Silas’ return almost three days ago—I’m a shell of myself. I should have taken Lucian’s advice and stayed away from him after what he did to me.
But instead, I stare at my phone for what felt like an eternity, heart pounding, my mind twisting itself into knots—everything feels wrong. And maybe Silas is right because with each passing day it gets harder and harder to stay away from him.
When I came back with a bruised face and a headache, Vivienne was furious, and she gave a stern warning. Ever since then, her voice has echoed in my head.
You don’t owe him anything, Eden. He hurt you .
But my resolve is waning with each passing hour. Even with knowing how he hurt me—he’s already asked my parents for my hand. He knows about the ultimatum my parents gave me. He knows everything and he still wants me.
Lucian doesn’t understand.
Vivienne doesn’t understand.
I shouldn’t have allowed myself to get wrapped up in Lucian—even though he’s always been so selfless in the way cared for me. There are expectations of me, expectations that have been ingrained in me from the moment I could speak, expectations they wouldn’t get—and all of it was further reinforced in me when my parents chose to send me here.
Find a proper match.
Make the right choice.
Don’t bring shame to the family.
Get married to keep your inheritance.
And right now, Silas is my only choice. I even spoke to my mother about it—and her response was exactly what I expected. According to her, it’s something I can overlook—for the betterment of my future.
I remember the phone call vividly.
“Yes, my love?” Her voice had been cheerful, and my heart cracked when she called me her love.
I had taken a deep stuttering breath. “What if…the person you’re with hurts you?” I had swallowed thickly, feeling like such a fool—my pulse throbbed in my head, my nose and lips were bruised. “Like, physically hurt you.”
Her voice dropped conspiratorially, and I could hear the bustle of skirts as if she was moving somewhere more private. “In what way, Eden?”
“I have bruises…” My voice trailed off. “He knocked me unconscious, mom. ”
“Silas?”
“Yes.”
Her voice was suddenly sharp, back to the way I remember it. “He’s already asked for your hand. Your wedding is practically planned already,” she hissed. “Sometimes you must suffer in marriage. Silas can be changed. You can’t let something so small get in the way of securing your future.”
Something so small.
Above all else, I must secure my future.
That is my duty as Lady Eden Lockhart.
Eden:
I’ll be there.
There’s a stone in my chest.
So I find Vivienne first.
“Just in case,” I ask. We’re standing close by the chapel. The courtyard is nearby, shrouded in shadows. “I just want you to watch from nearby so if anything happens?—”
“You shouldn’t be going at all.”
Vivienne’s words are flat, but there’s obviously something simmering underneath. I know she must be annoyed with me, maybe even upset.
“I just..I need to see.” I swallow hard, wrapping my arms around myself .
Vivienne exhales, rubbing her temple. “Fine. But if he so much as raises his hand at you, I am going to stab him.”
There’s fire in her eyes.
She isn’t joking.
Vivienne keeps her distance, staying a few paces behind me. I find Silas waiting for me by the benches underneath the huge tree. The same tree that he and his friends hang out at. We’ve never met here before.
The dimly lit courtyard casts wavering shadows on him—but even without the golden light bathing him, he looks different. Softer, almost.
His posture isn’t taut with the usual self-assurance I’m used to. His expression isn’t wild and ferocious like it has been before. Instead, his eyes are brimming with a sentiment I never thought I would ever see on him.
Regret.
“Eden.” His voice is quiet, steady. “Thank you for coming.”
I nod but I don’t speak.
I can’t let him know that I barely have a choice. With my hands folded in front of me, I watch him carefully—knowing Vivienne is waiting in the shadows should something happen. It reassures me.
Silas runs a hand through his hair, letting out a slow breath. “I was wrong,” he says. The words come stiffly, as if he isn’t used to saying them. “I-I lost my temper. And that’s not who I want to be with you.”
My mind goes blank.
He takes a step closer.
Still not close enough for him to touch me. Just enough that I can smell the faint remnants of his cologne—and cigarettes? Come to think of it, the more I look at him, the less composed he seems. Disheveled hair, crushed shirt, shaking hands.
That’s when it dawns on me.
He’s racked by guilt.
“You mean everything to me,” he continues, his voice dropping low. “I don’t want to lose you, Eden.”
He takes another step.
This time he touches me—gently, carefully, his hands sliding over my shoulders, thumbs grazing my collarbone. It feels amazing, but I need more from him than just that crappy apology.
“Silas, you hurt me.” My vision is growing cloudy from the tears. “Look at how bruised my face is. You carved a pentagram into my skin. That’s not just something I can excuse, or forget. You attacked me like an animal.”
He flinches. “I don’t expect you to forgive me.” He’s rubbing soothing circles into my skin. “Give me a chance to regain your trust, please Eden. To prove to you that I’m not that kind of person.” He wears a deep frown. “Let’s just start over. Like none of it ever happened. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, if you’ll let me.”
My throat tightens even as I close my eyes, slowly melting into his touch.
This is the best case scenario.
This is what I wanted.
An apology.
A promise kept.
The assurance that I wasn’t just another possession that he could destroy and piece back together as he pleased—that I mattered. That I could still somehow salvage this, get my inheritance and live some semblance of a life that’s better than what I have to deal with if I go back to my family with no ring on my finger.
The weight of everything—the expectations of my parents, my plans for the future, ensuring that I don’t disgrace my family name—hangs over my head like a guillotine. As I stare into Silas’ blue eyes, I realize that I can’t let the blade drop and sever this.
So I say it.
“Okay. Let’s start over.”
Silas smiles.
And then he pulls me into a kiss. It’s different from all the other times. The ferocity that I’ve come to expect from him is gone. The kiss isn’t demanding or forceful. It’s just soft. His lips move slowly against mine, teasing, testing—giving me space to pull away.
But I don’t.
It feels real—stoking flames deep in my core, my nipples pebbling against my shirt. Is this some sort of trick? Or has something inside of him actually changed? I close my eyes, leaning into the kiss. I allow myself to enjoy it, to picture us happy again. I allow myself to believe it. To believe him.
When we finally break apart, his forehead rests against mine. He threads his fingers gently through the soft hair by my temples. “I’m so sorry for everything, Eden. I made so many mistakes. I hurt you in so many ways. Please let me make it up to you.”
I exhale, closing my eyes.
Maybe I made the right choice coming here.
This time can be different.
It has to be.
Vivienne is seething.
I am literally three steps away from our meeting spot when she storms toward me. Her face is redder than a tomato, her fists clenched by her sides. If we were in a cartoon, I’m sure there would be steam coming out of her ears.
She moves so sharply I flinch.
“You cannot be serious, Eden,” she snaps.
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Vivienne?—”
“How many times do you think we’ll be able to save you from him?” Her voice rises, and for the first time I see beyond the anger coloring her features. I see fear. “You need to stand up for yourself. He tossed you around like a ragdoll, he violated you, he threatened your friends. ”
Tears prick at my eyes.
“I am standing up for myself. I’m choosing to give him a chance to redeem himself. It’s his last chance. The Lord wants us to forgive.”
“No,” she breathes heavily. “You’re folding. You’re choosing the easy way out of this instead of seeing it through.” She grits her teeth. “If he hasn’t fucking changed in the last eighteen years of his life, he’s definitely not going to change for you.”
“It’ll be different this time.”
“And what if it’s not?” she hisses.
I can’t do this, there’s too much going on.
I start running—away from Vivienne, away from everything. I don’t know how I make it back to our dorm. I don’t remember locking the bathroom door behind me. I don’t remember sinking to the floor .
But suddenly, I’m there.
And I can’t breathe.
Everything is too loud. The air, the walls, the weight of my own skin pressing against my bones—it’s all screaming at me, but when I try to hone in on the words, it’s only static.
The air won’t sit right in my lungs.
My heart thrashes against my ribs like it wants to rip out of my chest. With shaking hands, I try to claw at my arms, at my thighs, at anything to anchor myself, but my body doesn’t even feel like mine anymore.
Am I sad?
Am I angry?
Am I breaking?
I can’t tell. All sorts of emotions just keep slamming into me like waves—one after the other—and I’m struggling to even take a breath before another one hits me.
Even my eyes feel like they’re failing me. Everything is either too sharp or too blurry. I feel for my broken cross necklace in my pocket, hoping for something familiar to ground me, but it’s not there. I’ve lost it.
Does this mean that the Lord has forsaken me too?
Panic bubbles in my throat, choking the last bit of air out of me. My pills are on the counter. With shaking hands, I take a few.
I start doing my exercises—five things I can see, four things I can touch, three things I can hear, two things I can smell, and one thing I can taste.
None of it works.
None of it stops the feeling that I’m disappearing inside myself, dissolving into nothing. I’m never going to feel normal again. I want to scream. I want to disappear. I can’t decide if I want Lucian to hold me and ice my bruises and tell me I’m not a monster, or if I’m craving Silas’ touch. But either way—I might shatter into a million pieces and never be whole again.
My thoughts are racing, spiralling, crashing into each other so violently that I can’t hold on to any one of them long enough to make sense of it.
I am nothing.
I am everything.
I am too much.
I am not enough.
Why won’t it just stop?
I’m aware of the tears streaming down my face now.
I’ve been here hundreds of times before, but it never gets any easier.
Please, just stop.
But I don’t know how to quiet it.
So I lay there, curled into a fetal position, my mind splintered into sharp, unbearable edges. I’ve lost track of how much time passes.
Seconds.
Minutes.
Hours.
Everything has melted into one single, everlasting moment.
My existence is crushing me from the inside out.
But then, there’s a vibration.
My phone. I barely even notice it at first.
But something about the sound pulls me back to the realm of the sane, just enough for me to get it out of my pocket. It clatters to the floor before I’m able to hold it. And when I do, it’s with shaking fingers. I blink rapidly, trying to get my eyes to focus through the tears.
Lucian:
Vivienne told me that you two made up. We need to talk, Edie. I don’t care if you bring him along with you. He’s hurt you more times than I can count. You don’t deserve any of it. Silas isn’t the person you think he is.
My breath hitches.
Just from how he’s written this text, I can tell that he’s upset. Vivienne must have told him everything. A fresh wave of emotion threatens to pull me back under—this time shame, embarrassment and guilt—but before it can, I realize that I have another notification.
It’s a text.
But it’s not from anyone I know.
The number is anonymous.
I open it to find no words.
Just a single image attached.
It’s grainy, so I click on it—trying to figure out what the hell it is.
And that’s when everything stops.
The photo is of Marita. And Vivienne.
Together.
In a darkened corner of the cloisters.
Lips pressed together in a passionate, desperate kiss.
Though their faces are half-hidden in the shadows, their bodies are unmistakable.
I hear phones chiming all throughout the dorms, whispers floating underneath the door. Was the message sent to everyone?
The implications hit me all at once .
Someone found out who wasn’t supposed to.
And someone took this picture to hurt them.
To hurt their families.
I grip my phone tightly, a different kind of panic seeping into my bones.
Vivienne’s life is about to turn upside down.
I have to find her.