Chapter 11 #3
I shook my head, as disbelief crept in. “No, that’s not good enough.
Not when you expect me to love you and believe you.
When you want me to take whatever you say at face value, I need to know that what you’re saying is true.
You need to start talking to me. I need to trust you, and you need to learn how to trust me. ”
His eyes flashed with a spark of darkness, and suddenly, out of nowhere, he spat, “Well, how can I, when you spilled the beans on the one thing I asked you to keep a secret?”
I blinked, taken aback. What?
“Excuse me?” My eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “I’ve never said a word to anyone about anything you told me in confidence.”
James let out a short, bitter laugh. “How quickly you forget. Let me remind you—what was the first thing I ever asked you to keep quiet about? For your own sake, might I add?”
I racked my brain, but nothing came to mind. I’d been trained as a lawyer for years; my memory was sharp, but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what he was referring to.
“You don’t remember?” His words were venomous, biting. “Let me refresh your memory.”
I frowned at him, trying to piece it together.
“I told you that first night,” he continued, deliberate, almost slow, “when I saved you from a few human murder charges, not to tell anyone about your untraceable translation.”
I nodded slowly, unsure of where he was headed with this. “Yes, you did. Aside from yourself and the Council.”
“And you promised me you wouldn’t speak a word of it to anyone,” he pressed, his whole posture burning with accusation.
“And I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did.”
“What? When?”
“You told Enya,” James accused, tension rippling through his posture.
My jaw dropped in shock. “No, I didn’t! I told her about my struggles with translation—about how I couldn’t project unless my life was in danger. But I never said a word about my untraceable energy.”
“Emma, don’t you fucking lie to me,” he spat. “She knew about it! She told me herself the night you went out clubbing in the Human World.”
“James, I don’t know what Enya told you, but I promise you, I never told her anything.” Then it clicked in my mind, and I stared at him, incredulous. “Is that what this is all about? You think I betrayed you by telling the one friend I ever had in here about myself? Are you serious right now?”
James raised a brow, but didn’t back down. “The one friend? And here I was thinking you and Sean were looking pretty friendly while you were breaking and entering into my fucking home.”
“Glad you’ve noticed Sean and I are as thick as thieves. And yes, pun intended. At least that’s something you’ve noticed about me these last few months.”
His mouth opened then closed as my words started to register. “The fuck does that mean?”
I shook my head. “Nothing. Great work on the deflection, though. Making it all about Sean. Especially when he’s not here to defend himself.”
“Sean’s gone,” James said flatly.
I blinked, caught off guard. “He’s what?”
He shrugged, as if it meant nothing. “The European Collectives are in a state of frenzy. Crown’s been tasked to find the Amplifier. Caden called him back home, and he left.”
Without saying goodbye? A sharp pang hit my heart. Sean had left, and hit me a lot harder than I expected.
The anger that had been fueling me moments ago deflated, leaving me standing there, hollow. The ache in my chest was unexpected, but real. Sean had left, without a word, without even a goodbye. Just like Enya.
Was I even capable of making actual friends?
James watched me, his shoulders still tense, but the fury that had clouded his features had begun to ease. I swallowed hard, my thoughts swirling, and before I knew it, the words I’d been holding back for so long began to spill out.
“I’ve been really lonely, James,” I said softly, almost to myself.
His expression softened immediately, a flicker of perplexity crossing his face. “Lonely? Since when?”
“Since we got together,” I admitted, and I hated I couldn’t keep my hands from trembling.
“You’re always so busy, and I get it. I do.
You have so much on your shoulders, and I would never blame you for that.
But it doesn’t change the fact that I’ve felt forgotten.
Like I’m not your priority. Like I’m not anyone’s.
And again, I get it, there’s a war going on, and you have a very important role in that, and I don’t, but I have no one else. ”
His face fell, the sting of my words clearly hitting him hard. “Emma. I never meant for you to become isolated.”
I nodded, blinking back the sting threatening to spill over. “I know. And I understand. But understanding doesn’t make the loneliness go away. It doesn’t change the fact I haven’t been entirely happy.”
James froze for a moment, his eyes wide with hurt. “You haven’t been happy?”
Pressure bloomed beneath my ribs at the sight of him, broken by something I hadn’t even realized I’d been carrying inside me for so long. “No, not really,” I whispered. “I love you, James. I do. But I need more than this. I need to feel like I’m important, like you’re not taking me for granted.”
He took a step toward me, pain etched into every line of his face. “I’m so sorry, Emma. I thought you knew how much you mean to me.”
I let out a shaky breath, and flexed my hands, trying to steady them.
“I know you care. But actions speak louder than words. You’ve kept so many things from me and shut me out when I needed you.
I don’t see how we can move forward if you prefer holding on to secrets to building a solid foundation for us. ”
James went still, his features clouded with guilt, and I could see the battle raging behind his eyes, the flicker of indecision, remorse, and sadness even.
After what seemed like an eternity, he finally spoke.
“You’re right.” The words came out low and rough, like they had been dragged from the depths of his soul. “I haven’t been fair to you.” He paused, his throat working as he swallowed hard. “And I need to be.”
His admission hit me like a tidal wave, a mix of relief and heartache surging through me.
I wanted to believe him, to hold on to those words, but they felt like glass—delicate, fragile, and too easy to break.
I opened my mouth, then closed it again, unable to rely on my voice.
Instead, I met his gaze, hoping he could see the whirlwind of emotions tearing through me.
“I’m sorry,” he added, softer this time. “I should’ve told you everything sooner.”
He took a step closer, but then stopped, as if unsure of how to bridge the distance between us.
The pressure was unbearable, the kind that pulled at every fiber of my being.
My heart ached, but still, I said nothing.
His promises were so tenuous, so easily undone.
I couldn’t bear to hold them too tightly, not when I feared they would crumble in my hands.
He hesitated, then searched my face for something I wasn’t sure I could give him—reassurance, maybe, or forgiveness.
Finally, he straightened his spine, determination replacing the uncertainty that had clouded his features.
“I want that foundation for us. I want this to work. And I know what I have to do,” he said, his voice steadier now, though it carried a hint of desperation.
“But before I can, I need to talk to someone first.”
I frowned, confusion mingling with a familiar hollow inside me. “Who?” I whispered, slightly fearful of what would happen next.
His lips pressed into a thin line, as if he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—give me an answer. “Please,” he said, his tone almost pleading. “Wait for me. I’ll be back.”
The finality in his words sent a chill through me.
Before I could ask him what he meant, he turned away.
A shimmering portal began to form in the space beside him, the air crackling with energy as it took shape.
The green light from it bathed his face, casting his expression into one filled with hope.
He glanced back at me one last time, his gaze lingering, burning this moment into memory. Words hovered on the edge of his lips, unspoken, unformed. But I sensed them all the same.
A breath. A heartbeat.
Then he moved.
Two strides. That was all it took to close the space between us before his hands were on me—one curling around the back of my neck, the other fisting the fabric of my shirt as if letting go wasn’t an option.
His lips crashed against mine, desperate, consuming, a kiss that tasted like goodbye before either of us could say the word.
Heat flooded through me, warring with the ice curling in my chest. I kissed him back as fiercely, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, trying to steal whatever I could before it was too late.
His breath was ragged, his body pressed flush against mine, like he was carving this moment into both of us.
And then—too soon, too suddenly—it was over.
He pulled back, his forehead brushing mine for the briefest second, a silent promise, or maybe an apology. Then he turned without another word, stepping through the portal.
The energy rippled in his wake, the space where he’d stood collapsing in on itself, and just like that—he was gone.
The room felt emptier, as if he’d taken a piece of it with him. A piece of me with him. I stared at the space he’d filled a moment ago, my mind racing with the things I didn’t say, the questions I didn’t ask.
A slow ache settled behind my sternum, and for the first time, I wondered if waiting for him again would break me completely.