“Khol,” I croaked. “Khol—I’m ready.” Am I really ready to die though? Could I really do this?
Khol appeared in front of me only a few inches away and pushed me back onto the bed and covered me with his body as he aggressively kissed me. He was obviously ready to get down to business, and maybe it was better that way, so I wouldn’t have a chance to over think things and lose my nerve.
My body immediately responded to his heated kisses, even as my heart felt like a block of ice inside my chest. As he tore at my clothes, I found myself arching up to meet him, wanting, at least physically what he had to offer. Too soon, or not soon enough, we were both naked and Khol was claiming parts of my body with his touch that I swore only Bryn would ever know. I clawed and bit at Khol, wanting to hurt him in some way as he rocked into me, hating and loving what he was doing to me at the same time. Things with him were different than they’d ever been with Bryn. There was no soul deep feeling of connection. There was no feeling of being exactly where I belonged. All I felt was intense physical pleasure, which maybe would have been enough, if I didn’t know what I was missing.
Intense heat seemed to seep out of Khol and wrap itself around me as the back of my neck started to burn. “You’re mine,” Khol growled as he looked down at me capturing my gaze. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”
“Yes,” I said on the tail end of a moan, wishing I could deny the words, but I felt it—I felt his magic branding me.
“And I’m yours. Say it.”
“Yes. You’re mine.” And then I arched up one last time before I blacked out.
I had let Khol claim me, I remembered as I slowly fought my way back to consciousness, and it left me feeling empty—oh, so empty. When I’d been with Bryn, I’d felt so good, so right . . . but being with Khol had been wrong . . . even if he had brought me pleasure. Maybe it wouldn’t be as difficult as I thought it would be to take my own life after letting Khol claim me. Had Bryn felt our connection breaking? Surely he had to of. What must he think of me now, knowing what I’d done to make that happen?
I blinked my eyes open to find that I was alone, no Khol to be found. Well, isn’t that nice, he finally got what he wanted and he didn’t bother to stick around afterwards. I lurched from bed, stumbling toward the bathroom, not caring if I was naked or not, it didn’t matter for what I was about to do. I shut and locked the door, and started the water running for the bath. As the hot water filled the tub, I scanned the bathroom for options. My eyes stopped when they ran over a small hand mirror. I snatched it up and broke it on the counter, picking up the largest shard. I had to do it—I had to do it now before I lost my courage. I stepped into the tub, hardly noticing when the much too hot water practically scalded me, and sank down in the nearly full tub. I set the glass shard on the edge. When the water covered me up past my chest, I turned it off, picked up the shard and leaned back in the tub.
I passed the glass shard back and forth between my hands, watching the lights glint menacingly off its surface. I had to do it—there was no other way. I refused to doom Bryn to a miserable life; my death would bring him happiness. Besides that, the emptiness that I felt knowing that I could never have him again was enough to make me want to end my life all in itself. But I wouldn’t have done it for myself. I’d always thought suicide was the coward’s way out, an easy escape from problems that would only make a person stronger if they stayed to face them. What would have happened if the hero of a story died before they had a chance to become who they were really meant to be? I never thought myself capable of doing such a thing, but then again maybe I wasn’t the hero of this story. I wanted to live—even now as I readied myself for death—I craved life. There was still so much to do, so much to experience, the good and the bad . . . I didn’t want to die now. No—it wasn’t time for selfish thoughts—this is for Bryn. Everything is for Bryn.
I held the glass tightly in my right hand, so tightly that I drew blood, just not from the right place . . . yet. I pressed the glass to my left wrist making sure I cut deep and quickly, barely able to grip it in my left hand to repeat the process on my right wrist. I just had to hope it was enough. Dropping the shard and sinking back into the tub, I closed my eyes and waited for death—my death.
“No!” I heard someone roar with outrage, but it was far away, much too far away to care.
“Peej! How could you do this? How could you let this happen?” Another voice sounded from much too far away. “Save her!”
But I was just sleepy . . . too sleepy to care.
I came to in my bed, the sheets clinging to my sweaty body, and my hair plastered to my face. Why was my mind insistent on showing me things like that? I thought I had memories such as the first time I was with Khol and the night I tried to take my own life suppressed far enough down that I wouldn’t be plagued with such nightmares. What was the point? What was my subconscious trying to tell me this time? It was clear that it had shown me my first times both with Khol and Bryn . . . as what . . . a comparison? Did I want myself to remember how I used to feel about the both of them as opposed to what I felt now? Did I want myself to remember the type of love I felt for Bryn that led to my attempted suicide solely for his happiness. That was before he walked away from you, a not so helpful voice in my mind offered. No. Suddenly it felt like an internal light switch had been flipped on. A feeling of resolution settled over me . . . finally.
Real love, true love . . . the kind of life altering love that Bryn and I share just doesn’t go away that easily. That kind of love takes root in your heart and spreads throughout every fiber of your being. That kind of love makes you feel only half alive whenever the other person isn’t around. That’s what Bryn and I have, and it shouldn’t matter that he walked away from me. It shouldn’t matter that he was acting on some misplaced sense of duty to protect me—because he did those things out of love. He loves me just as much as he always has; he’s just an idiot is all.
I laughed out loud. Of course, that part has always been true as well. It’d be different if he had cheated on me, or abused me, or some other unforgivable offense. I thought Bryn had been the one to break our relationship, but maybe the truth was that we had both done that. But the kind of love that Bryn and I shared could fix anything. Had The Princess Bride taught me nothing? I loved Khol, the man that he’d become for me, but I could never love him the way that I loved Bryn. I was kidding myself to think so. Bryn and I had promised each other always, and I wasn’t going to let my own insecurities stand in the way of that, or his for that matter either. When I saw Khol and Bryn again, I would let them know my decision. I would let them know that it would be Bryn or no one for me . . . always.
14
“I heard you cry out in your sleep again last night,” Nala said conversationally as she stepped into the bathroom. She came to stand behind me as I worked on curling my hair. I was attempting to better blend the hair extensions into my crone style white hair. Attempting being the keyword.
I shrugged without taking my eyes off of my own reflection, and the tedious task at hand. “I had a nightmare.”