NEVERMORE : A twist to the tale

There wasn’t just one table covered with a white tablecloth and silver cutlery under the veranda where we dined but several. One for the family. One for the doctors and surgeons. And another for their wives. It was bigoted. Ajax and Archi had to offend their father for me to be accepted at the family table, and here I was now, at the very end, left with a small angle to eat despite the vastness of the space. But no doubt, if it was up to Léon, I would have ended up in the kitchen with the staff. Not that I would mind—they were my people.

“I would like to raise a glass to my son, Archibald, the only heir of Clemonte. I’m proud of you for continuing the family legacy,” Léon raised a glass, standing up from his chair. “No doubt you’ll have a flourishing career, following in my footsteps. I always had faith in you. You’re my biggest accomplishment. May you be an example to your older brother.”

Both brothers had their jaws clenched and an impenetrable mask plastered on their faces. It was the guests’ turn to applaud, and Léon sat back in his chair like a king celebrating with his crowd. On the spur of the moment, I seized Ajax’s hand under the table, which made him tense even more.

“I don’t suppose you want to say anything to your brother, Ajax,” Léon attacked, serving himself some lobster and vegetables.

Ajax raised his glass, his icy gaze locking on his brother. “To Archi, may you not follow this path just for Léon’s approval.”

“Archibald told me you’re making a good living. How does managing a failing gallery allow you to acquire such money?”

“Honey,” his mom tried to interfere, not touching any of the food on her plate. “I’m tired, please.”

I tensed my hold on the silver fork. He didn’t know who his son was. He hadn’t seen him in years, and this was the only topic at the table: money.

“Why? You want me to lend you some?” Ajax bit on the broccoli, squashing it.

“You’re doing nothing meaningful in your life apart from flirting with whom I supposed is your intern.” He glared at me as if I was a meaningless toy that he wished to make disappear into smoke right away.

I let my fork slap down on my plate. “I’m no intern. First, because I couldn’t handle working for him—it’d be a mess and—” Not the point, Aurore. “And because I feel like you’re trying to insult me with a job position that is honorable. It doesn’t define my value. And Ajax is doing something meaningful. You’re wrong about your son.”

“You shouldn’t be here at this table. You weren’t invited,” Léon said with lethal calm.

“Don’t talk to her that way.” Ajax tensed.

“Father. I invited them.” Archibald tried to defend me.

I swallowed my whole glass of water, wishing I could become a phantom. Léon was giving me a full, pristine, white-toothed smile, and this meant he was about to annihilate me. I drifted my eyes away from him, but it was too late.

“Aurore. It seems I judged you too soon.” He was terrifying with confidence like none other. “What are you doing in life? You’re working in an Ever After parade, perhaps?”

It usually would have flattered me, but coming from him, it meant I was coming from a distant galaxy he had no pleasure in discovering.

“Like the aurora borealis. It’s such a pretty name,” Hélène commented, putting her hand on top of her husband’s.

“Thank you, Hélène.” I smiled, thankful I had her by my side. “I’m an author.”

“Of philosophy? Theses? Have I ever read your work?”

“No, I’ve been traditionally published once, but it didn’t work out. I work for an online company in a way.” I paused awkwardly. I had no choice but to be honest. “So I doubt it. I write about romance and women’s pleasure. Steamy scenes, you know. I either make people dream or very—” horny. “But you weren’t wrong about the Ever After parade. I do work there, too, because I have a thing for fairy tales. I mean, I grew up in a barn, so I was connected with animals and all that.” I stole Ajax’s drink in a panic and finished it in one go, feeling awkward. “I’m planning on writing a novel very soon, thanks to your son’s help.”

Everyone stared at me as if I was crazy, except for Hélène, who displayed a huge beaming smile. She made me believe I was her new favorite person.

Léon swallowed. “Lovely.”

And that’s how I made a promise to myself to not say another single word until the end of the dinner.

“So this is how you spend your time, Ajax,” his father continued. “Do you know why I called him Ajax? It’s after the Greek warrior. A tyrannical hero. He was a leader. Now, all I ever see in him is weakness. I wonder what I did wrong raising you.”

Ajax sat straight up in his seat. “You’re afraid I’ve become better than you, Father.”

“My head hurts,” Hélène whispered.

“Father, please,” Archi took another stab at rescuing the conversation.

“What? He’s sitting here like he’s a part of our family with some girl he found at a circus show, and I should stay quiet? He’s the one who left and shamed our family name.”

Ajax’s fist clenched. “This is the last time you insult Aurore, or I promise you, Léon, I will make sure all of your colleagues here know your true colors.”

I mumbled an “it’s okay” that no one heard.

“I was a great father to you.” He raised his voice, a vein popping up on his forehead. “You’ve always been my biggest disappointment. I taught you how not to be weak, and yet here you are, quitting everything you ever started. I spent countless amounts of money on shrinks trying to cure you. I bet she doesn’t know?”

Léon fired his stare at me, but I did not hold his gaze. What did he mean by she doesn’t know? Ajax’s fist tightened even more, to the point that his veins stood out, his whole body tensing.

“My head hurts,” Hélène mumbled to herself.

“You didn’t change a bit.” Léon’s lips turned into an expression of disgust. “I don’t even know why you came back here. You’re parading like a peacock, but I’m ashamed of you. You’re no man. You’re pitiful.”

Ajax had a deadly smile on, and it was enough for me to break my vows, blood thrashing against my cells.

I hate bullies.

“How could you say that to your own son? You know nothing about him because you don’t pay attention to anything,” I unleashed like the evil fairy godmother spreading misfortune.

“Aurore, you don’t have to do this,” Ajax tried to reason with me.

“No! I’m sorry, but your home is full of paintings and sculptures, and you dare say you didn’t want that kind of future for your son? On top of being a selfish man, you’re a fucking hypocrite, Mr. Clemonte.”

“Hypocrite?” he articulated, letting out a dark chuckle.

“Damn yes, you are.” I leaned forward, my chin and mouth quivering. “You’re frustrated with your life, so you’re blaming others for your misery. Your son is nothing like you, and thank god, he’s actually passionate, caring, and he has a will like no one else. I’ve never seen someone as meticulous, organized, and ambitious as him. Hell, he ran away from you!” I slapped my hands on the table, and it was my turn to laugh. “He gave everything up so he could be someone. He did it on his own, with no help. You must be proud of him, and if you loved him, you’d open your fucking eyes and know what your son is capable of and who he is.”

My breath caught in my throat, and I breathed like an animal hunting prey, my hair raised on my neck like spikes. My aura must have been dark purple. The crowd had fallen silent, and remorse started to cloud my features if it weren’t for Ajax’s scowl on his lips. He wasn’t mad at me?

Léon’s face tightened, and he chewed on his lower lip. I remembered what Ajax told me: it was defeat. I had beaten him. I did it. I won. I made him KO.

“You should leave, Ajax. You’re dead to me.”

“Léon, stop this,” his mom cut in.

Ajax rose from his chair, straight and regal. “I’m dead to you, but I’m haunting you every day.”

“You can leave now. It’s not like your mother will remember you were ever here in the first place.”

“Father!” Archi roared.

Ajax towered over his father, his dark eyes gunning at him. “Don’t you dare hurt her feelings. Memories last forever—don’t forget what she used to say. Mom is here, she’s not dead, so treat her with the respect she deserves and not like a fucking patient of yours. She’s your wife.”

Ajax stormed away, and I followed right after him, exchanging an apologetic smile with his mother. “It was great to meet you. I’m sorry for everything, Hélène, and I—”

I ran after Ajax, who was walking away from the garden with heavy stomps. He stopped by the entrance of the house, the cicadas singing their evening song.

“Ajax!” I screamed, catching up with his pace.

He turned around to face me, anger clouding his features. “I’m sorry I brought you into this mess. I thought he’d changed, but I was wrong. You didn’t deserve this.”

“It’s okay. I understand what it is to have family issues. I get it.”

He observed me for a moment and shifted abruptly in another direction. “Come.”

I didn’t ask questions, and we went a few meters further, heading toward a rowboat anchored beside the river. He removed the knots that tied it to the ground and pushed the boat onto the water. He stretched out his hand to me, one foot on it to hold it in place. “Let’s take a ride.”

A puzzled look spread across my features. “We’re about to be surrounded by water again. You know it’s risky territory.”

“I’m ready to take the risk. You coming?”

I accepted his hand and sat down at the end of the boat, trying to fit all of my puffy dress inside. Ajax sat down across from me and took off his suit jacket to roll up his sleeves. With the paddle, he made us drift on the calm lake, surrounded by a horde of old trees on each side—weeping willows, their long branches falling into the river, the birds taking shelter to make their nests. They were my favorite trees because despite their macabre look, they harbored life.

Ajax stopped rowing. “Do you really believe everything you said about me?”

“Of course, but I thought I’d save your flaws for another time.” I smiled, the boat turning in the middle of the lake slowly as if in a magic moment. “I know how it feels to be rejected and have the world against you. If I didn’t have my sister, I’d have given up on my dreams a long time ago. Did you have someone?”

“Isaac believed in me; he had what I didn’t. He was sympathetic, and he knew how to attract a crowd and be the center of attention, obviously.”

“I regret we—” My phone vibrated. Once. Twice. Then, the ringing stopped, and a couple of messages from daddykink offering me a new ghostwriter job for a novelist popped up. I was on the verge of throwing my phone into the lake. “You know what? I think I’m done.”

“Done?”

I chuckled. “Yeah, done. I’m done ghostwriting for daddykink, and I’ll focus on my dreams. I’ll get selected by Ever After. Why shouldn’t it be me, you know?”

“You’re entirely right,” Ajax said, taking the control back of the boat. “Your story deserves to be told.”

“How do you know? You’ve never read anything I’ve written.” I snorted. “Perhaps I’m terrible.”

“I actually did. It was… adorable.”

“Adorable?” My eyebrows rose. Adorable wasn’t good. Adorable meant cheesy, predictable, and—

“I read your first published book. It wasn’t you. It was nice and sweet, but it’s not—” He paused, searching through his words. “You didn’t use your emotions; you did what is expected. And I believe if your writing is a part of you, it can therefore never be boring or terrible. You’re anything but that, as long as you don’t try to imitate what is expected from you. Your writing didn’t look like you.”

“I wrote something that would sell because Ever After never wanted my stories. On top of that, all the big publishing houses rejected everything I wrote after that book, and I lost the desire to tell stories.” I curled my knees on my chest, the water leaping on the bark. “I’m not even sure the story I’m writing now will be any different.”

“What’s a great story without some deceptions, rejections, and failures?”

The wind blew, and I caught in my hand one of the leaves that had landed inside the boat. “At the charity gala, I met with Bernard. He spoke to me, and he said he thought of you as a failure. What’s your story, Ajax?”

“Bernard always said my art couldn’t convey a strong message. I was an artist with no soul. He always used to mark the center of my artwork with a thick red cadmium brushstroke, and he said that the stroke would haunt me all my life as a symbol of my incompetence, so I guess I wasn’t his favorite student.”

“That’s abusive if you ask me.” I squinted my eyes. “It was bullying. He had no right.”

“I—” He cleared his throat. “I shouldn’t have brought this up after what happened to your sister.”

“No, on the contrary.” I found myself smiling for some reason. “It’s like I misjudged you all along.”

“The reason you were crying on the bridge all those years ago, it’s the day you learned she…” He didn’t say the rest as we passed under the branches of the weeping willow, which caressed my skin in a gentle touch. We were safe, in a place where we could confess our remorse and failures.

“She almost died, yes.” I swallowed. “It wasn’t the first time. The first time, it was all my fault.”

“Your fault?”

I crumpled my dress, tightening my hold on my knees. “When I was a teenager, my mom told me to watch over my sister at the pool. She didn’t know how to swim well, but I wanted to hang out with the other girls. I was tired of constantly taking care of her. So I gave my sister some inflatable things, and I left her alone, even though she begged me not to. I called her a stupid drag. Some minutes later, I heard my mother screaming. Luna had almost drowned, and it was because of me.”

“It wasn’t your role to be a mother to her,” Ajax added. “I don’t think less of you, Aurore.”

“Perhaps because we’ve both made mistakes.” I gave him a shy smile.

“I’m not the right person if you seek pity or heavy emotional support.” He darted his tongue and wet his lips. “But I can listen to you without judgment.”

“You want to be my therapist?”

His eyes didn’t budge from mine. “I want to know what and how you feel.”

My fingers intertwined together. It was just us at this moment. I could confide in him because he was as flawed and imperfect as me—and yet, for me, he was approaching a dangerous kind of perfection.

“I grew up with the perfect happy family, but it was all a lie. I thought my father was the Prince Charming, and I was much too similar to the annoying main character who got everything she wanted like a little princess. I lied to myself so I wouldn’t see the ugly truth. The day my mother became pregnant with my sister, my father left for three months without any signs of life. I prayed for him to come back, and he eventually did, but during that time, he had already given up on us. I pretended we were reunited for the happy ending. My mom changed over the years, since he had been cheating on her all along, and she knew it. She stayed with him because of us.”

I took a deep breath, caressing the leaves of the weeping willow. “I left my hometown to follow my dream——the one to win the Ever After publishing contest and become an author—but I didn’t even make the first cut. That didn’t stop me—I kept striving for what I wanted, even at the price of not picking up my sister’s calls because I was too ashamed to tell her the truth. The birth of The Sad Girl began the moment my mother called me in the middle of a Les Beaux Arts class. My sister had come back from school earlier than planned, before her lunch break, and had caught the violent fight between my mom and my dad. Her world had collapsed at her feet. She texted me, but I didn’t see her texts. She went back to school in the afternoon, and for the first time, she stood up against her bullies, tired of everything.”

I curled my fingers, drifting my eyes away from Ajax. The wind blew again, and I closed them for a moment, feeling like a knife was cutting my already bleeding heart. “She lost the fight, and so she locked herself in the school bathroom, and she tried to…” My voice quivered. “Luckily, the principal found her, and she was brought quickly to the emergency room. That day destroyed my sister and me.”

I let out a shaky exhale, Ajax watching me without an ounce of emotion. I continued, too late to back away. Tears wanted to form, but I didn’t allow them to overpower me. “After the phone call, I was done with believing. My entire life was a lie, and real life was shit. I couldn’t even go back home to be there for her because I had to stay here and earn enough money to support my family. I think they did not realize the sacrifice I had made. To them, I was only being selfish. I didn’t tell them about how lonely and hurt I was, nor about my failures and fears, because it meant admitting that life was hopeless.”

Ajax knitted his brows. The memory was so vivid. I snapped my fists on my legs. “A few days later, I went to see Bernard to excuse myself, but he told me I was fired for a new model. Apparently, some students got into a fight because of me. I called my father, who never went to see my sister at the hospital. He didn’t care, yet a year later, he came back, asking me for a ticket reduction at Ever After, after seeing one of my posts on social media. And on top of that, Augustus, my first love, broke up with me the day of the call because he fell in love with that perfect girl. So, that’s my story and why I used to stand away from the fairy tale, trying to strengthen my heart with ironclad lead armor.”

I was brought back to reality by the sounds of laughter echoing from the other side of the river, where small lanterns lit up a sort of gazebo covered in ivy.

“You can take more than you think, Aurore. You have talent in you. You can’t let them win.” Ajax parked the boat near the roots of a tree. “As for your father and your ex, they were assholes who are not worthy of being part of your life. Promise me you’ll write that novel. Not for your sister but for you. You’re perhaps not the same person you were seven years ago or the perfect character you wanted to be, but you’re still you. You’re…” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “You’re perfect to me.”

“Ajax,” I breathed.

“Your story is not over. Look at the emotions you stirred in my father tonight—you won. Look what you did with me and for the kids at the foundation. You deserve to tell your story because no one else can do it for you. You know about fairy tales—surely you know what happens after you beat the dragon.” He got out of the boat and held out his hand to me.

I seized it for the second time and stepped over the water onto dry land. “Look at you, not cynical but optimistic.”

“And you’re a dreamer. Perhaps you’re too inspired while I’m not enough.”

“You’re a world-renowned artist,” I chuckled. “Surely you’re inspired.”

We headed in the direction of the gazebo with the lanterns hung around it. The crowd had left, so it was ours, and my novelist heart warmed up at the idea.

“I’m not. I stole emotions from people, just like I did with yours. I’m an impostor in a way.”

“You’re a storyteller,” I changed his words. “But you see the world as if you’re not worthy to be in it. You put this barrier between you and the real world. You don’t allow yourself to feel.”

Ajax’s eyes landed on mine. “Perhaps I just don’t. Perhaps I’m unable to.”

“Oh, I don’t believe that.” I smiled. “But if you want, I can feel enough for the both of us combined.”

“You’re a fairy in humans’ land, Aurore. You’re the main character for me.”

The sky rumbled as my hand landed on the white wood of the gazebo. “What do you see in me, Ajax?”

“I see life, Aurore.” The sky roared again, stormy gray clouds approaching. “It’d take me an eternity to paint every facet of you.”

I pulled away from him and started circling around the gazebo. In the absence of my notebook, I wrote a note on my phone to fill in the fearless and violent beating of my heart. It seemed to be stitching itself together every minute I spent with Ajax. And now, I’d write the line my evil queen would say to her magician in my novel.

I’ll feel for you, but would you dream for the both of us? You resurrected my magic, but would I have enough fairy dust to protect my heart from you? I’m afraid of what you stir up in me.

I passed my head between the bars of the gazebo, my hands above them, to find myself face-to-face with Ajax, who was on the other side.

“Spectre.”

He put his hands on top of mine.

The sky rumbled once more.

“My fairy.”

I knew I had to ask the question. The one that’d been haunting me now. I needed to know if he was the boy from the storage room. “Were you the—”

A heavy downpour fell on us.

In a split second, we were soaked. I glanced heavenward at the sky. A black cloud was above us.

“Are you kidding me?” I laughed, pulling my hair back.

He grabbed me by my waist and led me inside the gazebo, locking our bodies amid my chuckling. We took shelter under the small space, the rain beating harder and the smell of wet grass wafting up through the air. An invisible pull was attracting me to him, and against all odds, the storm had struck us together, sealing our fate like an electrical shock that couldn’t be pulled away. Our eyes plunged into one another, reading our souls in the midst of something so devastating that felt so peaceful.

I was the one to inch closer this time. I laid my hand on his chest, and I heard the pounding of his heartbeats slamming at full speed. It surprised me. His face was aloof, but his heart was about to combust. “Your heart, it’s beating so fast.”

I wet my already wet lips, and Ajax’s hand traveled the length of my waist, his scent invading my nose in a need for lust.

“What do you feel now?” he asked.

“I have tingling all over my body, and I feel like my heart wants to plummet away from my chest, like I want to flee.” My lips parted slightly. “I’m terrified.”

“Terrified?”

“To kiss you again.” Of what it could mean.

“Do you want to?”

His lips grazed mine in the slightest of touches.

“I shouldn’t.”

Heartbreak, my heart warned.

Sadness, my mind warned.

Need, my soul spoke.

“I’m desperate, wanting you obsessively.” His words echoed within me, and I made the choice to listen to only one part of me.

My soul.

On my tiptoes, I crushed my lips on his.

He held me close against him, his tongue dancing with mine in an inferno of emotions. He pinned me against the gazebo, and we kissed each other under the melody of the rain. The devastating weather was nothing against the flick of our tongues and the contact of our skin. It was nothing compared to the way his fingers explored my legs wrapped around his torso and the way I was grinding my hips against him like an animal. No, it was nothing compared to the way he cupped my jaw, possessively and needily, as his other hand descended to grasp my butt cheek with no shame. The way I felt his hardness brushing against me and, in response, the way I bit and sucked his lip. This was destructive with an uncertain outcome. It was forbidden.

“You know what this means.” He brushed over my nape. “There is no coming back from this.”

“You know how the story ends for people like us,” I whispered, craning my head backward.

“Terribly.” He sealed this accord, kissing me again like he didn’t care about the consequences.

Ajax

“I’ll race you.” Aurore pulled off her heels, her eyes sparking up.

She was hurrying back to my parents’ house to get the hell out of there as fast as possible, and I was following behind her, walking casually despite the fact we were both soaked. By now, I was used to being in odd situations with her. She jumped backward with a smile on her face, and mascara dripping down her cheeks, not that she seemed to care. She was a mixture of tragic and beautiful, and if my canvases were waterproof, I would have immortalized her as I saw her—trying to ignore my pulsing hard-on.

“There is no way you’ll make me chase after you like some—”

“Last one is a loser! Go!” she screamed and raced to the house, not caring that her bare feet landed on the dirty wet ground.

I finally did run after her on impulse—maybe it’d dry my soaked clothes since the rain had stopped pouring a couple of minutes ago—but there was someone in front of my parents’ house. My mother. She was standing in the middle of the gardens wearing her ghostly nightgown, scrubbing her fingers together. She was searching all around her. She was lost.

I passed in front of Aurore and ran toward her, my vitals feeling heavy for some reason. “Mom, what are you doing here?”

Taken by surprise, she laid a hand on her chest and approached me with trembling fingers. “I was looking to feed the kittens some milk, but I couldn’t find Mom. What are you doing here, Léon?”

“I’m Ajax.” A muscle in my jaw clenched. “Grandma died years ago. You’re at your house, and it’s the middle of the night.”

I didn’t like the look in her eyes, the way her pupils twitched, trying to solve the maze of memories inside her brain. “Ajax, you’re here. We have to tell Léon. We have to—”

“Mom.” My jaw clenched again. “You need to go back inside, or you’re gonna catch a cold.”

“No, the kittens! I can’t.” She pulled herself away from me, retracting her arms warily against her body. “I won’t go back inside. Don’t force me.”

“Mom, you need to—”

“Ajax!” Léon came through the door, rushing like a madman toward his wife in his pretentious silk pajamas. “Hélène, are you okay? Go back to our bedroom. I’ll be right there, okay?”

“How can you let her go alone at night?” I roared. “She could drown herself in the lake or get lost in the woods.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” my father screamed. “You’re gone from our lives. Don’t pretend to care—you can’t care about anyone but yourself.”

“And who taught me that,” I deadpanned, striking my eyes to him. “You’re too proud to admit that Mom is sick in front of your colleagues, pretending to have the perfect family, but you’re the one who broke us down.”

“Hélène, would you like to go inside to search for the milk with me?” Aurore kindly asked, probably trying to spare my mother the scene.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Aurore. I’m here with your son.”

I enjoyed the sound of that. More than I should have.

“Like the aurora borealis. How beautiful.” And here she was, seducing my mother over again with ease.

“Don’t talk to me like that,” my father spat his venom once my mother was out of reach. “I’m doing everything I can. Now, I don’t ever want to see you again. Get out of my house. She’s sick because you left.”

I felt a nerve spiking in my chest. It hurt. “She was already miserable. You saw your own sons as a personal project, and you didn’t care for her, only about your career. These may be your last moments with her, and yet you still don’t realize you’ve lost a son, and now you’re about to lose your wife.”

“My wife is already dead.” My father showed his true colors. “She doesn’t remember. She’s not Hélène anymore.”

I sensed Aurore glancing at me from inside the house, and for a moment, it destabilized me. “To me, she looks exactly the same, and it’s better she doesn’t remember you so she won’t notice the pitiful man you’ve become. She’d be ashamed. Everything you’re feeling inside will never go away. You’re the one who killed her from your heart, just like you did with your children.”

My father’s frown deepened. “You don’t know what it is to feel. You know what pain is, Ajax?”

Pain is tears. No, that’s sadness.

Pain. I focused on the definition of the word. Pain is unpleasant.

My nostrils flared. Only someone without feelings wouldn’t know what pain feels like. Pain is—My jaw clenched. Pain. Pain. Pain.

“It’s what I thought,” my father snorted. “Get the hell out of here. I don’t want to see you ever again.”

“Gladly.”

With heavy clomps, I headed in the direction of my car under the weight of my father’s stare. Aurore came rushing after me and had the strange politeness to wave goodbye at my father and, worse, to address him with some words.

“I think you’re a good man and that deep, deep down, you love your son and your wife. I’m sorry this happened to you.” What the heck was she doing? “You can’t do everything alone. Don’t be afraid to ask for some help, or else you’ll have regrets. Goodbye, sir.”

“Wait—” my father spoke to Aurore. “You deserve better than my son.”

“And he deserved a better father, but it’s not too late.”

She stepped into the car, which made my father’s frown deepen even more. He had just met my Aurore. I sped the car away, and through the rearview mirror, I glanced one last time at my father in front of his beloved house. I slammed the mirror and tightened my grip on the steering wheel.

A new wave of acid was trying to annihilate all of my cells, leaving me with a never-ending flame inside my core. I wanted to smash something.

And in the midst of my apocalyptic torment, Aurore did the unexpected.

She put her hand on my leg, and something warm appeared in my chest. It was different from the warmth of before—this felt like the first ray of morning sun. Nice and calming. The shard in my guts felt less painful.

“I have a question,” she said, hesitant. “Why, Spectre? Why act like you’re a phantom while you sacrificed everything to become who you are right now. You’re acting as if you’re…”

Dead. She was about to say dead.

She cleared her throat, her doe eyes meeting mine. “If I were you, I’d scream to the world that I am, you know… I’d terrorize the world with my accomplishment. Look at your father—you let him speak to you like that. Why do you hide your identity that much?”

“I do not hide,” I deadpanned, tightening my grip on the wheel as I focused on the road, wanting to gain speed and lose myself in it. “I reinvented myself to be who I wanted to be. If I were to be Ajax and Spectre, everyone would look at me differently. They’d think I became successful because I was a Clemonte, and for the others, I’d attract people interested in my money or fame. I want my freedom and to be able to trust people.”

“I call bullshit.”

I aimed my eyes at her.

“Maybe that’s true,” she added. “But it’s like you stopped existing. You have literally everything, and you call yourself Spectre, like you’re some ghost, a memory of yourself. Why?”

Aurore was as smart as she was feral, and she was reading me better than I’d ever read anyone. “That’s a discussion for later, my fairy.”

“You have to give yourself space to exist. During the days we have left together, I’m ready to open my heart wide enough to let you see what you’re losing.”

“So you’ll give your heart to me?” I frowned. “Beware, I’ll be eager to take everything.”

“For now,” she countered. “I don’t want you to flee away from happiness.”

So this was how it felt to be happy?

When the constant void became warm, and if time would stop eternally, I wouldn’t mind.