With a deep sigh, I start hobbling.
I’m almostto my suite when my legs finally give out beneath me. Cursing colorfully, Carter manages to catch me before I hit the stone floor. He sweeps me up into his arms, cradles me against his chest like a child, and starts striding down the hallway. If I had any remaining energy whatsoever, I’d be utterly embarrassed for causing such a scene in front of the entire household. I’d also probably wonder what conclusions the staff would jump to, seeing me in my stepbrother’s arms. But in this moment, all I feel is exhaustion as he wrestles open my door one-handed and carries me over the threshold.
The room is dark and oh so quiet. The only light trickles through the glass terrace doors. It’s begun to snow outside, the falling flakes muffling the whole world. I watch them drift as Carter sets me down on the bed, cradling my head gently until it hits the pillow.
I stare up at him, lost for words. It’s been the worst day of my life — full of unimaginable sorrow, unspeakable pain. And yet, there’s a part of me that is comforted by his touch, soothed by the feeling of his hands on my skin. He is a salve to the jagged wound inside me. One I’m not sure will ever heal.
“I’ll let you rest,” Carter says lowly, eyes full of sharp-edged thoughts I can’t decipher. “You’re exhausted.”
He starts to stand, but I reach out and grab his arm. There’s an urgency in my grip. A sort of desperate fear at the sudden thought of him walking out that door, leaving me alone in the dark with a mind full of memories I can’t hold at bay for much longer.
“Please…stay.”
A jolt moves through his body, like I’ve electrocuted him. “I don’t think that’s the smartest idea, Emilia.”
“Please, Carter.” My voice drops to a whisper, barely audible. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”
His jaw tightens and I know he’s deliberating. I see the conflict warring in his eyes. He doesn’t want to leave me, but he knows it’s probably wrong to stay.
Wrong for me.
For him.
For both of us.
Whatever look he sees on my face is enough to sway him. Moving cautiously, as though navigating a minefield, he stretches out beside me on the bed. For a long time, we just lay there looking at each other.
Not touching, not talking.
He stares into my eyes, into my soul, and I know he’s reading all the darkness inside me, swirling around like poison with no outlet.
I make a sound — half sob, half sigh — and his careful composure falls to pieces. Without a word, he reaches out and pulls me close, until we’re plastered so tight together I can’t tell where I end and he begins. His strong arms envelop me, warm and safe. His legs tangle with mine, careful not to put any weight on my bruises.
When he embraces me, something shatters deep within my soul. I thought my heart was too numbed with ice to grieve any more, but I was wrong. I thought I’d done all my crying earlier, but I find there is still more to come. My limbs shudder violently as tears trickle out into the crook of Carter’s neck. I am physically incapable of coping with the enormity of this pain. This loss is too great to unpack all at once. Too mammoth to fathom its full scope without time and distance.
After a while, I feel the telltale moisture of tears against the crown of my head, and know I am not the only one in this bed being ravaged by the utter grief of this day.
Together, we weep.
We mourn.
When our sobs finally taper off, I lay my head on Carter’s chest and curl my body around his warmth. And there, as I listen to the steadythump-thump-thumpof his heartbeat, I allow my tired eyes to drift closed, safe in the knowledge that he’ll be here with me, when the nightmares come.