The day Lukas Fuller met Emma Whelan, his bond invitation to Olivia Byrne had broken a week ago. Hauled up in a pub, drinking beer after beer, he tries to forget his past lover while sharing small talk with the equally mopey Emma.
Though many drinks...
I went quiet as the final words left my mouth, my whole body going numb as Ollie's cries I will never shake returned to my mind. Even this far on, I will never forget how it felt to hold her close to me, to stroke her hair in the futile hopes to soothe her, and to feel the warmth and wetness as she wailed her pain into me, all the while I glanced over her shoulder at his still body, quickly decaying before my eyes as years of prolonged life finally caught up with his human corpse.
"That's not the end of the story," Emma weakly said, unable to even face me as she whispered into the empty room.
I shrugged, looking at my hands as they were the most interesting thing ever. "What else is there to say?"
This time, her head turned. "Well... what made her leave? Surely you didn't just give up because—"
As I whipped my head around, pain poured out of while I stared into her innocent brown eyes. "Her boyfriend—my brother—died because of me."
"Because of..." Though she trailed off, shaking her head. "This isn't your fault, Lukas."
I immediately looked away from her again, not wanting to hear it. Not wanting to see it. How, after all that, can she look me in the eyes and say it's not my fault?
"You know that, right?" she persisted.
"You weren't there. You don't get it."
"I may not have been there, but, from what I've heard, if it's anyone's fault it's—"
"No. Don't say it," I cut her off. "It wasn't Ollie's fault either."
A soft sigh echoed around the room as Emma fell quiet. But, next I knew, her caramel hand came down atop my clenched fist, rubbing reassuring circles into the back of my hand.
"Look at me," she whispered.
Jaw clenching again, I shook my head.
"Lukas... Look at me."
Knowing she wouldn't stop until I did, reluctantly, I turned to face her, looking at her head instead into her knowing brown eyes. "You'd rather accept the blame than put it on her. I get it. But if you really think it is your fault, then tell me what happened after. From the point Ben died until the day she left... what could you possibly have done to make it your fault?"
Eyes finally drifting down to meet her soft gaze, I replied, "It's everything that happened before—"
"She asked you to wipe her memory. She asked you to do whatever it takes."
"But—"
"Tell me what came after, Lukas. Complete the full story before you jump to conclusions."
"What else do you want me to tell you? A person died because of us so she left. That's it."
Emma shook her head. "I think something else happened and that is what is eating at you."
"Nothing happened."
"I'll be the judge of that."
"Nothing happened."
"Oh yeah? Well, tell me about this nothing."
I turned away from her again, crossing my arms over my chest like a little kid. I was going to wait her out. Hope that she caved and this could just be the end of the conversation.
But Emma was more persistent than me.
From my peripherals, I could see her gaze locked on my face, patiently waiting for me to say something.
But what could I say?
How could I justify the events that followed?
How could I get her to understand this was all my fault and I just have to... live with it now.
Taking a deep breath, I reluctantly said, "We didn't know what Rüdiger had planned when he came to the house alone. He could have organised backup. Or maybe his loyal henchman have a system in place to look for him after a certain time passes... and I also had no clue how Stephen would react if he came home and found two dead bodies in his living room—one of them his son. So, keeping in line with my promise to Ben and knowing I, myself, wanted to keep her safe, I decided the rest of our crying had to wait... until we were safely back in Cologne."
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