Chapter 45

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- Late June, 2045 - (11 months ago)

He didn't know what would happen the next time he saw her, but he never expected this.

The night before, Jamie's head swam as the news reporter continued talking about the gruesome murder that took place earlier that afternoon. The police had gotten a call about a house fire, then discovered a dead body when they were investigating. The woman was Nicole Cross, who looked extremely similar to Daija. He had an idea of what happened, but he wanted to be wrong.

Then he saw her at the coffee shop the next day talking to Devin. Jamie had gone to pick up a paycheck after seeing his car parked outside, then stopped right in his tracks when he saw her. On top of her looking a little sleepy, there was something different in her eyes. She stared at him with uncertainty, and even hints of disgust.

Jamie wondered if she knew about him entering her apartment, but he didn't leave a single trace, so he dismissed that as him being paranoid. Then Devin hugged her and muttered those terrible words. "I hope your move goes smoothly."

Moving. She was leaving.

She met his eyes and gestured for him to talk with her outside. He knew that she'd have plenty to say in regards to their last conversation, and he thought that he was ready for it.

He thought wrong.

First, they talked about the earthquake and the blizzard. It turned out that she watched the videos and found out about her father, then bursted. His heart sank. He forgot that he gave her the drive and promised that they'd watch it together. They argued, she disappeared, she found out the truth, and now she's hurting more than he could ever imagine.

Jamie told her that he knew that she was with Simon. She warned him not to bring him up, telling him that she would've never explained that she was in love with him if she knew he'd react that way. Her words hit their mark, and he tried desperately to explain that he never meant that.

He said that Simon didn't deserve her. She didn't respond.

He asked her if she killed her mother. She also didn't respond, because she knew there was no point in lying. He felt a small burst of panic, and she told him that she wouldn't hurt him. He knew and understood that her mother was terrible, but he never would've imagined that Daija would kill her the way she did.

Then she called him a murderer, and his heart dropped.

She knew the truth. She knew just how pathetic and powerless he truly was. She knew that he was there the night Simon's brother was murdered. She knew that he let him out so he could kill Ian.

As she stared at him, the disgust from earlier returned, and he couldn't stomach the way she felt about him now.

But still, he admitted that he lied; admitted that he wanted to fit a specific image of her. He told her that he was sorry, and he knew that wasn't enough to fix anything. He told her that he was serious about fixing Kunross, then he begged her to not choose Simon, begged her to stay, and begged her to just give him time.

But she told him that she was happy with him, and he felt like his heart was ripped from his chest. A mix of desperation, heartbreak and rage bubbled up, and he barely remembered anything else that was said before he left. He knew she was hurt by something he said, but he didn't care. He needed to leave, he needed to get home so he could process and figure out what his next move was.

He needed to finish what he started. He was out of time.

He stopped by the facility to pick up a few things, and he passed Fiona at the front door. She eyed him curiously, then quietly asked, "Are you okay?"

Jamie's gaze drifted to the snow that covered the ground of the city, already starting to melt a little bit now that the temperature was evening out. Her snow. Her. Melting, slipping away, soon to be gone unless he did something quick.

"I will be," he promised.

He expected Fiona to question him further, but instead, her mouth curved into a soft, almost sinister smile. "Same," she said, and the look in her eyes told him that she wasn't going to add anything else.

----- ----- ----- -----

It was near three in the morning when he finished. The key that he used to lock it away was on his desk, and the contents of the forbidden file cabinet were scattered around his spare bedroom that he used for his projects.

The scent of lavender wafted through the room, and he held up a small vial of the raspberry-colored liquid in the light to see it better. It just needed to sit for a few days, and it would be ready. Then he truly will be okay like he promised Fiona.

He smiled, then didn't even try to stop the snicker that rose as he tipped his head back. Oh, he was out of his mind. Absolutely out of his mind and he didn't care anymore. He was tired of losing, especially to people who were much, much more powerful than him. He was tired of hiding his feelings for Daija. He was tired of being near the heroes' daily bickering and bullshit. He was tired of putting on an act for them and making it seem like he'd be okay just doing their work.

What was the point of pretending? He wanted to lead the heroes, he wanted Simon out of the picture and he wanted Daija by side. He could have all three if he simply stopped holding himself back. He often wondered how much he could've had in his life if he didn't hold back for the sake of others and what they would think or feel.

So, he decided that he wouldn't hold back anymore. 

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