“Your father is staying in one of the guest rooms,” Ezra says, making me focus back on him.
I nod, climbing off him. How does someone tell their father I’m sorry for being the reason your soulmate is dead? I can’t face him, not now.
“Kat?” Ezra tries to get my attention, as I sit on the end of the bed.
This could have been avoided if they let me heal her, they all stood and watched, watched her turn gray, watched her die for me, and not one of them let me help her when they knew I could.
“We can’t save everyone Kat, not without suffering the consequences, the consequences for her life would have been ours,” Kora points out.
“We don’t know that, and now we never will,” I tell her.
“I know it wasn’t a risk they were willing to take, Kat, not even your father was willing to trade her life for yours. Mom wouldn’t, she would hate us if we tried and died for her. I see that now, you just need to,” Kora reasons.
What happens now? Do we move on like she never existed? I couldn’t fathom going on without her, not without hearing her voice, feeling the softness of her hands and the warmth of her hugs. How does one survive without that?
“We have them, we have a dad.” Kora tries to reassure me, yet her words don’t make me feel any better.
“Stay out of my head, Kora.”
“Bit hard when I live in it,” she huffs, becoming annoyed with me, I am annoyed at her too, so at least we are in agreement on that emotion.
Ezra grabs my hand, and I pull away from him, not because I didn’t want him touching me, but because I know if he did, I would break. I would rather feel numb than the water works, at least then, I don’t have to feel anything at all and can live in my misery and deal with it on my own, as long as they don’t touch me.
“Where did dad take her?” I ask him.
“The morgue, but I can’t let you go there, Kat.”
“I know that, I was just asking, Ezra,” I retort, before getting up and walking to the bathroom. I am still naked from shifting, and I can smell the rusty iron scent of blood all over me, and it is making my skin itch as it stains me. Ezra comes in as I step in the shower, and sits on the sink basin, staring at me.
“You don’t need to linger, just go do whatever you need to do,” I tell him.
“You’re mad.”
“I’m not mad at you, just go away.” I need him to listen for once, to give me this time.
“You know that isn’t going to happen, so why bother asking? You’re my mate, Kat. I am not going to leave you.”
“Why? Do you want to pretend you actually liked her? I bet Maddox is glad he got what he wanted, what you both wanted, the only difference is he’s not afraid to admit it, you don’t have to play nice because she was my mom, Ezra, and it is insulting that you would try, so just leave me be.”
“I don’t hate your mother, Kat.”
“Why, because she is dead? You hated her a week ago, you don’t have to pretend to give a shit,” I tell him, rinsing my hair, congealed blood plopping on the ground before dissolving and washing down the drain.
“You have every right to be angry, Kat, but that doesn’t give you a right to be a bitch.” Ezra snaps before walking out.
“That was uncalled-for, Kat, and you know it,” Kora says.
“Maybe so, but it was the truth,” I corrected her, grabbing the soap. I’m not wrong. Ezra did hate her, and not that long ago he wanted her out of the way. I shower, not wanting to get out, like I can wash away the emotions swirling inside. I’m trying to build up the courage to check on my father. Facing him is facing the truth, and I’m not ready. Hopping out of the shower, I grab a towel, wrapping it around me, and slinking into the walk-in. I grab some pajamas, slipping them on. Padding out of the closet, Ezra walks in with Mateo. “Which room is my father in?” I ask them.
“Third door,” Mateo answers, glancing down the hall. I swallow a lump forming in my throat and plod that way. His scent seeps from the crack under the door, and opening it, all I can smell is the saltiness of his tears. He is asleep on the bed. He’s pale and there are tracks of tears down his grimy cheeks. He hasn’t even showered after everything, bits of the battle remain on his body. He is curled up on himself under a blanket and trembles in his sleep. I’ve never seen him look so broken, it is strange. He still reeks of his despair, which is undoubtedly haunting his dreams.
I pull the blanket back, climbing in behind him, and I drape my arm over his waist when he moves, grabbing my hand in his.
“Hey, Pumpkin,” he whispers before his body shakes. Seeing him break and come apart at the seams, is destroying the last piece of hope I have that he will survive this a second time. Kora wails in my head at his anguish, and I can’t bring myself to say anything. I just hold him, as if by doing so, he can somehow put the pieces of himself back together without her.
Mateo
I know her pain, lived it twice, and honestly, it never gets easier when you realize everything they will miss, certain days that represent them, birthdays, Mother’s Day, holidays. The things they were always there for suddenly feel empty and pointless without them.
We wait for her to leave her dad’s room for hours, but after a while, Ezra feels her fall asleep.
“We should probably organize funeral arrangements tomorrow,” Ezra suggests, and I look at him.
“She might want to help,” I point out, and he nods in consideration. Neither of us had mothers, we both lost ours while young, and my biological mother was a distant memory. From what I did remember of her, I knew she never wanted me, not me in particular, just children in general, that much was clear. On the other hand, I was to continue the bloodline, so my father wanted me, he was a good man and never wasted an opportunity to be with Ezra and me considering we were joined at the hip.