The wind tugged at my hair as I leaned against the wooden railing of the dock, one arm lazily wrapped around the long post supporting the gazebo. The bottle in my other hand dangled loosely at my side, its glass cool against my palm. I raised it to my lips, taking a small sip, the sharp taste burning on its way down. It wasn't enough to make me forget, not completely, but at least it dulled the edges. I wasn't as happy as I used to feel when I was taking the pills, but I wasn't drowning in my own thoughts either.
I tilted my head, looking out at the dark river below. It swayed lightly, almost in rhythm with the quiet hum of the night. The reflection of the moon wavered on the surface, broken into pieces by the gentle ripples. I felt weightless, detached. Not quite happy, not quite sad, but something in between—a hollow kind of freedom.
Still, sadness lingered beneath it all, seeping into my chest like a slow, creeping tide. No matter how much I drank, I couldn't drown it out. I felt like a horrible person. Selfish.
My stomach twisted as the thought I'd been trying to ignore pushed its way to the front of my mind. I was actually considering taking Ivan's offer. Considering harming Kai and Emma's relationship just to make myself feel better. Just to stop feeling like this. I hated myself for it, but the ache in my chest was relentless, and the pills—I knew they'd make it all go away. They always did. For a while, at least.
I took another sip from the bottle, the liquid burning against my throat as if it could scald away the guilt. It didn't. I let out a shaky breath, staring down at the water again.
Then it hit me.
Someone else's emotions crashed into mine like a wave, so strong and overwhelming that I straightened instinctively, my hand tightening around the railing. Joy. Overwhelming joy. Satisfaction. It was so sharp and vivid that it collided with my sadness, making my chest tighten. I couldn't relate to any of it. It felt foreign, almost intrusive, like someone had cracked open my head and poured it in against my will.
My body tensed as I shifted, adjusting myself to see where it was coming from. I moved too fast, my foot slipping slightly on the damp wood. I caught myself, my heart racing, and turned to look behind me.
My stomach dropped.
Atlas.
He was walking toward the patio leading to the house, hands shoved into his pockets, his steps casual as if he didn't have a care in the world. The moonlight caught on his profile, highlighting his sharp features. The sight of him sent a jolt through me, my breath catching in my throat.
I didn't want him to see me. I didn't want to talk to him, didn't want to even remember he existed. My chest tightened with the memory of him, the weight of everything I tried so hard to forget threatening to pull me under.
