by V. K. Ludwig
“What happened?” Darya asked, the floorboards creaking underneath our shifting weights, swaying with nowhere to go. There was no escaping this.
“Everything happened. Max’s dad, the Districts, the rebellion… fucking everything.”
“That’s why you’re pushing me away?”
No, I’m pushing you away because I am a fucking loser. A no-good, infertile joke of a husband. “There’s no room for us in this mess, Darya.”
I had said it sharp and to the point, rebuilding that wall I had hid behind for years. How could I have told her about Max? How could she even want someone like me?
She stood there, utterly clueless about what a failure I was. For years I thought it might be me. But now I carried the truth around my wrist, a big, fat holograph about how I let her down as a husband. As a man.
“B-but I love you,” she said.
Her trembling lips made my little, pathetic world twist all around. Of all the mistakes she made, loving me was the worst of them. The one I wouldn’t forgive her.
The thud of each heartbeat dulled inside my ears as if my thinking-brain had chained it with a throttle. Darya and Rose were worth fighting for. Dying for. But I was not, so how would I possibly put them in this much danger?
“Some men started conspiring against me,” I said, stacking my wall higher, using everything I found as concrete blocks — except for the truth. It didn’t want her to know just what a broken bastard she had married.
She stood there for a long while, stiff tendons lining her neck. The edge of her sole ran along the popped nail on one of the floorboards. Then she looked up at me, her beautiful green eyes making every single muscle inside my body clench. “But what about Adair? River? You have the support of some of our best men, and they will fight for you —”
“There, you said it. I have the support of some of the best man,” I said and turned my burning eyes away from her. “The rest of the best men isn’t happy at all about how I handled this entire District mess. Shit. They might be right for all I know. Always told you I’m not chieftain material.”
The thud of my heartbeat dulled some more, threatening a near-stop. In my mind, I saw myself killing every single motherfucker who wanted to hurt my family. Stab a knife between the ribs and puncture their lungs. Put a bullet in their stomach and watch them bleed out. I was sure I might pull it off, but reminding myself of the danger calmed the shame raging inside me.
She took a step toward me and clasped her hands around my arm like to the edge of a cliff. My chest constricted to a point I feared another breath might burst my ribcage. If she’d only known I wasn’t the edge. I was the fucking crater beneath her.
“I refuse to give up on us again,” she said, not a single tremble in her voice.
I wouldn’t let her sacrifice her own and Rose’s safety for me, but it didn’t surprise me how she insisted. Because she had no fucking idea what a let-down I was. There would never be a sibling for Rose, and there sure as hell wouldn’t be a male heir to strengthen my claim.
I have to let her go.
“What if we find proof that they took the things I said on video out of context?” she asked, a little less convinced now, a bit more insecure. “Make them see I’m not a traitor?”
“How? They prosecuted the only contact we had on the inside. He might be dead already for all we know.”
I walked over to the fire pit in the center of the longhouse and threw two fresh logs onto the embers. But no fire might drive out the cold I expected to move in next.
“You can stay at the cabin together with Rose,” I said. “As of right now, nobody believes the rumor that she isn’t mine. They all figured she was conceived before you ran away. Leaving with her would cause —”
“Suspicion,” she said.
“That, and it will give those who are plotting against me higher ground. I wouldn’t hold you back if you wanted to leave with her but… I… I want you to stay here. Where I can still make sure you have everything you need. We just can’t be…”
“Can’t be married,” she said, because I wasn’t man enough for many things, including spelling this out.
“I’ll stay at the longhouse for a while until River gets around to fixing the old brick house by the black walnut tree.”
Long silence paralyzed the room.
If I would have turned around, chances were she stood there with a pain-lined face. Holding her breath because even the tiniest movement of her chest might have split her heart. And I would have been the one who broke it.
Stiff but gentle, a lightweight hand settled on my shoulder. Conflict gnawed on my insides, curling my stature inside her palm. I wanted to take her into my arms. Wrap them around her. Protect her from whatever tried to pry between us — including me.
“Let’s all go away from here.” She said it too quickly. There was no place to go to for us, and she knew it. I shook my head, saying no inside my head, though I’m not sure if it ever made it past my lips.
Her voice sounded once more from behind me, a bit more frantic this time. “I don’t care if this is dangerous. Nothing out here is ever safe, anyway. We can fight off a rebellion, Rowan. Together.”
Shit. My arms trembled, probably because they wanted to grab her and pull her as close to me as possible. Maybe we could fight it, but I didn’t want her to take the risk. Would she even make such a foolish suggestion if she knew what Max told me?
I turned around, my chest rubbing against her arm, standing closer to her now than ex-lovers ever should. She gazed up at me with a fading sparkle of hope hanging at the corners of her eyes. As if I was the only man on this planet. Glorified into shame.
“No,” I said, keeping the you wouldn’t look at me like that if you understood to myself.
I wasted an entire year of my life blaming her for what happened. Telling myself, she ruined us. Broke my heart. I was so fucking stupid. The culprit lived in the mirror.
I spent my entire marriage ignoring the obvious. Because I was so fucking scared it might be me. Scared she’d leave me if she found out. She didn’t run away. I made her fucking run — but not far enough. The only thing left for me to do was fix it. Fix it for good.
“We both know this was a lost cause from the start, right?” I looked deep into her tear-filled eyes as if I expected her to nod. Secretly hoping she wouldn’t because I was fucking selfish like that. “We tried. And it was good. But it just isn’t going to happen. Things have changed since you left. I am chieftain now, and I need to act in the best interest of everyone. Including you. And Rose.”
“I can’t believe this,” she said, her lips twitching as if her filter wasn’t big enough for all those words sitting on her tongue. “When we had sex. When we made love to each other in the tent, I was a traitor, right?”
“Yeah, but —”
“And when you kissed me today in the morning and told me you missed waking up next to me… wasn’t I a traitor then?”
“It’s difficult to —”
She sucked in several quick breaths, her hands hanging stiff and fisted by her side. “It’s not difficult. It’s fucking stupid. What happened from the moment you left the cabin this morning, to now? When we woke up, you didn’t want me to leave, and now you’re trying to… you’re pushing me away.”
“I’m not pushing you away,” I barked, a weird, bitter taste spreading across my gums as if my words were a lie. But I wasn’t lying. I wanted to keep her safe is all. Yeah, that was it. “It’s dangerous, Darya. And I couldn’t forgive myself if anything happened to you or Rose.”
“Do you still love me?” it blurted out of her as if she didn’t listen shit to what I just said.
“I… what?”
“Do you love me?”
Fuck yeah, I love you. Love you more than my life.
“Darya, you are a mother now.” I took a step away from her, inch by inch killing myself from the inside out. “And I am a chieftain. Love has no place when our decisions impact the lives of other
s.”
I watched her grow smaller in front of me and hopeless and hurt. Her hand slipped off my shoulder and bounced against her hip. It dangled there as if detached from the rest of her body, the only moving thing on her otherwise struck-dead self.
“You’ll be looked after,” I blurted. “You won’t ever have to worry about food, or wood or… or safety.”
“And Rose?” Something in her tone turned the pit of my stomach into a boiling, aching mess.
“I’ll try my best to be a good dad. She’s my daughter, Darya.”
“Because that’s what others think?”
“No! No, no, no.” I took a step closer. Reassuring her Rose was one of the best things ever coming into my life. “Everything I said about loving her was true. I love her as if she was mine. No. She is mine. Now go to Autumn, get her and take her home.”
The large door gave a creak, and Adair hurried back inside, the way his steps slowed, proving the air inside the longhouse had turned thick and toxic.
My wife put on a smile, sad but thicker than a bullet-proof vest. She took my hand into hers. “You will be a great, great dad.” Then she slipped her hand off my fingers and disappeared through the door. And with her, the only thing I ever cared about.
“If I interrupted something then —”
“We were done anyway.” I turned away from him and walked up to the table, taking a few deep breaths. They did little, and the pain all but burned through my organs. “Did you brief the scouts?”
“Yeah, but there’s something else.” He waved at his holo-band, throwing white and gray pixels between us. “Oriel had that cool idea to connect to one of the remaining satellites. He checked the coordinates, and this is what he got.”
“Ok, help me here. What am I looking at?”
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out. See this here?” He pointed at a smudge, too irregular to be a roof. Also too black. “We figured it might be some sort of old shack, or perhaps a vehicle. But neither one would show up this dark in winter.”
I let my finger glide across the image, pointing out the little dimension the surrounding area offered. “Yup, and the trees over here are covered in snow. So is that road over there. Whatever it is, it doesn’t belong in the area. It should be covered in snow if it did.”
“Unless…” Adair stabbed the air with his index finger. “Unless something melted the snow in that spot.”
“A fire pit?”
He let his finger tab against his teeth now. “That’s what Oriel suggested, but I said it’s too big for that. Would’ve been a huge ass fire otherwise, considering this thing is like… what? Ten times the size of our fire pit outside?” He shut down the projection and put his hands inside his pockets. “Whatever it is, we can see something’s odd about the area. I was thinking to dispatch the scouts tonight. And go with them.”
“I don’t like that idea at all,” I said, letting myself drop onto one of the benches. “I need you and the guys around in the next few weeks until I got a better handle on the people again. Besides, you’re responsible for looking after Ruth.”
He took a deep breath and let the air rush out it short, interrupted sputters. “It’s not like she would be alone. My sister is still there. And I believe Ruth wouldn’t mind getting a little break from me.” Adair tried to smile, but it was almost as if the attempt caused him pain.
“She’s difficult, huh?”
“Actually, she’s pretty easy,” he mumbled and gave a lighthearted scoff, not matching those worry-lines above his eyebrows at all. “Anyway, we will be back tomorrow afternoon. I don’t think they’ll come for your head just yet.”
Suddenly, the idea of losing my head sounded a lot less scary than having to face my wife again. Look into her eyes once more, heartbreak and confusion fading the green into something pale and dull.
“I sent her away.” It had leaked out from me like a nasty, little secret. Forming a black puddle of self-pity and regret right in front of Adair. Of all people, it had to be Adair who was there at that very moment. What did he know about the pain of losing someone you loved?
“Might be better that way. I’m sure it took guts,” he said quick and to the point.
He had trimmed his vowels short and sharp, making me jealous about how certain he sounded. Whatever confidence I had felt a moment ago, now turned on me and slapped that stupid face of mine. It didn’t take guts. All this needed was a coward like me.
Chapter 24
Darya
The cold rocked my body. Or perhaps it was the fact that Rowan had sent me away. Whatever had happened came with something dark looming over it, wearing down on me without a name or an explanation.
Another step.
More distance between Rowan and me.
My feet stalled.
I wanted to turn around and confront him. Understand why. Because confusion never plunked down heavier on me than it did at that moment. Something inside told me, no, screamed there had to be more to it.
No, keep walking.
It’s not like things weren’t complicated enough already to justify his decision. Many months ago, I ran. Now I had to face the consequences, no matter how hard they squeezed my chest.
Dipping the white-capped pines in a glister, the midday sun shone through the thinned branches. I sunk my boots into the wet snow, meltwater pecking on my head, churning foolish ideas.
I passed a few people of my own damn Clan, their mumbles and whispers coming on like the wind before a storm. Sure enough, the more distance I brought between us with quick steps, the nastier the storm grew. Their voices turned violent, whipping offensive comments my way. The walk to Autumn’s and Max’s cabin never seemed as steep as it did that day.
I gave three desperate and painful knocks against their pewter steel door, mumbled cries pushing through from whatever was going on behind it.
Max opened, his forehead in wrinkles. “Thank god you’re here. Rose won’t take her bottle. Slapped it out of my hands at least three times, and now she’s super fussy and upset.”
“Did you warm it up?” I asked and stepped inside, leaving my coat on the makeshift wardrobe in the shape of a crooked nail in the wall. “If the milk isn’t warm enough, she’ll get a tummy ache, so she usually refuses it right away.”
“As per Rowan’s instructions.” Autumn walked up to me, her hands and arms wrestling Rose’s restless legs. “But we won’t have to worry about that anymore, do we? She’s your problem now.”
She plopped Rose against my chest and handed me the bottle, almost cool to the touch.
“This milk wasn’t warm enough,” I said.
Max crossed his arms in front of his chest and shook his head. “Well, it was twenty minutes ago. That’s how long we’ve been trying to get her to eat. She’s clearly hungry. Just refuses to take it from us.”
Rose gave another high-pitched screech which bounced against the bare walls and echoed through the empty home. The tiles on the floor lacked the warmth of rugs, not to mention the non-existence of most all furniture pieces. Going by the sparkle in their eyes, excited about starting a brand spanking new family, they didn’t seem to mind much.
“Got a couch?” I asked.
“Not yet,” Autumn said, pulling a step ladder out from the cupboard underneath the unfinished stairs. “You can use this. Whatever it takes to make her stop crying. It’s driving me insane.”
“We have to warm up the bottle again.”
“Yeah, about that.” Max gave Autumn an embarrassed glanced from the corner of his eyes. “I kinda might have forgotten to clear the snow off the collectors. Our battery bank went dry a few minutes ago. We already sent Peggy to fetch Uncle Peter so he can help me clear them.”
“He’s still getting used to having to work for electricity,” Autumn said, a taunting smile lining her lips.
“Yeah,” Max mumbled, “still getting used to it.”
I sat and placed Rose across my lap, cradling her head in the pit of my elbow. She r
ooted for the nipple of the bottle as soon as I offered it, paused for a moment, then began to suck. Her face scrunched up at the taste of the cold milk, but she continued without another fuss.
“Guess it wasn’t the milk. Probably hates us,” Max said, the humorous tone of his voice just barely masking his concern.
Autumn pushed herself in front of him, taking his arms and wrapping them around her waist. “That’s bullshit, and you know it. You’ll do amazing with our kids.”
“Kids… man, I still can’t believe it will be two of them.” He gave a subdued laugh, his gaze drifting off into the room. “My mom once joked about having twins. Told my dad over dinner that having me and Nathalie was like overeating on a Sunday roast. Said she enjoyed it, but in the end, she felt like she might have overdone it a little, and would remind herself not to do it again.”
The room fell silent for a bit, and Max closed his eyes as if he tried to relive the moment in his thoughts. That Rose might never get to enjoy something like it punched against my heart, making me crouch over her little body.
“Rowan and I will divorce,” it blurted out of me, leaving a rancid taste along my gums.
The silence continued, except for the quick gasp Autumn took. She gave Max a questioning look, but he only shrugged his shoulders, his wide eyes rolling around in their sockets. I didn’t have the energy to question his reaction. It all went into easing the pain.
Autumn stepped away from her husband and kneeled beside me, leaving a large gap between us and me looking straight at my past. My sister-in-law wouldn’t forgive me. One of the few who knew the truth about what happened in the Districts. If she wouldn’t forgive, how would others ever?
“He will come around,” she said in a voice that left no doubt it was well-meant but not heartfelt.
“No, he won’t,” I said, wiping a tear from my eye before it would rain down on my baby. Losing my shit in front of everyone and bawling my eyes out? What right did I have to that?
I left Rowan over a year ago — thinking he’d take me back was stupid to begin with. The shaking returned, and for a second I feared I’d throw up onto Autumn’s not-yet-sealed oak floors.