~ ROSELLE ~

"What do you mean?" Ronan asks, his voice barely a whisper.

I can see the pain in his eyes, the fear, and it fucking hurts. It hurts like a blade, worse than a blade being stabbed into my chest. The way he’s looking at me, like he’s trying to understand, like he’s searching for some explanation that will make sense of what I’m saying... It destroys me.

But I have to keep going. I have to push through this, even as my heart shatters into a thousand pieces.

"I mean..." I start, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to keep it steady, "it’s all making sense to me now, Ronan. You treat me like I’m some gullible child who doesn’t have a say in anything. You rescued me, and I’m grateful for that. You fought for me. You saved me and did these... these monumental things for me."

I pause, swallowing hard, forcing myself to meet his eyes even though it feels like I’m dying inside.

"But I never asked you to do any of that."

His face goes pale. His hands drop from my waist like I’ve burned him.

"What are you—" he starts, but I cut him off, the words pouring out of me now like poison, like venom, and I hate myself for every single one.

"It’s almost like you’re keeping score, Ronan. Like you rescued me, so now I owe you. Like you fought for me, so now I have to marry you. Like you saved my life, so now I’m obligated to be with you forever." My voice cracks, but I push through it, swallowing the large lump that’s threatening to swallow me. "And that makes you exactly like everyone else. Exactly like Warren and everyone expecting something from me in return for basic human decency."

"Roselle, that’s not—" he tries again, reaching for me, but I hold up my hand, creating distance between us.

"Don’t," I say sharply, blinking away the blurriness in my eyes. "Don’t try to convince me otherwise. Don’t try to make this about something it’s not."

Tears are streaming down my face now, but I don’t wipe them away. I let them fall, let him see the devastation written across my features. Because this pain is real. This agony is real. And maybe if he sees it, he’ll understand that I’m not doing this to hurt him.

Even though I am. Even though every word is a weapon I’m turning against the only person I’ve ever truly loved.

"I don’t want this anymore, Ronan," I whisper, and the words feel like death. "I don’t want you. I don’t want the wedding. I don’t want any of it."

He stumbles backward, his hand gripping the edge of the table for support. His grey eye, those beautiful, perfect grey eyes that I’ve fallen so deeply in love with—are filled with such raw pain that I almost break and confess everything.

But I don’t. I can’t.

"I want to leave," I continue. "I want to leave your pack. I want to go somewhere else, somewhere far away from here. And I want to do it alone."

"Roselle—" His voice is hoarse, desperate, and it tears me apart. "Please don’t do this. I don’t understand what’s happening. What did I do? What did I say that made you feel this way?"

I close my eyes, unable to look at the devastation on his face anymore.

"You didn’t do anything wrong," I say quietly. "That’s not the point."

"Then what is the point?" he demands, his voice rising slightly. "Help me understand. Please. Just... explain to me what’s changed. This morning you were fine. This afternoon when I called you said you were writing. And now you’re telling me you don’t want me anymore? That you want to leave?"

I open my eyes and look at him, to I see the man I love breaking apart in front of me. His shoulders are tense, his jaw clenched, his hands shaking slightly as they grip the table.

And it’s all my fault.

"I don’t owe you an explanation," I say, and the cruelty of the words makes me want to scream. "I don’t owe you anything, Ronan. You saved me, yes. But I never asked you to. You fought for me, but that was your choice. You sacrificed for me, but that’s on you, not on me."

I take a step away from him, putting more physical distance between us.

"Love is optional," I say, my voice barely above a whisper now. "It’s a choice. And I’m choosing not to love you anymore. I’m choosing to leave. And you can’t force me to stay. You can’t force me to feel something I don’t feel."

The lie tastes like poison on my tongue.

I feel everything. I feel too much. I feel like my heart is being ripped out of my chest and stomped on repeatedly. I feel like I’m suffocating, like I’m drowning in an ocean of my own tears.

But I say the words anyway, because they’re the only words that will set him free.

"I could die too, you know," I add, my voice taking on an edge of desperation. "If I’m not your true mate, the curse could kill me just like it’s killed all the others. And I’m not willing to risk that. I’m not willing to be another body in your wake, another victim of this curse."

Ronan’s face goes absolutely ashen. He opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again.

"That’s not—" he starts, but his voice breaks. He clears his throat, trying again. "That’s not going to happen. I won’t let it happen. I’ll find another way. I’ll—"

"You can’t promise that," I cut him off, my voice sharp as glass. "You can’t promise me that I won’t die. You can’t promise me that this will work out. And I’m not going to sit around and wait to find out."

I turn away from him, wrapping my arms around myself because if I don’t, I’m going to collapse.

"I want you to let me go, Ronan. I want you to accept my decision and respect it. And I want you to move on. Find your true mate. Break the curse. Live a long, happy life without me."

Silence fills the room, tense and nearly suffocating.

When he finally speaks, his voice is so quiet I almost don’t hear it.

"Is that what you really want?" he asks, and the brokenness in his tone nearly destroys me. "You want me to just... let you go? To accept that this is over?"

I can’t turn around. If I turn around and see his face, I’m going to break. I’m going to confess everything, and then all of this will have been for nothing.

"Yes," I say, the word falling like a stone. "That’s what I want."

Another long silence stretches between us. I can hear him breathing, can feel his eyes on my back.

Finally, I hear him move. The soft sound of his footsteps as he walks toward the door.

"Okay," he says quietly, and those two words break me more than anything else he could have said. "If that’s what you want, then you can go. I won’t stop you. I won’t make you stay."

He pauses at the doorway, and I hear the tremor in his voice as he speaks again.

"But I need you to know something, Roselle. I never expected anything from you. I never rescued you or fought for you because I thought you owed me something in return. I did those things because I love you. Because you matter to me. Because the thought of losing you terrifies me more than any curse ever could."

I squeeze my eyes shut, tears streaming down my face in torrents now.

"I thought you loved me too," he continues, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I guess I was wrong. I guess I misread the situation. I’m sorry for that."

The door opens, and I hear him step through it.

"Take care of yourself, Roselle. And if you ever change your mind... if you ever want to come back... you know where to find me."

Then the door closes with a soft click, and he’s gone.