chapter forty-two

At the same time… 

The wine glass’s cool weight pressed into my palm, its crystal surface reflecting the dim light of the room. I sat on the couch, my eyes fixed on the bottle of wine on the coffee table, untouched and unopened. My mind was a mess, a storm of emotions I couldn’t control.

The weight of the world pressed down on me, crushing my spirit. My once-familiar life had shattered into a million pieces, leaving me lost and adrift in a sea of uncertainty. Each breath I took felt heavy as if my lungs were filled with lead.

Vanessa possessed my heart, both physically and metaphorically. Her power over me could extinguish my life with a flick of her wrist or a twist of her words. And I yearned for her to do so.

The hinges of the front door screeched as the door opened, but my eyes remained fixed on the coffee table. I didn’t care who it was. I was too lost in my own thoughts to even care. It could have been a vampire hunter, a fellow vampire, or even the police. I didn’t care.

Hadrian sat down next to me, his presence a comforting presence on the couch. He didn’t say anything, and I didn’t either. We sat there in silence, the only sound being the ticking of the clock on the wall.

I felt Hadrian’s hand on my shoulder, and I brushed it away. I didn’t desire to be touched, not by anyone. I didn’t want to be reminded of the affection I had lost.

I was spiraling, and I knew it. I was losing control, and I didn’t know how to stop it. I was drowning in my own misery, and I couldn’t see a way out.

Hadrian’s voice reached my ears, but his words held no solace. My mind was a labyrinth of torment, and my heart was a desolate wasteland. I had succumbed to the depths of despair, beyond the reach of salvation.

Hadrian’s hand struck my face with a force that sent a shockwave through my skull. The suddenness of the blow caught me off guard, and the glass I held slipped from my fingers, bouncing off the couch and shattering on the floor.

Anger surged through me, but I didn’t strike back. Instead, I grabbed Hadrian by the collar of his shirt and dragged his face to mine. Our lips met in a brutal kiss, a clash of wills and emotions.

Hadrian resisted at first, but I overpowered him, pinning him against the couch. I kissed him with a ferocity that matched my desperation. I wanted to taste him, to consume him, to make him forget about Vanessa and focus on me.

Hadrian’s body softened against mine, and he responded to my kiss with equal passion. His hands roamed my body, exploring every curve and crevice. I lost myself in his touch, in the taste of his mouth, and in the heat of his desire.

For a brief moment, I forgot about Vanessa and my impending death. I allowed myself to be consumed by Hadrian and the pleasure he brought me. I kissed him with a neediness that bordered on desperation as if I was trying to absorb his essence into my own.

Hadrian pulled away from the kiss, breathing heavily. “I’ve kissed guys before,” he said, “but never like this.”

I looked into his eyes, seeing a flicker of something I couldn’t quite decipher. Was it desire? Affection? Or was it simply lust?

I didn’t care. I wanted him, and I wanted him now. I pushed him back onto the couch and straddled him, my body hovering over his. I kissed him again, this time more gently, more tenderly. I wanted to make him feel pleasure, to make him forget about his worries, to make him lose himself in me.

Hadrian’s hands caressed my body, his touch light and teasing. He kissed me back, his tongue exploring my mouth, his breath mingling with mine. I felt myself coming undone, my body responding to his touch in ways I had never experienced before.

I lost myself in the moment, forgetting everything except the two of us. I kissed him with a desperate passion I had never felt for anyone before, not even Vanessa. She was my everything, but my feelings for Hadrian were different.

I loved them both but in different ways. Vanessa was my obsession, my muse, and the inspiration for my art. Hadrian was my solace, my comfort, and the one who made me feel alive.

I wanted them both. I couldn’t choose between them. And I didn’t want to.

I kissed Hadrian again, pouring all of my love and desire into the kiss. I wanted to make him mine, to possess him, to keep him forever.

If I was going to die tonight, I wanted to die in his arms, feeling his love and his passion. I wanted to die knowing that I had loved and been loved in return.

I pulled Hadrian closer, deepening the kiss. I wanted to taste every inch of him, to memorize every sensation he gave me. I wanted to make this moment last forever.

I loved Hadrian. I loved Vanessa. And I was willing to do anything to keep them both.

I take a deep breath, cleaning up the heart I mutilated. The blood washed away, and I felt a sense of calm, a release of anger and grief. Destroying the heart, even though it was a lie, provided a strange solace. The pieces of my rapist’s heart lie before me, a potent reminder of my power, my revenge.

The real heart, Orpheus’s heart, pounds steadily in its glass container, a silent witness to my actions. I placed it on the top shelf of my lab, between two of my favorite plants, where it would serve as a constant reminder of our complicated relationship.

Next to the heart, I displayed the note Orpheus gave me, framed and prominent. Full of regret, apologies, and professions of love. I wasn’t ready to forgive him yet. But the note was a bridge, a connection.

Even though I was hurting, the anger had subsided, replaced by a dull ache of grief. I didn’t know if I could ever fully forgive Orpheus, but I could see a path forward, a glimmer of hope in the darkness.

The mutilated heart and the framed note were symbols of my journey, of my pain, and my resilience. I’d faced my demons, confronted my past, and emerged stronger. I wasn’t the same person I was before.

I was still angry, still grieving, but I was hopeful. I had survived the darkness, and now I was ready to embrace the light.

I walked to the sink and washed my hands, the blood swirling down the drain. I looked at my reflection in the mirror, and I saw a woman who had come through hell and back. I saw a woman who was ready to face whatever the future held. Above all, I saw a woman who was strong, resilient, and determined.

Determined to move forward, I gathered up the pieces of the heart and the washbasin full of bloody water. I carried them outside and emptied the bloody water into a nearby bush. The pieces of the heart I placed one by one in with the organs of my latest victim, not wanting to waste a drop of anything from this deviant.