I’m worked into a cocoon of my own making.

I can’t even imagine facing the light of day ever again.

I feel like a damn vampire. If the sun were to hit my skin, I might just melt.

All I want is darkness and shadows to envelop me, and I wish not to wake up from the blackness.

With the death of Theo, my world came crashing down.

He was like a brother to me. He always protected me no matter what. He was my only source of light and life for so long.

And now he’s gone.

Realizing that hard truth has been like a punch in the stomach from which I’ll never get over.

I’ve lost a lot of people in my life—bodyguards, relatives, but no one like Theo. I’m never lost someone I cared about so deeply.

And at this point, I blame Tristan. How could he have done it?

I know I’ve been for in bed for days. I’m not sure exactly how long.

I can’t tell whether the sun has come or gone. The curtains are drawn tight, and it’s just gloom in here, like the state of my mind and my soul.

Benny keeps coming in to check with me. He really has become a friend.

Right now is no different.

He’s always bringing me food or whatever else he thinks I might want. But I haven’t had anything for the past couple days except for a little bit of water.

Feels like my body is wasting away. Just like my insides.

I’m just not strong enough to survive this feud any longer. I need a reprieve.

Benny knocks quietly on the door and comes in, carrying a tray of stuff like usual.

There’s a rose on it in a little vase, and Benny says, “That’s from Tristan. He’s really torn up, Isobel. He can’t see you like this. He’s going fucking crazy worrying about you.”

I turn over in my bed and say, “Let them worry. I’m not okay, Benny.”

And with those words, a fresh flood of tears comes to the surface, and I cry into my pillow.

Benny sits down next to me and strokes my hair.

“Isobel, this isn’t your fault. It’s not really Tristan’s fault, either. You know Theo would’ve killed him otherwise. This is the game of war. We’ve been playing it a long time, and it’s coming to an end. You’ll be free soon. And so will Tristan. Just think of that.”

I turn to look at him with my bloodshot eyes. Doesn’t he understand what just happened to me?

“Benny, you don’t get it. Try losing someone you love and then come talk to me. Screw the war. Screw our families. I don’t want any of it anymore, not even Tristan. He should never have done this to me.”

He sets the tray down on the bed and says, “But Isobel, you have to forgive him. He didn’t do it intentionally. Theo was the one that wanted to do it. Blame him.”

His words incense me and make me burn with fresh rage.

I turn on him and say, “Get out of here, Benny. You don’t understand a thing. I don’t want to see you, and I don’t want to see anybody else—especially Tristan.”

And then I turn towards the wall and pull the covers closer to my neck, indicating this conversation is over. He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about.

In the coming days, I eat a little bit more, but I don’t leave the room. I stay in bed and hours turn into hours and days turn into days, and I don’t how long I’ve been here, and I don’t care.

In the back of my mind, I’m starting to think that I have to get away from this fortress. The problem is I can’t go home.

I can’t trade one prison for another.

As my heart aches for Theo, my thoughts lend themselves toward escaping. Maybe I can be free of all of this.

But then inevitably, I come back to the reality that I love Tristan, and I could never leave him. He’s sewn into my heart like he’s a piece of me.

And Tristan does come to check on me. Almost hourly, he’s opening the door and peeking inside just to see if I’m okay. I know he must be worried sick. I know if he was in this position, I would be worried sick.

But I’m in a harrowing daze, and I barely care or notice that he’s there. Even though the light of our love is pumping hard in my heart still, I don’t want to see him.

Eventually, after I’ve been in bed for what feels like a week, I feel a little life in me one day.

Benny comes in with a tray like usual, and he’s prepared to leave but I say, “Benny, do you think you can do me a favor?”

“Anything, Isobel.”

“Do you think you can get me an espresso? I’d like to wake up.”

He smiles and leaves the room quickly, probably anxious to tell Tristan that I’ve come around.

I get up and slip out of my clothes. I walk around his master suite naked. I pull on Tristan’s oversized robe and go to the window and draw open the curtains—but the light of day is too much at this point. I shut them quickly.

Benny comes back in with a cappuccino, and I take it gratefully.

“Thanks. I’m gonna take a bath,” I tell him.

“Tristan bought you something. It’s on the bed,” he says before leaving.

I drink my cappuccino and think about Tristan. Being in love with him like this is a problem.

I can’t get away from him—nor do I want to. We’re permanently united, and it feels good but scary and intense all the same. I know I can’t stay mad at him, even for this.

I run the bath and walk out to the master suite to see a large box on the bed.

I open it, and there’s a red slip dress inside. He knows I love to wear stuff like this.

There’s also a pair of red-soled black leather heels, and I can’t help but smile.

Fashion will do that to a girl, especially after a week of grieving.

I go back to his en-suite and slip into the bath. I make it warm, almost tepid, like my feelings. I don’t know how to feel anymore. I just lost Theo—and yet I’m still in love with Tristan.

I float in the water, wondering again what it feels like to die. I could just sink underneath the bubbles, and it could be all over.

Why is death constantly swimming in my mind?

I know it comes with the territory of being a Capulet, but still, is this normal?

In the end, I decide it’s because of my upbringing. I’ve been surrounded by death my entire life, if not directly, then by association. I know my father’s a crime lord.

And yet I have hope for the future. Maybe I can escape this life. Maybe I can live like a normal person and not have to be surrounded by crime and murder for the rest of my days.

I get out of the bath and brush my hair. I oil my body and leave my face makeup-free.

Then I go to Tristan’s gift. I slip into the heels. I pull the red slip dress over my head.

It fits like a dream. He knows me too well.

I put on my favorite diamond necklace and then sit on the bed, not knowing what to do next.

I can’t think about meeting Tristan right now. I can’t think about leaving this room and walking through the penthouse and having the guards and all the people stare at me like, This is the girl that’s been grieving for so long.

Being the center of attention is not my thing. A part of me still just wants to disappear back into the blankets and never come out again.

Somebody knocks on the door, and I assume it’s Benny with another espresso.

But it’s Tristan. He peeks his head around the corner and looks at me. And yes, he’s carrying another cappuccino. Thank god, too, because I need it.

He walks in, seeing that I’m up and awake for once.

“Isobel, are you okay?”

I look at him and say, “What kind of question is that? Of course it’s not okay, Tristan. You ruined my life. You stole away the one person that I loved.”

He doesn’t hesitate to walk right in. He leaves the cappuccino on the bedside table and then comes to me. He sits next to me on the bed, and just the smell of him, his masculine scent, and his energy—they overwhelm me.

I’m in love.

But I try to hold back. I’m mad at him, after all.

I sit back and take the cappuccino and sip it. It slowly wakes my body and mind up out from the hazy fog I’ve been stuck underneath.

“Isobel, I know I can’t explain anything to you. You saw exactly what happened. But you have to forgive me and get over it. This is war, after all.”

I ignore him and sip the cappuccino. He watches me intently the entire time. I can’t make eye contact with him, or I know that’ll be it, I’ll melt and give in to him and give him whatever he wants.

He gets up and walks over to the windows to open the curtains. Just as he’s doing so, I say, “No. Please don’t. I’m not ready.”

He comes back to me and has a worried look on his face.

“Isobel, you have to start living again. Theo’s gone.”

I try not to look at him, but I can’t help it. Eventually, I raise my eyes up to his face, and we make eye contact.

Fire.

Ice.

Just like I said, this one moment of eye contact reconnects me with him, and I know that it’s real, and I’m his again forever.

I put the cappuccino down and get up and go to him. I hug him tightly and cry a little bit. I nuzzle into his strong body and feel for once like it’s gonna be okay.

He holds me for a while just like that, our bodies feeling each other again after what feels like an eternity.

And then he puts his strong arms underneath me and picks me up and brings me back to the bed. He lays me down gently and begins to kiss me like he’s never kissed me before.

All the days of being apart are flashing into memory, and all I can think about is him and all he can think about is me.

We need each other to survive.

He peels the red slip dress off of my body, and I feel grateful to be back in his embrace again.

At the same time, I know this is an inescapably deep kind of love—and I just want to fall into him forever.