MY LIFE IS a beautiful tragedy.
A sad love story on an endless loop. The players may evolve and the setting may change, but it’s always the same. Love. Pain. Death. Repeat.
We’re just waiting for the end. Waiting to take a bow and let the curtain close so we can quietly escape backstage where normalcy awaits.
But does it really end? Will we ever truly find peace?
Niko did.
He gave his life for mine. He used his own body as a shield, because somewhere in his lovely, convoluted mind, he felt like my existence was worth more than his. And for some God-forsaken reason, he chose to absorb the massive ball of power that Stavros had wielded in a desperate attempt to destroy me once and for all. How stupid. How completely stupid and courageous.
Niko was selfless. Brave. Loyal.
And now he’s free.
I drowned in my tears for 48 hours. I didn’t even breathe. I mourned that man like I had lost a piece of myself. Like someone had sliced off an arm or a leg with a rusty blade, leaving it to fester in the hot sun. I grieved that part of me, shaking and sobbing as Dorian held me tight, rocking our bodies back and forth. And when I was too weak and exhausted to shed anymore tears, he cried for me. For he had lost…everything.
The day of our would-be wedding, Dorian lost everything.
His brother, his father. And his mother.
Stavros was not as dead as we’d thought when we left Skiathos. And after his body had been moved, his spirit lived, seeking out his attempted killer, consuming all her magic until she was no more than a dry, empty carcass.
With what little power he had left, combined with Delia’s, he manifested to Niko’s home. The wards had been weakened, as we were expecting guests for the wedding, their mother included. We had nothing left to fear. Our enemies were dead, and it was a day of hope and victory. It was a time to celebrate the union of the future Dark king and his soon-to-be queen.
But that never happened.
And honestly, I don’t think I want it to.
There may always be the dark stain of death on our relationship. I love Dorian with all my heart. But when will it end? When will we just be allowed to be?
And I wonder…will I be enough for him?
His family is dead. His faith is diminished. What more do we have to live for? What can I give him to make him whole again?
He looks at me with reverence and love, just as he always has, but I know the pain that’s twisting within him. I know the coldness of his soul. And I would give anything to fill that vacancy with warmth and love. I just don’t know if it’s possible.
We board a plane to Skiathos to pay our respects to the fallen prince and queen. I don’t remember the flight. I just keep staring out the window, praying that the heavens swallow me whole, leaving me exempt of any further suffering. I want to check out, but I can’t. I can’t leave Dorian to do this alone. I won’t let him go through this by himself.
So I squeeze his hand and let him pull me to rest against his chest. I let him breathe the crown of my head when his body grows weary. And the nights when grief makes the physical pain too much to bear, I let him make love to me. We both need it. It’s the only thing that doesn’t hurt.
I smile at Dorian as he brushes his lips across my knuckles. Since that day…he hasn’t stopped touching me, especially after he witnessed the pain of the Skotos brand rip through my back. So, now he loves me with such gentleness and care—as if I’ll break. He kisses me constantly, telling me how much he loves me—needs me. Telling me that no matter what, we’ll be together. Forever.
Forever.
That word no longer holds any weight for me. Because there is no such thing as forever. There is no eternity. Everything has its end, and what we have today may not be here tomorrow.
Niko taught me that.
I thought that beautiful man would live forever. I imagined my future with him in it, still the same brash bastard with a smile that would light up the night sky. And when I would act like a brat, he wouldn’t hesitate to give me a harsh, hefty dose of perspective. And I would love him for his honesty, because he got me. In some ways, he was me.
I recognized his secret sadness. I felt the longing in his heart like it was my own. His soul had been crying for far too long, and in the process, part of him went numb. The part that missed Amelie too much. The part that would never, ever get over her death.
I hated him for submitting to death, but I understood him. He’d always be a prisoner of that numbness. He’d never feel again without her. And as much as he tried to move on—as much as he willed his heart to open to someone else—it was already too late. He loved her with every part of himself. And death was the only way he could be whole again.
I’ll never know if Niko knew he would die that day. Maybe even on some level he suspected his demise would be a result of saving my life. But I know that I’ll carry him with me always. And he’ll be looking down at me, Amelie at his side, shaking his head as he laughs heartily at something crazy I’ve done. Or beaming with pride at his brother, as he leads their people with integrity and compassion. Or just smiling that dazzling smile that could eclipse the lights of Times Square. Just because.
You’re free now, Niko. You’ve finally found your peace. You don’t have to be alone anymore. You’ll never know pain again.
And, God, I envy that.
My life is a beautiful tragedy.
And I’m just waiting for the end.