I wasn’t surprised the next morning when Andrew came up and wrapped his arms around me in a firm hug.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered too low for Lila to hear.

It wasn’t an, “I’m sorry I was such a douche,” but an, “I’m sorry for what you went through.”

We pulled back, and I stared him in the eye and nodded. Andrew gave me a sad smile, then glanced to Lila.

“I won’t say anything.”

Lila didn’t understand, and her curiosity was getting the better of her. She knew more truth about what happened to me physically, but unlike Caroline and Drew, she didn’t know what I’d lost.

There was no longer animosity between us, which confused Lila to no end. The fire had died, and he accepted that Lila was mine. A friendship formed, and it was the first one I’d had in years. I’d forgotten what it was like to talk to someone who didn’t walk on eggshells around me.

I begged Lila to give me time, but I wasn’t sure there would ever be enough time to prepare me for that conversation.

Scandal hit the office a week later, and suddenly Lila and I were on edge again. The rumored relationship between two Holloway employees turned out to be true. The non-fraternization was so strict it even covered those working in two different departments that didn’t interact. For all anyone knew, they could have met at a bar and found out later they had the same employer.

It wasn’t the same for us. Our small office only seemed to shrink while the tension soared.

“Your birthday is coming up in a few weeks, right?” Lila asked one afternoon as I flipped through a file.

Every muscle froze as a barrage of images flew across my vision and a sudden flare of pain erupted in my chest.

“I don’t celebrate my birthday.”

I didn’t have to look at Lila or say another word. She didn’t ask any questions or even speak. Most people would verbalize their internal questions, but she silenced hers.

In fact, Lila barely asked questions about me, and only delved into my past when something brought it up. Like my Harvard T-shirt. We both knew all she had to do was Google my name and any questions she had would be answered, but she never did.

Which only made our situation volatile. She was waiting on me to open up, but it would never happen. I cared for her, but I didn’t think I could and would ever tell her. It was too deep, a hole I didn’t want to go near. Why would I jump into that kind of emptiness and drag her in with me?

Just the thought of my birthday sent the darkness crawling in like a fog.

The fog grew with each day, wrapped around me with each passing hour. Every day, it got thicker and darker. Lila had me so distracted that the date crept up on me, but the second she reminded me, albeit unintentionally, everything turned.

The anniversary was a blanket of oppression stifling each breath. With each day, the darkness closed in. My hands shook, anxiety buzzing through my veins.

It all leaked into my time with Lila. The only way to release the pressure and the pain was hard, rough fucking.

“Nate, you shouldn’t be doing that,” Grace said.

I quirked a brow at her and looked down at the game of chess before me.

“Why not?” I asked.

There was something eerie about all of it, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

“It’s dangerous.”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s just a game, Grace.”

“No. It’s not. You’re blind,” she said.

“I don’t understand.”

“Look, Nate.”

I stared down at the pieces on the board. Instead of the normal pieces, there were people. On the opposite side of the board were men dressed in dark suits. The king was familiar. A frightening familiarity. The queen beside him was a woman I knew well.

“Grace?” I picked up the piece and, sure enough, it was my wife.

The eyes popped open, and she looked surprised before she began screaming, but no sound came out. I set the piece back down, the dark eyes of Vincent Marconi looking back before lifting his arm, gun in hand, toward the other side of the board.

I was the king, and beside me was a broken and frail looking queen that was an unmistakable tiny version of Lila.

“What is going on?” I asked.

“It’s a choice.”

I scrunched my brow. “A choice? I thought it was a game.”

“Choices are moves in games. You chose to go left instead of right.”

The queen moved left, putting her in the intercepting path of Vincent’s gun.

“Each choice is an action and as such, has a reaction. We’re all pieces on a game board, but look at your side. There are no pawns left to protect you or your queen. One lonely rook, one beaten knight, are all you have left.”

“He destroyed it all,” I whispered.

“No, he didn’t. You did. And you will destroy her.”

“No.” I shook my head. “Never.”

“What about me, Nate? We were forever, and now we’re never. The only similarity is ever. Life isn’t guaranteed, but ever is always there. Ever is the catalyst for life and death. At any time, in any way.”

“I won’t. Lila will be fine.”

“Lila will be dead.”

“Don’t say that!” I screamed and grabbed her by the arms. “Don’t you ever fucking say that again. She will live, even if I have to die.”

She began to glow, morphing. Blue eyes turned a clear gray-green. I wanted to smile, kiss her, but red droplets began to cover her, and her eyes stared at me in a hauntingly familiar empty look.

“I’m already dead.”

Shaking woke me, and my eyes snapped open. I was out of the bed in seconds, my leg stiff from sleep causing me to stumble as I made my way to the bathroom. I leaned over the sink and turned on the cold water, splashing it on my face.

A dream. A fucking terror.

I felt Lila behind me, staring, but I couldn’t look at her. The image was too fresh, her body mangled and bloody, and I was to blame.

I heard her call, saw her reach out of the corner of my eye, but I couldn’t respond. I shied away from her, from her outstretched hand, and crawled back into bed.

The dream only called out my harsh reality and what being with me ultimately meant for her. It was something I ignored because for the first time in years, I felt some measure of happiness.