heart pounded in her chest, growing in strength and power after every single beat, chest feeling like it was about to explode outwards, that skin was going to fly everywhere and coat ethan with the regret of leaving her behind. would she have to act out a physical rendition of her mental turpitude for him to understand that what he was doing to her was torturous? that, similarly, every painful word he threw at her attacked her shoulder, where he had swapped the roles of the duo and had failed at axe murder? maybe pain was only visible to him if it was bloody, and gory, and sickening to stare at.

her lips parted, breathing tight and squeezing her uncomfortably, because it was trapped once more in her chest. it only felt the same as her hatred— like it was going to collapse in on her, and ethan would be faced with her corpse. not an immortal soul that stretched her skin apart and stepped inside, but a true human being who could feel emotions like hurt, anger … guilt.

mia couldn’t stop feeling guilty about her involvement in the connections, the massacre of the annabelle and the crimes of the baker family that she should have been able to prevent. she should have wrote faster, scribbled the words down swiftly, or phrased her sentences better— she should have warned them before eveline got to them.

in her mind, she dashed for his throat, tore him apart, became the person she didn’t want to be because her willpower had deteriorated once more. she refused to carry out those thoughts in reality, though. because what good would that do? rose still needed her help— and would she really trust her mother if she decided to kill her father? that wouldn’t be a problem at her age now, but she would soon grow up. she would remember.

❝ i did that to protect you! ❞ voice raised, nails drew blood, dripped onto the pristine snow. ❝ i told you to stay away. you didn’t listen to me. but, you’ve never appreciated anything i’ve done for you, ethan. not even before dulvey. not even after i kept us safe after everything that happened. ❞ she had risked her life, revealing all the secrets of the connections to the BSAA, barely told ethan a thing. he didn’t need to know.

❝ i wish you’d change, ethan. for your own benefit. ❞ fingers relaxed subconsciously, and she finally felt control over her own body again, even though there was still that faint giggling in the back of her mind, which she managed to lock away. temporarily. ❝ i hope you’re happy. ❞ she finally spat out.

mia hated keeping secrets from ethan, but it was common for her now. so common that it didn’t bother her as much as it used to, so common that her heartstrings would no longer melt from his gentle, continued touch. of course, it still stung, still pricked delicately at the humanity left in her soul, but she came to an easy conclusion every time: she had to complete her mission.

she had to finish what they started. do what she agreed to.

her poker face had a stark difference to ethan’s non existent one, and she held it, for a moment, before her blood heated up uncomfortably below her mask and her expression contorted; a mixture of frustration and impatience covering her face.

mia’s hand goes limp to allow ethan to continue peppering the skin with his lips, his sweet kisses that should have made her heart soar.

❝ ethan … ❞ mia sighed, and she eventually dropped the spoon she still had a grip on, letting it hit the plate. she stood slightly, hooking her fingers under the chair and pulling it along with her. the wood scratched uncomfortably against the floor, but she had soon taken her place next to ethan.

her other hand raised, hand resting against his face, barely holding it. she took the opportunity to lean forward, peck his cheek, and lean back.

❝ i know you want me to stay. ❞ mia mumbled. ❝ so you’re making all of these … excuses … ❞ she paused, wanting to be stern but not cruel.

she could only word it in the one way.

❝ i have to do this. ❞

her breath shook, feelings of hatred and melancholy churning inside her stomach, bombarding her guts yet impacting her outside appearance very little. those emotions did not represent how she felt for her husband. no, of course they didn’t. they only made an appearance to show how she felt about herself. she had to endure these feelings with no outlet, no shoulder to cry on, no person to share the burden with but herself. she should’ve left sooner, maybe in the dead of night, accompanied with a handwritten letter to ethan that was inevitably stained with her tears.

was it wrong of her to be selfish, for once in her life? abandon the instructions of her employers and create a new identity for herself, write her own fairytale with her own happy ending?

eyebrow twitched, eyes salty and closed as lips met her own, and mia could taste the wine against her mouth. would it hurt for him to pass his inebriation to her instead? so she could enjoy their last dinner, the love that sunk to the bottom of the ocean and lacked a brave adventurer to go and discover it?

how could she continue arguing against him?

❝ you make it so hard for me to leave every time. but you know that … ❞ her lips only moved to speak, not reciprocate. which loss of action would break his heart more? ❝ i come back. always. ❞

❝ you don’t need to explain anything to me, ethan. whether you remember or not… all that matters is that you’re here. here with me and rose. ❞ alive, she thought, but didn’t dare mutter out the word. in a way, she felt like actually acknowledging his survival would somehow remove the blessing that had been granted, like simply suggesting his revival would lead to his destruction. she never expected this— had been given the confirmation multiple times that he was dead. but that wasn’t true, and now mia had to decide whether it would be best to escape from the past or embrace it. but she could not embrace such memories as happily as she had done with her husband.

she allowed him to take their daughter, the one who had also been through so much during their stay in romania. ethan was the one who went through hell to find the child. of course he deserved to hold her, cherish her, love her in a way that proved his selflessness, the sacrifices he made. it made her guilty, in a way; the fact that she had been trapped in one space when she could’ve made more of an effort to escape, to leave the confinement mother miranda pushed her into.

the conclusion was swiftly made: ethan deserved rose more than mia did. she did everything she could, but it wasn’t enough. was that why mia felt so torn? was that why she could not regulate her feelings properly?

❝ you… ❞ she wasn’t sure how to phrase her sentence, how to let him know that he looked so healthy. of course, there was inevitable exhaustion in his eyes, yet… there was some sort of aura surrounding him that made mia believe he was truly well. ❝ oh baby… i’m so glad you’re here. ❞

all mia could hear was the distant ticking of a clock, the large one that she had encountered multiple times, whispering phrases she had dreamt continuously: ‘you’re too late’. it ricocheted through her mind, running rampant through the organ, did not let her forget what she did wrong in her life. she knew she could not escape her mistakes, she knew she had to repent for her sins… but this was too much. had she not already endured the suffering needed to balance out all of the bad things she did? or was the universe set on putting her through hell once more?

she could not stop running. she did not want to stop running, not with the contorted version of those she cared for chasing after her. mia was not sure who had been bundled together; she only recognised their defining features. it was her worst nightmare, and she was living it.

mia was terrified.

her breathing was heavy, too heavy, as she ran around the corner of the house, propelled herself forward with the ripped wallpaper. but then, the footsteps stopped. the groaning and screaming from behind her ceased, and mia finally found herself relaxing. she knew it would not last long. in fact, she was ready to start running again instantly, but something was different. as if the air in the basement had shifted, distorted to suit the hands of another.

mia removed her hand from the wall, took a step forward. the floorboard groaned, similar to the primal sounds she had listened to for so long, began advancing in the only direction she could go.

was someone talking to themselves?

her hand curled into a fist, as if ready to face the antagonist that had rendered her vulnerable inside the basement, but open glancing through the gap of the slightly ajar door, the truth was revealed to her.

mia could not help grasping at the past, reaching to memories she should not be reaching to, skin against skin reminding her of those times that she should’ve been there, but was not. reminding her of those times where she had fed him lies, lies to protect him, but, nonetheless, still lies. she should have learnt her lesson, turned back against her inevitable destiny and refrained from whispering a melody into his ear. why did she always long to shield him from the truth? build walls of roses and passion to defend him? she did not have that right. not anymore— he was the one who was supposed to defend himself from the things that he deemed dangerous.

mia could not imagine what ethan had gone through because of her deceit. had he met the doors of heaven? perhaps he believed he was in heaven now— after all, this was an ideal ending— one that was only printed in storybooks and tales of princesses and princes. this was not a fantasy. but, in a way, it felt like it. with all of the witchcraft and narratives of immortality, perhaps fate had been kind to them and granted them their happy ending.

❝ rose is okay. i’m okay. baby, we’re okay. ❞ she repeated her words with sweetness coating her lips, pressing dear rosemary into his body, letting him know that his daughter was alive. physical touch must have been a mercy, because would he believe that they were real if that was not the case? mia would not have been able to prove it with the truth, like they did in the movies, listing off memories that only the two involved would know. ❝ it’s all over now. i promise. ❞ her voice lowered to a whisper, eyes fixed on her husband. ❝ i know that what you remember is horrible. but… honestly… there’s no reason to worry now. ❞

mia deserved to be mad. deserved to be angry. she should have done worse, thrown words of glass and pierced his heart, reject the love that he claimed to have with weapons rather than gentle pushes. was it not the same as before? when he wandered into the vicinity of the baker house and she tried to pry him out of the nightmare? pushed him towards a greater destiny than remaining with her? when that didn’t work, did she not take the opportunity to pick up items of destruction and pain to forcefully remove him from the house, despite his incessant protests? that was why she loved him, why she slid on her silver band once more, cloaked herself in a veil, sealed herself into the inevitable tragedy.

every word that escaped his mouth, pleas of devotion, pleas of knowledge … it meant nothing to her. she had tormented herself enough with bringing ethan back into her arms. she could no longer indulge in fantasy, had to live in a reality where she was both victim and villain of the story. she knew she did not harbour the fault on her own, and it was shared with a wider audience, but her eyes had turned dull with pessimism, no longer full of hope. mia could not believe him, could not believe herself, and instead was placed on the forefront of a chasm, waiting patiently to become lost.

❝ i don’t want you to apologise. ❞ she sighed, brought her hands together after ethan had finally released her. had he given her his blessing? so that she could move on? of course, she would’ve expected something similar to have happened once he had created a bond with the other man, expected that to be a sign she could leave. but it was her heart that could not let go. perhaps this was an indication she could leave. but, if that was the case, mia was not leaving without her daughter.

❝ i know you’re sorry. i know you’re confused. i know that the BSAA lied to you about a lot of things because there was no room for such information to be given to a wider range of people. ❞ she spoke mechanically, unlike she had ever spoken to him before. ❝ i know too much, ethan. things that you want me to know and things that you don’t want me to know. ❞ she paused, slid her hands over one another, interlaced her own fingers, felt the bump of her knuckle. ❝ but what i don’t know— what i don’t get— is why you would betray not only me, but your daughter. ❞