RPOV

I woke up feeling more comfortable than I had in a long time, and I couldn't quite figure out why. The sheets didn't feel any silkier, the mattress was no softer… It took my sluggish mind a long time to register the warmth of another body pressed against me, and the roughness of his fingers laced with mine.

The room was still dark, but the dryness in my mouth urged me to roll out of bed, and out of Dimitri's arms. I ignored the clothes we'd scattered on the floor, and tugged underwear, a pair of sweatpants and a tank top from the haphazard suitcase I still hadn't unpacked. Angry, uncomfortable emotions now swirled low in my belly, where only hours before Dimitri's touch had ignited flames.

How could I have done this?

I dressed quickly, and refused myself one last glance at Dimitri as I swept out of the room, taking care to close the door as quietly as I could.

DPOV

I'd watched her leave in the middle of the night like she was ashamed, and something inside of me had broken. Somehow, no matter the circumstances, I couldn't see last night as a mistake. I knew that it classified as cheating – for both of us. It was practically an affair. But it didn't feel like one.

I was up early enough to avoid my family, and in the predawn grey my mind was made up. I couldn't pretend that whatever was happening between us wasn't happening. I didn't want to. I had no idea how Rose felt about me, but some suspiciously familiar patterns of behaviour were emerging here. She wasn't anywhere in the house, which meant wherever she had gone last night, she hadn't come home.

Determined, I set out at a light jog.

There were a few things on my to-do list, and I forced myself to carry them out in chronological order. As much as I wanted to head for the gym, where I knew Rose would be working out her anger on any poor punching bag she could find, I needed to speak with Irena first.

My mind was consumed by the endless possibilities of my decisions, ranging from perfect happiness with Rose, to my impending death when I confessed everything to Irena. The run was considerably shorter than I'd expected, and as I hesitated outside Irena's front gate, I came up with a dozen reasons not to go inside.

It was early. What if she was still sleeping? What if this was a mistake? What if Rose didn't want me?

"Dimitri?"

Irena stood framed in the front door, one hand clutching a cup of coffee, the other holding her dressing gown closed tightly against the early morning chill.

"My mother said she thought she saw you out here." She laughed, inclining her head to indicate that I should come inside.

All of my reasons were scattered to the wind as I looked at her. It didn't matter if it was a mistake, or if Rose didn't want me.

And as kind, compassionate, and beautiful as Irena was, she didn't understand me. Yeva had been right all along – Irena had been there for me in a bad time, but I wasn't myself with her. I had been calm, and quiet, yet not at peace. I had felt, in my time with her, nothing but silence in my soul. And compared to the raging guiltiness that railed at me every other second, the silence had been preferable. It had almost seemed like healing. But then Rose had shown up, and sparked something inside me that I thought had been extinguished.

Sure, it felt like anger, and misery sometimes. But mostly it felt like amusement, and forgiveness, and like everything wasn't so bleak and heavy after all, because Rose was too amazing to sit idly by in this darkness without yelling, or making a scene. She had inspired me.

With Rose I felt alive. I felt like me.

Beyond all of that, ultimately Irena and I simply didn't have the chemistry that made being with Rose so thrilling. She couldn't look past all my defences, into my soul, and understand and forgive what she found there. Her smiles didn't exhilarate me, her touch didn't make my pulse race . She didn't make my heart pound, or set my blood on fire.

I struggled to find the words to tell her. "I need to say something."

I didn't love her.

RPOV

I'd been in the gym for hours – so long, that the sun had risen, filling the old room with golden light. I had worked past the guilt already, reasoning that there was nothing I could do now to take back what had happened. All I could do was wait until Adrian contacted me and confess everything. It would probably be the end of our relationship, but I knew that even if he never spoke to me again, I would be okay. I was always okay.

Eventually, I turned my thoughts to muddling through my emotions concerning Dimitri.

When Dimitri had told me he no longer loved me, it hadn't broken me. Yeah, it'd hurt like hell. For a little while, it had throbbed away somewhere deep inside of me, a constant reminder that I had lost something incredible. But eventually, after weeks without seeing him, or hearing his name, I'd moved on. I'd been truly happy with Adrian. The kind of happy I'd never expected to be after that day.

It reminded me of the words Abe had once condescendingly mused outside of the Belikov house over a year ago, something about first loves not being your last. I hadn't believed him. Then with Adrian, I thought I'd begun to understand those words more deeply - I was fine without Dimitri. I was happy, and whole, and myself. I was loved, and in love.

My mother's abandonment hadn't broken me. The Dragomir car accident hadn't broken me. Mason dying hadn't broken me. Dimitri leaving hadn't broken me. I was stronger than everything that life - and death, for that matter – had ever thrown at me.

So I knew, as I knelt in the gym, wheezing from my workout, that if I got up and packed my bags right now - if I left Dimitri lying in that bed and I never looked back - I would still be unbroken. If I left, my memories of his smile, and scent, his beautiful laughter and that sharp flash of fire in his gorgeous eyes would fade. One day, I wouldn't remember what it was like to feel his lips on mine, or his arms fast around my waist. I would live, and love again, and look on those memories with nostalgic fondness.

But I also knew that if I left, I would be leaving something indescribable behind. Yes, I would survive. Life would go on. But I was selfish, and the idea of leaving, no matter how right it might be, no matter how "okay" I would be afterwards, made my heart pound so painfully in my chest that I fought with every breath not to think about it.

Regardless of everyone else - Adrian, Mason, Lissa, the Court, the Academy... I wanted to love him. I wanted to be free to love him, for the rest of my life. And I almost didn't care who I had to hurt to get him.