The Decision

by ClubLulu333

After he learns of Jeanine's plans for him, Eric chooses to transfer anywhere but Dauntless. When he picks Amity to spite his family, he finds himself in a world unlike anything he's ever known before. Will he be able to adjust to his new life, or will Jeanine find a way to make her demands come true? Eric x Everly, Frank x Tris

16. Chapter 16

Thank you so so so much to Bamberlee for editing.

So sorry for the late Sunday update. I had a ton going on today and zero down time. Also, there is only one chapter of this story left. I'll either add the epilogue to the next chapter, or as a separate one depending on the length.

Thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter.

Have a good week!

---

There are five ways to kill a person.

The first is with nothing but your hands. It's taught to the initiates not long after they arrive, and this discovery often takes them by surprise. Their former factions are stripped away with this knowledge, and like a phoenix rising from the ashes, soldiers are born. True, pure, brutal Dauntless soldiers meant to protect the factions by any means necessary.

Days into initiation, they are shown how to fight. Stances are tweaked, muscle is built and bulked, and the fight or flight reaction is trained and retrained until it's an automatic response in their favor. They are trained to ignore emotion, to react by logic, to harness the soldier within.

Most are remarkably successful.

They are taught to destroy, to take down their opponent systematically, weakening them until the final blow can be administered. They are taught there is no second chance. Every move counts, every punch and kick, every block and grapple. You either fight until you win, or you crawl away a loser, bleeding and weeping before you take your last breath.

It was under my rule that they fought until they reached this point.

Four insisted there was no real reason to make them fight to the near death, but I thought otherwise. They needed to feel the blood pumping rage taking someone's life brought, but also the triumphant high which followed. It was sweeter than anything, glory over all, satisfying and alluring, and unfortunately, addicting.

I watched a few blink back their newfound lust for violence as though they could control it; they peeled themselves away from a pile of bones and skin pleading for their life, and they knew all it would take was another punch to end things. They had won, an accomplishment their foe would never get to reach.

In Dauntless, victory always won out, especially when it was by one's own force.

The second and third manner of killing someone is with a weapon.

By the time an initiate is capable of taking someone's life with their own hands, they are offered key advantages to further their odds of coming out on top. It's taught under the guise of protection. They are handed a gun –cold steel and bullets primed for only one purpose –or knives sharpened with the intent to hurt. In my mind, I separated these two because a gun is easy. Stand, aim, shoot. Your odds of hitting someone were decent, and more often than not, they backed down out of fear and would die without much of a struggle.

The knives were a thrill and should have told the initiates what they were in for: survival, but only our own. While Four found the knives to be archaic and outdated, I had some appreciation for the skill. Stabbing someone or slicing their skin, whether it be on purpose or accident, is hard. It's raw. Feral. Wild and dangerous because you have to be in close proximity to attack. You couldn't stab someone from far away. You had to get close, you had to be smart, and you rarely got a second chance.

A gun made the cowardly brave, but a knife made the brave clever.

The fourth way to take a life wasn't anything to write home about, but sometimes, fate intervened. Accidents happened all the time, and it wasn't at all uncommon to lose an initiate to the dark water of the chasm or have them drop from rain slicked train tracks. Sometimes, it was something darker. Something inside them. Something that whispered they were weak and screamed there was no point in continuing. Sometimes it was stupidity. A little too much ego, not enough common sense. All it took was a little nudge, or maybe the forceful push of a dare, and your opponent was gone, vanished in the blink of an eye, like they never existed. Sometimes you got lucky –they'd slip or fall or hit their head, and the violence couldn't be pinned on anyone. It wasn't as fulfilling as using your hands or as thrilling as firing a rifle, but it worked.

Mistakes were acceptable, so long as they worked in our favor.

The last way, fifth but most certainly not least, and definitely the most challenging way to kill someone, is to let them be their own downfall.

This didn't apply to factionless encountered on patrols or sparring an opponent while Four watched, nor was it limited to battle strategy or a hastily drawn out battle plan. This method of destroying someone was purposeful. It was outsmarting your opponent in a way that would lend them to self-destruct. It was blameless; it took finesse and skill, and a mind which worked faster than theirs.

It was me choosing Amity and Daniel's decision to support me. Everly's acceptance of me. The Amity faction welcoming me into their fold and refusing to let go even though my intentions might not be pure. It was ruined plans and betrayed alliances. Feelings of rage from a woman who couldn't do anything more than watch and smile placidly, because her public image hinged on her leading not just an entire faction, but the idea of what each faction should believe.

I side stepped Jeanine's plans knowing she couldn't really do much to stop me, and for a little while, I had won.

Until she figured out her next move.

It was a game to her; two steps ahead, one step back, until she had the upper hand. It had killed her to have me in a faction where she had no power, and it had killed me to be ripped away from Everly and used as a mindless drone. Each of us suffered several small deaths during this time, and we were each determined to make the other pay.

She knew it wouldn't end well for her.

That's why I was drugged and kept in the dark, and that's why someone else always did her dirty work. No one knew what really went on in Erudite. Scientists spending their days in the labs, seeking out answers for questions no one asked. Not many would ever think Erudite held dark secrets, far worse than guns or knives, or an army trained to kill rather than protect. No one ever thought about what happened if their serums got in the wrong hands, or who was watching to make sure this didn't happen or questioned why they were being made. There would have been some moral outrage over what went on behind closed doors, and it's intended purpose.

But even with labs and experiments and serums that would squeeze the very life out of you, Erudite could be outsmarted. All it took was an unassuming faction, a loyalty not created in a lab or by forceful peer pressure, and fear.

Fear was the best motivator of all.

It was the easiest way to kill a person because it was all consuming. Those who could create fear were unstoppable. It was why Dauntless trained its soldiers to overcome their fears, trying to make them as brave and free as possible, and those who couldn't were kicked out. It was why Jeanine provided ample amounts of serums for the fear landscapes and encouraged the soldiers to fear nothing.

She knows how powerful it is to be afraid.

I see all this on the man's face by the woods when I step outside the stables. I had stalked through the large, heavy doors ready to find Blythe and wrap my hands around her throat until she could never speak my name again, when I saw him.

Long brown hair, glittering with snow and tangled with the wind, just watching me. His lips are parted, his eyes are wide, and his panic vibrates in waves, like he just saw a ghost and he knows it's coming for him.

When he steps back, disappearing into the woods, I know he is afraid, and he should be.

I don't know who he is, but it's clear he knows me, and I have reason to want him dead.

---

"Do you like it?"

I stare down at Everly, a small girl in a large house, and her words give me a shiver of déjà vu. I welcome it. With each second that passes, I find myself more desperate to remember her. It's a rotten feeling to know there was a shared life together, here in Amity, right in front of me, and I'm stuck trying to force the pieces into making sense any way I can.

It's another strange realization to discover I like her. Even though it's been less than an hour, I'm drawn to her in a way I don't recognize. My brain tries to make sense of this through a haze of serum induced confusion –each serum fighting to win out—and the events I've been told as truth: before me is someone I was once close to, I liked her enough to marry her, and I had actual feelings for her. Feelings stronger than a physical attraction or lusty desire, feelings I acted upon, and the two of us were happy here.

Then my mother stepped in and ruined it all.

While Jeanine encouraged her.

"You live here alone?" I blink at the stairs leading to the second story, the high railings and beams –less wood and more metal –and there's a hint of sophistication I'm not expecting. The home is something more along the lines of Erudite; plenty of sleek lines, glass panes, heavy counters, and space. Too much space for one person, and far unlike the rambling farmhouses set up for a life of hard work and endless children. "It's just you?"

She blinks back.

Our reunion feels like a dream.

When I finally broke away from her, there was a sense of relief I'd never felt before. It was a connection I couldn't explain, but it was good. I knew without question that Everly and I had something which couldn't be duplicated, and no one could ever take her place. If Blythe was able to get me to marry Ashley, it wouldn't work. It would never live up to what I felt for this girl, still staring up at me like she couldn't believe her eyes, and it would never last.

I'd reached for Everly the second we were apart, afraid Johanna would tell her to leave me alone. I didn't remember meeting Johanna either, and the few times I'd ever spoken with her were tense. Once was over a video conference, once was on the phone. There was no hiding the tension in her voice or her hurry to end our meeting.

Even then, as she walked over to us slowly, there was apprehension.

I reached for Everly, pulling her back against my side, failing to think that perhaps Everly had a point. It wouldn't be long before someone figured out I wasn't in Dauntless. My phone was traceable. The truck was parked out front. Blythe and Jeanine were aware of some unease from me, and my absence would become suspicious.

I didn't give a shit.

I shook my head at Rylan, and beside him, Johanna relaxed enough to say hello.

A few minutes later, I learned my meeting Everly was pure chance. She was only in the stables out of sheer dumb luck. Johanna didn't appear surprised to see her, but she did frown at her outfit. The nightgown or dress or whatever Everly had on was thin and flimsy, and she frowned back when Johanna gave us a warning about the storm. Her words hinted it was unlikely to let up, and it would be a safer option for us to not walk out in it.

We did.

Everly thanked her, refused to sleep in the barn, and told her she'd see her in a few days. Rylan left too. He ran ahead of us, sprinting out into a dark, snowy wasteland, yelling Courtney's name at the top of his lungs. He yelled he was coming and to be ready because he wasn't leaving. He was so frantic he missed the man watching from the woods and the few lone members of Amity trying to get home before the storm became too much.

There was more than a hint of desperation to Rylan, but it wasn't unbecoming or unfathomable. Months in Dauntless had to have felt oppressive, especially knowing what was going on, and being unable to do a single thing about it. He yelled back for us to have fun, and he'd see me in a week.

I followed Everly willingly, letting her lead the way. It went unspoken I would go along with her, and we would stay until things made sense, or I remembered her.

"Were you expecting someone else?" Everly tilts her head up at me, nothing but tumbling, wavy hair that mirrors my own when it's not shaved and slicked, and too much fabric. The sweater is worn and gray, and the boots have been kicked off and left by the door. She'd shivered a few times, keeping her arm looped through mine and her head down, and the two of us had walked quickly. I had the feeling she'd slip, but ten grueling minutes later, we arrived in a part of Amity I didn't know existed.

Well, I didn't really know much of Amity past the faint knowledge of where it was located. But this section was different; nicer, sleeker, a little more exclusive and not so open.

It took another five minutes to walk up the steep pathway, all while wondering if I should remember this.

"We don't… it was just you and me. I guess…you left before anything could happen." Everly's eyes lock on mine, unblinking and hurt. She's not at all hesitant or afraid of me, but there's a sea of agony in them, perhaps at what could have been, and the words she speaks tell me my life would have been very different had Blythe not interfered. "That's probably for the best."

"How old are you?"

I blurt out my question without thinking, and I kick myself when she blinks back at me with a hint of amusement. I know how old she is. According to the records I'd found, she's a single year younger than me, but in person, she looks far younger. Maybe it's the oversized nightgown or how tall she isn't, but I have the strangest feeling I need to ask her all sorts of questions, as if it might trigger something.

"Twenty," she answers, dryly. "How old are you now, Eric? Thirty? Does the serum make you age faster?"

"How do you know about the serum?" There's a wild moment when Everly shrugs, and I'm once again, a thousand steps behind. The thought that a small girl from Amity seems to know more than me makes me grit my teeth together. The thought that I could have left her here, pregnant, makes me nauseous. "Everly?"

"Did that hurt?" She steps up onto the first step of the stairs, and she's still nowhere near my height. Her eyes go to my throat, and I can feel her stare lingering over the blocks there with a possessiveness I can understand. When I don't answer, she reaches out her hand and very carefully undoes the top of my jacket. She peels it back to further expose the columns on my throat, and her lips part. "Harrison told me…he told me what they were doing to you and why. Why he couldn't tell you or get you out of there."

"He did?"

"He tried." Cold fingers touch my skin, and I jerk back, steeling myself. It's not that I don't want her touching me; everything in me aches to remember her hands on me, but for now, the feeling is foreign. No one dared touch me in Dauntless, especially not like this. "He had this plan to take down Jeanine, but things got complicated when she threatened him. She only agreed to leave us alone if we didn't tell anyone what was going on. Or come get you. She disliked that option the most. She knew we'd try."

"Did you?" I stare intently, and her fingers press on the dark tattoo. I try to imagine her coming to Dauntless, dressed just like she is now. "Did you try to come get me?"

"Once," she smiles, pleased with herself, but it falters. "I went with Forrest. There was a problem with the generators or something, so it was quick. They didn't let us stay long and I didn't see anyone I knew. I was hoping to see Rylan or Jason…"

"You know them?" I close the distance between us, and her fingers creep up and around the back of my neck. She pulls me closer, and for the first time in years, I let someone dictate what I'm doing. I bend my head down, and it dawns on me they know her, or perhaps have kept an eye on her, and I am the odd one out here. "They said they came to visit me during initiation and –"

"I know Rylan pretty well. He's been working on a plan to move here all this time. Jason, too. They stop by whenever they can, and they always try to make it so it won't look suspicious." Everly rises up on her toes, and her nails scrape against my scalp. "They made sure you were okay. Or as okay as you could be. They'd keep me updated with whatever you were doing."

"None of them told me," I snap, but it's not meant at her. "My closest friends didn't have the balls to tell me what was going on. I should…I should…."

I pause, and there is no word to accurately describe my fury over the situation. Being taken away from the girl I'd married, being drugged every few months to stay silent, living each day by the agenda of someone using me for her own benefit, was too much. I could have understood the pressure of Jeanine wanting me on her side but following through with such a plan –the way she did –was unfathomable.

"They couldn't tell you. A few months ago, Rylan tried. He said he worked up the nerve to tell you not to get the shot and he was going to bring you here. He couldn't because Jeanine showed up and threatened his mom and she started to follow through with it. It's like she knew he was here, or when he was starting to get tired of keeping her lies." Everly swallows, and the despair in her voice is exactly what I feel. "His mom got really sick for a few weeks and Rylan knew it was because of Jeanine. So he stopped. Everyone's kept quiet. But I won't. Not anymore."

I nod, and my stomach burns.

Two years of my life, gone, because of Jeanine and Blythe.

Two years away from Everly, away from the only person who ever brought me a speck of happiness, thanks to a few injections.

When Everly's lips touch mine, this time on her terms –still cold and soft –and her fingers slip higher, coaxing me over to her, I remember a lot of things.

I remember choosing her, over and over because I wanted to be happy, and I was. I had been happy here, and it was a feeling far stronger than anything I'd ever felt before.

And now, I'm desperate to feel it again.

Which is why I kiss her back, my teeth hitting hers and my fingers roughly tearing through her hair, until she breaks away slowly, and coaxes me upstairs.

---

"Fuck."

I blurt this out loud, while no one but me is awake. The night is dark and full of things I should remember, and I swear again, wishing all the vengeance and ill will I conjure upon my mother. In fact, I summon up a few dark memories of her –fleeting flashes of disdain laden looks, sharp heels clacking down marble stairs as she flitted through the house, declaring all of us an inconvenience in her day, a smile that never once felt real, not even when she introduced me to her colleagues, or ushered me into a crowd to disappear, because it was easier to deal with my absence than my presence. I sneer at the memory of our most recent dinner, and her insistence that I marry a girl I have no interest in, because it would benefit Blythe.

In the dark, these things hurt, because Everly is none of them.

She isn't impatience or annoyance, nor is she anger –though I know she's spent two years being furious over what Blythe has done.

She is, however, warm.

Soft and small, a little too sharp where her elbow hits my stomach and too chilly where her feet press against my shins. There's a possessiveness to the way her back touches my chest, her fingers seek out mine, and she curls them tightly between her own. She pulled them inward, closer to her chest, and the action was followed by a heavy sigh.

If Blythe was sharp and collected, Everly was a quiet mess of appropriate emotions. She sunk against me like she knew me, but her shoulders bowed in like she didn't. Her body fit mine, but her head fell forward, and there was an air of disbelief hidden in her posture.

I shared these sentiments.

I was convinced when I woke up she'd be gone; pulled back into my brain like every other memory I shouldn't have. Lying in bed beside her felt foreign, but my body screamed it wasn't. I felt like I could remember everything if I tried hard enough, then a moment later, that feeling was gone.

The hold I had on this felt razor thin. I was waiting to come back down to reality, one where Rylan and I were in Dauntless, and my nights were endless dreams which made no sense. I was waiting for darkness. For cold, encouraged violence and arguments settled by my hands. I wasn't sure any of this was totally real, especially not the way I pushed myself closer, kicking heavy stiff sheets out of my way so I could pull Everly back tighter, refusing to let go.

I didn't know her, but I didn't have to to know I belonged beside her.

There was something very easy about the way she existed, about the way she willingly accepted who I was, and I longed to rejoin this world. It was a strange realization to have, and it made me feel exposed, like I was cracked wide open.

Now, I blink as she shifts, dark hair obscuring my vision and touching my chest, and I try to think logically. The rationale of the situation would no doubt leave me feeling strange. Less than twenty-four hours ago, my whole world was thrown upside down. My life was a lie, a carefully arranged façade meant to benefit everyone but me.

I was existing in a faction I didn't choose, nor did I really belong in.

Had I truly chosen Dauntless, the bloodlust to find Divergents, to inject a serum which induced horrific fears, and to rule by intimidation would have been stronger. It would have been inescapable. A large part of being fearless was pulling the fear out of others and showing them what they were made of. For two years, I'd watched with an unimpressed sneer as Four guided initiates into becoming members. I'd watched him struggle as the strong ones broke, the strongest ones survived and he pretended it didn't matter when the rest were kicked out. I watched some of the best become exiled over a single misstep, and some of the worst make it because they could play the game.

Had I really wanted to live in Dauntless, this would have appealed to me. The psychological thrill of knowing what could push someone to their breaking point combined with the physical challenges would have been something I enjoyed. The rush of power, the excitement of knowing I was feared, the ability to control every aspect of my life.

It all paled in comparison to this: a large bed, clean sheets, a fire roaring in the fireplace, and my wife, holding onto my hand while she slept against my chest.

She had zero hesitation about insisting I sleep beside her, and there was an unspoken demand I stay here. I pull her closer, breathing in the sweet smell of her hair and her warm body, and she shifts in her sleep, refusing to let go of me. Every so often, she mumbles something that sounds like my name, and my chest burns at the thought of her being here alone for all this time.

Before we'd gone to bed, I had the weirdest feeling she didn't like the storm. I couldn't figure out why. It snowed all winter, but it seemed like she was scared, and the feeling only lessened when she was sure I was in bed with her.

"What the fuck do I do now?"

I mutter to no one, certainly not Everly, and no one answers me.

Which is fine.

The last thing I could handle is to learn Everly lived in a haunted house.

Eventually, I fall asleep as the snow slams into the sides of the house, so ferociously I think the windows might break, and the night is so dark I think perhaps it's darker than the most hidden alcove in Dauntless.

---

"Fuck."

In the morning, I riffle through the shirts, still desperate to find something that proved I wasn't being lied to. Everly had said she'd kept my things, like she had no doubt I'd be back, and the separation was merely an inconvenience she was fine working through.

She wasn't lying.

The closet is full of clothes, and some are presumably mine. The ones in the middle are varying shades of plaid, reds, some deep greens, a few dark blues, and several black ones. There are black t-shirts, a few white t-shirts, and a handful of jackets, coats, and sweaters, all in my size.

I grab a button-down shirt without looking. I try to ignore Forrest's name on this one, too. The material is worn and soft, borrowed but taken care of, and hardly warm enough for the storm raging outside.

I grab pants, a pair of boots in my size, and I close my eyes tightly, unable to shut the heavy doors.

I know they are mine because some of the shirts have Eric written on the tag in the same handwriting as Forrest's name. The ink bleeds through the tags, like he'd written my name because permanence was important and so was my time in Dauntless. He was documenting my existence, and he knew I wouldn't believe anyone simply telling me what was going on. I had to see it.

I do.

The shirts are all my size, though most are noticeably newer and unworn, and all sit between Everly's collection of dresses.

They are as soft and pretty as she is, carefully pressing against my shirts from both sides, like she needed to protect them.

---

"Will you help me?"

Everly is all of five feet tall.

I stand behind her, her head touching the lower part of my chest and her feet bare, and I watch with some amusement as she rises up on her toes and fumbles to reach a shelf. She leans back for a split second, resting against me, then gestures to the bowl just out of her grasp.

"I can't reach it. I asked Ian not to put everything up so high, but he's really tall and I don't think he understood what I meant. He was just trying to help. They come over every Friday." She's unfazed by how tense I am, and when she turns, she's startling pretty. "Eric?"

"Sure."

I easily grab a large glass bowl, deep blue and heavy, and I know it's from Daniel. My frown is immediate. My trust in him isn't exactly concrete, and there's a hint of lingering unease when I think about him.

"Your dad gave it to me on my last birthday. He brought me a whole bunch of stuff to cook with. He said his wife likes to bake but they both work a lot." She pauses, turning around completely so her back is against the counter. "Do you…have you talked to Camille?"

"No," I answer sharply, watching Everly's expression tense. "I'm assuming you do. Blythe told me how they had an affair and how he refused to help. I know it's not true, but…I didn't know she was his wife."

"He didn't have an affair. He divorced Blythe before our wedding," Everly responds tersely, and her defense of him feels like a betrayal I don't understand. "He's a good man. He's…he tried really hard to find a way to get you back. Everyone did."

"No, he didn't." I shake my head, and I set the bowl on the counter, ignoring Everly's insistent stare. It's obvious my father has made an effort to get to know her in my absence. I freeze when Everly narrows her eyes at me, and she reaches for my arm. "What? Am I wrong?"

"Yes, yes you are." Tiny fingers curl around the darkest shirt I could find. Wearing black felt wrong, but so did the red plaid. "We all tried. Every person here. Even…even Jake and Ryan went and asked for you. Howard, too. He and Carole botched a few deliveries on purpose and asked for a representative to come here in hopes they'd send you. Harrison gave us updates on everything you were doing. Your dad –"

"What did he do? Write an article about how great his research is? Enjoy his time with Camille?"

"He created the antidote and gave it only to Arlene. The one Jeanine has is fake," Everly whispers, and she pulls me closer to her. The large windows of the kitchen are framed with red curtains, and the outside world is nothing but dark and snow. "She'll kill him if she finds out."

"I'm going to kill her."

Everly's eyes widen, not with horror, but like she's been waiting for this moment.

"For what she did. I never chose Dauntless and I never agreed to hunt anyone down. I never agreed to leave you." I stare at her, and I forget about the bowl and Daniel and their relationship as father and daughter-in-law. "Everly…"

"Do you remember?" She asks, desperate and pleading, and her hope is dashed when I shake my head.

"I don't need to."

I take her face in my hands, and there is a fleeting vision of her against different cabinets, dressed in black, kissing me while her arms were around my neck. I can so clearly see the moment like it happened, faint and in another world, then a second vision, one of her here. Undressed, her legs around my waist, while she whispered she loved me.

The air was clear and crisp, the curtains were drawn, and the only difference was I knew she was my wife and my only plans involved her.

I kissed her here then as well as now, but this time, I'm desperate to force myself to remember, and ultimately fail miserably.

It doesn't matter.

She kisses me back, her hands sliding into my hair and curling in, and her plans for baking cookies are completely abandoned. I kiss her until the oven dings, until her breathing is erratic and uneven, until her cheeks are flushed, and my own blood is pumping so furiously it rings in my ears.

---

"Fuck."

The blizzard waxes and wanes. For a few hours, it spits snow like it's mad at us. Then it lets up, and while the wind rages on, there's some respite. Those brief moments are intense: the storm has painted the world the color of ghosts; white drips from the window frame, whips through the wind, and is stark beneath Everly's hair and pale limbs. During the last two years, she's haunted me for reasons I couldn't explain. Each night she hovered just beyond recognition. I saw her more vividly when the serum wore off, and then as a kaleidoscope of memories when the serum was injected.

Much like the storm, she is all consuming.

After a night of sleeping beside her, I was now consumed with the idea of knowing her on every level. My brain taunted me with lucid images of her dressed and undressed, and I had to force myself to look away while she made lunch. I pretended I wasn't thinking about shoving her against the kitchen cabinets or pulling the hideous sweater off of her. When she made me dinner, spaghetti and meatballs served on a plate with an odd crack in it, she smiled knowingly, and I knew I wouldn't last very long.

My self-control was slipping right along with feeling like I'd never remember her.

I told myself I had to remember her. I would remember her. The serum was taking its time, perhaps working to undo years of what Jeanine had done. I had to be patient, something I also was not, and I had to know things would work out in my favor.

Optimism was never something I was great at, but I had little choice these days.

I went to bed with the best of intentions. I took off the heavy jacket I'd thrown on –the black one from Dauntless instead of one from the closet –and Everly pried it from my hands. It wasn't so much that I was attached to it, and it didn't offer any sort of protection. It felt like ripping away the last inch of a nightmare, and there was a moment of physical hurt. For someone whose memories were a blur of reality and alternate reality, the jacket was the only tangible proof of what I knew.

After a few seconds, Everly tossed it aside with a frown and reached for the dark undershirt.

The rest was quick.

Too quick.

Too different.

Too real.

Everything in me screamed to go along with it, but I'd been conditioned to trust no one. She didn't back down, though. Everly stood watching, dressed to share a bed with me, and her intentions were clear. Her husband had returned to find her, and she was done pretending he didn't exist.

She also understood me, perhaps better than I knew myself.

When I muttered I needed a second, she pointed to the large door, and minutes later, I took a shower in a large bathroom, beneath a spray of water hot enough to burn my skin. The feeling was good; burning and real, like it might eat at the last few remaining hints of serum beneath my skin. I relished this thought, letting it play in my head over and over, until I convinced myself it was working.

It felt like it was working. While I washed my hair, I remembered every single creak and groan of the house. The shower was familiar, the shampoo was familiar, and the deep, maroon towels were familiar. I rinsed my hair while Everly announced my toothbrush was by hers; one now brand new, wrapped up and waiting for me to return, black against pink. My fingers touched everything suspiciously. I opened cabinets and mirrors, riffledd through my own belongings, and pulled on a pair of dark boxers in my size. I slicked my hair back out of habit, and I stared at myself, cold and unfeeling, but it wasn't an honest reflection.

The Eric who looked back at me blurred, waving and distorted, until I'd had enough.

I joined her in an oversized bed made up of white sheets and an off-white comforter. It was clear she had slept here alone while I was gone, and there wasn't a single ounce of hesitation when she gestured for me to lie beside her, closer and closer. I pushed the sheets out of my way, listening to her saying she'd slept beside me since the first day I'd picked Amity, and I fell asleep with her head on my chest, and my arms angled to keep her close.

I wished fervently I'd remember everything then, but I didn't.

Dark sleep came first, despite my desire to hear everything about my life here. I had endless questions –mostly why did I pick Amity and how did I end up married at nineteen and in charge of the faction –but they lost out to the feeling of Everly against my chest.

I didn't need any memories to know this was right.

The feeling of her was enough to make me remember the first time her hands had grazed mine. With my eyes still shut, I watched myself wake up beside her. I watched her seek out warmth in the cold, then companionship over loneliness. In a faction of endless members, all she wanted was one person who liked her. I felt the same; I'd come to Amity out of spite but wound up falling into a life far superior to what I could have imagined. I had been lonely in every way imaginable, but I never viewed it as a weakness. I viewed it as a strength.

I never needed anyone, prided myself on not needing anyone, until I met her.

When I opened my eyes this morning, it was still dark. She was sound asleep, but she eventually joined me in the bathroom to brush her teeth. I had no clue what the morning would entail, but I wasn't expecting this.

A wasteland of snow, an endless storm, and a blur of memories, trickling back one by one.

---

"Fuck."

The little kid zooms past me with all the energy of a hummingbird on speed. He's only here because Everly's mother has brought him, and I make the blistering assumption he's related to Everly. He has the same dark hair that she does; it's long and unkempt, and just as wavy. He whirls around the living room like he owns the place, untied boots skipping by to grab a book, then cheerfully telling me he's happy I'm back but I look weird and does my head still hurt?

I blink at him, wondering if I had found him tolerable before.

"That's Zander. He's my little brother." Everly sinks onto the couch beside me, and her bare feet make me scowl. The house is cold despite the lit fire in the oversized fireplace, and her dress can't be all that warm.

To make up for it, she decides I will keep her warm. She sits as close as she can, and I lift my arm up to place behind her. My fingers graze her neck, trailing there as she wiggles away a free centimeter, and they stroke lazily down to her shoulder. When Everly is satisfied, she rests against me, and I have to admit I don't mind. There's not an unease to her being this close, only a familiarity I'm impatient to figure out.

"He's five now, and he's very happy to see you. He loves Dauntless. He lost his mind when he heard you were there." Everly's words are quiet enough only I can hear them, but Zander pays no attention to us. He climbs onto the large mantle, and his mother grabs him before he falls face first into the flames. Everly had introduced her when she showed up, and her mother didn't look all that surprised to see me, only that there was something stuck above my eyebrow. "He's says he's going to pick Dauntless."

"He'll fit in just fine," I observe dryly, watching as Everly's mother yanks him back and he protests as though she should let him burn the house down.

"Zander be careful! Remember what daddy told you. You could get hurt." She speaks gently, like he wasn't about to go headfirst into the fireplace, then she looks at me. When our eyes meet, she reminds me so much of Everly that I have to look away. "How are you doing, Eric? Are you happy to be back?"

I shrug because there is no real answer.

My answer is a million responses, but none of them are appropriate given the small child running around and how slight her mother is.

"He doesn't remember," Everly answers before I can announce I was happy to be back and I was biding my time thinking of ways to kill off half my family. "I thought he'd remember by now, but…" Everly pauses, and she sounds reasonably sulky. She leans in closer, and she fidgets with the bottom of my shirt. "They gave him an antidote, but he said it might take a few days."

"But he will remember, right?" Her mother moves closer, nothing more than a sweeping skirt and the same green eyes, and she stops to the side of me. When she's close enough, she touches my cheek, and I don't move.

Much like Everly's fingers on my skin, there is nothing but warm, earnest compassion in Eden's touch and not an ounce of personal boundary. She tilts my head slightly, and her fingers move up higher, stopping right at the very end of my eyebrow.

She says nothing.

Her eyes flick to mine, and her frown accompanies her fingers as they push my hair back so she can look at my face. Her smile is hopeful, and oddly knowing, and I let her, because I feel like this is important.

I'm right.

She touches just above the piercing, and her fingers graze the skin holding it in place. "You and I spent a lot of time stitching up your head."

I raise an eyebrow at her, and she smiles brightly.

"You know, I don't think it'll be much longer before you remember all of us." She looks back at Zander, and gestures for him to come over. "Do you want to say goodbye? We're heading home so Eric can rest."

"YES!"

She lets go when Zander launches himself at me. Sticky arms wrap around me, and this time, I have the urge to push him away. He's too small and wiggly, too excited and too energetic, for me to tolerate him.

I don't really have a choice.

His arms loop around my neck, and he hugs me tightly, refusing to let go.

He leaves only when his mother tells him his father will be by soon, and he's bringing him a present. Zander lets go immediately; he stops to stare directly at my face, and his green eyes are wide and knowing when he reaches forward to touch the piercing above my eye.

He lowly informs me he's going to Dauntless when he's old enough, and I can visit him there if I want.

---

"Fuck no. Get away from me."

I shoo Carole away, and for the first time I can remember, I fear for my life. There's something about her that makes me nervous, and it's not just that she's walked through a blizzard to drop off some soup. She stares me down intently, snow dampened flowers shoved into her hair haphazardly and her animal print blouse buttoned all the way up, and I step back so she can't get close.

Amity is full of people I don't remember, but I get the faint impression I don't want to remember everyone.

"Everly said you'll remember us all soon and not to be insulted if you don't," Carole presses her lips together, and her displeasure increases when I don't take the chicken in her hands. I was thrown off at first, but then I realized it was fairly tame, and Everly barely batted an eye. The chicken did. Right now, it eyes me suspiciously, one beady eye blinking in distress when I don't accept it into my arms as Carole shoves it at me. "I brought him as a gift. His name is Travis. I thought it would be a fitting way to welcome you back. He's an indoor chicken, so you'll need to find him a room, preferably one with a bed and a small door leading outside."

"Did I know you?" I stare in horror, wondering if my life in Amity truly included this woman or chickens. "Were we neighbors?"

"Oh for goodness' sake! I run the Big Chicken Rescue. You know me. My goal is to raise awareness about chicken fairness. I make sure all chickens are treated ethically here in Amity." Carole narrows her eyes at me and I must have ruffled a few feathers, because even Travis glares at me. "Obviously, I don't approve of them being used as food. The soup is vegetarian chicken noodle. I used a chicken substitute."

"Which is what?" I try to figure out who is more terrifying: Carole or Quinten, but I come up with a tie. Both seem capable of poisoning me, and both seem willing. "Thank you for the offer, but I'm fine. And I don't think Everly wants a chicken in the house. I haven't seen any pets."

"They aren't pets," Carole fumes. She yanks Travis back and stands up straighter. "You know, you were one of Howard's favorites. He talks about you all the time."

"He's still alive?" I blurt out, and Carole and I both freeze.

Her at the implication that Howard isn't alive.

Me at the words because I have no clue who he is.

But a part of me must.

"Why wouldn't he be alive? This must be your brain malfunctioning. Anyway, I'll have him stop by to see you. Feel free to come by if you need anything," Carole insists, and I stare at her, standing in the kitchen, clutching a chicken. "If you can get through the storm. I should get home. Travis gets a little scared when it snows and we have a far walk."

"Sure. Thanks for…visiting." I answer Carole flatly, and I rub my eyes, praying the antidote kicks in sooner rather than later except for the memories related to her.

This morning had been a constant stream of visitors. Each one was more curious than the next, and I couldn't name a single one. There were Jake and Ryan, eagerly dropping by dressed in crazy jackets and hats. Both were thrilled to see me, and terrified when they realized I wasn't exactly the same Eric who'd left here. They told me we could meet for beers as soon as I wanted to, and they were happy I was back. They left a few things: books, some beers with a sketchy looking label on them, and a menu from Harry's for me to look at in an attempt to entice me to stay. Everly watched with a slight smile, and she sank against me, softly informing me they were responsible for the large screen in the bedroom and even more important, they were true honest friends who wanted nothing but to see me back in Amity, back to normal.

Hank was next. I vaguely remembered him, and there was a sense of relief when he sat down at the table and drank his coffee. He didn't say much. Unlike everyone else, he didn't pry into what I was doing, why I didn't remember everything yet, or invite me to adopt one of his farm animals. He was quiet. When he spoke it was purposeful; he told me Everly had missed me more than I would ever know and he was worried she'd go right after me out of sheer desperation to have me back. I swallowed a mouthful of burning coffee when he explained a few guys here had tried to cheer her up, and it burned away the lining of my stomach until he assured me she refused to even entertain the idea of being with someone else.

She was still married to me, and she reminded them of that as many times as it took for them to get the hint.

Hank patted my arm when he left, assured me things would be fine, and not to worry.

Ian and Elisa followed shortly after. I had assumed most of Amity would stay home but the faction appeared to be taking the storm as a challenge. They bundled themselves up, trekked a few houses over, and cheerfully introduced themselves.

I liked them the best.

Ian was witty and clever, and Elisa was kinder than anyone I'd ever met. Even Atlas was impressive. As far as I could tell, he was barely three or four and he was incredibly well behaved. He colored a picture while his parents talked, and he hugged me when they were leaving, whispering he loved me. I stared at him, feeling a strange connection to the kid, and he waved the entire time he left, going as far as to ask Ian when they could come back.

The last visitor was May.

She showed up just as I was about to ask Everly if anyone else was coming by. She was intimidating at first, but that fell away when she made a beeline in my direction and threw her arms around me. The action was strange and jarring; her hug was tight and brave, considering I had come here as a leader from Dauntless, but it was obvious she knew me.

One hand held onto the back of my head, and the other touched my back.

I let her hug me because it was becoming very clear these people were relieved to see me. Unlike the harsh world of Dauntless, where soldiers would willingly watch another bleed if it meant a promotion or a moment of glory for them, I am welcomed back to Amity as though they are all my family. May's grip never lessened, not until Everly told her Howard was looking for her. She exhaled with heavy relief, and her parting words made me blink.

She informed me the army is ready and waiting, and they've been trained by another member of Dauntless in my absence.

---

"Fuck."

"Does it hurt?" Everly looks at me from her side of the bed, and her stare is worried. I'd taken a shower right after her, grabbed a pair of dark boxers and a dark shirt and went straight to bed. There was a twinge of something behind my eye, and while normally I'd assume this meant the serum was wearing off, this time, I knew it meant the antidote was working.

But the sharp stab of pain wasn't something I wanted to deal with. I didn't like the heavy feeling in my head, and I was growing frustrated with the lack of progress. I wanted to remember everything, and I was furious with each second that I couldn't.

"Yeah. I think it's what Arlene gave me." I look up to see Everly frowning, and a second later, she slips out of bed. "Where are you going?"

"To get you something." She calls back, disappearing into the bathroom. There's the sound of her rummaging through the cabinets before she returns with a cup of water. She looks triumphant, and I have the feeling she's about to offer me something made of dandelions and weeds. "Here. This should help."

"You have actual medicine here?" I raise an eyebrow once I see familiar white tablets in her hand, but the action makes my head hurt. Everly does her best not to make a face, and I know my hesitation doesn't make sense to her. I reach out slowly, touching her palm first and stalling before picking them up, and I know exactly what they are.

"Your dad dropped them off. He comes by to check on our infirmary. Since my mom runs it, I see him from time to time. He doesn't like that there isn't anything he considers effective medicine. I will admit, they've come in handy a few times. But don't tell my mom. She'll be crushed." Everly waits, dark eyes on mine until I take the painkillers. "They're very mild. You could probably take six and be fine."

"Interesting."

I swallow the familiar tablets without a second thought. Everly hands me the cup of water, and there's such a wave of appreciation for her that it makes me want to find Blythe and rip her head off.

"Thank you."

"I'll be back. Are you tired?" Everly returns to the bathroom to put the cup away, and I recline against a wall of pillows, listening to the sounds of Amity.

It's far different than Dauntless.

Dauntless has a hum to it.

A wiry energy, one that is never satisfied and never lets up. It runs through the faction like a current; a live wire feeding off fear and adrenaline. Since the faction never sleeps, neither does the feeling. More nights than I'd like to admit, I lie awake, just listening. We had a weak heating system and a weaker air conditioning system. Being underground amplified the noise, and if I listened hard enough, I swore I could hear the rush of water spilling over the chasm or the faint echoes of soldiers returning from patrol.

Amity is something else. The wide-open space swallows the storm whole and spits it back. The wind is loud, the windows rattle and shake, and the faint thump of wet snow is soothing. A few feet away, a fire crackles, popping and sparking every few seconds, and it's odd to know Everly and I are the only ones in this house.

My apartment wasn't in the main part of the faction, but there was a chance someone could find me. I wasn't totally inaccessible, and worse, most knew if I wasn't at work, I would be home.

"No."

"Do you remember me yet?" She returns as a blur of pink and white and black, and I tilt my head at her. I reach out one hand, shaking my head as she takes it, and I can feel her disappointment. "Why not? Didn't they inject you with something to make you remember? Maybe they gave you the wrong one?"

"They gave me the antidote," I answer evenly as Everly climbs onto the bed, and she settles herself over me. I sit up straighter as she balances over my thighs, then sits on my lap as though this isn't anything out of the norm. "Arlene said it can take a few days. That's all I know."

"Oh."

Her displeasure over my words mirrors my own. Unlike me, she doesn't let it keep her down. She inches closer, causing a wave of warm arousal to rush through me, and her hands move to my chest. When she's close enough, her eyes find mine, and they flash with disapproval.

"What's wrong?" I stare back, and I move her hair off her face. It's soft between my fingers, inky and smooth, and her lips part. "I know I look different. I saw a few photos from…when I was here."

"You look…. bigger. You're much more intimidating." Everly answers softly, and she blinks as she reaches to touch the weighted gauge in my ear. Each time it was stretched out it caused a burning pain, and more often than not, it was the only time I felt much of anything. "I want to take them out but I can't."

"Why?" I lock eyes with her, and I don't look away, not even when she frowns. "They slide out. I can put them back in later. Or not. They'll close up on their own."

"Harrison said not to change anything. Jeanine is going to come for you, and we want her to think you don't know what's going on. He said your mom will show up too," Everly points out lowly, and her fingers press carefully until the gauge slides out. "They won't be happy when they hear you aren't in Dauntless."

"How will they know I'm here? I could have driven the truck anywhere. I didn't sign anything. I turned my phone off," I counter while Everly moves to the other ear. When she's done, she focuses her attention on the piercing above my eyebrow. She chews on her lip, but she works wordlessly, and there's a pinch of pressure as she fumbles to unscrew it. "How do you know…"

"Landon pierced his eyebrow once. He thought it looked really cool. He bought the jewelry at the market. I had to help him take it out when his hair kept getting caught in it." She smiles brightly when the bar slides out, and she's left with a collection of metal, the most superficial evidence of my time in Dauntless. She holds onto it for a moment, then tosses it somewhere on the bed. "Do you have others?"

"Yes." I grow impatient to remember the brave girl whose legs are now around my waist, and I take her face in my hands. I slide them into her hair, yanking her forward as her eyes widen. "Who is Landon?"

Her response tells me everything.

She averts her stare, and when it returns to me, my stomach drops.

"Everly?"

"He's…he was a guy who lived here. He wanted to marry me. He asked when I was seventeen, and I told him no. I was going to leave when I could choose another faction, and instead, I met you, and I wound up picking Amity. When you also picked Amity, I asked to stay with you. Landon was furious I didn't want to be with him, and he…he was involved in a few…altercations with you. He cracked your head open once." Her explanation is strained; stress drips from each word, and her eyes are as wide as saucers. "He asked me to marry him over and over, but I wanted to be with you."

"Where is he now?" I curl my fingers in, feeling like I'm coaxing the answers out of her, and she closes her eyes.

"He got kicked out. He attacked you. He showed up at Forrest's bachelor party and you guys started fighting and –"

"Daniel said Blythe keeps sending you divorce paperwork. Did she? Did you sign it?" I forget about this Landon, but not entirely. I tuck his name away for later, and I ask her one of the more pressing questions on my mind. "I can stop it if you did. I'll fix it. I'll call Jack myself and…"

"She's sent it every week for the past year." Everly's nose touches mine, and she really is pretty. Her eyelashes are long, her skin is flushed pink, and her lips are inches from my own, soft and pink and presumably freezing since she's barely dressed. "I send them back unsigned every time. My dad told me she has to pay to have them delivered here, so I enjoy the fact that she won't give up. She must really hate me to keep making that poor guy trek all the way here. Eric…"

I wait.

She hovers over finishing her sentence for a moment, and her lips touch mine for a fleeting second. "Did you…was there anyone else? Other than me? In Dauntless? I just…I won't be mad, I just need to know."

Her words are a lie.

Her whole body has tensed up, wrought with anguish over wanting to know the answer to this and not wanting to know. Her hands return to my chest, and one slides up to my cheek, curling there while she shakes her head.

"I wouldn't be mad. I know you didn't –"

"There was no one." I cut her off, and I hate the discovery that Blythe's plans included having me divorce Everly so I could marry Ashley. "Blythe tried to get me to…be with Ashley but nothing came of it. I dreamt about you. I saw you almost every night, and I could never make sense of it. But there was no one. Only you."

"Okay," her exhale is heavy with relief. "I just…I missed you, but I promised myself I wouldn't be upset if anything happened. Harrison told me…he said you weren't happy but…"

She trails off, and whatever Harrison told her isn't important. She doesn't finish her sentence, or maybe she can't. There's a tiny squeak of despair as she sinks against me, and the softest, most familiar noise of approval when her mouth finds mine. She kisses me first, careful and slow, and I feel myself burning away.

The Eric from Dauntless, brutal and self-loathing and a pawn in someone else's game, fades away.

The Eric from Amity, strong but arrogant, a little too naïve, that Eric fades away, too, leaving someone I barely recognize.

Someone who only wants this: Everly, on my lap, refusing to give up on me.

"Eric," Everly breaks away abruptly, right as my hand moves to her back, and her fingers still. The nightgown is silky beneath my fingers, and cold. "What's your favorite color?"

"What?" I pull away slightly, and I widen my eyes in faux surprise. She isn't insulted by my response, but she chews on the side of her cheek, until my smirk becomes impossible to stop. "Are you…serious right now? You want to know what my favorite color is?"

"Just answer me," Everly leans in so she's right up against my chest. "What's your middle name?"

"Black. I don't have a middle name. What's your favorite color, Everly?" I lean in closer, and she shuts her eyes, keeping them shut when I take her lower lip between my teeth. "Actually, don't tell me. I bet it's pink. Everything in the closet is pink. What's your middle name? Is it Carole?"

She shakes her head, but she kisses me back, fighting her own laughter, and I feel far more drunk off this than I ever did off the shit beers I drank in Dauntless. "I don't have a middle name. My mom and dad couldn't agree on one, so I didn't get any. Holly and Paisley have the same one, though. What's your favorite food?"

"I don't discriminate amongst my meals," I answer, moving to drag my lips across her cheek. "How tall are you?"

"Six foot three." Her answer is lost in a sigh, right as I kiss the juncture of her jaw, snorting at her answer. "Okay, maybe not that tall."

"Did you sleep with Landon?" I murmur, and I don't really care. My mind is filled with hazy memories of us: her and I tangled together, her groaning my name, me groaning her name, hissing that I loved her right as my orgasm hit.

"Did you ever sleep with Ashley? She came here once, while you were in initiation." Everly's eyes are closed, and I hesitate to nod against her cheek. "Did you ever become friends with Four? I sometimes wonder how he's doing there or if he's staying alive. He always seems so down."

"I try never to think about Four," I hiss. "Especially not now."

She opens her eyes at my tone, and her grin is quick. "Eric…"

"I slept with Ashley in Erudite. That was it. Nothing happened in Dauntless. What about you and…and…Landon?"

"Landon?" Everly looks stunned, and her spine stiffens as she shakes her head. "No. Never. He…do you know?"

"Know what?" I quickly debate if I want to know what she's hinting, because each secret that was revealed wasn't any better than the last. "Tell me."

My hands grasp onto large sections of her hair until my fingers are tangled in it completely. She stares at me with large, green eyes, and I have a feeling I don't want to know what she's talking about.

"I won't be mad, I swear." I lean in to kiss her again, wanting nothing more than to stop talking, but she shakes her head. She really is small in stature, much smaller than I would think I would find acceptable, but she takes up enough space in my head. "Don't you trust me?"

"No," Everly shakes her head, smart enough to see through me. "I don't. Because when I do tell you, you're going to go find him and rip his head off."

"He's here?" I ask, dully remembering him.

The name brings a wave of anger, familiar and unfamiliar. I wait patiently for my wife to explain why I won't like him, or whatever he'd done that would make me so enraged I'd knock her off my lap considering she's half dressed.

"He comes and goes," she mumbles, but she wins out because she finds the hem of my shirt, and she works it up. "Eric, do you still love me? Even…even a little?"

"Is that what you want me to tell you? That I love you?" I help her pull the shirt over my head, and her expressions falters. She struggles to keep it neutral, and I don't blame her when her stare falls to the side.

Her plans tonight were clear: she had no intention of going to sleep, at least not until she and I were officially reunited.

"I don't have to remember to know I love you. The moment I saw your picture, I wanted to come find you. All that mattered was I got to see you again. I will remember you, but…I don't think I ever stopped being in love with you."

She jerks her stare back to me, and her lips part. "Do you mean that?"

"Yes."

Her lips crash against mine just as mine crash against hers.

There's a battle for dominance as her hands move everywhere, and my hands destroy her hair. They pull and catch in her hair, and they break free in a moment of pure, frantic impatience. Her hands touch my chest and shoulders, dipping low to graze my stomach, and lower to pull at the waistband of my boxers. My hands rip up the bottom of her nightgown, the slinky fabric slipping between my fingers. It goes over her head easily, and I toss it aside, not caring where it lands.

She sucks in a deep breath, and I hold her stare, remembering the very first time I met her, and how she'd looked at me the exact same way then.

"I will always love you, Everly Coulter. No matter where we end up or how long it takes. I will never not find you."

My declaration comes as she smiles, and it's like she's lit up by the pale glow of the moonlight. It hits me at once, like a blow to the head, that I do remember her, or at least a moment very similar to this. Whatever time it was, it pales in comparison to now.

She sits on my lap in nothing but pale underwear, and long hair tossed over one shoulder. She is still small; she is no larger than the first time I saw her, slender and tiny even wrapped around me, but soft. I've never met anyone like her, or anyone I wanted to keep touching.

My fingers press over her collar bone, over the slope of her shoulder, and the warm curves of her breasts. She stays still, occasionally sighing in approval and urging me on, and I have no clue how I went two years without her.

I try to say her name, but it comes out as a croak –stuck in my throat and rough –especially when my hands squeeze and my fingers stroke over exposed skin. The throbbing between my legs becomes nearly unbearable when Everly sighs my name. I hadn't paid much attention to the erection, but it turns painful, begging me to do more than this.

"I love you," she answers, and the moment proves to be one of the better ones this year. "But you have to tell me you won't go back. Please. I don't think I'd be able to handle you being gone again…"

"I promise."

The words are rough, and it's a surprise that I manage to say anything. Everly kisses my cheek, then my jaw, and the side of my neck. My hands move to her back, pressing carefully down her spine, and she groans as her hips move, seeking out friction.

I'm faced with an internal struggle of epic proportions: on one hand, I want to enjoy this, but on the other hand, I want to throw her back into our bed and fuck her until she barely remembers my name. There's something appealing about both sides, but ultimately, our time apart makes the decision for us.

Neither can wait.

I knock her back onto the bed and I'm over her before she can finish her yelp of surprise. I attack her neck first, marking my territory all over again. Pale skin turns pink beneath my teeth, and she tilts her head back, whimpering when I bite wherever I can.

She was mine once before, and she'll be mine from here on out. I have no plans to return to Dauntless, but I do have a dozen new plans. Some involve this bed, most involve Everly, and a few involve making sure Jeanine and Blythe never have the chance to get near either of us again.

"You look way bigger undressed," Everly mumbles, her hands clawing and tracing up and down my back. "Way bigger than I remember."

Her words make me smirk. I kiss her throat, her jaw, her cheek, and I rest my weight over her for just a moment. The ache to be inside her is overwhelming, but I force myself to slow down. Everly's legs are angled up, pressing inward, and her eyes find mine.

"I missed you so much. It was starting to become too hard to think about," she confesses, lovely and sweet, and I see nothing but a blur when her hands touch my face. She holds on carefully, tilting her head like she's memorizing the moment.

How fucking dare someone take me away from her.

How fucking dare someone think I wanted to be away from her, or that because they believed I should, they had any right to come between us.

"I asked Forrest to try one more time to find you. I thought if he could at least see you, maybe he could tell you –"

I cut her off, because I'm both too livid to hear what she's saying, and too unbearably impatient to draw this out any longer.

My mouth finds her right as my hands find the waistband of her underwear, and I yank them down. The action is comical; I'm pressed on top of her, and they tangle at her knees, evoking a low protest from both of us.

She remedies this when I rise up enough to pull them further down, and she reaches for my boxers. There's an incredible sensation when her hand takes hold of my erection, and my eyes shut on their own as her fingers wrap around me. She strokes up and down, sitting up to press her lips to my throat, and it's all familiar, but not entirely.

"Um, is that…does it feel…"

I can barely register what she's saying. This feels brand new. It's obvious we've slept together before, and our sexual relationship was just as strong as the others. Her commentary from the first night told me I'd slept with her knowing there was a chance she'd end up pregnant, and I'd willingly gone along with the idea that living in Amity involved us having a family. Such a permanent act makes my head spin, or maybe it's her rising to press her lips to mine, and her fingers tighten.

"Eric?"

She mumbles as I knock her back, and my hand grasps her thigh. I slide it down lower, exploring warm skin lazily, then even slower when her legs part and she all but shoves it between her thighs. Her skin is hot, wet when I trace between slick folds, and her groan of approval is enough to make me desperate. I nudge her back against the pillows, enjoying the submissive state of her head thrown back, and the feeling of her body drawing me in. Every deep inhale and exhale pulls me closer, and I realize I'm dripping onto my own thigh, about to lose it.

"Pretty," I drawl, having lost all eloquence. She wiggles against my fingers, taking hold of my wrist and keeping my hand where she wants, and little Amity is just as into this as I am. I admire both our refusal to be with anyone else, and I hiss when I feel her tense up. "Not yet."

Her eyes widen, and I yank her up and toward me. There's only a second of fumbling until I get her on my lap, and one of my hand grasps the back of her head. Our eyes meet –half hooded grey and equally sated green –and both of us are breathing erratically. I try frantically to remember this, but when I can't, I decide I don't need to.

If the antidote never works, if I never remember our wedding or how I fell in love with her, or how I wound up here, it won't matter. I won't waste another second on it. I'll start all over. I'll spend my days figuring out what makes Everly happy, and I'll spend my nights showing her how much I love her.

I'll make sure both of us are happy, and I won't look back.

"Are you on anything?" I grunt, and I can feel her just above me. She's so close one single thrust would have me inside her, but I hold off, watching her eyes fly open. "Everly?"

"No," she shakes her head, and her arms loop around my neck to pull me closer. "Nothing. I couldn't bring myself to drink any of what my mom made…and there isn't anything else here so…"

"I'll take care of you," I grit out, a laughable decree considering my world was pure chaos, but I have every intention of following through. All I had to do was kill my mother, my aunt, possibly an unhinged girl in Erudite who thought I'd marry her, and then things would be fine. "I'll make sure you're okay."

Everly nods, whimpering when I touch her, and mewling when I pull her down onto me. I had planned to take my time. I planned on memorizing every inch of her face and every single change in her expression, but I lose out to the sensation of being inside her.

It was worth the wait.

It was worth two years of ignoring the glances in my direction, or the less than appealing attempts from Ashley. It was worth going to bed frustrated, or taking care of it in the shower, to a nameless, faceless no one, because nothing compared to Everly.

Hot, slick wetness encompasses me. My cock is buried deep inside her, and the reaction is explosive. My skin feels like it's on fire, my thighs tense, and it feels so fucking good I can't see how I'll last more than a few thrusts.

I do.

Somehow.

I come much later, after Everly has gasped my name and her nails have scratched over tattooed skin, after she's been pressed beneath me, warm and boneless and giggling as my nose touched hers, and I did remember her.

I come hard, my body taking over before I can stop myself, and the drawn-out torture comes to an end.

She stares up at me with wide eyes, pulling my head to hers to kiss me, and I remember her being shoved into me in line right before she introduced herself.

I collapse on top of her under the sheer weight of the memory, so powerful it forces my eyes shut and my thoughts still.

---

The second time, I remember her a little more.

We're in no rush; her naked body never really stops touching mine, and I can't bear to leave her alone for very long. My legs tangle with hers, my fingers press her into the pillow above her, and I slide in and out, thrusting slowly, watching her skin flush.

The third time, I stare up at her, and I hazily decide I'm never leaving Amity again. Her legs are on either side of me, her hands are on my chest, and when she leans back, her hair tickles my thighs. I touch her slowly, stroking swollen nerves until she's the one begging me not to stop, and I come seconds later, knowing that I'm the only one she's ever been with like this.

The idea alone is a dose of lust; it encourages another round, but I'm tired, she's tired, and I swear it feels like everything is changing for the better.

Everly mumbles into the crook of my neck that she loves me, and I mutter into the dark galaxy of her hair that I love her, too.

---

The girl stares at me with wide eyes.

I don't know her and she's not even vaguely familiar. Her blonde hair hits her shoulders, choppy and uneven, and her bland clothes don't exactly scream Amity. She sticks out just enough that I'm suspicious, but mostly because she's in here, and I wasn't expecting anyone.

Everly had sent me to pick up a few eggs.

She swore Carole wouldn't mind and cheerfully informed me it was a quick walk to Carole's Hen House of Horrors. It was probably faster without the snow, but Everly was making waffles, and insisted we needed eggs. I agreed to go only because she looked hopeful, and I was discovering I couldn't tell her no.

Before I could figure out if this was a regular thing with us, I grabbed a pair of boots, headed out, and swore the entire walk. I saw only a few lone members also braving the storm, walking toward the main part of the faction. One waved, one didn't. I kept my head down, and when I found the large chicken coop, I scowled that I had been tricked by such a small girl. It was snowy and noisy, and it took much longer to walk here than Everly claimed.

Inside, it was warm and noisy. I grabbed a basket, picked a few eggs, and I was halfway out the door when I bumped into the girl. I muttered a few choice words followed by a rough move, but she didn't.

Now she simply stands there, looking horrified.

"What are you doing? Are you…are you here to kill me?" She backtracks so fast she hits the cages, causing the chickens to panic and flutter around and she pulls her arms inward. They are full of fabric, and her gaze swings wildly as she tries to breathe normally. "Shit. Shit. Are you…does Everly know you're here? I told that one guy, I'm not…. please don't kill me."

"What are you talking about? I'm not here to kill you." I glare at her, wishing she'd step away completely so I could leave. "I'm here to get eggs and that's it."

"Why are you back?" She clutches her arms tighter, and her face is pale. "Four said…Four said you were working for Jeanine. He said you're hunting people. He said you killed Amar."

"What?" I stare at her in disgust, and I have zero patience for this encounter. "I never killed anyone named Amar. I don't even know who that is. How do you know Four?"

She stares at me, unblinking and panicky. "He was their trainer. He was in Dauntless with Four but he went missing. I….I….tell me why you're here. Tell me what you did with Amar."

"I'm here to get eggs. What the fuck is your issue?" I step closer to her, and while I fully admit I had hunted people down, I refuse to take the fall for someone I didn't. "Who the fuck are you?"

The panic on her face intensifies. Her eyes widen, and were she someone in Dauntless, she'd probably have bolted or tried to slip around me, or if she were brave enough, she'd try to take me down. Here, there is nowhere to go and being trapped makes it all the worse. She winces, and when I glance down, I realize she's holding an infant.

A tiny, bird-like baby, with familiar beady eyes.

"Is that his?" I cock an eyebrow at the girl, and her lips start to sneer. "You think I'm here to kill you because Four got lucky once in his life?"

"He's Four's." She looks furious now, and I can't for the life of me figure out what is going on. "He told me all about you and the work you do. He told me –"

Something clicks.

I remember Rylan talking about Four seeing someone in Amity, and I have a feeling this is her.

I feel a speck of dark amusement at Four having such terrible taste and an even larger bit of amusement that Four believes I killed his precious trainer.

"He," I emphasize the word. "is a lowly trainer in a faction that wouldn't bat an eye if he went missing. He trains initiates and spends his nights watching computer monitors. I wouldn't put so much stock in what he tells you," I warn her, and her eyes are large. "I've done a lot of things in my life, but he has no clue what he's talking about and neither do you. Now get out of my way."

"So it's true? You hunt people? You've just learned to live with the blood on your hands?" For a second, she's brave, but not that brave. Once she's done acting like someone else, she backs down, clutching the child like I'm about to snatch him from her arms and all but whimpers. "Just leave me alone. I don't care who you are. I don't care why you're here. I just want to be left alone."

"Good. Then we won't have any problems." I take one last look at her, and the girl's face tenses. I flash her a bright, blinding smile as I vibrantly remember Rylan telling me Four was just as stuck in Dauntless as the rest of them. "It was really good to see you again. Good luck with your…child."

She looks away, and I leave just as quickly as I showed up and I realize I do know her.

Tris Prior, friend of Everly's, and the only real reason Four would ever have to come here.

The very same Tris whose name is on my list.

---

"What's it like in Dauntless?"

Everly leans with her elbows propped up on the table, and across from her, Rylan and Courtney stop staring at each other long enough to look in our direction. They'd shown up a half hour ago; their arrival during a never-ending snowstorm expected and welcome. I figured it wouldn't be long before he wandered by, and I was right.

It took a couple days, but he showed up looking like a member of Amity, with his fingers wound through Courtney's and a shirt that matched the ones hanging in Everly's closet. I eyed him suspiciously, and he threw me a blinding grin and let himself in.

"Gross. Loud. Not romantic in any way."

Rylan's answer is distracted. His attention turns back to Courtney, and she looks just as lovesick as him. Their separation had to be painful. Two years was a long time to be apart, especially when you could remember the person you were supposed to be with. I feel no jealousy that he had her all this time, because there was no way I'd have been able to stay in Dauntless if I remembered Everly.

Rylan either had endless self-control, or he'd been coming to Amity on the regular, which would explain why Courtney looks a little pale, and Everly made her toast and tea upon their arrival.

"I have an office and Harrison gave me a deer skull. So…that's cool." Rylan leans into Courtney, and she leans into him. Their affection is easy and visible, and there's no hesitation in how he feels. "I'm thinking about not going back. Especially not now. I can't. I'll just have to kill Jeanine with my bare hands. Then I can stay."

"You want to kill Jeanine?" I blink, and Everly's hands find mine. She pulls them toward her, and when I glance down, her eyes are worried. She smiles immediately, and I scoot closer, feeling an odd flush of jealousy when Rylan nods. "Well, I'm gonna kill her first."

"No, I am!"

"Why don't you both kill her?" Courtney wryly interjects, and I discover I don't find her all that unfamiliar. In fact, I can remember her. I can remember her pleading to use my phone to call Rylan, and standing beside me, looking hopeful as ever.

She looks different now. She's not as starkly skinny, like a scrappy kid who was always left behind, and her dress fits…oddly. I tilt my head at her and Rylan winks.

"Okay fine, we can kill her together. We should probably get Jason involved so he doesn't feel left out. He'll be here as soon as he can." Rylan nudges Courtney, and he pushes her toast closer to her. "He visits Sophia whenever he has a few days off together. I don't know if you remember that…yet. Or how much better you like me than him."

"How could I forget?" I snort, but the laughter dies when someone knocks on the door. I look at Everly, reflexively, and she grins.

"I'll get it. It's for me, anyway."

"How do you know it's for you?" I ask, but she doesn't answer. She heads to the living room, and I'm left with Courtney and Rylan gazing at each other in a nauseating manner. "Are you two just going to stare at each other all day?"

"Yes," Rylan answers, and he doesn't even bother to look at me. "You can leave if you want."

"It's my house," I answer back flatly. Rylan does look up then, smirking as I shrug. "Or it was. Maybe it still is. Who knows?"

"It's Everly's house. Just admit it. You got assigned to live with her and never left. It'll be a cute story to tell your kids." He snickers and Courtney freezes. Her toast sits with a few bites taken out of it, and she lowly whispers she'll be right back. She smiles at me, wan and pale, and vanishes through the kitchen.

"Is she okay?" I watch her leave, and in the distance, I can hear Everly faintly telling someone I am here, and I do have time to talk. "Rylan?"

When his stare meets mine, his eyes are bright, and his smile is bigger than ever. He pulls out his phone and tells me to hold on.

A second later, I grumble that I don't remember everything yet, and I won't have any clue what he's showing me.

"I'm getting there. You don't need to remember anything right now. Just…look!"

Rylan shoves the phone at me and swipes at a rapid speed through several dozen photos. Most are photos I don't need or want to see: him and Courtney in bed, a shirtless photo of him presumably taken by her, him at the same bar I'd seen on my phone, the two of them at a house I don't recognize, Courtney, wearing the same sort of dress Everly has, holding a million ducks and beaming, Rylan and Courtney at a house I do recognize –his parents' –and the two of them holding a few photos, grainy and dark while his mother hugged Courtney.

"I took her to Erudite to see your dad. She needed an appointment, and even though Eden can help her, we just wanted to be sure and I just want you to know….you'll always be my favorite person in the entire world and I've already told her you can be the Godfather and Jason can be the second Godfather and Everly is really excited and I always thought I'd have to steal a child and this won't change anything because I'm sure you'll have ten kids really soon." He leans back triumphantly, and I blink, taking this all in. "Or chickens. That lady keeps wandering by, asking about you. Everly had to tell her to go home and stop being such a stalker."

"What!?" I stand up, and before I can congratulate Rylan on having both a million ducks and a child on the way –a thought which makes my head hurt, that anyone would ever consider Rylan father material –Everly walks through the door with Harrison.

He looks right at me, his dark uniform stiff and new, and asks me to follow him.

---

"Why didn't you stop her?"

I stare at Harrison from across a bar table, taking a drink of the beer Forrest has dropped off. I haven't seen him since returning to Amity, and his greeting was nothing less than raw, pure enthusiasm. I didn't need to remember him to know he was happy I was back. He took out a few employees trying to get to me, and he held on so tightly I tripped over my boots, and he dragged me away from Harrison so he could tell me he missed me.

The horror I felt was immediate, but it vanished quickly, because his greeting wasn't…awful.

I don't have any siblings, and while my gut reaction was to push him away and demand he tell me everything –why he came to find me, how he put all the stuff together, how he decided I'd been in Dauntless long enough –I let him hug me. I half hugged him back, identical shirts pressing together, and he shoved me toward his best table and announced he'd be back. A single minute later, he brought us his best beers and onion rings.

"How are you liking Amity? Are you enjoying being back?" Harrison ignores my question to ask his own. He takes a large swig of beer, then reaches for his fries. "It's very different from Dauntless."

"It's definitely…appealing," I respond, and his grin doesn't go unnoticed. "You come here often?"

"I'm sure your friends told you, but Everly is my daughter. I'm here enough to make sure she's doing alright, and enough to make sure no one comes for her. Your aunt has been very interested in her these days, and it's my job to make sure Jeanine stays far away." Harrison's expression is grim; his shoulders rise up when he mentions Jeanine, but he downplays it. "And yes, Amity is very appealing. Compared to Dauntless, it's a fucking paradise."

I do my best to not demand he tell me everything he knows. Sitting with Everly's father, whichever one he may be, feels important, and it's obvious he's in no hurry.

"I did hear you're her father. I'm not…. I just need to know –"

"You want to know about Everly being my daughter, or how you wound up in Dauntless, drugged to the gills? Which one, Coulter?" He interrupts, and I quickly figure out he's not in the mood to talk about why his daughter lives here, with her mother and other father.

"The second one. Everyone let me stay in Dauntless like it was fine? Why did no one help?"

Harrison raises an eyebrow. "You wanted help? Eric Coulter, reigning king of Dauntless wanted his friends to bail him out? Well, that's a surprise."

"I didn't pick Dauntless. I was only there because –"

Harrison has the audacity to smirk. "I'm just giving you shit. No one helped because they couldn't. One day, Jeanine and Blythe showed up with you and announced you were coming to help as a Leader, and Dauntless was your rightful faction. Our instructions were very clear: keep quiet about how you got to Dauntless if we wanted to stay alive. Jeanine made a few amendments later, and she reasoned that if we went after you, she'd go after our families. Rylan was threatened with his mother and father, and it was the same for Jason. Max was threatened with his wife." Harrison pauses, and I can predict what's next. "I was told if I so much as thought about getting you out of there, my family wouldn't be here when I came back."

"No one noticed?" I take a bite out of my hamburger, and in the background, Forrest loudly informs someone his brother is home, and it's all thanks to him. "No one –"

"Plenty noticed. People come and go in Dauntless. When you were proficient as leader, they accepted it without question. People will willingly accept things they perceive as facts. They were told you were a leader, and you were. Some had a few questions, but no one gives a shit what Kacie or Quinten ramble about."

"And my work with Jeanine?" I stall by taking another drink, and it's fascinating to hear how this played out over two years. "Was it legitimate?"

"Unfortunately, yes. While you half-assed most of it, because even a drugged Eric doesn't enjoy taking orders from anyone, you did bring in a few…. who had been labeled as Divergent. All three were tested. None survived." Harrison looks at me, and it's like he knows I'm about to stand up and walk to Erudite if I have to. "You don't have to worry. You were following instructions, and given what you were injected with, no one is holding you accountable. If it comes down to it, the blame will fall to Jeanine."

"Will?" I grit out, and I have to say, this lunch has taken a tense turn. "What are you gonna do? Prosecute her with Jack? That'll take forever. She'll kill me before she takes the fall. She'll say I worked for her willingly. My signature is all over paperwork there. You know this because you work there!"

"Calm down. I don't plan on prosecuting her. I'm just giving you some peace of mind." He leans back, and he smiles when Forrest drops off more drinks. "Thanks, kid."

"Dad, did you tell him? Did you tell him the…the plan?" Forrest half whispers, half yells, but it's drowned out by the noise of the bar. "Everly said –"

"Did they ever come looking for Everly?" I lean forward, and across the bar, someone celebrates throwing the winning dart. "She said she was told to be quiet."

"They showed up several times. She humored them once and listened to what they had to say. Her agreement was only in defense of her family. She refused to let anyone be hurt, but she and Forrest have been trying to figure out a way to get you back. When your second wedding anniversary passed, she'd finally had enough." Harrison gestures for Forrest to sit, and the authority in him comes easily. "So he went to see you. He reported back that you were as amicable as ever, but you looked slightly different."

"I mean, the throat tattoo? The piercings? Edgy, but a little much," Forrest adds, and he stares at me until his face lights up. "Wait! What happened to the…the one in your eyebrow? The black things? Do you still have them somewhere?"

"Everly took them out," I shrug, ignoring how Harrison looks amused. "Why?"

He and Forrest exchange a quick glance, and I struggle to figure it out.

"Anyone? Forrest? Harrison? Guy throwing darts even though he's had six beers since I've been here?"

"That's Melvin and he's fine. He has a high tolerance for the drinks we serve," Forrest answers casually, and he crosses his arms to mirror his father. "Did you save them? Because you're gonna need them."

"Why do I need them? What the fuck are you hinting at?" I don't glare at him, because it's clear there's a plan in place, but I have no clue what. I turn irritable, because if there is a plan that involves me, I'd at least like to know this time around. "They're at the house. Everly tossed them somewhere. I don't know. But maybe you could explain to me what's going on?"

"Eric," Harrison pulls out his phone, and he swipes through his contact list. He stops on Kacie's name, and he presses the call button. "Have Everly help you put them back in. You and I are going to really make sure no one hurts our family ever again."

---

"Fuck."

Everly wiggles the sharp end of the bar through the skin above my eyebrow, and she scrunches up her face when it sticks. Her cheeks are pink, as pink as her dress, and her hair is a mess. Long and wavy, spilling over her shoulders, down to her ribs. She holds my face carefully, tiny fingers pressing firmly, and her lips turn down in defeat.

"I think it's stuck. Would it close that fast?" She moves closer, until she's almost on my lap, and I close my eyes and grit my teeth. "Should I just shove it through?"

"Yes."

She takes orders well. Her only hesitation is when she tells me to take a deep breath. There's a flash of pain, a few swear words on my part, and a pained expression on her face when I open my eyes.

"I'm sorry," she drops her hands to my cheeks, and I smile down at her. "Um, well…it's done and you look…well, you like a different Eric again. The Dauntless version of Eric."

"Yeah," I nod, touching her cheek, skimming over the sharp bone until I reach her ear. "It's temporary." I pause, and her eyes search mine. "Unless you like it."

"I will admit, the uniform is pretty hot." She struggles not to laugh at her own joke, and she loses out when I shake my head. "So you promise me, you'll be safe? Nothing can go wrong? You're going to come home tonight and hopefully remember everything?"

"I promise." I touch my lips to hers, and the kiss doesn't stay soft for very long. She holds on tightly, her nails digging into my scalp, and I have to stop myself before it goes very far. "We can celebrate tonight. I'll even let you pick a movie. A good movie, not one of those crappy, romance ones."

She freezes. Her lips stay on mine, unmoving, for a second. I feel her suck in a deep inhale, and she still doesn't move.

"What?" she breaks away slowly, and her eyes are wide. "What did you say?"

"A movie. I said you can pick a movie," I stare back at her, just as confused. "I'm being nice, Amity. You made me watch the shitty vampire one. With the guy who sparkles. And the…the dog guy? I was saying you could pick one tonight. Just not that one."

"Do you remember?" She gasps, and her hands move to the collar of my jacket. "Eric, please…tell me you remember. Tell me!"

I don't get to answer her. I don't remember everything, nor do I even know where the idea came from. We haven't watched any movie, nor do I even know what sort of guy would sparkle. The words spilled out of my mouth before I could stop myself, but they mean something to her.

Too bad I don't have time to figure out what it means.

Harrison shows up loudly, and he yells from downstairs that I don't have much time and to hurry the fuck up before I blow this.

---

"It's really good to see you again."

I smile brightly as she comes closer, keeping my arms behind my back. She walks carefully. Her boots are not appropriate for the weather in any way. They are no doubt expensive, purchased from the finest boutique in the land, with a label of a stuffy designer stamped on the side.

She walks elegantly, until the snow deepens.

"What are you doing out here? Jeanine and I have been looking for you for days." Blythe gasps, slipping on a slick spot. She recovers immediately, but it's comical to see her out here. Her blonde hair is perfectly straight, her royal blue coat is heavy, but unbuttoned to show off her white dress, and her gloves are black. Light snowfall dusts her shoulders and hair, and she hisses when she slips again, her disapproval of nature evident all over her face. "Isn't there an office we could use? Somewhere inside."

"They're all being used. And my apologies. My phone was off," I smirk, and I widen my eyes in pure delight when she stops in front of me and shoves an invisible stray hair back into place. "I came looking for a girl named Tris Prior. She's next on my list. She was one of the ones Jeanine wanted."

"Did you find her?" Blythe looks suspicious, and she should be.

A few hours ago, I'd called asking her to meet me. I said it was urgent, and the relief in her voice was startling. It was gone as quickly as it came. She turned angry, giving me an earful about how it had been days since they'd heard from me, and I was expected in Erudite for a meeting I never attended. I blew her off, staying unbothered, and announced I had something better for her, something she'd want.

Everly Coulter's signed divorce papers.

"Why have you been in Amity for nearly a week? Why are you not in Dauntless? Jeanine is furious. I'm not sure getting your stupid wife to sign some paperwork two years too late will pacify her," Blythe pauses to glance around, but there's no one out here.

I'd had her meet me behind the Dome, just off to the side. The location I gave her was near the woods, a large area I was unfamiliar with. I glance at them out of the corner of my eye, a foreboding backdrop for this meeting, but fitting. Everly had explained it was easy to get lost in them. They spanned for miles, slanting and sloping and dropping off into the river. Further in were the cliffs, including a spot she insisted I rather enjoyed.

I'd listened to her, my full attention making her cheeks turn pink, and I pressed my lips to hers when she informed me if I was really good, she'd show me the lake where we went swimming.

"She signed them. Isn't that what you wanted?" I raise one eyebrow, ignoring the flash of pain, and Blythe stares up at me. "What?"

"Do you know? Is that why you're here? Because you know you married her and it…it didn't work. However, it's a little strange that you came to Amity to find someone but stopped by to see your now ex-wife."

I hold her stare. I make her wait, then shrug nonchalantly. "I know what you did."

"What did you say?" Blythe narrows her eyes, and her suspicion makes her straighten her spine. She's rightfully worried, and I imagine she's spent two years on edge, praying I didn't let the serum wear off completely. "What do you mean, you know what I did?"

"Sending Ashley for me. Thinking…I'd want to marry her. I know there were a few…mistakes made. Mostly on your part."

"Oh, for fuck's sake. You don't have to marry her. I haven't even seen her in a week. I was just trying to find you someone to make you happy. Is there someone else? Someone in Dauntless? Is that what this is about?" Blythe exhales heavily, but she looks irritated. "Did you really make me come all the way to Amity to tell me you don't want to marry Ashley? Fine. I don't give a shit who the fuck you marry, so long as you stay in Dauntless, where you're needed. Really, Eric. This is a waste of my time."

"There's something else." I step closer, closing the distance between us. It takes two steps. The air grows colder, sharp and painful as the wind blows, and the white around us intensifies. "Something…bigger."

"Get on with it. I'm freezing," Blythe snaps. "I hope it involves an apology for dropping off the face of the Earth when there's work to be done. You're supposed to be proving your loyalty, not running around Amity. The factions are a mess. Dauntless is being run by Max, Jeanine is waiting for you to call her, and…and…"

"And what?"

I stare down at Blythe and it's like looking at someone I barely know. I know she is my mother. I know I had lived with her, had attended events with her, I know my picture had once been up in her office, until she tore it down in a fit of rage over a teacher I flipped off instead of answering where I was during second period. I know she loathes my father. I know her clothes are expensive, her haircut is expensive, and her patience for everyone around her is minimal. I know she has an undying loyalty to her sister, one that overrode the loyalty she should have had to my father, and her interest in me is nothing more than someone who is expected to do as she asks.

For a second, I stare at her, trying to feel something.

Anything.

"And what, Eric? What do you want to tell me? That you're done wasting my time?"

I feel nothing.

No attachment to her, no sympathy for her fate. I suppose I feel a fleeting flash of empathy, perhaps because I'd spent the past few days with Everly, and she was incredibly empathetic, but it's gone right along with the howl from the woods, and the faint shuffle of snow as boots press over it.

"I know what you did, Blythe. I know you drugged me. I know you've been keeping everyone quiet, all because your sister asked you to." I pause when her lips part, and they part again when I lean in, taking hold of her arm. My grip is tight with unspoken rage, and she tries to wrench away with a wince. "I'm not leaving her. In fact, when I'm done here, I'm going back to her. I've been with Everly this whole time. And if you think you got lucky, if you think I will ever help you or your sister again, you're wrong."

There is another soft thump as her lips part further, followed by a gasp, and the faintest gurgle of something stuck in her throat.

She's frail these days, and it doesn't take much.

"Did you…did you…. just…"

She doesn't jerk away. She merely steps back, pulling her hands to her chest. Her fingers press frantically in an attempt to stop the bleeding, but the knife is lodged deep within, where I would imagine her heart lie. Her eyes rise up to meet mine, and I can see each pulse and pound of her heartbeat, slowing down second by second. There's a wooziness to them as her mind makes the connection she's injured, and unfortunately, there's little she can do.

"Eric…" She licks her lips, blood appearing in slow, demanding waves, and she gasps. Her hands move to the handle of the knife, and she hesitates only because she knows what'll happen. If she removes it, she'll bleed out before she can blink. "They'll find you. They're watching…They'll come looking for you, you worthless little –"

"Harrison turned off the cameras," I tighten my grip on her arm, and I lean in closer. "I just want you to know, I should have killed you forever ago."

I let go when she swears, the word offensive given her regal stature and high esteem, and she sinks into herself. Her white dress is a violent shade of red now, some spots so dark they are nearly black, and some so light they appear pink. I watch her struggle for a second, the pain becoming a little too intense, and her breathing coming in uneven waves, and I wait.

I wait until she collapses to her knees, and her eyes meet mine one more time.

She says my name, the word blurry and desperate, and I shake my head slowly. Her plea is lost on me, even more so when I have a clear image of her standing in front of me, having me injected with a serum so she could control my life.

I press my lips together, basking in an overwhelming sense of freedom, and for the first time in two years, I find some appreciation for my mother making me the person I am.

Without her, I might have forgiven her.

She closes her eyes tightly, her breathing now fast and shallow, and I smile when she opens them to look up at me. Her stare is full of hatred and utter loathing, and the faintest hint of disbelief. I crouch down by her, and just when she blinks, I shove the knife in a little deeper, turning it slightly.

Then I pat her arm, stand up, and make sure she hears my parting words. They are fitting, given how she tried to end my life a few years ago, and they are all she deserves.

"Well, Blythe, I guess this is goodbye. The only thing left to say is…" I pause, and her eyes find mine, weak and ill, hazing over as she bleeds out into a bank of white snow. "… Everly sends her regards."