You once told each other that there was nothing you wouldn't do. You realize that this is a lie, that there is a limit to what you'll do for her, take from her.
Her visits grown rare, they have no laughter, and then she stops coming altogether. You do not cry because you think you might've lost her the day she got on that plane and that creature with far too much grave isn't Ivy Tamwood, or maybe it is and you never knew her at all.
Her scent is engrained in Piscary's skin, the day he binds you to him.
You hate her, just a little, for that.