Before I could react, she stumbled toward Carmilla and threw herself into her arms.
“Mom! Are you okay? I was so scared… I was so scared…”
Carmilla burst into tears, clutching her tightly.
Viggo’s back was torn open, blood soaking through his shirt, but he didn’t spare himself a glance. He lowered his head, checking Carmilla over and over.
“Where does it hurt? Did you get scared?”
In that moment, love and indifference stood in stark contrast.
I stood off to the side, something lodged in my chest so tightly I could barely breathe.
For weeks I’d told myself to stay calm. To harden my heart. But when you finally understand that you are not the one being chosen… it still hurts. It hurts so badly your whole body trembles.
I didn’t understand how it had come to this.
I used to believe Viggo had loved me, at least once.
Seven years ago, during the cruise ship fire, he never left my side.
We drifted at sea for three days and three nights. He fed me his own blood to keep me conscious and begged me not to give up. When we were rescued and I burned with a high fever, he ignored his own weakness and took care of me for an entire week.
Back then, I thought I would marry no one but him.