“I’m only here to say goodbye,” Matt said as soon as the meadow appeared that night. It was day in dream-state, but the sky was overcast and gray, the trees around them were partly obscured by fog, and the air had a crisp chill to it.

Sera walked around him slowly, and he flinched when he saw the pain in her eyes. “Don’t say that,” she whispered. “You promised.” She came closer, laying her hands on his bare chest, looking up at him with her loving gaze and it tore at his heart.

“I promised I’d let you touch me and that I wouldn’t talk about what a monster I am,” he said quietly. “I won’t break that promise. But I never agreed to stay.” A tear dropped onto her cheek, and he brushed it away with his thumb.

“Please don’t go,” she begged softly. “Stay with me.”

He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, running his fingers through her darkening golden hair. She had made up some nonsense about the color having to do with particular things in dream-state, dismissing it by saying it was complicated. “Why didn’t you tell me that you're losing your power?”

“Would you have let me come if I did?”

“No.”

“That’s why,” she told him. “I need to be with you.”

“You shouldn’t have done it,” he said sadly. “Is there any way you can keep your place at the temple?” But he knew the answer. He knew personally how temples worked. Breaking the first law was an unforgivable offense, regardless of which god you served.

“No, I don’t think so,” she told him. “But I don’t regret it. You wouldn’t let me come to you in person. I had no choice.”

His eyes stung and it started to rain lightly, as if the sky was shedding the tears he was holding in. He caressed her face. “I never wanted to hurt you, but I have. And you’ll hurt more when Vivyka gets to you.”

“Vivyka?” she asked, her eyes widening. “What’s she have to do with it?”

He sighed. “She was the one… the woman I hurt. She was with me when she lived in Seaport.”

Sera’s breath caught and her hand went to her chest as more tears came. A new pain entered her eyes along with a sudden understanding. “That was you?” she whispered.

He looked away from her. His chest felt as if it had been stabbed.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. After a moment, she looked up at him again. She put a hand on his cheek and turned his head to look at her. “That was the past,” she told him, her voice soft but firm. “Things have changed. You have changed. And I know enough; whatever she tells me won’t make me stop loving you.” She slid her arms around his waist and clung to him.

He stroked her hair tenderly. “Yes, it will.”

She lifted her head and shook it. “No. I’ll still want you. I’ll always want you. We belong together.”

“Even if that were true, I’d still be saying goodbye. It’s for the best.”

“Best for who?” she asked. “Not for me.”

“Yes, it is. And I’m sorry, more sorry than I can say. There’s nothing I want more than to be with you,” he told her fervently. “But I can’t be selfish anymore. You’re an angel, and I can’t have that.” He leaned down and kissed her wet lips. His chest hurt more with the contact.

“Matt, please don’t do this,” she cried when he moved his lips to her forehead.

He looked down at her. “I have to. I’m sorry,” he said again as he caressed her cheek, savoring the feel of her smooth skin and the adoring look in her eyes. “But thank you… for loving me. I’ve been happier with you then I knew I could be.” He smiled sadly. “Goodbye, Angel.”

She grabbed his face and pulled him close, kissing him again. “Just close your eyes and whisper my name,” she said desperately against his lips, “And I’ll come to you.”

“I won’t,” he promised softly. “Goodbye.”

He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he was back in his bed, dry and awake. Sera had lied to him; leaving dream-state wasn’t about wanting to go. Thankfully, it was like Tess said: it was when you decided to go, like walking through a door.

He had never felt his heart before Sera—before she had brought it to life, filled it with tenderness, and made it fragile. Now he felt it shatter, breaking into a million shards, each piece cutting him, tearing at him, hurting him in a way he could have never imagined before.

Malluk's right, he thought, a heart really is a weakness.

He lay in bed for a while, just trying to breathe past the pain, but staying there wasn’t helping. He got up, lit a cigarette, and headed to the kitchen for a bottle of ale. He wished he had hard liquor instead, but since he never drank the stuff, there was none in the apartment.

He paused on the way back to his room and looked over at the couch. There was just enough room for one person, but Tess and Ayden were both there, wrapped around each other. Ayden was awake, watching Matt. His arms tightened around Tess protectively, perhaps possessively, and she snuggled closer in her sleep. Matt’s chest hurt more. He wanted Tess to have what he couldn’t, and yet he hated her for it.

“If I try to leave, will you kill me?” Matt asked quietly.

“No,” Ayden answered, obviously wanting it to be otherwise. “But I will stop you." Matt rolled his eyes and sighed, but before he could walk away, Ayden asked, “Why do you wanna die?”

Matt turned back. “Same reason you want to kill me… and you barely even know any of the horrible things I’ve done.” He met his gaze evenly. “Monsters are supposed to die. It’s supposed to be your job to kill them.” He took a drag of his cigarette and blew it out slowly. “So, if you decide to stop being a puppy for a minute and grow a pair…” He didn’t need to finish the sentence. He just turned and walked back into his bedroom, leaving the door open a few inches—an invitation.

__________

At some point in the night, Matt must have fallen asleep—though he didn't feel like it—because it was suddenly light outside. The rising sun was just starting to flood the city with its usual desert brightness.

The apartment was silent. Still wearing the pants he had been wearing for the past few days, he walked across his bedroom on bare feet. He opened the door and looked around the empty apartment. Tess and Ayden were gone.

He sighed, not sure if he felt relieved or not. He stood there for a few moments, staring at the couch, until he started thinking too much and the pain in his chest came back. He sighed again and rubbed his face, then frowned at the coarse stubble under his hand. He had never gone so long without shaving before… or bathing, he thought, glancing down at himself. He went into the bathroom, started running a hot bath, then went back to his room.

Finding his cigarettes on the nightstand, he lit one. When he turned around, he noticed a black leather jacket lying on the corner chair. It was Vivyka's jacket.

A memory came to him, but this time, at least it is was a good one…

He was sitting with Vivyka at the small kitchen table, staring out the window and smoking a cigarette.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked.

He looked at her as he took a drag, then blew it out slowly. She picked up his silver case, which sat before him, and got a cigarette out for herself as she waited for him to answer. He smiled and handed her his lighter.

“Well?”

“I was thinking about you, actually,” he told her.

She smiled. “All good, I hope.”

He chuckled softly and looked back out the window while she sighed at not knowing. He had been thinking about their relationship, and how it surprised him. Before he met her, he had been with a different woman every night and had thought it would always be that way. The idea of just one woman was boring, but he found he liked it. He had always been a creature of habit. He liked adventure, danger, and new experiences, but he sought those out; at home he had his routine. He almost always knew what would happen tomorrow—it was about control. No one else dictated his life; only he did that. Even the different women were planned. It was clockwork. You could find him in a tavern at the same time every night, with very occasional exceptions.

The difference between Vivyka and every other woman was that he could stand Vivyka for more than a night. It was surprising to him that he had been with her now for almost ten months, and he still liked having her around.

He looked at her again. She had started filing her nails. He watched her face. She was an incredibly beautiful woman, and ever since he had broken her in and brought out that fire in her, she had been incredible. He liked having someone who knew exactly what he wanted, who was as passionate and wild as he was. And she was fun to take places, to just hang out with. She still pissed him off sometimes, but for the most part, he liked everything about her. And he really liked spoiling her. She got so excited about new things; her face would light up and she would smile, seeming so happy.

He put out his cigarette and headed for the bedroom. “We’re going shopping,” he told her.

“Why?” she called.

He put some black pants and socks on and walked back into the living room. “You need new clothes,” he said, then smirked. “I’m pretty sure you wore that yesterday.”

She looked down at her naked body and laughed softly. “You’re just bored, aren’t you?”

He shrugged as he sat on the couch and starting pulling his boots on. “I like buying you things. Are you complaining?”

“Not at all. I grew up in an orphanage, so I never had nice things. I always had secondhand stuff before you.”

“That explains the shit you owned when I met you,” he noted.

“It was all I could get. I used to stand in front of shop windows and daydream about owning nice things.”

“Well, now you can have anything you want,” he told her, then amended, “as long as it’s good enough for you.”

“Still feels like you waste your money on me, though,” she mumbled. “Am I really worth it?”

Finished with his boots, he sat up and gave her an incredulous look. “I only have the best. If you weren’t worth it, I wouldn’t be with you,” he said matter-of-factly. She looked down and smiled. He smiled, too. “Get ready,” he ordered lightly. “Or I’m taking you out like that.”

She put out her cigarette and stood up. She started toward the bedroom, but stopped halfway and turned to him as he was putting on his jacket. “Would you really?” she wondered.

He didn’t hesitate. He closed the distance between them in two strides, grabbed her around the waist, threw her over his shoulder, and carried her to the front door.

She laughed. “No, don’t!”

He set her down. “Don’t test me,” he warned with a smirk, then dipped his head down and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around him and gave back passionately. After a long moment, he bit her lip and then nipped at it before letting her go. He turned her around and smacked her bottom. “Get ready.”

She shot him a smile, then hurried into the bedroom.

Matt stood by the chair in the corner, holding Vivyka's jacket. Part of him wished that she wanted to come back to him. She was familiar and comfortable. She could handle him. She had been with him when he was a monster, and now she said that she had loved him. He could be better this time. Even before he lost his mark, he had cared about her—he hadn’t been as heartless as he had thought. He cared about her still, more so now that the fog in his mind had cleared. But it was more than that with Sera. He didn’t just care about her, he needed her. He ached without her.

Trying to breathe past the pain that came with the thought of her, he pushed her from his mind and refocused on Vivyka’s jacket. He turned it over and frowned. Vivyka still had good taste, but it was obvious that it was secondhand. She was back to being poor after him. He thought that he should send it to her, but then remembered he didn’t have much money.

He glanced down at the torn pants he was wearing, and wondered if he would be reduced to buying secondhand himself. Frowning, he pushed away the disturbing thought, threw her jacket back into the chair, and went to take his bath.