“This looks so much like you,” she said to Noah, pressing her body against his. “My girl is talented,” Noah said.

“I was made for you, Mara.”

“Forget Mara,” he says, as the room begins to darken. The next words I hear are the last ones I remember, before everything goes black. “Both of them.”

I might’ve thrown Mara away, but I haven’t let her go. Not really. Not yet.

“Two tickets on the next flight to London,” I say. “Whatever it takes.”

My heart would break if it weren’t filled with happiness. Her voice is the same. It’s home.

I love you. Today. Tonight. Tomorrow. Forever. If I were to live a thousand years, I would belong to you for all of them. If I were to live a thousand lives, I would want to make you mine in each one.

You are an ocean away at a café on Fulton Street. We’ve been there together, I know the address and the name. But you aren’t with me. And I miss you. You are missing from me.

“He could never use you. You own him. You should’ve seen the way he was looking at you while you were out.” I smiled a little. “How?” “Like you’re the ocean and he’s desperate to drown.”

“Password protected.” “You can’t crack it?” “Nope.” “Can I try?” “No luck?” “No, I got it,” he said. His voice was weird. “Really?” I felt a nervous thrill in my stomach. “What was it?” Jamie hesitated before he spoke. Then he said, “Marashaw.”

How many other people had died because Mara thought they deserved it? “Is anything ever your fault?” “Yes. Your father.” “What about him?” “I killed him.”

You are not mine. You never were mine.

“You were planned, Noah. Engineered.”Noah practically radiated frustration. “For what?” “To be the hero,” David said, looking at Noah like he was his greatest disappointment. “To slay the dragon. But you fell in love with it instead.”

Mara, If your story was a memoir, then mine is a confession. My confession is that I regret it. I never thought it was possible. I didn’t think there would ever be a day, a moment, a second, when I would look back and wish I’d never met you, but that is my every moment, now.

“No great loss.” “No. But you were.”

I would tie stones to the memories of you and drown them before tying myself to you again. I would beg for nothingness, pray for blankness, but there’s no one to beg. I know no God but you.

They were good people. Brave. Selfless. Heroes, really. Would I trade one of them to have Noah back? Would I trade all of them to have him back? I was stripped of all illusions, about this and myself. I knew without thinking that the answer was yes.

I want her to split me open, to dig her fingers in and pry open my ribs, lick my heart and my blood and my bones. Pick open my bones and suck out the marrow. I want to be devoured by her. And she wants to devour me just as badly. It’s in every look, every movement, every smile.

Noah was like the Velveteen Rabbit. I would love his whiskers off, love him until he turned gray, until he lost shape. I would love him to death. And he would let me. Gladly.

“Mara is what I want most,” I say to Isaac, meeting his gaze, holding it for dear life. “She’s what I want most in the world.”