I don't remember the last time I cleaned the house. I'm afraid I might sweep away what little remains of you. Your scent still lingers in the corners, faint but stubborn. Some nights, I swear I hear your voice echo through the walls… softer now, fading with time. So, I stopped letting people in. I dismissed the maids. I stopped speaking to anyone.
Lazarus still visits. Whether I want him to or not. Miles… we've never seen eye to eye, despite being twins. Thank the heavens we don't look alike. Mother comes more often than I expect. She never knocks. Never speaks. But I feel her. Standing by my door while I pretend to sleep. Waiting. Hoping. Sometimes she stays for hours. And when she finally leaves, I feel it… the gentle press of her lips against my forehead. A silent goodnight. I'm always grateful for that.
Father came once. Four hundred days after you left. He looked older. Greyer in his hair, more weight in his silence. He said "I looked like a mess". But it didn't bother me.
"Your brother wishes to marry," he said.
"Who is he marrying?"
"I haven't seen her yet," he replied. "But he says she's… nice."
"Okay."
"You must attend."
"Okay."
And just like that— Our first conversation in four hundred days ended. Strangely… I was glad we had spoken at all.
****************
I don't know how many days passed after that. I lost count of the days but somehow, I know exactly how many days I have spent without you, four hundred and twenty agonizing empty feeling.
When it was finally the day of the wedding. I stood in the same hall I once stood in not so long ago, dressed in a blue robe that felt heavier than it should. I tried not to think about you. Tried not to let my mind drift back to memories that refused to stay buried. Instead, I forced a smile at passing maidens, their laughter light, their dresses daring—And then I stopped. I could almost see you. That look you used to give me. Disapproving. Amused. I looked away immediately.
Mother noticed me and smiled, relief softening her face. I walked over and pulled her into a brief embrace. I missed her. Not as much as I missed you. But she understood. We took our seats.
I was already bored…counting moments until I could return home… back to the silence… back to you.
Then—Miles walked in.
Confident.
Smiling... Too confident. I felt it immediately. That grin. He was up to something. He always was.
"I apologize for the delay," he said smoothly. "We may begin the ceremony"
The lights dimmed and silence engulfed us. Eerily, and his bride entered. Something in my chest tightened. I ignored it and the ceremony continued. Words were spoken. Vows exchanged. I barely heard any of it but my curiosity kicked in i suddenly wanted to see her. To see the woman who had managed to capture his attention if not the devil in himself.
The priest spoke again—something final. I didn't listen.
Then—The veil. Slowly… Miles lifted it. And time—Stopped. The world fell silent. As if not loud enough My thoughts- gone, for the first time in days my mind was silent. No inner voices just gone. My breath—gone.
That face.
That was your face. My blood ran cold. The room began to blur at the edges. Distantly, I saw Father move—heard the sharp crack of a slap as his hand struck Miles across the face amidst my confusion Mother was suddenly beside me, her hands gripping my arm, pulling me away.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
I didn't stop her. Didn't fight. Didn't speak. I just… let myself be led away. Because if I stayed— I didn't know what I would do.
"I'm really sorry" she whispered again sadly.
***************
Father's voice shook the walls.
"What kind of nonsense is this?!"
Even now, his anger carried weight. As the god of weather, his emotions could shape storms—but today, he held it in. Barely. The wedding had been cut short. Not that it mattered. Miles was already married. If anything, this felt planned. Deliberate.
"Father," Miles said from across the room, far from me—wisely out of reach. "All I wanted was to get married. You ruined my day.
"I allowed you to marry," Father snapped. "But why would you bring back your brother's dead wife's face?!"
"They just look alike"
Father's fist slammed into the table, splintering it instantly.
"I banned you from learning magic from Liam for a reason! And now this? What are you trying to do—create clones?!"
"That's not fair—"
"Do not talk back to your father," Mother cut in sharply. "Not when you are clearly in the wrong."
"All I did was find a woman I liked… and she just happened to look like my brother's dead ex-wife. What did that have to do with magic?
"Does that mean you secretly loved my wife, Mike?"
The words came out colder than I expected, but I couldn't swallow them back. Not after what I'd just learned. The pieces were aligning too neatly.
"What—?" he started.
"Oh, spare me," I cut in. "Keep your hypocrisy to yourself. Did you admire her that much? Enough to… recreate her?" I felt my patience thinning, thread by thread. "Is that what you've been doing down there? In your little basement… with Uncle Liam?"
Mike didn't answer immediately. He just looked at me, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes.
"Does it bother you, Levi?" he said finally. "That I can have the same thing as you?"
A bitter laugh escaped me. "No. Not at all. I've always been open to sharing." I leaned back slightly, watching him. "In fact, I like it when you chase what's mine. It means I have good taste."
His jaw tightened. "You're unbelievable," he muttered, standing. "Even when your world is falling apart, you still manage to sound arrogant."
"Maybe," I said quietly. "But at least I know my limits. I know when to stop wanting things I can't have."
He paused at the door, just for a second. "That doesn't make you better," he said without turning back. "That's how losers think."
Then he walked out.
And just like that, the room felt too small for the anger left behind.