Somehow in the back of your mind, you always knew that when the game was over it would be your fault.
"But it isn’t over. Is it?" Gentil’s heart flipped down and then up into his throat as he tensed.
Oh stop panicking. You know as much as I do. But when your perfect lover finds out it likely will be.
"I only just talked! Heavens, you make it sound like I was selling my soul or something."
His Warlock parent was right. You are far too important to be taking risks like that. That family is invested in you whether you want to believe it or not.
Gentil sighed and sat back in the seat, spreading the last of the lotion on his healing hands. “None of you even understand the reason I had to talk to him. Did you see him? He was still holding on to things for nostalgia’s sake and after I thought he’d all but dismissed that I even existed.”
So what was the point in it?
Gentil sighed and rested his hands on the towel, looking out the windows of the sun room. “It’s this dark memory that has been looming over me. Being married to him even for the entirety of a year was quite trying and yet I overcame and found myself. I put myself under his shadow for two years of my new life.”
How ironic then, that when Darnath finds out what you did he will no longer be yours.
"I didn’t do anything!" Gentil stood up and paced. "I only wanted to show myself that I didn’t need to be afraid of my ex-husband anymore! I only stood twenty feet away from him the entire time and basically told him I’d already moved past the pain. That I’m a better person!"
If only it was so easy…
Gentil sighed and leaned against the glass, closing his eyes. Zaerindar’s acquaintance asked if he would talk with the mage. Gentil agreed, knowing that it was likely one of the most anxiety-inducing things he’d done in months. He’d needed to know… didn’t everyone need to feel that closure when a loved one left without final words? Didn’t they think he was strong enough?
In his own way he was relieved that he did it. That if Darnath hated him for it, he could at least take a little bit of comfort in the knowledge that he’d spoken to the darker elf and he hadn’t been afraid. It was proof to himself that he really wasn’t entirely the little mouse he’d been three years ago. Gentil was stronger now. Gentil had changed for the better.