Lennox's POV
Olivia shook her head so fast it looked like she was trying to shake the pain out of her body. Then she suddenly dropped to her knees.
"No," she cried, her voice trembling. "No, Lennox… I didn't move on…"
Her hands pressed against her chest as tears poured down her cheeks.
"The marks… they were because I had a complicated delivery," she whispered shakily. "The healers said I needed the father's mark to stay alive… and to keep the babies alive. I didn't move on. I never moved on from you."
My chest tightened. Complicated delivery? She almost died—and I wasn't there. I wasn't beside her. I wasn't holding her hand. I wasn't protecting her. I wasn't comforting her. Pain hit my heart so fast I didn't know how to breathe.
I stared down at her—this woman kneeling in front of me, shaking, crying, trying to explain something she should never have had to explain this way—and something inside me cracked.
