Her gaze locks bitterly on mine. Her eyes flare with a sort of violence as she straightens her spine and wipes the wetness from her face. “I regret nothing,” she whispers causing the heart in my chest to fucking beat against my rib cage for the first time in nearly two damn decades.

I’ve been dead so long, how can one fucking sentence make me feel like I’m burning alive?

“Hm,” my lips murmur as my heart hammers out of control and I attempt to buy time, studying her for the truth I know is hidden deep inside. Gesturing towards her with my smoke, I whisper, “You sure about that?”

“I did what I had to do.”

I place my cig between my teeth and make my way towards the bar. With my back to her, I take one final long drag and set my smoke down in the ashtray before pouring myself another drink. I shoot it back quickly, refilling the glass and cracking my neck from side to side as I watch the amber liquid quickly fill to the brim.

What she had to do cost us both everything. It’s my biggest regret. Losing each other. We’ve both never been the same.

How can she sit there and say she doesn’t regret that?

Unless she’s bluffing. Wanting me to break, become the boy she once held so fucking dear. But it would take more magic than is in all of Neverland to bring him back to life.

I think twice before pouring her a drink as well, but eventually concede against what I know is my better judgment, then turn to make my way back to her.

When I do, she looks to her right and brushes a few strands of her golden hair behind her ear. The ring on her left finger catches my eye, and just like the magic I swore didn’t exist anymore, I fucking feel my heart start to beat again. This time, it hammers against my chest harder than before. The ring reflects in the low light of the sconces on the nearby wall, stunning me, stopping me from moving forward and stealing the breath from my lungs. My heart, though finally beating again, feels pierced, hooked, bleeding out as a coldness rushes through my veins and my jaw clenches in rage.

I thought it was lost.

Why is she still wearing that ring?

“Did you love him?” I blurt out before I can help myself. My thoughts immediately go to the man who took her from me. The man I selfishly hunted down and tore apart, limb by limb, before stealing her away to finish what we started.

She startles, then looks at me with her beautiful blue eyes and considers the question for way too long.

“Did you?”