“I’ll go start the water.” He bounded from the bed, a grin on his face.

“Wait,” I called after him. When he stopped, I smiled sheepishly. “Bring me my heart?”

He nodded, but appeared confused. While I waited for him to return, I rolled onto my side and waggled my fingers at the goldfish in the bowl. Before, I’d considered his three-second memory span a curse, believing that developing a new outlook on life so often would always end badly.

At the time, I’d never imagined that things might get better with each three-second change, just like I’d never considered becoming a vampire could turn out for the better.

Nathan entered the room, holding the steel box he’d purchased to keep my heart safe. Inside, it was wrapped in layers of gauze and cloth and bubble wrap, and it rested in a nest of foam packing peanuts. Only Max had been privy to the careful packaging, because I’d still been healing from the injuries Cyrus had inflicted on me. Since Nathan had padlocked the box shut and thrown away the combination, I had to take Max’s word that it was safe.

Nathan handed the precious package to me, his hands shaking. I smiled. “It’s okay. Cyrus’s heart survived all those years in a wooden box. Too bad it didn’t splinter and kill him.”

Nathan cleared his throat and gestured to the box. “What did you want with this?”

I took a deep breath. “I wanted to give it to you.”

“No.”

“Hear me out.” I pressed the box into his hands. “It’s staying with you. Not because you’re my sire. Not because of the blood tie. I’m going to stay with you because I trust you. With my life.”

He looked away. “You know what I did.”

“I do.” Marianne’s screams and pleas now haunted me, as well. “But I trust you.”

Tears shone in his eyes, but they didn’t fall. “Thank you. But I can’t trust myself.”

Later, when the sun had risen and Nathan slept at my side, I took his hand in mine. He’d started wearing his wedding ring again, either as a signal to me to forget about him or as an eternal punishment to himself. I guessed it was the latter.

But his self-inflicted penance was unnecessary. The Soul Eater was still out there, the Movement would soon enough learn of Nathan’s defection, and God knew what else lurked on the horizon. I felt pretty confident that there was plenty of stuff out there to beat us down without his guilt having to plague us.

But I wasn’t going anywhere.

I opened the drawer of his nightstand and slipped the box inside. I thought about my parents, and for the first time since their accident, I allowed myself to forgive myself. I’d come so far that I no longer recognized the person I used to be. I’d turned down the blind admiration and devotion Cyrus had offered me. I’d rejected his promises of power without consequence, because I now knew that a life without consequences was meaningless. And though I’d done things I wasn’t proud of, I didn’t regret them. In that regard, I was possibly stronger than Nathan.