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THIRTY NINE | Hold On Pain Ends

Vladimir—no matter how many times he tried, shook his head or attempted to get his head in the game—failed to stop his mind from racing back to Aurora. His wife, who was supposed to be dead. She was alive. What the fuck?

At first, the shock that arrived with this new piece of information felt like a new, warm wound. It didn’t hurt or sting, just hummed. But gradually, as he allowed his head to coil around the actuality and the betrayal it arrived with, the same wound started to bite and throb. Painstakingly. Making him ache at places he wasn’t even aware he was hurt.

It felt like someone had torn a cardinal part of him and flung it away to decay some place in the sewer. It felt like someone had whacked him to death but didn’t finish the job, leaving him at their charity. It felt like someone had wrung all the air out of his lungs and he couldn’t breathe. He could not breathe. He could not breathe.

A cowardly part of him wished to go back in time and stop himself from doing what he did
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