The Scarred Mate He Never Loved
I say as Renz looks ahead through the large transparent glass toward the crowd of doctors in the distance.
“Me too,” he says, his voice tense and fragile. “I can’t imagine Silvermoon without Marvin. I can’t imagine myself, realizing I couldn’t do anything to stop this doom,” he adds, his tone more torn and anxious, as though he is holding back a sob. I lift my eyes toward him, still unwilling to move away from his chest. “You cherish him that much as a friend, don’t you?” I ask Renz, and he replies quietly.
“Who wouldn’t?” he replies, then drops his eyes to meet mine. I can see how bloodshot and withdrawn his gaze has become. He is clearly doing his best to hold back the tears, but his eyes
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