"I don't believe you," I say, my heart racing, my palms slick with sweat. "How is that even possible?"

"Well, I may not be a doctor or scientist by profession, but I did study with some of the greats back in the day. Do Albert Einstein, Max Planck, Sir Isaac Newton, or Galileo mean anything to you?" I shrug, wishing he'd stop name-dropping and get on with it already. "So, in the simplest terms, allow me to say that while the antidote alone would've saved him by stopping the receptors from multiplying additional aged and damaged cells, the moment we added your blood, we made sure that any future reintroduction of your DNA will only cause them to go active again, thereby reversing the entire process and killing him. But we don't need to go all Science Channel here, just know that you can never be together again. Never. Understood? Because if you do, Damen dies. And now that I've told you—the rest is up to you."

I stare at the ground, wondering what I've done, how I could've been stupid enough to trust him. Barely listening when he says, "And if you don't believe me, then go ahead, hop on board and give it a try. But when he keels over, don't come crying to me."

Our eyes lock, and just like that day at the lunch tables at school, I'm sucked inside the abyss of his mind. Feeling his longing for Drina, her longing for Damen, his longing for me, my longing for home, and knowing it's all resulted in this. I shake my head, wrenching myself from his grip as hesays, "Oh, look, he's waking! And looking as gorgeous and hunky as ever. Enjoy your reunion, darlin', but remember, don't enjoy it too much!"

I glance over my shoulder, seeing Damen beginning to stir, stretching his body and rubbing his eyes, then I lunge for Roman, wanting to hurt him, destroy him, make him pay for all that he did. But he just laughs and dances out of my way, heading for the door and smiling as he says, ''Trust me, you don't want to do that. You just might need me someday."

I stand before him, shaking with rage, tempted to plunge my fist into his most vulnerable chakra and watch him vanish forever.

"I know you don't believe it now, but why don't you take a moment to think about it. Now that you can no longer cuddle with Damen, you're about to become very lonely, very quickly. And since I pride myself on being the forgiving type, I'd be more than willing to fill your void." I narrow my eyes and raise my fist. "And then—there's the small, inconsequential fact that there just may be an antidote to the antidote—" His eyes meet mine as I suck in my breath. "And since I created it, only I would know for sure. So, the way I see it, you eliminate me, you eliminate any hope of the two of you ever being together. Is that a risk you're willing to take?"

We stand there, the two of us joined in the most hideous way, our eyes locked, unmoving, until Damen calls my name. And when I turn, all I see is him. Returned to his usual splendor as he rises from the futon and I rush to his arms. Feeling his wonderful warmth as he presses his body to mine, gazing at me in the way that he used to—as though I'm the most important thing in his world. I bury my face in his chest, his shoulder, his neck, my entire body thrumming with tingle and heat as I whisper his name again and again, my lips moving across the cotton of his shirt, summoning his warmth, his strength, wondering how I'll ever find the words to confess the horrible thing that I've done.

"What happened?" he asks, his eyes on mine as he pulls away. "Are you okay?"

I glance around the room, noticing Roman and Rayne are both gone. Then I peer into his deep dark eyes as I say, "You don't remember?"

He shakes his head.

"None of it?"

He shrugs. "The last thing I remember is Friday night, at the play. And then after—" He squints. "What is this place? Surely this isn't the Montage?"

I lean into his body as we head for the door. Knowing I have to tell him—sooner rather than later—but wanting to put it off for as long as I can. Wanting to enjoy the fact that he's back—that he's alive and well and we're together again. Heading down the steps and unlocking my car as I say, "You were sick. Very sick. But now you're better. But it's kind of a long story, so—" I shove the key in the ignition, as he places his hand on my knee.

"So where do we go from here?" he asks, as I shift into reverse. Feeling his gaze as I take a deep breath and pull onto the street, determined to ignore the much larger question in his question, when I smile and say, "Anywhere we want. The weekend starts now."