Nikolai shook his head, his eyes welling up with tears as he refused to look at me. Guilt stabbed at me again and again. I felt terrified by his implication, but it hurt even more to see him like this. So defeated.
I steeled my resolve even as tears once again threatened to spill over. Blinking them away, I swallowed the lump in my throat and spoke, "This isn’t your fault, Niko. It’s mine. I made a mess of everything."
There was a long, tense silence before he finally responded.
"No," he replied firmly, his voice rough, like he was trying to gain strength. "This isn’t your fault. It’s Desmond’s. And mine, for not being strong enough to stop him."
Silence settled between us again, heavy and suffocating. I wanted to comfort him, but the words wouldn’t come. I was too tired, too broken.
