Chapter Text
Tris threw the chair off the ledge, the sharp sound of wood breaking against the pavement below echoing in her chest. She wiped her eyes, but they stung too much to hold back the tears. Looking down at the shattered chair, she thought about the day she had sat in it—when the Candor had forced her to face every dark corner of herself with that cruel truth serum. The chair was nothing now, just broken wood. Just like her.
Her gaze wandered out over the ledge, and a thought crept into her mind like a shadow, heavy and cold. What if she stepped off the side, too? Would the fall be fast? Would it hurt? Or would it be a dream—the kind where she wakes up in her mother's arms, safe from everything?
Tris sat down on the edge, her legs dangling over the side. She leaned forward slowly, testing the air with her feet, as though searching for the release the fall might bring. Her hands gripped the stone beneath her, but they weren't sure what they were holding on to anymore.
What would it feel like to let go?
The thought clung to her like a weight. The idea of giving in—of disappearing into nothingness—felt tempting. But then she thought of her mother's face: gentle and kind, full of warmth. Her mother had always made everything seem simpler, softer, when Tris was too lost in her own head to find her way.
But if she took the leap, her mother's sacrifice would have been for nothing. Could she really do that?
A voice cut across the thoughts in her mind.
"Tris, what are you doing?" Tobias's voice was laced with a mix of worry and a little bit of anger.
Her body tensed as if jolted out of a daze. She hadn't even heard him coming.
"Tris, come down!" he called again, urgency creeping into his voice.
"I am okay, Tobias," she replied. She heard his grunt as he climbed up to the ledge behind her.
"What are you doing?" he asked again, glancing at the chair below. "No, Tris, don't." There was more anger now in his voice.
"I don't want to," Tris cried, her voice breaking. "But I can't keep doing this! You hate me. Everyone I loved—or who loved me—is dead!" She dropped her head into her hands.
Tobias inched closer, trying not to scare her. "I don't hate you. I love you with all my heart," he said urgently, his voice trembling. "But you have to stop doing things like this," he whispered.
Tobias slowly sat down behind her, careful not to startle her. He kissed the back of her neck, then gently up to her jawbone, his lips soft against her skin. She leaned into him.
"I love you too. I just don't know what to do," Tris said, looking at him. "I'm breaking, and I don't know how to pull myself together."
"Just come down, and we can talk about this more," he urged gently. He reached for her hand, brushing the back of it with his thumb. Tobias felt a huge weight lift as she didn't fight him when he tugged her away from the edge, her hand slowly relaxing in his.
Tobias grabbed her small hips and lifted her back down into the large auditorium where the Candor held meetings. Now that Tris was no longer on the window ledge, the shock of what had just happened set in. She had really been considering it. Would she have jumped if he hadn't found her in time?
"Are you okay now?" Tobias asked, tucking a strand of her short hair aside.
"Yes," she whispered, her voice raw. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. I was being dumb."
"You are anything but dumb. You're the smartest girl I know," Tobias said, smiling at her.
She reached up to his jawline. Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed him hard on the lips. Tobias kissed her back. Tris's hands slid under his shirt and traced the tattoos across his skin. Tobias hooked his thumbs under the waistband of her black pants. He kissed her jaw, then trailed up to her ear.
"Not everyone who loves you is gone."
And their lips touched again.