Sade’s POV
After pulling myself together, I place my bag on the credenza by the front door. My purse stays clutched in my hands like a lifeline as I make my way to my bedroom on the first floor. My body still shakes with silent sobs, but the flood of tears has slowed to a trickle. The weight in my chest, though—that's still there, pressing down on me like a damn boulder.
I strip out of my clothes and step into the shower, letting the hot water scald my skin as if it can burn away the ache in my soul. My hands press against the tiles, my forehead resting between them as the steam fills the space around me. The water drowns out the sound of my own ragged breathing, but nothing drowns out the memories.
Isla’s voice.
Marco’s touch.
The years I can’t get back.
I stay under the water until
