The road back to the hotel was almost empty at this hour. The streetlights flashed across the windshield one after the other, painting Nicholas’s face in pale gold each time we passed one.
The car’s engine was the only sound, cutting through the suffocating silence. My fingers were tight on the steering wheel, my gaze flicking from the road to Nicholas in the passenger seat.
Every time I glanced over, every time I looked, Nicholas was the same: his shoulders were curved in, seatbelt cutting across his chest, and his eyes fixed on nothing. He hadn’t said a word since we left the parking lot, since I spilled myself down his throat. He just stared out the window, looking so lifeless.
Guilt ate its way upwards in me, growing bigger with each passing second.
I had gone too far. Way too far.
