Rhysand
I made my way to my room and shut the door behind me. Leaning against the closed door, I willed my beating heart to calm down. The talk with Margaret had left me feeling worse than before.
Things between us had been borderline hostile, which was solely my fault. Margaret had shown me nothing but kindness and understanding, but my anger toward Sandra's betrayal had left me with unresolved trauma.
Our talk tonight had unveiled a part of her I had been pushing away for far too long. Margaret meant me no harm—there was a possibility that she liked me and, to a certain degree, understood me. The thought left me reeling with guilt that I couldn't explain.
"Ahhh, I don't want to think about this," I exhaled, pushing away from the door as my hand tugged at my tie.
Why wasn't Margaret
