David
The pounding in my head was relentless, each throb echoing like a drumbeat in an empty chamber. I groaned, dragging a hand over my face as I blinked into the darkness. My mouth tasted bitter, my throat dry. Slowly, the events of last night trickled back into my mind, each memory sharp and unforgiving.
The bed was a mess—sheets twisted and damp, a stark reminder of my loss of control. I sat up, my chest tightening as fragments of the night pieced themselves together. Laura’s voice, her tears, her pleas. My stomach churned, and I pressed my fists against my temples, trying to block it out, but it was useless.
What had I done?
Panic set in as I turned to the empty side of the bed. Laura wasn’t there. My pulse quickened, and my breath came in short gasps. Had she left? Had she run aw
