Ryker's POV
The bell rang behind me as I stepped out into the cold.
The glass door clicked shut, and the sound felt final in a way that made my chest tighten. My thoughts churned on anyway — restless and jagged and refusing to quiet down no matter how hard I walked.
The air hit sharp and honest in my lungs. Cold made sense; it stung and bit, fulfilling its promise, unlike everything else right now.
I started walking without direction. I just needed to move before I said something or did something that made everything worse, which was apparently my default setting.
Every step crunched through old snow. Hands shoved deep in my jacket pockets, fists clenched, knuckles aching against the fabric.
I couldn't shake her face.
That small frown between her brows. That tiny, controlled crease
