KANE'S POV
An hour, that’s probably how long I stayed under the water, maybe more. I only knew because when I finally looked at my hands, my skin was wrinkled like paper left in the rain. Pathetic, sitting there until the water went lukewarm, clinging to it like it could wash her out of my head. It didn’t, nothing ever does.
I stepped out and dried my body off, threw clothes on without thinking, each movement was mechanical. Pull the shirt, tug the pants. Nothing felt right. My chest was still tight, my head still heavy. Pride is a bastard—it keeps me from saying sorry, from walking back to her and fixing it. Instead it leaves me stuck in a stupid silence, that's killing me more than her.
When I opened the door, the room was dark, only the faintest light spilling in from the hallway. My
