~Tiara
The sound of shattering glass jolted me from my thoughts, and I stared at the broken vase on the floor, fragments scattering like my emotions. My heart pounded as I glanced toward the bathroom door, half expecting him to storm out. Moments earlier, I’d felt him staring at me while I slept, his gaze lingering, soft yet piercing, making me feel vulnerable in a way I despised.
When he finally went into the bathroom, the anger surged again. Sarah. Her name was a dull ache in my chest, a reminder of why I was here.
I couldn’t stand it. The pain, the helplessness—it all boiled over. I needed to act. My eyes darted around the room, desperate for something, anything to use. My gaze fell on a flower vase perched on the dresser. Without thinking, I grabbed it, my hands trembling.
But
