I don't know how long I sit curled up on the floor crying my lungs out, but my eyes feel sore and the tears that poured out in torrents have now slowed down.
The door swings suddenly swings open and the scent of roses flood the room, wrapping around me, invading my senses.
My fingers twitch at my sides. I don’t need to turn around to know that Caspian is the one strolling into the room.
I wipe at my face quickly, dragging my sleeve over my cheeks, hoping—praying—I can erase any trace of the tears.
My heart pounds as I frantically brush at the puffiness under my eyes, willing them to return to normal.
I don't want to seem pathetic. I can't let him see me broken down like this.
"You didn’t come in early," he says.
His voice is smooth, but there’s something underneath it—something sh
