Silence.
Thick, suffocating silence hangs between us.
Caspian is watching me from his place on the couch, elbows resting on his knees, fingers loosely clasped together, looking like he’s waiting for me to explode after his quiet apology.
Maybe he’s right to. The air in the room is charged, and I’m barely holding myself together.
I sit on the edge of the bed, my arms folded tightly across my chest, trying to keep myself from shaking—not with fear, but with rage.
I shouldn't be shaking at all, not when I'm the one who's angry, but every inch of my body is coiled so tightly that I feel like I might snap.
He was the one who left me to drown in the mess he created and what does he have to say?
Sorry?
I think I need more than that, don't you think?
"You don’t know, do you?" I finally b
