Tears clogged my nose and throat as I sat alone in the darkened kitchen staring out at the lights of the city through the tall windows. They were there, so was the kitchen around me, yet none of it registered. My entire body quaked with emotion as I worked to swallow the food and stop the tears. I wasn't certain if my bout of minor hysteria was caused by the cut on my finger, the fact that I was mad at Sterling, or because I was sad that the night had gone to hell.
All of the above was probably the correct answer.
Sitting at the table with a damn paper towel wrapped around my finger, I forced myself to eat. It was my growling stomach that had convinced me to come back down to the kitchen; my pride was why I snuck quietly.
I wasn't ready to face Sterling.
Not after what he'd done—th
