I walk back to the table we sat at earlier.
The place is empty now.
Much like my soul.
I don’t even remember sitting down—just the feeling of the wood under my palm, the sharp sting of splinters grounding me in a world that no longer makes sense. I grab the bottle of tequila and lift it to my lips, swallowing half of it like it’s water. Like maybe it’ll burn enough to carve out the ache still gnawing through me.
I hand the rest to Caden. He doesn’t flinch, just takes it wordlessly and passes it around to whoever’s left standing. No one speaks. No one dares to.
Then we head inside.
Caden lifts me into his arms like I weigh nothing. I don’t fight it. I don’t even blink. My head drops to his shoulder, limp and heavy like it’s too much effort to hold it up anymore. I feel nothing. Just t
