I couldn’t help but cry over what had happened. I was sure he didn’t mean to hurt me. Maybe he was just overwhelmed with work, or maybe he had some urgent matters to attend to outside the company. I told myself I’d be okay. I’d distract myself and wait for the pain in my chest to fade, even though it felt impossible at that moment.
I still waited for him though, despite everything. And as I sat there, I couldn’t help but feel foolish, waiting for him to come home. But, when he finally walked in, the faint smell of liquor hit me immediately.
"Dylan! Are you okay?" I called out, my voice barely above a whisper.
He paused for a moment, his eyes catching mine. Then, he noticed me sitting on the sofa, waiting for him. He just realized it now.
"Oh, you’re here. Why are you still awake?" he a
