ALEX’S POV
I don’t make it to the end of the street before my anger starts to rot from the inside. It drains out of me slowly, leaving something far worse behind.
Regret, It settles in my chest like wet cement, heavy and suffocating, making every breath feel earned. My pace slows. The night air presses against my skin, sharp and undeservedly calm for the chaos clawing through me.
I replay it again, Lavender’s face, not the way she looked at him, but the way she didn’t look at me, no anger, no defiance, no guilt, just exhaustion. I stop beneath a streetlamp, the light flickering as if even it is uncertain. My hands tremble when I shove them into my pockets.
She was pale, too pale. Her shoulders had been slumped, her posture guarded, her hand unconsciously drifting toward her abdomen as
