°Jeremy’s POV°
After I’d killed her…
Even thinking those words still feels like swallowing glass.
The first few weeks after it happened, I couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror. The reflection didn’t feel like mine anymore. It was like staring at a stranger wearing my skin, someone who’d ruined everything good that ever tried to love him.
I don’t remember much from that night after she fell. Her gasps, the smell of her blood, and the sound of my own breathing….it all blurs together now. What I do remember, though, is waking up alone the next morning, cold and shaking, with her name still stuck in my throat.
It’s been a year since then. A whole year, and the pain hasn’t dulled. It just… changed shape.
These days, it’s quieter. It doesn’t claw at me like it used to. It just sits
