RYKER'S POV
Everything around me disappeared.
The students sitting at the tables. The brick walls of the library. The rustle of the wind. The distant hum of campus traffic.
All of it faded into a dull, featureless gray.
All I heard was one sentence.
Let's end this.
The words replayed in my mind. Again. And again. And again. Like a broken record, each repetition scratching deeper into my chest, carving out a hollow space that left me cold.
I should've said something.
Anything.
I was Ryker. I always had an answer. I was trained to negotiate, to manipulate text, to turn any corporate or personal crisis into a strategic victory. Words were my currency.
But for the first time in years...
I couldn't find them.
My throat felt completely parched, locked tight by a sudden, violent surge
