THANE'S POV:
I wasn't born yesterday, and I sure as hell wasn't stupid.
There was no world in which I believed a cat had torn her apartment apart like someone having a complete breakdown and left bruises blooming on her skin. Still, I didn’t press. She wasn’t ready to talk, and the last thing I wanted was to push her away.
If she needed to carry her silence, I would carry it with her until she could put it down. I’d wait for her. Always.
The week crawled and sped at the same time. Every day, I noticed little things, how she jumped at small noises, how her eyes flicked toward shadows that weren’t there, how she smiled but her lips trembled after and how dark circles had taken over those beautiful eyes probably from sleeping poorly. It was stress, I told myself. The job, my family, maybe
