Evan’s POV
A blinding, hot pain tore through my skull the moment my eyes cracked open.
I lay flat on my back, staring at the exposed wooden rafters of my ceiling, my chest heaving with shallow, ragged breaths. My skin felt hot, feverish, and coated in a thin sheen of cold sweat. My mouth tasted like ash and bourbon.
I blinked against the harsh light bleeding through the tall windows, trying to piece together the blurred, fragmented ruins of the past twenty four hours. After the wreckage at Tiffany’s, I had retreated into the dark, drowning myself in alcohol until my mind went dark.
I squeezed my eyes shut as a wave of suffocating grief crashed over my chest.
I hated myself. I hated every single second of the arrogance that had allowed me to hope. Back in high school, watching Elena fr
