-POV Derby
The city lights outside my window looked the same as they had on the first night I followed Jordan out of that bar — cold, endless, indifferent to the destruction happening inside this apartment. I stood with my forehead pressed against the glass, the cool surface grounding me while everything inside me felt like it was on fire. My hands trembled at my sides. My chest ached with a pain that had become familiar, almost comforting in its constancy. I knew how this ended.
I had always known.
From the moment I woke up in his bed the morning after that first reckless night, I had known. I had seen the expensive watch on his wrist, the tailored suit hanging on the chair, the quiet power that radiated from him even in sleep, and I had understood that one night with Jordan Vasquez wo
