Cole went to the lobby and out into the early morning air, his chest growing tighter with every step. Some of the staff waved at him and he waved back, resisting the urge to clench his hand into a fist and begin punching something, someone, anything in his path.
He couldn't go back to his room.
Instead he went along the paved path leading to the riverboat, the construction still going on. Cole forced himself to keep his steps even and short as he studied the changes in an attempt to make it look like he was fine, doing an impromptu inspection of the property. His legs felt like rubber and he caught himself tripping over a non-existent crack in the stones.
You are not fine, his inner voice snapped. Sit before you fall down.
He went along the path to the first wrought-iron bench and sat.
