16
The guilt and anguish made it hard for Jack to think, but he soon became aware that he was staring at the high ceiling of the auditorium, a ceiling with floodlights that shone down on the stage where…where his friend's body remained. He felt dead inside. No. Not dead. Worse than dead. Damned.
He sat up.
Jack winced and pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead, groaning in pain. “I'm sorry, Summer,” he murmured in a hoarse voice. “I'm so, so sorry…I don't deserve the gift you've shared with me.”
He got up with a grunt and hunched over with his hands on his knees, shaking his head. The grief was terrible, the revulsion at what he had done – what he had tried to do – but through it all, he could sense that his symbiont loved him.
For reasons he couldn't fathom, Summer loved him.
