(Damian)
I didn’t sleep much. Kept staring at the ceiling, thinking about her. Wondering if she cried again. If she still hated me. My chest felt tight the whole night. I kept playing it over in my head. Me locking her in. Her yelling. That look in her eyes. The way she told me I never had her.
It hurt more than I thought it would.
Morning came fast. I got dressed for work, but I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I poured a cup of coffee and didn’t touch it. My hand rested on the hallway wall as I stood outside her door.
I wanted to knock. Wanted to see her. Say something. Anything.
I lifted my hand.
Paused.
Then let it drop.
She probably didn’t want to see me. Not yet. Maybe not ever. So I turned around and walked away.
Work was waiting. And I had things to handle.
I got in the
