Kane POV
She slammed the door in my face.
And locked it.
I didn't blame her.
I didn't knock. I didn't beg. I just stood there for a while, forehead pressed to the wood, listening to the sound of her body sliding down the other side.
Then the sobbing started again.
Not soft. Not muffled.
Raw.
Unfiltered agony.
She screamed into the floor, into her arms, into her fists. Over and over again.
"Dean…"
My eyes burned. I clenched my jaw until it hurt. I wanted to break something. I wanted to break myself.
But all I did was sit down outside her door. Back to the wall. Knees bent. Hands dangling uselessly over them.
There was nothing else I could do.
She screamed until her voice cracked, until it turned hoarse and broken.
And I stayed.
She whispered his name like a prayer, like a curse, like an apology that would never be heard. I could hear her pacing, hitting the wall, maybe throwing things—then collapsing again.
I couldn't stand it.
But I wouldn't leave.
