Isabella's Point of View
Kyle stood watching at me, her eyes all over the room.
The air between us felt thick, making it hard to take in, thick with unspoken words, but I refused to be the one to break, I didn't have the strength to do it either.
I tightened my grip on the nightstand, holding myself in the solid wood under my fingers.
The cold edge bit into my palm, reminding me that I was still here, that I wasn't lost in the wreckage Ryan had left behind.
Kyle's dark eyes raced over my face, searching, but I didn't let her find anything, I kept my face straight and my eyes low, I wasn't used to the
"You should go," I said again, my voice firmer this time.
She exhaled slowly, the muscle in her jaw tightening before she stepped back. "Fine."
The word was clipped, almost bitter, but she turned and walked toward the door.
