I used to not care when she looked at me with fear, disgust, or whatever, because at least I was in her eyeline, at least it wassomething.But now…
Now that I knew what it felt like to have her peace, her smile, her hums, her soft eyes, I didn’t want those eyes full of fear back. I didn’t want anything that showed how much she hated me, how much looking at me in the eyeshurther.
I don’t—I don’t want her to look at me like that anymore.
I buried my face in my hands, breath shaking. My throat burned, eyes stung, and I didn’t even bother stopping it this time.
I fucking broke her.
The door beeped, a sharp electronic sound cutting through the quiet.
Then it pushed hard against my back.
I shifted away just enough for it to open, and Alex stood there, framed by the hallway light.
His eyes landed on me immediately, on the mess I was, sitting on the floor like a wreck, and then the white hospital envelope in his hand hit the ground beside me.
The paper inside slid out, fluttering across the marble. I didn’t even need to touch it to read the words.
Fracture. Cast for four to six weeks.
My stomach turned.
Alex didn’t say anything at first. Just stood there, breathing hard, jaw tight, knuckles white around his phone.
“What the fuck did you do, Josh?”
His voice wasn’t angry. Not the kind that explodes. It was quiet, the kind that shakes you.
I didn’t look up. I couldn’t.
My fingers dug into my hair, elbows pressing into my knees. “It was an accident.”
“An accident?” He laughed once, sharp and humourless. “You broke her arm.”
I didn’t defend myself. There was nothing to say. The truth was already loud enough.
Alex exhaled, long and heavy, dragging a hand through his hair before crouching down in front of me. “She cried so hard she could barely breathe. Jennie said she hasn’t stopped shaking since we left the hospital.”
I swallowed hard. My throat felt raw.
“I didn’t—”
But I couldn’t finish. Didn’t deserve to.
Alex stood, grabbed the paper off the floor, and left it on the table before walking out towards the door.
“Four to six weeks, Josh,” he said quietly, his voice carrying the kind of disappointment that burns more than anger. “Don’t even think about going near her.”
The door clicked shut.
My hand was still trembling when I reached for my phone. The screen lit up, too bright against the dark, and her name blinked back at me.
My princess.
It used to make me smirk.
Now it made me sick.
