“Let me in, beautiful,” he rasps.
“I can’t,” I sob.
“Yeah, you can, come on. Or I’m taking the door off the hinges.”
I lean on the wall and sob, my body trembling.
A groan slips under the door before he walks away.
Panic swells. He left so easily.
I pad back into the shower and sit in the corner, hugging my knees as I drop my head, hiding my face from the world.
It’s too much today. I doubt I’ll survive it.
Flashes of two children huddled behind their insufficient defense against the fire slip through my mind. A wail leaves my chest, ripping past my lips. The sound echoes, and I let it hit for a second time, shattering my heart.
The door jostles, the clink of tools on the other side telling me Miles is back. And when a large hand wraps around each end of the door, lifting it from the hinges effortlessly, my last breath falters.
The door to the bathroom is closed.
He sets the cubicle door down. Now in clean navies, he closes the space between us and kneels in front of me. His blue eyes study my face as his jaw feathers.
I scrunch my face up, tamping back the swell in my throat.
I hold my breath.Like that will save me.
“Give it to me, London. Lay it on me.”
I—
Sobs tumble out. Ugly, horrid sounds that won’t fucking stop.
He reaches for me, and I don’t move. I can’t. Every muscle is tight, aching, and unable to move.
He shifts to his seat and hauls me into his lap.
My hands curl around the neckline of his T-shirt.
I wail.
I scream.
Until my throat is screaming back, pain lining every sound leaving me.
When sound is no longer an option, I pound my fists into his chest.
“Why?” I say on a raspy whisper.
He shakes his head, tears lining his blues.
His jaw is so tense it looks set to implode.
“How could anyone do that to their babies? How!?”
His head dips, his eyes meeting my crazed gaze. “I don’t know. I have no idea what it takes to leave a chi—” He groans, a pained and ragged sound. “There’s no explanation that will ever be good enough.”
I tilt my head as my face breaks all over again.
