Robert.
"Fuck!"
The word ripped out of me, low and vicious, the second I crossed the threshold into the empty guest room. It wasn't enough. Nothing was enough. I slammed the door shut behind me and braced both hands against the wall as if it were the only thing holding me upright.
My fist lashed out before I could stop it, bone meeting plaster with a dull, thudding crack. Pain shot up my knuckles, sharp and immediate, but nowhere near strong enough to quiet the storm in my head. I pressed my forehead to the cool surface of the wall, breathing hard, trying to get air into lungs that felt like they had shrunk.
"You're an asshole, Robert," I hissed under my breath, the words shaking with anger I aimed at no one but myself. "How could you… what the hell is wrong with you?"
The image of her beneath me, soft, trusting, wanting me, burned behind my eyelids like a brand.
I squeezed my eyes shut harder.
