Logan Reynolds
The sun is already up by the time I open my eyes.
I’m still on the couch. My back aches. My phone is dead. Or maybe I’ve just stopped hearing it. I don’t even know how many times I called her. Texted her. I lost count after twenty. Thirty?
Viola didn’t come home last night.
My mind plays the worst-case scenarios on loop. I try to tell myself she just needed space. She always runs to Amirah when things get heavy. And what could be heavier than finding out the man you love has been lying to you every single day?
Camille had told me. Warned me and she did it. She told Viola before I could. Even though I had all the chances in the world.
God.
I scrub my hands over my face and sit up slowly, still half hoping this has been some long, sick dream.
But the apartment is silent..
She’s gone.
Because of me.
Because I waited too long. Because I convinced myself that protecting her from the truth was better than watching her hurt. Because I was a coward.
And now, I don’t know if she
