Cellie’s povI was a terrible, terrible person. A shitty individual, I was no different from Hitler and every other vile human to ever exist. Demetrio sat inches away from me, his face permanently concentrated on the window, appearing indifferent and impassive.But I knew, I’d seen it, the hurt that had cut through his gaze like a butcher’s knife before refracting into my heart, slicing it into halves. I hadn’t thought it was possible, I never looked at Demetrio DeLeon as just a man so it never occurred to me that his feelings could be crushed.I wanted to take back my words, apologize over and over, with my words, with my actions, with my body. He might not be patient or calm or soft-spoken or possess the best temperament, but he always had my best interest at heart. The man had shielded me with his body during an active shootout only for me to liken him with the scum of the earth.Idiot, idiot, idiot.Guilt ate away at my chest like an angry woodpecker. I was indeed a terrible perso
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