Our Story, Rebuilt

you call

. I flinched, my fingers tightening around the phone in my pocket. I h

I kept my eyes on the floor, on the cold ma

his presence looming over me, a shadow that had blotted out all the light in my life. He was no

is voice dangerously low. "Yo

same eyes that once looked at me with so much love, but now the

digging into my skin like steel clamps. I gasped in pain as he twisted m

trying to pull away, but

oom. "Let go? After what you did? You don't get to make d

oison he injected into me every single day. I didn't kill her. It was an accident. But h

spine, but I bit my lip to keep from crying out. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. I straightened up slowly, my movement

t and devoid of emotion. I had said it a

history. His face darkened when he saw the unknown number. He look

the city. This penthouse, once our dream home, was now my gil

breaking through my composure.

ly, and he let the phone go. I watched it fall, a tiny black speck

n unreadable. "Now, come here." It

led me to the bedroom, the room that was once filled with our laughter and plans for the future. He pushed me on

after night. I closed my eyes and endured it, my mind detaching from my body. I focused on the dull ache in my back, the stin

, staring at the ceiling. I could feel the tremors runn

nly filled with a raw, broken grief. "She was everything. And you t

d the screams. By the time I got to the balcony, it was too late. But he ha

out of the bed. I walked back into the living room, my bare feet cold against the marble. My eyes landed on a framed photo on the mantelpie

to the window he had just used to destroy my phone. I stared at the photo, at the ghost of the man I loved and the sister w

ife we were supposed to have, it was a

, but he hadn't destroyed the number memorized in my head. He hadn't destroyed my will to su

ould start ag