Jake didn't remember leaving Bella's house. He didn't remember getting into his car. He didn't even remember starting the engine.
All he remembered was the deafening sound of the door closing behind him and the way Bella's voice, shaking, breaking, and tearing, echoed through his skull like a haunting he couldn't outrun.
When he finally stumbled into his penthouse, the silence hit him first; cold, sharp, merciless.
He shut the door behind him and leaned his forehead against it, exhaling a long, shuddering breath. His hands trembled. He squeezed them into fists, trying to steady himself, but the tremor only worsened.
He expected to feel justified. He expected anger to stay. He expected the betrayal he thought he'd felt to carry him through the night.
But instead… all he felt was a dull, throbbing ache in the center of his chest.
His mind replayed the scene like a broken recording.
Bella standing there, her eyes bright with tears.
