(GRAYSON'S POV)
"DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH ME!" Monica screams at the top of her lungs.
I jerk back instinctively. Her eyes are swollen and red, tears streaking down her cheeks, and she looks at me like I'm something poisonous crawling across her floor. I try to reach for her anyway.
"Monica, please—"
She snatches the vase off the side table so fast I barely see it move and she throws it. It smashes at my feet and the shards explode across the tiles. Pieces skitter under the coffee table; one ricochets and hits the leg of an overturned armchair. There are throw pillows on the floor, picture frames knocked crooked, one lying face-down with a cracked pane. I flinch back, putting my hands up, my heartbeat racing a thousand miles per second.
"Stay away from me," she spits. "Don't come anywhere near me."
"Monica," I choke out, my voice breaking. "Honey, please, just—"
She slaps me so hard my ears start ringing. My head whips sideways and I can taste blood in my mouth.
