I didn't have a fucking clue.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Iris
I wake up with a familiar headache. An I've been crying all night, my body is deprived of sleep, salt, and water headache.
Coffee and sugar only make it worse.
I'm a zombie at school. I absorb nothing in my classes. I fumble over walking undergrads through experiments. I stare at the results without a clue as to what they mean.
Work is the only thing that makes sense to me.
And even that is fuzzy.
* * *
A long walk helps. The pounding fades to a dull ache. My thoughts settle. The world comes into focus.
I manage to sleep. To get up on time. Shower. Eat breakfast. Drink coffee. Pretend to pay attention at school.
I even make it to the gym. And manage to read a little.
But, all day, I think of him.
He might hate me.
He might never want to see me again.
But then he might not.
He might forgive me.
He might still care about me.
I wait until I'm home. Until I'm fed and showered and ready for bed.
And I text him.
Iris: I'm sorry.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Walker
My phone buzzes against the end table.
Fuck. I thought I turned that off.
Who the hell is texting at this hour?
I squeeze my eyes shut. Rub my temples. My head is still aching. It's been aching nonstop for days. Ever since I saw Iris's heartbreak written all over her face.
I did that.
But she—
Fuck.