"Shaman…" I felt terrible.
Resentment and grief were engraved all over his face.
"Please understand—"
"See you around, Katharina. Or probably not."
He had just banged the door when tears rolled down my cheeks. Going to my chamber, I lay down on my mattress, prepared for a good sob that never came.
No more tears came forth, in spite of my various feelings of sorrow and solace. Part of me yearned to phone Shaman back right now, make him return to me; the other part coolly notified I now had obvious motive to cut Gabriel off as soon as possible before things
spread.
Good Lord, why did it look like I was constantly hurting people I looked after? What was it about me that prompt me reiterate this process over and over? Shaman's ruined face still floated in my mind, but I took satisfaction in the proof that he had not been traumatized as much as Kyriakos.
Not virtually as much.
