How was it possible to fuck up so many goddamn times?
I was so concentrated on my problems and pain that I never even considered Keir might have his own. The stampeding herd of emotions unleashed inside me over the past week had compromised my ability to think clearly. After years of suppression, they were now running wild.
I felt so out of control. So goddamn lost.
And now, I’d hurt the one person trying to help. The man who’d seen my fractured truth beneath the glossy exterior and wanted me anyway.
The shame was too powerful to contain. I was a pulsing ball of pain, wrapped in the chains of my mistakes.
I’d said such hateful things. I didn’t even recognize myself.
I only ever wanted was to do right by the people I cared about, yet I failed repeatedly.
All I could think as I stepped outside onto the deck was that it should have been me. I should have been the twin who died that day.
I deserved to die.
It was all my fault, after all.
All my fault.
Everything was all my fault.
