My Freedom Started With His Death
Language: en
The pain in my abdomen was a white-hot blade, rhythmic and unforgiving. It was the exact moment the world splintered—the moment Xander called to tell me he was going to Lydia’s wedding. I tried to tell him. I tried to gasp out the words through the haze of shock, telling him I’d been rear-ended, that my car was a crumpled heap of metal, that I needed him to get me to the ER. He cut me off with a sigh so sharp I could practically feel his irritation through the line. "Izzy, stop it," he snapped. "I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to bait me into staying. I told you, I’m committed to…