“To hell with him!”
The words burst from her throat as she hurled the bottle against the wall. It struck with a dull crack, plastic shattering, contents spilling and sliding down the tile in a slow, messy stream.
Another bottle followed.
And another.
The small destruction did nothing to ease the pressure inside her chest.
Instead, a new wave of sobs shook her body, stronger than before. She slid down the wall until she sat beneath the shower, knees drawn close, arms wrapped around herself as if she could hold together what was breaking apart inside.
Water and tears mingled until she could not tell them apart.
For the first time in a long time, Lana felt utterly defenseless — stripped of charm, wit, confidence, and strategy.
There had been no game tonight.
No flirting.
No performa
