“Shhh… Lana, please. You must be in pain. Let me take care of you.”
“What do you care,” she whispered, her voice broken, her breath hitching. “Why do you care now?”
The words hit him with such precision he almost flinched.
He leaned in closer, his voice barely controlled.
“I care… more than you believe.”
She didn’t answer. She simply cried softly against his shoulder as he carried her, each step slow and careful, into the bathroom.
He set her gently on the warm tiles beside the bathtub and knelt before her. His hands shook as he touched the shredded fabric clinging to her trembling body.
“I’m going to remove this,” he murmured, “slowly. If it hurts, tell me.”
She didn’t fight him this time. Maybe she was too drained. Maybe she didn’t have the strength.
He peeled the ruined dress
