Tom McCarthy’s POV
“What the hell did I do…”
My voice came out rough, barely more than a whisper, as I stared at the ceiling.
My head was pounding loud, my throat dry.
I could still smell the beer as it hit me before I even sat up, and when I finally dragged myself into a sitting position, the sight in front of me made it worse.
There were empty bottles on the floor and one still clutched loosely in my hand like I had passed out before finishing it.
“ Pathetic.“ I let out a slow breath, running a hand down my face. “You’ve really outdone yourself this time Tom,” I muttered, my chest tightening.
But it wasn’t the hangover that hurt.
It was the pain of losing her.
“I messed up,” I said out loud, the words bitter on my tongue.
“No. That wasn’t strong enough. I destroyed it,” I corr
