Chapter 11
The study was dark when Bruce returned, though he hadn’t bothered to draw the curtains. The echoes of Alec’s words still rang in his head, replaying with the sting of a wound that refused to close.
You cannot continue to sit in a house that does not belong to you.
He poured a drink before even taking off his jacket. The amber liquid slid into the glass with a sound that felt too loud in the silence. He lifted it, swallowing hard, not for the taste but for the burn. The burn reminded him he was still here, still fighting, though the ground beneath him was giving way.
On the desk, his phone buzzed once. He stared at it, unwilling to touch it, unwilling to read the words he already knew were waiting. When he finally reached for it, his hand trembled faintly.
You never told me
