Anton's POV
The moment my bedroom door clicked shut, everything I had just said to Ximena hit me like a freight train.
I stood frozen in the darkness, my chest rising and falling rapidly, adrenaline still coursing through my veins from the fight downstairs. The distant hum of the television drifted up through the floorboards, mixing with the oppressive silence that seemed to fill every corner of our house. The same house that somehow managed to feel suffocating and empty all at once.
I slammed my fist against the door frame, not hard enough to damage anything, but enough to feel the sharp bite of pain across my knuckles. It was nothing compared to the hollow ache that had taken up permanent residence in my chest.
What the hell was wrong with me?
I had no right to explode at her like that. Ximena didn't deserve my anger, even if everything inside me felt like it was spinning out of control.
