"I didn't mean to," I said, crying.
The words came out broken, barely audible, as though my throat could not handle the weight of them. My chest hurt with every breath, tight and sharp, like I was being punished for still being alive. I couldn't stop shaking. My hands were cold, numb, yet my skin felt unbearably hot at the same time. I didn't know where to put myself. I didn't know how to exist in my own body anymore.
"It's okay," Jamie said, trying to calm me down.
His voice was soft, careful, the way people spoke when they were afraid that raising their tone might cause something fragile to shatter. His arms were around me, grounding but not tight, as if he was scared of hurting me just by holding on. I
"I didn't want to," I explained, crying harder. "Andrew said I should."
