ASHLEY'S P.O.V

I sat in a pool of shredded white satin.

The pieces of the dress lay haphazardly on the floor, just like the pieces of my shattered heart. There was nothing inside that place anymore, no beat, no life.

Nothing.

“Fool” I cursed. Him, myself, both of us. My eyes were hot, my temperature was burning up, and my tongue tasted acidic.

“Stupid fool.” My haunted curses echoed through the darkness of the Briarwood. Yes, like Genevieve had so many times implied, I was a ...