Darius

Ayla was a mess.

And I was nothing if not extremely worried about her. Like my heart was beating fast with each passing day that she got even more miserable.

The silence in the room was suffocating.

It was the kind of feeling that was going to make me feel uneasy like I didn’t even know when I was going to fucking breathe the wrong way without her fucking crying all over again.

Ayla sat by the window, her eyes blank, shoulders slumped, and her lips was pressed into a tight line.

It ...