**Kait**

The weight of what I’ve done sinks in slowly, the world tilting on its own accord, my legs providing no stability.

I can’t breathe. The air is too thick, and my body heavy, but I run my fingers through my hair and let the soap run down my body and into the drain.

Steam rises from the top of the shower. I can see it collecting on the mirror, fogging the image of the man who stands there, toothbrush in hand.

I turn the water off and open the curtain, ...