Ryder

When she whispered “I will”, it felt like a secret she wasn’t supposed to share.

The two small words, and they hit me harder than a kick from a spooked horse. My chest tightened. I could feel my pulse hammering in my throat, in my wrists, everywhere. For years I’d been numb down there—cold, useless, like part of me had died and nobody noticed. Doctors called it stress, trauma, or whatever bullshit label fit the bill. I called it punishment. Then Lila showed up, all wide eyes and city softness, and one accidental touch in the dark hallway last night had cracked something open. Just like that. Hard again....