I had imagined this moment a thousand different ways.

In some versions, Adam screamed. In others, he begged. Sometimes he went quiet in that hollow, terrifying way that meant something inside him had shattered beyond repair.

I had rehearsed the angle of my smile, the tilt of my head, the exact cadence of my voice when I finally told him the truth.

But reality?

Reality tasted better.

I watched it happen from the bed, watched comprehension ripple through the room like a slow-moving plague. Disbelief first. Then hurt. Then something darker, something rawer, carving its way into Adam’s face as if an unseen hand was peeling him open layer by...