As Stryker stood outside of Sam's house, the neat little structure looking storybook perfect in the lazy, overhanging light, he felt like he was drowning.

It was over thirty degrees and there was no open source of water for miles, but he felt like he was drowning.

Feelings, they were as relentless as the ocean's current, bulldozing his insides, wreaking havoc on the cage of bones that protected his heart. He had tried telling himself all morning that there was no part of him left that still cared for the other man, but that wasn't necessarily true.

It was tearing him apart to admit it, but there would always be...