The bitter reality

Maxwell's POV,

The slap echoed through the air, the sound ricocheting off the walls and reverberating in my ear. I felt the sting on my cheek, a burning sensation that quickly turned to a dull ache. I looked up at her, my mouth agape in shock and disbelief. Some of our coworkers who had seen what happened were whispering and pointing, and I felt the blood rush to my face in embarrassment. I had never been hit before, not even by my parents as a child. But as I looked at her, I knew I was to blame for her actions. I had hurt her, and now I had to try to make it right.

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. What could I possibly say to make this better? How could I explain what had happened, when I barely understood it myself? I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart and clear my head,

"I'm so sorry," I finally managed to say, my voice barely a whisper,

"I never meant to hurt you." I looked at her, pleading with my eyes for forgiveness. But her expression rem