Chapter Sixty-Seven

Kira

There were no words on earth to describe the degree of sorrow on D'Angelo's face. There was a visible rip across his features, revealing raw grief as if a wound had reopened deep within him.

Gently rubbing circles into his arms and back, I rocked him back and forth while whispering consoling words in his ear.

It didn't work because he pulled away, and all I could do was gaze at him in despair. His spirits sank even lower, and he looked defeated and wretched. This was a huge loss for him, and I feared that he would have to live a lifetime of guilt.

"I killed him," he kept saying to himself. "I fucking killed Grey."

"Don't say that," I shook my head, placing one of my hands against his cheek to wipe away stray tears before they could fall. "That wasn't you, D'Angelo. You couldn't have known that Grey would attempt such an act. Don't feel guilty for being alive. As painful as this may sound, blaming yourself won't bring him back. It'll only lead to resentment and hatred for yourself