Lucan trudges toward me, his shoulders sagging with a weight that seems to cling to every inch of him. For a moment, I thought he’s finally going to listen to me. But as he steps closer, I sense a shift. He drops to his knees, bringing himself low before me.
“I’m sorry.” His head is bowed, his voice barely above a whisper. I watch him, feeling a surge of disbelief that quickly solidifies into rage. His words are laced with sorrow, but then he adds, “And I’m sorry that I do not regret everything that happened.”
My fists clenched tightly, nails pressing into my palms, as though this small act of pain could somehow ground me, rein in the storm brewing inside. How dare he! How dare he kneel here, acting as if he’s sorry yet confessing he’d change nothing. I struggle to contain the anger twisting inside me, the raw, jagged shards of betrayal I’ve swallowed down for so long.