““God, Abby, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he said as he stared out the bay window onto the lake. The serene morning calm of the water was laughing at his riptide of emotions. In all his life, he’d never been as tortured as he was now. Rip his limbs apart, whip his back raw, waterboard him, anything but this. Because this . . . this was far worse. It was her pain. Her torture that was destroying his sanity. He had no control over it. He couldn’t stop it. He hated that he wasn’t strong enough to withstand this. Most of all, he hated that he cared so much about her. Cause he knew. He knew one certainty in all this. She had managed to touch a piece of his ice-cold heart. And it wasn’t letting him go.””
