Her tone was cold, tinged with undisguised disgust.
Tristan Sterling's heart clenched, as if stabbed by a sharp blade.
It hurt. A lot.
The corners of his eyes reddened involuntarily. He pulled her into a sudden embrace, his thin lips close to her ear, his hoarse voice filled with regret and pain. "Holly, don't do this to me. I miss you so much..."
He held her very tightly.
So tight, it was as if he wished he could knead her into his very bones and blood.
'Never to be separated again!'
Three years!
For over a thousand days and nights, he had lived in a daze.
He even thought he was developing schizophrenia at one point, because one moment he was convinced she wasn't dead, ignoring everyone's pleas and insisting on continuing the search and rescue.
The next, he felt it was impossible for her to have survived under those circumstances, that he had lost her forever.
