His right hand was clenched tightly at his side, knuckles raw and bloodied. A nearby pillar bore the brunt of his fury, faint crimson smeared across its white paint.
"Oh my God," Cammy whispered, her heart leaping to her throat. "Greg…"
Greg didn't move at the sound of her voice. His body was frozen—coiled with anguish. His jaw tightened, breath heavy through flared nostrils. Ric approached him carefully but kept a few steps of space, like one would with a wild animal cornered by pain.
"Greg, please…" Cammy said again, walking faster now.
Monica placed a hand on her arm. "Cammy, wait—don't push him right now—"
But Cammy shook her off and closed the distance.
Greg turned around slowly, eyes red-rimmed with fury and heartbreak. "You should've just told us," he said, his voice hoarse. "You should've told us before we fell in love with each other deeply…" he uttered, his words directed at Monica.
