With her heart thumping her ribs, Annabel stood motionless her hand still raised. Her palm striking his cheek sounded like a physical blow adding a harsh punctuation to the agony of the morning.
Carson was a statue as well. He was standing in the corridor with one hand up to his cheek and his body c****d slightly. He stared at her with wide shocked eyes.
Her own horror was reflected in the disbelieving expression. She had no intention for violence.
Never in her life had she raised her hand to anyone much less the man she was in love with. She watched the physical sign of her anger—the pink flush that was spreading across his cheek.
Then gradually his eyes changed. After the shock subsided a deep devastating sadness that penetrated her very being took its place.
No longer able to
