(Mira)
Ridge didn't move for hours.
We lay there in bed, his arm around me, both of us staring at nothing.
He wasn't sleeping. I could tell. His breathing was wrong. Too controlled.
"You should try to sleep," I said.
"Can't."
"You need to rest."
"I know."
But he didn't move. Just kept staring at the ceiling.
I wanted to help him. Wanted to take the pain away. But I didn't know how.
Five funerals in one day. Five speeches. Five families.
I'd watched him break a little more with each one.
Derek's speech had been hard. Greg's had been worse. By Wade's, he could barely get the words out.
And the prospects. God, the prospects. They'd been so young.
Ridge blamed himself. I could see it in his eyes. The guilt. The weight of it.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked.
"No."
"Ridg
