Shattered glass. Red drops falling. A rustic scent, mixing with the smoke until it's all I can smell. The loss of the only person that ever gave a shit about me. My reality. What I caused because I couldn't be what the rest of the world needed me to be. For letting the selfish part of me win and allowing myself to fall in love. I've been running as fast and as far away from the memory of that night as I can get, but no matter how far I go, I can never escape it. The last thing I want is someone new coming along and forcing me to do what I've spent the last two years ducking and dodging at every turn. Feeling, or even worse. Loving. Isaac Crawford is toxic and it has nothing to do with his inability to speak. He threatens everything I've spent the last two years trying to bury. His resemblance to my past is undeniable, bringing what should remain buried, alive again. And no matter how deep the urge is to flee, the need to stay fights back harder. Making the untouchable one impossible to turn away from. One look-one chance meeting in a conference room was all it took for him to get under my skin and now that he's done it, there's no turning back. The untouched is creating the unbroken.