For the longest moment, I simply sat beside Donald and looked at him. He was a picture of pain and misery, staring down at his hands silently and looking like a part of him had just died. Silent tears pooled in his eyes, and several times his breath caught in his chest.
This was not the Donald I had known in the month’s plus I had spent here. No smiles. No bashful personality. No contagious laughter. He just looked…empty. Broken.
I liked the Erin blocked the bond for now to let me do this. It feels as though she was giving us privacy. And I liked it.
I wanted to help him; I really did. But I didn't know what I was supposed to do. I didn’t know whether to pat him on the back, or to tell him everything was going to be okay. But when I tried to put myself in his shoes, I thought it would
