Taking another deep breath, he pushed the door open. His heart dropped to his stomach in guilt at the sight that met his eyes.
Kalina was sleeping on his bed, curled up in a ball, wearing a grey sweatshirt of his while hugging one of his suits to her chest. As Dominique moved closer in careful steps, not wanting to wake her, he noticed her tear-streaked face. The sight was like a punch to the gut, making him feel like the worst kind of villain.
She looked so fragile, her usual bright face replaced by reddened cheeks and a profound sadness that tugged at his heartstrings. Her eyelashes were still wet with tears, and her lips quivered slightly, even in sleep. It was obvious she had cried herself to exhaustion. The guilt gnawed at him, a relentless ache in his chest.