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Chapter 1 - Zia
Zia Kincaid did not know how to handle heartbreaks. She had never had to deal with one before. Why would she anticipate moments of tears and sorrow when she thought spending forever with the supposed loveof her lifewas certain?
Three years of friendship and one year of being a complete dumbass who thought she’d said yes to being the girlfriend of a man she’d thought was her soulmate, her lifetime partner, her everything.
Hah.
How very,terriblywrong she was.
That was why, even now, as she stared at his big hand wrapped around her wrist, holding her in place, it was hard to believe that this was truly happening. That he was walking out on herforever.
Gritting her teeth, she looked up.
The tears stung, blurring her vision. No one ever told her what it felt like to be heartbroken. Maybe if she had taken a class or two to prepare her for the moment, it wouldn’t have hurt like a bitch.
She sniffled. If he weren’t holding her wrist in such a tight grip, she would have had her hand clutching her chest like nothing else mattered in life.
It felt like a heavy, crushing weight in her chest, making it hard to breathe, think, or function, and it was deep, like a piercing pain radiating through every cell of her body, leaving only a sense of emptiness and hollowness behind. Her mind raced with thoughts of what could've been, replaying memorieslike a fucking broken record, and, worse, the ache was constant—a dull throbbing that refused to subside.
Screw clutching her chest like nothing else mattered.
If he didn’t have such a tight grip on her wrist, she’d be fisting his annoying bright blue Fiji-branded shirt that matched his crystal blue eyes and pounding his chest so she didn’t have to be the only one going through the pain.
“Let go of my fucking hand!”
Her voice bounced off the taupe-colored walls and came back to her ears, echoing the pain in them. The disappointment, the choked tears of hurt hiding behind feigned confidence, and the fucking betrayal.
Then, to crown his offenses, the asshole let go.
He fucking let go.
Granted, she wanted him to release her. But what she didn’t expect was the instant withdrawal. No hesitation, no questions. He took a step back, hands raised, eyes guarded, and flat chest going up and down, breathing fast.
Her brows dipped between her forehead, and she fought the impulse to burst into tears.
It had been one attempt—just one attempt to stop her boxes from crossing the threshold.
“Imagine falling into a stormy sea and not knowing how to swim; each current, heavier than the previous one, just tossing you wherever it wants, and then the tide rises, and the waves engulf you, pulling you under into deep dark depths. That is what this feels like; like I’m drowning, and there’s no one to save me.”
It was quiet for a while and only his steady breathing filled the room; hers ragged, shaky.
Zia watched him put one hand on his slim waist and slip his unoccupied fingers through his shiny blonde hair. He looked so beautiful, yet so monstrous.
Once upon a time, she’d fallen for the innocence in his eyes, the signature quirk of his full lips to the side every time he laughed, and the rapid way he always,alwaystousled his hair with his fingers when he was nervous.
But now, the sight of his nervousness irritated her.
“Aren’t you going to say anything? You just heard me say I feel like I’m drowning. God, are you that evil?”
His hands dropped to the side, and he shrugged like he’d quit. Like he had given up on her. “What do you want me to say, Zee?”
She could swear her jaw almost dropped to the ground, eyes bulging from their sockets in shock. “What does that even mean? Are you not even going to try and save me? Wilder, you owe me an apology. You fucking owe me more than one dramatic grip on my hand, damn it!”
An annoyed grunt accompanied another slip of his fingers through his hair. “It is clear you want to leave.” He pointed at her boxes. “There is obviously nothing I can do to stop you, is there?”
“You are not even trying!” God! He was so infuriating. She had never felt the urge to pull her hair out until now. “You’re standing there, watching me walk out on everything we built together and not even trying to stop me.”
“Everythingwebuilt together?” He scoffed. “My parents paid for this apartment, and I furnished it with my money.”
