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“You’re gonna stay away from her. In fact, you’re not even gonna look at her.”
“N-no, I need to apologise—”
The stammer in his voice should’ve pleased me, but it only made me sick.
“Save it.” I forced on a smile that felt more like a baring of teeth. “She doesn’t want it,” I growled.
“Leave her the fuck alone.”
I held his eye until understanding clicked, the silent “or else” thickening the air between us. It would be so easy—a few phone calls, and he wouldn’t be able to find work in the city.
So tempting.
“Are we clear?” I gritted out.
My hands came out of my pockets, trembling with rage—and if he had been anyone else, I would have hit him. I let my smile grow cruel instead, so he knew I meant every word. Spoken or unspoken.
His eyes rounded and his face drained of colour, as if he was seeing me for the first time. He stiffened and gulped, nodding jerkily, then ordered another glass in a thin voice.
I tapped the polished wooden bar twice and turned on my heel.
Over my shoulder, I added, “And for the record… I was never competing with you.”
The crack in my voice was nearly inaudible, swallowed by the jarringly bright music around us.
My hand dragged through my hair as I strode out of the party without waiting for a reply, eyes and murmurs following me like sharp little needles along my spine.
They barely registered over the stabbing pain in my chest.
PART THREE
Chapter thirty-nine
Mia
My temples throbbed and a headache scraped behind my eyelids as I picked up a brush and foundation and painted trembling streaks over my cheekbones, before blending them out.
The face staring back at me in the mirror didn’t feel like my own: a waxy, pale sheen lingered on my skin despite the blush I’d applied, and deep purple marred the underside of my eyes, peeking through the puffiness.
Not even Pri’s trusty cool compress hack or military-grade concealer she’d gifted me fully hid the damage.
I tossed the crumpled packets of tissues littering the nightstand into the bin. Then, I shot a sad little smile to the two dozen pink roses perched on my dresser, which looked more beautiful than yesterday, the buds opening in the morning light.
The candle I’d left burning while I got ready snuffed out, and I sucked in a sweet whiff of ylang-ylang that did nothing to soothe my nerves, before killing the lights and stepping out.
My hand was surprisingly steady as I jabbed at Liam’s name in my phone and hit delete on his contact and every text we’d ever exchanged.
The morning dawned bright, casting a dazzling pinkish glow over the chequered floors as I made my way down in a soft sweater and jeans, the phantom of last night trailing my steps.
The familiar tinkle of metal against ceramic greeted me, mingling with the sleepy hum of conversation clinging to the cafeteria, but the heart-shaped balloons and the garlands of roses spilling from the ceiling were gone.
A hush fell over the cavernous space when I walked in.
As I crept across the polished floor, I heard a soft snore from someone slumped over a table, the only neutral sound in a sea of whispers and murmurs. Though I’d been bracing for it, spine locked up and shoulders stiff, spears of envy and hatred stabbed me all over as I passed—and I didn’t need to guess why.
A familiar head of strawberry-blonde hair caught the morning light, beckoning me, before my thoughts screeched to a halt like a badly scratched record.
Oh, god.
