“Haddy really is a heartless one,” Hernan let go of me, his voice dripping with mock sympathy.
I shot him a look, feeling my blood boil. And before I knew it, I just snapped. I grabbed the closest
thing to me and hurled it at him. “See? I was never his girl! What a jerk. Total… idiot.”
I don’t normally curse–like, ever. But in that moment? I didn’t even care who I was mad at anymore.
I just needed to say it.
Shouting all that–the anger, the frustration, the hurt–it actually made me feel lighter, like I could
finally breathe again. Like I was throwing off this weight I’d been carrying around for way too long.
Hernan didn’t flinch. He just stood there like a wall, taking it all.
By the time my arms were too weak to move, I crumpled to the floor, curling into a ball. I felt empty,
like every ounce of energy had been drained from me.
Eventually, Hernan walked out. But as the door clicked shut behind him, I caught a voice from
outside.
“You seriously think she’s the one who’s gonna reel Hayden back in?”
The door clicked again, cutting off whatever response he had, and suddenly… silence. Like, dead
silent.
Alone. Like, really alone.
That emotional explosion had zapped every ounce of energy I had left. My head was just this giant
fog, and I stared at absolutely nothing in front of me, feelingpletely spaced out, like my brain
just checked out for the day.
How long had I been sitting there? Minutes? Hours? I had no idea. But then, the door opened again,
and a maid walked in with a pile of clothes in her arms.
“Miss, here are your clothes, freshly cleaned.”
I blinked at her, still half–dazed. “Why’d you even wash my clothes?”
The maid gave me a polite smile. “Mr. Skye insists on cleanliness. No one sleeps in outside clothes
under his roof.”
“Wait… you were the one who changed me?”
The maid nodded. “Of course.”
A tiny sigh of relief slipped out of me.
The maid ced my clothes down, then started picking up the disaster I’d made of the room.
When she finished, it felt like the space had exhaled–quieter, emptier, and somehow… calmer.
Slowly, my mind started to unfog.
After a minute, I grabbed my phone and started typing like my fingers were on fire.
[Hayden, you’re a jerk. You said you loved me, but now you’re out there picking rings with some
other girl? You’re a selfish prick.]
[Seriously? I thought you were better than this. But nope–turns out, you’re just as shallow as
everyone else.]
[You dumped me, and now you’re ming ME? Didn’t know you were capable of being this cold.]
[Everything I’m going through? It’s on you. If anything happens to me, you better believe I’lle
back to haunt you.]
And I didn’t stop there. Oh, no. I kept typing, typing, typing, like each message was the only thing
keeping me from totally losing it.
After what felt like a century, I saw the typing indicator pop up on his end. My heart mmed
against my chest as I waited. Then, the dreaded reply:
[This is Yara, Hayden’s fiancée. He doesn’t want you anymore, so please stop contacting him.]
I froze. My body wentpletely numb. She was already that close to him? Close enough to take
over his phone and reply for him?
The anger hit like a freight train. Without thinking, I chucked my phone at the wall with every ounce
of rage 1 had left.
The crash was so loud, it shook the room. My phone shattered on the floor, its screen a mess of
cracked ss.
For a split second, I felt a pang of regret. But then–poof–it was gone, reced with straight–up rage
as I screamed, “I want out! Let me go!”
A secondter, the maid walked back in. She nced at the broken phone, then picked it up like it
was no big deal and ced it gently on the table.
“Miss, Mr. Skye said he wants you to join him for a snooker game. He’ll let you go once it’s over.” Exclusive ? content by N(?)ve/l/Drama.Org.