Chapter 3
I turned and walked away.
I didn't argue. I didn't scream. I just walked.
The elevator doors closed behind me, and I sank against the wall, sobbing.
I had given Ryan three months of my life. Three months of late-night calls, of sharing my fears, of believing I'd finally found someone who saw me.
And it had all been a show.
A performance.
Content.
I got home and stripped off my wet blouse. Threw it in the trash. I wanted to throw away everything that reminded me of him.
But I couldn't throw away the memory.
I couldn't throw away the way he'd looked at me when he told me I was "different." The way he'd held my hand and said he'd never hurt me.
It had all been lies.
I lay on my bed and cried until my eyes burned.
And then—anger started to rise.
Hot. Sharp. Clear.
He thought he could use me. Throw me away. Post my humiliation for the world to laugh at.
And Olivia... she thought she was safe. She thought she was on the winning team.
I sat up. Wiped my eyes.
May you like
No.
Not this time.
