I signed where he’d marked with quick, careless strokes, then shoved the papers back at him. "There. Are we done?"
"Yeah. Thank you, Naya. I know this has been hard on you." He tucked the folder away carefully, and there was sothing in his expression that I couldn’t quite read. Relief, maybe. Or satisfaction. "Listen, I need to tell you sothing. About Isabella’s surgery."
"I don’t want to hear about Isabella."
"Just listen for a second." His voice took on that pleading quality that used to make cave every ti. "The surgery costs way more than we thought. Almost two hundred thousand dollars. Her insurance won’t cover most of it because of a pre-existing condition clause. I’ve been trying to get the money together, but it’s been impossible."
Why was he telling this? What did he expect to do about it?
"That’s why I need you to stay away from Hansel Ward," he continued, and now his voice had hardened slightly. "The Wards have enemies, Naya. Powerful enemies. And being associated with them could put you in danger. I know we’re not together anymore, but I still care about you. I don’t want to see you get hurt."
I almost laughed. He cared about ? Now? After everything?
"We’re not over, you know," he said quietly as we pulled up in front of Hansel’s building. "You and . I have so much going on right now with Isabella, the dical bills, and trying to keep everything together. But once she’s better, once we get through this rough patch, maybe we can talk. Figure things out."
The audacity of it—the sheer, breathtaking audacity—left speechless for a mont. He thought he could co back to ? After marrying my stepsister? After abandoning on our wedding day?
"Goodbye, Caleb," I said, opening the door and stepping out into the rain. "Don’t contact again."
I slamd the door shut before he could respond and stood there on the sidewalk, watching as he drove away. Only when his taillights disappeared around the corner did I realise I wasn’t actually at Hansel’s building. I was still a few blocks away.
Of course. Caleb probably didn’t want to pull up right to the entrance where security caras might catch him dropping off his ex-fiancée at another man’s ho.
So I walked. In the rain. In my ruined dress and uncomfortable heels. And with every step, Caleb’s words echoed in my head.
Isabella’s surgery. Two hundred thousand dollars. I need you to stay away from Hansel Ward. We’re not over.
By the ti I reached Hansel’s building, I was soaked through and shivering, my teeth chattering so hard I could barely get my na out when the doorman asked. He looked at with pity as he let in, probably thinking I was so disaster, and he wasn’t wrong.
I took the elevator up to the penthouse, my wet shoes squelching with every step. The penthouse was dark when I entered. Hansel wasn’t ho yet. Good. I didn’t think I could handle seeing him right now, hearing more about how worthless I was.
I went straight to the guest bedroom and grabbed my duffel bag, throwing my few possessions into it with shaking hands. Then I rembered my phone. Hansel still had my phone. I needed that phone. I needed to call Reese and have so connection to the outside world.
I crossed the penthouse to his bedroom.
Thankfully, the door was unlocked, and I pushed it open, flipping on the light. The room was exactly what I’d expected. It was expensive and impersonal, all black and white and chro—no personal photos. No clutter. Nothing that would tell you anything about the man who slept here.
I found my phone on his nightstand, plugged in and fully charged. When I turned it on, I saw dozens of missed calls and texts from Reese, each more frantic than the last. The guilt hit hard. I’d left her worrying for days while I was unconscious, and then I was too caught up in my own disaster to reach out.
I’d call her. But not from here.
I grabbed my bag and walked out of the penthouse, leaving the key card he’d given on the kitchen counter. I wasn’t coming back.
The rain had slowed to a drizzle by the ti I made it back outside, and I walked until I found a bus stop with a covered bench. I sat down, finally alone, finally able to stop pretending I was okay.
And I cried.
I cried for my mother. For the goodbye I never got to say. For the three years I’d wasted on Caleb, for the humiliation at the fundraiser. For every harsh word Hansel had thrown at , like weapons. For the ss my life had beco.
I cried until I had no tears left, until my eyes were swollen and my throat was raw, and I felt completely hollowed out.
"Naya Rivers?"
The voice made look up, and my blood ran cold.
The Director from the hospital where my mom was treated stood there with two security guards, looking at with that sa contempt he’d worn when he told about my mother’s death.
"You’re under arrest for failure to pay outstanding dical debts," he said, and the police n with him moved forward. "The hospital has filed charges. You’ll need to co with us."
I didn’t fight or try to run. I just let them pull to my feet and guide toward their car.
Because what was the point? What was the point of fighting anymore when everything I did just made things worse?
As they drove away from that bus stop, from the last shred of freedom I had, I found myself thinking about the form I’d signed for Caleb. About how I hadn’t read it, hadn’t even questioned what it really said.
And I wondered, in the back of my exhausted mind, if I’d just made yet another terrible mistake.
But I was too tired to care.
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