MATTHEW
I stood there, watching her go.
Her words hit harder than any slap. “I don’t want anything to do with you.”
She didn’t yell. She didn’t cry. But it hurt more because of how calm she was—like she meant every word.
I wanted to run after her. To explain. To tell her that none of this meant what she thought it did.
But I didn’t move.
I just… stood there.
The room had emptied out. The chairs were still pulled back, papers scattered, but the only thing I could think about was her.
Zara.
Her fire. Her strength. The way her voice didn’t shake once during that entire presentation, even though I knew she was barely holding it together.
And I hated myself for being part of what made it harder for her.
I felt a huge hug from behind, Monica. I groaned but enough that she could hear.
