Rebecca's pov
"Argh!" I groaned, running a hand through my hair in frustration. Why did I have to say that? Why did those words come out of my mouth? Since when did I ever consider anyone else's feelings? I used to be selfish—cold, unbothered, detached. That was who I was. Scary Becky, or "Scary Harry," as they called me.
I caught my reflection in the taxi window, the city lights faintly outlining my face against the glass. My jaw was tight, my brows furrowed, and my usually sharp gaze looked clouded with uncertainty. It was laughable, really. Since when did I turn into someone who second-guessed their decisions? Yet, there I was, sitting in the back seat of a cab, practically sinking into the worn leather as my reckless words replayed over and over in my mind.
The driver probably thou
