Samantha’s POV
Days had passed since Oliver humiliated me, but the sting of it still burned deep. No amount of time could dull the memory of him grabbing my arm and throwing me out of his office like I was nothing. I could still feel the heat of his words, the disgust in his voice when he told me never to touch him again.
I sat on my sleek leather couch, a glass of red wine in my hand, staring at the city lights outside my apartment window. They twinkled, indifferent to the storm brewing inside me. The world moved on, but I couldn’t. I refused to let him win. Not after everything I’d sacrificed for him.
He hadn’t called. No apology. No explanation. Nothing. After years of loyalty—years of giving him my body, my affection, my everything—he discarded me like I was disposable. And for what
