Chapter 9
I nodded slightly.
He ran his hands through his hair in frustration.
“I told you I have nothing with her! I just felt sorry for her and wanted to help! You never believe me! I don’t like her! Really! I only like you! I dream about marrying you!”
He grabbed my hands painfully tight. “You gotta believe me! We’ve had thirteen years together!”
I slowly but firmly pulled my hands away. “How am I supposed to believe you?”
“Believe you when you fight with me over and over because of her?”
“Believe you when you leave me stranded at some random train station for hours?”
“Believe you when you stand by her side, accusing me of faking a reaction that nearly killed me?”
“Believe you when you give my mom’s dress to her and play our song together?”
“Or believe you when you know I hate her but still let her take me up that mountain and abandon me halfway?”
The barrage of questions left Marcus stunned. “What?”
I didn’t explain, just continued coldly:
“You just assumed I liked you and couldn’t leave you, so you got to enjoy my devotion and attention while also soaking up Chelsea’s worship and adoration.”
“But people change, Marcus. Even love fades bit by bit with disappointment.”
“So Marcus Blackthorne, I don’t like you anymore.”
His fists clenched tight, trembling slightly, but he suddenly bowed his head.
“But I still like you!”
Tears dropped heavily onto the table.
“Joy, I know I messed up. I’ll cut off all contact with her. Just forgive me this once–let’s start over, okay?”
Watching him lower his proud head, I felt nothing but calm.
I seemed to have completely let go.
My phone buzzed. I glanced down and couldn’t help smiling.
I stood up, pushing the untouched bubble tea toward him.
“Marcus,”
“The one who likes boba tea is Chelsea, not me.”
“And besides, I already AM starting over.”
He asked in a low voice, “With that guy from earlier?”
I thought about this afternoon’s kiss and my ears turned red.
“Obviously.”
