Chapter 20
Zach
My phone pings on the nightstand as I’m getting ready for bed. I swipe the screen and see a goodnight text from Marina. My heart sinks. I was really hoping to get another phone call before her head hit the pillow, but she’s probably already sleeping. She’s exhausted, thanks to a bunch of people who don’t have a brain between them and certainly don’t deserve her.
She didn’t mention watching any news or anything. And she didn’t seem distant or upset. I wish I knew for sure what was going on in that beautiful head of hers. We’re away from each other at the worst time. I should be there to help her deal with how insanely stupid the press can be. I wouldn’t worry so much if it wasn’t for her being under such pressure at work and her boss having issues with the whole viral video thing.
I step into the bathroom and turn the shower on, then just stand there a minute and try to focus. I can feel all of this slipping through my fingers, and I can’t get a grip on it. I keep trying and trying, but it feels like we’re on a runaway train, and the tracks are out ahead. One of Marina’s greatest strengths is also one of her weaknesses: that lovely stubborn streak. She’s a fighter. Fierce and passionate. I’m not entirely confident that the media and the circus that comes with it won’t push her from fighting them to fighting me .
***
Marina
This week feels like it’s a month long, and it’s only Wednesday. The meeting is on Friday, and I’m still putting out fires all over the office.
I slow my steps as I near Ms. Taft’s door. She’s on the phone and has strict rules about being interrupted during calls. I have a document she needs for her next meeting, and there’s not much time. I could leave it on my desk for her to find, but she’ll just make a snide remark about me not doing everything as it should be done.
“I had no idea…you’re kidding me,” Ms. Taft says in what she thinks is a whisper. She never whispers, which is why I always close her door when I leave her office. “A group home for bad kids? I can’t believe it. Are you sure? She’s so…boring. I can’t imagine her being anything but disgustingly wholesome.”
Instantly, my heart leaps to my throat. Granted, I’ve been avoiding the news lately, but I’m pretty sure the girls would have told me that the gossip mongers on TV are reporting that I was a foster kid. This feels like it’s coming from somewhere else. This feels less like it came from a news station and more like it was born from a gossip rag.
“Well, now it makes more sense. She practically grew up on the streets. I’m sure she buys those ghastly suits at some thrift shop somewhere, trying to fit in. And now she’s found herself a duke! What a little manipulator.”
I’m rooted to the spot where I’m standing, tears of frustration welling up in my eyes.
“It’s laughable,” she continues. “Ethan, can you see the royal family inviting her to garden parties and high tea? She clearly has no idea the pedigree she needs to have in order to be accepted in that world. They’re all about bloodlines and titles over there. She’s literally nobody! This will be fun to watch.”
I finally push myself away from the doorway, so furious I can’t listen to another word. What a horrible, cruel person. I am definitely quitting after the meeting on Friday. Well, after I’m sure my bonus has been paid out. Then I’m quitting. I know Ashley means what she says about the rent, and she’s right. I need to accept help once in a while. I would be crazy to stay here after this, but I’ve worked so hard for this bonus I want to be sure I have it when I walk out of here forever.
I walk back to my desk and check my email. I have all the documents I need now except for two from the worst offenders on Ms. Taft’s team. Not a shocker, but I can see that it’s almost time for me to head to lunch with Hillary. With everything going on in the office, we agreed that she’d order takeout, and we’d meet in the employee cafeteria downstairs. I open a new email, send a reminder to everyone to have their documents to me by 2 pm, and lock my computer. Then I lock my desk and leave Ms. Taft’s document where she can find it before heading downstairs to meet Hillary.
The employee cafeteria is teeming with people at this hour. It’s a shared space between three firms at the top of Trans United Tower, so it’s a mish-mash of lawyers, accountants, and uniformed mailroom employees. Hillary waves at me from a table against the windows on the far side of the cafeteria, and I head straight to her. I face the window with my back to the rest of the cafeteria, thinking it’ll be more peaceful than looking at a bunch of people I don’t know each their lunches. I smile at Hillary as I sit .
“Hey there,” she greets me. “I’m glad for a little break right now. Are you going as crazy as I am with this whole proposal?”
I nod. “You have no idea. It’s pretty bad in our department.”
She reaches into the bag and starts distributing takeout containers. What is it about burrito bowls that are so delicious? Maybe I’m just boring , as Ms. Taft put it.
“Are you okay?” Hillary asks softly.
I look up quickly, and a tear escapes my eye. I wipe it away and manage to force out what I hope is a light laugh. It might sound a little maniacal, actually. Hopefully not. I rip open a utensil packet that came with our food.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Allergies probably.”
The look on her face tells me she’s not buying it, but she’s too nice to push. She opens her utensils as I take the lid off my bowl and dig in before I open my mouth and say something else stupid.
“How late did you work last night?” she asks softly. “You were still here when I left, and I was here till eight o’clock.”
I look up. “You were? I had no idea anyone else was here that late.”
She smirks and leans forward. “I think sometimes they have a contest to see who can make their assistants work the latest.”
I laugh and nod. “Maybe.”
“You looked…sad. So I didn’t want to bother you, or I would have stopped by.”
I swallow hard. “It hasn’t been an easy week.”
She nods slowly. “Well, no one should have to stay that late. Next time, let me know, and I’ll come and help.”
I give her a genuine smile and dig into my bowl, realizing sadly that she’s the first person who’s ever offered to help me here. We eat in relative silence for a while, then her phone chimes. She has to do something for her boss and apologizes, but I wave my hand at her to go ahead. She hunches over her phone, scrolling and typing a message to him. Suddenly, I hear Zach’s voice behind me on someone’s cell phone.
“…I recently caught a mermaid.”
My ears perk up. I can’t turn around to see who it is, but they’re watching Zach work the crowd at the benefit concert and snickering about it.
“Like…seriously…I’m so embarrassed for him,” a man’s voice says. “I used to have such respect for him, but this is pitiful. He made an ass out of himself for some chick who’s just manipulating the situation to get at him.”
“Do you really believe that?” a woman asks.
“Hands down, yeah,” he says. “What is anyone doing dressed up like a stupid mermaid in the middle of the bridge? She put herself there on purpose.”
“I feel sorry for his family,” another woman adds. “I saw a post in a Rebels fan group that his parents are furious.”
“Oh yeah, don’t forget he’ll be a duke someday. Can you see her at Buckingham Palace in her mermaid suit?”
The whole group laughs.
“Pathetic.”
I take a deep breath, and another tear falls. I wipe it away and look up to see if Hillary saw it, and she’s looking at me with absolute compassion in her eyes. I will myself not to cry right now, in a crowded cafeteria, where I would certainly make the people behind me very happy. Hillary leans forward.
“Let’s move somewhere else,” she whispers, looking over my shoulder at the mermaid haters like she wants to push them all out the window.
I shake my head. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”
She tilts her head. “No one would be fine after that.”
I shake my head again and take a bite, focusing on chewing and breathing. She watches them over my shoulder. It sounds like they’re packing up.
“They’re wrong,” she offers, taking a bite of her lunch. “What he did was…”
I raise my eyebrows as she holds up her fingers and starts ticking off a list.
“It was fun to watch because the crowd was eating it up. It was all in the spirit of the evening,” she says defensively. “It was heroic to raise over half a million dollars more for mental health. Epic, even. And it was freaking romantic, my friend. I mean…wow. I loved it.”
The corners of my mouth tip up a little bit as I take another bite, not really trusting myself to speak.
“They’re just jealous,” she continues. “But let’s talk about something else. I wanted to ask you something, but you have to promise not to tell anyone that I asked.”
My eyes widen. “Of course.”
She licks her lips and looks around to make sure no one is close enough to hear.
“Has Ethan Montclair ever…well, does he ever accidentally bump into you? Or touch you? On purpose?”
I feel my blood boil instantly. That creep. That smarmy, disgusting creep.
“Yes,” I say quietly. “I thought I was the only one.”
She shakes her head. “And I think there are more women in the office this is happening to. He’s so gross.”
“I’m sorry it’s happened to you. It is gross.”
She nods, and a shudder ripples through her body.
“We have to tell someone,” I say, still keeping my voice down. “Otherwise he’ll just keep doing it.”
“I did,” she whispers. “I reported it to human resources two weeks ago, but he’s still lurking around. ”
If I wasn’t fuming before, I am now. I can’t stand this kind of thing.
“Let me think about it,” I say carefully. “But I promise not to tell anyone what you said.”
“Why is he even here? He doesn’t work here, and the meeting isn’t till Friday,” she muses.
“That’s my fault too, I guess,” I mutter. “He keeps gushing at me, trying to get Zach and me to give him an exclusive interview for his gossipy network.”
Hillary makes a face. “As if!”
I nod. “Yeah, there’s no way I’m doing that.”
“Good,” she says. “And thanks for listening. I really appreciate it, Marina.”
***
I manage to get out of the office at a decent hour tonight, so I practically run to Dave and the open door to the car. He gives me a nod and closes the door behind me. Max and I can’t video chat tonight after all. His partner on a project bailed on him, so he’ll be busy working on it all night. We’re both hopefully free tomorrow after work. I pull out my phone and text Zach.
Marina: Hey…are you there?
Zach: Always for you, love. Just about to go in for our last television interview. I’m so happy I’m on my way home to you tonight! We won’t be back to the city until late, but I’ll be able to see you in the morning before your big day.
Home. I pause for a minute. San Francisco isn’t home for him, though. And he’s only coming back for a few days before leaving again. And we’ll be back on this treadmill. Again. And I’ll still be the laughingstock of the office. I stare at my phone, not sure of what to say .
Zach: Marina?
I decide to just rip off the band-aid.
Marina: Are your parents angry because you’re seeing me?
My phone rings immediately.
“Hi,” I answer.
“What’s happened, Marina?” he asks in a strained voice. “No, my parents aren’t mad. Who said that to you?”
I feel my lip tremble and bite it to keep it still, swallowing hard.
“Some people were gossiping in the employee cafeteria today,” I explain, my voice wobbly. “One of them said they saw something about it in a fan group on social media.”
He sighs into the phone. “Well, I can confirm that there is absolutely no truth in it. Please don’t pay—”
“Have you seen any stories that talk about my past? About me being a foster kid?”
“What?” he asks in an incredulous tone. “No. I would have told you immediately, and I would have handled it.”
I blink back a tear. “What does that mean?”
“I always hit back if the media starts getting ugly,” he explains. “I’ve set firm boundaries and they usually respect them because I let them get away with a lot before I start pushing back. I give them a lot of access to me, so they don’t have to fight to get an interview. There’s a give and take to these things, but none of that matters right now. I’m really bothered by this.”
The car winds its way through the darkening streets of San Francisco, and I can tell from the view out the window that we’re close to the hotel. Hearing the Evil Queen talk about my childhood like that was such a violation. To have the worst person imaginable get access to my personal history is something I’ll never forget. I’ve tried to shake it off all day, but it clings to me like an oily residue I can’t scrape off .
“Apparently the big topic in the world isn’t politics or hunger or anything important. It’s whether I can be a duchess,” I continue, still finding the entire notion ridiculous. “About how I’ve trapped you because I have an agenda and how embarrassing it would be for your family.”
“I’ve seen some talk about me inheriting my father’s title, but it’ll die down soon. Let’s talk about this when I’m home tomorrow, and we’re together,” he says soothingly.
“It’s a valid argument, though.”
“It’s ridiculous,” he insists. “On many levels. Marina, please let me explain all this when I get there? I know Friday is booked, with your big meeting and opening night for the Rebels concert, but we’ll have Saturday morning and afternoon together. We can stay in and talk it all through.”
I nod. “Okay.”
The car pulls to a stop outside the hotel. Dave gets out and opens the door for me. I remain inside for a minute.
“Just got to the hotel,” I murmur into the phone.
He sighs. “Yeah, two minutes, Rick…”
“And you have to go,” I say.
“I do, Siren, but I’m worried about you.”
“I’m fine.”
He laughs softly. “Do you remember that scene from ‘The Princess Bride’ when Inigo Montoya says, ‘You keep using that word. I don’t think it means what you think it means’?”
I roll my eyes. “Yes.”
“Well?”
“Zach,” I sigh in frustration. “I’m doing the best I can, but I’ll be honest…I’m stressed out right now and exhausted.”
“I know, love,” he says in a husky voice. “Just sit tight a little longer, and we’ll tackle this together. Stay away from the news until then, yeah?”
“You know I can’t do that,” I say emphatically. “Especially after overhearing Ms. Taft. She’s been horrible all week, but I think it was Ethan Montclair who went digging into my past. When we first met, he was trying to get me to give an interview to one of his networks. I need to know if he’s blasting my personal history all over. I have to know. I told you I wouldn’t do it alone, and I won’t. I’ll watch the news with Ashley.”
I hear his resigned sigh on the other end and Rick calling to him in the distance.
“Go do your interview,” I say gently. “I’ll be fine. I’ll see you soon.”
He hesitates for a moment.
“All right, my darling Siren. I’ll be counting the minutes.”
I disconnect and scoot out of the car, then walk into the lobby and head upstairs. I roll my shoulders as I press the button for my floor. I’m wearing the stress and apprehension of this week on my shoulders and there’s just no shrugging it off. Life at work has gotten ugly in a way I never could have predicted. I always knew Ms. Taft wasn’t a nice person, but she is also heartless. For the first time, I’m starting to understand why everyone thinks I’m crazy for continuing to work there. I unlock the door to my suite and drop my bags where I stand.
“Hey, girl!” Ashley calls from the living room. “Glad to see you back at a decent hour. How did work go?”
I drag myself to the couch and plop down next to Ashley, telling her about the conversations I overhead today. As expected, she’s in full battle armor and ready to wage war for me.
“And what did Zach say about all of this?” she asks calmly, watching me with concern.
I shrug. “Zach wants to wait to talk about it when he’s back so we can be together.”
She nods. “That sounds like a good plan. What did you say?”
“I agree, for the most part,” I say. “But the fact that the Evil Queen was talking about my childhood like that really bothers me.”
“All the more reason for you to quit immediately, Marina. She’s a horrible person.”
I turn to face her, propping my feet up on the couch.
“I plan to give my notice next week,” I share. “After the proposal is done and my bonus is paid.”
She smirks, obviously not believing that I really do mean it. I can’t fault her for that.
“Can you do me a favor?” I ask pensively.
She nods. “Anything.”
“I want to watch the news, on the network Ethan Montclair owns,” I explain. “He’s the one who told the Evil Queen about my past, and I can’t relax about it. I need to know if that’s out in the open.”
Ashley regards me for a moment, twirling a piece of her hair around her finger.
“Will it make a difference if it is?”
I consider for a moment. “Not in some ways,” I say. “I’m not ashamed of it. But he’s horrible. And if he’s spewing hate about me, I want to know—especially before I go into that big meeting with him tomorrow.”
“Okay then,” she says cautiously, reaching for the remote on the side table. “Let’s watch some news.”
***
Four hours later, I’ve learned a lot about the media. Every network, sometimes every show, puts their own spin on things. They all have an agenda.
I’m a gold-digger. I’m adorable. I’m a cold, calculating opportunist. Zach and I are so romantic. He’s a victim, and will end up in ruin because he’s fallen for me. I think I’m Meghan Markle. We even have the same initials. I’m a law student because that’ll help me change the royal family . What? That last one really made me laugh.
Montclair’s network is the least complimentary by far. They created a list of duchess duties and then showed an animated cartoon of a resume so they could slap big red X marks on each requirement, followed by a loud game show buzzer. The obnoxious buzzing sounded every time they found me lacking. Spoiler alert: it’s every duty on the list. Every time they cover a story about me, they show a picture of me laughing on stage at the benefit with the banner, “The Duchess of San Francisco”. There are no words for how much I hate it, or how violated I feel by all of this.
But the worst of it has come from the most heartbreaking source: Zach himself. We’re watching an interview he did for a Rolling Stone documentary last year and they asked him what happens with his life in America when it’s time for him to assume his father’s title.
“From the moment I landed my feet on American soil,” he says with a glint in his eye, “I’ve felt like I was in my home away from home. I’ve learned so much and have gained so much from living here. I love this country. But, yeah, when that time comes I will return home and fulfill all those responsibilities.”
“Do you think people back home will accept a rock ‘n’ roll duke?” the interviewer asks, prompting a laugh from Zach.
“I will always love music, and there’s a special place in my heart for rock, but I was raised a proper little gentleman,” he says. “My mum is quite happy that I still remember all the right manners when I go home for a visit. So I’ll settle down and find myself a proper duchess. I won’t do anything to embarrass the people at home.”
Ashley shuts off the TV, but it’s too late. My entire world has already crashed and burned all around me.
“Hey,” Ashley says from her spot on the couch. “Talk to me. ”
I keep my gaze focused on the TV, even though the screen is blank. The image of Zach smiling and talking about his proper duchess is burned in my brain. I close my eyes and still see it.
“This is awful,” I say hoarsely, fighting back tears. “What was I thinking?”
Ashley tilts her head at me. “About what?”
“I let him in,” I croak. “I let him into my heart. Not that anyone could ever resist him.”
I laugh bitterly. This sucks so much.
Ashley shakes her head at me, eyes wide. “What are you thinking?”
“I have to let him go, Ash,” I cry. “I can’t let this happen. This is so bad.”
I let my tears fall freely, and Ash reaches over and pulls me into a hug.
“No, you don’t,” Ashley says, squeezing me tight. “Don’t you dare.”
I pull away and sit up, wiping my tears. They’re immediately replaced with fresh ones.
“I cannot do this,” I say emphatically. “I have no control over anything right now. People are openly mocking me at work. Everything I’ve worked for is slipping away from me. Everything I fought for.”
She takes my hand and squeezes it. “The only thing you’re going to lose is a horrible job working for horrible people, and that’s only because you’re quitting. As you should!”
I point to the tv. “Who’s going to hire the Duchess of San Francisco to work at their law firm? What law school is going to open their doors for a gold-digger who’s addicted to social media? I have been absolutely trashed.”
Ashley regards me quietly, biting her lip and shaking her head. “You’re reaching. That’s not all they’ll focus on.”
I pull one of the sofa cushions into my lap and hug it for support, then gesture at the room around us .
“And look at this ridiculous suite. I’m living here like this is my life now. This isn’t real life. This is a fantasy that I got sucked into. A hotel isn’t a home. I’m so sick of takeout and room service. I miss having a kitchen.”
Ash crooks the corner of her mouth up. “You literally never cook. Marina, you need to take a step back and calm down. You’re ranting. It’s gonna be okay.”
I shake my head. “It’s not okay,” I say hoarsely. “I avoided Zach in the beginning for this very reason. I had a very neat, ordered life and now there’s just chaos everywhere. I feel like someone put my whole life in a blender and hit puree.”
“And what about Zach?” she asks pointedly.
My heart cracks just thinking about him now. My lip trembles.
“I grew up in one of the poorest neighborhoods in the city, he grew up on an estate. I had a one-bedroom apartment and was a latch key kid, he had a nanny. I am as far away from a ‘proper duchess’ as you can get.”
She frowns at me. “Do you think that matters to Zach?”
I roll my eyes at her. “Not now. But it will later when he has to go back home. Because that is his home, Ash, you heard him say it. So if we stay together, what happens to me then? What happens to my career as a lawyer? I just stop advocating for kids and start hosting tea parties? No.”
Ashley smirks at me and holds a finger up.
“I love you, girl, but I need you to not talk for a minute.”
I nod, then reach over and grab a tissue from the box on the side table.
She takes a huge breath.
“No one is trying to begrudge you the praise you should always get for what you’ve done with your life,” she says. “But it’s pretty obvious to me that you’ve become so focused on the original goals you set for yourself that you’ve forgotten how to be flexible. You are not thinking outside the box. You’re so locked onto the goal of working for the most prestigious law firm and getting into law school that you’re failing to see the other, possibly bigger, opportunities that are laying themselves at your feet. All you see is the goal that Marina from five years ago set.”
I blow my nose and wait for her to continue, not sure if I should speak.
“I’ll give you one example and then I’m done, because I know you well enough to know there is no changing your mind once you’ve made it. Picture yourself in three years. You’re a lawyer, and you’re advocating for the foster kids who are near and dear to your heart. Are you with me?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“You have a case load of maybe thirty kids,” she says. “And how lucky are those thirty kids to have an amazing lawyer like you to fight for them! But here comes Taylor Swift.”
I blink. “What?”
“Taylor dedicates one song on her concert tour to foster kids and gives her fans an opportunity to donate to a special fund every night. She raises millions of dollars for foster kids on her tour. She makes a huge difference to a lot more than thirty kids, and she’s not a lawyer.”
I blow my nose again.
“Does she do that?” I ask breathlessly.
Ash rolls her neck and squares her jaw. “I don’t know, it’s an example of what fame can do for someone who wants to help others.”
“Ash, I am not Taylor Swift.”
She gives me a look. “My point is…there are all kinds of ways to do what really matters to you: advocate for children less fortunate than others.”
Zach’s words ripple through my body like a physical ache .
I’ll settle down and find myself a proper duchess. I won’t do anything to embarrass the people at home.
Ashley stands up and offers me her hand. I look at her dumbly.
“If you miss the apartment and having a kitchen so much, then let’s go home,” she says. “Maybe you’ll feel better to have a little bit of normal back. We’ll deal with media stalkers and all that stuff later. But please save the Zach stuff for when he gets back so you can talk about it together.”
I let her pull me up off the couch, then turn toward my room to go pack. But the happy glow on Zach’s face as he spoke about his future life back home and finding a proper duchess punches a hole in my heart. I can’t bear the thought of disappointing him. Or worse, him sacrificing his image and reputation when it’s time for him to take his father’s title because he’s with me. There’s no doubt in my mind that he would stick by me to the bitter end, and that’s why I have to be the one to let go. He would ruin himself for me, and I would never forgive myself.
I step into my bedroom and pack up my things, not even trying to stop the tears. Ash is right about part of it: going back to the apartment will feel better. I need some normal back in my life. I need my control back, and I need space to think my way through the catastrophe that my life has become. And I need to end this and get out of here before Zach comes back because if I have to see him face to face, I’ll be even more destroyed than I am already.
I check the clock on the bed table. We’ve been watching horrible videos and talking for hours and hours. Zach is well on his way back now. I need to get this over with. I nearly jump out of my skin when Ashley sticks her head in my door.
“Hey,” she says. “I’m going downstairs for one of those cart things for our bags and I’ll be right back.”
I offer her a feeble smile. “Perfect. ”
She disappears from the doorway and I listen carefully for the sound of the front door. Once it clicks, I prop my phone up on the dresser instead of holding it in my hand like usual. There’s no way I can do what I have to do and keep my hand steady. I’m already a wreck. But this has to be done now before I talk myself out of it.
I press the video call button and wait. One ring. Two. On the third, his handsome face, with that beautiful smile, comes into view. My eyes instantly fill with tears.
“Siren, you should be in bed,” he croons. “We’re just about…an hour outside the city. It’ll be after midnight bef—”
“Listen to me.”
He stops talking, and only then does he see my tears.
“What’s wr—”
“I need you to listen to me,” I say with a calm I most definitely do not feel.
He swallows hard. His eyes seek answers in mine, and I see the moment he realizes what’s happening. I see a little piece of him break. He shakes his head.
“Marina…”
“I am so grateful to you for so many things,” I begin, my voice wavering.
“ Don’t .”
I know I have to push forward. The only way for us to heal is for this to move ahead. I lick my lips and take a deep breath.
“You have to let me go.”
He flinches at my words. “No!”
I tilt my head as the tears begin to fall anew. “It’s for the best, Zach. Our schedules are making this an incredible challenge already. It’ll be so much worse when I’m in law school. And I can’t be a duchess.”
“We can make our schedules work. And the duchess thing…that is not a conversation to have now,” he pleads. “It’s something we can deal with much later. In a year or two.”
“I disagree.”
He nods, and a single tear falls. I hate myself to the core for that tear. I will never be okay again.
“You disagree because you’re being a coward right now, Siren.”
I shake my head. “The brave thing is to let you go before you get too hurt.”
He rubs a hand over his face. “You’re much too late for that.”
I lower my head so he can’t see my face crumple.
“Can’t you at least wait until I get there?”
I shake my head. “There is nothing you can say that will make me believe I can live up to everything you need.”
“ I get to decide what I need ,” he growls. “Not you or anyone else.”
“I saw an interview you gave,” I confess. “You talked about your duties back home, and that you’d marry a proper duchess. Those are your words.”
He groans like a wounded animal. “Those were my words to a reporter who doesn’t matter in an interview I gave a year before I ever met you, Marina.”
“That doesn’t change anything,” I say, pushing back. “I am not capable of being a duchess. I can’t be what you need me to be. It’s easier if we walk away now.”
“You’re already everything I need. And I will never walk away from you.”
Silence. He hangs his head, shaking it disbelievingly.
“I won’t be here when you get back. Please don’t come find me. I need to focus on the proposal meeting tomorrow.”
“Oh, Marina,” he laughs bitterly, his voice a mere rasp. “I wish you’d fight for us as hard as you fight to fit in with people who don’t deserve you.”
“Someday you’ll understand,” I whisper. “I’m sorry, Zach.”
As I press disconnect, my heart shatters in a million pieces.