Mia’s body went rigid.
Then she grabbed his arms and shoved them away, stumbling forward a step before spinning around to face him.
“Yes,” she snapped. “Exactly.”
Her eyes blazed.
“You had five years to talk to me,” she continued. “And what did you do instead? Don’t you remember?”
Her anger surged as the memories spilled out.
“Every time I called you, you ignored me. Every time I brought you breakfast, you removed the chairs from the table so I wouldn’t sit with you.”
James stiffened.
“You locked yourself in your study,” she continued bitterly. “No matter how many times I knocked, you never opened the door for me. But the maids? You let them in on the very first knock.”
Her chest rose and fell sharply.
“How many times did I try to sit beside you on the couch and have a conversation with you?” she demanded. “And what did you do?” She stepped closer, voice shaking with fury. “You stood up. And you walked away.”
Her voice sharpened, memories cutting deeper with every word.
“On my twentieth birthday, I asked you to cut a cake with me. Just sit with me and celebrate.” A bitter smile touched her lips. “What did you do? You threw the cake into the trash and told me to stop being childish.”
Her hands trembled as she continued.
“When I had a burning fever and could barely stand, I called you and asked you to take me to the hospital. What did you say? You told me to go with a maid and stop bothering you with my problems.”
She swallowed hard.
“Every time I tried to talk to you, you said you were busy. That my matters weren’t worth your time.”
Her breathing grew uneven.
“And when my parents died…” Her voice dropped, hollow. “I called you. You picked up—and within five seconds, you said you were busy and told me to handle it myself.”
She laughed softly, a sound stripped of humor.
“It didn’t even surprise me, James. Do you hear me? That’s what hurts the most. I actually expected it from you.” Her eyes filled, but she refused to look away. “And yet—I still called you.”
Tears slid down her cheeks. She wiped them away quickly, angrily.
“Do you know how much it hurt?” she whispered. “When my entire world collapsed? When every last blood relative I had died, right in front of my eyes—and I had no shoulder to cry on?”
Her gaze hardened.
“You wouldn’t understand,” she whispered. “Because you’ve never loved anyone more than yourself—or your business.”
She drew in a shaky breath and looked at him again. James stood frozen in front of her, his face pale, body rigid—but she didn’t stop.
“For a long time, I dreamed of having a good marriage.” Her voice softened, heavy with loss. “After my parents, you were the only person I wanted to spend my life with. You were my entire world.”
Her voice dropped.
“And you just… didn’t care.”
Guilt flooded James’s face. The pain there was obvious—raw, crushing—but it came far too late. Mia felt nothing when she saw it.
