Mia’s eyes flew open like he’d just cursed her.
“What do youmeanI’m not halfway through my life?” she demanded. “This thing goes all the way to a hundred years?” She frowned hard, clearly trying to calculate something important. “I thought I was… done already.”
Gavin lost it.
The more seriously she tried to explain her reasoning, the worse it got. She launched into a passionate rant—disastrous marriages, stupid men, emotional trauma, and how every single one of them should be a public service announcement against love. Gavin laughed until his sides hurt, barely able to breathe.
Then Mia stopped mid-rant.
“You know what?” she said, lifting one finger like she’d just uncovered the secrets of the universe. “One day, I’m going to buy a man.”
Gavin choked on his laugh.
“I’ll keep him,” she continued solemnly. “Train him. Rearrange a few parts in his head so he’s at leasta littlesane.” She nodded to herself, clearly pleased with the plan. “That seems efficient.”
Gavin was shaking now, laughing so hard he had to brace a hand on the table.
Mid-sentence, she pushed herself to her feet.
The world immediately tilted.
She stumbled, her balance slipping.
Gavin rushed forward and caught her just in time, one hand coming up to steady her shoulder.
“Hey, hey, hey,” he said quickly, concern threading through his voice. “Are you all right? Do you need some water?”
Mia blinked up at him, her pupils unfocused. The lights blurred, the room tilted—and then nausea slammed into her.
Without a word, she twisted out of his hold and hurried toward the washroom across the room.
She shoved the door open and slammed it shut behind her. The moment she reached the sink, she bent over and started throwing up, her body shaking as she gripped the porcelain.
A few moments later, Gavin followed and knocked softly on the door.
“Mia,” he called gently. “Do you need help? Should I come in?”
There was no reply.
Instead, the lock clicked from the inside.
Mia turned on the tap and splashed cold water onto her face again and again, gripping the edges of the sink as she tried to steady herself. Her breathing was uneven, her hands trembling slightly.
And then—without warning—her vision blurred.
Tears welled up, spilling over before she could stop them.
She stared at her reflection in the mirror: her hair tied messily, strands clinging to her damp cheeks; her face flushed and blotchy; her eyes glassy, red, and swollen. Her chest tightened painfully, like something was squeezing her heart from the inside.
“I’m only twenty-three,” she whispered, her voice barely holding together. “And I’ve already been fooled in marriage by two men.”
Her lips trembled as the words sank in. “My life isn’t even halfway done yet…” Her voice cracked. “So why does it already feel this bad?”
The dam finally broke.
She bent forward slightly, pressing her hands to the sink as quiet sobs shook her shoulders. She tried to breathe—tried to calm herself—but the hurt came in waves, stealing the air from her lungs.
Outside the washroom, with no response from her, Gavin stepped back and waited. He paced slowly, running a hand through his hair, his gaze never leaving the closed door.
