“And I did all that for you.I want to see you succeed and live your dream.Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“But I want to do it the right way.”Tears roll down my cheeks.“People hate me, Clark.Even Laird hates me.”
I cry harder, my chest tight, my nose running, my whole body trembling as if I’m falling apart.I wipe my cheeks with both hands.Alan reaches out to touch me, but I slap his hand away.
“Don’t touch me.”My voice drips with venom.
He drops his hand, eyes cast down.What?He feels guilty now?Oh, no way.
I grab my phone, turn the network back on, and shove it toward him.The screen lights up and continues to buzz with notifications.
“You see?My career’s trashed, all thanks to you.”My voice drips with sarcasm.“Laird hates me, my fans left me, and Mallory, who called herself my best friend—where the hell is she now?You should be thankful my mom didn’t see that ad and still took your money.”
I wait while Alan scrolls through the flood of hateful comments.He exhales sharply and hands the phone back.
“I’m sorry, Fenella.I didn’t mean to hurt you.”His voice drops, his posture slumps the way Clark used to when he got rejected.
“Then what?You trying to get back at me for rejecting you before?”I say, my patience fading fast.
“No.It’s not like that.”His face tightens, guilt written all over it.
Damn, he’s good.If this is acting, he’s got the part nailed.The pity that creeps up in my chest only pisses me off more.I take a deep breath and remind myself not to cause another public meltdown.The group of gossiping moms nearby already gave us enough attention.
“Alright, start talking.Don’t leave out a single thing, or I’ll walk out and leave you here.”
“I’ll tell you everything.No lies,” he says quietly with a firm stare.
No matter how many times he says that, I don’t buy it.Any other woman sitting here would.He’s too good-looking.Those dark eyes, that stubble, the smooth voice that could make anyone forget what he’s done.But not me.
“Are you firing Jessy?”
“I told you, if you don’t quit Gene, he stays,” he says in that maddeningly calm tone.
“Why does Jessy’s job depend on me?”I frown, refusing to accept his logic.
“Because he hasn’t been performing.I tried pairing him with Mike, and they ended up dating.You know that, right?He’s been distracted.”He says it so easily, like he’s practiced the line.“He depends on you more than the other way around.So if you’re not with Gene, I can’t keep him.”
His words slip under my skin, planting doubt where I don’t want it.“But Jessy needs this job.He’s paying for his mom’s treatment.”
“Well, bad luck.Everyone’s got problems.But if you stay, he stays.We can fix all of this together.”His voice softens again, trying to reel me back in.
Part of me knows he’s making sense.The other part knows he’s still hiding something, especially about Amy.I rub my eyebrow and stare him down.The cold wind bit against my skin, suffocating to connect all the dots.
“Are you really Clark Thomson?”
“Yes, that was my name.”He opens his hands like he’s surrendering.
“My chemistry classmate?My dance partner at the year-end dance in tenth grade?”
“Yeah.You must be shocked how much I’ve changed.”His elbows rest on the table as he leans closer, a small smile tugging at his lips.
For a moment, I just stare at him.His hair’s black now, styled and neat, no trace of the red curls.The baby fat’s gone, replaced by sharp angles and muscle.His whole presence is different.He looks sturdy, stronger, more confident—like he owns this world under his palm.
I swallow, trying to process it all.“Why did you do all this?”
He looks straight at me.There’s a pause, long enough to make my heartbeat loud in my ears.His lips part like he’s about to say something else but hesitates.
“I love you, Fenella.”
