So he couldn't even break up with me himself?
I stared at that dark gold card. Felt sick. I picked it up and handed it right back to Diana.
"Miss Rossi, take your money. I don't need it." My voice was hoarse but firm. "As for breaking up, tell Mr. Vincent to do it himself."
Diana clearly hadn't expected that reaction. She let out a contemptuous laugh. "Miss White, break up? Where's that coming from? I think you've been deluding yourself. If we're being honest, you were just something to pass the time when he was bored."
Her words were needles, jabbing into whatever dignity I had left.
I couldn't listen anymore. I stood to leave.
Diana grabbed me, looked right at me, and said each word slowly. "You know it too, don't you? You'll never be worthy of the name 'Vincent.' You could never fit into the Vincent Family's world. Leaving now is the smartest choice you could make."
She saw my face go white, looked satisfied, then leaned close to my ear, voice dripping with smugness and mockery. "Oh, and by the way, you know what? Last night after Paul proposed to me, we were in the backstage lounge and…"
She didn't finish. Just left a loaded pause, then turned and walked away.
Ellipses are the punctuation mark that needs no explanation. Any functioning adult can fill in the rest.
I don't know how I got home. The second the door closed, all my strength drained out.
I leaned against the door, body sliding down until I collapsed onto the cold floor. Tears came without permission, streaming down my face into my collar.
She was right. The distance between Paul and me had never closed, not one millimeter, no matter how much I loved him. I thought time would make him respect me. Thought those promises about Hawaii and whales were real. I was wrong. Completely wrong.
Last night, Paul just laid it out in his usual polished way. Diana showed up with that five-hundred-thousand-dollar cardto make sure I understood. Against all those worldly gaps, the love I thought was unshakable turned out to be so fragile.
I sat crumpled on the cold tile, hand unconsciously moving to my flat stomach.
I remembered what Paul used to say, "You don't understand our world." Remembered Diana's contemptuous, disdainful eyes. Remembered my own helplessness in front of those so-called elites.
I couldn't let this child walk my path. Couldn't let him grow up standing outside that world, looking in on tiptoe, desperately trying to prove he was good enough, only to be shattered on some winter night by someone saying "you don't understand our world," someone showing up with a bank card to calculate his worth.
I wiped my face hard, stood up, and looked at myself in the mirror—pale but resolute.
I made my decision.
I dragged my suitcase out from under the bed and started packing. But as I packed, I realized how little in this rental was actually mine. Most of it was for Paul. His closet held a dozen outfits, clothes he'd changed into after staying over. Cases of the coffee he liked...
I forced myself to stop thinking. Sat on the bed. Pulled out my phone and searched for flights.
I typed "flights" into the search bar, finger scrolling aimlessly. Until "Hawaii" jumped out at me. My finger froze.
"Casey, we could settle somewhere by the ocean. You'd run your language school, I'd watch whales with you—humpback whales in Hawaii, November through March is peak season. You know when those whales breach..."
Paul said that on his apartment balcony. He had red wine, and I had hot cocoa. Boston's autumn breeze felt perfect. I buried my face in his shoulder.
Back then, I believed every word. Thought we could overcome anything, find our sanctuary in those blue waters.
I clicked confirm purchase. The place we were supposed to go together—I was going alone now.
I needed to escape. Escape Boston. Escape this city that broke my heart, suffocated me.
I'd take this secret, take this child, leave Boston for Hawaii. Start over. Build a clean, equal life for my child with my own two hands.
Chapter Seven
Casey
