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Everything I’ve been forcing down for weeks twists violently inside my chest.

Turning fully to him, I stare at his sharp profile even though he refuses to take his eyes off the road.

“Rich coming from you, thinking you can accuse me of anything,” I spit back, rage sharpening every word.

Another humorless laugh slips from him as he gives me a brief sideways glance.

“Oh no, Selene.” He says my name as if it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. “I’m not accusing you of anything. At the end of the day, he is your fiancé. It was only natural you’d unblock him eventually.”

I found out Zayn had blocked my ex after he started texting me from another number. I checked my Settings afterward and saw his contact sitting in the blocked list.

“First of all,” I fire back angrily, “this is a different number. I saved it so I’d know who was calling and avoid answering.”

The anger running through me has reached every part of my body. My hands tremble, my voice shaking with them. Still, I force myself to rein it in because I know my accent thickens whenever I’m this emotional, and the last thing I want is for him to have trouble understanding me.

“Second, I didn’t unblock him, and I have absolutely no intention of doing it.”

For the first time, his gaze lands directly on me.

We’re already outside the city, heading to the neighborhood where they live, and this stretch of road is nearly empty. No traffic. Nothing to stop him from stealing a glance at me for a few seconds.

“And third,” I continue, refusing to back down, “you’re not in any position to accuse me of anything.”

“Of course I’m not,” he shoots back. “Only you’re allowed to accuse people of things—including things that never happened or things that happened before you.”

His voice rises with the final words, each one cutting sharper than the last.

It’s the first time in a long while that I see him this affected. Truly involved.

I’ve gotten so used to his indifference that seeing this much emotion from him knocks the air from my lungs.

“I don’t remember accusing you of fucking three women before you were with me,” I snap back just as loudly. “All I said was that we were over.”

“Yeah, I got that the first time,” he replies sarcastically.

Again, refusing to look at me.

We reach the gates to their property, and he lowers the window, scans his palm, then enters the access code.

Immediately after the gates slide open, he accelerates down the private road leading to the houses.

“I could tell you understood,” I say, my voice trembling again. “You moved on unbelievably fast. Congratulations, Zayn.”

“What exactly are you trying to say?” he asks, and this time his eyes cut to mine.

The car continues moving forward at a dangerous speed.

“I’m saying that, exactly as expected, you went back to your life almost immediately,” I answer, my gaze darting between him and the road as if I’m the one driving. “Could you maybe watch the road?”

He slows, looks ahead for two seconds, then turns back to me.

“And what did you expect me to do?” He mocks me.

“Nothing,” I answer with venom. “I’m just glad I finally realized how much you cared…”

I swallow hard.

“…or rather, not at all.”