Chapter 3

The guys were barely holding back their laughter.

I froze. Anger surged through me.

Simon stood right next to Julia, shot me a glance, and chuckled.

At that moment, something inside me broke. Maybe it was eighteen years of friendship, or maybe my feelings for him.

Without thinking, I snatched the coffee from the table and hurled it at Julia's face.

Julia screamed. Her makeup immediately smudged, and coffee ran down her cheeks like two dark tear tracks.

Julia wiped at her face in a panic, her eyeliner now a messy clump. "Mandy, are you insane?"

I sneered, copying her usual tone. " I thought you were not into makeup. Since when do you wear a full beat to work? You're more done up than I am. How can you claim you're 'not into that girly stuff'?"

Some of my colleagues rushed in to restrain me, while Simon grabbed my cup from me, his gaze icy. "Mandy, apologize. Now."

I locked eyes with him, my eyes stinging with unshed tears, but my voice came out steady. "When she humiliated me, you laughed and did nothing. And now you want me to apologize, huh?"

He frowned, like he was lecturing a stubborn kid. "Stop acting childish. Violence is unacceptable. Apologize."

"Fuck you," I shot back.

The air froze for a second. Before I could react, Simon slapped me hard across the face.

My ears were ringing. I heard Julia's smug sniffles, the coworkers' whispers, and something that had lasted eighteen years between Simon and me shattering with that slap.

I slowly looked up at the man who used to fight for me.

"Nice move, Simon," I said quietly. "We're done."

*****

The door slammed shut behind me, and the motion sensor light in the entryway flickered on.

I ran into my room and started frantically going through everything.

I snatched the figurine from the top shelf, the pink hoodie he gave me, and the faded movie tickets. Everything with Simon's mark got shoved into a box without a second thought.

A crystal ball tumbled off the bookshelf and shattered on the floor. It was the one Simon had stayed up all night to make for my eighteenth birthday, with a tiny house in it.

The note read: [Simon loves Mandy.]

I looked at the broken pieces and suddenly laughed.

I hoisted the heavy box and carried it outside, tossing it into the trash can, startling a few sparrows into flight.

After I finished, my parents still weren't home, so I called my mom.

I said calmly, "Mom, cancel the engagement. Simon and I are over."

*****

When my mom got home, I was sitting there with an ice pack pressed to my face.

She gasped, and her hands started shaking. "Who did this to you?"

I leaned into her shoulder, smelled her perfume, and started crying like a child.

Simon's coldness, Julia's mocking laughter, and those piercing stares from everyone in the office all came crashing back at once. All the grievances I had been swallowing finally broke loose.

After I finished telling her everything, my mom, who had always been gentle and elegant, immediately stormed out.

Allison, Simon's mother, opened the door, wearing her apron and holding a bunch of flowers she was about to trim. "Hi, what's wrong?"

"Simon hit Mandy for an intern," my mom said sharply. "Allison, the Craig family has always treated the Sawyer family well. And I've never laid a finger on my daughter. How could your son—"

Allison stammered, "Simon didn't mean it. Maybe—"

My mom cut her off, not wanting to hear another word. "That's enough. The engagement is off."

That night, my mom held me as we sat by the bay window, the familiar scent of jasmine on her reminding me of the times when I had a fever as a child, and she had held me like this all night long.

I mumbled, burying my face in her shoulder, "Mom, am I being too selfish? Will this affect your business?"

She gently ran her fingers through my hair. "Yeah, it will have some impact, but that's not your problem, sweetheart. Don't let anyone hurt you. If anything happens, your dad will handle it."

*****

The next day, Simon pounded on the door like crazy.

When I opened it, I saw him standing under the dim light, breathing hard, holding the wet box.

"Mandy." His voice was rough. "What's wrong with you?"

I silently tilted my face up, letting him see the handprint on my left cheek.

After a night, the slap on my face looked worse. Bruises had spread, and the finger marks were stamped into my face.

Simon's eyes went wide in shock.

"How did it end up like this?" He reached out, then stopped before touching my face. "I swear, I didn't use that much force."

I sneered and avoided his hand.

I used to show him a tiny paper cut on purpose and pout, saying, "Simon, it hurts."

He'd always complain that I was such a crybaby, but he'd still carefully stick a bandage on for me.

Now, he was the one who hit me.

Simon had never seen me this indifferent before, and for a second, he stared at me, totally stunned. "I'm sorry, Mandy. I didn't mean it. You were bullying that intern at work, and I got too angry—"

I cut him off. "Since you're here, let's get this straight. From today on, we're over. The engagement is off.

"Simon, from now on, don't act like you have anything to do with me. If you see me on the street, stay away. And don't ever knock on my door again."

His eyes tightened like he was hurt.

Night crept in between us and cast a soft light on him.

"Get lost," I said, leaning against the doorframe.