Chapter 4

Back inside, I stayed locked in the bathroom for hours until Richard came knocking.

His voice drifted through the door, thick with impatience. "Is all this drama over that car? Fine, I bought you one, okay? Come out and look."

I pulled the door open and looked him dead in the eye. "I stopped wanting that car a long time ago."

His jaw tightening, he held back a temper tantrum. "Quit being stubborn. The car is downstairs, so drop the attitude. You used to be reasonable."

A subtle condescension lingered in his eyes, as if my entire existence depended on him and buying me a vehicle was an act of supreme charity.

Rather than listen to my answer, he grabbed my arm and dragged me down to the parking garage. There it sat: a plain, stripped-down, base-trim black Mini Cooper without a single upgrade.

I kept my gaze low and said nothing.

Richard pulled open the driver's door and nudged me inside. "Weren't you talking about bragging on social media the other day? Go ahead, take your photo. Still not happy?"

"I saw Emily's post, Richard," I said, my voice level and calm, a faint, detached smile touching my lips. "Do you think people won't laugh if I post this base-model hand-me-down?"

It finally clicked how cheap the gesture looked compared to Emily's fully loaded model. "Look, my bad, I didn't think about that," he muttered, pausing before adding, "Just drive it as a runabout. If you don't post about it, nobody has to know."

Before I could answer, a pink car came barreling down the garage ramp out of control. Emily's shrill scream echoed through the concrete space. "The steering's locked. Mr. Grant, help."

Richard yelled without missing a beat, "Aim for the black car! Use it as a barrier." He completely forgot I was sitting in the driver's seat.

The brutal impact rattled my skull, knocking me out cold.

When my senses slowly returned through the haze, Emily was sniffling nearby. "I forgot some files on my way out, and when I turned around, the wheel slipped out of my hands—"

Richard's voice was rattled but comforting. "You're fine, and that's what matters. I can pay for the damage. How about I get you a brand new one?"

Emily let out a relieved giggle. "Wait, whose ugly black car is this anyway?"

"Cheap fleet model," Richard replied indifferently. "Doesn't matter if it's totaled."

They stood feet away from the crumpled frame, entirely oblivious to the fact that I was still sitting inside the car he considered disposable, or that I had passed out.

The cabin felt suffocating. I woke up and cracked the window, gasping for air before crawling out of the seat. My knees buckled beneath me, almost sending me to the concrete floor.

Clinging to the rail, I dragged my aching body up the stairs.

The apartment was pitch black.

I pulled out my phone, booked the earliest flight to Metroton, and systematically deleted every pinned chat, calendar alert, and shared memo tied to Richard.

I shut the closet and looked around the place I had painstakingly turned into a home. A pot of sweet soup sat on the counter, prepped that morning to soothe his stomach.

I left every single belonging behind; none of it held value anymore.

Grabbing a sticky note from the counter, I wrote two words: [We're done.]