Page 25 of This Life of Mine

I grab her arm and gently pull her back to my side. “No.”

Val huffs dramatically.

Cassie’s eyes flash. Humiliation. Rage. Embarrassment. All fighting for dominance.

Then she looks past Val and locks onto me. “You’re only angry because Cole chose me.”

And there it fucking is. I knew it. The thing she’s been waiting years to say. The story she’s probably repeated to herself every night. The fantasy she’s built her entire self-worth around. That she won. That she was chosen. That somehow I lost.

I stare at her for a moment. Then I convey my annoyance.

“Oh, please.” I sigh heavily. “I’m not doing this.”

I’m done. Done explaining. Done defending myself. Done giving her space in my life.

I turn and begin walking away.

Then she calls after me. Loud enough for shoppers to stop and watch.

“You hate me because I give him what he needs Lina! Something you could never do.”

I stop dead in my tracks.

Val mutters. “Oh…shit.”

I turn to face her with measured calm. Cassie stands there with her arms crossed over her chest, her chin tilted high. Thatsmug little smile is still plastered across her face—the smile of someone absolutely certain she’s won.

Poor thing. Bless her little heart.

I meet her gaze and smile sweetly. “You’re probably right. I never gave that man blow jobs. I hear your head game is quite popular with all the boys.”

Cassie’s mouth falls open. Beside me, Val lets out a sharp snort before clasping a hand over her mouth.

Cassie points a trembling middle finger at me. “Fuck you!” she spits.

Her voice comes out louder than she intended, drawing a few curious glances from nearby shoppers.

I smile wider.

“Oh, and by the way,” I say casually, as if we’re discussing the weather, “tell your happy fiancé to stop contacting me and showing up at my house at one in the morning. It’s getting old.”

The confidence drains from her face so fast it’s almost impressive. Cassie freezes. Her eyes dart across my face, searching for a joke.

“That’s a fucking lie!” she snaps.

The panic underneath her anger is immediate.

I shrug lazily. “Texts. Calls. Voicemails.”

Reaching into my thigh pocket, I pull out my phone. Cassie’s eyes lock onto it.

I tap the screen and press play.God, I miss you.The sound of Cole’s voice fills the air around me.

For a second, nobody moves.

The color drains from Cassie’s face. Her lips part. Even the hand gripping her purse slackens.

Cassie blinks rapidly before forcing out a laugh. It’s weak. Desperate. Almost painful to listen to.