Page 120 of Pink Ink

What was the point of gifting me the painting? Or revealing his identity? None of this makes sense.

He shrugs, sorting through the paperwork on his desk like I’m not there.

“Look at me, youasshole.” I seethe, slamming my trembling hand on the desk when he doesn’t.Just look at me. Why can’t you fucking look at me?“Fuck you and your Jekyll-and-Hyde bullshit.”

He just told Abi that he wants to be with me, for fuck’s sake.

Finally,finally, he looks at me. But it hurts more because he doesn’t spare me more than a sideways glance. “Careful, Miss Sinaga. I do not tolerate abuse from my students.”

He throws the words out like he couldn’t care less if he spoke or not. Like I’m not worth his time or energy. Like I’m forgettable.

Mom would forget that I was there, too busy thinking about Dad. My own father didn’t even remember that he had a daughter.

“After everything we’ve been through. Everything you’ve told me. The secrets you’ve shared… you want to… You’re walking away?” I sputter.

Why does everyone keep leaving me? I can’t do this again. I can’t keep caring for people only for them to be ripped away from me.

Every aspect of me is flawed.Lacking. Pathetic. I’ll never be a director like I wanted. My father was never going to love me. Mom was never going to pick me over her soulmate. I’ll never amount to anything more than a passing phase—a backup—toanyone. I’m wasted space. The blank wall between paintings at a museum.

Maddox’s jaw feathers as he flicks through the pages of a book. “I do believe I’ve made that obvious.”

There’s no inflection in his tone. Nothing that would suggest how he’s feeling. His walls are up, and the mask he wears like a second skin is on tight. Our progress was a lie.Everythingwas a lie.

Red tints my vision. I can’t stand looking at him. He’s so put together while I’m crumbling apart. I want to throw things, scream, ask him how he can be such a vile human being.

“I risked my reputation for you. My career. My safety. Mydignity. I was going to move past your relationship status. I was going to talk to youand figure out how to move forward. Howwecan move forward. I don’t understand. Why are you doing this? I thought… I thought we—”

I cut myself off. I won’t keep pouring my heart out when he doesn’t care. He doesn’t deserve any part of me. I said my piece as he leafed through his book.

“God, I believed you. Itrustedyou. How could I be so stupid? How many other people have you screwed over like this? Huh? Is this how you get your kicks when killing doesn’t cut it?” I growl, fighting the hot, angry tears.I just want to know why?

He shrugs as if to say,Get over it. “Are you done?”

I swallow down a shuddering breath.

Pull yourself together.

Taking a deep breath, I straighten my spine and look him dead in the eyes. “Yes. Yes, we are.”

Fine.

So be it.

Fuck him. Fuck his art. And fuck everything to do with Maddox Fucking Shaw.

I turn as calmly as I can and walk away. My vision blurs the more distance I put between us. It feels like the building rattles when I slam the door behind me. The final nail in the coffin.

The sound of furniture crashing echoes through the hall, coming from his room. Followed by a loud, guttural“Fuck.”

Yes.

I agree.

Fuck Maddox Shaw.

MADDOX

“Miss Sinaga, please ensure you have your essay emailed to me by midnight tomorrow.”