Page 94 of Spring Break Fling

HANNAH

My heart felt shattered. I could feel the little pieces rattling around in my chest. I sat in the Uber, staring blankly out the window as tears silently rolled down my cheeks. Miami’s vibrant streets blurred with my pain and regret. How had everything gone so wrong?

Just two weeks ago, I was so sure of my plan. Come back, get revenge, walk away triumphant. But somewhere along the way, something had shifted. Nikko wasn’t just some conquest or target anymore. He was… everything.

My phone buzzed. I knew it wasn’t Nikko. He wouldn’t contact me now. Not after what Jessie revealed. In trying to orchestrate some elaborate revenge, I’d done the unthinkable. I’d fallen for him instead.

And now, I was the one with a wounded heart.

I couldn’t even really explain why I felt so rotten. We had already said our goodbyes. We weren’t going to see each other again anyway.

So, why did this feel so tragic?

“Are you okay, miss?” The driver looked at me through the rearview mirror.

“Yes. I’m fine.”

“Heartbreak,” he said with a knowing tone.

I stared out the window, his words echoing in my mind. Was that what this was? I’d never experienced anything like it before. My life had always been meticulously planned—career goals, financial targets, strategic networking. Emotions were something I managed, not something that managed me.

But Nikko had been different from the start.

I’d been so focused on my ridiculous revenge plot but now, sitting in this Uber with tears streaming down my face, I realized how much I’d changed. How much he’d changed me.

My phone buzzed again. This time, it was my boss.

“Hannah? Are you on track to return tomorrow?”

I cleared my throat, trying to sound professional. “Yes, absolutely.”

But was I really?

The thought of returning to my carefully curated life in Boise suddenly felt suffocating. The pristine office, the predictable meetings, the safe and controlled environment—it all seemed so bland compared to the raw, passionate weeks I’d spent with Nikko.

How could I go back to my boring life after riding on the back of his bike racing through the Miami nightlife?

I realized I was holding my breath, my fingers unconsciously tracing the compass and rose tattoo on my arm. The ink that was supposed to be my revenge had become my most treasured memory.

The Uber pulled up to my hotel. I got out, tipped the driver, and walked inside, my mind a whirlwind of emotions. Everything felt wrong—empty.

I knew I should start packing. My flight was tomorrow morning. But instead, I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at my phone.

I didn’t dare call him. He knew my number. If he wanted to call me, he would. I crawled into bed and cried myself to sleep.

The following morning, I told myself I was fine. I was over it. I was going to move on. This whole thing was a mistake. Not Nikko, but what I did. I believed in learning from mistakes.

I started to pack, methodically folding each piece of clothing. Everything was precisely placed, just like my life used to be before Nikko turned everything upside down. It was all about finding control. About protecting me from the raw emotions that threatened to ruin everything.

My phone buzzed. I didn’t even look, assuming it was another work email or my boss checking in about my return. I missed one meeting and he was acting like I needed a babysitter.

I swallowed down the frustration. It was Tara. Last night, I had gone to bed and not bothered to tell anyone about the fiasco. I quickly texted her and let her know I was packing and would text her after I checked in at the airport.

My flight was scheduled for early afternoon, giving me just enough time to finish packing and check out of the hotel. Every movement felt mechanical, like I was disconnected from my own body.

I got to the airport, got through security, and sat down to wait for boarding. I quickly texted the girls in the group chat to give them a condensed version of what happened yesterday. Their comments were as I expected.

My phone buzzed again. This time, it was an email from my boss, Clarke, with the subject line: “Urgent - Project Update Needed.”