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No. That’s not how real life works. People need to put in the work to fix themselves, and while I’ve done it, Rowan hasn’t. He’s too afraid. Too selfish. Too consumed by his drive formore, without even realizing what exactly he wants more of. I thought he wanted more of me, but I put stock in something make-believe.
“I’m sorry for hurting you.” His voice drops to a whisper.
The lump in my throat becomes a living, breathing thing, blocking my ability to breathe. “And I’m sorry for ever thinking you were better than the selfish, cruel man everyone labels you as.”
He flinches. It’s the first sign of real, raw emotion I’ve seen from him today.
He looks away and nods. “I see.”
A tear betrays me, sliding down my cheek. I swipe it away. “I’ll find a way to repay you for everything because I want nothing to do with you or your money again. Even if it takes me my whole life to pay off this damn room, I’ll do it.”
His throat bobs. “I don’t want—”
I cut him off before he can sink his claws further into my heart. “I’m feeling tired all of a sudden.”
He nods. “Of course. I never meant to distress you while you’re feeling this way.”
I say nothing.
“Do you want me to stay until your parents come back?” He looks at the chair closest to my bed.
“No. I’d rather be alone, but thanks for everything again.” My voice is cold and withdrawn—a perfect match for him.
“But—”
It’s immature, but I turn my back toward him and the door. I don’t want to talk anymore. I’m too afraid I might lose it in front of him. Tears stream down my face, creating a wet spot on my pillow.
Rowan lets out a deep breath. His footsteps match the beat of the heart monitor.
I jolt when his hand brushes across my hair.
He presses his lips against the top of my head. “You deserve the world and more.”
The door to my room clicks closed, leaving me behind with nothing but beeping machines and my painful sobs to keep me company.
45
Rowan
Iexit Zahra’s hospital room with a tight throat and a burning sensation in my chest. Hurting her was the last thing I wanted to do, but it’s necessary. Loving her isn’t an option. I have too much at stake and not enough flexibility to have her and the lifestyle I’ve spent my entire life pursuing. Earning my shares of the company needs to come first. If not for me, then for my brothers.
Zahra might not see it my way, but this is all for the best. We never had a future past two months, and it would have been cruel for both of us to keep pursuing something that had an end date. I didn’t realize how much my feelings were developing until I found her bleeding in my bathroom. Breaking her heart was inevitable. But I found my timing less cruel than leading her on because I wanted more time before I left Dreamland for good.
This was the right choice, no matter how hard it feels right now. If difficult decisions were easy, everyone would make them. These are the kinds of choices that make me good at my job.
That’s what I tell myself as I walk out of the hospital despite the heavy feeling pressing against my lungs.
* * *
For the fourth time tonight, I turn my body and try to find a comfortable position. It’s been three days since the hospital, and I have had maybe ten hours of sleep total.
I swipe my phone off the nightstand and check the time.
Three in the fucking morning.
If I can’t get a full night’s rest, I’ll be running on fumes by the end of the week. And with the vote fast approaching, I don’t have time for this shit.
I grab a pillow and tug it against my chest. It still smells like Zahra’s perfume, and I feel stupid pressing it against my face and taking another sniff.
