Zoella's pov

  Next Morning

   Sunlight punched through the curtains, dragging me out of my sleepy haze. 

        My head was pounding. It felt like I had been run over by a truck and abandoned by the side of the road. The pounding wasn't just physical; it was emotional, too.

        I winced, dragging the sheets tighter around my body and over my face as I stirred on the king-sized bed. 

        The first thing I noticed, besides the pounding in my head, was that I was alone.

        The second? I was very naked beneath the covers. 

        My heart skidded in my chest as I lifted the blanket slowly and peeked down at my naked frame.

        Did we...? 

        Did I?

        I sat up slowly, like my skull might fall off if I moved too fast, and took stock of the room.

        My dress from the night before was folded neatly on the armchair, like someone had cared just enough to not leave it crumpled on the floor, but not enough to stick around and say goodbye.

        There was a tray of untouched food on the table-croissants, scrambled eggs, and a steaming mug of something that no longer steamed.

        But no Julian.

         Was that even his real name?

        No note. No goodbye. Just the faint memory of him lingering in the air-his cologne and whatever the hell he did to me last night that made my thighs sore and my heart confused.

        My head throbbed as I tried to piece it together: We kissed. Or at least, I think we did. I remembered pressing against him... the feel of his mouth near my ear... his voice low and dangerous, the feel of his huge cock as I stroked it. And then-

        Blank.

        Shit. 

        I couldn't even remember if I had managed to come at least. 

        For fucks sake, Zoe. First time cheating and you don't even have a memory to savor?

        I buried my face in my hands. Had I thrown myself at him and blacked out mid-seduction?

        Maybe he stopped things before they went too far. That seemed like something a man like Julian would do. Rational, cold, and in control.

        Ugh.

        I pressed a hand to my forehead, and that's when it hit me.

        Not the memory of Julian's lips or whatever we may or may not have done.

        No.

        Liam.

        As a rusty blade shoved through my chest, the memory of him came flooding back-his mouth on Madison, his hands where they had no business being, the betrayal lighting up behind my eyes like a bomb. 

        The best friend and the fiancé. That would make a good movie title.

        My life is exploding like a poorly written soap opera.

        I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to shut out the image, but it was like trying to unsee porn. It was branded in my brain.

        God, I could still hear him.

        "Zoe, it's not what it looks like."

        Sure. Because your tongue just tripped and accidentally fell into her mouth, Liam.

        I huffed out a breath and rolled my eyes at the ceiling. "Men. Even at their worst, they're still impressively stupid."

        I climbed out of bed and got dressed in last night's dress as my mind raced with several thoughts. The top of which was.

        Where do I go from here?

        •••••

        Later That Morning.

        The cab was too quiet. Even with the radio humming low and the driver mumbling into his headset, everything around me felt... muted. 

        Like I'd been dunked underwater.

        I pressed my forehead to the window, the cool glass a small relief from the heat crawling up my neck. My hands were balled tight in my lap, my fingernails digging crescents into my palms. 

        I didn't even realize I was shaking until I looked down and saw the tremors run through me like aftershocks.

        How could he do this to me?

        A single tear slipped down my cheek, and I didn't bother wiping it away. More followed anyway, so there was no point.

        It wasn't just the cheating that hurt.

        It was the betrayal.

        Liam.

        Fiancé. Cheat. Coward. Walking cliché.

        I stared out the window, watching New York fly by. My stomach twisted as the thought of going back to that house hit me again.

        We bought it together. My name is on the documents. My money went into that place.

         My Pinterest boards picked out the damn curtains. I wasn't about to let a lying, gaslighting dickbag chase me out of my own home.

        I gave him love, patience, and loyalty.

        And he gave my best friend his body.

        A sob clawed up my throat,t and I pressed the back of my hand against my mouth to silence it. 

        I caught the driver staring at me from his rearview mirror. 

        Perhaps a crying woman who smelled like tequila wasn't what he saw every day. 

        Just then, my phone buzzed with a new message. 

        I turned it off last night. Not wanting to be bothered by the weight of phone calls or messages. 

        But now it was on, and I couldn't escape reality anymore.

         I glanced down at the phone. It was Liam. I opened it and saw the thread of messages.

        Liam: 'Zoe. Please, I'm sorry. I'm trying to reach you, but your calls all keep going to voicemail.' 9:00 pm

        Liam: 'Zo Please come home so we can talk about this. I never meant to hurt you. It was a mistake, and I was drunk. '

        10:40 pm

        Liam: 'Zoe, please i'm really worried. Please call or text back. I promise this will never happen again.'

       11:50 p.m.

        My eyes scrolled down to the most recent.

        Liam: 'Zo, please let me make it up to you. I called all night, but no response. I drove around the neighborhood, but there was no sign of you. I'm waiting outside. I love you,u please come home.' 

        7:40 am

        I turned off my phone in disgust. 

        A mistake? 

        Drunk? 

        My heart pounded so hard I thought it might give out right there in the back of the Uber. 

        But through the pain and disgust I felt, which was sharp and bone-deep, a new emotion crept in like smoke.

        Rage. 

        The nerve of that man. 

        My first reaction yesterday was to run.

         But no, I wasn't going to run.

        I wasn't going to beg him to love me again or forgive him. 

        A wicked smile crept across my lips as an idea suddenly struck me. 

        No. I was going to pretend.

        I was going to perform.

        If Liam wanted a good girl, he shouldn't have made me the villain.

        I had a plan. Oh, it was petty. It was delicious. It was me.

        First, I'd tell him I forgave him. I'd play the role of the heartbroken woman who just couldn't bear to throw everything away. 

        Who still wanted to hold onto her home and her man.

        I'd let him believe he still had me.

        And just when he relaxes and lets his guard down, when he thinks he still has me wrapped around his disgusting fingers. I'd rip the mask off and hurt him the way he hurt me, embarrass him the way he had embarrassed me.

        Let's see if that apology still tastes the same when it's laced with public shame.

        I sat straighter, smoothed my hair back like a woman with purpose.

        The car pulled into our driveway.

        And there he was.

        Waiting by the door like a sad puppy who'd chewed through his leash and knew the vet was coming.

        I wasn't leaving my house. He would be the one to leave.

        I stepped out of the car on shaking legs, wiping my face quickly with my sleeves. I didn't want him to see me broken.

        "Zoe," he breathed. "Thank God. I-I didn't know where you were. I called, I texted-I was losing my mind-"

        I kept walking. Past him and straight to the door.

        He trailed behind me like a shadow.

        "Zoe, please. I'm sorry. I was drunk, I didn't even know what I was doing. Madison came onto me. It wasn't supposed to happen-she kept saying you didn't love me anymore, and I-God, I messed up."

        I didn't respond. I didn't even look at him. My key jammed slightly in the lock. I forced it in and pushed the door open.

        Inside, it felt like the air itself had turned stale and cold. It smelled like a cheating fiancé and a backstabbing friend. 

        The home I built had turned into a battlefield overnight.

        I dropped my bag on the floor and went straight to the fridge. My throat was dry, my mouth tasted like tequila and something else I couldn't name.

        I opened the fridge, grabbed the water bottle, and poured it into a glass with hands that still trembled. I needed to feel something steady.

        Something that didn't lie or sleep with my best friend.

        Behind me, Liam was still talking. Still begging.

        "I love you, Zoe. I swear to God, I love you. Please... please don't give up on us. I'll do anything. I'll block her. I'll go to therapy. I'll never touch a drop of alcohol again. I'll-"

        I turned around slowly, glass in hand.

        His eyes were red. He looked like he hadn't slept. He looked like hell.

        Good.

        "I forgive you," I said quietly with a slow, practiced fake smile.

        His shoulders sagged in relief, but just like he realised what I had said, he blinked. "Wait, you do?"

        "Yes, Liam. I blame Madison. I always knew she wanted you." I added, my voice sickly sweet. "She came onto you, right? You were drunk, so she seduced you. So really, this is her fault. Right?"

        He nodded eagerly. "Yes-yes. Exactly. She manipulated everything." 

        Fool.

        I smiled bitterly, taking a long sip of water. "Of course she did. I should have caught her off the moment I noticed her always ogling you."

         "Yes, Zo. She wasn't to be trusted. She has always been jealous of you," he rushed out in an attempt to placate me, but all it ended up doing was make him look foolish. 

        "It's okay. Now I know better. Let's just move on."I flashed him that smile again.

        But inside, something in me snapped into place as my heart pounded in my chest, the need for revenge growing hotter.

        I would stay. For now.

        And when the time came?

        I would break him the way he broke me.

        Because one thing was certain.

        I wasn't just going to move on.

        I was going to make him wish he had moved on instead of asking for forgiveness.

ZOELLA'S POV

         Liam had been hovering around me all day like a bee chasing honey. It had taken all of my willpower to pretend that his presence didn't nauseate me. 

         My father had texted me hours ago, summoning me to the family house. So here I was, standing in front of the home I hadn't lived in for years.

          It was still the same red tiled roof lined with the same sharp-edged roses sprinkled along the walkway. But somehow, the dread in my chest felt just as fresh as it did back then.

         I hadn't even made it past the foyer when I heard my name.

         "Zoella!"

         The deep baritone of my father's voice reverberated through the air like a whip. I barely had time to square my shoulders before his figure emerged from the living room, eyes already ablaze with fury.

         "What the hell are you thinking?" His voice boomed. "Do you want to burn everything we've built to the ground?"

         Before I could ask what everything was supposed to be, his palm met my cheek with a sharp, humiliating sting that echoed across the room.

         My head jerked sideways as I staggered back, my palms flying to the burning side of my face. My body locked, and I was too stunned to speak. The silence afterward screamed louder than his words ever could.

         Tears stung my eyes, but I sniffed in quick succession, refusing to let them fall. 

         I couldn't cry, not here, not in front of him.

         "Have you lost your damn mind!?" he bellowed. "Do you know what you've done? Liam called me last night in a panic. Said you stormed out. What did you do, Zoella?"

         I blinked. Once. Twice. The sting on my cheek was nothing compared to the way my chest caved in.

         "I-he-"

         "No! Don't talk back. You think you can just throw tantrums because a man made a drunken mistake?" He sneered. "You think you're some princess? You're not irreplaceable, Zoella. After everything Liam has done for you, you're going to throw it away over what, huh?"

         My mouth fell open. I couldn't believe that my father was calling Liam's actions a drunken mistake. "He cheated on me."

         "And you'll cheat the family out of a wedding because your feelings are hurt? You've always been so impulsive and dramatic, and now you want to show that you're incapable of preserving a golden match," he continued to lash out.

         I stared at my father, too stunned to speak. I couldn't find the words. My chest burned, not just from anger but also from betrayal. Again. 

         This time from the man who was supposed to protect me.

          "Fa-father," the word came out strangled as a wave of pain swept through me. "Liam slept with Madison in our home."

          "And so?" he scoffed, a look of impatience crossing his face. "Every man wets his di.ck once in a while. Liam is the closest I have to a son who would take over my business, and you will not! I repeat not ruin this with your tantrums!" 

         My heart twisted in pain as I realized that I wasn't going to get comfort or support from here.

          "Fix your mess," he scoffed. "I don't want to hear a damn word about it again, or I swear to God I will disown you." his voice was cold and final as he turned and walked out. 

          "Poor Zoey, you always manage to mess things up when they matter most. It's like clockwork. You've never been able to keep anything. Not a toy, not a friend, and definitely not a man."

         I looked up to see Talia, my little sister, resting against the railing with her arms crossed. A smirk tugged at her lips like she was watching the best episode of her favorite soap opera.

         "Looks like Daddy's golden girl isn't so golden after all," she drawled in barely concealed disdain.

         I ground my teeth. She was staring at me with a sympathetic smile on her face that looked too much like a sneer. Her auburn hair was curled into waves and flowing down her back. 

          "You know, if I were engaged to Liam, I wouldn't let a little hiccup ruin the whole wedding," she continued whilst inspecting her outrageously long manicure.

         "Of course you wouldn't. You've always had a thing for bottom barrel men." I scoffed, referring to her most recent affair with a married man.

         Talia had always hated me ever since we were kids. I know for some people having a sister means you get to have your own best friend, but mine has been the opposite. 

         She wanted what I had, fought me constantly for my parents' approval, even though they've always been partial towards her. 

         Just then, my mother appeared in the hallway, folding her arms like a judge at a sentencing. "You should've picked your battles more wisely, Zoella. Liam's a good man. And he's done everything your father asked of him." 

         "Except be faithful, Mum."

          "That doesn't mean a thing. Your father has had mistresses, but we still have a happy home. What do you know about sacrifices?" 

         She moved further into the room."Of course, this would happen right before the bridal shower. You've always made everything about you." 

         I knew my mum was referring to the time when I ran away as a kid and went missing for weeks. My parents have never let me live that down.

         I wanted to scream at her, to ask her to just hear me for once in her life and not just listen.

         But what was the point? This house never ran on fairness or facts. All she and my father cared about were appearances and ego boosts. 

         I'd lost long before the game even began.

         I stormed up the stairs, shoving Talia slightly as her evil laughter echoed after me as I stormed into my old bedroom, which was still decorated in old lilac wallpaper, stickers, and childhood books stacked on the shelves, and slammed the door shut behind me. 

        The tears that had been burning behind my eyes finally broke loose.

        They slipped down my cheeks in hot, silent streaks, one after the other, until I was no longer blinking them back but drowning in them.

        A sob tore from my throat, a jagged, broken sound that echoed in the empty room like something inside me had snapped.

        I folded forward, my elbows digging into my thighs, and let my head hang between my trembling hands.

        My chest heaved, uneven and sharp. Like my lungs were protesting every breath. My palms were slick with sweat. My whole body shook with the sheer weight of everything I'd held in for the last twenty-four hours.

        They didn't care.

        Not my mother with her carefully pressed lips and backhanded concern. Not my father, whose love came with contracts and conditions. And not Talia, who stood on the sidelines waiting to feast on the remains of whatever I ruined.

        They didn't care about me.

        Not my heart.

         Not my humiliation.

         Not the ache that lived in my throat.

        They cared about optics.

        About business partnerships and image management, and whether the wedding would still happen. As if my pain was just a minor PR hiccup.

        I curled in on myself.

        God, I had bent over backward for that man.

         But now I was the problem.

        I clenched my jaw so tight my teeth ached. My fingers dug into my thighs, the pain grounding me, anchoring me.

        I sobbed again. This time quieter.

        Everything I had poured into him, all the grace, the patience, the love, had been thrown away like it meant nothing. 

        And my family... they just wanted to smooth it over, sweep me back into place like a shattered doll glued at the seams.

        They could all go to hell.

         A soft buzz from my phone pulled me out of the spiral. It was a message from Lani. I had promised to call the moment I got home, but the last seventeen hours have been a mess.

         Lani: Girl, are you okay? Just checking in. Do you need backup or bail money? Just say the word, and I'll show up at Liam's house with soldier ants.

         A tear rolled down my cheek, but I smiled. The first real one in twenty-four hours.

         Me: I'm still breathing but barely. I'm at my parents' house now. Trust me, you don't wanna know.

         Her reply came instantly.

         Lani: Try me. I'll be at your place tonight with ice cream and pepper spray.

         I laughed despite the pain clawing at my chest. I didn't deserve her kindness. 

         I dropped my phone on the dresser as I flopped onto the bed, letting out a deep sigh. I needed to do something for myself and fast. 

         I needed to get a job and stack up enough money to sustain myself when everything eventually goes to sh.it.

          I had the skills, but I had been sitting on my potential for so damn long, all because of Liam, but not anymore. 

         It was time to become the best version of myself, time to become a girl boss.

         I wiped my face and inhaled deeply. I couldn't fall apart now. Not when the universe was giving me the chance to rise from this wreckage.

         Another buzz followed, this time from my work line. I turned over and picked up the phone.

         Unknown number: CONGRATULATIONS. Your Interview for the job offer from HART & ROWE ENTERPRISE has been rescheduled for Tomorrow at 10 AM sharp.

         My heart gave a little lurch of joy.

          It seems like the Universe was listening after all.