Chapter 7
Zach’s smile froze, his expression stiffening with disbelief. “What did you say?”
“You wanted a breakup, right? I agree. “My tone was calm, steady.
I thought my answer would please him, that finally giving in would be what he wanted.
But strangely, there was no satisfaction in his voice, only shock and anger.
“Serena, are you out of your mind? You’re really breaking up with me over something this trivial?“His eyes widened, fixed on me as though I’d grown another head.
I couldn’t understand. Wasn’t this what he’d been pushing me toward? Why was he acting like I was the unreasonable one for agreeing?
Beside him, Hannah shifted nervously, tugging at his sleeve. “Mr. Mitchell, this was Serena’s idea. Maybe you should just…”
“Shut up!” Zach snapped before she could finish. “This is between me and her. It has nothing to do with you.”
It was the first time I’d ever heard him raise his voice at Hannah. She froze, eyes wide, lips parted but silent.
Zach caught himself almost immediately. He dropped his voice, softening his tone as if to cover his outburst.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. Just… wait outside. I don’t want you dragged into this.”
Hannah’s eyes brimmed with reluctant tears, but she wasn’t stupid. She knew better than to push him right now. So she bit her lip, nodded, and slipped out.
The moment the door shut, Zach exhaled sharply, as if bracing himself. He opened his mouth–then stopped, his gaze falling to the
floor.
“Your foot… it’s bleeding? Why didn’t you say something? I’ll get a bandage.”
He turned toward the bookshelf, rifling through drawers.
I almost laughed. This was his trick. Every time the conversation got uncomfortable, he’d cut it off by fussing over me, offering a touch of tenderness to make me forget.
And I used to fall for it. I used to cling to that illusion of care, let the issue slip away until it rotted inside me, only to resurface later- uglier, sharper, harder to bury.
“Where’s the first–aid kit? I know it was here…” he muttered, digging around.
Of course he couldn’t find it. He hadn’t been in my room for years. Not since the time I burned with a 104–degree fever while he was out on a date with Hannah. After that, I moved the medicine cabinet
myself for convenience.
Finally, he looked up, noticing what he should have seen earlier. “Why is your room so empty? Where are all your things?”
I didn’t bother hiding it. “I sold the house. I’ve already found a buyer. We close in two days. You should move your things out tomorrow.”
Zach froze, his face tightening, anger flaring in his eyes–then just as quickly, he smirked, like I’d told a bad joke.
“Come on, don’t be ridiculous. This house is mine too. You can’t just sell it without my signature. Don’t throw a tantrum, Serena. I’ll send Hannah home right now, okay? Stop making a scene.
He didn’t believe me.So I picked up the contract from the desk and handed it to him. “The last page includes your signed authorization. The realtor said it’s legally binding.”
Oh, and by the way,” I added lightly, “that was the paper you signed the night Hannah got caught drunk driving. You probably don’t remember. Doesn’t matter. It still holds up in court.”
Zach took the document, flipping straight to the back. The moment his eyes landed on his own signature, his body went rigid.
