I fell to the floor, pain shooting through my arm. But that sting was nothing compared to the cold emptiness in my chest.
He didn’t stop. Didn’t ask. Didn’t even look back.
Perched on the edge of my bed, I gently pressed a cotton swab to the scraped skin on my elbow. The door flew open without warning, crashing into the wall so hard it made me jump.
Marcus stormed into the room like a thunderstorm in motion, rage practically radiating from him.
“Say sorry to Maggie.”
His tone was cold and commanding, slicing through the silence like a whip.
My fingers went slack, the cotton ball falling to the floor. “What did you just say?”
He took another step toward me, his eyes cold and unrelenting.
“You heard me. Apologize. She injured her ankle—she’s limping now. You know she models for a living. You could’ve cost her everything!”
My temper flared as I rose to my feet. “I’m not going to apologize because I didn’t push her. She lost her balance. That’s on her, not me.”
His jaw was set tight, hands balled into fists at his sides.
“You’re being irrational.”
That word was the last straw. The dam inside me burst.