When my father cheated and my mother fell into a depression that eventually took her life, I became everyone’s favorite punching bag. The bullying was relentless. And then, like some kind of savior, Margot had appeared.
She had shown up at my house in the pouring rain, burning up with a 104-degree fever, just to tell everyone harassing me that I wasn’t alone. That I had someone.
She had taken me abroad for therapy, putting her fledgling acting career on hold to help me heal. Back then, I thought she was my salvation. I thought she truly cared.
But the woman standing in front of me now? She was nothing like the girl who once held my hand and swore to stay by my side.
I sighed, the fight draining out of me. “Margot, let’s just end this. Let’s break up. You never wanted to go public with our relationship, anyway.”
Her frown deepened, and her voice sharpened. “Frank, stop being ridiculous. You used to grovel and beg on your knees for me. Where’s all this sudden bravado coming from?”
Right then, a resounding noise came from the table as I slammed my fist, the sound echoing through the room. My patience snapped.
“Have you said enough?” I growled.