“Go get plastic surgery. I’ll pay for it, and afterward, I’ll marry you.”
Jason’s voice dripped with arrogance, as if he were granting me the world on a silver platter.
“Paula looks exactly like you. It’s a scar in her heart and this is how you’ll make it up to her. It’s the price you pay to marry me.”
I stared at him in disbelief before ripping off the ring on my finger—the one engraved with Paula’s initials—and hurling it straight into his face.
“Not a chance.”
I turned on my heel and walked toward the room, but his mocking voice followed me like a shadow.
“Hailey, stop pretending. Don’t you want to get married? Don’t be ridiculous.”
His tone was smug and confident. “Until you get that face fixed, don’t even think about walking down the aisle with me.”
He truly believed marriage was a leash that could control me. Little did he know—I’ve never been the kind of woman to beg for scraps.
***
The next morning, hunger woke me up. I hadn’t eaten anything since getting off the plane, so I decided to make myself breakfast. As I quietly ate, Jason stumbled into the kitchen, still groggy and tousled from sleep.