Chapter 1

Damien Sinclair loved tossing the word breakup around like it cost him nothing.

The day I stopped was the day he started begging instead.

Every time we fought, he'd throw it out.

And every time, I came crawling back.

Until the day I found a round-trip ticket to Charleston on his phone.

The city where his ex-wife lived.

I went into his study to ask for an explanation.

He didn't even look up from the contract he was signing.

"Sophia's been feeling down lately," he said, like it was obvious.

"I have a business trip that way. I'll stop by and check on her."

Flat. Bored.

"Olivia. If you can't give me that much trust, then let's break up."

I stared down at the screen in my hand.

Then back up at him.

Two seconds.

"Okay. Let's break up."

......

Damien's pen stilled.

He hadn't expected me to agree.

He glanced up. Dropped his eyes again. Scrawled his signature with cool, practiced ease.

"Suit yourself."

I set the phone on his desk and walked out.

At the doorway, I closed my eyes for a moment.

My chest hurt.

But I didn't look back.

That night, Damien didn't come to the bedroom.

I knew what he was doing.

He was waiting.

Waiting for me to knock on his study door, red-eyed and trembling.

Waiting for me to say the words I'd said a thousand times before.

I'm sorry.

But this time, I didn't feel like apologizing.

The next morning, I dragged my suitcase down the stairs.

He was on the phone.

When he saw me, he muttered a quick, "OK, see you the day after tomorrow."

Hung up.

I knew exactly who was on the other end.

His eyes dropped to my suitcase.

Then climbed back to my face.

"Where are you going?"

"Moving out."

"Moving out?" His mouth curled. "And when are you coming back?"

I heard the sneer in it.

"I'm not coming back."

His brow furrowed. He rubbed his temple, annoyed.

"Olivia, don't be dramatic. I'm stopping by on my way. That's all. Is this really worth all the drama?"

I looked at him for a long moment.

"Yes. It is."

Because it wasn't just one ticket.

It was a ticket every month. For two years.

Flight after flight.

All to the same place.

Charleston.

Sophia Reed.

I wasn't making a scene.

I was just done.

"Since when did you become so petty?"

Petty?

Maybe.

"Yes, Damien. I'm petty." I held his gaze.

"That's why I'm agreeing to break up."

He hadn't taken me seriously last night.

He'd assumed I couldn't bear to let him go.

For three years, I was the one who chased.

The one who apologized.

The one who swallowed her pride.

He was used to it.

Even my friends thought I was wasting myself on him.

Damien's expression hardened.

He let out a cold laugh.

"Fine. If that's what you want, we're done."

So I left.

He didn't call.

He never did. He never chased anyone.

When he came back from Charleston, I went to see him one last time.

Damien didn't look surprised.

He was sure I'd come back.

Sure I'd bend again.

Three years, and that was the pattern.

He waited for me to soften.

But this time, I just took off the ring and held it out.

"Here. I'm giving this back."