Chapter 3

"Miles, where do you think you're going?"

Camille's fingers dug into my arm hard enough to make the veins stand out on the back of her hand. I stood still for two seconds, then looked up at her calmly.

"Let's break up. The wedding never happened anyway, so this should be simple."

The color drained from Camille's face. She stood frozen on the spot, like she genuinely couldn't process what I had just said.

"Are you out of your mind? What about the baby?"

Her temper flared and she reached for me again, but the next second Bryce collapsed behind her, hitting the ground in a heap. The instant she turned to look, I shut the car door and pulled away.

In the rearview mirror, she stood rigid and motionless on the curb.

When I got back to my apartment, I listed the wedding suit on a resale app. Then I sent out messages to friends and family letting them know the wedding was off. Once everything was taken care of, I finally let out a long breath and sank into a deep, dreamless sleep.

When the weekend was over, I went back to work at the school. But the moment I stepped onto campus, the stares started.

"I can't believe Mr. Hartwell is that kind of person. You really can't tell just by looking at someone."

"His family's broke and his mom's been bedridden for years. How do you think he afforded designer clothes back in college? Someone was paying for more than his tuition, if you know what I mean."

"He never seemed like a decent guy to me. Why else would his own fiancee keep standing him up at the altar?"

"I bet he even slept his way into his position."

My head was ringing. A wave of raw fury shot straight to the top of my skull, and I was about to call the police to report the slander when Bryce came rushing out of nowhere. He threw himself in front of me, his face twisted into a perfect portrait of grief and righteous anger.

"Mr. Hartwell, please, I'm begging you. Just give me back my watch. My mom gave it to me for my 18th birthday, and she passed away years ago. It's the only thing I have left of her."

Students and colleagues had started gathering around us, their faces dripping with contempt and disgust.

"Mr. Hartwell, why would you take something from this kid? Just give it back."

"Have some decency. We all have mothers. Yours is sick too, isn't she? To think you'd know better."

As the words landed, something sly and vicious flickered in the depths of Bryce's eyes.

He pulled out his phone and started to dial. "I'll just call your mom myself. I'm sure she'll understand."

I lunged forward and snatched the phone out of his hand, my eyes wide with panic. "My mother is still in the hospital. Are you trying to kill her?"

Bryce toppled to the ground and sobbed louder, more desperately, as though I had shoved him. The crowd around us kept growing. My temples throbbed, and it finally hit me that this was a setup. The whole thing had been planned from the start.

I tried to turn and walk away, but Bryce latched onto my leg.

A sharp shout split the air. Camille stormed forward, the flowers she'd been carrying scattering across the ground, and pulled Bryce close.

She stared at me with open disappointment, her lips trembling with barely contained fury. "I came here to apologize to you, and this is what I walk into? You tormenting him?"

Bryce's face flushed red. He turned to me, his voice small and pleading. "Miles, I'm begging you. Please just give it back. It was my mother's. It's all I have."

Accusations rained down from every direction. I bit down on my numb tongue, turned around, and tried to walk away.

"This is ridiculous."

But a sharp pain ripped through my arm before I could take a step. Camille had yanked me back hard enough to tear at my surgical wound. She stood over me and yelled at me like I was nothing.

"You don't want to lose your job, do you, Miles? I'll say this one last time. Apologize!"

My knees scraped against the ground, raw and burning. When I looked up with stinging eyes, Camille had already turned her face away, cold and indifferent.

The voices swelled around me again, filthy and cruel and humiliating.

"Oh my God, did he really sleep his way to the top?"

"He's been trouble since he was a kid. There were always rumors, and I guess they were true."

I doubled over suddenly, my insides twisting into knots so tight that I nearly vomited.

Camille knew. She knew that when I was younger, the bullying had gotten so bad that the depression nearly killed me.

She was the one who took me to the hospital, soaked in my blood. She was the one who put her entire life on hold and stayed by my side for three months, pulling me back from the edge.

And now she was doing this, leading a mob against me, forcing me to accept a lie, all to make another man feel better.

I would have died before I admitted to something I didn't do. I bit down on her hand hard enough to make her scream.

Bryce shouted at me through his tears. "What is wrong with you? You almost bit a chunk out of her! We're calling the police!"

I tilted my head and spat the blood from my mouth without a word. Then I dragged myself to my feet and walked away.

When I got home, I called in for a week of leave. Then I passed out.