CHAPTER 3

***ZARA***

The door swung open with a soft creak.

Jack sat propped up against the headboard, bare-chested, a lazy smirk on his face as he ran a hand through his dark hair. Sitting across his lap and wrapped tightly in his Egyptian cotton top sheet was Chloe—my general manager at Rust & Bone. Her expensive blonde hair cascaded over her bare shoulders, her manicured fingers resting lazily against Jack’s collarbone.

She pressed soft kisses against Jack’s mouth, cheeks, and face while Jack kept his hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer.

They both froze, turning to look at the doorway.

Chloe didn't flinch when she saw me. She didn't gasp, cover herself, or look even remotely ashamed. Instead, a slow, cruel smile spread across her red lips, her blue eyes gleaming with satisfaction. Like she’d been waiting for me to see this—her and Jack together.

Jack’s jaw dropped. The lazy smirk vanished, replaced by a flash of shock that quickly hardened into an icy, annoyed glare.

“Zara?” Jack snapped, sitting up straighter and pulling the sheet over his lap. “What the hell are you doing here? How did you get in?”

My voice was trapped in my throat. I stared at him, then at Chloe, my mind refusing to accept what I was seeing. Two years. Two years of dates, promises, and quiet nights where he told me he loved me.

“You…” My voice cracked, barely above a whisper. “You turned your phone off…”

“I turned my phone off because I'm a grown man who wanted a quiet night,” Jack said coldly, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and pulling on a pair of gray sweatpants. He didn't come to comfort me. Instead, he stood up and crossed his broad arms over his chest, looking at me like I was some stray dog that had tracked mud across his pristine hardwood floors. “You can't just barge into my apartment at midnight, Zara.”

“Your apartment?” I choked out, a bitter, hysterical laugh escaping me. Tears finally spilled over my lashes, burning hot tracks down my cheeks. “We bought this apartment together, Jack… I came here to ask you for help! My mother is dying! The hospital is pulling her life support at eight o'clock tomorrow morning if I don't give them ten thousand dollars!”

Chloe let out a soft, annoyed sigh, leaning back against the pillows with an exaggerated roll of her eyes.

“Oh, please, Zara,” Chloe purred, her voice dripping with sweet poison. “Always the sob story. Always the victim. Are you seriously trying to guilt-trip Jack into handing over his hard-earned savings for your family's endless garbage?”

“Shut up, Chloe!” I yelled, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. “I'm not talking to you!”

“Actually, you are,” Chloe sneered, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder. “Because unlike you, I don't drag Jack down into the gutter with me. I don't spend every date crying about unpaid bills, broken-down cars, and a criminal little brother who can't keep his hands clean. Jack is a rising executive, Zara. He needs a real woman by his side. Not a broke, desperate dive-bar waitress who smells like stale beer and desperation every time she walks through the door.”

Every word felt like a physical strike to my chest, knocking the air right out of my lungs. I looked back at Jack, praying—begging—that he would defend me. That he would tell her to shut up. That he would say something, anything, to show that the last two years meant something to him.

But Jack just stood there, his face a cold, unreadable mask.

“She’s right, Zara,” Jack said softly, his tone completely devoid of warmth.

The room went dead silent.

“What?” I whispered, staring at him in disbelief. “You're defending her?”

“I'm tired, Zara,” Jack said, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration. “I love you, or… at least I thought I did. But being with you is like drowning. Every single week it's a new crisis. Your mom's ICU bills, Jake's bail bonds, your broken furnace... I can't do it anymore. I work hard for my money, and I'm not going to throw ten grand into a black hole for a woman who has nothing to offer me but baggage.”

Baggage? So now I'm just baggage to him? After everything we shared, all the plans, memories, and promises we made to love each other until marriage. He was throwing all of that away now?

He stepped closer, looking down at me with pure pity, a look that hurt far worse than his anger.

“You're drowning, Zara,” he repeated flatly. “And I'm not going to let you pull me under with you.”

I stared at him, the tears on my face drying into tight, burning tracks. The sadness inside me didn't disappear, but something else ignited beneath it—a dark, scorching wave of pure humiliation and fury.

I reached into my bag, pulled out his shiny brass door key, and threw it straight at his chest. It hit his torso with a sharp thwack before dropping to the floor between his bare feet.

“Don't worry, Jack,” I said, my voice shaking with a cold, sharp intensity I didn't know I possessed. “I won't pull you under with me. You can continue enjoying your lovely moment with Chloe.”

I turned on my heel and walked out of the bedroom.

“Zara, wait…” Jack called out half-heartedly from behind me, but Chloe's soft laugh quickly cut him off.

I slammed the front door behind me so hard the frame rattled, sprinting down the carpeted hallway and bursting through the stairwell doors into the freezing Chicago air. I threw myself into the driver's seat of Maya's car, gripped the steering wheel, and let out a choked, ragged sob that tore through my raw throat.

I wanted to curl up in the driver's seat and disappear.

But Mom didn't have much time left for me to fall apart.

I need to find another way to make ten thousand dollars. Before eight.

Jack was gone, and my brother was nowhere to be found. 

God, how did my life turn into this nightmare?

Before I could even catch my breath, the phone in my lap buzzed violently.

I wiped my face with the sleeve of my jacket and glanced at the screen. It was Mr. Roswell, the senior manager of Rust & Bone.

I pressed the phone to my ear. “H-hello?”

“Zara! Where the hell are you?!” Mr. Roswell roared into the speaker, the heavy bass of the bar booming in the background. “Maya told me you went to dump the trash, but the back alley has been empty for forty minutes! Chloe isn't here, the floor is packed, and I've got five tables demanding service! If your ass isn't back behind this bar in ten minutes, don't bother coming back at all! You're fired!”

The line clicked off.

Of course this too? I couldn’t even have a few minutes of freedom to cry in peace.

I stared into the dark windshield, my reflection looking hollow and pale beneath the harsh yellow streetlamps. I had nowhere else to go. No other way to make a single cent before morning.

I shifted Maya's car into drive, slammed my foot on the gas, and tore back toward the South Side.

Ten minutes later, I pushed through the heavy wooden doors of Rust & Bone.

The bar was roaring with noise—shouting patrons, clinking glasses, and heavy rock music blasting from the jukebox. Maya was running ragged behind the counter, trying to pour draft beers while taking cash from three different patrons at once.

The moment Maya caught sight of me, her eyes widened. She dumped a pitcher under the tap and rushed over to the far end of the counter where I was tying my apron around my waist with cold, numb fingers.

“Zee!” Maya whispered urgently, leaning over the bar. “What happened? Why do you look like this? Did Jack—”

“Jack was in bed with Chloe,” I said flatly, my voice dead and emotionless as I grabbed a damp rag and began scrubbing the wooden counter.

Maya gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “What?! Chloe from work?!”

“Yeah,” I mumbled, keeping my eyes glued to the counter so she wouldn't see the fresh tears brimming in my eyes. “He said I'm a drowning ship, Maya. He said my family is baggage.”

“That bastard, I'm going to kill…” Maya started, her eyes flashing with pure fury, but I cut her off.

“It doesn't matter,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “None of it matters. My mom has less than seven hours, Maya.”

I swallowed hard and looked toward the crowded bar.

“I don't know what I'm going to do yet. But I can't just stand here. I need to find another way to get that money.”

Before Maya could pull me into a hug, a strange, sudden shift rolled through the bar.

The front double doors of Rust & Bone slammed open with a bang.