Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Goodbye He Never Saw Coming : Kabanata 81 - Kabanata 90

WINTER Without wasting time, I throw myself into Nath's arms and hug him, kissing him all over his face. His cheek, his nose, his forehead, his other cheek. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," I keep saying between kisses. I'm not afraid now. Even if anyone else adds their scores to someone, they still won't be able to beat me. I'll still be in first position because Nath had the highest score. Nath gave me his points again, even though he was in second position. He could have kept them and secured something for himself, but he gave them to me instead. Why is he so good? Why is he so generous? What did I do to deserve him? People begin to congratulate me. There are hugs, words of encouragement. Even Vivian hugs me tightly. "I'm so happy for you!" she says. "You and Nath are perfect together. I wish you both the very best." "Thank you," I tell her, squeezing her back. "Thank you so much." Eventually, we head back to our room. Once we're inside, I keep staring at Nat

WINTER My brain is having a complete meltdown. Like, full system shutdown. Error 404: Logic Not Found. So many thoughts are sprinting through my head right now that I'm pretty sure my skull is about to crack open from the pressure. I don't know what to say. I don't know what to think. The accusation against Nath is so strong and so shameful to listen to that I feel like someone just dumped a bucket of sewage mixed with shame and public humiliation directly onto my soul. But how could this be? How could Nath be the culprit? I've spent almost every waking moment with this man since I met him. Not once have I sensed this kind of behavior from him. Not even a whisper. Not even a hint of creepy energy that would make my spine tingle or my gut scream warning sirens. Instead, Nath is one of the few men I've personally encountered who has restraint like a Buddhist monk on a forty day meditation retreat. So how is this happening? I look at Nath. He's quiet. The initial surp

NATH I continue to watch Mike's face cycle through panic and calculation. Time to end this. "I have eyes everywhere, Mr. Jordan." My voice remains calm and measured. "This is not the first time you've attacked me. So the moment you started meeting with Vivian, who is supposed to be a friend of my fiancée, I knew something was up. I had my eyes on you." Mike's jaw clenches. His fists ball at his sides. "So even when you plotted with the waiter to spike my drink, I also knew about it." I pause. "You thought I was falling into your plan, but you were the one falling into my plan." Another pause. "What do you have to say about this now?" Mike is quiet for a long moment. His mind racing. I can see it in his eyes. The desperation. The scrambling for any way out. Then he speaks. "Yes, so what?" His voice rises. "So what if you're accused of assault? I already said I didn't do it. Yes, Vivian came into my room for a while. But that doesn't mean anything. That doesn't mean that I wor

WINTER As we head toward our room, my brain is still trying to process the fact that my fiancé is secretly a billionaire chairman who just destroyed my ex-boyfriend's elaborate scheme with the casual efficiency of someone swatting a fly. I turn to him. "Okay, I need to know. How did you discover Vivian's plan? Like, did you have a crystal ball? Psychic powers? A time machine?" Nath laughs, and there's this knowing look in his eyes. "Ace isn't just my friend. He works for me." I stop walking. "I KNEW IT. I knew his loyalty was too intense to be just friendship. Nobody is that dedicated to a regular friend. The way he physically blocked me from leaving during the ceremony? That was definitely employee-level commitment." "He's very good at his job," Nath says as we start walking again. "I also had other people watching Mike, Olivia, and Vivian from the beginning. The moment Vivian gave up her competition spot for you, I knew something was off. Nobody is that nice without a re

WINTER Mike leads the way, opens the door, and I follow him inside. Walking back into Mike's house feels like voluntarily entering a crime scene. Except the crime is the years of my life I'll never get back, and the evidence is everywhere I look. "I'll quickly go to the kitchen and get something ready for you," Mike says, his voice all gentle and caring like he's suddenly transformed into Boyfriend of the Year. Right. Because nothing says "I've changed" like offering to cook after spending years claiming domestic work was beneath him. I nod, not trusting my voice to stay neutral. The moment he disappears into the kitchen, I move. Fast. I hurry toward what used to be my room and start grabbing everything that belongs to me that I left behind when I went to the resort. Clothes. Books. My small collection of design magazines. The framed photo of me, my mom and Treasure. Everything I paid for with my own money while Mike was out buying gifts for his mistress. I'm not lea