When I didn't respond, the smile on Vanessa's face began to c***k.
She strode toward me, her heels clicking against the floor, and snatched the résumé from my hand. She tore it in half and threw the pieces into the air.
"Are you deaf?" she snapped. "I'm talking to you."
Torn pieces of paper fluttered to the floor.
The entire hall fell silent.
I looked down at the shredded résumé, then coldly at Evan—the man I'd been with for two years. He stood behind Vanessa, watching the whole scene with detached indifference.
Vanessa folded her arms and raised her chin.
"Why are you looking at him?" she asked. "You lied to Evan for two years. I tore up a few pieces of paper. So what? I'm not even holding you accountable for that. And you—stop being a doormat."
'A doormat?'
I could feel everyone's eyes on me—sharp, mocking, cutting through like knives.
But I was no one's doormat.
Evan had pursued me for half a year before I finally agreed to date him.
Before I came to Fairbridge University, my mother had reminded me again and again not to tell anyone what our family actually did. She told me to simply say we sold seafood.
She said that if people found out too soon how much money my family had, I would never know who my real friends were.
I was my parents' only child. Every business deal, every partnership—my mother had arranged it all just to pave the way for me.
I had always remembered what my mother told me.
I'd always said my family ran a small business, mostly because I didn't want Evan to feel pressured.
Over the past two years, Evan and I had never had some fiery, dramatic love story. But we had gone to class together, studied in the library together, and stayed up late grinding through exams together.
It had been steady and quiet, and to me, it had felt real.
If it weren't for internship season, I might never have seen his true colors.
And I wasn't going to stay quiet anymore.
"When did I ever lie to him? My family runs a business—that's a fact. And when was I ever a doormat?"
I looked at her with a calm smile.
"You chased him for two years and still couldn't get him. Now you've picked up the man I threw away, and you're standing here bragging to me about it?"
I had clearly struck a nerve.
Vanessa's face flushed deep red. She clenched her jaw and shoved me hard.
"Say that again."
I stumbled back two steps, then steadied myself, smoothed my clothes, and let out a short laugh." I said, you picked up the man I threw away," I said. "And you're proud of it?"
Vanessa snapped.
She raised her hand to hit me, but I caught her wrist in midair.
Only then did Evan finally move.
His face dark, he stepped forward, pulled Vanessa behind him, and glared at me. "Nora, that's enough! If you hurt Vanessa, you're dead!"
I laughed—really laughed.
I looked at this man I'd been with for two years and, for the first time, saw a stranger."
I only have one question," I said. "Did you ever actually like me? Breaking up with me out of nowhere and jumping into another relationship—how is that fair?"
I could have let Vanessa off the hook—because the real fault was Evan's.
"Fair?"
Vanessa leaned out from behind Evan and sneered.
"Oh. You mean the breakup money wasn't enough?" she said. "Fine. Wait right there."
Vanessa pulled out her phone and tapped the screen a few times. A few seconds later, my phone chimed with a notification.
"Beep. 200 dollars received."
She knew I never kept my phone on silent.
For several seconds, no one said a word. Then laughter burst through the hall and crashed over me like a wave.
Evan looked at me. His voice was quiet, but every word landed like a knife.
"There," he said. "Two years. That's what you were worth. Fair enough now?"
"Don't ask Evan if he loves you. A fishmonger's just a fling," Vanessa said softly, her voice sugar-coated and poisonous. "People like us have marriages arranged. Don't play Cinderella with me."
I knew exactly how the rich played their games.
I'd actually had an arranged prospect once—but I turned it down for Evan. Not that my family needed the arrangement anyway.
I thought what we had was real. Turns out, it was just a joke.
"Fine," I said. "I wish you both well."
'Once you see someone for who they really are, you walk away. Not another second is worth wasting.'
I turned to leave.
Aksara