My heart stops for a moment when I see him there, lips pressed against Rosa’s.

I can’t look at this, I think to myself, turning away in disgust.

My heart is breaking, and my world is crumbling down around me. I struggle to drag air into my lungs. It’s as if the air has thinned.

I need to get out of there, as far away as I can, as fast as I can.

I’m vaguely aware of Peter’s voice nearby, crowing victoriously.

“I told you!” he’s saying. “You never listen to me, but I was right! I was right all along, and now you see! He’s a cheating, scumbag asshole!”

I hurry away from the hotel entrance, blinking through my tears, struggling to find a way out of here. Peter follows me, still talking a mile a minute. I think I might puke.

A cab pulls up, and someone gets out. Before they have a chance to close the door behind them, I clamber in and yank it closed behind me, locking it.

Peter rushes to the window, pressing his palms against it, calling my name.

“Where to?” the cab driver asks.

“I don’t care,” I sob. “Just away from here. Drive that way, and I’ll tell you in a minute. Please, just go, now!”

He nods and pulls away.

Peter’s still trying to follow, screaming my name, knocking on the window, but he soon fades into the background as the taxi picks up speed.

“Is everything okay?” the driver asks, concern in his voice. “Was that guy trying to hurt you?”

Not trying. He has hurt me, so many times.

“I’m fine,” I say. “Can you just drive in circles, but stay away from that hotel? I need to make a call, and then I’ll tell you where to go.”

Thankfully, the driver shuts up and does as I’ve asked him.

I sit for a few minutes in total shock. My brain is still struggling to process what I saw.

I’m a coward. I should have stayed there, should have confronted that cheating asshole. How could I have trusted him? How could I have been so stupid?

I should be slapping Brock in the face right about now, but I just can’t stop crying for long enough to pull it together.

He’s been talking about rings, about marriage, about us, together, forever. And all the while, he was still in love with her. With Rosa.

Even thinking her name to myself makes my lip curl in contempt.

I should have listened to Dean.

I feel so stupid for just dismissing all of his concerns and warnings out of hand. All that time he spent telling me about what Brock is like—why didn’t I even entertain the possibility that it might’ve been true?

Dean has been Brock’s friend since they were kids—he knows Brock better than anyone. But no, I couldn’t see past my own infatuation, and now I’m paying the price for that arrogance.

I just don’t learn.

All those years I spent with Peter, rationalizing his behavior, until I finally saw the light . . . but I’ve obviously learned nothing from it. I latched onto the first guy who came along, who sweet-talked me, who showed an interest, and I’ve gotten my heart broken all over again.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

I fumble with my phone, and call the only person I can, the only person I have. Dean.

He picks up quickly. “Hey, Nina. How’s it going?”

I tell myself to hold it together and stick to the facts. Don’t get him all worried.

But as soon as I hear his voice, I break down all over again.

“You were right,” I sob. “You were right about everything. I should never have brushed you off, Dean. I’m so sorry.”

“Whoa, slow down,” he says. “What’s going on? What happened?”

“It was Br—” I start, but I just can’t bring myself to tell him the story. Every time I even think Brock’s name, that image of him kissing Rosa comes back into my mind, overwhelming me with grief.

Dean takes a deep breath, then falls silent for a few moments. In the background, I hear indistinct voices, electronic beeps, and paper rustling. He’s probably at work.

“Where are you right now?” he asks, his voice taut with anger. I hear footsteps, then silence. Dean must’ve stepped into somewhere private, probably his own office.

“In a cab,” I answer between silent sobs.

I hear him typing away on a keyboard in the background, keys clicking away.

“Ask the driver to take you to the airport,” Dean says firmly. “I’ve booked you a flight to Seattle, leaving in a couple hours. You can come stay here with me for a while. I’d come there, but I can’t get the time off work.”

“No, Dean, you don’t need to do that,” I say, wiping away tears. “I’ll be fine, I just need a bit of time to -”

“No,” he cuts me off. “I already booked the ticket. Check your email inbox.”

I take a deep breath. “Okay, okay. I’ll come.”

He’s probably right. It’ll do me good to get away from here and spend some time with him. It’ll help me get my head together to process this entire shitshow.

All I know is, I can’t face Brock yet, and I don’t have the energy to deal with Peter’s harassment right now.

Peter wouldn’t just lay off once I did as he asked. Him showing me . . . that . . . is just going to make things worse. He’ll feel vindicated, knowing that he was right all along.

Brock might be a cheating asshole, but that doesn’t change the fact that Peter is an emotional leech I want gone from my life, for good.

A few days away to clear my head and recharge my batteries would be perfect. After that, I can come back and get everything resolved.

“Take me to the airport, please,” I tell the driver. I can’t stand to be here anymore. Every street, every building in this downtown area reminds me of Brock, making me feel suffocated. “As fast as you can.”

“You got it.” He steps on the gas.