Chapter 69. I Like a Little Fight

CHARLOTTE

After walking what felt like forever—barely a mile from the party—I was out of breath, and my legs burned as if I’d crossed the whole city. I finally stopped by the roadside.

The late evening air clung to my damp skin, my chest heaving, my throat raw from swallowing back sobs.

Tears kept spilling, hot and unrelenting, no matter how hard I tried to choke them down.

I didn’t care that strangers passed, staring with half-curious, half-judging eyes because of my swimsuit. Thankfully, it came with a wrap, which I had around my waist.

At least it gave me a little coverage, better than having my bare cheeks out.

Anyway, I was too broken, too humiliated, to care about what strangers thought of me at that point.

I was angry—at myself, and at the whole drama that had just unfolded.

All of this could have been avoided if I had simply sat back and never bothered to go to that pool party.

But no, I went.

Because I thought a go