Chapter 2

With my UCL acceptance letter secured, I'd probably be away from California for years.

So I'd been spending this time at home with my parents.

The house had grown quieter since my brother died. They knew Quinn and I were over—ever since I'd announced London, his name hadn't been spoken within these walls.

Mom wrapped her arm around me as I leaned against her shoulder.

"Marlee," she said softly, "your father and I have decided to move to London with you."

I looked up, stunned.

She smoothed my hair. "Actually, we've been considering this since your brother passed. We just couldn't bring ourselves to make the decision..."

She paused, her eyes turning resolute. "But now, with you going abroad for school, we've decided to emigrate as a family. A complete fresh start."

I jumped up, letting out an excited scream.

Once the departure was confirmed, I threw myself into organizing goodbye gatherings with friends.

After all, with this move, who knew when we'd see each other again?

My best friend Chloe dragged me to an underground warehouse party.

She rolled her eyes at me, saying I'd been trapped in Quinn's orbit my whole life, never experiencing the real world—that's why I'd wasted so much time on that self-righteous asshole.

I had to admit, as a seasoned party veteran, Chloe knew how to pick a spot.

The place was packed with guys in bands and ridiculously good-looking college students, all with intense stares and flirting techniques polished to perfection.

Their overly direct advances overwhelmed me. Using the excuse of getting a drink, I escaped the chaotic dance floor to catch my breath.

As I reached the back door, I spotted Quinn and his crew lounging by the bar.

Suddenly, his face darkened. He straightened up and slammed his phone on the table with a bang, irritably reaching toward one of his buddies for their phone.

The guy handed it over reluctantly. "Dude, give it up. You know she blocked all of us—numbers, Snapchat, everything."

Another one took a casual sip of beer. "Listen, just let her go. Won't be long before she comes crawling back to follow you around again."

"Yeah, worst case, just get with Paula. The whole campus can see she's obsessed with you."

Quinn was frantically scrolling through the borrowed phone.

At those words, he snapped his head up, his voice rough with aggression: "Paula's like a sister to me!"

He kept his eyes glued to the screen, completely oblivious to the dismissive, knowing looks his friends exchanged.

Standing in the shadows, I couldn't suppress a bitter laugh.

What bullshit.

Same excuse he'd used when claiming "Marlee's mine"—just his way of crossing lines without looking like the bad guy.

I shook my head and turned to leave. Someone sharp-eyed shouted, "Shit! Is that Marlee?"

Everyone's heads swiveled toward me.

"Well, look at that." "Quinn, your little shadow came crawling back to make up!"

At that, Quinn tossed the phone back on the table, resuming his arrogant posture.

"Marlee, I said give you the weekend to cool off. Look how long you lasted." He raised an eyebrow.

I frowned slightly. "I'm not here for you."

Quinn scoffed, eyeing me for a beat before snatching his jacket off the chair and closing the distance between us.

"Marlee, I'm done with this shit. Block me again, pull another stunt like this—we're finished."

"I'm not here for you, Quinn. And yeah—we're done. Actually done." I held his gaze, stone-cold.

As if stung by my coldness, Quinn rubbed his temples in frustration, putting on a show of magnanimous compromise.

"Fine, stop this. I'll wait one year, then transfer to your school to be with you. There, happy?"

I jerked away from Quinn's reaching hand. The moment I turned, Paula stumbled out from the side.

Like she'd been shoved by a drunk behind her, she shrieked and lurched toward me.

I stepped back instinctively, but her stiletto heel landed squarely on the hem of my silk dress.

Riiip.

With the violent backward pull, the strap snapped instantly.

I lost my balance completely, crashing hard onto the filthy concrete floor. My neckline slipped dramatically, exposing bare skin and the edge of my bra.

Several crude whistles cut through the air.

Paula collapsed beside me, eyes reddening as she clutched at Quinn's pant leg. "Quinn, I'm sorry, someone pushed me..."

Quinn's face went pale. He violently shook off Paula's hand and started to drape his leather jacket over me. "Marlee, are you okay?"

I dodged his reaching hand, clutching my torn neckline as I stood.

Looking down at Paula on the ground, I caught the unmistakable satisfaction in her eyes.

Without a word of warning, I slapped her hard across the face.

The sharp crack echoed. Paula's head snapped to the side as she screamed.

Before she could recover, I grabbed the neckline of her cardigan and yanked hard. Buttons flew. Her lace bra was instantly exposed to everyone around us.

"Since you love playing games that humiliate people, experience it yourself."

Feeling the shameless stares, Paula broke down screaming, frantically wrapping her arms around herself as she sobbed.

Quinn finally snapped out of it. He quickly wrapped his leather jacket around Paula's disheveled form, looking up at me with shock and fury. "Marlee, you've lost your mind!"

Then he scooped Paula up in his arms, his face ashen as he threw out a parting line: "I'm taking her home. Wait here, I'll have my driver pick you up."

I clutched my torn dress closed and laughed—sharp, humorless.

"Keep your driver for your 'good sister.' I'm sure Romeo and Juliet are weeping in their graves, utterly moved by this legendary bond you two share."

His face turned iron-dark. Jaw clenched, he carried Paula out of the warehouse without looking back.

The remaining guys exchanged glances. Someone let out a low, mocking whistle and muttered sarcastically, "Who the hell does he even like?"

After that night, I used the scrapes from my fall as an excuse to stay home and pack in peace.

A one-way ticket to London meant the cleanest possible break. Any belongings tied to old memories—I threw out every single one.

When I pulled out the wooden box containing my brother's things and old photos, Chloe FaceTimed me.

She said Quinn insisted she pass along a message.

He said Paula meant nothing to him. Carrying her out was just damage control—didn't want to make more of a scene.

He also said he'd never forgotten the promise he made at my brother's bedside—to protect me. He told me to wait for him.

I knew that for Quinn, who always held himself above everyone, offering any explanation at all was unprecedented humility.

Before hanging up, Chloe paused, asking tentatively, "Marlee, when he finds out you actually left the country and tracks you down to some school in London... will you soften?"

Standing by the trash can, I held the wooden box filled with unsent love letters and simply let go.

The heavy box crashed to the bottom, like the final destruction of seven absurd years.

I didn't even blink. "Not a chance in hell."