Chapter 3

3.

My father died in a car crash when I was young, and Margaret raised me by herself, working two jobs. She was a nurse at the hospital during the day and taught first-aid classes at a community college at night. She destroyed her own health to put me through Columbia University. Her greatest wish was to see me in a wedding dress, marrying a man who would cherish me.

Instead, I had let her die in shame and disappointment.

“I’m so sorry, Mom,” I whispered, my voice choked with sobs.

After a long time, I stood up to leave, only to see Dorian and Sloane at the end of the path.

Dorian was in a Burberry trench coat, supporting a frail-looking Sloane. She was clutching a small, ornate wooden box to her chest, her face etched with that same pathetic vulnerability I had seen so many times before.

“Oh, Dorian, it’s so peaceful here. Buddy would have loved it,” Sloane said, her voice soft and delicate.

Buddy was the Golden Doodle she had adopted a few months ago.

I wanted nothing to do with them. I pulled the brim of my hat down and tried to walk around them. But Dorian saw me.

He stepped directly into my path, his brow furrowed. “Are you stalking me?”

Even here, even now, his first instinct was to assume I was the one being unreasonable.

I didn’t have the energy to argue. I tried to step around him.

But Sloane rushed forward, her voice laced with carefully crafted guilt. “Anna, I know this looks terrible, but… Buddy passed away so suddenly, and I just―I couldn’t handle it alone. Dorian is just helping me say goodbye. You know how he is.”

Her tone was sincere, but her eyes gleamed with the light of a victor.

“A dog,” I said, my voice flat as I looked at her. “I thought your boyfriend died, the way you act like you can’t live without him.”

Dorian’s face darkened. “Anna, can you not do this right now? Buddy meant everything to Sloane. Have some compassion.”

See, that was Dorian. Always so eager to jump in and be the white knight for her.

I was tired. I didn't even have the strength to fight anymore.

“Whatever. Excuse me.”

I shoved past his shoulder and walked away.