Chapter 78
~ Octavia ~
The mont the images burned into my retina, accompanied by that single, mocking sentence, the world around turned into a blur of static. I felt my eyes stinging, a hot tidal wave of tears threatening to spill over.
Without a word, I turned and walked away from Mr. Rice and Victoria, my heart hamring a frantic, painful rhythm against my ribs.
"Hey, Octavia!" Victoria called out, her footsteps hurrying to keep pace with mine. "Is everything okay? Octavia, talk to !"
I stopped abruptly and turned, forcing my features into a mask of cold composure. I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice from trembling. "Everything is fine, Vic. I just...I need to be alone right now."
"Why? Did sothing happen?" she asked, her eyes searching mine with a mix of pity and curiosity.
"No. Everything is fine," I repeated, the lie tasting like ash. "I just need so space. We’ll talk later."
I didn’t wait for her to argue. I ducked into the elevator and watched the doors slide shut, cutting off the rest of the world. Once inside the silence of the suite, I pulled out my phone. I stared at the photos again, zooming in as if hoping to find so proof that it wasn’t him.
But there was no denying it. Franklin.
Naked. Sprawled across a bed that wasn’t ours, sleeping with the peaceful expression of a man without a care in the world.
The sender was a private number—untraceable, anonymous, and devastatingly effective. It didn’t matter who sent it; what mattered was the image of the man who had just confessed his love to , naked in soone else’s bed.
A sharp, physical pain lanced through my chest. I clutched at my blouse, gasping for air as I flung the phone onto the mattress. The sob I had been holding back tore out of , jagged and raw. How could he? How could he build up, give a glimpse of a beautiful future, only to kick the chair out from under ?
I felt like such a pathetic fool. I should have listened to Victoria. She knew that a man like Franklin Flemington didn’t change—certainly not for soone like . Our "magical" night on the beach felt like a cruel joke now, a calculated distraction while he prepared his next betrayal.
The air in the suite felt heavy, suffocating. I couldn’t stay here another minute. With blurred vision, I dragged my suitcase from the closet. I grabbed my clothes from the drawers, not bothering to fold them, just stuffing them into the bag as the tears stread down my face. I didn’t want to tell Victoria. I couldn’t bear the "I told you so" look that would inevitably follow. I had fought so hard to make her believe he was different, and now I was the one choking on the truth.
I checked out at the front desk, ignoring the receptionist’s confused stare as I hauled my luggage through the lobby. I hailed a taxi and directed the driver to the nearest bus station. I needed to get back to Bradford. I needed the walls of my own apartnt to hide the wreckage of my heart.
The bus ride was a blur of gray highways and silent agony. I stared out the window with a deadpan expression, my inner self screaming at the top of her lungs. I hate him. I hate him. I switched my phone off, knowing the calls from Victoria and Franklin would start soon, and I wasn’t ready to hear a single word they had to say.
When I finally reached my apartnt, Nola greeted with her soft, comforting purrs. I collapsed onto my bed, curling into a tight ball, and let the exhaustion take over. I cried until my eyes were swollen shut and my body felt hollow, eventually falling into a fitful, dreamless sleep.
I jerked awake to a thunderous banging on my front door.
"Octavia?"
It was his voice. The sound of it made my blood run cold.
"Octavia! Open up!" he shouted, his fists continuing to drum against the wood.
I sat up slowly as Nola trotted into the room. I scooped her up, feeling her tiny heart beating against mine. "Sshh... maybe if we’re quiet, he’ll go away," I whispered, but she just purred louder.
"Octavia, baby, I know you’re in there!" Franklin’s voice was desperate, echoing through the thin walls.
"Please, just co out and talk to . I don’t understand why you left like that without a word. I’m not leaving until we talk!"
The banging continued, louder now. Afraid the neighbors would call the police or march up to complain, I set Nola down and walked to the door. I didn’t open it at first.
"Go away, Franklin," I said, my voice cold and flat. "I really don’t want to talk to you."
"Octavia? You’re there! Thank God. Please, don’t say that. Just let in, okay? I beg of you."
I took a deep breath, steeling myself, and swung the door open. He looked disheveled, his eyes bloodshot and filled with a relief that turned my stomach.
"Hey, baby," he breathed.
"Don’t call that," I snapped.
"Why not? I thought you liked it..." He trailed off, looking confused.
"What do you want, Franklin?" I demanded, leaning against the doorfra to keep my hands from shaking.
"Woah... why the attitude? I want to know why you vanished from the resort! I’ve been half-insane trying to track you down."
I scoffed, looking him up and down with pure disgust. "So, you’re really going to stand there and pretend you did nothing?"
"What did I do? You an not returning to the suite? Okay I will explain what happened Octavia, I was called away for a eting. I felt tipsy, passed out on a couch, and didn’t wake up until morning. I ca straight back to find you gone! It was a mistake, and I’m sorry I left you alone."
Listening to him was like being stabbed. The lies rolled off his tongue so smoothly, with such practiced sincerity.
"Liar," I whispered, the tears starting to swell again.
"What?"
"You are a skilled liar, Franklin," I said, my voice rising. "How can you stand there and look in the eye while those lies roll off your tongue?"
"I’m not lying! What did I do, Octavia? Why are you crying?" He reached out to touch my arm, but I jerked away as if his skin were white-hot iron.
"Don’t you dare touch !" I yelled, not caring who heard.
"What is wrong? I said I was sorry for leaving you at the suite! It was never my intention!"
I’d had enough. "I think you should leave, Franklin."
"What? I don’t even know what’s going on!"
"Since you’ve decided to play the part of the innocent victim, I’ll play the part of the woman who doesn’t care anymore. Get out. Now."
"Octav—"
"LEAVE!" I scread.
I slamd the door in his face, turning the deadbolt with a trembling hand. I leaned my back against the wood and slid down until I was crumpled on the floor.
As I listened to his muffled pleas from the hallway, I began to sob into my hands.
Another betrayal.
Another broken promise.
It was finally confird: I was never ant to be loved. I was only ant to be used.
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