Wish I Never Met You Chapter 3 Part 4
CHAPTER 3 · PART FOUR
“When I get back, Mom.”
She was already bolting toward the door, cereal forgotten.
“Don’t be out late, kiddo!”
“I know!”
The door slammed shut before I could say another word.
A beat barely passed before Zara looked up at me, her brows furrowed in concern. “So, what’s been bothering you, H?”
“Nothing much,” I said, forcing a shrug, “except that I just agreed to marry one of the richest men in the country.”
Her spoon clattered into her bowl. “That was the last thing I was expecting you to say. What the fuck happened?”
“He was a client. One I stopped seeing months ago. Then, out of nowhere, he shows up and proposes this marriage deal.”
“I thought you had a strict no-mixing-business-with-your-personal-life rule.”
“I do.”
“Not anymore,” she said, disbelief edging her voice.
“I know it’s a risk. I know it could expose Gabby. But he swore he wouldn’t tell her anything.”
Zara stared at me. “I’m surprised. Money isn’t something I thought would move you to marry a man you don’t love—unless…”
“Gabby,” I said quietly. “It’s because of Gabby. She has a bright future. One I never had the chance to have. One that would be easier if we had a bit of money— and Seth Baker’s connections.”
“And that’s why you agreed to marry him?” Zara scoffed. “Marriage, H. Freaking marriage. Unless you’re planning to divorce him and walk away with half his assets, this is a massive commitment.”
That made me laugh—a real laugh that eased the tightness in my chest. Zara joined in, the tension between us lifting just a little.
“He only wants six months,” I said softly. “And like you said, I’d do anything for Gabby.”
“What if he’s—”
The door slammed open, cutting her off.
Gabby stood there, arms folded, brows drawn tight, lips pressed into a furious line.
“So that’s the stupid thing you were so hellbent on doing?”
My stomach dropped.
“Gabby—”
“So that was it?” Her voice was quiet but sharp. Controlled. Dangerous.
Zara froze mid-bite, her spoon hovering over her cereal bowl.
“I can explain—”
“Oh, I bet you can,” Gabby snapped. “You’re marrying some guy? For me? Do you hear yourself? Do you have any idea how insane that sounds?”
Her hands clenched into fists. “I didn’t ask for this. I never asked for any of this.”
Her voice cracked, anger bleeding into something raw and painful.
I stepped closer. “Gabby, listen—”
“No.” She shook her head. “You listen. You always say we don’t need anyone but each other. And now you’re throwing that away. For him?”
“It’s not like that,” I said firmly. “This is about giving you a better future.”
“I don’t want his future!” she yelled. “I want you. Just you. Not this mess.”
The words hit harder than any slap.
Zara finally spoke. “Maybe you two should—”
“Stay out of it, Zara.”
I crossed the room and crouched in front of Gabby. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you sooner. But I need you to trust me. I’m doing this to protect us.”
Her jaw tightened.
Then she turned and stormed toward the door.
“Gabby—”
“I need air.”
The door slammed shut.
Silence followed.
Zara looked at me over her cereal bowl. “That went well.”
I sank into a chair. “She’ll cool off.”
“That wasn’t cooling off,” Zara said dryly. “That was a volcanic eruption.”
I didn’t answer.
Because the truth was—I wasn’t sure about anything anymore.