Chapter 2

Riley's POV

I don't know how I get out of the lab.

The late fall wind bites at my face. I walk back to the off-campus apartment Bryce and I rent, numb, my thin jacket doing nothing against the cold.

Everything here has me written all over it. The throw pillows on the couch that I sewed. The stew in the kitchen, the kind Bryce likes.

I used to call this place home, was proud of it. Now it feels like a cage.

I sit on the couch for a long time. Until night falls.

Sophie's smug look in the lab keeps playing in my head. And Bryce's cold voice: "Think about where you went wrong."

At ten, the lock turns.

Bryce walks in, flips the light on. Sees me sitting in the dark. His brow furrows.

"Sitting in the dark like some kind of freak. What's that supposed to prove?"

I lift my head slowly. Behind these thick frames, my eyes don't have that pathetic, pleading look anymore. Just empty calm.

"You're back." My voice comes out flat, completely dead.

Bryce yanks his tie off, tosses it on the couch. Looks down at me. "Still mad about your stupid robot? Riley, grow up. Sophie was so scared she didn't eat a thing tonight. You trying to break her or something?"

"She didn't eat, so you were with her this whole time. Right?" I look at him. The man in front of me feels like a stranger.

"Yeah, so what?" Bryce sounds entitled, annoyed even. "She doesn't know anyone in this city. I'm looking out for her. Can you stop being so paranoid and jealous all the time? Look at yourself. You've gained so much weight, you're miserable all the time. What happened to you?"

That sentence crushes what's left of my self-respect.

I'm heavy because I spend every day running the club and taking care of him, no time to eat properly, my hormones completely wrecked. I'm miserable because I've poured everything into a man who's never once smiled at me.

"Bryce." I stand up, spine straight. "If I disgust you that much, let's break up."

Bryce freezes. Then he laughs, cold and mocking.

"Break up? Riley, what kind of game is this now? Every time we fight, you pull this stunt. You think I'm gonna cave? I'm telling you, the same trick gets old real fast. It's pathetic."

"I'm not joking." I turn and walk into the bedroom.

I pull the suitcase from under the bed and start packing my clothes. Quick and deliberate. I don't even look at the cheap, ill-fitting stuff Bryce bought me.

When he sees I'm serious, Bryce's face darkens. Panic flashes in his eyes, but arrogance takes over fast. He leans against the doorframe. "Fine. Walk out that door. But don't come crawling back to me later."

Right then, his phone rings on the coffee table.

"Sophie" lights up the screen.

Bryce glances at me in the bedroom, still packing. To provoke me, he walks over, picks up, and puts it on speaker.

"Bryce..." Sophie's voice comes through, whiny and tearful. "Where are you? I just had a nightmare. Riley was trying to hurt me. I'm so scared. Can you come over?"

Bryce's eyes soften. His voice goes gentle. "Don't worry, Sophie. It's just a dream. I'll be right there."

He hangs up. Leans against the bedroom doorframe again, looking down at me with that smug look back on his face.

"You heard that. Sophie's terrified because of you. I'm giving you one last chance. Stop packing right now, apologize to Sophie in front of the whole club tomorrow, and I'll forget you said any of this."

I stop and turn around.

I look at Bryce's handsome, repulsive face and sneer.

"Bryce, you and Sophie are perfect for each other. Two pieces of trash. Apologize to her? Dream on."

Bryce's expression twists. He kicks the couch, mutters "unbelievable," grabs his keys, and slams the door on his way out.

A week ago, I would've been crying and begging him to take me back by now.

I can't leave him. He's always known that.

But now, I just stand by the window and watch his car speed off. A bitter laugh escapes me.

Then I turn around and keep packing. I only take the old clothes I bought myself and a few textbooks.

Everything Bryce gave me over the past ten years. The faded stuffed animal, the cheap bracelet, the half-assed birthday cards. I open the drawer and dump it all in the trash.

I zip up the suitcase and leave the keys on the shoe rack by the door.

This time, I'm really leaving. Not looking back.