He grabbed my arm and dragged me roughly toward the door.
"Marilyn, what the hell are you doing?"
"If there's something you want to say, why can't we talk about it in private? Why did you have to make a scene in front of Stacy?"
I looked at him, unable to hold back any longer, and slapped him across the face.
Stacy stumbled back a step, pulling out her phone and pointing it at me, her voice trembling with tears.
"Marilyn, I'm calling the police! How could you hit someone?"
"Miles, are you okay? The police will be here soon—they'll get this crazy woman out of here."
We stayed locked in that standoff until the police arrived.
The officer in charge surveyed the wreckage I'd made of the apartment, then looked at the three of us.
"What's going on here?"
I wrenched my arm free from Miles's grip. My voice shook, but I forced the words out.
"I'm his girlfriend. We've been in a long-distance relationship for four years. He cheated on me."
Before I could say anything else, Stacy's voice cut in.
"She's lying. She's just an old classmate of Miles's. She showed up out of nowhere and started causing trouble—she's the one who smashed all our things."
The officer raised an eyebrow and turned to me, his tone flat.
"If you're just an old classmate, you'll need to compensate them for everything you damaged."
"We are a couple! I have proof!"
I fumbled for my phone, desperate to explain.
But when I opened my chat history with Miles, the words died in my throat.
The screen was filled with messages—all from me. His replies were always the same few words:
"Busy." "Mm." "Okay."
Not a single "babe." Not even one message that showed he cared.
I stood there holding my phone, cold seeping through my entire body. My hand went still.
The officer glanced at the screen. The corner of his mouth twitched into something that wasn't quite a smile.
"This constitutes disturbing the peace. You'll have to compensate them for the damaged property. If the circumstances are serious enough, you could also face detention."
Stacy jumped in immediately.
"Officer, please lock this crazy woman up! She just hit my boyfriend—she's completely out of control!"
The officer turned to Miles, waiting for his response.
Miles frowned. He was silent for a few seconds, then hesitated.
"Detention isn't necessary. Just have her pay for what she broke."
He paused, his gaze falling on the shattered pieces scattered across the floor.
"That mug... it was my girlfriend's favorite."
In that moment, something inside me went numb.
All the grievance, the rage, the injustice—it was like a balloon that had been punctured. Everything just deflated.
I tugged at the corner of my mouth. I didn't argue. I didn't cry or scream. I just said, my voice hoarse:
"I'll pay."
But Stacy wouldn't let it go. She clung to Miles's arm, her voice turning coy and petulant.
"No way. She came into our home and made this huge scene—smashing things, hitting people. I was terrified."
"You can't go soft on her just because she's an old classmate! She needs to be detained. We can't just let this slide."
I looked at Miles and let out a bitter laugh. What would he choose this time?
Miles avoided my eyes. He frowned but didn't push back. He just said quietly to the officer:
"Follow standard procedure."
That one sentence pushed me over the edge into the abyss.
I thought detention would just be a simple punishment. I had no idea that walking into that holding cell would be the beginning of my nightmare.
I hadn't been inside long before a group of women surrounded me, looking me up and down, their eyes full of mockery and contempt.
