ZOELLA'S POV
Liam had been hovering around me all day like a bee chasing honey. It had taken all of my willpower to pretend that his presence didn't nauseate me.
My father had texted me hours ago, summoning me to the family house. So here I was, standing in front of the home I hadn't lived in for years.
It was still the same red tiled roof lined with the same sharp-edged roses sprinkled along the walkway. But somehow, the dread in my chest felt just as fresh as it did back then.
I hadn't even made it past the foyer when I heard my name.
"Zoella!"
The deep baritone of my father's voice reverberated through the air like a whip. I barely had time to square my shoulders before his figure emerged from the living room, eyes already ablaze with fury.
"What the hell are you thinking?" His voice boomed. "Do you want to burn everything we've built to the ground?"
Before I could ask what everything was supposed to be, his palm met my cheek with a sharp, humiliating sting that echoed across the room.
My head jerked sideways as I staggered back, my palms flying to the burning side of my face. My body locked, and I was too stunned to speak. The silence afterward screamed louder than his words ever could.
Tears stung my eyes, but I sniffed in quick succession, refusing to let them fall.
I couldn't cry, not here, not in front of him.
"Have you lost your damn mind!?" he bellowed. "Do you know what you've done? Liam called me last night in a panic. Said you stormed out. What did you do, Zoella?"
I blinked. Once. Twice. The sting on my cheek was nothing compared to the way my chest caved in.
"I-he-"
"No! Don't talk back. You think you can just throw tantrums because a man made a drunken mistake?" He sneered. "You think you're some princess? You're not irreplaceable, Zoella. After everything Liam has done for you, you're going to throw it away over what, huh?"
My mouth fell open. I couldn't believe that my father was calling Liam's actions a drunken mistake. "He cheated on me."
"And you'll cheat the family out of a wedding because your feelings are hurt? You've always been so impulsive and dramatic, and now you want to show that you're incapable of preserving a golden match," he continued to lash out.
I stared at my father, too stunned to speak. I couldn't find the words. My chest burned, not just from anger but also from betrayal. Again.
This time from the man who was supposed to protect me.
"Fa-father," the word came out strangled as a wave of pain swept through me. "Liam slept with Madison in our home."
"And so?" he scoffed, a look of impatience crossing his face. "Every man wets his di.ck once in a while. Liam is the closest I have to a son who would take over my business, and you will not! I repeat not ruin this with your tantrums!"
My heart twisted in pain as I realized that I wasn't going to get comfort or support from here.
"Fix your mess," he scoffed. "I don't want to hear a damn word about it again, or I swear to God I will disown you." his voice was cold and final as he turned and walked out.
"Poor Zoey, you always manage to mess things up when they matter most. It's like clockwork. You've never been able to keep anything. Not a toy, not a friend, and definitely not a man."
I looked up to see Talia, my little sister, resting against the railing with her arms crossed. A smirk tugged at her lips like she was watching the best episode of her favorite soap opera.
"Looks like Daddy's golden girl isn't so golden after all," she drawled in barely concealed disdain.
I ground my teeth. She was staring at me with a sympathetic smile on her face that looked too much like a sneer. Her auburn hair was curled into waves and flowing down her back.
"You know, if I were engaged to Liam, I wouldn't let a little hiccup ruin the whole wedding," she continued whilst inspecting her outrageously long manicure.
"Of course you wouldn't. You've always had a thing for bottom barrel men." I scoffed, referring to her most recent affair with a married man.
Talia had always hated me ever since we were kids. I know for some people having a sister means you get to have your own best friend, but mine has been the opposite.
She wanted what I had, fought me constantly for my parents' approval, even though they've always been partial towards her.
Just then, my mother appeared in the hallway, folding her arms like a judge at a sentencing. "You should've picked your battles more wisely, Zoella. Liam's a good man. And he's done everything your father asked of him."
"Except be faithful, Mum."
"That doesn't mean a thing. Your father has had mistresses, but we still have a happy home. What do you know about sacrifices?"
She moved further into the room."Of course, this would happen right before the bridal shower. You've always made everything about you."
I knew my mum was referring to the time when I ran away as a kid and went missing for weeks. My parents have never let me live that down.
I wanted to scream at her, to ask her to just hear me for once in her life and not just listen.
But what was the point? This house never ran on fairness or facts. All she and my father cared about were appearances and ego boosts.
I'd lost long before the game even began.
I stormed up the stairs, shoving Talia slightly as her evil laughter echoed after me as I stormed into my old bedroom, which was still decorated in old lilac wallpaper, stickers, and childhood books stacked on the shelves, and slammed the door shut behind me.
The tears that had been burning behind my eyes finally broke loose.
They slipped down my cheeks in hot, silent streaks, one after the other, until I was no longer blinking them back but drowning in them.
A sob tore from my throat, a jagged, broken sound that echoed in the empty room like something inside me had snapped.
I folded forward, my elbows digging into my thighs, and let my head hang between my trembling hands.
My chest heaved, uneven and sharp. Like my lungs were protesting every breath. My palms were slick with sweat. My whole body shook with the sheer weight of everything I'd held in for the last twenty-four hours.
They didn't care.
Not my mother with her carefully pressed lips and backhanded concern. Not my father, whose love came with contracts and conditions. And not Talia, who stood on the sidelines waiting to feast on the remains of whatever I ruined.
They didn't care about me.
Not my heart.
Not my humiliation.
Not the ache that lived in my throat.
They cared about optics.
About business partnerships and image management, and whether the wedding would still happen. As if my pain was just a minor PR hiccup.
I curled in on myself.
God, I had bent over backward for that man.
But now I was the problem.
I clenched my jaw so tight my teeth ached. My fingers dug into my thighs, the pain grounding me, anchoring me.
I sobbed again. This time quieter.
Everything I had poured into him, all the grace, the patience, the love, had been thrown away like it meant nothing.
And my family... they just wanted to smooth it over, sweep me back into place like a shattered doll glued at the seams.
They could all go to hell.
A soft buzz from my phone pulled me out of the spiral. It was a message from Lani. I had promised to call the moment I got home, but the last seventeen hours have been a mess.
Lani: Girl, are you okay? Just checking in. Do you need backup or bail money? Just say the word, and I'll show up at Liam's house with soldier ants.
A tear rolled down my cheek, but I smiled. The first real one in twenty-four hours.
Me: I'm still breathing but barely. I'm at my parents' house now. Trust me, you don't wanna know.
Her reply came instantly.
Lani: Try me. I'll be at your place tonight with ice cream and pepper spray.
I laughed despite the pain clawing at my chest. I didn't deserve her kindness.
I dropped my phone on the dresser as I flopped onto the bed, letting out a deep sigh. I needed to do something for myself and fast.
I needed to get a job and stack up enough money to sustain myself when everything eventually goes to sh.it.
I had the skills, but I had been sitting on my potential for so damn long, all because of Liam, but not anymore.
It was time to become the best version of myself, time to become a girl boss.
I wiped my face and inhaled deeply. I couldn't fall apart now. Not when the universe was giving me the chance to rise from this wreckage.
Another buzz followed, this time from my work line. I turned over and picked up the phone.
Unknown number: CONGRATULATIONS. Your Interview for the job offer from HART & ROWE ENTERPRISE has been rescheduled for Tomorrow at 10 AM sharp.
My heart gave a little lurch of joy.
It seems like the Universe was listening after all.
