Page 51 of Words We Didn't Say

“Just your fuck buddy?”

His jaw clenched.

“And you’re still calling her that adorable pet name,” I said. “I love how you guys rhyme. Zach and Mac. Total couple goals.”

“Everyone calls her Mac!”

“Is that what you call out when you come?”

Zach’s eyes bulged.“Eden!”He growled my name. “I keep my personal lifepersonal.” He’d never glared at me like that before. Agitated, almost angry, like he had something to lose—and it wasn’t me. “I don’t broadcast my business for the whole bloody stadium to hear!”

“No, of course not. No one can know about your dirty little secrets.”

“Eden, you weren’t—”

“No, I wasn’t even your secret, was I? I was no one.” My laugh was dark. “It takes one to know one, right?”

“What’sthatsupposed to mean?”

“Does your pride burn to see me here with arealman, Zach? Sam’s a big deal in this city. Notice how your colleagues fell over themselves to shake his hand? And who are you? Some half-baked lawyer?” I snorted. “Not even apartner.”

Zach’s face shuttered. Did he think I’d let him stonewall me? I wanted his anger. I wanted him to argue back. I wanted him to tell me in a fit of rage why I’d never been good enough. So, I stooped even lower into the filth to get a reaction.

“I can’t believe I ever settled for someone as pathetic as you,” I said, my voice edged with cruel.

A soft whimper of shock was torn out of Zach, as if I’d reached in and ripped his heart out. I clapped my hand over my mouth. I regretted letting my pain take hold of me, wrenching those ugly words from my throat and spewing them into the world. I knew he was sensitive about his work…himself…how quietly he moved around in the world.I knew.And I’d said the words anyway.

“Z-Zach, I—”

“I can’t believe you chose me, either.” He jerked his chin down in a nod. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

There was nothing sweet about my revenge…or watching the shattered shell of the man who walked away.

14

She said, “You were never there.”

Eden

Flashbulbs crackled like white-hotfireworks.

“You ready, babe?” Sam grinned.

He didn’t shy away from the paparazzi; he ate up the attention. He slung his tree trunk arm around my waist and charged us through the defensive line of cameras crowding the entrance of El Diablo Cantina.

Cocktail bars in Sydney didn’t get more exclusive than the Cantina. Tucked underground, it was edgy and vintage and all kinds of cool. Mahogany walls, rich suede leathers, oversized chandeliers, and everything soaked in luxe. That place was the shit. The real deal. People—celebrities—went there to beseen.

The suited giant guarding the door nodded and lifted the red velvet rope. Sam and I didn’t need to be on his list. We were known. We were in.

But the Cantina was the last place in the world I wanted to be.

My big, lonely bed was calling. I wanted to curl up under my doona with a packet of Tim Tams, watch an endless stream of cats squishing their butts into boxes on my phone, and pretend the night never happened.

My revenge hadn’t gone to plan. I hadn’t acted like the bigger person. I’d stooped so low—soverylow—to hurt Zach. Why had I let such ugly words spew out of my mouth? By the time I’d gulped down enough champagne to bravely step into my big-girl apology pants, Zach had left.

Guilt churned in my stomach.

I stole a look at my phone. His number lit up the top of my blocked contacts. My thumb hovered over the screen.

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