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If the building burned down, I'd burn with it rather than let any of them play savior.

Is this what a breakup feels like when you were never actually together?

The thought sat heavy in my chest, right next to the ache that had taken up permanent residence since Monday morning. Since I'd looked Knox in the eye and seen twenty years of cowardice staring back. I'd finally confronted the elephant in the room, and admitted out loud that I was tired of waiting for men who'd never be brave enough to claim me.

Who wants to continue being a broken record?

Explaining myself over and over against around the spiraling dance of what I need versus what I deserve — which at this point, none of them seemed like a priority to my men right now.

And that was the problem, because they were focusing on building themselves to be as close to perfection as they canachieve, but are we really waiting another twenty-years to make this official.

I’d rather die than deal with that shit.

"Ms. Morclair?" Dimitri's voice pulled me from my spiral. My driver had the patience of a saint, but even he was starting to fray around the edges. "The gridlock appears total. No signal on the radio either—can't reach dispatch to find alternate routes."

I glanced at the dashboard clock. 2:47 PM. The meeting had started seventeen minutes ago.

Good. Not like they give a damn and wonder where their fearless leader had gone.

I already had enough haters. I really didn’t care at this point if I ended up acquiring more like some sort of limited edition collectable of grudges.

"Why don't you step out and try to get signal?" I suggested, noting how the businessman next to us had already abandoned his vehicle to pace the shoulder. "Call Marina. Tell her to cancel everything for today. Cite infrastructure emergency or something equally bureaucratic."

"Are you certain you'll be alright alone?"

I almost laughed. Alone was all I'd been for days, surrounded by people who claimed to love me but wouldn't commit to me. What was a few more minutes?

"I'll manage, Dimitri. Go."

He hesitated, that paternal concern that made him excellent at his job, before nodding.

"I'll be just up ahead where those officers are gathering. Lock the doors."

As if locked doors had ever protected me from what really hurt.

The car felt smaller once he left, the tinted windows creating a fishbowl effect that made the outside world seem distant andunreal. I pulled out my phone, needing distraction from the crushing weight of my own thoughts.

Angry Birds loaded with cheerful music that felt like mockery. But there was something satisfying about flinging cartoon birds at precarious structures, watching them collapse in clouds of digital debris. Destruction I could control. Chaos I could orchestrate.

Unlike my actual life.

I was three stars deep into level 47 when the text came through.

Unknown number, but the digits made me pause. The area code was wrong, but the remaining numbers...

My birthday.

Every digit perfectly aligned to the date that marked my entrance into this unforgiving world. The coincidence was too precise to be random, too deliberate to be accident.

I shifted in my seat, leather creaking under expensive fabric as I opened the message.

"If you could start over from 17 years ago, what would you do different?"

The question hit like a physical blow, stealing air from my lungs. Seventeen years ago. When I was twenty-three and desperate and tutoring?—

No.

This had to be Malcolm, playing games through a spoofed number. Or Knox, finally growing creative in his attempts to reach me. The birthday digits were something they'd both know, both use to get my attention.