Page 180 of Tall, Royal Hater
I wished I could have said he looked bad—might’ve made it easier to hold on to my ire if he had. But he didn’t. Cheeks and nose pink from the cold, wearing a long black coat and boots with a bouquet of red roses and a gift bag in one hand, helooked like a devastatingly gorgeous movie hero who was ready to grovel like his life depended on it.
“Mariyah,” he rasped thickly, stepping into my path.
I ignored him and went to walk around him. But he sidestepped in front of me.
His brows pinched in an imploring frown. “Don’t ignore me.Please.”
I pulled my scarf down under my mouth and gritted out, “Move, Shehryar.”
He edged a touch closer. “I hurt you, I know, but I’m sorry. For what I said. After I told you I wouldn’t lash out at you, but I did, and I’m sorry.”
His words were sincere, but for some reason that caused my agitation to heighten. “Don’t bother,” I scoffed bitterly. “Seriously, Shehryar. I mean, it’s clear you genuinely think that of me, so don’t bother apologising when we both know you’re just gonna say it again at some point anyway.”
“No.” He shook his head. “No, I won’t. Because I don’t think that, and I didn’t mean it then either. You were right. I was being judgemental and couldn’t see past my hurt, and I thrust that on you when you were only trying to help. But I won’t do it again. Ever.”
I chuckled, but there was no amusement to it. “Bullshit. You will. Youhave,and you will again.”
“No, I won’t,” he insisted, lifting one hand towards my cheek.
I knocked his wrist away. “Don’t touch me.”
His fingers curled into a fist as he clenched his teeth. The hope flittering in his eyes faded a touch, and as much as he deserved it, I couldn’t relish in his dejection. “You’re shivering,” he eventually said. “Can we please go up and finish this conversation inside?”
“This conversation is already finished, Shehryar.” I stepped back. “I don’t believe you, and I don’t fucking forgive you either.”
“Mar—”
This time when I rounded Shehryar, he didn’t block my path, but he followed beside me to the double door entrance leading into a concierge and reception area.
“You don’t have to believe me yet, just give me a chance to prove myself. Mariyah, please. Mariyah, wait. Wait, just wait.Please.”
He clasped my arm, and I jerked out of his grasp to face him. “What?” I snapped.
“This—this is for you,” he said, eyes frantic and desperate, as he held up the bouquet and transferred the gift bag to his other hand. “At least take this.Please.”
I glanced between the flowers and bag, neither of which looked cheap, and smiled coldly. “Why? Are you trying to buy my forgiveness or your way back into my life?”
It took a second, but slow recognition of his own words cast over his eyes. He lowered his arms, giving me a regretful smile. “Okay. I deserved that.”
“Yeah, you did,” I agreed. “Go home, Shehryar. We’re done.”
I turned away—
“We’re not.”
Only to turn back around. He pinned me still under a determined stare.
“We’re not done, Mariyah,” he repeated. “Be angry. Shout at me, insult me, fight with me. But don’t say we’re done when we’re far from anywhere near done.” He placed the bouquet into my arms, and I held it dumbly. “I’m not going anywhere until I know with certainty that you’re still mine.” He hung the handle of the bag over my fingers. “And until you know that I’m in this—in us for the long run.”
He stepped back, and I wasn’t sure I was breathing as my heart rolled around and screamed.
“Go inside, Mariyah.”
Just like that, the sweet trance snapped. I gritted my teeth as I stomped towards him, then shoved the bag and bouquet back into his hands. “Don’t fucking tell me what to do.”
A childish move? Maybe. But I didn’t fucking care. I was angry, and I was petty, and I wasn’t sorry about it.
I swirled around and headed off into my building without a single glance back.
