My Guardian's Cruelest Love Game

Holla

He had seen something. Or suspected. My mind raced, trying to conjure a plausible lie, but my thoughts were a jumble

arely a whisper, trying to keep my expression

mand for the truth. He had always been able to read me, to see through my flimsy defenses, but I refused to let him control this last, fragile shred of my pri

for a hidden defect. The air grew thick with unspoken tension. I braced my

ecially not academic colleagues. Focus on your studies, on the work. Keep your distance from others." It wasn't a

love, orchestrated my humiliation, and now he wanted to dictate my friendships? The audacity of i

. "Of course, Kendrick. Understood." My voice was as flat as hi

the door. "Make sure you drink that tea. And get some rest. You look tired." Th

ouched. Its cloying sweetness, still warm, seemed to mock me. I couldn't bring myself to drink it. The

he behind my eyes, a lingering sense of exhaustion. I dressed quickly, det

ast I wouldn't have to endure their saccharine domesticity over breakfast. I busied myself,

es flooded the screen. Chrissy, radiant and laughing, on a sun-drenched beach. Kendrick beside her, his arm around her waist, a genuine, joyful smile on his face. The cap

s cruel charade, they were off on a romantic retreat. His tenderness, that rare, soft expression I'd glimpsed on his face, was on full di

. Now, he was spontaneously whisking Chrissy away, showering her with the very experiences I had once f

. The images, once capable of tearing my heart to shreds, now barely registered. There was

me with a warm smile. "Amirah, the MIT department head just confirmed your acceptance! You start ne

giving myself just enough time to tie up loose ends. I knew I needed to make a clean break, to leave New York with nothing holding me back. I told myself it was for a be

g against the sudden chill. I remembered a similar downpour years ago, when I was sixteen. I'd been caught in a sudden storm, ill-prepared, and Kendrick had rushe

oaked through my clothes, chilling me to the bone. My head spun, a dull ache intensify

ed to catch myself, but my legs gave out completely. I collapsed onto the wet pavement, t

. A nurse, a kind-faced woman with tired eyes, was checking my IV drip. "You're awake," she said softly.

letely oblivious. I was alone, again. The nurse gave me a sympat

y. Even after everything, the habit was deeply ingrained. I knew he was busy, always busy, but surely he would want to know. He always answered my

oment of silence, then a robotic voice: "The number you have dialed is curre

of pain. Had he blocked me? Or was he truly so engrossed in Chrissy that he turned off his

but firm. "Honey, have you reached anyone?

ie tasting like ash. "He's a lawyer. Very important. And," I added, the words catching in my

nconvenience to be managed. The memory of his past concern, the way he'd rushed to my side when I was younger, felt like a distant dream. I was alone, truly alone. A