Joanne stood frozen, her nails digging painfully into her palms. Anything to keep from crying.
No.
She wouldn't cry. Not here. Not in front of them.
The weight of betrayal pressed against her chest, suffocating. Yes, she had planned to break up with Jonathan, but must he do this now? Here, in public, where anyone could see?
How long had they been kissing?
It felt like an eternity.
Her insides twisted—not just from heartbreak, but from shame. And that part confused her the most. Why should I feel ashamed? She had done nothing wrong. She had come here to do the right thing, to end things properly.
Just like she had wanted to with Jeffrey Winchester.
But he had vanished before she could even open her mouth.
Why do men always run from me when I try to do the right thing?
Was she that despicable? Was she so unworthy that they couldn't wait to be rid of her?
Why was history so cruelly repeating itself?
