CHAPTER 132
**WINTER**
Humiliation seeps into every inch of my skin, poisoning my veins as last night’s memories claw their way to the surface. My grip tightens around my fork, my knuckles turning white. I force myself to swallow the bite of pancake in my mouth, but it sits like a rock in my throat, refusing to go down smoothly.
I’m so disappointed in myself.
The way I had begged Zion to stay with me…
For a moment, it had felt real. Like he was his old self again—like he was mine. He held me in his arms, his warmth wrapping around me, making my heart race and my stomach twist with something I hadn’t felt in so long. But this morning? He didn’t even look at me. Just brushed me off like I was nothing. Like I was some inconvenience.
I felt sorry for you, that’s all. I pitied you, and I stayed. If I hadn’t passed out, I would’ve left
His words play on a relentless loop in my mind, each repetition cutting deeper than the last. No matter how hard I try to push them away, they linger—sharp, unforgiving, echoing through me like a wound that refuses to close.
Across from me, Zion is shovelling pancakes into his mouth like he can’t wait to finish and get out of here, completely unaffected while I sit here choking on my shame.
The conversation around me blurs, voices merging into a dull hum as I fight to keep my expression neutral, to pretend that last night didn’t mean everything to me—and nothing to him.
A dull throbbing builds behind my eyes, and I clench my jaw, swallowing the bitter taste of regret.
I practically begged him to stay. God, I was so desperate for him, I would’ve given myself to him—my virginity—if he wanted it. If it weren’t for the sleeping tablets dragging me under, I would’ve let him have all of me. The memory makes my skin crawl. How could I feel that way after everything he’s done?
After the way he’s treated me since I got here—after he kissed me in the woods, only to turn around and spit venom at me, to humiliate me, to leave me broken.
What the hell is wrong with me?
He doesn’t want me.
He never did.
The only thing he feels for me is hatred, and yet, like a fool, I keep hoping—keep searching for something in him that doesn’t exist. But today, I won’t let it slide. Today, he’s going to tell me exactly what I did to deserve this, what lie I supposedly told that made him hell-bent on ruining me. Because I refuse to keep drowning in the wreckage of his anger without knowing why.
"Winter..."
"Winter..."
My head snaps up at the sound of my name, my grip tightening around my fork. Jenny watches me with concern, her soft smile meant to be reassuring. But it’s not. Not when my eyes shift to Zion, who’s also looking at me—his brows furrowed, his gaze unreadable.
"Are you okay, dear?" Jenny asks gently. "I called your name a few times."
"Yeah," I murmur, forcing a small, dismissive shrug. "Just... still a little drowsy from the pills."
Jenny’s worried gaze lingers for a moment longer, but she nods, seeming to accept my answer. I drop my eyes back to my plate, pushing my food around with my fork, my appetite all but gone. But I can still feel Zion watching me, and I hate that it makes my skin prickle and my pulse quicken.
"Anyway," Jenny continues gently, her voice laced with careful concern.
"I’ve already spoken to Mr Holland and let him know you’ll be taking the week off to recover from everything that happened." She offers me a warm smile like she’s just done me a favour.
My stomach drops.
“What... why?” My utensils slip from my fingers, clattering against the plate. The sound is sharp, final, like the decision that’s already been made without me.
"It’s okay, sweetheart. He completely understood and thought it was the right thing to do, given the circumstances."
The right thing… given the circumstances. I echo the words in my mind, bitterness curling around my ribs.
“No.” I shake my head, my breath coming in sharp and uneven.
“No, I can’t just stay home!” My voice rises, my pulse thundering in my ears. “I’m fine, and I need to keep my mind busy. I can’t just sit around and—” My breath catches, frustration clawing at my throat. “I’m going to college.”
"No!"
The single word crashes into me like a brick wall, stopping me cold.
I turn—my father, speaking for the first time since everything happened. Since I was attacked. Not to ask if I’m okay, not to tell me he’s relieved, not even to pretend he gives a damn.
Just No. A command. A decision I have no say in.
My hands curl into fists under the table. I feel the sting behind my eyes, but I refuse to let it show. I won’t let him see how much that cuts deeper than the bruises on my skin.
"You’re not going to college, and that’s final."
Silence hangs thick in the air, my pulse hammering against my skull. My lips part, but no words come out. Because what’s the point? He’s already made up his mind.
But something in me refuses to sit back and take it.
“You can’t stop me from living my life,” I say, my voice trembling—part anger, part disbelief. My hands curl into fists beneath the table as I force myself to meet his gaze. “Something horrible happened to me, Dad. But I’m still here. I’m still me. And I won’t let what he did define me… or let you decide how I move forward.” My breath shakes, but I push through. “Not that you’d care—you haven’t even asked if I’m okay.”
"They’re right," Zion says, his voice flat, like it’s the easiest thing in the world to agree with them. Like it doesn’t matter. Like I don’t matter.
My head snaps toward him, my glare sharp enough to cut. But Zion doesn’t flinch. He just meets my eyes with a lazy, almost bored stare, scooping another spoonful of pancakes into his mouth like this conversation is nothing more than background noise to him.
"You don’t exactly look pretty right now, Snowflake," he adds, his tone careless, almost amused.
“You think it’s a good idea to be parading around campus looking like that, Snowflake?”
His lips twitch into something that isn’t quite a smirk, isn’t quite a pity.
"Cindy and her little band of followers would have a field day with you showing up like this...But hey, if you’re in the mood to be their next source of entertainment, be my guest.”
His words hit harder than I expected, knocking the breath from my lungs. Shame and fury coil tight inside me, burning beneath my skin. He doesn’t even flinch when he says it. It’s just a fact. It’s not cruel.
Jenny’s eyes snap to him, her face hardening. “Zion, that’s enough,” she scolds, her voice tight with disapproval.
He just shrugs, unfazed.
"I’m just laying out the facts Mom... but hey, she can do whatever the fuck she wants."
Then, without missing a beat, he shovels more pancakes into his mouth, as if the conversation is already over.
I seethe, every muscle in my body coiling with frustration, wanting nothing more than to launch myself across the table and wipe that smug expression off his face with a punch. His complete indifference to me, to everything that's happening, makes my blood boil.
I can almost feel the sting of my fist connecting with his jaw, the satisfaction of shutting him up for once.
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