Chapter 93

Chapter 93
Cindy's POV

I stared back at John, my heart still racing from what just happened inside. His face was red with anger, his jaw tight like he was trying to hold back words that might cut too deep. But I could see it in his eyes - he was furious with me.
"Why are you getting angry?" I asked, my voice sharper than I meant it to be. The cool night air hit my skin, making me shiver slightly, but I stood my ground.
John's hands were clenched at his sides. "Cindy, what you did in there-"
"I did what I did there to make her feel pain, not because I'm into you," I cut him off, my words coming out fast and heated. "It was an act, John. An act to show that woman she couldn't walk all over me."
"I'm not angry because you called me yours," John said, his voice getting louder. "I'm angry because you put yourself in danger by challenging Fiona. You should have just ignored her."
I felt my blood boil. The way he said it, like I was some weak little girl who couldn't handle herself. Like I should just take whatever people threw at me and smile about it.
I stared at him and let out a bitter laugh. "She called me a slut, John. Should I have let her insult me and just walked away? Should I have stood there like a doormat while she said those things about me?"
John's face got even redder. "I asked you not to wear that, didn't I?"
The words hit me like a slap across the face. I felt my mouth drop open, staring at him in complete shock. All the air seemed to leave my lungs at once.
"Unbelievable," I whispered, then my voice got stronger, angrier. "Thank you, John. Thank you so much."
I could feel tears starting to burn behind my eyes, but I was too angry to let them fall. "You agree with that woman that I am a slut just because I wore this masterpiece. Well, thank you for making that crystal clear."
"Cindy, wait, that's not what I-" John started to say, reaching toward me.
"Save it, John," I snapped, stepping back from his outstretched hand. "Just save it. This is me now, and I'm going to dress however I want, okay? I don't need your permission or your approval."
I turned away from him, my heels clicking angrily on the pavement as I walked to the car. My hands were shaking as I grabbed the door handle, whether from anger or hurt, I couldn't tell. Maybe both.
I slid into the passenger seat and slammed the door harder than necessary. The sound echoed in the quiet night. I crossed my arms and stared straight ahead, refusing to look at John as he got into the driver's seat.
The drive home was silent except for the hum of the engine and the sound of our angry breathing. I could feel John glancing at me from time to time, but I kept my eyes fixed on the passing streetlights. My reflection in the window looked back at me - makeup still perfect, dress still beautiful, but my eyes were cold and hurt.
Every few minutes, John would open his mouth like he wanted to say something, then close it again. Good. I didn't want to hear his excuses or his explanations. His words had already done enough damage.
When we finally pulled into the driveway, I was out of the car before John had even turned off the engine. I walked quickly toward the house, my heels tapping a rapid rhythm on the walkway.
As soon as I stepped inside, I saw Maria arranging some flowers in the hallway. She looked up with a smile that quickly faded when she saw my expression.
"Maria," I said, my voice tight and controlled, "please change my wardrobe. Take out those gowns and put in dresses like this one. I want the dresses I wore as Sasha, not as Cindy anymore."
Maria looked confused, glancing between me and John who had just walked in behind me. Her kind eyes were filled with concern as she studied my face. "Mijo, are you sure? Those beautiful gowns looked so lovely on you-"
"I'm sure," I said firmly.
I caught sight of Bianca coming down the stairs, probably wondering about all the tension she could feel in the air. She was wearing an elegant gown, her hair styled beautifully.
"Hi," I said to her, but it came out short and cold. I wasn't angry with Bianca, but I couldn't manage to sound normal right now.
I felt John's eyes on me as I headed toward the stairs. When I reached the bottom step, I turned and looked at him. He was standing there in his vest, looking like he wanted to say something important.
For a moment, we just stared at each other. I could see something in his eyes - maybe regret, maybe frustration, maybe both. But I was too hurt and too angry to care what he was feeling right now.
I turned away from him and walked upstairs, my hand gripping the banister tightly. Each step felt heavy, like I was carrying the weight of all the words we'd thrown at each other.
Behind me, I could hear the silence stretching out in the hallway. John was probably still standing there, watching me leave. Maria was probably confused about what had just happened. And Bianca was probably trying to figure out why the air felt so thick with tension.
But I didn't look back. I couldn't. Not when his words were still echoing in my head, not when I could still hear him basically calling me a slut just like that awful woman had.
I reached my bedroom and closed the door behind me, finally letting out the breath I'd been holding. My beautiful dress suddenly felt like it was suffocating me, and all I wanted was to get out of it and forget this whole terrible night had ever happened.