Chapter 98 Did You Ever Love Me?
The words hit Zachary like a punch to the gut, leaving him speechless for a long moment. His eyes darkened as he studied Quinley, searching her face. Was she joking? Or had something made her angry with him?
"Break off the engagement with him." Zachary issued the command like she was still his secretary. Before, whenever he gave an order—no matter how outrageous—she'd carry it out without question. He fixed those ink-dark eyes on her, radiating that born authority of his.
Quinley pushed against his chest. "Not happening. Mr. Jennings, I need you to stop showing up here. I'm getting married soon, and I don't want my fiancé getting the wrong idea."
She brushed past Zachary, heading straight for the door. Like they were nothing more than strangers now.
"Do you love him?"
Quinley was fishing for her keys when Zachary's voice stopped her cold.
Love? First time that word had ever crossed his lips. How... interesting. This kind of emotional talk wasn't their thing. Especially not tonight.
She paused, key halfway to the lock, then turned to face him. He looked defeated. That trademark confidence had drained from his face, and those glacier-cold eyes actually held a flicker of... sadness?
"Mr. Jennings, love is so cliché!" Quinley laughed, the sound light as air. The more desperate he seemed, the more effortlessly detached she became. "David loving me is enough."
She wouldn't even call him by his first name anymore. Wouldn't match his vulnerable tone. He'd dropped his mask, but she'd welded hers in place. Truth, lies—did any of it really matter?
"You promised to wait for me. Why are you going back on your word?" Zachary's voice carried a mix of disbelief and anger.
A chill ran down Quinley's spine. Then she smiled again. "Can't I change my mind?" She was being an emotional deadbeat, and it left Zachary completely helpless.
As Quinley pulled the door open, his voice reached her one more time. "Did you ever love me?"
The question made her heart skip despite herself. She looked at him deeply, trying to see past his walls into his heart. She had loved him. Completely, desperately. But she'd learned that love only left you torn to pieces. So what was the point of that pale, humiliating emotion?
"Zachary, did you ever love me?" Instead of answering, she threw the question back at him.
"I did."
She hadn't expected an answer, but there it was. His response should have meant everything. Instead, it left her shaken. Too little, too late. Nothing but regret now. Her pulse sped up for just a moment before settling back to calm.
Loved. Past tense. And she hadn't been the only one he'd loved, had she? Besides, she was just a stand-in. Why should she care?
"You sure it was me you loved?" Her eyes held a mocking glint. Some things were better left unsaid. But if he wouldn't break the silence, neither would she.
"Who do you think it was?" Zachary's expression darkened as he turned the question around.
Their gazes locked, electric and dangerous. One demanding answers, the other backing down. Quinley let out a cold laugh. How presumptuous of her! She was the replacement, after all. How could she compete with the original?
So she shrugged, faking a yawn and putting on her best 'couldn't care less' expression. "I'm tired. Want to get some sleep. You should head home, Mr. Jennings."
Before Zachary could react, she slammed the door shut. But the second it closed, she slid down against it until she was sitting on the floor. She'd made her choice. But how could even the most rational decision escape the guilt that followed? She loved him. That much was true. But love without dignity? She'd rather die.
That night, Quinley's sleep was restless. Time unspooled like film in her dreams—the first time she'd stood before Zachary, young and vibrant, while he sat there distant and cold as winter.
She'd spent three years trying to warm his heart. Had she succeeded? Maybe. Otherwise, why would he keep coming back? But had she been the only one? Impossible. Wasn't he still running from everything connected to Susan?
Letting go completely would free him to be with his past love, and free her from this prison.
Sometime after midnight, Quinley woke with a thought she'd never had before: she needed to leave Rosewood City. Only by leaving could she escape all this drama.
She grabbed her phone and checked every bank account. All her scattered savings added up to less than ten thousand dollars.
Quinley stared at those numbers for a long time. Leaving would take serious money. Only with enough cash could she really disappear. She wouldn't take David's money. Marrying him was already her smokescreen—that was unfair enough without bankrupting him too.
She spent the rest of the night brainstorming ways to get money, but before she could come up with anything solid, opportunity knocked on her door.
Early the next morning, someone was pounding on her door before she'd even woken up. Thinking it was David, she shuffled to the door in her slippers, only to find Lucas standing there.
"Mr. Murphy, what brings you here?"
Lucas looked furious, like he had a bone to pick with her. "Ms. Elikin, you've really hurt Mr. Jennings this time. Don't you know how he feels about you? For your sake, he burned bridges with the Davis Group. For you, he broke off his engagement with Ms. Davis. Do you have any idea what position Mr. Jennings is in now? The whole world is against him, and you won't even stand by his side?"
Lucas was here to read her the riot act. Quinley listened carefully, staying perfectly calm. "If I stood by him, would that magically solve all these problems?"
Her question caught Lucas off guard.
"Mr. Jennings went to the police station yesterday to clear your charges. Everyone doubted you, but he chose to believe. Quinley, please reconsider!" Lucas's voice rose several notches with emotion.
Quinley felt her own emotions stirring, but she wasn't about to argue with him. "Mr. Murphy, if you only came here to lecture me, sorry, but I'm not interested. Please leave."
She started to close the door, but Lucas blocked it with his hand, anger still radiating from him. "Quinley, are you really going to do this? Won't you regret it? Mr. Jennings really needs you right now."
She stared into his eyes for a long moment. She knew exactly what she was doing, and exactly what she wanted.
"I'm a person, not an object. Just because he needs me doesn't mean I have to give him what he wants. He wants me to stay, but I don't want to. Mr. Murphy, I'm engaged. What you're saying is completely out of line."
Quinley's expression hardened, clearly offended. Lucas let out a heavy sigh. He couldn't win this argument.
"Mr. Jennings asked me to give you this. Quinley, you've really disappointed me." He pulled an envelope from his pocket and held it out.
Quinley didn't take it. Lucas dropped his hand, letting the envelope fall to the floor, then turned and strode toward the elevator.
Disappointed? Everyone seemed to think they had the right to say that to Quinley. But why should they have expectations of her in the first place? And why shouldn't she be allowed to disappoint them? Just because he was rich and powerful? Just because she was nobody special?
Anger flared in Quinley's chest. She left the envelope where it fell.
An hour later, David arrived. He was dressed to the nines—full suit and tie, looking incredibly formal. The first thing he noticed was the envelope on the floor.
"Quinny, what's this?" David picked it up and started to open it before Quinley could stop him. A document and a gold card scattered across the floor.