I didn’t need to see the name on the screen to know.
“Oooh, Zayn,” Melinda’s voice whined through the speaker, laced with mock vulnerability. “I just finished receiving my award and was about to go celebrate, but… but these drunk men—they tried to grab me! I’m so scared…”
Zayn’s entire demeanor shifted. His pupils narrowed, his expression darkened with rage.
“Those bastards,” he growled. “Don’t worry, Melinda, I’ll come right now.”
Her voice wavered, tinged with poorly hidden amusement. “But… Zayn, what about Xandra? I don’t want to cause trouble for you.”
His jaw tightened, his voice sharp and decisive. “She wouldn’t dare stop me. And if she tries, I’ll break her other leg too.”
He hung up the phone and immediately turned to me, his face softening again as though he hadn’t just issued that cruel declaration.
“Xandra, don’t misunderstand,” he said, his tone almost patronizing. “Melinda’s a delicate girl. If I hadn’t said that, she wouldn’t let me leave.”
“You stay here and rest. I’ll take you to the hospital as soon as I’ve sorted things out for her.”
I wasn’t surprised by his choice. I’d stopped being surprised a long time ago. No matter what promises he made to me, once Melinda appeared, I would always be the one pushed aside. Every single time. My heart felt hollow, as though it had been carved out with a blade and left to bleed. I watched him turn to leave, his determination unwavering.
“Zayn,” I called out, my voice a whisper.
He stopped in his tracks, but when he turned to face me, his expression was already laced with irritation.
"Xandra! Didn’t I tell you already? Melinda was stopped by a drunkard and is in danger!"
Zayn’s voice was filled with self-righteous anger.
"You’re a woman too. Don’t you understand how scared she must be in a situation like this? And yet, to take care of your emotions, she’s trying not to trouble me! Why can’t you be kinder to her?"
His words struck me like shards of glass, sharp and cruel. My chest burned with a thousand tangled emotions—anger, betrayal, heartbreak. I didn’t know whether to cry or laugh.
As Zayn continued to rant, utterly oblivious to my pain, I forced myself to move. Ignoring the searing agony in my broken leg, I crawled toward him. Every inch forward felt like an eternity, but I didn’t stop. Finally, I reached his side and yanked his bag open.