Years ago, he'd said those same words.
Back then, we were young and foolishly in love, determined to defy the world. He'd stood before me like a shield against his elite family's disapproval and declared:
"Only Alice Henson will ever be Mrs. Delgado. Anyone in Harbor City—anyone in this family—who dares disrespect her answers to me."
Time had warped that promise into a curse.
Seeing my lack of reaction, Evan tapped my cheek sharply, eyes dancing with malice. "Angry?"
He leaned closer, breath hot against my ear. "Good. I love seeing you angry. Your misery, your heartbreak, your fury—it's the only thing that brings me joy."
I met his gaze steadily. Those eyes, once so gentle, were now pools of stagnant venom. One misunderstood conversation years ago had turned him into this—fueling a campaign of torment that consumed half my life.
But what did I actually do wrong?
I offered him a calm, hollow smile.
"Why would I be angry? Don't flatter yourself, Evan. I stopped loving you a long time ago."
I stopped loving him the night of his first betrayal. The night he cast me aside for Bonnie Pruitt.