I clenched my teeth, fighting through the searing pain. “I’m not apologizing. I didn’t do anything wrong.”
Her voice was sharp, furious. “Fine. Have it your way.”
She hung up without another word.
...
The next day, while I was being treated at the hospital, she showed up again. But not for me and the cameras.
A crowd of fans surrounded her as she signed autographs, smiling for the paparazzi.
“Frank Carmichael and I are just close friends,” she cooed sweetly. “He’s currently composing a piano solo for my new drama. Please support him!”
I stared at her in disbelief. She glanced at me for the briefest moment, panic flashing across her face. But then she quickly looked away, refusing to meet my eyes.
When the crowd finally dispersed, Margot walked over to me, the faint smell of minty cigarettes trailing behind her. My stomach churned as she approached.
The scent hit me first—minty cigarettes.
It was unmistakable, the same brand Steven always smoked. My stomach churned, and I instinctively stumbled back a few steps, desperate to put some distance between us.