The impact startled him, his head snapping to the side. He stumbled back, his eyes wide in shock, before anger replaced his surprise. He steadied himself, rubbing his cheek, then laughed bitterly. "Emily," he said, his voice a venomous whisper. "Don't you dare. I'm giving you a way out here—don't be ungrateful."
The word "ungrateful" hung in the air and in that instant, something snapped inside me. I raised my hand and slapped him again, this time across his other cheek. My palm stung, but the satisfaction was worth it. "No, Leon, you're the ungrateful one. Keep your so-called ‘way out' for yourself. We're over."
For a moment, Leon stared at me, bewildered, his eyes narrowing as if he were trying to decipher if I was serious. But his smirk soon returned, twisting his features into something ugly, bitter. "Oh, so you're serious this time? Playing the same game again, huh, Emily?"
I didn't respond. My heart felt as if it were tearing apart, but I didn't let it show. I turned away, feeling a strange sense of release and walked out, leaving him standing in the mess of shattered memories and broken frames.