"Ellie, I know you've been through a lot. Let me go pick up something nutritious for you to make up for it."
I stopped him. "I don't want it. Can I just skip it?"
Part of me still clung to one last shred of pathetic hope—that I could reach whatever conscience he had left.
But Zachery was unwavering.
"How are you going to recover if you don't eat? I want you out of here as soon as possible. Be good."
He turned and left.
I closed my eyes.
I'd given him too much credit. Far too much.
If Zachery refused to feel an ounce of remorse, then he couldn't blame me for what came next.
I picked up my phone and dialed the number I'd saved days ago. "Hey. I need a favor..."
It was a long time before Zachery came back.
He handed me the meal. "Here, Ellie. Eat up."
"The university needs me to work late tonight, so I can't stay with you."
I knew he was rushing off to meet Gertrude at some hotel.
I said nothing about it.
"Okay. I'll finish it all. Go ahead."
Then I pulled out a document and handed it to him.
"The doctor says I need to stay for more observation. Can you sign this consent form for me?"
He didn't question it. He scrawled his name in a hurry and left, his steps practically bouncing.