Margot’s eyes widened in panic.
“No! You can’t!” she shrieked.
She lunged forward, this time snatching the phone from my hand.
Before I could stop her, she deleted the post and, in one fluid motion, dunked my phone into a glass of water. I watched the screen flicker and die.
“Are you happy now?” I asked through gritted teeth.
She crossed her arms. “You want to break up? Fine. But what about all the time, effort, and money I’ve spent on you? Are you just going to walk away and leave me empty-handed?”
Her entitlement made me laugh—not out of humor, but in sheer disbelief.
“You’ve spent on me?” I shot back. “Margot, I took you from a nobody to the Best Actress. Or have you conveniently forgotten about that?”
Her confident demeanor faltered for a second before she scoffed. “That was all my hard work. What does that have to do with you?”
“Fine,” I said, my voice steady. I reached for a box and a small bank card and placed them on the table in front of her.
“These are everything you gave me. I haven’t touched a thing. The money you spent on me? I sold what I could and returned it all here. Down to the penny.”
I straightened up, looking her dead in the eye. “We’re even, Margot. You owe me nothing. I owe you nothing.”
For the first time, Margot didn’t have a sharp comeback. Her eyes flickered with something—maybe regret, maybe anger—but she quickly masked it with a forced smile.
“You’re going to throw it all away,” she said with a sigh, almost like she pitied me. “I was even planning to introduce you to Alfred Schumann, the renowned pianist. But now? Well, you’ve made things difficult for yourself.”
She leaned back, arms crossed, waiting for me to beg.
But I didn’t. Instead, I shrugged and said, “We’ve broken up. There’s nothing difficult about it. Take Steven instead.”
Her smug expression faltered. The composure she prided herself on cracked, but she quickly changed tactics.
Margot leaned closer and coyly said, “Frank, come to the party with me. Alfred will be there. I’ve already smoothed things over for you, and I’ll publicly clear up everything about our relationship after. I’ll agree to the breakup—on good terms.”
I studied her face, trying to gauge if she was being sincere. But she clung to my arm, whining and pleading with me until I reluctantly nodded.
“Fine,” I said. “One last time. Let’s end this civilly.”
...