That night on the balcony, at that Christmas party, I took one look at Mal and knew with certainty what he’d said was true.

Loving someone is willingly accepting that they can destroy you.

Mal ruined me.

I wrecked Callum.

I think you were put on this Earth to destroy me, Callum said all those months ago.

Was that the truth, or did Callum simply want to be destroyed?

“I wanted to play the stupid game so I could see how you’d react. You didn’t care when I snogged that cow over there.” He points sideways to where we were, in the presidential suite.

I flinch at his offhanded insult. The doors slide shut, and we begin to ride down to his room.

“But when Mal kissed that bird, you almost exploded. Then you went and continued kissing him long after Richards withdrew.”

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, cursing Summer inwardly for creating all this mess, even though I know I’m more responsible for it than anyone else. “God, Callum, I never meant to hurt you.”

Even I know how lame I sound. I wish I could turn back time.

I’d change one thing and one thing only—I wouldn’t have touched Mal before I broke up with Cal.

The elevator dings, and Callum steps outside and turns to face me.

“By the way, if you’d waited just a little longer, you could have broken my heart and my bank account, walking away with half my shit.” He shoves his hand into his front pocket, produces a small, velvety black box, and throws it at me. I catch it, but don’t open it, already aware of what must be sitting there.

God, Callum.

“I bought another one in London, because the first one was left in that godforsaken dumpster in Ireland, and I wanted to propose as soon as possible.” He stops, looks down. “But not soon enough, apparently.”

My eyes are full of tears. My head hurts. I’m losing it. I’m breaking apart, and suddenly, all I want to do is make him feel better, no matter the cost. I take a step toward him, but he shakes his head. He punches the button to call the elevator when the doors begin to close, not quite done hurting me.

“This is the line.” He juts his chin to the threshold between the elevator and the corridor. “You don’t get to pass it anymore. We’re done here, Rory. We’ve been done from the beginning. I was always temporary, a starter to pass the time until the entrée arrived.”

I fall to my knees, letting out a sob.

He slings the camera into the elevator, and it lands next to me.

“You’re always so obsessed with taking the perfect picture. Well, I took photos of your little threesome. That’ll keep your slimy boss happy. You’re welcome.”