“Wow, you really did bide your time well, didn’t you,” he said with a cocky condescending grin, then the asshole began a slow dramatic clap. “Well done, Alicia. You really had me fooled. Played the long game and thought you could hook yourself a rich, famous, footballer, huh?”

“Get over yourself.” I scoffed. “You may be a footballer, but I’m the one who’s made you rich.” I was one of the top performing financial advisors from Stella Financial Management and Ethan was my client. He wasn’t about to undermine my role and the effort I put into my job.

Ethan sneered with an elitist air as he turned for the exit. “Oh, so now I owe you? This is brilliant. Next, you’re going to tell me how much you’ve fallen in love with me, right? How you can’t live without me? How I will never find another woman like you?”

Each word came out more scathing than the last, almost mocking in their deliverance. What made it worse was he didn’t even look at me while making those statements. He merely strolled down the hallway towards my front door, like we were discussing the weather.

I was struck dumb. Standing behind him, literally lost for words. That’s not how I envisioned our ‘talk’ to go down. Sure, we had a mutual agreement which was beneficial for both of us, but that was four fucking years ago.

I thought he would at least hear me out and we could discuss our future like adults. Even if that meant we would move on separately, as individuals. I knew that was a strong possibility with Ethan’s abysmal communication skills and commitment issues, but I wasn’t afraid.

Heat raised beneath my skin as red filtered into my vision, alongside those pesky tears that always threatened to make an appearance when I was overcome with emotion.

I hated that that was my body’s natural response, like my faculties were being overloaded with too much stimulus that it had no choice but to leak from my eyes. To fucking cry. Even when all I felt was frustration and anger.

And right then, I had that in abundance.

Ethan wrenched the door open and spared a glance over his shoulder. “Oh, come on, don’t start with the water works.”

I aggressively swiped the traitor tears from my cheeks, rage sweeping through me like a tsunami. I was Alicia motherfucking Thorne and I would not wallow beneath the heels of an insecure, emotionally stunted twenty-nine-year-old man-child.

So, when I opened my mouth, I let all that built up frustration sore forth to hit him square in the chest as his words played on repeat inside my head.

Next, you’re going to tell me how much you’ve fallen in love with me, right? How you can’t live without me? How I will never find another woman like you?