Part 2Negative Exposure

It took several deep breaths to calm down.

Undeniably, Damien had a rough childhood. But why did that mean I had to sacrifice my dignity to fix him?

I wasn't an NPC in someone else's redemption arc. I had my own life.

If they wanted a doormat for a heroine, they could find someone else.

After washing up, I realized Damien’s laptop was still on my desk. My MacBook had crashed a few days ago, and I needed his to finish my thesis.

Now that the paper was done, I didn't want any lingering ties.

I hesitated, then texted him: [When can I drop off your laptop?]

A bright red exclamation mark appeared next to the message. Message Not Delivered.

He blocked me.

I stared at the screen for a few seconds, then tossed the phone aside.

I was numb to it. This was his pattern. Every argument ended with him blocking me on everything, initiating a cold war until I crawled back, apologizing profusely. Only then would he "reluctantly" forgive me.

[Zoe! He only blocked you because he's hurt! He's waiting for you to come find him in person to make up!]

[I don't get this FL's logic.]

[Exactly. She dumped him, of course he blocked her. If she doesn't run to him now, she’s gonna regret it when he actually moves on.]

I ignored the twisted logic of the Chat, pulled the covers over my head, and went to sleep.

The next morning, I had one class.

While picking an outfit, my eyes drifted to a sage green slip dress tucked in the corner of my closet.

My mom bought it for my 21st birthday. I’d worn it exactly once.

On my birthday, Damien saw me in it and exploded.

He threw the bouquet he brought onto the pavement. My cake didn't survive either.

His brows furrowed in disgust. "Zoe, you look hideous in that."

"It doesn't suit you. You look like you work a street corner. Change it, or we’re breaking up."

He walked away, leaving me standing there while bystanders snickered. I wanted to disappear.

Since then, I only wore oversized tees and jeans. I learned he hated me in anything pretty.

But I was twenty-one. This was my prime.

I grabbed the dress.

I put it on, did my hair, and applied light makeup.

My roommates hype-man energy was off the charts.

"Zoe! That dress was made for you! The curves are curving!" "Respectfully, I am looking. Slay, queen." "Finally! You’re dressing up again. It was a crime to hide that face."

I smiled, thanking them.

Walking to class, heads turned. I saw genuine appreciation in people’s eyes.

See? I wasn't as awful as Damien said.