"Willow, when I first saw you, you were busing tables in the cafeteria. You really think I could tell my friends I was into the lunch lady?"
"And if I'd walked up as who I actually am? You and your pride—you would've turned me down on the spot."
"I lowered myself for you, Willow. The least you could do is be grateful."
"You have no idea how hard it was to choke down those disgusting street-stall meals and the spinach noodles you made."
"I ate every bite. Because you liked them."
So everything I'd treasured as romance was just something he'd forced himself to stomach.
"What am I to you, Drew?"
"A toy? Entertainment for you and your friends?"
He grabbed my wrist hard enough that I couldn't pull free.
"Don't say that about yourself. Seven years, Willow—you really can't tell that I meant it?"
Real. Nothing about it was real. All of it was a lie.
"If it's real, then break off your engagement with the Hardings. Marry me."
His hand went rigid. His eyes turned cold.
"Willow, why can't we just leave things the way they are? I'll give you money. Nothing has to change."