Page 54 of With This Mask

There is no caption.

And of course the comments are going wild with speculation.

What does it mean?

Where is Mariposa?

Who broke him?

Some of the comments are… savage.

But they’re right.

I broke up with him. The words echo in my mind, bouncing around like a pinball that hits every sore spot in my heart. Hell, it was the most twisted thing I've ever had to do, and it scrapes against my insides because I didn't want it. Not at all.

My cheeks are slick with tears, the salty evidence of this shit-show of a situation. Each drop is a testament to the heaviness in my chest, a weight that's been crushing me since the moment I walked away from him. It was supposed to protect him, shield him from his father's wrath. It was to protect my mother from losing her house. But who protects me from this ache?

"Damn it," I mutter, swiping at my face. The tears have to stop. With a shaky breath, I click the screen off and toss it to the end of the bed. Enough self-pity. Enough wallowing. I've got an exam to ace and a future to secure — no time for crying over rich boys with wicked tongues and razor-sharp minds.

I stand, forcing my legs to hold steady beneath me. They're about as reliable as my resolve right now, but I can't afford to crumble. Not when I've come this far on sheer grit and caffeine. I snatch a tissue, dabbing at my eyes until they're only faintly red, remnants of the storm that passed through.

"Get your shit together, Winters," I tell my reflection in the mirror. My brown eyes stare back, defiant even with the puffiness around the edges. There's a spark there, the same one that's gotten me through every other challenge — from growing up in a home where luxury meant having enough food for dinner, to landing a scholarship among these pampered peacocks at Westcroft.

"Alright, Salem," I continue, my voice steadier now. "School. You can handle this."

My phone buzzes as I walk to class, the January air biting at my cheeks. Alec's name flashes on the screen.

Please, can we talk?

Tears spring to my eyes, blurring the sidewalk in front of me. I blink them back furiously. I can't do this right now. Can't face him and pretend like I meant all those terrible things I said yesterday. My thumb hovers over the screen, aching to respond. To tell him I'm sorry, that I didn't mean any of it.

But I can't. I can’t risk his father following through on his threats. Can’t risk my mother’s home. Can’t risk Alec’s company. Everything depends on me staying strong, even if it kills me inside. I shove the phone back into my pocket without replying and hurry across campus.

I slip into the lecture hall just as class is starting, my hands still shaking. The professor drones on about derivatives but I barely hear a word, Alec's pained expression haunting my thoughts. Fuck, why did his father have to ruin everything? We were so happy. So right together. And now...

My phone vibrates again, making me jump. Under the desk, I peek at the message with a hammering pulse.

I know this isn't what you want. Please, Salem, I'm begging you. Talk to me.

A shaky breath breaks free from my lips and I quickly muffle it with my sleeve. Heads turn in my direction, but I keep my eyes glued to my blank notebook page, vision swimming. I want nothing more than to run to him, to fall into his strong arms and confess the truth. But I can't put him at risk like that. Can't jeopardize his future and his company, as much as it's destroying me.

I leave his text unanswered and dig my nails into my palms, desperately holding back the flood of emotions threatening to burst out of me. I have to be strong. Have to protect him, even if he hates me for it. Even if I hate myself.

The minutes tick by in agonizing slowness, the lecture fading into meaningless background noise as silent tears drip onto my empty notes. Just get through today, I tell myself. One hour at a time. One breath after another.

But the ache in my chest only sharpens, raw and relentless. Because deep down, I know this isn't some temporary hurdle.

I can’t have him. Because of that evil asshole, William Vanderholt. Because I’m just not fucking good enough.

At lunchtime, I purposefully avoid the courtyard where I know Alec always sits with his friends. Instead, I find a quiet corner inside, tucked away from prying eyes. But even from here, I can't help stealing glances at him through the window.

He looks miserable, his normally bright eyes dull and rimmed with dark circles. The easy smile that used to make my heart flutter is nowhere to be seen. Guilt twists like a knife in my gut. I did this to him. Shattered his heart and mine in the process.

"Hey, Salem, what the hell is going on?”

I startle at Isabella's concerned voice, hastily wiping at my cheeks, unsure if there are tears or not. But it's too late. She’s standing right in front of me, her brows furrowed with concern.

"Nothing, I'm fine," I mumble, the lie burning my tongue. Isabella frowns, green eyes narrowing.