Zayne’s POV
Three days later.
Isabella has been relentless with her messages for the past three days. And that was also how long I ignored her. My phone buzzed again on the desk beside me. Another message, I didn’t even need to look to know who it was.
Good morning, Zayne.
We need to talk.
You can’t keep running from this.
Do you hate me that much?
I sighed, dragging a hand down my face before finally picking up the phone.
Forty-two unread messages. Forty-two! All from her.
Some apologies. Some emotional. Some manipulative enough that I could practically hear her voice dripping through the screen. And sprinkled between them were the ones that actually mattered.
Does Isla finally know?
About us?
My jaw tightened. I typed slowly.
Pick a public place.
The typing bubble appeared
