Eliana POV:
I clutched the package to my chest. "From now on," I told the courier, my gaze locked with Jax's, "all my correspondence is to be delivered only to me. My emergency contacts are being updated."
Jax's confident smirk faltered, a flicker of confusion clouding his features.
"Did my documents arrive?" he asked. "The lease for our place near the university? In Chicago?"
"No," I said, keeping my voice perfectly even.
Before he could press me further, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, and his entire demeanor shifted. The suspicion in his eyes vanished, replaced by that infuriatingly tender concern. It was Catalina.
"I'll be right there," he said into the phone, his voice low and soothing.
Another manufactured emergency, another damsel in distress.
He ended the call and looked at me, his mind already across town with her. He'd already forgotten about the package, about our conversation.
He turned and walked to his car without another word, peeling out of the driveway to save her one more time.
I walked into my home, and for the first time in months, a profound sense of peace washed over me.
He had made his choice, over and over again. Now, I had finally made mine.
Days later, I started packing. I folded sweaters and stacked books, each item a small step toward my new life.
His retaliation was swift and public. He flooded social media with pictures of him and Catalina. A curated performance for the Outfit's younger generation. Jax and Catalina at a gala. Jax and Catalina on his boat. Jax and Catalina kissing under the city lights.
The comments were a fresh torrent of humiliation.
"He definitely upgraded."
"Guess the princess couldn't hold onto her prince."
"She's so much hotter than Lia."
I read each comment, not with the sharp sting of pain, but with a distant, heavy numbness. It was like watching a movie about someone else's life.
This was the final confirmation. My love for him wasn't just dead.
It was buried, and the ground had been salted, ensuring nothing would ever grow there again.