Meliza's POV
I bit down hard on my tongue, forcing myself to keep it together. I wouldn't cry, not in front of him.
Not in front of the man who had already broken me once before.
It took every ounce of self-control I had to lift my head, to meet his gaze without letting him see how much his rejection cut through me like a blade.
I felt it the familiar sting of betrayal settling deep in my chest, making it harder to breathe.
I had lowered my pride and asked for his help. And I was a fool to believe, even for a second, that he would be different this time.
My fingers curled into fists at my sides, my nails digging into my palm to keep myself steady.
I had to get away from him.
I swallowed past the lump in my throat and forced my lips into a polite, practiced smile—one that felt foreign and unnatural.
"Thank you for your time," I said, my voice calm, too calm.
I prayed he wouldn't see how broken I was.