Page 57 of Breakup Games

“Mira,” Cory presses.

“No, sorry. My name is Mya.”

Cory lets out a snort of laughter and takes a big gulp of his beer. “Don’t fucking play games with me.” He slams the glass on the bar top. “That’s what she does, you know. She pretends to be people she’s not and fucks up relationships. Mira fucking Martin is her name. Look her up. She’s famous and thinks she’s better than everyone else! She hates men and teaches women to not need us.”

“I have no idea what he’s talking about,” I say to Enzo. It’s so loud in here I don’t think Mason can hear anything. “He’s drunk and thinks I’m someone else.”

“She’s my ex-wife,” Cory blubbers on. “Mer-rah.”

Enzo’s eyes narrow, looking from Cory to me again.

“I can prove it!” Cory goes on and tries to get his phone from his pocket. He’s drunk and fumbles, dropping it onto the ground.

“Let’s get out of here,” I say, feeling all shaky. It’s so easy to slip back to scared, powerless Mira around Cory. I know he’s the weak one. He’s the one who has already lost everything and is so unhappy and miserable with himself that he has to project it onto me.

I curl my toes and press them against the sole of my shoes. Cory is a small, small man. He is a true sociopath and will never be happy without taking happiness from someone else. I get hit with another memory of him screaming at me, saying our big, fancy house was going to be mistaken for a trailer because I had mismatching towels in the powdered room.

I didn’t know better then and engaged in an argument, saying that there was nothing wrong with living in a trailer to start with and that if anyone comes into our near million dollar home and gets confused over mismatching towels to the point where they think they’re suddenly in a trailer, that’s on them.

He pulled the towels off the towel rack and whipped them at me. The corner of one hit me right in the eye and it hurt like crazy. But I was a baby, I was dramatic and a liar when my eye swelled up. Because it wasjust a little piece of cloththat hit me and it wouldn’t hurt that bad. No, I faked it all, even though I documented photos of the progression of how my eye got pretty fucking bad.

Cory snuck onto my phone the next week and deleted all the photos. He had done the same when he pushed me over while I was doing yoga, causing me to face plant off my yoga mat onto a wooden floor.

But I fell. I lost my balance and fell. It was my fault. It wasn’t his, even though he was the one who shoved my foot off the side of the couch, where I had my toes resting to help me keep balance.

“Fuck you,” I say to Cory. “Leave me alone.”

He shoots back an insult but his words are lost over the music. I turn back to Enzo and put my hand on his waist. “Your place is nearby, right?”

I regret it as soon as the words leave my mouth but I need to get out of here, away from Cory not just because I can’t fucking stand the loser, but because he’s just a few seconds away from showing Enzo our wedding photos or pulling up my social media accounts.

Mason says something, but it’s too loud to hear. I bring my hand up, putting my finger to my ear to try and muffle the sounds of the bar. Someone bumps me, and I accidentally catch my nail on the earpiece. It goes flying and my eyes widen. My first thought isfuck, if Enzo sees we’re done.And then I realize I won’t be able to hear any of Mason’s instructions anymore.

I stand frozen for what feels like minutes but is only a few seconds. Enzo throws a couple twenties on the bar and slides his hand around me as the crowd claps and cheers as the first song ends.

“What happened to the other guy I saw you with?” Cory continues, finally getting his phone from the ground. He leans in, trying to taunt me, and I smell it: the same aftershave Enzo is wearing. Oh my god. It wasn’t Enzo outside in the courtyard a few weeks ago.

It was Cory. He’s been stalking me—again.

Chapter

Thirty-Two

MASON

“Mira, Mira. Talk to me.” I suck in my breath and wait. It’s too fucking loud in the bar and everything inside of me is telling me to get her out. Something is off and she isn’t safe.

“We should get eyes on them,” Diego says, flipping through different cameras. “They went into a bar that had a long line to get in. Some band is playing tonight.”

“Yeah, I can hear.”

“I’ll move us closer,” Evan says and I try calling Mira’s name again. A bad feeling rises inside me with each and every passing second that I don’t hear from her.

“It’s too fucking loud,” Diego says and takes his headset off. “Do you think he brought her in on purpose?”

I shake my head as I inhale. “No, it didn’t seem planned. Mira brought up going in.” I regret not telling her to avoid loud bars like this because it makes it impossible to listen and for her to hear me. Evan drives us around the block, getting closer. I drum my fingers on the computer in front of me, waiting.

A song plays and ends and the sound of clapping and cheering comes through my headset. “Mira,” I try again. “Can you hear me?”

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