After leaving the cafe, Aspen stepped into the restroom. She splashed a few handfuls of icy water on her face, trying to calm the storm inside her.
She said, "Mr. Garner, could you do me a favor and not tell Andrew about what just happened?"
Dylan leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, and chuckled. "Ms. Aspen, you really gave her a piece of your mind. If it felt good, why not let Mr. Lloyd know?"
Aspen's expression darkened with self-mockery. "Because I didn't stand up for myself—I used Andrew's name to intimidate her. Christina was right about one thing—I am pathetic.
"Andrew nearly destroyed my family, and yet here I am, throwing his name around like it means something. Even worse, I shamelessly implied I'd offer myself to him!"
Dylan smirked. "So you're ashamed of yourself? You think less of yourself now?"
Aspen stared at her reflection. Her face was as cold as ever, but her eyes no longer held their usual arrogance. Instead, they were clouded with something unreadable.
For a moment, she barely recognized herself. The woman in the mirror was a stranger, utterly changed from who she used to be, and all of it was because of Andrew.
She was supposed to stay by Andrew's side with hatred and anger, biding her time for revenge. Yet now, she realized she could not summon even a shred of resentment toward him.
Instead, she sometimes felt something else entirely–an inexplicable urge. Like earlier, in the room, she overheard the sounds of Andrew and Natasha being intimate outside the door.
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