"Quinn, Simon's someone I tossed aside. If you fancy him, go ahead and keep him."
Clara flagged down a cab with effortless ease.
Quinn's defenses crumbled at those words. "You must be kidding, Clara. You spent all those years chasing Simon and making a fool of yourself, and now you’re acting like you dumped him? He just wasn’t into you. Simon told me in bed he never even kissed you. How do you have zero charm?"
Clara’s hand rested on the cab door, and she chuckled softly. "If a girl's charm is measured by how often she’s been with someone, then wouldn’t those hookers be the most charming?"
Her words, though indirect, struck Quinn like a dagger. Quinn’s face turned ghostly pale, and her most vulnerable spots were exposed.
"You!"
She raised her hand to slap Clara, but Clara caught her wrist with a firm grip.
Clara looked at Quinn’s furious face with calm and unreadable eyes. The more composed Clara remained, the more flustered Quinn appeared.
Clara released Quinn’s hand. "I already said you could have Simon, but you seem unsatisfied. Do you truly like Simon, or do you just enjoy taking what’s mine?"
Quinn’s face turned even whiter, her lips pressed into a thin line.
Clara, tired of the exchange, got into the cab and told the driver to go.
Quinn stood there, shaking with rage. ‘Clara must’ve been pretending; there was no way she didn’t care about Simon. She'll probably find a quiet spot to cry later, just like before,’ Quinn thought, feeling a bit better.
Just then, Simon called her. "Quinn, where are you? Are you here yet?"
Quinn’s eyes filled with tears. "I just ran into my sister. We exchanged a few words, but I'm fine. I’ll be there soon."
Hearing the tremor in her voice, Simon grew anxious. "What did Clara do this time? She’s so awful!"
"Simon, I’ll be there in ten minutes. Please don’t fight with my sister; it’ll only make things worse for me."
"You’re too kind-hearted. Never mind, just come over. Don’t let her ruin your mood."
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