Love Rents A Room
Chapter 77: An Awkward Situation

Chapter 77: An Awkward Situation

Joanne stood frozen, her nails digging painfully into her palms. Anything to keep from crying.

No.

She wouldn’t cry. Not here. Not in front of them.

The weight of betrayal pressed against her chest, suffocating. Yes, she had planned to break up with Jonathan, but must he do this now? Here, in public, where anyone could see?

How long had they been kissing?

It felt like an eternity.

Her insides twisted—not just from heartbreak, but from shame. And that part confused her the most. Why should I feel ashamed? She had done nothing wrong. She had come here to do the right thing, to end things properly.

Just like she had wanted to with Jeffrey Winchester.

But he had vanished before she could even open her mouth.

Why do men always run from me when I try to do the right thing?

Was she that despicable? Was she so unworthy that they couldn’t wait to be rid of her?

Why was history so cruelly repeating itself?

After what felt like a lifetime, Jonathan finally pulled away from Valerie, though his hand lingered on her chin, his gaze locked onto hers.

Joanne clenched her jaw, squared her shoulders, and took a step forward.

Then another.

And another.

She wouldn’t stand there like a fool, letting this moment stretch any longer than it already had.

Clearing her throat, she forced her voice into a crisp, polite tone, the kind she reserved for indifferent goodbyes. "So..." She exhaled sharply, an empty smile curling her lips. "I was hoping to do this properly, but—" she gestured vaguely between them, "—you’ve certainly made it easier. So, thank you, Jonathan."

Valerie was the first to react. She stiffened, stepping back as if bracing for a storm. Joanne had expected a victorious smirk or a mocking sneer, but instead, Valerie pressed her lips together and looked away.

Ashamed?

She should be.

Jonathan turned slowly, his expression unreadable, but then—he bowed his head. He ran a hand over his face and shook his head, as if he couldn’t even look at her.

Yeah, feel ashamed, you bastards.

Joanne’s smile sharpened. "And you too, Ms. Porter. I sincerely wish you the best. You’ll need it." She tilted her head. "After all, you’re far more in need of a husband than I am. Nearing forty. Divorced."

Valerie’s face paled.

"Joanne..." Jonathan started, his voice taut.

Her gaze snapped to him, and the words died on his tongue. He swallowed thickly, averting his eyes.

Joanne huffed a laugh, her chin lifting higher. "Don’t worry about me, really. I’m not even thirty. I even rejected Jeffrey fucking Winchester in the past. I can certainly do better than you, Mr. Meyer."

"Joanne, listen to me—"

"Goodbye, Mr. Meyer," she cut him off coldly. "I hope to never see your face again."

She turned on her heel.

She was done.

Jonathan’s hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around her wrist.

"Jo—"

Joanne wrenched free, fire blazing in her eyes. "Fucking let go, you son of a—" She clenched her teeth, her breath shaking.

Jonathan hesitated, and for a fleeting moment, she saw it—the guilt, the regret pooling in his eyes. His lips parted, voice raw.

"I’m sorry... You deserve better, Joanne Smith."

Her throat tightened, but she refused to let it show.

She lifted her chin, biting back the lump in her throat. "Yeah," she said through gritted teeth. "I fucking know that."

And without sparing him another glance, she walked away—head held high, back unyielding.

She never looked back.

-----

Nina checked her phone screen for the third time, making absolutely sure she had recorded the entire thing. Every word. Every reaction. Every delicious second of Joanne Smith’s humiliation.

What had she just stumbled upon? Was this what people meant by having Lady Luck on their side?

Because this?

This was the motherlode of gossip.

Her fingers twitched with excitement as she skimmed through the footage. Jeffrey Winchester? Seriously? Did Joanne really say she had rejected Jeffrey Winchester?

Oh, please.

Everyone in town knew the Winchesters were familiar with Joanne, but this? This was delusional. And if Joanne actually had the nerve to reject someone like him, then maybe she truly was cursed to die an old spinster.

A smug grin spread across Nina’s face. She had gold in her hands. She almost hit post right then and there, but—no.

She could make it better.

A little editing, a little trimming, and this could be a masterpiece.

A viral masterpiece!

She wanted the world to see Joanne for what she truly was—a cold, manipulative, heartless bitch.

Even after catching her boyfriend full-on making out with another woman, Joanne didn’t flinch. Didn’t scream. Didn’t fight. If she really loved Jonathan, wouldn’t she have at least slapped him? Yanked Valerie Porter by the hair? Caused a scene like any woman with a heart should?

But no.

Instead, Joanne had just stood there, smug, bragging about rejecting Jeffrey Winchester—like that was the real priority here.

Unbelievable.

Joanne Smith deserved everything that was coming for her.

And Nina would gladly make sure of it.

-----

Joanne let the cool breeze wash over her, willing it to carry away the ache tightening in her chest. She blinked against the sting in her eyes, refusing—absolutely refusing—to let a single tear fall.

Not here. Not in front of them.

She needed to get this over with. Do what she came here to do and leave. She couldn’t bear to be around these people any longer. She needed space. Needed to be alone—to break down in the privacy of her own sorrow.

"Jo!"

That sweet, expectant voice cut through her swirling thoughts like a warm blade.

Then, arms around her waist.

A familiar scent. A familiar warmth.

Charlotte.

Joanne froze, the raw wound in her heart burning anew. What do I do? Just minutes ago, her father had shattered her—and now she was supposed to stand here and smile? Pretend she wasn’t falling apart inside?

Charlotte tilted her head up, her hands still wrapped around Joanne’s waist, her bright eyes full of happiness. Oblivious to the wreckage left in her father’s wake.

"I thought you wouldn’t come! Why are you so late?"