Chapter 2

Dead silence fell over the line.

About ten seconds later, a man's gruff voice cut through the phone—her father.

"Tell him four hundred thousand works too! Stop wasting time in the middle of the night!"

Then her mother's shrill voice chimed in:

"Exactly! Talk to him, four hundred thousand is plenty!"

Jessica didn't answer them.

"It doesn't matter how much it is," Jessica suddenly whispered into the phone.

"None of it has anything to do with him anymore."

Click. The call disconnected.

I tossed my phone onto the passenger seat. It skidded across the leather cushion and landed face down.

The car's heater was still blasting, making my face feel uncomfortably hot.

I shut off the heat and rolled down the window.

A blast of cold, dry late-autumn air rushed in. I took a deep breath, my eyes stinging slightly.

The pain I had felt for her in the past had been real.

The hatred I felt right now was just as real.

When she told me her family was a bottomless pit, I believed her.

When she told me her parents favored her brother, never gave her a cent, and only treated her as an ATM, I believed her.

When she said she wanted to sever ties, I did everything in my power to buy her out.

One million dollars.

It took me three full years of relentless grinding to save that up.

During those three years, I worked late into the night every single day, took on freelance gigs every weekend, and didn't even dare tell her when I was hospitalized for stomach bleeding.

I genuinely thought that once she had that signed agreement, she would be free.

She would belong only to our future.

How ridiculously naive.

To ensure her parents would never bother us, I bought a new place in an upscale gated community and moved her in.

Only the two of us had the keys. Even my own parents hadn't visited yet.

No one else knew the address.

I thought it was our sanctuary.

Yet tonight, of all nights, she was sitting right there in that old house.

Nobody broke in. Nobody forced her.

She had walked back there entirely on her own.

All along the drive, one question kept haunting me: When did she go back?

This morning?

Or last night?

Maybe she had never truly left in the first place.

From the very beginning, this had been an elaborate scam crafted just for me.

The car radio suddenly clicked on, playing a late-night relationship talk show. The host's gentle voice murmured through the speakers:

"Love requires mutual trust..."

I reached out and shut it off.

The world fell silent again, save for the low hum of the engine.

I started the car, made a U-turn, and headed home.

In the rearview mirror, the streetlights blurred into streaks of light behind me.

It was nearly one in the morning when I walked through the front door.

The living room lights were on. Near the entryway sat two large gift bags filled with cash envelopes prepared for tomorrow's wedding banquet.

I crouched down and opened a few. Each held crisp bills, tucked neatly inside.

On the coffee table sat wedding favors wrapped in pastel pink paper. She had picked them out herself.

She said pink looked youthful and would look stunning in photos.

I picked up a piece of candy, squeezed it between my fingers, and tossed it back.

My phone rang. It was my mom.

"Ryan, sweetie, what time are you heading over to pick up the bride tomorrow? Your dad already got the celebratory sparklers, and your uncle drove all the way from out of town..."

"Mom, the wedding is off."