Chapter 4

Tears streamed down Jessica's cheeks, splashing heavily onto the floor.

"They called me, screaming that I forgot where I came from the moment I got a man! They called me an ungrateful traitor!"

She sobbed so hard she could barely catch her breath.

"I couldn't take it anymore! I just went back to tell them off, to beg them to stop pushing me!"

"And then?"

"And then they locked me in!"

She wiped at her face.

"They locked the door, took my phone, and forced me to call you for money! I didn't want to, Ryan, please believe me!"

"Enough."

I walked over to the closet, pulled out her shoes, and set them by the door.

"Get out."

Jessica stood frozen in the middle of the living room, the chandelier highlighting the tear tracks down her cheeks.

"Ryan, are we really going to end it like this?"

"Leave."

"Six years! How can you be so heartless?"

I snatched her designer purse and went through its contents.

Two keys: one for this apartment, one for her parents' old place.

I unhooked our apartment key and handed the bag back to her.

"All your personal belongings are in there. I'm keeping the key to this place."

"Ryan!"

She screamed.

"What is wrong with you? Do you have someone else? Or do you just regret spending that million dollars? Tell me the truth!"

"I'm tired."

I pulled the door open.

"Out."

Jessica stood on the threshold, tears spilling over once more.

"I didn't lie to you, Ryan. I swear I didn't."

"What do I have to do to make you believe me? I'll do anything! Please don't throw me out!"

The hallway motion-sensor light clicked off, plunging her silhouette into shadows.

"I'm saying this one last time."

I gripped the handle.

"Get out."

Slowly, she bent down, slipped on her shoes, clutched her purse, and stepped into the dim hallway.

I shut the door.

The deadbolt clicked into place, and the apartment plunged into total silence.

Tossing and turning in bed, sleep felt impossible. Memories from the past six years flashed through my mind like a movie reel.

She used to tell me her family was struggling, but that she would work hard so I wouldn't have to worry.

Then she started crying, saying her parents demanded money, that her brother needed tuition.

My heart had softened, and I gave her the first sum: three thousand dollars.

Then the second: eight thousand.

Then fifteen thousand.

Bigger amounts, closer together.

I had genuinely believed she was the victim. I thought her toxic family was bleeding her dry.

Only now did I realize that perhaps from the very beginning, she had been the one pulling the strings.

At 7:30 AM, I was supposed to be getting dressed up to pick up my bride.

Instead, I splashed cold water on my face, threw on regular clothes, and messaged the hotel banquet manager that I was coming to cancel the reservation.

As I walked out, I glanced at the pile of cash envelopes on the coffee table. Today was supposed to be the most celebratory day of my life.

Instead, it was dead quiet.

The hotel lobby was fairly empty. The receptionist recognized me immediately from my previous visits.

"Good morning, Mr. Miller!"

She beamed warmly.

"The reception is scheduled for noon today, right? Everything is set up. Would you like to check out the ballroom first?"

"No need."

I slid the deposit receipt across the counter.

"The wedding is canceled. Please process the refund."

The girl's smile froze. "Canceled? Do you mean rescheduled?"

"Canceled permanently."

She parted her lips, swallowed her questions, and quietly began processing the paperwork.

I waited by the desk, scanning the lobby absently.

When the elevator doors dinged open, a wave of icy shock washed over me.

Jessica walked out.

Right behind her were her father and mother.

The three of them were smiling and chatting. Jessica had her arm looped warmly around her mother's, a sweet, radiant grin on her face.

"Don't worry, Mom, Ryan is so easy to manipulate."

Jessica's voice drifted clearly across the quiet lobby right into my ears.

"He talks tough, but deep down, he's a total pushover. We've been together six years—nobody knows him better than I do."

Her mother patted her hand lovingly. "Are you sure he'll pay? Didn't he say it was over last night?"

"He's pulled that stunt plenty of times."

Jessica sneered dismissively.

"Last time I threatened to break up with him, he stood outside my office for three hours in the freezing cold with a massive bouquet of roses. He can't survive without me."

Her dad chimed in from behind, "When is that five hundred thousand hitting the account? Leo is waiting to renovate his new place."

"Dad, relax," Jessica laughed.

"I gave him six years of my youth. Of course he's going to pay. Once I play nice for a couple of days, that money will be wired right into our accounts."

Her mother nodded with satisfaction. "That's my girl. Smart and capable."

"Of course," Jessica lifted her chin proudly.

"Look whose daughter I am."

The three of them strolled cheerfully toward the lobby cafe. Her dad was carrying a glossy shopping bag from a high-end luxury jewelry boutique.

I pulled out my phone and hit record.

Through the lens, Jessica walked hand-in-hand with her mother while her father followed proudly—a picture-perfect, loving family.

The exact opposite of the "toxic, abusive parents" and "leech of a brother" she had cried to me about for years.

I stepped forward and stopped right in front of their table.

"Jessica."