Chapter 3

"Are you okay? You look so pale."

Seeing my silence, Aurora leaned in with concern.

I snapped back to reality, took a deep breath, and forced down the rising nausea in my throat.

"I’m... I’m fine." I squeezed out a smile that probably looked worse than crying.

"I just... the name sounds familiar."

"Really?" Aurora’s eyes lit up with pride.

"He’s quite famous in the finance circle! To become a VP at his age, so many people are jealous."

"You’re in business too, so it makes sense you’ve heard of him."

Looking at her innocent, boasting face, the blood in my veins turned to ice.

How could I not have heard of him?

Christopher. The man I had loved and financially supported for seven long years.

The shy boy on the college campus who once blushed while handing me a bottle of water, unable to even look me in the eye.

The man who once cried through my phone screen when I was sick, swearing he would make it big just to treat me like a princess.

And now, he was someone else’s Christopher. He was even having a child with her?

I gripped my porcelain teacup so hard my knuckles turned white. My nails dug into my palms.

"How long... have you two been together?"

My voice sounded raspy, like sandpaper.

"Almost a year," Aurora recalled, a blush creeping onto her cheeks.

"We met at a gala."

"He was wearing a custom designer suit, looking so cold and distant. Other women tried to hit on him, but he completely ignored them."

"Then I accidentally spilled my wine on him. Instead of getting mad, he took off his jacket and put it over my shoulders so I wouldn't feel embarrassed in my stained dress."

"Don't you think that’s just fate?"

A year. I closed my eyes, my chest aching so bad I couldn't breathe.

A year ago was exactly when Christopher’s career hit a massive bottleneck. He was depressed and miserable.

Back then, worried about his stress levels, I flew to New York every single weekend to be with him.

I cooked for him, massaged his shoulders, and stayed up all night listening to him vent about work.

I even went behind his back to beg my father to hand over a multi-million-dollar, guaranteed-profit project to Christopher’s team.

That was the only reason he overcame his crisis and got promoted.

But what did he do?

During the days and nights I wasn't in New York, he wore the designer suits I bought him, playing the role of a cold, brooding billionaire at galas to charm other women.

"Look, we just took our wedding photos last week."

Aurora eagerly pushed her phone screen in front of my face.

In the photo, Christopher wore a crisp white tuxedo, wrapping his arms tenderly around Aurora from behind.

His hand rested gently on her baby bump. He was leaning down, kissing her cheek.

The look in his eyes was filled with a tenderness and devotion I had never seen before.

In our seven years together, Christopher rarely took photos.

He always claimed he wasn't photogenic, saying it was too cheesy for men to take photos all the time.

We didn't even have a decent couple's photo.

The only one we had was one I forced him to take at our college graduation.

In that photo, his brow was furrowed, looking entirely annoyed.

It turned out he didn't hate photos. He just hated taking them with me.

"Handsome, right?" Aurora giggled as she took her phone back.

"Honestly, at first, I felt pretty insecure."

"He’s so successful, and there are always trashy girls throwing themselves at him."

"Especially his crazy ex-girlfriend. She’s an absolute nightmare!"

Hearing "ex-girlfriend," my nerves spiked.

"An ex-girlfriend?" I asked, pretending to be casual.

"Yeah!" Aurora rolled her eyes in disgust.

"Christopher said she was a gold-digging parasite. Her family was dirt poor, and she relied entirely on him for money."

"Later, Christopher found out she was sleeping around behind his back, so he dumped her."

"But she wouldn't let go. She kept texting him for money every other day."

"Christopher is too soft-hearted. He felt bad for her, so he’d occasionally throw her a few bucks to get her to go away."

I wanted to laugh out loud at the sheer absurdity.

A dirt-poor gold digger? Sleeping around? Soft-hearted charity?

Christopher, you really are something else.

You spent the hundreds of thousands of dollars of allowance I gave you every month, lived in the penthouse I paid for in full, and drove the Porsche I bought you.

Yet, in front of your new girl, you turned me into a pathetic, desperate, gold-digging ex?

For seven years, I was a fool, played like a toy in his hands.

To protect his ego, I never let him spend a single dime on me.

I secretly settled the bill whenever we ate out. I always bought him the most expensive gifts for holidays.

Meanwhile, he only got me cheap, twenty-dollar trinkets, which I cherished like priceless treasures.

I thought that was love. I thought it was mutual respect.

In reality, it was just a one-woman show.

And he sat in the audience, watching me perform like a clown, probably laughing his head off.

"Women like that deserve to be put in their place!" Aurora balled her hand into a fist, then smiled again.

"But it’s fine now. Christopher blocked her on everything."

"He told me he only cares about me and our baby now."

My ears buzzed. Nausea washed over me again. I couldn't take it anymore. I stood up abruptly.

"What’s wrong?" Aurora gasped, startled.

"I need to use the restroom."

I practically fled to the bathroom. Clinging to the sink, I dry-heaved for several minutes, but nothing came out.

Staring at the pale, red-eyed woman in the mirror, I felt entirely detached.

Chloe, you are pathetic.

All the business logic and intelligence you took pride in shattered into worthless dust the moment love was involved.

I turned on the faucet and splashed cold water onto my face.

The freezing water dripped down my cheeks, completely washing away the last shred of my foolish illusions.

Christopher, since you had the balls to do this, don't blame me for what comes next.

You want to step on my back, use my money, and give another woman the wedding of the century?

Keep dreaming.