Three years after we broke up, my ex sued me.
He demanded I return every penny he’d spent during our relationship.
It wasn’t because he was short on cash; it was because his current wife couldn’t stand me.
He knew I was battling depression after my parents died in a car crash.
He knew I was in the hospital, fighting for my life.
Yet, he still went through with it.
The court’s final verdict ordered me to repay **$28,523**.
Twenty-three bucks was for the macarons I’d wanted from a fancy Manhattan pastry shop.
I thought they were too expensive. He just smiled and bought them for me.
Five years of love, now all those memories twisted into knives, stabbing me.
He had no idea.
The $28,523 I repaid him was my entire life savings, the unpaid fee for my next round of cancer chemotherapy.
Right after the courts decision came down, I ran into Dean Thorne in the hallway.
It had been years, and hed changed so much.
The broke college kid, hustling to launch his startup from a tiny, shared apartment, was now a titan in the renewable energy sector.
He stood there in a crisp, tailored suit, his gaze landing on me with a distant chill.
I instinctively froze, wanting to pretend I hadnt seen him, to just walk past.
But then, he spoke, his voice slow and deliberate:
Do you regret it now?
I blinked, caught off guard. Regret what?
Dean offered a sneering smile.
Leaving me for money back then. You must be regretting it badly now, right?
The late autumn wind was cold, biting into my thin clothes, making me shiver even as I dug my nails into my palms. I just couldn’t shake the chill.
After a moment, I took a deep breath, flashing him my most perfect smile.
Dean, the moneys been returned. Were over. Arent you afraid your wife will get the wrong idea, talking like this?
I turned my head and saw Seraphina Thorne standing there, her face contorted with fury.
She quickly plastered on a smile, masking that last flicker of pure venom.
Seraphina clicked forward in her high heels, hooking her arm possessively through Deans.
Honey, what should I spend this twenty-eight thousand on? New clothes? Shoes? Or that designer bag I spotted last week?
She shot me a pointed look, then sighed dramatically.
Seems like its not quite enough, does it? Really, Dean, why werent you more generous with your ex? This little bit wouldnt even buy me a hair clip.
Dean and I had dated for five years. During that time, he was studying in the States, and I’d fly to Los Angeles every month to see him.
Most of that **$28,523** I repaid was for those plane tickets, the money he’d earned working grueling odd jobs day and night to cover my travel.
But now, he and Seraphina were using those old transfer records, with a lawyers help, to demand every cent back. And they acted like it was completely justified.
The hair clip Seraphina was wearing was last weeks latest Chanel, costing **$22,000**. My payment certainly wasn’t enough for that.
The next second, Dean lovingly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
Sweetheart, keep it for your pocket money. If its not enough, Ill add more.
Seraphina beamed, planting a kiss on Deans cheek.
Oh, honey, youre the best!
Then, she turned to me, a smirk playing on her lips, and offered a saccharine apology.
Elara, Im so sorry. We honestly dont need the money, but Dean and I made a bet, and he just wanted to make me happy, so
You know, ever since we got married, Dean worries Im working too hard, so he wont let me get a job. All I do every day is skincare, beauty treatments, and travel. I need *somebody* to entertain myself with, dont I?
She stepped closer, taking my hand, her eyes gleaming with triumph and pride
Thanks for making me so happy, and for showing me just how much my husband truly loves me.
My brow furrowed, my heart pricked by a thousand tiny needles.
For the wealthy, I was merely a prop, a tool used to showcase Deans devotion to his wife.
I forced my trembling hands still, again summoning a perfect smile.
Debts must be paid. Its only right.
Seraphina smirked.
I hope you always feel that way.
My husband is a little naive, easily fooled by vain, opportunistic people. I just wanted to help him save face. Hope you dont mind.
The next moment, she yanked my hand with sudden force, digging her nails into my wrist.
I wasn’t ready. With a gasp, I tumbled down the stairs, my knee slamming against the marble steps, instantly drawing blood.
I winced, trembling with pain, and looked up at the figures on the landing.
Seraphina covered her mouth, feigning surprise. Elara, what happened? Its just twenty-eight thousand. Youre not so weak you cant even stand on stairs, are you? You look really hurt. Should we give you a ride home?
She then flashed a triumphant smile.
Dean just bought me a new sports car.
Seraphinas sports car was Deans wedding anniversary gift to her.
The body was encrusted with pink diamonds, perfectly matching her aesthetic.
She often drove it out, causing a sensation in the media and envy among countless onlookers.
My gaze drifted to Dean. His eyes were cold, deep, looking down at me from above, filled with an icy detachment.
Like a defeated stray, I scrambled clumsily to my feet, then smiled at them again.
No thanks, Ill get back on my own.
Seraphina giggled, delighted. Alright, well get going then!
Then, she turned to Dean.
Honey, I know what I should buy now.
Lilys dog bowl broke. I want to get her a smart one.
Dean stared at me, complex emotions swirling in his eyes.
After a moment, he exhaled slowly.
Whatever.
Seraphina linked her arm with Deans, skipping off happily.
It wasn’t until their dazzling sports car roared past me, until a taxi pulled up to the curb, that I suddenly remembered I didn’t even have money for a ride anymore.
Dean would never know.
The money he was spending on a dog bowl was actually my lifeline.
I dragged my battered body back home.
My cramped, leaky attic apartment in a rundown building always seemed to rattle with the sharp clang of metal whenever the wind blew or it rained.
It kept me awake all night. In the summer, it was a sweatbox. I didn’t have AC and couldn’t afford the electricity bill, so I’d suffered heatstroke several times.
I’d thought Dean would never find me here. I never imagined our next meeting would be in court.
I took one last look at the news clippings taped to the wall, cut from magazines and newspapers, then tore them down one by one.
Each clipping featured Dean’s photo.
His first interview as a rising star in the renewable energy sector, his awards ceremony for NYC’s Top 10 Outstanding Young Entrepreneurs, and
His proposal to Seraphina on one knee, and their lavish public wedding ceremony, witnessed by media and countless onlookers.
I took a deep breath, tearing the news pages, tucking them all into a cardboard box hidden under my bed.
My gaze fell upon a photo at the bottom of the box.
A wave of bitterness washed over me as I looked at Dean in the picture, his arm around me, his smile shy, gentle, and full of joy.
Thinking of his cold, distant face in the courthouse hallway, he seemed like a complete stranger now, like someone from another lifetime.
He was now the CEO of a publicly traded company, a powerful business phenom in New York, a renowned philanthropist.
He was the perfect husband, doting on Seraphina, holding her in the palm of his hand. Only he wasnt my boyfriend anymore.
I finally managed a bitter smile, sealing those news clippings and photos away, burying them with my past.
Then, I looked in the mirror, started putting on makeup, and slipped into a tight dress.
Manager, starting tonight, I want to work the night shift.
Night shifts at the bar meant running into more creepy, handsy guys, but it also meant making money faster.
I had no choice. To survive, to pay for my treatment, I had to earn.
But I never expected to see Dean there.
Gazing at his figure, surrounded by a crowd, my fingers instinctively clenched, and the exposed skin on my arms seemed to burn.
He saw me too, of course. After a flicker of shock and disbelief, a look of sarcastic disdain crossed his face
So, this is where you work, huh.
My palms were sweating, but I forced myself to stay calm.
Sir, your drink.
Dean’s expression was mocking, as if he were looking at a rat scrambling in a sewer.
Right. Any man in here, you could latch onto one, and theyd set you up for life. Pretty typical of you, isnt it?
I took another deep breath. Dean, your drink.
But he just raised an eyebrow.
How long have you been here? Dont you know how to serve people?
He pulled out a check from his jacket, casually scribbled a number, and imperiously tossed it at my feet.
Keep these guys happy for me, and this money is yours.
The check fluttered to the floor. I slowly bent down to pick it up, a sharp pain shooting through my injured knee.
When I saw the number on the check, my pupils constricted. My heart felt a violent squeeze, leaving me breathless.
**$28,523**. The exact amount I had repaid him in court.
He was using that number to humiliate me.
I stood there, meeting his gaze. After a long silence, I finally spoke
This is your payment to me, Dean. I suppose I wont have to return it, right?
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