Awaiting Love's Spring Blossoms

When my mom's condition worsened, I begged Mark Caldwell to come with me to the hospital. But instead of showing a shred of compassion, he accused me of interrupting his meeting with his secretary. In a burst of anger, he shoved me out of the car and cut off my bank card.

Bleeding from my feet, I made it to the hospital only to find that my mom had missed her treatment—and I had missed the chance to say goodbye.

As I left the hospital in a daze, a fresh post from his assistant appeared on my feed,

Chloe Davenport: [I sprained my ankle and my generous boss not only personally took me to the hospital but also sent me a set of large flats as compensation!]

The photo she shared told the rest of the story—stockings and lingerie were thrown all over the floor and the window glass reflection clearly showed the naked back of Mark.

I took a deep breath, canceled the wedding plans and booked a one-way ticket out of town. No matter how much Mark would beg, I promised myself I would not look back this time.

***

Just after successfully purchasing the ticket, my phone rang.

"Rachel Summers, what did you do to spend so much money at once? Do you think my money came from the wind? I think you don't want to get married!"

I calmly listened to Mark's accusations without the slightest fluctuation in my heart. After eight years together, I was exhausted from his constant games—dangled promises of marriage to keep me by his side. He cheated me to forgo graduate school and follow him to a strange city. He lied to me to take out my savings, start a business with him and support him. He even persuaded me to quit my job so I could stay home and 'focus on being his future wife'.

Just a few months ago, he'd dangled the marriage carrot again, claiming we should look for a place together. So, I threw myself into finding the perfect home, scouting every neighborhood until I found the suitable one.

It turned out that "the wedding house" was actually his gift to his assistant, Chloe Davenport—a sleek, high-rise penthouse worth millions. He had handed it over without a second thought. Meanwhile, the price of a mere plane ticket was enough to make him blow up at me.

Sighing, I finally said, "You're right—I don't want to get married. Let's break up."

He paused, caught off guard, before sneering, "Oh, learned how to play games with me, huh?" His tone grew darker, laced with venom. "Think about it—who's been keeping you afloat all this time? When you leave me, who else would want you after five years of being used?"

His words cut like a knife, but they didn't sting like they used to. The heartbreak, the fear, the nights spent apologizing—those feelings had numbed. Mom's passing had snapped me out of the fog, forcing me to see Mark for who he truly was.

"We've been together for eight years," I reminded him quietly.

Eight years of my youth were wasted on empty promises. If, in the past, I had been sad, I would have been afraid and I would have cried and apologized. But now, my heart is like a piece of dehydrated, frozen meat, numb to the knife.

'How could a man who hadn't been willing to give me a name for eight years truly want to marry me?'

I hung up, hailed a cab and went home to pack. Halfway through packing, I realized I didn't have much to gather. Mark had to go out to socialize; his suit and shirt hung all over the closet, while my side held only a few old pieces.

While I was lost in thought, Mark stormed in and pushed the door open.

"What are you doing standing around like that?" he demanded. "This place is a mess! Are you just only going to stand there?"

I was holding a sweater my mom had knit me years ago. A few silent tears began to fall. Mark extended his hand to shove me, but he paused when he saw the tears on my face. "Come on, there's no need for all that just because I gave you a little feedback. Is it necessary to cry like this?"

"Chloe's injury happened on the job," he went on, matter-of-factly, "and as her boss, it's my duty to show a little concern."

His voice softened only slightly. "You're going to be the boss's wife soon. Surely, you can't let yourself get jealous over a newbie like her."

And with that, he walked past me, acting like everything was perfectly normal.