His Can Ring Promise

It was our seventh anniversary. Christopher Quinton proposed to me with nothing but a ring pull.

He got his true love a house.

When I said no, he rebuked me like I was some sort of gold digger.

"I thought my love for you was worth more than anything money could buy. I only got Rachel that house to pay her back for all she did for me. I can't believe you thought I still loved her. You disappoint me."

I broke up with him and tossed the ring pull into the bin. Then, I walked off.

The next day, Christopher took away my position as VP and told everyone he was getting engaged to Rachel.

…

Five years later, we ran into each other at a charity horserace. He was a successful businessman, and the woman beside him was Rachel, all dressed in custom-made clothes.

I was dressed in janitor attire and stuffing plastic bottles into my woven bag.

He mocked, "Look at you, Queenie Dean. Scavenging for a living. Bet you didn't see this coming when you ditched me, did you?"

I ignored him. My son had run off, and I had to look for him. The boy noticed the plastic bottles that were strewn across the ground, and he insisted that we stay back to finish his social practice activity here.

Curious

It happened in the special audience zone of the horserace. Christopher Quinton was amidst the owners of listed companies, and with him was Rachel Benson.

He was dressed in a sharp, crisp suit. White shirt, black trousers. The man looked nothing less than an elite.

Then, his face was plastered all over the screen, and the amount of his donation kept going up. The people around him realized what this must mean. They put on fake smiles and cracked jokes.

"You're young but accomplished, Mr. Quinton. That's 450 grand, and you donated it like it was nothing."

"This horserace is something the Halloways started. You'll get a chance to make a friend out of that person. Don't forget about us."

The business owners exchanged knowing looks and smiled calmly. The people here were bluebloods and elites of the city. Networking would do good for their future.

"Oh, Mr. West, you jest. You hold half a dozen projects. We'd love to work with you."

Rachel's comment caught the attention of Mr. West. He played along and said unctuously, "Yes, of course. Mr. Quinton, this must be your wife. You're a great man, you are. Business and family, and you get them both. Do you have any children? Maybe our children can be friends."

Rachel smiled shyly and buried her head in her chest. She looked at Christopher, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Christopher's busy with work, so we're not in a hurry to have any children. We're engaged."

Then, everyone turned their eyes to Christopher. That made him freeze up, and then a stiff smile pulled itself on the corners of his lips. "She's the one I love. We'll have children, sooner or later."

Well, this was a surprise. It'd been five years since they got engaged, and yet they hadn't gotten married. He made it a point to tell everyone he and Rachel had gotten engaged the day after our breakup.

I still remembered the hashtags—#You'reMyLove.TenYearsSeparatedUs.You'reMine.#—and the hashtag about Rachel's engagement ring—#BossLady'sRing.DiamondBigAsQuailEgg.#

Their loving relationship became the theme of every webpage I surfed.

And then a severe voice rang out behind me. His nametag told me who he was. The racecourse's manager. "What's your employee number? Who let you scavenge here? Everyone here's a VIP! We don't let janitors in here. Now get out!"

I stared at my hands. They were covered in grime and filth. My clothes were not the exact image of cleanliness either. Yeah, of course they'd think I wasn't one of the VIPs.

I explained, "Sorry, but I'm a guest too."