"Whatever you want, I'll buy it for you."

That's what he told me once.

Yet a two-hundred-dollar bouquet of flowers? He turned right around and bought one for someone else.

The phone in my hand suddenly buzzed. An unfamiliar number flashed across the screen.

"Hello?"

My heart lurched as I answered.

"Hi, I'm the owner of this phone..."

It was Marvin.

He thought he'd lost it.

"It's me," I said. "Your phone's not lost. You left it at home."

A beat of silence on the other end, then a laugh, heavy with relief.

"Oh, it's at home!"

"I thought someone swiped it on the subway!"

"I'm coming right back to get it."

After he hung up, I kept scrolling through his phone.

His Amazon cart was full of women's skincare and makeup, along with a handful of pricey collectible boxes. His purchase history was a parade of necklaces, bracelets, handbags, lipstick...

The recipient for every single one was Lucy.

The most recent order was the newest model phone. I'd bought him the white one. He'd bought the orange one for her.

Every penny I'd scrimped and saved over the past four years, Marvin had found a place to spend.

In that moment, my heart felt smothered, like someone had pulled a plastic bag over it. Even my breathing trembled.

Click. The front door opened behind me.

Marvin stood in the doorway, panting. Without a word, he walked in and gulped down a huge mouthful of water.

"Rosie, you've got the late shift this afternoon?"

It was the weekend. I didn't have to work. But to earn extra money, I'd picked up a weekend gig at the mall near our apartment.

Marvin, on the other hand, chose to work overtime at his office because the company paid time-and-a-half.

"Yeah. Three o'clock."

I kept my voice flat, low, willing him to catch the edge in it.

He didn't. He just grinned. "My hardworking wife, saving up for our wedding with me."

"Your husband's gonna head right back and grind it out. Hit those targets, score a big bonus, and move that progress bar along."

I stood there, watching him in silence.

"We've actually saved up most of what we need," I said. "How about next month you come back with me to meet my parents?"

Marvin slipped his phone into his pocket. His brow creased slightly.

"I mean, sure, the bride price is pretty much covered, and we bought the place. But we still don't have the money for renovations. Plus, the wedding itself is going to cost a lot."

"How about we wait one more year?"

Wait. Again.

He'd said these things before. I'd never thought much of it, but now every word sounded like a stalling tactic.

When I didn't respond, Marvin walked over and tugged gently at my hand.

"Just a little longer."

"Rosie, I don't want your parents looking down on me."

"I want to marry you properly. Give you the wedding you deserve."

That one offhand remark my parents had made years ago had become the biggest obstacle to our marriage.

And the most convenient excuse Marvin ever had.

What he didn't know was that my parents couldn't have cared less about the money.

Our family wasn't short on cash.

This past holiday season, my parents had already relented. I just hadn't gotten around to telling him.

They wouldn't keep a single dollar of the bride price. And the trousseau they'd give us would be worth several times what we'd saved over the years.

"Okay," I said.

My heart sank, bit by bit, into stillness.

The bitterness churning inside my chest rose like a tide threatening to spill over.

I stood up and walked toward the $1.99 bouquet of dried flowers.

They weren't worth anything. But back then, the love behind them was.

Now the love wasn't worth anything either.

With a soft thud, I tossed the dried flowers into the trash.

Back in the room, I opened the cabinet.

I took the new phone out of its box and slipped in my own SIM card.

The first thing I did after powering it on was quit my weekend side job.

The second thing was call my brother.

"Quinn Sullivan, can you send me the contact info for that lawyer friend of yours?"

My money. I wasn't going to let anyone else walk away with a single cent of it.

"What's going on?"

Maybe something in my voice gave me away, because my brother picked up on it immediately.

"It's nothing. I'll tell you once I've sorted it out."

He didn't push. A second later, a business card popped up on my screen.

The lawyer called me back almost right away.

"So let me get this straight. You're not married, but every dollar you saved, you transferred to him?"

"And the down payment on the house includes your money?"

He must not have come across someone this lovesick and naive very often.

There was a pause on the other end of the line.

"If you have the transaction records, this money shouldn't be too hard to recover."

"But did you include any notes with the transfers? Keywords like 'house purchase' or 'bride price,' anything like that?"

"Yes."

I was stupid.

But at least not that stupid.

Every time I transferred money to Marvin, I'd made sure to note what it was for and which installment it was.

Partly to keep my own records straight, and partly so I'd always know exactly how much I'd sent him in total.

"That makes things a lot easier. There's a very good chance you can get all of it back."

Hearing that loosened the knot in my chest a little.

"But the house isn't in my name. Can I still get my money back?"

Silence again on the other end.

After a long moment, he let out a sigh. "Girl, they don't make them as trusting as you anymore..."

I gave a bitter laugh and mumbled something back.

Yeah. I really was that naive.

"It's fine. The transaction records are what matter."

"Pull up all your transfer history and send it to me. And screenshots of your conversations with him too."

"Okay."

After I hung up, I opened my account and pulled everything.

I'd started transferring money to Marvin in August 2022.

First came the house fund. Fifty installments.

The house was in Marvin's hometown. A hundred and thirty-three hundred square feet, with a down payment of $130,000.

After that came the bride price. Fifteen installments.

Then there were the scattered transfers for things like renovations on his family's old house, appliances, plus three mortgage payments. Another $10,000 altogether.

Over the years, I'd sent Marvin a total of $100,000.

I dug up all the chat logs too and forwarded everything to Nathan Caldwell.

But something still didn't add up. The house had cost $130,000 as a down payment.

Where had Marvin gotten the other $98,000?

That evening, Marvin came home from work early.

He opened the door, saw me, and blinked. "Aren't you supposed to be on the late shift? Why are you home?"

I kept folding the clothes in my hands. "Oh, I quit."

"What happened? Was work getting to you?"

"It's nothing. It was just a side job. No big deal."

"We're not under that much pressure anymore anyway. No need to run yourself into the ground."

Marvin spoke in the same easy tone he always used, not a flicker of anything off in his eyes.

He smiled, ruffled my hair, and headed for the kitchen.

I sat on the couch and turned to watch his back as he busied himself at the stove.

Over the years, Marvin had treated me well enough. He cooked, he did the laundry, never let me lift a finger for any of it.

The only things he couldn't give me were a marriage and money.

"Marvin, I want to get married."

His hand on the spatula froze, just for a second.

He turned to look at me. "We will!"

"Next year. We'll do it next year!"

I didn't say anything else. I ate that meal with my mind somewhere far away.

I woke up in the middle of the night and reached for Marvin's phone again.

I opened the bank card he'd been using to save money. Scrolling through the transaction history, the truth stared back at me: every single deposit on this card was mine.

Four years, and Marvin hadn't saved a single cent.

The $98,000 that had been transferred out was all my money.

In other words, the bride price he'd paid was mine.

Then what about the house?

Where had the down payment gone?

In the pitch-dark room, the glow of the screen tore my heart open inch by inch.

I opened every card linked to his accounts and went through the statements one by one. There wasn't a single large transfer related to a home purchase. But Marvin had gone back to his hometown at the end of the year and signed the contract. We'd picked the house together, negotiated the signing date ourselves. The only reason I hadn't been there was because I'd been sick that day. Marvin had even sent me photos from the signing and a copy of the contract.

There on the phone was his chat with me from that day.

My entire body went rigid. I couldn't move.

The naked truth crushed the air from my lungs.

For four years, I'd been the only one saving money. And every dollar I'd saved had become another woman's bride price.

I sat by the window and called the real estate agent who'd handled the house.

"Oh, oh yeah, I remember you!"

"Your husband never came back to sign, though. He said he'd found another place he liked better."

"That unit ended up going to someone else. A young woman."

The agent was still as friendly as ever, a hint of regret in her voice.

"It really was a great deal. I heard she bought it as a wedding home too."

"The guy only put the girl's name on the deed. Can you imagine? Lucky girl."

"No worries, though. Next time something good comes up, I'll let you know."

I took a deep breath and mustered the courage to ask.

"Could you tell me who the girl was? I love that unit so much, I'd be willing to pay above market to buy it back."

The agent paused.

"Pay above market? That doesn't seem worth it..."

"It's fine. Money isn't an issue."

The agent said she'd ask around. Before long, someone sent me a friend request.

I opened the contact card and saw the number. A number I recognized.

It was the same one Marvin used to order delivery and send gifts.

You want to buy my place?

The message came almost immediately.

Yes, I really love that unit. The apartment number is actually my boyfriend's birthday.

Would you be willing to sell? I can pay extra.

She sent a smiley face.

How much extra are we talking? I bought it as a wedding home too, so I'd have to check with my boyfriend.

I tapped at the screen. A wedding home too? What a coincidence. The agent mentioned the deed is only in your name?

Your boyfriend must really love you.

Yeah, he's really good to me.

We've been together two years. We're getting engaged on the third of next month.

I stared at the messages popping up on the screen, then turned to look at Marvin, fast asleep in bed, snoring softly.

We'd been together eight years. Never married.

They'd been together two years. Already getting engaged.

In the darkness of the room, I typed out a reply with trembling hands.

Congratulations.

What's your name? I'll save your contact.

The reply came quickly. Lucy Dickerson.

I stood by the window until morning. I never slept.

I kept turning it over in my head. Marvin was with me every day. How had he managed to carry on a whole relationship with another woman?

The next morning, I acted like nothing had happened and saw Marvin off at the door.

Over the next few days, I used my time at work to send every piece of evidence to Nathan.

I studied the home purchase contract carefully. It was signed on December 5th.

The $98,000 bride price had been transferred on November 15th.

Which meant the money used to buy that house was very likely mine.

Marvin had used me to fund his entire marriage to another woman without spending a single cent of his own.

A few days later, Lucy finally got back to me.

My boyfriend doesn't want to sell. Sorry about that.

No surprise there.

They were about to get engaged, after all. Marvin wouldn't tolerate any variables at this stage.

The days slipped by quickly, and soon it was the third of the following month.

The day before, Marvin called me.

"Rosie, my mom fell in the field. I need to head back to Ridgemont."

"I'll be back in a few days."

He sounded frantic. His acting was flawless.

"Okay."

What he didn't know was that I was on the same express train to Ridgemont.

I wanted to see for myself the "wife" my $98,000 had paid for.