The day before our wedding, my boyfriend suddenly asked me to buy him a Mercedes.

He looked at me with those helpless eyes.

"You’re pregnant and can’t work. Supporting the family and raising the baby falls on me. Buying a car would make it easier for me to manage both work and taking care of you."

To help me, my mother handed over her life savings.

"Mom’s getting old. As long as you’re happy, that’s enough for me. I understand Drew’s concerns; holding a family together isn’t easy. I’ll pay for the car."

But just three months after the wedding, my mother was diagnosed with stomach cancer.

I couldn’t gather enough for her treatment, and in the end, I dropped to my knees and begged Drew Callahan for help.

Only to discover he had just three thousand dollars left in his account.

I broke down, heart shattered, demanding answers, but all he gave me was cold suspicion. He even dragged me to forcibly end my pregnancy.

"You started scheming right after the wedding? Thought having my kid would help you control me? Let me make one thing clear. There’s no shortage of women who’d line up to bear my child!"

Left with no choice, I worked myself to the bone across multiple part-time jobs. Even then, the medical bills only kept piling up.

On the day my mother died, I couldn’t even afford a proper urn.

Yet on the way back from the funeral home, I saw Drew at a luxury car dealership, with another woman by his side.

"So poor people are all the same, scheming and manipulative. I thought Anya Vale would be different, but turns out she’s just another uterus warrior. Whatever. I lost this round. Pick any car you like. I’ll pay."

My hands, clutching the box of ashes, began to tremble uncontrollably.

So it had all been a game to him.

But when I finally turned to leave, ready to walk away for good, he dropped to his knees, crying, begging me to stay.

——

"I told you, poor people don’t know what love even is. I honestly feel bad for my brother. She couldn’t even pretend for longer than three months. Got exposed way too soon. So dull."

The woman beside Drew leaned smugly against his shoulder. I couldn’t see his face, only watched as he calmly swiped his card.

"A bet’s a bet. Looks like I misjudged her. No big deal. Anya had the looks and the body, think of it as paying for two years with a high-end escort. Not exactly a loss."

The girl flashed a bright, eager smile as she clung to Drew’s arm, pulling him toward the sleek new car.

I knew that dealership far too well. Back when my mother was sick, I worked there as a repair tech, always the first to dive into the filthiest, toughest jobs.

Today, I’d only come to pack my things and resign.

As the limited-edition Ferrari roared off with arrogance, I slowly made my way inside. One of the salesgirls was still chirping excitedly.

"That’s the son of the city’s richest man! Just dropped millions on a supercar like it was nothing. Makes me want to quit and marry rich. Why waste ten years struggling?"

I stood frozen, the tin of mooncakes in my arms, cradling the box of ashes.

The manager approached to settle my final pay. He sighed, resting a hand on my shoulder.

"There’s a little extra in there, just a small bonus. My condolences. And if you ever want to return, we’ll always welcome you back."

Less than two thousand dollars. Not even enough to cover half a day of my mother’s treatment.

Yet now, it was all I had left in the world.

I drifted home, dazed. The landlord was already waiting by the door.

"Anya, you’re two months behind. If you can’t catch up soon, not even the deposit will cover it."

I forced a tired smile, clutching the cash tightly.

"Uncle, something urgent came up. I’ll move out as soon as I can."

He raised a brow, chuckling.

"Bought a new place, huh? Saw your husband roll in with a luxury car the other day. You two really keep things quiet."

I gave a hollow smile and lowered my gaze, not knowing how to answer. When, right then, Drew stepped out of the elevator.

When he saw me, he clicked his tongue with clear impatience and flung his bag at me without a second glance.

The landlord turned to him and said, "If you’re breaking the lease early, the deposit won’t be refunded. You still need to cover these two months’ rent. I mean, you two don’t exactly look broke, don’t make things difficult for me."

The moment those words left his mouth, Drew shot me a cold, cutting glare.

"You didn’t pay the rent? Waiting here to ambush me? Anya, do you have to make yourself this cheap? Throwing your little games in my face. Are you really that desperate for money?"

I answered without thinking.

"Yes, I am."

The five hundred thousand dollars my mom spent her life saving was nothing but spare change to him. But for her, it had cost everything, her life.

He scoffed and yanked a thick wad of cash from his bag, slamming it across my face.

"Here, how much do you want? Take it!"

Red bills flew across the hallway, scattering at my feet.

Just days ago, I might’ve dropped to the floor and grabbed every last note.

But now, they were worthless to me.

I counted out just enough to cover two months’ rent and handed it to the landlord. Without saying another word, I turned the key and stepped inside.

This apartment had once been our little world, where Drew and I lived together for two years. Every corner, every shadow still held the warmth of our past.

My gaze landed on the photo hanging on the wall. We looked a little awkward in it, but we were leaning into each other, our smiles wide and foolishly bright.

It was our first photo together.

Fresh out of college, he had approached me in the pantry during my internship, claiming he was an intern from another department.

I still remember the way his eyes curved when he smiled, that quiet gleam in them as he said he didn’t know much and hoped I could teach him.

He had seemed so sincere, so harmless. Even if it was all deliberate, I still fell for it, fell for him.

I truly believed we could build a future together. I worked hard, fought tooth and nail for a permanent position, trying to carve out a space for us in this ruthless city.

For two years, we held each other up, brick by brick, life by life.

But now, everything had crumbled to dust.

All those dreams were just a rich boy’s temporary fantasy, a role he got bored with playing.

A bitter sense of absurdity welled up in me, but Drew didn’t notice the shift in my expression. He walked straight to the couch and sat down like nothing had happened.

"Happy now, Anya? You finally got your money. Must feel good, right?"

"You being this obsessed with money is honestly disgusting. What happened to your dignity? You used to be proud."

"Think about it. How many times have you asked me for money these past few months? All for some stupid Mercedes. You didn’t even bother to pretend anymore. So that whole story about fighting for your future? Just empty talk, wasn’t it?"

I lifted my gaze to him. The man in front of me, dressed in a flawless suit, every detail of him polished, felt like a stranger.

He clearly had no intention of keeping up the mask anymore.

The frustration and disdain in his voice chipped away at me, piece by piece. Still, I didn’t react to his accusations. I only said quietly, "Let’s get a divorce, Drew."

A strange silence filled the space. Then, out of nowhere, he laughed.

"Shouldn’t I be the one saying that? Just to get that 500,000, you even made up that your mom had cancer. You know how much I hate being lied to. After two years together, I was completely blind. If we’re ending this, I’ll be the one to say it."

His voice burned with rage as he pulled a sheet of paper from his bag and signed it without hesitation.

"Come here. Sign it. Let’s get this over with. I don’t have time to waste on you."

So, he’d come prepared all along.

I carefully placed the box of ashes and the upside-down portrait on the cabinet, then walked slowly, step by step, until I stood in front of Drew.

Without a flicker of hesitation, I picked up the pen and signed my name.

From the corner of my eye, I saw him scanning me coldly from head to toe. All I felt in return was a wave of disgust and a quiet sense of powerlessness.

As soon as I finished signing, he gave a mocking snort and tossed a bank card onto the floor.

"All your money’s in there, untouched. Take it as my gift for two years together. I was wrong about you."

I turned back and looked at him one final time.

I remembered just days ago when my mom was on the brink of death. She whispered that she wanted to see Drew and said she just wanted to know we were doing well.

By then, he had already lost all patience with me, ever since I begged him for help. Still, for my mom’s sake, I swallowed my pride and called him.

It wasn’t until the next morning that he finally answered. The moment he picked up, he snapped with biting sarcasm.

"Back to beg for money again? Go ahead. What is it this time?"

I choked back my anger and said quietly, "My mom’s not going to make it. Can you come to see her? Just once. Let her believe we’re okay. That’s all she wants."

What came next was a loud burst of laughter from his end.

"Nice upgrade to your little script. Do you really think that’ll make me feel sorry for you? That I’d suddenly throw money at you because you tugged a few heartstrings?"

"This drama’s not really my thing. Keep practicing. Maybe next time, come up with something actually touching. Who knows. I might even believe it."

Then he hung up. When I called again, I was already blocked.

He never showed up. Not even when my mom passed away.

I couldn’t forget the last thing she said to me.

She looked at me, her voice soft but filled with warmth.

"When the baby comes, I won’t be around to help with your postpartum care. Women really need rest after childbirth. I still wanted to remind him to take good care of you."

"A couple needs to understand each other. He’s a good boy. You two should live well together."

Even in her final breath, she still wished for me to have a good life with him.

But she didn’t know that just one day after I begged Drew for help, he dragged me to the hospital and forced an abortion on me.

He said he didn’t want a child to be used against him. Said he’d crush any hope I had left.

Fresh out of surgery, I had no time to breathe. Medical bills hounded me like shadows, and I threw myself into endless side jobs, day and night, without pause.

And what was Drew doing during that time? Drinking, partying with another woman, whining to his friends that I was using him?

I couldn’t even summon the strength to be angry anymore. All that remained was a bitter, ridiculous sense of absurdity.

I picked up the card because inside was the money my mom had spent her entire life saving. That money was hers. I had every right to take it back.

Drew let out a cold snort behind me as if mocking the way I stooped to retrieve it.

I said nothing. I pocketed the card and quietly began packing my things.

Five hundred thousand dollars, enough to buy my mom a proper urn and a grave where she could finally rest in peace.

The thought hit me like a blow, and a sharp sting rose in my nose.

I had never been someone who cried. Not when I was caring for her, not even when she passed.

Even now, I keep wondering if I had just tried a little harder, would things have turned out differently?

But the truth was, the pain had only just arrived. And it was only now that I began to realize, piece by piece, that my mom was truly gone.

Tears slid silently down my cheeks as my trembling hands struggled to keep packing, until, all of a sudden, the doorbell rang.

Drew went to answer it, and I slowly looked up.

The woman standing at the door looked familiar; it was the same young girl I’d seen at the dealership picking up her new car.

She beamed at Drew, her voice light and sweet.

"Brother, I was worried she might lose it and do something desperate, so I came to protect you. Poor people can be terrifying when they’re cornered. Did you finish signing the papers? I came to take you home."

Drew’s expression softened the instant he saw her.