My Fiancé Abandoned Me When Grandpa Died

When I returned to my rightful place in the wealthy Snyder family, it was my first encounter with Crew Bradley. After he saved me from a dangerous situation, I fell for him, trailing after him with unreturned affection for five years, until he finally became my fiancé. Yet, he always seemed to disapprove of me, criticizing my lack of refinement and poise.

When my grandfather, who had raised me with all his love, fell gravely ill, I desperately needed Crew's support. Instead, he decided it was an opportunity for me to learn a hard lesson, thinking it would make me wiser. My grandfather passed away, alone and powerless, and as Crew hoped, I learned my lesson. But I also stopped loving him.

When I was left at the roadside in the city, I became the laughingstock of high society. The truth of my situation spread quickly: the real daughter of the Snyder family, punished by her parents for clashing with the impostor daughter, stormed out in anger after having her accounts frozen. Outwardly defiant, but secretly drowning in debt, I was brutalized when I failed to repay a loan shark.

The news spread among them, and they gathered where I had been thrown out, openly recording my disgrace on their phones. I didn't respond with screams, desperate to maintain some dignity. My pride had already been worn away by those loan sharks, bit by bit.

No longer was I the proud and headstrong Elisabeth Snyder, always stirring trouble and demanding justice. The Snyder family, along with Crew, had shattered that pride with merciless precision.

Suddenly, a few sleek sedans arrived, scattering the onlookers. The lead car, though understated, indicated the presence of someone significant—I knew Crew Bradley was inside.

I glanced at the car, pursed my lips, and turned to walk away. The car door opened, and a man in a suit approached me quickly. He looked surprised for a moment when he saw my face and attire.

I knew I was a mess. I was still wearing the black Victorian-style dress from my grandfather’s funeral, stained and dirty. The bruises on my exposed right hand were from the loan sharks’ kicks. My left hand was adorned with a grimy glove that didn’t match, and I was barefoot, my toes red and swollen from being slammed against a step.

The man looked down, perhaps with a touch of sympathy, and spoke politely.

"Miss Snyder, Mr. Bradley is waiting for you."

I kept my head lowered, not looking at the assistant, and replied in a muted voice, "No, thank you. I can walk myself."

With that, I moved past him. The assistant was taken aback.

For five years, I had seen Crew as my savior, trailing behind him even when he ignored me. I would always find an excuse to be near him. But now, I saw him as a threat, and this transformation undoubtedly surprised the assistant, who was accustomed to my relentless pursuit.

"Elisabeth!"

His deep, steady voice made me pause instinctively. The assistant noticed my slightly red eyes. He hesitated, then gestured for me to enter the car.

Dragging my weary steps, I ignored the assistant's tentative gaze and slowly got into the car.

Crew was inside. He didn’t express concern for my disheveled state but instead frowned deeply, his tone displeased. "Haven't seen you for half a month, and you've become a vagrant?"

His mockery didn’t sting as it once did, nor did the fact that he failed to notice my injuries make me feel despondent. With my head hung low, I whispered an apology.

"I'm sorry."

But I didn’t intend to end up like this. I hadn’t wanted to be scammed into taking a loan, to be battered by those ruthless lenders, to be forced to humiliate myself or treated like an animal. And most of all, I didn’t want my grandfather's grave to be disturbed.

His hand paused for a moment, and he glanced at me, his tone unexpectedly appreciative. "Kaliyah's method seems to have worked; you do seem more obedient than before…"

Before being reclaimed by the Snyder family, Kaliyah had taken my place, living the life meant for me. I had been living with my grandfather, who was related to Kaliyah by blood. Her father died in an accident, and after dropping me off with my grandfather, her mother had disappeared.

I didn’t have much time to ponder why he brought up Kaliyah, as Crew gestured towards me as if summoning a pet.

"Come here."

I sat as far away from Crew as possible, not having looked at him since getting into the car, focusing instead on the floor mats. When I heard his command, resistance filled my eyes, and I remained motionless.

He noticed my lack of response and spoke more sternly. "I said come here."

I stayed silent, my back straight as a rod in a futile attempt to salvage my tattered dignity, even though I knew it had vanished when I had begged for mercy.

Without my reply, a silence filled the car. Perhaps Crew was unaccustomed to this atmosphere, or maybe impatience got the better of him. He reached out, leaning towards me.

As his hand drew close, I tensed, unable to escape, trapped by the car window. When his hand grasped my arm, the scent of alcohol hit me.

That smell triggered a flood of memories. Out of anger for having my bank cards taken away, I’d returned to my grandfather's house only to find him gravely ill. Penniless, I called my parents, but no one answered.

Then some wealthy kids from another city mockingly said, "I hear Miss Snyder could use some cash."

"Why don't you bow for us? Maybe then we'd be in the mood to lend you some."

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw my grandfather lying in bed, coughing violently, sometimes coughing up blood.

So, without hesitation, I knelt before them in the packed club. The only sound was my head hitting the floor. I did it so hard, my forehead hasn't healed even now.

In the end, they threw three bills at me with a laugh and said as they left, "Mr. Bradley said your love's only worth this much."

That was how I ended up ensnared in a high-interest loan, unable to afford timely medical care for my grandfather, who eventually died.

After his funeral, with the loan due, I called Crew for help. He answered with a scoff before hanging up.

These memories made me breathless, and with Crew's hand on my arm, I felt a shiver as if a snake had coiled around me, inducing waves of nausea. Dizzy and sick to my stomach, I wrenched free, bending over to dry heave, clutching the front seat with my gloved hand.

I hadn’t eaten much lately, so there was nothing to throw up. Nevertheless, Crew covered his nose with a tissue, his eyes brimming with disdain as he sternly called out to me.

"Elisabeth!"

Ignoring him, I continued until the urge to vomit subsided. I knew him well enough to see, by the bulging vein on his forehead, that he was on the verge of anger.

But I didn't resort to my usual tactics of coaxing and cajoling to diffuse the situation. I had no leverage anymore.

My body trembled from weakness, my head bowed, gripping the seat in front of me tightly.

"I'm sorry... I'll clean it up."

"I can ride in one of the other cars. I'm sorry for messing up your car."

Crew paused, shooting me a skeptical look.

We stayed locked in silence until he suddenly reached out to feel my forehead. Watching his hand approach, I froze in place. I knew better than to pull away; Crew would get angry, and in the past, his anger was my greatest fear.

Whenever he got angry, he'd belittle me until I was both humiliated and heartbroken.

I remained tense in my seat, repeating to myself not to flinch.

But when his fingers brushed my skin, that crawling, nauseating sensation surged up again, and I reflexively jerked my head away from his touch.

His hand hovered awkwardly, halted mid-air. His gaze held a mixture of anger and impatience when he looked at me.

Dizziness returned, and with a shake of my head, Crew's face vanished, replaced by the image of my grandfather in a hospital bed with tubes all around him.

I vividly recalled being unable to secure the funds for his treatment, resulting in the hospital ceasing care. I knelt at his bedside, my crying a wretched, ugly sound.

Despite the difficulty speaking, my grandfather still managed a wan smile. "Are they treating you well?" he asked.

Sobbing, despite knowing my parents favored Kaliyah, despite her hostility, despite Crew’s disdain, I choked out, "Yes, they're good to me."

He reached out, perhaps to stroke my hair. "Our little girl is finally loved," he murmured.

Before I could move closer for him to touch my hair, he closed his eyes forever.

I blinked, and a solitary tear fell.