In the third year I've decided to support my girlfriend, Iris Fulton, by opening a flower shop, she has gone into bankruptcy once again.

The first time she went bankrupt, I sold the house my grandma had left for me so that I could clear the debt of 700 thousand dollars.

The second time she went bankrupt, I was able to locate the bank passbook Mom had left for me as a wedding gift. That was how I paid back one million and six hundred thousand dollars.

The third time Iris has gone bankrupt, however, I can only grip the note with my filthy rich dad's phone number while staring at her lost and dazed expression. At that time, I'm debating whether or not I should call him.

But that night, I accidentally notice the chat history on Iris' group chat that's displayed on her tablet.

"Hey Iris, how many figures are you going to fill into the sum of the bankruptcy contract that's supposed to be cleared this time?"

"Let's put ten million dollars. Otherwise, that flower-selling plaything will be able to clear the debt in one go. It'll make things very boring."

"As expected of you, Iris! I heard that the plaything waters flowers in the morning and waters your 'flower garden' at night. You're never tired of him, are you?"

I put down Iris' tablet before calling my dad right away.

"You want me to take over the family business and marry your student, right? Fine, I'll do it. Get your men to pick me up in three days."

After hanging up the phone with my father, Iris Fulton came back with a signed IOU in her hand.

"Jas, I'm sorry. I owe another ten million this time. I'm completely useless."

Her acting was flawless. The confusion that reached deep into her eyes used to always earn the same response from me.

"It's okay. We'll work hard together and pay it all back eventually."

But this time, I just stared silently at the bracelet peeking out from beneath her sleeve. The piece looked plain and unremarkable, but I'd seen it featured in a magazine. It was worth 160 million dollars.

Iris owned a bracelet worth 160 million but supposedly couldn't repay a debt of ten million. I was completely broke, yet I'd been planning to borrow from loan sharks for her.

My genuine love for her had become the confidence she needed to toy with me without restraint. When she noticed me staring at the jewelry on her wrist, Iris leaned into my arms without the slightest change in expression.

"It's a fake, Jas. When I have money, I'll buy you whatever you want."

Because she knew I was poor and couldn't recognize luxury goods, she barely had to think before lying to me. I looked away, only to catch another message popping up in the group chat on the tablet I'd been shielding with my body.

"So what's the plaything selling this time? His flowers? His house? Himself?"

"If Iris trained him, he's gotta be good. I'll take the first night if he's available."

The messages that followed were flooded with vulgar comments and people chiming in with agreement.

In the three years we'd been together, I'd bailed her out of bankruptcy twice. The first time, I sold the house my grandmother left me. Iris held me close and promised she'd give me another home.

Instead, we lived in a basement apartment with a 400-dollar monthly rent for two years before she came back with another IOU, this time for two million. I still didn't blame her. I took out the money my mother had saved for my future wedding and covered what she owed.

She cried and said that by accepting my money, she was already my wife, and she'd love me forever. Every promise she'd ever made me was a lie.

The constant notification sounds pulled her attention to her phone. She glanced at me, and only after confirming I wasn't watching did she relax enough to unlock her phone and scroll through the group messages.

Within moments, her brows drew together and her mouth pressed into a tight line.

Her fingers moved across the screen, and the tablet immediately showed what she'd posted in the group. "Everyone shut up! Just sit back and watch the show."

Iris set down her phone. After a long silence, she pressed herself against me again with that familiar cloying affection.

"Jas, I promise this is the last time. Once we pay off this debt, I'll marry you. How does that sound?"

The earnest expression on her face struck me as absurd. How valuable must I be for a wealthy heiress to go to such lengths to deceive me? She was even willing to promise marriage.

Earlier, I'd still wanted to confront her, to ask if any of this was worth it. Now I couldn't even muster the energy.

I pushed her away calmly. "The thing is, Iris, I don't have any money left."

Iris froze, clearly not expecting that reaction from me. She expected me to scramble for solutions, to find some way to pay off her debts.

But within moments, fury swept across Iris' face.

"Jas, are you like everyone else now? Do you think I'm worthless too, that I'll never amount to anything?

"I knew it. I was wrong about you!"

She stormed out and slammed the door behind her. I watched her leave and understood exactly what she was doing. She wanted to force me into giving in.

But I didn't call after her. Instead, I pulled out my phone and blocked every way she had to contact me.

Then I picked up the IOU. There was no borrower listed, no debtor's fingerprint either. The thing was obviously fake, yet I'd fallen for it twice.

I laughed bitterly at myself and dialed the rental agent. "Hello, I need you to help me sublease the flower shop on Central Street."

I'd only opened the shop to support Iris in the first place. Now that I was done with her, there was no point keeping it running.

Besides, I was leaving anyway.

…

The next morning, I stayed home packing.

Looking around the cramped, dingy rental, I realized there wasn't much worth taking with me. There were birthday cards thrown out by a bakery, pretty rocks she'd picked up off the street, and a ring she'd twisted from paper scraps.

Iris had given me these things as surprises, but every time I opened one of her mystery gifts, she looked just as surprised as I did. In hindsight, the so-called presents were probably just random items she'd had someone gather up without even checking what they were.

The only decent gift she'd ever given me was a watch she'd bought from a street vendor for 80 dollars after her first business succeeded. I'd thought she was being wasteful and gotten upset with her over it.

But Iris just looked at me like I was amusing. She called me foolish and asked what would happen if she actually got rich someday and I still refused to spend money.

Back then, I thought she was worried about me. Now I realized she genuinely thought I was stupid.

Scrolling through the endless chat logs, I'd counted 517 times Iris called me stupid.

When I ran across three blocks to buy her favorite late-night snacks, she wrote about how stupid I was. When she had a fever and I gave her my only raincoat before carrying her to the hospital on my back, she said I was ridiculously stupid.

Even when I held her close and talked about our future together, she had to post in the group chat about it.

"Jasper is hopelessly stupid. He's this broke and still fantasizing about a future with me."

Even in plain text, I could hear the contempt and mockery behind those words. But it didn't matter anymore.

Iris Fulton wouldn't be part of my future from now on.

I kept packing, but when I finished, the large suitcase was still empty. The trash can, however, was full.

I took another look at the place I'd called home for two years. The wallpaper was peeling and stained with water damage. One of the chairs was missing a leg. The bed was just bricks and wooden planks stacked together.

When things were going better, I'd thought about fixing the place up properly. But Iris always refused. She said once we had money, we wouldn't live here anymore, so decorating would be pointless.

I'd believed every promise she made and stayed in this rundown place, stupidly waiting for them to come true. Thinking about it all made me feel hollow.

The agent called just as I was closing the suitcase.

"Mr. Kirk, I can't make decisions about subleasing the flower shop on my own. You'll need to negotiate with the landlord directly."

I arrived at the office building at 3:00 pm to meet the agent. Through a door left slightly ajar in the luxurious hallway, I caught sight of Iris.

She wore a beautiful dress and had her head lowered, fiddling with her phone. A man in an expensive suit stood beside her with his arm wrapped intimately around her waist.

I recognized him the moment I saw him.

Two days ago, the shop received an order for 999 roses. The customer specifically requested that we leave the thorns on, so I'd finished the entire arrangement with my hands covered in bloody welts.

When I'd taken a cab to deliver them personally, the recipient was this man, Lincoln Freeman.

A small card sat at the center of the bouquet, exactly as the customer had requested.

"To the love of my life, Lincoln. Signed, IF."

Only now did it hit me. "IF" stood for Iris Fulton.

Iris knew perfectly well that I needed the money too badly to turn down such a large order. So she'd made those demands on purpose, just to watch me dance to her tune.

I almost laughed through my tears at the realization.

After I'd gotten home that day, I'd been thrilled to tell Iris how much money I'd made. When she'd bandaged my wounds so tenderly, had she been laughing at me inside? Thinking what a joke I was?

I was wiping the tears from my eyes when the agent arrived.

Seeing me standing by the door, he asked in confusion, "Mr. Kirk, the landlord's inside. Why aren't you going in?"

I stared at him in shock, my eyes still wet. "What did you say? The landlord? Iris?"

The agent looked baffled. "Yeah. You didn't know? The entire stretch of Central Street belongs to Ms. Fulton."

I looked at Iris' figure in the distance. Painful memories I'd buried deep suddenly rushed to the surface.

After I'd paid off her debts the second time, I'd struggled to make ends meet for a long stretch. I couldn't even afford rent.

"Four or five thugs had crowded the flower shop entrance, demanding payment. They smashed every flower in the store and even stepped on my dog, ignoring his agonized yelps as they ground their boot into him.

Cooper had been with me for 12 years. He wasn't just a pet anymore. He was family, as important to me as Iris.

I'd dropped to my knees, begging them to let him go.

In three years of running the shop, I'd been shaken down for rent and protection money more times than I could count. But I'd never mentioned any of it to Iris. I didn't want to add to her stress.

But that time, I was terrified. I called her, sobbing so hard I could barely speak. "Iris, what do I do? Please save Cooper. Please save him..."

Iris knew how important Cooper was to me. But after a long silence, all she said was sorry. I watched helplessly as those men crushed Cooper to death.

I held him as he grew cold and stiff in my arms, exactly like my mother had when she died in my embrace all those years ago. I'd been just as powerless then.

Even after all that, I'd never hated Iris. I'd only blamed myself for being useless.

But now the truth stared me in the face. The landlord who'd sent those thugs after me was Iris. The person who could have saved him with a single word was her.

But she hadn't saved him. And Cooper was dead.

I clenched my jaw so hard it ached, trying to keep the anguish off my face. I ran out of the office building and flagged down a cab, telling the driver to take me to the airport.

In the car, my hands shook as I called my father. After 27 years, the only person I had left was the father I'd once refused to acknowledge.

"Dad, come get me now..."

…

Meanwhile, Iris walked out of the office with Lincoln and her group of friends. She kept her head down, staring at our chat window on her screen.

Two whole days had passed, and I hadn't sent her a single message.

Irritation prickled under her skin. She pulled out a cigarette, then remembered I hated the smell of smoke on her and put it away.

One of her friends came up behind her and glanced at the dark screen, barely concealing her glee. "What's wrong, Iris? Can't your plaything pay up this time? Is he done playing along?"

Annoyance flickered across Iris' face. She shoved her friend's arm away.

"Who said that? Jasper's crazy about me. He's probably out there right now scraping together money for me. Just wait. I'll ignore him for a few more days, and he'll come crawling back with the cash."

Just as she finished speaking, the agent who'd overheard my name approached her.

"Jasper Kirk? Ms. Fulton, you know Mr. Kirk? Perfect timing. He wants to sublease the flower shop, and I was worried you wouldn't agree."

Iris frowned. The unease that had been building in her chest for days suddenly felt like it was about to find an answer.

She forced herself to stay calm and asked casually, "The shop's doing fine. Why would he want to sublease it?"

The agent smiled politely, completely unaware of the weight behind his words. "Mr. Kirk said he's tired of running the shop. He's going home to get married."