Around us, the stares turned hungry.
A hundred grand. Not a fortune, but far from small change either.
I'd kept it tucked close on purpose, exactly so no one would notice.
And now Moira had gone and shaken it out into the open.
"I'm talking to you. Are you deaf?"
Her voice kept drilling into me.
Beside her, Gilbert's smug expression drained away the moment he saw the money.
Which made sense. Even a big plant manager like him only pulled in a bit over a hundred thousand a year.
"Where did you get all this?"
Gilbert stepped forward and looked down at me from above.
The air he carried from all those years playing petty boss at the factory came seeping out, pressing down on me bit by bit.
My heart gave an instinctive flinch.
Then, once it registered, the taste in my mouth turned bitter.
That reflex was Moira's doing too.
Back when she first met Gilbert, she was always running me down in front of him.
Once, on Gilbert's birthday, to win him over, Moira faked being drunk at midnight and called me over.
By the time I got there, Gilbert's men had me cornered, and I was forced to down a whole bottle of high-proof whiskey.
And that wasn't enough.
To feed Gilbert's ego, Moira demanded that I kneel on the ground and call him big brother.
I refused, so she told the others to hold my head down and force me.
That left a small scar on me. It was the first time Moira and I ever had a real, blazing fight, and for a moment I thought about walking away for good.
When she found out, she did something she almost never did—she came to my place, cried in front of me, apologized over and over.
She said:
I only wanted you to look good in front of Gilbert, so he'd give you a hand, help you get out of this poor little place.
Every word, all of it framed as if she'd been thinking of me.
She cried so pitifully.
And with my head full of that lovesick fog, in the end I forgave her.
But back then it never once occurred to me.
Give in once, and you hand people a thousand more chances to trample your dignity.
That Moira could treat me like this today—
when it came down to it, I'd brought it on myself.
But I would never give her that chance again.
I ignored what they were saying and picked the bills up off the ground, one by one, stuffing them back into my pocket.
The pharmacy owner couldn't stand to watch, and since I was a big customer, he came over and handed me a tube of ointment.
"Put some on. The cut's going to get infected otherwise."
I lowered my head and only then saw that my hand was already swollen and red.
All thanks to Moira.
"Lucius, if you don't dare answer me, it wouldn't be because you stole this money, would it?"
I drew a deep breath and turned to face her.
After one thing on top of another, I understood—if I didn't set this straight today, I wasn't getting out of here.
I looked at her and said, cold and flat,
"Where my money comes from is none of your business. You're overstepping quite a bit, aren't you?"
"And another thing—you did this to my hand. I could call the police. I'm advising you to keep your distance and stop pushing me."
Moira froze.
My expression today clearly wasn't anything she'd expected.
She scanned me up and down, and a flash of panic shot through her eyes.
"Lucius, back then when you said we were breaking up—you meant it?"
"What did you think? Did you really imagine I still had all this time to keep circling around you, Miss Henson?"
I curled my lip in a sneer.
"Impossible!"
Moira's voice climbed louder.
"You used to fawn over me every single day! There's no way you'd break up just like that. Let me tell you, playing hard to get doesn't work on me!"
My gaze dropped to her arm, still trying to stay looped through Gilbert's, and the mockery in my eyes went thicker.
I honestly didn't get it.
How she could be so shameless, playing two men at once without a shred of guilt.
Moira caught where I was looking, and her face turned uneasy.
Without thinking, she let go of Gilbert's arm.
Gilbert shot her a glance but said nothing.
Out in public, it seemed they still wanted to save a little face.
After all, Gilbert had been married a long time now—his kid was already three.
The old me was blinded by love. Even knowing all this was wrong, I never once exposed it in front of anyone.
Even when everyone assumed I was the third party, I never said a word.
But now, I was done holding it in.
She'd lost any right to make me keep protecting her.
"Moira, you've hung off other men right in front of me, more than once. If I don't break up with you, what am I supposed to do—keep you around for the holidays?"
