My Boyfriend Won 5 Million

I had gone back in time—just a few years, but enough to change everything.

Back then, Fred, my boyfriend, played me like a fiddle, turning me into his family's personal maid. He lied about the lottery ticket I bought, saying it only won a small prize when he actually pocketed the winning ticket and cashed in the jackpot—so he could marry his dream girl.

But now, I was back, and I was not the clueless, lovesick girl he used to manipulate. Fred was trying to pull his old tricks, sweet-talking me into handing over another lottery ticket, but this time, I knew exactly what he was up to.

***

"Acacia, let's buy a couple of lottery tickets. My coworker just hit it big, and I've got a good feeling about this! Trust me, we'll win for sure this time!" Fred grinned as he confidently punched in his numbers at the lottery machine.

"If we win and you get rich, does that mean you'll finally marry me?" I asked, playing along while gauging his reaction.

"Absolutely! If I win five million dollars, I'll give you the wedding of your dreams and make you the happiest bride in the world. Who wouldn't love you?"

He sounded so convincing, and if I hadn't already seen his true colors, I might've fallen for his smooth talk all over again.

A few years ago, my lottery ticket actually won five million dollars. Fred acted like it was nothing, but behind my back, he swapped the ticket and cashed in the prize. I was so oblivious, working three jobs just to save up for our little future together.

But all that money I busted my butt for? It went straight into buying designer bags for his perfect little girlfriend.

While I was breaking my back taking care of him and his mom, he was just treating me like his unpaid housekeeper.

Now that I had got a second chance, Fred's standing in front of me, spinning the same old lies, and it was making me sick to my stomach.

"What's wrong, Acacia? You look a little off. Do you want to head home and rest?"

Fred had always been good at playing the concerned boyfriend, constantly checking in on me. It was how he got me in the first place.

If I hadn't been through all this before, I'd still believe he was a great guy—the kind you could trust with your heart.

But now, I saw it all for what it was. Fred was just putting on a show, and honestly, his acting skills were better than most Hollywood stars'.

"I'm fine, really. I just got a little caught up thinking about our future," I said, forcing a smile and trying not to give myself away.

"Don't worry, Acacia. I'll make sure you have the life you deserve," he promised, like it was a guarantee.

We paid for the tickets and strolled down the street.

Before, whenever we passed a nice dress or purse, Fred would always say, "One day, when I've got money, I'll get that for you."

Now I finally saw the truth: his love was nothing more than empty promises.

He was a pro at selling dreams, even better than my boss at work.