Right now I don't even have a hundred dollars on me.
Where am I supposed to scrape together $280,000 to pay Wyatt back?
I stood frozen in place, the hand clutching the payment slip ice-cold.
The girl next to me, still watching a concert replay, let out an envious sigh.
"Oh my god, the way Mr. Sanchez looks at his girlfriend—it's practically dripping with love. He's so into her. This is literally a real-life CEO romance!"
"I know, right? I heard today's her birthday. She mentioned wanting to see her favorite idol live, and Mr. Sanchez just... threw money at it. Got the idol to put on a private concert just for her. I'm so jealous."
"But doesn't Mr. Sanchez have a wife? Like, legally married?"
"So what? For rich guys, juggling a wife and a mistress is totally normal. Besides, his wife's just a gold digger. Women like her only care about money, not love. She probably doesn't even care how many women he has on the side."
Wyatt and I were supposed to be a fairy tale come true.
He was the eldest grandson of the prestigious Sanchez family. The only heir.
And me? My family was ordinary. I had a mom who'd been bedridden for years and needed constant care.
Not long after we got together, I told him everything about my situation. I thought he'd be like everyone else—that once he heard about my mom, he'd start pulling away.
But he didn't.
He just held my hand, his eyes full of heartache, and said in a trembling voice, "You've been carrying all this alone for so long. From now on, I'll be with you."
He told me: Alice, no matter where you go or what you do, don't forget—I'm right behind you.
Back then, everyone said meeting Wyatt was the luckiest thing that ever happened to me.
I believed it too.
Back then, no one could have predicted it. The wedding I'd been dreaming of wouldn't just brand me as a gold digger—a label I could never tear off—it would also drain away every last drop of his love for me.
Even now, I still remember.
After I got that money, I rushed in a panic to pay for my mom's surgery. But her attending doctor's tone suddenly shifted—no longer urgent, just calm and measured.
"Ms. Henson, your mother doesn't have any problems at all. Everything just now was a test from Mrs. Sanchez. She wanted to see whether you're actually qualified to be the next Mrs. Sanchez."
"She asked me to tell you that she's not very satisfied with your performance. If you want to keep your position secure, you'll need to do better."
"Also, Mrs. Sanchez will arrange a better medical team for your mother going forward. But she has one condition—she hopes you'll keep your mouth shut about this."
Because of Amelia Sanchez's veiled threats, I didn't dare gamble with my mom's life. No matter how badly Wyatt misunderstood me, I never told him the truth.
But when I found out he was cheating—when I saw that bright, beautiful girl by his side—I still lost it. I made a scene.
I grabbed his clothes, crying so hard I could barely breathe. Over and over, I begged him: "Wyatt, please—can you not do this to me?"
His face stayed ice-cold. Not a flicker of softness.
He pried my fingers off, one by one.
"Alice Henson." His voice was flat, deadly calm. "The day of the wedding, when you raised the price and trampled my family's dignity under your feet—you died in my heart."
"Right now, you're nothing but a woman I bought with money. What right do you have to make demands of me?"
After that, he stopped hiding it.
The women by his side changed constantly.
The bottle of sleeping pills I kept in my nightstand grew lighter and lighter.
