My boyfriend had racked up a considerable debt to pay for his mother's medical treatment. To pay it off, we worked regular jobs during the day and took on side hustles at night and on weekends. That night, I was dressed up like a ghost, hiding in the corner of a haunted house attraction, waiting to jump out and scare the next group of customers, just like we rehearsed.
Soon, a disheveled couple stumbled in, locked in a passionate kiss. The woman called out her boyfriend's name with a coy tone, "Howard, be gentle! You just bought me this limited-edition lingerie; are you going to tear it up again so soon? You've already ripped seven today and messed up my makeup. I still need to go to the hotel tonight for your mother's birthday."
At first, I thought it was just a crazy coincidence. After all, Howard's mother was in a coma and still lying in the hospital. However, the man soon looked up and spotted me. Without a word, he threw a warm, lacy pair of panties and a wad of cash right at my face. "Shut your damn eyes and get out!"
I felt something warm trickle down my forehead, but I was frozen in place. It was because that voice belonged to none other than my boyfriend of three years.
——
"Freya, what are you still doing there? Don't disturb Mr. Garcia and his girlfriend's romance. Hurry up and get out!" The manager's urgent voice came through my earpiece, urging me to leave. Only then did I snap out of my daze. I quickly gathered the props on the ground. I awkwardly fled the dimly lit secret room, the sound of amorous whispers trailing behind me.
When I reached the front desk, I instinctively looked down at what I was carrying. Among the plastic props and fake blood were that pair of lace panties and the thick wad of cash. It looked like at least $3000, all brand-new bills. No wonder it cut my forehead.
Suppose only that money hadn't been thrown at me during sex between my boyfriend and another woman. In that case, I might've actually been happy. I might've even taken a photo and sent it to Howard. [Howard, look! We've got enough for your mom's medicine this month. You don't have to work so hard anymore.]
But now ... Mr. Garcia? This unfamiliar title, was this really the same person who used to split every penny in half to pay for his mother's treatment, who huddled with me in our rented room eating instant noodles and who promised me happiness? If the woman inside was his girlfriend, then what was I? The things in my arms slipped and fell to the ground with a thud.
"Mr. Garcia is really something! His first love just got back to the country and he's already going wild, throwing money and panties like it's nothing. Those panties alone go for over a thousand dollars a pair and he tears through them like paper. He must have gone through dozens in the past few days, right? Isn't he afraid his Cinderella will find out and get angry?"
"What's there to be afraid of? Mr. Garcia has plenty of money. Besides, what if that poor girl finds out? Megan dumped him and went abroad three years ago. Mr. Garcia acted out of spite when he got together with her for a bit of fun. Now that Megan is back, what does she matter? It's been tough for that man to play the poor guy for three years."
"Who asked our Howard to be such a romantic since he was little? He vowed he would only marry Megan. He swore his money would only be spent on Megan; no other woman could ever dream of it. That idiot Freya actually believed his lies, foolishly working everywhere to help him pay off his debts and save his mother. Haha."
These words crashed into my ears like thunder, making my internal organs ache. They stared at the monitor with knowing and excited expressions. Following their gaze, my breath hitched. Under the night-vision camera, Howard pressed himself tightly against that woman. He kissed her like he couldn't breathe, like he was desperate to devour her whole, letting out all the longing he had held in for so long.
