Chapter 2

After that, I didn't run into Vincent again.

With the savings I'd scraped together over the past couple of years, I bought myself a big open-plan place in an upscale neighborhood.

I hired a financial advisor to handle the rest of my cash.

I kept a low profile and hardly ever went out, let alone order takeout.

One day, after my prenatal checkup, I walked out of the hospital.

To my surprise, I spotted Vincent's long-time crush, Selena, slipping into the back seat of a Maybach.

My inner gossip queen couldn't resist, so I followed her in my Mercedes.

I watched as the car rolled into an ultra-exclusive luxury estate.

Damn, that's wild.

Wait, was Vincent getting cheated on? The realization hit me like a slap

My nosiness hit a new level, so I camped out in my car until nightfall, just waiting to finally see the Maybach pull out again.

I tailed it once more.

This time, the car stopped downtown. Selena hopped out and grabbed a cab by the curb.

Couldn't help myself, I followed her again.

This time, I tracked her to a beat-up old apartment complex.

Selena got out, slipped inside, and disappeared upstairs.

No doubt about it, this was Vincent and Selena's new place.

It was a far cry from the mansion he used to live in.

The whole place stank of mold and that musty, old-apartment funk.

I let out a sigh.

At half past midnigh, a rattling electric scooter pulled up outside the building.

"Vincent," I called out, leaning against my car.

"Lynn?" he looked surprised as he walked over. "How did you know I live here?"

I didn't answer. Instead, I just threw him a hint.

"Maybe you should be a little nicer to Selena," I said.

But he clearly didn't get it, just held up the plastic bag in his hand.

"Hey, I'm good to her! Every day when I'm out doing my delivery runs, if I snag any leftover meals, I always bring them back for her," he countered, with a hint of defensive pride

I glanced at the plastic bag in his hand, at the bowl of pasta in sauce that looked like it had been run over by a truck.

Then I looked back at him.

I couldn't help but give him that 'are you crazy?' look.

"Guess I'm just being nosy," I said.

I let out a dry laugh and made a quick exit.

Honestly, I'm starting to think Vincent's been body-snatched or something ever since he lost all his money.

Yeah, better keep my distance, I wouldn't want my kid picking up any of his weird habits.

But I never saw it coming. While I was busy minding my own business, Selena actually showed up at my door.

She knocked and demanded I pay her back.

She looked me up and down and said, "Vincent's broke as hell, but you seem to be living it up."

She strolled right in, didn't even bother with her shoes, and flopped onto my couch, scoping out the place like she owned it.

Selena pressed. "Didn't he give you one million dollars before he went bankrupt?

"Do you have any idea how deep in debt he is now?

"If you have any decency, you'd pay him back."

Without a second thought, I called Vincent no small talk, just straight to the point.

"Vincent, did you put Selena up to coming after me for money?" I asked, not beating around the bush.

There was a brief pause on the other end.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low.

"Wait, Selena came to you? I didn't know anything about that," he said.

"Where are you right now? I'll come pick her up."

When Vincent arrived, he was still wearing his delivery guy uniform.

He even asked if I had any shoe covers he could use.

I waved him off, "Don't bother, just get her out of here."

But Vincent insisted, "I remember how particular you are about this, I'll put them on anyway."

Selena let out a bitter scoff, clearly pissed.

"You don't need to come in. I can see myself out," she said, brushing him off.

She grabbed her bag and, as she walked past him, her voice trembled with sadness as she called him out,

"Vincent, when you're so wiped out at home that you crash onto the bed with your shoes still on, or leave your socks lying everywhere. Have you ever thought about me the way you think about Lynn?"

With that, she ran off, choking back sobs.

I leaned against the doorway, arms folded, exchanging awkward glances with Vincent. Neither of us knew what to say.

After a long, uncomfortable silence, I finally sighed and said, "Seriously, you need to pay more attention to hygiene."

Vincent turned back from the hallway, giving me a weary, conflicted smile.

"Lynn, these days I'm just too worn out to care about the little things," he said.

I let out a sigh.

Didn't I say it? I'm really scared of being poor.

Even Vincent, that classy, golden man, started letting his hygiene slide the moment he lost his money.

Still, I can't help but feel like Vincent's been acting kinda weird lately.

Maybe it's just my pregnancy brain making me overthink everything.

The next day, I transferred forty grand to Vincent's bank account.

With a note: [This is a one-time thing.]

Being soft-hearted is way too expensive.

If I keep worrying about everyone else, who's gonna look out for me, a single mom?

After the transfer, I checked my bank balance and finally felt at ease enough to take a nap.

But ever since Vincent knew where I lived, things haven't been quite the same.