Chapter 1
After my boyfriend Michael Foster and I agreed on the amount of the betrothal gift for the ninth time, his childhood friend Emily Carter came to him again, asking for a loan.
Not a penny more, not a penny less, exactly 33,000 dollars.
She'd borrowed it nine times, and our wedding had been postponed nine times.
But this time, I didn't back down. I stared him down and asked, "Are you going to marry me or not?"
Michael was quiet for a long time, but finally, he asked for the money back.
So I forgave him again.
But the night before our wedding, Emily posted something on her social media.
[I'm obsessed with my 33,000-dollar diamond ring! My childhood friend spoils me the most!]
I froze, then pulled out the money Michael had brought back and checked it carefully.
The next second, the counterfeit bills slipped from my hand and hit the floor.
I knew it. Our relationship was over for good.
*****
A wave of humiliation washed over me. I didn't hesitate. I sent Michael a message right away.
[We're done. The wedding's off.]
The next second, his call came through.
As soon as I picked up, Emily, started yelling at me.
"Lily, is money all you care about? Seriously, you're shameless! You won't marry him without the betrothal gift? You're just a gold-digger!"
Right after, someone in the background snickered, "Emily's the best. Michael should just marry her instead."
"Yeah, Emily's not materialistic at all. Even if Michael had nothing, she wouldn't complain one bit."
These people were Michael and Emily's childhood friends, and it wasn't the first time they'd shamelessly insulted me over the phone.
Emily was even more brazen; she kept telling everyone that my mom was basically auctioning me off.
She spread rumors online, making me out to be a gold-digger scamming guys for the betrothal gift.
Because of her, I got doxxed and harassed day and night for six whole months. Most nights, I'd end up sobbing alone at midnight.
But every single time, Michael and his friends would always take Emily's side.
They'd say she was just young and blunt, and tell me not to take it to heart.
But after putting up with it again and again, I was the only one who ever got hurt.
This time, I didn't get angry. I just said calmly, "Well, congratulations to you all."
The other end went dead silent. I didn't bother to say anything else and just hung up.
Then I started packing my things.
But I didn't expect that, less than half an hour later, Michael who usually came home in the middle of the night was already at the door.
He was holding a bouquet of carnations, acting like nothing was wrong, trying to tease me.
"Lily, these are for you," he said.
But I just stared at the carnations in front of me, my eyes burning red.
I hated carnations; they were my dad's mistress's favorite kind.
Back in elementary school, she would always come over with carnations just to spite my mom, driving her so crazy she'd end up hurting herself.
I'd told Michael over and over how much I hated them, but he still bought carnations anyway.
All because he was trying to please two women at once and carnations just happened to be Emily's favorite, too.
My palm was stabbed by the thorns, blood seeping out, but instead of crying, I suddenly laughed.
Michael relaxed and took a sip of water.
"Let's break up," I said.
The glass slipped from his hand and hit the floor with a sharp, clear crash.
"You're really breaking up with me over the 33,000-dollar betrothal gift?" Michael said, disbelief written all over his face.
If this had been before, I would've argued back, tried to make him see reason.
Why did Emily end up borrowing money, in the exact amount of the betrothal gift, nine times in one year?
And why was it always exactly 33,000 dollars every time?
And why did he stay silent every time they called me a gold-digger?
But now, I didn't even care to say anything anymore.
Just then, my cat came over to nuzzle me. I bent down to pick her up, worried she might step on the glass, but Michael, angry, rushed over and grabbed my hand.
I instinctively shook him off, but completely lost my balance and my palm pressed down hard onto the glass.
In just a few seconds, blood was already trickling down my fingers.
Michael's face turned grim. He grabbed my hand and rushed me straight to the hospital.
Michael's mom, Eleanor Foster, who was a nurse, frowned as she bandaged up my wound.
When she finished, she tossed the scissors into the metal tray with a loud clang.
"Lily, why are you causing trouble so late at night? Michael's been working all day, he's exhausted, and now he has to deal with you," Eleanor said.
"You're supposed to marry for love, not money. Gold-diggers never end up well, you know."
Seeing me stay silent, her anger flared even more. She blurted out, "Emily's so much better. If she were my daughter-in-law, she'd never..."
"Mom!"
Michael walked in after paying the bill and cut her off immediately.
It was no secret that Eleanor totally favored Emily.
At family dinners, she'd gush about how pretty Emily was, and how smart and sweet she acted, right in front of me.
She even handed Emily their family heirloom bracelet.
If I so much as asked a single question, they'd gang up on me right away.
"You're being way too petty. Don't be so narrow-minded. It's just a bracelet."
"Honestly, Emily's just prettier than you. What, you want us to pretend otherwise?"
They'd push me to tears, and then give me that smug, "See? We told you she was petty."
But honestly, it wasn't about the bracelet. I could buy ten of those if I wanted.
My parents were right that when it came to marriage, one really needed to be from the same world.