Chapter 4

The next morning, I was jolted awake by a phone call.

It was an unknown number.

I picked up. "Hello?"

"Emily, it's me."

It was Ryan.

I paused for a moment, then sat up.

"Did you get a new number?" I asked.

"Yeah, I don't use the old one anymore."

"What do you want?"

"I left my phone at your place. I'll come by and pick it up today."

I glanced at the phone sitting on the coffee table.

"What time?" I asked.

"Ten okay?"

"Sure."

"See you then."

He hung up.

I sat on the bed, staring out the window.

It was already bright outside.

Sunlight flooded in, almost blinding me.

I got up, freshened up, and grabbed a quick breakfast.

Then I sat on the couch and waited.

At 9:55, the doorbell rang.

I walked over and opened the door.

Ryan. Black T-shirt, jeans, sneakers.

Everything he had on—I'd paid for it.

"Come on in," I said.

He walked in and glanced around the living room.

"Where's my phone?" he asked.

"Here."

I picked up the phone from the coffee table and held it out.

He reached for it.

But I kept my grip.

"Ryan, I need to ask you something."

Ryan blinked, clearly surprised. "What?"

"Why are you breaking up with me?"

He was quiet for a moment.

"It's just not working."

"What's not working?"

"We're not a good fit."

"Just say it straight."

"Emily, we're adults. Do we really need a reason to break up?"

"Yeah, we do." I looked him right in the eye. "You owe me a reason."

Ryan looked away. "There's nothing to say."

"Then tell me—who's Sophia from work?"

His face went white. "Did you go through my phone?"

"Yeah."

"What right did you have?"

"You left it here, so I looked. What's the problem?"

"That's my privacy!"

"Privacy?" I laughed. "Ryan, you've been cheating for a year, spent 40 thousand dollars on another woman, and now you want to talk about privacy?"

Ryan's face went even paler. "You... you saw everything?"

"Yeah. All of it."

I threw the phone at him.

"Forty-seven transfers. Forty thousand dollars. Two hundred and fifteen message screenshots. Sixty-seven photos. I saved every single one."

He caught it, hands shaking. "Emily, let me explain—"

"Don't bother." I sat back down. "Right now, I just want to ask you one thing."

"What?"

"I spent 50 thousand on you in the last three years. How are you going to pay me back?"

He froze. "Fifty grand? What are you talking about?"

"Nineteen thousand two hundred for rent. Twenty-four thousand for living expenses. Six thousand eight hundred for stuff I bought you. That's 50 thousand, Ryan."

"But... you wanted to spend it on me."

"Yeah, I did." I stared at him. "But you lied, cheated, and spent my money on the other woman. That's fraud."

"I didn't!"

"Really?"

I pulled out my phone, opened my photos, and showed him the transfer records.

"November 2024 to October 2025. You sent Sophia 47 payments—40 grand total. Was that money yours?"

Ryan went silent.

"You make three grand a month. After deductions, you take home barely over two. So tell me—where did that 40 grand come from?"

Ryan gritted his teeth. "Emily, don't go too far."

"Going too far?"

I couldn't help but laugh.

"Ryan, you're the one who went too far. You cheated, you lied, you blew my money on your mistress, and now you're saying I'm out of line?"

"That's between me and her. Nothing to do with you!"

"Nothing to do with me?"

I stood up and walked right up to him.

"Ryan, did you forget? Who paid your bills those two years I was studying? Who cooked you dinner every night while I was up late cramming? Who took care of you when you were sick? And now you want to tell me this has nothing to do with me?"

Ryan turned away, refusing to meet my eyes. "Emily, I don't want to fight."

"I don't want to fight either." I stepped back. "I just want my money back."

"Not happening."

"What?"

"I said, not happening." He met my eyes. "I already spent it. There's nothing left."

"Seriously? You're broke?"

"Yeah, I got nothing."

"Ryan, you make three grand a month. You should have tens of thousands saved by now."

"No savings. Not a dime."

"Who are you kidding?"

"I'm telling you, I don't have any." He threw his hands up. "My mom got sick—hospital cost me 30 grand. My dad wanted a new car—I pitched in 20 thousand. I still have to live. Where am I supposed to get savings?"

I looked at him, and it suddenly hit me.

"So you cheated on me because I ran out of money, didn't you?"

Ryan stayed silent.

"Those two years I was studying with no income, you went looking for a rich woman."

"Emily, don't go making wild accusations."

"Making things up?"

I pulled up a screenshot on my phone.

"May 20th, 2025. You sent Sophia two grand with 'Happy birthday, baby.' That was my birthday too. How much did you send me?"

Ryan stayed silent.

"Seventy," I said, staring him down. "You sent me 70 and claimed you were short on cash, but then you sent her two grand right after."

"That's because..."

"Because what?"

"Because she actually cares about me!" Ryan suddenly yelled.

"She cooks for me every day, hangs out with me, plays games, never nags! But you? All you ever do is study. Whenever I try to talk, you act like I'm bothering you!"

I froze. "So you're blaming me for studying?"

"That's not what I mean."

"Then what are you trying to say?"

"I just don't think... we're right for each other," he sighed. "Emily, let's break up. End things on good terms."

"Good terms?" I laughed.

"Ryan, you cheated, you lied, you spent my money on another woman, you even took the furniture I paid for—and now you want to talk about ending things peacefully?"

"So what do you want?"

"I want my money back."

"I told you, I don't have any money."

"Then I'll sue you."

He froze. "What did you say?"

"I said, I'm suing you." I locked eyes with him. "Civil fraud. I want my 80 grand back."

"Eighty grand?"

"Fifty thousand for you, plus 30 thousand for the furniture and appliances you took. Eighty grand total."

"Are you out of your mind?"

"I'm not." I walked over to the door and opened it. "You can go now."

He stood there, staring at me. "Emily, are you serious?"

"Dead serious."

"You're really going to sue me?"

"Yes."

He suddenly laughed. "Go ahead. Sue me. Let's see what you actually get."

With that, he grabbed his phone and turned to leave.

At the threshold, he glanced back. "Emily, you'll regret this."

"No. You'll be the one with regrets."

I closed the door.

Leaning against it, I took a deep breath.

No regrets.

I couldn't believe I'd wasted three years on the wrong person.

But that was okay.

At least now I was finally awake.