He Left Me for a Richer Bride

Without hesitation, I slapped him.

Adrian froze, disbelief flashing across his face as if my hand had cut the air. He had always treated me like the gentlest person he knew; the idea that I could raise a hand at him seemed impossible to him.

“What—are you crazy?” His frown deepened and his voice climbed a register. Anger darkened his features as he stared at me, incredulous.

I met his gaze, every nerve raw. “I’m going crazy.”

That only inflamed him more. He pressed his thumb against his forehead, turned away for a second as if to steady himself, then jabbed his hand toward me. “She’s just a salesperson—why would you hit her? Don’t you know how important face is to a woman? If she calls the police, you’ll be fined 15,000 dollars for that slap!”

“Then let her call me,” I said.

His eyes narrowed, disgust and impatience in equal measure. “I don’t have time for this. Serena, you’re becoming unreasonable.” With that he slammed the door and left.

I felt oddly calm, but the tears wouldn’t stop. The man who’d once unnerved me because he mistook my quiet for weakness had finally shown his true colors. After seven years, all I walked away with was a single suitcase.

I paused in the living room I’d spent years arranging, imagining Miranda stepping into my shoes and erasing every trace of me. I could be petty and tear the place apart, or I could be lazy and let her have it. I chose laziness. Let her have him.

I moved into the small house I’d bought two years earlier. This was mine — I wasn’t running away forever.

Just as I folded the last shirt, my phone buzzed. Damien Korrigan. “Serena, I just woke up and saw your message. I’m overseas,” he said, apologizing for the delay because of the time difference. His voice was bright and shaky with excitement; I could hear him grinning through the line.

“Are you serious?” he asked, almost breathless. “You really mean you’ll keep the ten-year promise if we’re both single?”

“Yes.” I didn’t hesitate.

He laughed aloud. “I’ve got about two more months of work overseas. After that I’ll fly back and we’ll get the marriage certificate together. Deal?”

“Deal.” We talked for a long time until he had to go.

No sooner had I hung up than a bank notification popped up: 15,000 dollars had been transferred from my account.

Only Adrian knew all my passwords. We had no financial secrets. I called him, voice sharp. “Why did you take 15,000 dollars from me?”

“You slapped Miranda,” he said flatly. “That money’s compensation for her. I know you won’t apologize, but she can’t take a slap for nothing. You’ll be embarrassed if she calls the police. I’m doing this for your own good.”

As he spoke, Miranda’s coquettish voice chimed in on his end: “I just got out of the shower. Should I wear the nurse uniform or the student uniform today?” He cut the call off quickly, the guilty silence obvious.

My whole body trembled with fury. I texted him: “Return the money in one day, or I’ll call the police.”