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I Stopped Being Their Cash Cow, Now They're Begging Novel Cover

I Stopped Being Their Cash Cow, Now They're Begging

For a year, she worked grueling overtime, keeping only two hundred dollars of her monthly salary while sending the rest to support her unemployed boyfriend, Tristram Henson, and her best friend, Naomi Sullivan. But her sacrifices are met with mockery when she discovers they privately label her a loyal pet who funds their lives. Heartbroken and furious, she screenshots the $260,000 in total transfers and demands full repayment within three days. The free ride is officially over.
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Chapter 4

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

Along with the confirmation that my plane ticket had gone through came a message from my mother.

"Does Tristram know about you going to Southport?"

I typed with my head down.

"Not yet."

There was a pause on her end, then a location pin came through.

"Your dad and I set up a dinner with the Hensons tomorrow night. All of us together."

"Did you and Tristram have a fight? Whatever's going on between you two, work it out face to face. Don't bottle it up."

I agreed.

Everything had to come to an end sometime, and it had to be done in person.

When I got back, Naomi was standing at my door, a cake box in her hand.

The second I opened the door, she squeezed her way in behind me.

She set down what she was carrying and looked around the place.

"Why's it suddenly so empty in here?"

I tossed the last bit of clutter into the trash and didn't pour her a glass of water the way I usually did.

"Had some free time, so I cleaned up a little."

She opened the box on the table, revealing the cake inside.

Only half of it was left.

"You left in such a hurry yesterday, you never even got to try the cake."

The workmanship was rough. One look and you could tell it was homemade.

There was a crooked letter J written on top, and though the other half had been cut away, it wasn't hard to make out half of an S.

Naomi cut a slice and handed it to me.

"Go on, taste it. I baked it myself."

"Tristram said it was delicious."

I took a small bite. The frosting was so sweet it turned bitter.

Tristram had never touched sweets like this before. He always said they were for silly little girls, beneath a man of his taste.

In the silence, Naomi lowered her eyes, her voice trembling a little.

"Ellie, I'm pregnant."

It hit me like a hammer coming down hard, and my mind went blank.

The fork slipped from my hand and clattered into the plate.

I could barely keep my expression under control.

"Whose is it?"

Naomi buried her face in her hands, her voice muffled.

"My boyfriend's."

Cold-faced, I dumped the rest of the cake into the trash.

"When did you two get together? Why didn't you tell me right away?"

"I wanted to wait until things were more settled before saying anything. One thing led to another, and here we are."

She took my hand and pulled me down to sit beside her.

"Next time I'll get him to come out and eat with us, so you two can meet."

"Do you think…"

She hesitated.

"Should I keep the baby?"

I pulled my hand out of her grip. I had no idea what Naomi was getting at.

Coming to me, carrying Tristram's child, to ask that question. Was it a provocation, or was she trying to corner me?

"Something this big, you have to decide for yourself."

I said it openly enough, but a thread of bitterness leaked out of me, beyond my control.

Naomi gave a small laugh.

"You're right. I'm just impatient, that's all. I wanted to hear what you thought."

"But I have a feeling I'll have my answer by tonight."

The door shut behind her, and I threw myself back onto the bed.

I closed my eyes, and everything from the past few days flickered through my mind.

That evening, I went to the restaurant at the appointed time.

The elevator doors slid shut, showing my face in the mirror, drawn and tired in a way no makeup could hide.

When I walked into the private room, Mr. and Mrs. Swanson Henson were already seated inside.

I greeted each of them.

Mrs. Henson glanced at me and lifted her chin slightly, which passed for a response.

When her eyes landed on my clothes, washed pale from too many cycles, she frowned.

"Tristram mentioned your salary isn't very high. Now that I see you today, I can tell it's true."

"Can't even afford a single decent outfit."

She turned her wrist, letting the jade bracelet on it slip into view as if by accident.

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