My Boyfriend Put Me on Sale

The moment I sent the message, my phone rang. It was Billy.

I swiped to answer but said nothing.

His voice came through, edged with impatience, laced now with a hint of panic.

"Kat? Why do you suddenly want to meet? Didn't we agree that once things are stable on my end, I'd come find you?"

I listened to his well-rehearsed lies, and inside me, everything fell silent.

"I just… suddenly miss you," I said, forcing my voice into something fragile. "I got chewed out by my boss today. When I came home, it was cold and empty—there wasn't a single person here. Billy, I can't do this anymore. I don't care—I just want to see you. I want to see you now. I've already bought a ticket for tomorrow. Send me your address."

Silence fell on the other end.

He was thinking—scrambling for a way out.

A full thirty seconds passed before he spoke again, his tone softening.

"Be good, Kat. Listen to me. I know you've been wronged. It's all my fault—I'm useless, I can't be there for you."

He switched to emotional manipulation.

"My project is at a critical stage right now. I have to be on call 24/7—I really can't get away. And I'm sharing a place with coworkers. It's cramped and messy. If you come, it'll be so inconvenient for you."

"It doesn't matter," I cut in, seizing on his words and pressing forward, leaving him no room to retreat. "No matter how messy it is, I don't care. I'm not afraid of hardship. I don't want anything. I just want to see you with my own eyes—even once is enough."

He was about to come up with another excuse. I drew a sharp breath and interrupted him.

"Billy, I'll ask you one last time. Are we meeting or not?"

My sudden firmness caught him off guard. He choked, unable to respond.

I didn't give him time to think.

"If you refuse again, we're done."

Panic broke through immediately.

"Don't! Kat, don't say that! That's not what I meant! How could I want to break up? I just… I just don't want you to feel wronged!"

I listened in cold silence. I knew he wasn't afraid of losing me. He was afraid of losing his source of money. So he had no choice but to give in.

"Fine, fine—you win. You're impossible, you know that? Come. I'll send you the address. But just one meeting—you can't interfere with my work."

"Mm," I answered softly, adding a faint nasal tone, obedient.

After hanging up, I stared at the darkening screen of my phone. My reflection stared back—pale, bloodless.

A few minutes later, my phone chimed. A message came through with an address.

It was a street name and number I didn't recognize at all.

Maybe it was somewhere he had casually picked to brush me off. Or maybe… another trap.

Either way, I had to go.

I looked at the address, took a deep breath, and replied: [I'll be there tomorrow.]

When I set my phone down, a chill had already spread through my entire body.

Before leaving, I scrolled through my contacts and found a name I hadn't reached out to in almost a year.

Jamie Rowan. My brother.

Things between him and the family had always been strained. Aside from the occasional like on my social media posts, we barely spoke.

I sent him a long voice message, detailing my "online relationship" over the past year—every doubt I had, and everything I had just discovered.

At the end, I attached the address Billy had sent me.

After it went through, I typed one last line: [Jamie, if I don't contact you again before noon tomorrow, call the police for me.]