Now He Begs for Me Back

Several days had gone by since Matthew stormed into my apartment, furious over the viral post. Yet, not once had he bothered to reach out to check on me after that. It was clear. He didn’t care.

That realization hit me like a slap, a harsh truth I could no longer ignore. I had wasted years of my life, sacrificing my own happiness for someone who wouldn’t even make sure I was okay.

I let my eyes wander to the television, where the muted screen flickered with the usual noise. I hadn’t bothered turning up the volume—it was always the same. Matthew and Debbie, their movie, their scandal, and the endless ripple effect from it all. But today, something caught my attention.

I reached for the remote, my heart racing as I turned the volume up, eager to hear the latest. The reporter’s voice filled the quiet space, and I listened intently.

"Breaking news: Matthew Flores and Debbie Pearson’s highly anticipated movie has flopped at the box office, with both critics and audiences turning away amidst the escalating scandal."

I leaned forward, my grip tightening on the remote as the broadcast continued.

"The backlash has been swift. Fans are accusing Matthew of deceiving them, while Debbie has been harshly criticized for her involvement in the rumored affair. Major endorsement deals have been withdrawn, and sources close to Debbie suggest she’s struggling to cope with the public fallout."

A photo of Matthew and Debbie appeared on screen, both looking visibly distressed. The words continued to pour in, a steady stream of betrayal and scandal.

"In a recent interview, Matthew Flores denied the pregnancy rumors, calling them a ‘baseless attack on my character.’ He added, ‘If the woman behind this has any proof, she should come forward and stop hiding behind a screen trying to destroy my career.’"

I couldn’t hold back the bitter laugh that escaped me. Baseless? Proof? They wanted proof?

Fine. I would give them proof.

Hours passed as I sat at my desk, typing the article that would expose everything.

I began with the truth.

"My name is Jillian Brennan, heiress to the Brennan Corporation. For five years, I kept my relationship with actor Matthew Flores a secret, hidden from the public eye due to his contract restrictions. During that time, I supported him in every way I could, sacrificing my own dreams and career to help him achieve his goals."

I attached the photos—ones he thought would never see the light of day. Pictures of us together: laughing over private dinners, walking hand in hand, and a few candid moments he never realized I had captured.

I included the receipts: the pregnancy test, the car keys I had planned to give him, everything.

Then I laid bare his lies.

"Recently, I discovered that Matthew had been using me for years, intending to discard me once he had achieved his goals. His public relationship with Debbie Pearson was nothing but a betrayal. He promised me love while secretly plotting to replace me. I’ve attached recordings and messages that prove his true intentions."

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the screen. The evidence was undeniable.

With a final breath, I pressed “publish.”

The article spread like wildfire.

Within minutes, my phone began buzzing non-stop—headlines popping up, social media feeds flooded with comments, and news outlets all across the board picking up the story.

“Jillian Brennan Exposes Matthew Flores!”

“Brennan Corporation Heiress Breaks Silence on Five-Year Relationship with Matthew Flores!”

“Scandal Deepens: Proof of Betrayal and Lies!”

The public’s reaction was immediate and unforgiving.

“I always knew Matthew was shady!”

“This poor woman, used and abandoned—he thought he could get away with it.”

“Matthew and Debbie deserve each other—both liars caught red-handed.”

I sat back and watched as the chaos erupted around me, the storm I had set in motion.

Then, my phone rang. It was Matthew’s name flashing across the screen.

I ignored it.

It rang again. Then a third time.

Finally, I answered, my voice cold and unyielding. “What do you want?”

“Jillian, what the hell is wrong with you?” His voice was a mix of fury and disbelief. “Why would you do this? Why would you lie like that?”

“Lie?” I replied, a sarcastic edge creeping into my tone. “What exactly did I lie about, Matthew? The photos? The messages? Or the fact that you were planning to dispose of me once you started your own agency?”

There was a long pause, the silence thick with tension before he spoke again, his voice shaking with anger. “You have no idea what you’ve done! You’ve destroyed my career! Do you understand that? Do you even care?”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Care? Matthew, you didn’t care about me for five years. You used me, lied to me, and then flaunted your relationship with Debbie like I didn’t even exist. So no, I don’t care about your career.”

“You didn’t have to do this,” he said, trying to reason with me.

“And let you walk away scot-free?” I shot back, my voice cutting through the air. “Not a chance.”

He took a shaky breath. “Jillian, please. We can fix this. I’ll make it right. Just take the article down.”

Before he could continue, I said, “Enjoy your downfall,” and ended the call, blocking his number for good.