The Day He Let Me Go, I Let Him Go Forever

Serena stood at the foot of the stairs in a simple white dress, so fragile it hurt to look at her.

When her eyes found me, she smiled sweetly. "You must be Freya Seymour. I'm Serena Jarman. Nice to meet you."

I didn't answer. I just stared.

Alfred Seymour emerged from the living room. At the sight of her, his expression melted in a way I rarely saw. "Rena, you must be exhausted. Let Freya show you to your room."

"Thank you, Mr. Seymour," Serena said demurely.

Alfred added, "Use Freya's room. It gets the best light and will be perfect for your recovery."

I turned to him. "My room?"

"Starting today, that's Rena's room. You'll move to the third floor. There's a vacant one up there."

I gave a mirthless laugh. "I'll pass."

I went upstairs and started packing. Half an hour later, I came down, suitcase in tow.

Alfred saw it and frowned. "Where do you think you're going?"

Without looking back, I said, "I'm leaving. I'm not a Seymour anymore. There's no reason for me to stay here."

"Freya! The wedding's in two weeks. Don't be absurd!"

"I know." I pulled the door open. "I'll show up on time in two weeks and keep my end of the deal."

I slammed the door behind me and drove off from the Seymour residence. My destination was the most luxurious hotel in Belcaster.

"I want your most expensive suite," I told the receptionist.

"How many nights?"

"Two weeks."

I paid with the Seymours' secondary card, which had a 30 million dollar limit and had been barely touched until now. Today, I intended to burn through it.

After checking into the suite, I unleashed a spree of revenge spending.

I reached out to the consultant from the world's top wedding-dress label and ordered three gowns, all over a million a piece. Then came ten sets of jewelry and two limited-edition watches.

By nightfall, I had blown nearly 25 million dollars.

Alfred called not long after.

"Freya! Are you insane? You burned through nearly 30 million dollars in a single day!"

I stretched out on the hotel's leather couch. "What's the problem? I'm marrying into a family far away. I need to spend a little to look the part."

"You need that much just to look the part?"

I sipped my champagne. "Of course. I'm marrying the Gaskell heir. Do you expect me to show up looking cheap? Besides, they're putting three billion dollars on the table. Tens of millions doesn't even register."

"You…"

Alfred choked on his fury, unable to speak.

I laughed. "Dad—no, I should say Mr. Seymour. Didn't we already cut ties? Technically, I shouldn't even be spending your money. Relax. Once the funds land, you'll be the first I pay back."

I hung up and went straight back to my spending spree. Before the marriage funds landed, I'd bleed the Seymours' cash flow dry.

Once those three billion dollars hit my account, Alfred would have to beg if he wanted even a crumb back. We'd see if he still dared to stand with Rowena and Serena then.

I was about to launch into the final round of indulgence when my phone buzzed. Daniel's name lit up the screen.

"You've not gone to the office for three days. What's going on?"

I stared at the words. My pulse spiked, but I smothered it at once.

He didn't care about me. He only cared when I strayed from his script. That was all.

I texted back, "Family stuff. I'll be fine in a few days."

He never replied.

…

The next morning, just as I was heading out for another round of shopping, the hotel receptionist stopped me.

"Ms. Seymour, I'm sorry, but the card you've been using has been frozen. We can't process any more payments for your stay."

"What do you mean?"

"You'll need to settle the bill immediately, or…" He hesitated. "We'll have to ask you to leave the hotel."

An hour later, I was outside, suitcase in hand—penniless and homeless. I couldn't bring myself to sell the luxury pieces I'd bought. They were meant for the wedding.

For a moment, I thought of calling a friend. But then I remembered that I didn't have any.

No one had ever cared for me. They'd only cared for the Seymour name. And now that I'd been cast out, who would even bother with me?

Night pressed in as I dragged my suitcase through the streets.

At last, I found a park bench and sank onto it. The silence was heavy, disturbed only by the low hiss of traffic far off.

I hugged my knees, counting the days. Twelve left until the wedding. I couldn't survive on the streets that long. As I sat brooding, a group of drunks lurched into the park.

One of them staggered closer, reeking of cheap alcohol. "Hey, gorgeous. All alone?"

I shot upright, muscles taut. "Stay back."

"Don't be like that." He reached for me. "Why don't you have a drink with us?"

I stepped back, only to bump into the bench.

Just then, a low voice cut through the night. "She's not alone."

I turned and saw Daniel step out of the shadows, his expression so dark it was almost frightening. The weight of his presence sent the drunks slinking away.

He stopped in front of me, his gaze flicking from my suitcase to the bench.

"Homeless, and still you won't turn to me?"