When My Ex Gets Married and I Get the Bill

My wedding starts at 12:00 pm on the dot.

There are 58 tables, each table costing 8888 dollars.

120 bottles of premium liquor have been opened. 300 packs of top-tier cigarettes are unsealed.

At 2:30 pm, all the guests have left the scene, leaving nothing but a huge mess behind. That's when a server hands me the bill.

"It'll be 510 thousand dollars, miss."

I'm left gobsmacked. "I'm a wedding guest, not the organizer."

The groom is Charlie Humboldt, my ex-boyfriend. At the moment, he takes his pregnant bride, Sasha Fitch, by the hand while sneering at me.

"Since you're here, you might as well foot the bill. Think of it as your way of compensating for my youth."

Charlie's mother, Melissa Carlton, moves to block the door. "If you're not paying the bill, then you can forget about leaving. No one wants you anyway, so you might as well stay here and pay off your debt by working as a dishwasher!"

As I stare at the shameless family, I dig out my phone quietly.

What they don't know is that this five-star hotel is a gift from my dad to me.

"It will be 510 thousand dollars. Will you be paying by cash or card?" Charlie Humboldt, my ex, asked as he thrust the payment terminal in my face, nearly poking me in the eye.

He hadn't even taken off his boutonniere yet. The bright red color was glaringly obvious.

I scoffed and shoved his hand aside. "Do you have some loose screws in your head, Charlie? Why do I have to pay for your wedding?"

Charlie straightened his tie with a self-righteous expression. "You should be paying the bill, Lily Rosewood. We were together for three years. I've grown sick and tired of living like a pauper.

"To protect your pride, I gave up on furthering my studies in Volpena. I gave up on my future. I also missed the promotion interview at the company two years ago to take care of you when you were running a high fever."

Charlie held his hand up and counted how many times he made sacrifices for my sake on his fingers. Spit flew from his lips and spattered across my face.

"I lost so much because of you. I'm already giving you a discount by only asking for 510 thousand dollars."

I looked at Charlie.

Three years ago, I was the one who kept vigil by his bedside for three days when he was running a high fever and calling out for his mother. To pay for the astronomically-priced, imported cold medicine, I even pawned off the gold bracelet that Grandma had left for me.

And yet, he wanted to twist the truth and accuse me of holding him back now?

"And what if I refuse to pay?" I asked, glaring at him coldly.

Charlie scoffed and snapped his fingers.

A waiter—Larry Ford, according to his nametag—immediately fixed a smug expression on his face. "Your signature is on the booking confirmation, miss."

He then slapped a wrinkled piece of paper on the table.

A wonky version of my signature had been scribbled on the dotted line. The penmanship was absolutely awful.

"I didn't sign this," I said, reaching out to grab the paper to take a closer look.

Larry hastily snatched it away, looking enraged. "Planning to destroy the evidence, huh? Not on my watch! Besides, the surveillance cameras are recording everything that you do."

I couldn't help but think that Larry was acting more like a hooligan than an actual waiter.

I scanned my surroundings.

Most of the guests had already left the large hall. The only ones left were Charlie's aunts.

They surrounded us, acting as if they were watching a show while they nibbled on their snacks. Greed and malice shone in their eyes, giving off the impression that they wanted to swallow me whole.

"I'm going to call the police," I said, pulling out my phone.

I had just unlocked it when it was snatched out of my hand.

The phone was ruthlessly hurled to the ground. The screen shattered immediately, and the battery popped out.

Charlie stomped on my phone and ground it under his shoe. The sounds of the broken glass shards scraping against the leather soles of his shoes grated on my ears.

"You want to call the police? This is an economic dispute. Even if they do show up, they'll demand that you pay the bill."

Charlie stepped closer to me. The stench of alcohol wafting from his mouth made my stomach churn in disgust.

"Don't test my patience, Lily. Be good and pay the bill. I'll let you walk away unscathed if you do. If you don't, you can forget about leaving this hotel."

Charlie's relatives also chimed in.

"He's right. What's wrong with paying the bill for him when you were together for three years?"

"I'm guessing that she can't afford it. Just look at her shabby clothes."

"Why did she show up for the wedding if she doesn't have money? How shameless!"

Their insults were like needles stabbing my heart.

I took a deep breath and forced myself to calm down.

It was a set-up.

Charlie had planned to ensnare me in his trap from the moment he sent the wedding invitation to me. The toast earlier was a lead-up to the moment he would force the exorbitant bill on me.