"Rachel Summers, what did you do to spend so much money at once? Do you think my money came from the wind? I think you don't want to get married!"
I calmly listened to Mark's accusations without the slightest fluctuation in my heart. After eight years together, I was exhausted from his constant games—dangled promises of marriage to keep me by his side. He cheated me to forgo graduate school and follow him to a strange city. He lied to me to take out my savings, start a business with him and support him. He even persuaded me to quit my job so I could stay home and 'focus on being his future wife'.
Just a few months ago, he'd dangled the marriage carrot again, claiming we should look for a place together. So, I threw myself into finding the perfect home, scouting every neighborhood until I found the suitable one.
It turned out that "the wedding house" was actually his gift to his assistant, Chloe Davenport—a sleek, high-rise penthouse worth millions. He had handed it over without a second thought. Meanwhile, the price of a mere plane ticket was enough to make him blow up at me.
Sighing, I finally said, "You're right—I don't want to get married. Let's break up."