12
Wesley still doesn’t know why I broke up with him back then. That year, he found success and came back to propose to me. I owed him a proper explanation, and I planned to tell him everything. I wanted to explain that the harsh words I said when we broke up were lies.
He was a great guy, deserving of the best girl in the world. They would have a happy family, healthy kids, free from poverty or illness. I repeated these words to myself countless times, hoping I could smile and tell Wesley to live a happy life.
No one knew how many times I cried into the night. I regretted that the girl who could be with him forever wasn’t me. The day I sorted out my feelings, I wanted to find Wesley. He was at a club for business, so we couldn’t have a proper talk.
I called him and heard he sounded drunk. I was worried and decided to go there. When I arrived at the club, he wasn’t answering my calls, sol had to check each room. Through the glass on a door, I finally saw him, but he was holding another woman, kissing her passionately.
I barged in, and he turned to look at me, not even flustered. Holding back tears, I asked, “Wesley, were you playing me?
He pushed the woman away, reeking of alcohol, and cornered me. Wiping my tears, he coaxed, “I was going to play with you, but when I visited your house and saw how miserable you were, I felt sorry.”
“Phoebe, why don’t I really marry you?”
“But I don’t love you anymore, so you need to behave. No crying, no fussing. I have many lovers, and if you keep getting jealous, I’ll get annoyed…”
When Wesley said he didn’t love me anymore, tears fell, I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm, and said softly. “Wesley, I came to tell you! don’t plan to marry you.”
“When we broke up, it was because of my mom…
Before I could finish, he grabbed my chin and cursed fiercely, “Don’t you dare mention your mom to me.”
“Don’t blame it all on her. You and your mom both love money; neither of you is any better.”
With the stench of alcohol, he threatened, “Phoebe, when I said I’d marry you, it wasn’t a discussion. You’d better accept it gratefully.”
He didn’t want to hear my explanation. For the pain I caused him, he wanted me to suffer more. That was fair. Looking at his face, he seemed
Maybe all the kindness my mom and I showed him was just one–sided. Maybe I should have clung to him that year, let him be burdened b poverty. I was so foolish back then, even I think I was pathetic.
He continued, “I heard Phoebe used to work as a hostess at a club, right?”
“She’s lucky to find a decent boyfriend.”
“If that guy knew Phoebe was a hostess, would he still want her?”
I was shaking with anger and slapped Wesley, calling him a bastard! He smiled, squeezing my chin, saying. “Phoebe, for revenge, I can do
worse.
“If you don’t believe me, you can try.”
Wesley was ruthless. I didn’t dare to try; I was afraid of ruining Phoebe’s hard–earned happiness. I told myself it didn’t matter where my life ended up. If marrying was the only option, so be it.
This revenge lasted a long time. Long enough that when Wesley got tired and wanted to make up, I no longer loved him.
