Chapter One: A Bitter Farewell

The coffee shop was warm and bustling, the hum of voices blending with the hiss of the espresso machine. I stared into my half-empty latte, watching the foam swirl into meaningless patterns. I had spent three years of my life with Jake Lopez, and here we were a public breakup in a crowded café. Perfect.

“So, you’re saying it’s over?” I asked, my voice trembling despite my best effort to sound composed.

Jake had the nerve to look at me with pity, his hands wrapped around the steaming mug like it might shield him from the consequences of his actions. “Vielle, I’m sorry, but we’ve grown apart. This… this isn’t working anymore.”

“We’ve grown apart?” I repeated, my voice rising slightly. A few patrons glanced in our direction, and I felt my cheeks burn. “Jake, last week, you told me you loved me. Now, we’ve suddenly ‘grown apart’?”

He shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting to the window.

Coward!

“I didn’t want to do this here,” he said, as though that made him noble. “But you kept asking me what was wrong, and I couldn’t keep lying to you.”

I clenched my fists under the table, trying to hold on to the shreds of my dignity. “Fine. You don’t want to be with me anymore. But what about the $30,000 you owe me? You promised you’d pay me back last month.”

Jake had the audacity to wince, as though I’d just insulted him. “Vielle, money isn’t everything. Do you really want to end things on that note?”

“You’re the one ending things,” I shot back. “And yes, I want my money back. I’m not exactly swimming in cash, Jake. That was supposed to cover my rent and studio supplies.”

He sighed, the kind of exaggerated sigh that made it clear he thought I was being unreasonable. “I don’t have it right now. Things are tight for me too, you know.”

I stared at him, stunned. He didn’t have it? Tight for him? The same man who’d just posted pictures of his new gaming setup on Instagram last week? My anger boiled over, and before I knew it, the words were spilling out.

“You don’t have it right now? Jake, you’re thirty-two years old. If you can’t manage to pay back a debt to your girlfriend ah! no Ex girlfriend, maybe you should rethink buying luxury items you don’t need.”

“Now you’re being dramatic,” he said, his voice low and placating. “I’ll pay you back when I can. But can we not make a scene?”

A scene? Oh, I was tempted to make a scene. My hands itched to throw his latte in his face, to stand on the table and declare to the entire café that Jake Lopez was a liar and a cheater who couldn’t pay his debts. But I took a deep breath instead.

“You know what, Jake? Keep the money,” I said, standing up and grabbing my bag. My chair scraped against the floor, loud enough to turn a few more heads. “Consider it a parting gift. I hope it’s worth more to you than I was.”

His mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. For once, he had no smooth retort. I didn’t give him the chance to find one. With my head held high and my heart in pieces, I walked out of the café and into the crisp autumn air.

The streets of the city bustled around me, a stark contrast to the storm swirling in my chest. Three years gone, and nothing to show for it but a lighter bank account and a lesson I never wanted to learn.

As I turned the corner, I found myself muttering under my breath. “No more. No more liars, no more freeloaders, and definitely no more Jake Lopez.”

It was a declaration to no one and everyone. Little did I know, the universe was already plotting its next move—a twist that would change everything.

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