The Price of Leaving You

When I took the breakup money and fled all those years ago, I never imagined I would see Nathan Reynolds again. Now, he had inherited the family empire and was worth hundreds of millions, while I was still scraping by. He hated my guts and openly mocked my shortsightedness. I honestly thought that after nine years, he would have grown up a bit. Who knew that this idiot, after being swindled out of his heart and his cash nine years ago, would end up in my bed once again? Nathan’s brow furrowed into deep crevices, his face dark as a thundercloud. I considered greeting him, but ended up swallowing the words. Instead, I focused entirely on examining the Samoyed in my arms. "Well?" The notoriously tight-lipped CEO finally spoke. I handed him the chart. "Nothing serious. He just overate. I’ll prescribe some digestive meds, but you need to monitor his portions." The big white fluffball beamed an innocent, dopey smile. It was genuinely hard to believe that such an adorable dog belonged to the cold, brooding man standing in front of me. "Looks like Dr. Miller is doing quite well for herself." He raised his eyes, lazily looking around the clinic, his voice dripping with dry indifference. Right on cue. Here came the settling of old scores. I plastered on a professional smile. "Oh, absolutely. Thanks entirely to your family’s generous support back then." "And yet, here you are," he scoffed, his sharp, handsome features twisting into a mocking smirk. "All those years of grinding, just to open this tiny, run-down clinic. Giving up a fortune of hundreds of millions for pennies on the dollar... and you actually look proud of yourself." I paused, lifting my chin to look straight at him, my smile remaining utterly polite. "Mr. Reynolds makes a great point. My little vet clinic is practically dirt compared to your grand billionaire dynasty. But every cent I make is earned through my own hard work. It's clean." I kept my expression sweet as I drove the knife in. "And best of all, I don't have to tolerate someone’s spoiled, rich-boy tantrums, nor do I have to look down at their condescending scowl." "Take right now, for instance. I'd love it if you took your dog and hauled your miserable self out of my clinic. A powerful, high-society man like you surely wouldn't want to lower yourself to staying here. Parking lot is out the door to the right. After you, Mr. Reynolds." Nathan turned pale with fury, his composure hanging by a thread. But I had zero intention of humoring him. I shoved the dog and the meds into his arms and turned on my heel. Years ago, when I was completely destitute, I never put up with his wild, arrogant temper. I certainly wasn't going to start now. I had originally planned to be polite, considering I was the one who unceremoniously dumped him back then. Clearly, that courtesy was wasted. "Wait." I froze and glanced back over my shoulder. Seeing the stormy look on his face, it hit me that he wasn't the boy he used to be. Dressed in a bespoke suit, radiating cold authority and arrogance, he was a world away from the rebellious delinquent of our youth. He was far harder to read now. I took half a step back. He lowered his head, casting his face in shadow. "Let's... exchange contacts."Nathan left looking somewhat defeated, while his Samoyed trotted beside him, chest puffed out, looking like the happiest dog on earth. I almost laughed out loud. He just couldn't communicate like a normal human being, could he? He had to pick a fight and get chewed out just to feel satisfied. On my walk home from work, my phone buzzed with a notification on SnapChat. Nathan: [Don't read into this. I only added you so we can track my dog's recovery.] Me: [Understood.] Nathan: [Since you did the exam, you need to see it through to the end.] Me: [Got it.] Nathan: [I'm extremely busy and don't have time to bounce between different clinics. Yours might be small, but it's licensed. It'll do in a pinch.] Nathan: [How was I supposed to know you were the director, or that you'd be the one handling my appointment?] Me: [Yes, yes, absolutely, Mr. Reynolds. I get it. You had zero hidden motives. I'd never be vain enough to think you drove all the way to my clinic, specifically requested me, and deliberately picked a fight just to get my attention.] Me: [I know. Complete coincidence.] The chat went completely silent, but the "Typing..." banner at the top of the screen lingered for ages. Even after I got home, it was still stuck on "Typing..." I couldn't hold it in anymore. I tossed my phone onto the bed and laughed until tears streamed down my face. I slept like a baby that night. Growing up, my life was hell. Truth be told, being able to stand where I am today is entirely thanks to Nathan—or rather, the fat check his mother cut me. I had gotten accepted into an elite Ivy League university, but my dear, loving parents tried to secretly alter my application choices just to keep me trapped locally. I was within an inch of never making it out. The payoff his mother handed me was like a lifeline dropped straight from heaven. It practically glowed with holy light, so much so that it made the haughty sneer on the wealthy socialite's face look almost charming. In my mind, it wasn't even a difficult choice. It was an absolute no-brainer. I took the check without a shred of hesitation, calmly enduring her utterly disgusted stare. From that day on, I left my hometown behind and headed out on my own to build a future. Nathan and I didn't date for very long, but if you counted from the beginning, we had known each other for fourteen years. I've never had a sweet temper, and I certainly never cared about coddling others. To put it bluntly, I was selfish. Nathan, on the other hand, treated me unimaginably well. I had never met anyone who could tolerate me the way he did. No matter what crazy thing I did, he backed me unconditionally. Yet, I didn't hesitate for a single second when the money was handed to me. To avoid any mess, I didn't even bother to give him a proper goodbye. Sometimes I thought that I was probably the heartless ex in some romance novel, the cruel first love who crushed the pure-hearted male lead. Calling myself his "first love" was too generous; I was just a callous bastard. Someone like me deserved to be loathed by everyone. My only real purpose was to catalyze the male lead's character growth, serving as emotional seasoning for him and his future heroine. Not that I gave a damn. Even if people pointed at my back and cursed me for being cold-blooded and ungrateful, so what? I got what I wanted.Ever since running into Nathan again, a faint sense of dread had been gnawing at the back of my mind. I knew exactly where it came from. I had lived in peace for so long that I almost forgot vipers were still lurking in the grass. Maybe this was my karma. Unable to calm the rising anxiety inside me, I wandered aimlessly down the street. The moment I saw Vanessa Vance, a strange calm washed over me instead. Vanessa sneered, looking down her nose at me with icy disdain. "I knew you'd be here." She blocked my path, every bit as arrogant and venomous as she was back in school. "You really are like a bad rash, aren't you?" Cruelty flashed in her eyes, veiled behind a razor-sharp smile. I shoved her back hard, staring at her with dead eyes. Her twisted, furious expression morphed seamlessly into the girl from high school. I vividly remembered her wearing that exact same face when she used to order other kids to slap me. "What? Blew through all that money and regret it now?" she spat. "Seeing you play the pure, untouched victim makes me sick. Who are you trying to fool? You just want cash, right? I'll pay you! Take the money and get the hell out of here!" It was laughable. I let out a dry smirk. "Are you out of your mind? Let's get one thing straight. I've lived in this city for nine years, and I have zero intention of ever moving back." "Who's really the one clinging on here? Who's the bad rash? Just because you can't get what you want, why does it always have to be my fault?" "You cheap, greedy gold-digger! Who do you think you are to talk to me like that?!" I smiled wider. "What can I say, Vanessa? I took the Reynolds family's money, dumped Nathan without looking back, and lived a completely peaceful life for years. Even when I'm this terrible, he still won't give you the time of day, will he?" She lunged, grabbing my arm, her manicured nails digging deep into my skin. I didn't bother pulling away. I just lazily shifted my gaze to the space behind her. She realized something was wrong and whipped her head around. Nathan was standing right behind her, leash in hand, his face carved from ice. She gritted her teeth, hissing at me, "You little bitch." I pried her fingers off my arm, applying just enough force to make her wince and yank her hand back. "Just you wait, Chloe Miller. You won't be gloating for long." Leaving that venomous promise hanging in the air, she turned on her heel and stormed off. I knew exactly what she was planning to do. She was utterly pathetic, convinced she had found my weak spot. I used to have one. I had an older brother. Before I was born, he was in a brutal car accident that left him paralyzed from the waist down, completely bedridden. Drowning in grief, my parents decided to have a second child. The idea was to have another son to carry on the family name and take care of the house. Unfortunately for them, I was born a girl. Growing up, that house was smothered under an inescapable, suffocating shadow. People told me that before the accident, my brother had been bright, cheerful, and full of life. I could never associate those words with him. To me, he was a raving lunatic. I never knew when he would suddenly snap, but I knew that whenever he did, I was the one who paid for it. When he was miserable, I had to watch out for boiling hot tea being thrown at my face. Most of the time, though, he preferred using a long, slender black cane. The apartment was cramped, leaving me nowhere to hide. The cane was thin but whiplike; getting struck by it hurt no different than being lashed. If I just took it, my parents would turn a blind eye and pretend nothing happened. But if I dared to fight back, all three of them would join in beating me. From the moment I drew breath, my fate was chained to Lucas Miller. My parents would do anything for him. They had even mapped out my entire future before I hit puberty: I was supposed to become a physical therapist just so I could serve Lucas for the rest of my life. In that house, I was never treated as a human being. I was a slave.