The Price of His Lies

When Julian found out I was pregnant, he dropped to his knees in front of me, tears streaming down his face. "Chloe, please abort the baby. I'm drowning in a hundred thousand dollars of debt. Even if you bring this child into the world, it’ll just suffer alongside us." Looking at our mountain of bills, I wanted to agree. Still, I couldn't bear to let the baby go. I secretly went to an underground clinic for an examination. An accident happened. I lost the baby, and with it, my ability to ever become a mother. Julian didn't blame me, but late at night, I would catch him in the shadows, the red ember of his cigarette glowing in the dark. For the next five years, I kept my head down, working eight jobs a day. All to help Julian pay off his debts faster, and to repay the steady, unwavering love he had given me. Until one day, I took a cleaning gig at a luxury estate. Through the heavy double doors, the loud cheer of a birthday party drifted out. "Mr. Vance really is an incredible father. Dropping four million dollars to rent this entire private estate just to celebrate his son's birthday." "It's just pocket change. My boy is turning five. You only get one fifth birthday in your life, right?" I thought my ears were playing tricks on me. How could that be Julian's voice? Just this morning, he kissed me goodbye and said he was going to a construction site. He told me he’d found a new gig hauling drywall that paid twenty-five bucks an hour. "Daddy! I'm so happy!" "As long as you're happy, buddy. Daddy makes money just to put a smile on your face." A man’s silhouette appeared in front of the floor-to-ceiling window. Panicking, I shrank back into the shadows of the hedges. Julian wore a sharp, perfectly tailored suit. He carried an adorable little boy who looked like a porcelain doll toward the glass. He looked poised and aristocratic. His cufflinks caught the sunlight with a dazzling glint, and a massive signet ring sat on his long, slender finger. I looked down at myself. A worn-out T-shirt washed so many times it had lost its shape, faded jeans, and a pair of cheap canvas sneakers bought from a sidewalk stall for ten bucks, the sole already peeling apart on one side. "Daddy's got another surprise for you. You'll see tonight." Julian didn't notice me. He patted the little boy's head, looking every bit the doting, loving father. The boy clapped his hands with pure joy. His eyes and features bore a striking resemblance to Julian. No one could doubt they were father and son. Did Julian just say he was turning five today? Five years old... Five years... Five years ago, Julian used poverty as an excuse to make me abort our baby. It never once crossed my mind that there was another explanation: he already had a child. That was why, over the past five years, he had never once resented me for having my body ruined by that shady clinic. Like a fool, I believed it was because he loved me. Tears welled up and spilled over. I clamped a hand over my mouth and crouched behind the garden wall, desperate not to let anyone see me. Right then, my phone buzzed violently. "Why haven't you clocked in yet? Mr. Vance already called! If you don't show up right now, you won't get a single dime for today's shift!" I used the stone wall to pull myself up, listening to the cheers inside the mansion. "I'm sorry... I'm really not feeling well today." The staffing agency manager’s temper flared instantly. "If you're sick, say so earlier! Mr. Vance is throwing a birthday bash for his son today—do you have any idea how much money he spent on this? I only threw this gig your way because you've been working for me for so long. How could you bail on me like this?" Outside, people addressed him with absolute deference as Mr. Vance. Yet in front of me, he played the part of a penniless nobody down on his luck. I swallowed my tears. "I'm so sorry, boss. I really..." As if my body decided to validate my lie, a sharp, piercing pain suddenly stabbed through my lower abdomen. My knees gave out, and I slammed onto the ground. The phone slipped from my grasp, its screen going completely black within seconds. This phone was a hand-me-down from Julian. He had told me he needed a newer model because he was always out meeting clients, but this old one was still usable. When he gave it to me, I had treated it like a priceless treasure. Looking back now, I had been an utter clown. Several large flatbed trucks rumbled up the private driveway of the estate. Workers quickly unloaded and set up thousands of custom fireworks. Hiding in the bushes, I watched the fireworks launch into the sky, bursting into breathtaking cascades of vibrant colors. I broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. Julian had told me he owed forty thousand dollars in back debts. Forty thousand dollars once brought a grown man to his knees in front of me, crying his eyes out. Yet here he was, spending fortunes just to paint the night sky for a few seconds. Inside the estate, Julian held his little boy by the window, watching the fireworks together. Out on the pavement, the worn-out sole of my sneaker finally gave up and split clean open. I kicked off my shoes and walked barefoot toward home. The sharp gravel along the road cut deep into my soles, leaving a trail of bloody nicks behind me. Not long after I got back to our rundown apartment, Julian walked through the door. He was still wearing the dirty white tank top he’d left in this morning, with a pair of cheap work boots on his feet. "Babe, I'm home." The moment he stepped inside, the stench of alcohol hit me. Seeing me frown, he gave an apologetic grin. "The guys on the crew bought a round after work, so I had a few. Do I smell that bad?" His eyes drifted down to my feet. "Oh god, what happened to your feet? Why are there so many cuts?" I sniffled and forced a flat tone. "It's nothing. My shoes broke, so I walked back." He wrapped his arms around me, gently rubbing my back. "Babe, it's my fault. I don't have the cash to buy you new shoes right now. We still have some superglue. I'll patch them up for you tomorrow." I turned away from him. "My feet are fine. Let's just go to sleep." Julian didn't sense anything off. Like he always did, he took a shower, came to bed, and pulled me into his arms. His arm rested heavily across my waist. Soon, his breathing turned deep and steady. I kept my eyes wide open in the dark, letting the tears fall in silence.Early the next morning, Julian got up, saying he had to head back to the site. I smiled and saw him out the door. Then, I changed my clothes and quietly followed him. I had been too blind all these years. I had never doubted his feelings for me, never once suspected that he was lying through his teeth. Sure enough, Julian walked straight into a five-star hotel not far from our neighborhood—a luxury establishment I would never have dared to even step into. "Julian, you really have too much free time," a sharply dressed man said, throwing an arm over Julian's shoulder near the lobby entrance. "What, haven't you had enough of playing house with that girl yet?" "Look at you, dressing like a bum. If Elena saw you looking like this, her heart would break." Hearing that name made my entire body shudder. Of course. If there was a son, there had to be a mother. Yesterday, I was too overwhelmed by his fake poverty to realize the obvious: he might have had a family all along. Julian’s tone sounded heavy. "Drop it. She turned down my proposal five years ago. She's living a great life abroad right now." The man looked surprised. "No one told you? Elena's coming back to the country soon. You two will be reunited before you know it." Julian stopped in his tracks. "Are you serious?" The man clapped Julian on the back. "Of course I am. Take a piece of advice from a friend—if you want to make things work with Elena, ditch that broke girl right away. Don't let her ruin your chance." Crouched behind a marble pillar, the world spun around me as I listened. Then, Julian's reply made my knees buckle completely. After a brief pause, he smiled at his friend. "Got it. I'll lay my cards on the table with her in a few days." I wandered back to our rental in a daze and collapsed onto the mattress, devoid of all energy. The drip bucket under the leaky bathroom faucet must have overflowed again. Listening to the steady patter of water, my tears soaked the pillow beneath my head. Memories dragged me back seven years. I first met Julian outside a local community center. He was wearing a crisp white dress shirt. When I tripped and fell on the pavement, he helped me up. "Are you okay? Do you need me to take you to urgent care?" I shook my head, but he insisted on taking my number, telling me to call him if anything hurt later. Before I could ever dial his number, our paths crossed again. "What's wrong with you, busboy? Spilling drinks all over my buddy! Are you blind?" Holding a tray, Julian stood outside a VIP lounge with his head down, being shoved around by several aggressive men. Without thinking, I rushed in to pull them apart. Julian took a punch to the face trying to shield me. "I'm so sorry, Chloe. I hit rock bottom and had no choice but to work here. I didn't think I'd mess up even a simple job like this." As I dabbed antiseptic on his cut lip, his eyes were wet with tears. His naturally striking features looked so vulnerable, so utterly heartbreaking. "Why do you say you hit rock bottom?" That night, Julian held me close and poured his heart out. He told me he fell in love with me the moment he saw me, but he had no money and was buried under mountains of debt. He didn't know how to confess his feelings, so running into me again felt like destiny. And then, I said the words I would regret for the rest of my life. "Julian, I don't have any money either. How could I ever look down on you?" God, I was laughably naive. Maybe he really did feel a spark when he first saw me, but it was nothing more than shallow physical attraction. Looking back, the guy who yelled the loudest at him that night was the exact same friend walking beside him today with an arm over his shoulder. "Chloe, you idiot. You let a man play you for seven whole years," I whispered to the empty room. Suddenly, the front door clicked open, and Julian's voice came through. "Chloe, I'm back. Were you just talking to someone?" I quickly wiped my tears. "No, just a video on my phone." Julian didn't think twice about it. He flopped onto the bed, grabbed my hand, and rested his head on my shoulder like a tired child. "This morning was brutal. My arms are killing me." I squeezed his forearm and asked casually, "Where is this site anyway? Is it indoors? How come your skin is still so pale?" His skin wasn't just pale—it was smooth and soft, showing none of the wear and tear of a man working manual labor in the heat. Julian offered an awkward laugh and sat up. "Of course it's indoors. Under this sun? I wouldn't do outdoor labor for twenty-five bucks an hour." I wrapped my fingers around his cool hand. "Julian, we've been together a long time. I want to get married." He froze for a fraction of a second. "Chloe... you know we don't have the money right now..." He looked up at me, his eyes brimming with apparent sincerity. "It's my fault. I haven't worked hard enough to give you a better life." Slowly, I let go of his hand and closed my eyes. Just last night, he threw around millions without blinking to celebrate his son's birthday. Yet when I asked about marriage, he told me he was too poor. I took a deep breath and looked directly into his eyes, searching for a single shred of guilt. "Julian, is there anything you're hiding from me?"Hearing that, Julian dropped nervously beside the bed, clutching my hands tightly. He was still smiling—a warm, seemingly earnest smile. "Of course not, babe. What could I possibly hide from you?" My heart plummeted straight into an icy abyss. "Okay. I trust you." I smiled and reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead. Since he was determined to keep lying, asking wouldn't get me anywhere. After Julian left that afternoon, my agency called. They said an upscale private club had a huge event in three days and asked if I wanted to pick up a shift. Thinking about my empty checking account, I gritted my teeth and agreed. "Chloe, let me tell you, if you take good care of this VIP client, the tips will be insane." Listening to the agency rep, I gave a hollow laugh, promised I wouldn't be late, and hung up. Three nights later, I put on the server's uniform, only to discover the cruel truth. The VIP client tonight was Julian. He had booked an entire private luxury club just to throw a welcome-back bash for Elena. Tonight, he was the star of the show, high above the clouds, while I was just a grubby, invisible server in the background. I instinctively prayed that our paths wouldn't cross. Fate had other plans. Julian owned the venue. It didn't take long before he walked toward the private lounge on the floor where I was stationed. Dressed in an impeccable designer suit, he had a stunning, glamorous woman hooked onto his arm. A memory flashed in my head—right before he left the apartment tonight, he had said softly, "I have to work late on a night shift. Go to bed early." So this was his night shift. Wrapping his arm around another woman, laughing the night away in a private lounge. "Julian, I heard you've taken great care of our son these past few years." Julian smiled faintly. "He's my son. Of course I'd take care of him." Elena nestled against his shoulder. "Five years ago, I threw a tantrum and left. You don't still hold a grudge against me, do you?" Hiding inside the utility closet, I listened to them through the thin door, my chest tightening so violently I couldn't breathe. A terrible gut feeling warned me that Julian was about to say something that would make me hate him for the rest of my life. "Hold a grudge for what? For demanding she abort the baby? Or for that back-alley clinic wrecking her uterus? She's just a nobody. If she can't have kids, she can't have kids. It's no big deal. Don't overthink it." Julian’s tone was completely casual. My body stiffened like stone, as if someone had dumped me straight into an icy crevasse. Slowly, I turned my head, staring through the frosted glass pane at the man standing outside. That clinic was handpicked by Julian. The moment he chose it, he knew what the outcome would be. Because to him, being with me was just a game. The baby was merely an inconvenient mistake resulting from his little fling, so he made sure to erase it. My baby's life, and my ability to ever become a mother, were nothing more than bargaining chips in their lovers' quarrel. In Julian's eyes, I wasn't even a person. I was an object, something disposable—worth less than a stray dog. A sharp, tearing agony exploded in my chest. I clutched my ribs, dropping heavily onto the cold floor tiles. All the misery, all the humiliation I had endured for his sake over the past seven years... to him, it was just a pathetic, self-inflicted joke. Right then, the sharp crash of breaking glass came from the lounge. "Oops! Julian, I'm so clumsy." "It's fine. I'll get someone to clean it up." I couldn't let Julian catch me here. I had already lost seven years of my life. I couldn't throw away whatever shred of dignity I had left and let him stomp on it. Panicking, I tried to push myself up, but my knees were like jelly. I couldn't stand. "Server? Where is the server?" Julian's voice called out from the hallway again. He patted Elena's hand. "Hold on, I'll go check." His footsteps moved toward the utility closet, step by step. My heart hammered wildly against my ribs, threatening to burst.