He Paid Five Million to Cut Ties, Then Came Crawling Back Chapter 02

He Paid Five Million to Cut Ties, Then Came Crawling Back Chapter 02

My phone buzzed. Tessa Ashford. Bennett’s sister.

“Maren, what did my brother do now? You know he’s an idiot. Don’t let him get to you.”

Same Tessa. Bright, warm, completely oblivious to how bad things actually were.

She was the only person in Bennett’s life who’d ever taken my side.

“I’m fine.” I closed my eyes.

“‘Fine?’ Come on. My brother literally just called me and asked me to calm you down. He said Serena’s wrist was burned so badly the skin peeled off. He thinks you took it too far.”

My stomach dropped.

The skin peeled off?

I looked down at my own hand. Blisters were swelling across the burn. Funny how nobody mentioned that part.

“Who even is this Serena girl anyway? My brother won’t shut up about her.”

“An intern at his office.”

“Just an intern? Yeah, right. You know my brother. He barely talks to women. Since when does he go to bat for some random girl like this?”

She was right. Of course I knew.

Bennett could barely hold a conversation with most women.

In high school, he’d been the kid who aced everything and talked to no one. The whole class kept their distance. I was the only one who didn’t.

I pulled him out of that. Stayed with him through the worst of it.

There was a time he couldn’t function without me.

When did things start to change?

Probably when his life took off, and mine stayed exactly where it was. Just me and a little flower shop going nowhere.

“Tessa, your brother and I broke up,” I said.

Dead silence on the line.

When she finally spoke, her voice cracked.

“Maren, stop. You’re not serious. You’ve been together for eight years. You can’t just end it like that.”

“It wasn’t my call. He’s the one who ended it.”

“No way. No. My brother would never. He loves you, Maren. He wouldn’t just walk away.” Her voice shook.

“I’m tired, Tessa. I have to go.”

I sat in the corner of the shop and didn’t move.

Traffic crawled past the window.

A whole city out there, and not a single corner of it felt like mine.

I’d had a full ride to Briarcliff School of Fine Arts. I turned it down. For Bennett. Stayed in a city I didn’t know so he wouldn’t have to do it alone.

My teacher told me I was throwing away everything I had for a boy.

I didn’t regret it.

Bennett had gotten into Westbridge, his dream school. He promised me a future.

I believed him.

My hand couldn’t hold a brush anymore, so I learned to work with soil. I opened the flower shop.

I thought we’d grow old like that. Quiet and steady. Just the two of us.

Turns out, I was the only one who believed it.

The shop bell jingled just before dark.

I didn’t look up. Figured it was a customer.

“Maren.”

Bennett.

Every muscle in me locked. I still didn’t move.

He crossed the shop, crouched down in front of me, and met my eyes.

“Does it still hurt?” He sounded tired.

I didn’t speak.

He reached for my hand. I pulled it away.

His hand hung there in the air, empty.

“I looked at the security footage this afternoon,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I shouldn’t have blamed you. She tripped on her own.”

“That camera’s been dead for months,” I said. My voice was dead flat.

Bennett froze.

It had never worked. He’d kept it that way on purpose. He didn’t want anyone watching his office.

He hadn’t watched anything. He was just baiting me.

If I’d played along, said yes, I was the victim, and thanked him for seeing it, maybe he’d have tossed me a half-hearted apology.

And then it would’ve blown over without ever being resolved. The way everything between us always did.

But this time, I refused.

His expression shut down. “Why do you always have to make things harder than they need to be?”

“Like what?”

“This. Picking every fight. Needing to be right about everything.”

I tried to smile. Couldn’t.

The tears came anyway.

“Tell me who’s picking the fight, Bennett.” I looked straight at him. “Eight years. Is that really all I am to you? A problem?”

He didn’t answer.

That was worse than anything he could have said.

He straightened up, pulled a tube of ointment from his pocket, and set it on the table beside me.

“It’s prescription-grade. Put it on twice a day.”

There it was again. That tone. Like he was doing me a favor just by showing up.

Like he was the generous one and I should be grateful.

“And…” He paused. “The money. You deserve it. Take care of yourself, Maren.”

He turned and headed for the door.

He didn’t hesitate. Not even for a second.

I stared at his back. This was the man I used to lean on when nothing else felt safe.

Now, he was just a stranger walking away from me.

I grabbed the ointment off the table and hurled it at him.

It hit him square between the shoulders and clattered to the floor.

He stopped, but didn’t turn around.

The door opened, then closed again.

Just me. And everything he’d left broken in his wake.