She Drew Our Love, She Drew Our End Chapter 02

She Drew Our Love, She Drew Our End Chapter 02

Hundreds of wooden sticks littered the floor. Not a single one was marked above $10.

The floor seemed to shift beneath my feet.

“Five years together, and you lied to me the entire time.”

Sloane dropped the rest of the sticks and dusted off her hands.

“Future Mrs. Prescott, the innocent act was cute for a minute. Keep it up and it gets embarrassing.”

“Ethan likes you enough to play the fool. That doesn’t mean the rest of us have to.”

Ethan brushed the tear from the corner of my eye with his thumb and said quietly,

“Sloane, enough.”

She rolled her eyes.

“I’ve known Ethan for over twenty years. He has a soft spot for the whole damsel-in-distress routine.”

“But you two had barely started dating when you said your family had lost its farmland and you needed to borrow $1,500. That was a little much, don’t you think?”

“He pulled the number himself. Five bucks. That same night, we dropped about $75,000 on drinks.”

She rested her chin on one hand and kept going.

“Then there was the time you said your dad needed tests before a cardiac stent and asked for $450.”

“We were traveling then. We’d chartered a plane. I used Ethan’s phone to pay around $300,000 for it, then sent you $9.99 because I felt sorry for you.”

“I’m not saying you’re bad at the con. Our money just isn’t as easy to get your hands on as you seem to think.”

I listened to her talk down to me and stared at Ethan for a long moment.

I’d earned about $15,000 from university research alone, plus around $1,500 a month from smaller side projects.

So the jar had never been about fairness.

They simply thought I wasn’t worth more.

They’d taken one look at me and decided being poor was somehow in my blood.

Then Ethan’s mother cut in.

“Ethan, go see what’s taking the food so long.”

He glanced at me, then got up and left anyway.

By then, I felt nothing.

The second he was gone, Dad stepped in front of me, his expression hard.

“Enough. If none of you came here in good faith, then there won’t be a wedding.”

Mom took my hand in silence and headed for the door.

Mrs. Prescott set down her cup with a quiet scoff.

Sloane immediately said,

“Don’t be upset, Mrs. Prescott. What do you expect from people from the sticks?”

“Trash.”

Dad turned back, his fingers trembling with rage.

Panic shot through me. I rushed to him and handed him the heart medication he always carried.

“Dad, don’t get worked up.”

But after he took it, his breathing only grew more labored. Then he collapsed.

Sloane curled her lip. “Wow. Very convincing.”

I had no time for her. I looked desperately at Ethan’s mother.

“Mrs. Prescott, please. Have your driver take my dad to the hospital. He has a heart condition. We don’t have time to waste.”

Her fingertips stayed on the rim of her cup. She didn’t even look at me.

Sloane gave a soft laugh.

“What now? Going to use his heart condition to squeeze one last big check out of Ethan?”

I looked at both women and finally understood. I was on my own.

I pulled out my phone and called 911 immediately.

By the time the paramedics arrived, sweat had soaked through the back of my shirt.

But just as they came through the doorway for Dad,

Sloane planted herself in their path, hands on her hips.

“Who said you could come in? Get out.”

Panic burned through my chest. I rushed forward and yanked her aside.

“Move!”

She threw herself backward just as Ethan returned.

“Ethan, another second and your honorary mom would’ve been bullied to death.”

She leaned into his chest and jerked her chin toward my father.

“Look at that. They’ve even got him lying on the floor. This family really commits to a scam.”

At first, Ethan’s eyes widened when he saw Dad on the floor.

Then Sloane spoke, and the tension drained from his face.

He frowned at me.

“Apologize to Sloane.”

“And tell your dad to get up.”

I’d already given up on him.

Still, it hurt.

I gritted my teeth and shoved Ethan aside so the paramedics could finally get Dad onto the stretcher.

Ethan caught my wrist, his voice low.

“If you still want to marry me, apologize to Sloane.”

“Ethan Prescott, we’re not getting married.”

I tore my hand free, grabbed Mom, and followed the stretcher out.

My shoe crushed the cake he’d thrown on the floor, the one from my favorite bakery.

“Emma Reed, you’ll be back. And you’ll beg Sloane to forgive you.”

I didn’t look back.