She Drew Our Love, She Drew Our End Chapter 05

She Drew Our Love, She Drew Our End Chapter 05

Ethan turned to Sloane. His eyes went cold.

“Didn’t you tell me Emmie’s dad didn’t have a heart condition at all?”

Panic flickered across Sloane’s face, but she recovered almost immediately and plucked the phone from his

hand.

“Daniel, how much did she pay you to lie for her

“I didn’t…”

Before Daniel could finish, Sloane ended the call without a second thought.

Then she tried to drape an arm over Ethan’s shoulders the way she always did.

“My boy, listen to your honorary mom. Girls who play helpless need boundaries. You can’t let your guard

down. I’m only trying to protect you.”

Ethan jerked back.

He stared at her, his face darkening.

“She was already broke. Her last $4,500 went to the clothes you made her buy you as an apology.”

“And she’s going to be my wife. From now on, she handles our money.”

He didn’t look at Sloane again. He turned and walked away.

He couldn’t bring himself to look at the shattered glass door again.

Bloody handprints covered it. Shreds of skin clung to the jagged edges,

along with torn fingernails.

Every time the image flashed through his mind, panic tightened around his chest,

He ran one red light after another on the drive back. When a patrol car finally caught him, Daniel stayed

behind to deal with the citation while Ethan hurried on.

Outside our apartment, Ethan fixed his disheveled hair until every strand was back in place.

Only then did he turn to Daniel, who was still handling the ticket, and ask,

“Daniel, do I look good right now?”

Daniel looked like he had a thousand questions, but years of surviving as an executive assistant kicked in.

He managed a professional smile.

“You look great, Mr. Prescott.”

The officer standing nearby looked one second away from losing his patience.

Ethan turned back to the door.

Good. That was all that mattered.

Emmie had never said it,

but he knew that when she’d worked part–time at a coffee shop,

she’d stepped in to help him that day because she’d thought he was handsome.

Emmie wouldn’t leave him. She loved him too much.

She’d swallowed five years of humiliation for him.

How could she possibly walk away now?

He opened the door, bent to change his shoes, and called into the apartment,

“Emmie, I’m home! I put $100,000 into our wedding fund. A real budget this time.”

“Forget the $9.99. That doesn’t count…”

He stopped halfway through the sentence.

Something was wrong.

There were no shoes in the cabinet but his.

He straightened and swept his gaze around the tiny apartments

Cold. Quiet.

Everything that belonged to me was gone.

His expression didn’t change.

But his hand trembled around the phone as he dialed my number.

“The number you have dialed is no longer in service.”

He called again. And again. The same recording every time.

Still, he kept dialing.

Someone knocked at the door.

His heart lurched, and he reached it almost instantly.

“Emmie…”

But Daniel was standing outside, wearing his usual professional smile.

“Mr. Prescott.”

Ethan gave him an irritated look. Then something clicked.

“Back to the office.”

At Prescott Biomedical, he went straight to HR.

“What department is Emma Reed in?”

The HR manager’s fingers froze over the keyboard.

“Mr. Prescott, Ms. Reed resigned a month ago.”

“A month ago? Why?”

The HR manager shot him a puzzled look, but answered carefully.

“She said her father needed money for a cardiac stent and asked whether her stipend could be increased.”

“I brought the request to you. Ms. Mercer drew $9.99, and you approved raising Ms. Reed’s token annual research stipend from $5 to $9.99. She resigned the next day.

Ethan’s throat tightened. He sounded almost disbelieving.

“From five dollars to $9.99 a year? That’s all you paid her…?”

He cut himself off.

Then memory hit him.

During my first month there, I’d told him the compensation was too low and asked for more.

He’d brushed me off with the same answer: the jar decided everything.

After that, I’d never brought it up again.

And not once had he wondered

how I’d managed on five dollars a year,

while still handing money over to Sloane without a single complaint.

Then he remembered I’d once sent him the address of my hometown.

He drove hundreds of miles to my family’s old home in Arkansas.

But the person who opened the door wasn’t me or my mother.

It was a stranger.

For once, he was too exhausted to care how he looked.

Daniel stepped forward.

“Excuse me, does Ms. Reed still live here?”

“Emma Reed? She’s getting married. Her parents sold me the house and all their land so they could buy her a place in Houston.”

Then it hit Ethan.

The condo.

He’d arranged the purchase himself.

But Sloane’s name was on the deed.

Daniel turned toward Ethan and lowered his voice.

“Mr. Prescott, do you think Ms. Reed might have left…?”

Ethan cut him off.

“No. She loves me.”

“And we’re getting married soon.”