They Billed Me For Eighteen Years Of Love And I Sold Every Memory Chapter 08

The next morning, I had a lawyer draw up three documents.

One ended my engagement.

One was a notarized waiver of my right to inherit from the family trust.

The last one cut every financial tie I had with the Whitmores.

I was in the middle of signing the first one when Adrian showed up.

He slapped his hand down on the page.

“No. I’m not accepting this.”

“This isn’t just your call.”

“Our families made this arrangement together.”

The lawyer stepped in.

“Mr. Mercer, a marriage needs both people’s consent.”

“If Ms. Whitmore withdraws her consent, the engagement is void.”

Adrian didn’t even look at him.

He pulled out our engagement photo and set it in front of me.

“You always said marrying me was what you wanted more than anything.”

“You were planning our wedding at fourteen.”

“You picked out the hotel, the dress, the invitations. All of it.”

I looked at the photo.

“Why was the girl in this picture crying?”

Adrian went still.

“I read the background file the bank compiled on this memory,” I said, tapping the screen.

“They’d found Tessa not long before that photo was taken. The custom dress I’d picked out went to her.

“You told me to wear an old one so she could have the spotlight,” I continued. “My sister had been through so much, you said. I could let her have it, just this once.”

I tilted the photo toward him. “In the photo, I might be smiling. But my eyes are puffy from crying.”

“You keep telling me how much I loved you.”

“But everything you show me only proves how you wore that love down to nothing.”

Adrian’s voice went quiet.

“I can change, Evie.”

“I’ll get you the dress you wanted.”

“And we’ll keep the house downtown. Nothing changes.”

“Forget waiting three years. We can get married next month.”

“Mr. Mercer.”

I lifted his hand off the page.

“None of that fixes what you did.”

“You only got scared once you realized I’d stopped waiting for you.”

I signed my name with a final, decisive stroke, and just like that, the engagement was over.

Maren showed up not long after with an old blanket in her arms.

“Evie, remember this?”

“When you were little, thunderstorms scared you so much you couldn’t sleep. I’d wrap you up in this.”

She settled the blanket in my arms and patted my back, the way she used to.

“Shh. It’s okay. I’m right here.”

Having a stranger that close made every muscle in my body lock up.

I shoved her away.

The blanket slid to the floor.

Maren sank down slowly, like someone had cut her strings.

When I walked out of the building, Bennett was waiting on the sidewalk with the rusty old bike.

He wiped the seat down until it shone.

“Come on, Evie. Let’s go for a ride.”

“Every time you fell, I was the one who picked you up.”

I didn’t get on.

“The records make it pretty clear that this time, you were one of the people who pushed me down.” Chapter 8

Bennett’s hands clenched around the handlebars, and he started to cry.

That afternoon, Graham brought me his entire stake in the family trust.

“It’s all yours,” he said. “Just come home.”

I didn’t take it.

“You already put a price on what we had once. You don’t need to do it twice.”

“I don’t want the Whitmore money.”

“And I don’t need to start over with any of you.”

Maren could barely get the words out through her tears.

“Do you… hate us?”

I shook my head slowly.

“I don’t even remember who you are. How could I hate you?”

“All I can go on is the evidence. And the evidence says I’m not safe around you.”

“So please, from now on, stay away from me.”

This time, it finally sank in.

Hatred would have hurt less. What gutted them was that I felt nothing for them at all.