I Saved 10,000 Points For Our Wedding, He Deducted 500 For Her Chapter 08

I Saved 10,000 Points For Our Wedding, He Deducted 500 For Her Chapter 08

A month later, I took over an empty old cottage in town.

I did everything myself, from painting the walls and laying tile to buying the bedding and installing the water

heater.

Calluses formed across my hands. Every evening after I finished work, I sat beneath the old apricot tree with

a cup of hot tea and watched the place slowly take shape.

On the seventh day, Ethan appeared at the gate.

He had changed into clean clothes and was carrying a toolbox.

“I came to help.”

I leaned against the doorframe and watched him. After a few seconds, I turned and went inside.

The next morning, the pile of discarded bricks outside the cottage had been stacked neatly.

On the third day, part of the dirt road by the entrance had been leveled.

On the fourth, the leaking section of the roof had been repaired with new shingles.

I did not ask.

He did not come inside.

The work simply appeared, quiet piece by quiet piece, until the outside of the place began to look cared for.

A week later, I found a brown leather notebook by the door.

I opened it. Ethan’s handwriting filled the first page.

It was the same handwriting as the points card from eight years ago, only much neater now.

[Day 1: Fixed Claire’s roof. +10]

[Day 3: Leveled the road outside Claire’s place. +20]

[Day 5: Sorted the old lumber in Claire’s storage shed. +15]

On the final page, he had written one line.

[If I make it to ten thousand points, will you forgive me?]

I closed the notebook, left it on the windowsill by the door, and did not open it again.

The next day, it was gone.

On the third day, it appeared on the windowsill again with a few new lines.

[Day 12: Helped Claire move the new mattresses. +10]

[Day 13: Fixed the leaking pipe behind Claire’s place. +15]

The old apricot tree began to yellow. Leaves fell one by one onto the brick patio.

I was sweeping near the gate when another line in the notebook caught the corner of my eye.

[Day 15: She smiled. +100]

I stood there gripping the broom for a few seconds. Then I turned and kept sweeping.

Three years later.

When white blossoms opened in spring, their sweet scent drifted all the way down the lane.

I was behind the front desk polishing a glass when my phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number lit the

screen.

[Ten thousand points. Take a look.]

I tapped the link. The familiar points app interface opened.

He had spent three years rebuilding the same system, only this time our roles were reversed.

The page was packed with every point he had earned over those three years.

The newest line read: [Total: 10000 points.]

Below it, in smaller text: [Claire, can we talk face-to-face, just once?]

I set my phone on the counter and kept polishing the glass.

When I finished, I put it in the cabinet.

At dusk, Ethan appeared at the gate.

He gripped the brown leather notebook in one hand. The cover had faded with wear, its corners curled.

He was thinner than he had been three years ago. Older, too. A faint scar ran along his brow, probably from one of the countless repairs he had done.

He walked into the yard and stopped beneath the apricot tree.

“Ten thousand points.”

“Claire, I know what I did before…”

“Ethan.”

I looked at that familiar face.

“You spent three years earning points, and you think that’s something to be proud of?”

His mouth moved, but no words came.

“I earned points for eight years.”

“When you docked me point by point, you never once said, ‘Look.’ Now you’re standing here using the same

rules I had to live by, asking me to look at you. Do you think that’s fair?”