I Sent Him 89 Voice Messages He Sent 89 Transfers Chapter 02

I Sent Him 89 Voice Messages He Sent 89 Transfers Chapter 02

“Maya, am I just an ATM to you tonight?”

“My parents, my fellow soldiers, even Ivy all said you were a scammer. But I didn’t want to believe them.”

“My father punished me severely for my decision, and I was still lying in the base hospital yelling that I was going to marry you.”

His voice was raw. His eyes were red and strained, filled with exhaustion and pain.

I started shaking. Tears blurred my vision. “No, Cole, it’s my dad—”

“Today is our wedding day!” He cut me off, sharp.

He ripped off his dress uniform tie and threw it on the ground.

“You’re really going to show your true colors right now?”

“Cole, I’ll pay you back. I’ll sign an IOU!”

“Forget it.” He laughed coldly. His eyes were ice. “You’re just throwing good money after empty promises. Don’t keep up this act. Stop pretending. You’re exactly what they said.”

He slammed the door and left me alone in our empty new house.

It was our wedding night. I waited in theMy father punished me severely for my decision living room until four in the morning.

What came back was him, dead drunk, Ivy holding him up.

The hickey on his neck was bright red under the hallway light.

Ivy gave me an apologetic, innocent smile. “Sorry, sis. Cole took his anger out on me. Get some rest. I’ll leave you alone.”

I was too young back then. My heart felt like it was going to explode.

Afraid he’d misunderstand even more, I dared not so much as touch his military benefits card that lay on the table.

That thirty thousand dollars. In the end, one of his fellow soldiers lent it to me.

In exchange for the loan, I had to attend a drinking party at the military guest house and finish three full cups of spirits.

I was forced to drink repeatedly until I was violently ill and could not stop vomiting.

Cole came to pick me up in the middle of the night. His face was terrifyingly dark.

He didn’t say a word the whole drive. Then he exploded when we got home.

“Do you even know what could have happened to you if I’d gotten there any later?”

“Is money really that important to you? Have you no shame?”

I sat in the car, humiliated beyond words.

My stomach burned with unbearable, wrenching pain. But my heart was even colder.

From that day forward, the label of gold digger stuck to me and could never be shaken off.

His soldiers made jokes about me. He never defended me. Sometimes he even laughed.

Later, my father didn’t make it. He drew his last breath at the military general hospital.

The day he died, I called Cole in a panic, rambling.

He was directing a military exercise. He hung up on me.

I sent more voice messages. Some explaining, some just screaming into the void.

After a long time, my phone buzzed. He transferred eight thousand eight hundred eighty-eight dollars.

The note said only: “My condolences.”

I stared at the numbers. My hands shook. My face went gray.

After that day, Cole and I became legal spouses. Strangers under the same roof.

He never replied to my texts anymore.

He only sent endless money transfers, a constant reminder of how he saw me.

But strangely, he never brought up divorce.

I picked up my meds from the pharmacy and went back to that cold house.

No warmth anywhere. The pain in my leg bones was getting worse.

It felt as if countless steel needles pierced deep into my bones and flesh.

My hands trembled as I poured out painkillers and swallowed two sedative tablets as well.

The drugs hit fast. My consciousness started to fade.

I looked up at the giant wedding photo on the wall.

Cole Hawthorne in his crisp dress uniform. Smiling so wide.

His eyes reflecting the sunlight. And me in white.

That was when we loved each other most. This photo was taken inside the military auditorium in our happier days.