She Drew Our Love, She Drew Our End Chapter 01

She Drew Our Love, She Drew Our End Chapter 01

Ethan Prescott’s childhood best friend had an obsession: she let a jar decide everything.

Throughout our relationship, every dollar Ethan and I spent came down to whatever number Sloane Mercer pulled.

When I was burning up with a dangerously high fever, she pulled $1. Ethan bought the cheapest ibuprofen he could find, and I had an allergic reaction that landed me in the ICU.

On our anniversary trip, she pulled $4. Ethan scrapped the itinerary I’d planned and took me riding around the city on a bus instead.

Whenever I got upset, he’d say,

“Don’t start. You got a bad draw. Who else are you going to blame?”

Then, after we got engaged, our families sat down to talk about the Prescotts’ contribution to the wedding.

Sloane sat beside Ethan’s mother and brought out the set of numbered sticks he’d made for her.

She pulled one at random, then burst out laughing.

“$9.99. That’s about what a cheap top with free returns costs online. Sounds lucky to me.”

“Come on, Prescott. Pay up and make her a Prescott already.”

My parents were shaking with anger.

I looked at him. Even here, in front of both our families, I couldn’t believe he was still going to indulge her.

Ethan simply lowered his gaze and took out his phone.

“Cash App: $9.99 received.”

He said,

“Whatever number she pulls, that’s the number. We agreed.”

I didn’t say a word. I sent the money back.

I wasn’t marrying him.

***

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m not marrying you.”

He leaned back in his chair, completely at ease.

“You’re calling off the wedding because Sloane drew $9.99?”

“Since when did money matter this much to you?”

The words went straight through me.

For a beat, the entire room fell silent.

Sloane spoke first, slinging an arm around Ethan’s shoulders.

“My boy, if it weren’t for you, I’d never sign off on this family.”

“People still expect the groom’s family to hand over money for the wedding? What is this, selling your daughter?”

Ethan’s mother lifted her teacup and took a sip.

“If there had ever been anything between Ethan and Sloane, no one else would even be sitting at this table.”

My parents started to speak. I pressed a hand over their trembling ones and looked at Ethan.

“Do you think that too?”

Ethan rubbed his temple and said nothing.

A bitter ache spread through my chest.

I hadn’t understood just how far apart our worlds were until Ethan and I started dating.

His friends called me a gold digger who was only after his money.

He said he didn’t believe them.

But supposedly to protect me from those accusations, he’d had me put the money we used for our relationship into an account Sloane controlled. Her decision jar set our spending limit.

Somewhere along the way, though, the moment I mentioned money, I became greedy.

Sloane rose to her feet, contempt written all over her face.

“My boy, I only drew a second time today because it’s you.”

“All right, future Mrs. Prescott. Let’s see what you’re worth this time.”

Ethan looped an arm around her and laughed.

“See? My best friend’s the only one who really has my back.”

“Don’t worry. Once we’re married, I’ll make sure my wife treats you right.”

Sloane’s mouth curled.

“Yeah, I think I’ll pass on anything that bride serves me.”

With that, Sloane reached into the decision jar and pulled another stick.

“Aw, look at that. Guess marrying rich isn’t going to pay off the way you hoped.”

She shoved the stick inches from my face.

$0.01.

Mom’s eyes turned red.

“It’s fine if you don’t respect us. Once Emmie and Ethan are married, we won’t interfere in their lives.”

“Emmie’s a good girl. She’s always been thoughtful…”

“Mom.”

I cut her off.

“Ethan Prescott, what makes you think I have to marry you?”

He saw the tears gathering in my eyes and started to speak,

but Sloane immediately pinched his cheek.

“My boy, you’re the one who begged me to have the final say whenever the jar had to decide something.”

“If you’re backing out now, I’m never getting involved in your relationship again.”

He pushed her hand away with a smile.

“Then I’ll just beg you again next time.”

Watching them, I remembered the one time I’d accidentally touched his face.

He’d stormed out and scrubbed his face with disinfectant over and over.

Later, he’d apologized, saying he simply wasn’t used to anyone touching his face.

So that hadn’t been it at all. He’d been afraid my cheapness might rub off on him.

Sloane accidentally knocked the decision jar from the table.

A chill swept through me.