She Taught Him How To Love: He Used It To Destroy Me Chapter 01

She Taught Him How To Love: He Used It To Destroy Me Chapter 01

Ethan Cross had a childhood friend who was a well-known relationship influencer.

He believed that dating couldn’t rely on instinct—it had to follow The Rules she taught.

Vanessa Pierce said women were like cats—starve them a little and they’d get clingy.

So when I worked late into the night, he locked the door and forced me to wait in the hallway until dawn.

Vanessa said not to give women too much security.

So at our Engagement Party, he vanished just to test if I’d break down.

Every time I cried until I shook, he just frowned and sighed.

“Vanessa says that’s Low-Value Behavior,” he said.

“I’m taking responsibility for our future.”

Until my mom Margaret Clarke had a stroke and ended up in the ICU.

I borrowed from everyone I knew, but I was still short the twenty thousand he had.

He didn’t transfer the money—instead, he sent my desperate voice message to Vanessa.

That night, it went viral.

[Girlfriend uses dying mom to ask for money—catfish?”]

My mom’s critical condition report was posted with personal info blurred, judged and mocked by the whole internet.

Comments praised him for being clear-headed and called me desperate and greedy.

Teary-eyed, I begged him to take it down.

Ethan just smirked.

“People are just helping me cut my losses,” he said.

“What you should reflect on is why you look so much like a scammer.”

At that moment, I suddenly didn’t want to explain anymore.

I just wanted to walk away clean from this rotten relationship.

***

The Billing Office closed in ten minutes.

I swiped my card three times—the balance kept showing thirteen thousand six hundred.

The nurse pushed the paperwork across the counter.

“You’re still short twenty thousand for the deposit,” she said.

“If it’s not paid by midnight, her medication will be affected.”

I clutched the bill and ran out of the hospital.

It was raining outside—the Jewelry Store was just across the street.

“The diamond’s small, and the setting’s scratched,” the clerk said.

“Best I can do is eighteen thousand.”

Ethan had paid sixty-eight thousand for it.

The day we tried on rings, he held my hand and walked with me all afternoon.

The one I loved cost a hundred and twenty thousand.

He squeezed my hand.

“On our tenth anniversary, I’ll get you a bigger one.”

On the way back, Vanessa sent him a dozen voice messages.

“Don’t feed a woman too much at once,” she said.

“If you satisfy her the first time, her demands will only get higher.”

In the end, he went back to the mall and bought this one.

Vanessa even praised him on her live stream.

“If you let a woman pick it herself, she’ll rationalize it for you because she invested time in it.”

Back then, I actually made excuses for him.

I pushed the ring across the counter.

“Sell it.”

Ethan finally called.

“Where are you?”

“The Jewelry Store across from the hospital.”

He paused.

“You sold the ring?”

“My mom needs the money for her treatment.”

“Ivy, why do you always have to take things to such an extreme?”

I clutched the receipt.

“Ethan, my mom’s in the ICU.”

“I know.”

“I came, didn’t I?”

He stood across the street, holding a thermal bag from the takeout place behind the hospital that sold oatmeal.

I ran over, and he reached out to wipe the rain from my forehead.

“Why are you dressed so lightly?”

Inside the bag was Oatmeal with Brown Sugar—less sugar, no peanuts.

Seeing the familiar packaging, my eyes suddenly burned.

Ethan unscrewed the lid and handed me the spoon.

“Have a couple bites first.”

I was about to reach for it when his phone rang.

Vanessa’s voice came through the speakerphone.

“She’s emotionally heightened right now—don’t rush to comfort her,” she said.

“Get her to record a clarification video first.

“Otherwise she’ll think the louder she screams, the more she gets.”

Ethan’s hand holding the spoon paused.

He glanced at me, then re-covered the oatmeal.

“I didn’t lie,” he said.

“You saw the critical condition notice.”

He frowned.

“A stroke doesn’t mean certain death,” he said.

“Vanessa checked—many patients wake up the next day.”

“You came at me crying for money right away—anyone would be suspicious.”

Ethan held his phone out to me.

On the screen was a pre-written statement:

[I exaggerated my mother’s condition due to excessive anxiety.]

[I was never refused help by Ethan Cross.]

[Thank you, Ms. Vanessa Pierce, for your timely reminder.]

“Read it,” he said.

“When you’re done, she’ll take down the post, and I’ll transfer the money.”