Two Million Dollars and Six Wasted Years

1: 1

Quinton James and I had been together six years, and his favorite thing to do was check my phone.

He always said,

My girlfriend's too pretty. I'm scared some other guy will try something.

He deleted every man from my contacts. He didn't even spare my own cousin.

I thought that was love.

Until the day his phone ended up in my bag and the screen suddenly lit up.

A payment alert popped up.

"Allowance for the wife, $52,000 transferred."

I froze for a couple of seconds, then tapped in without quite knowing why.

I opened the history. Every month for the past year, he'd sent money to the same account, like clockwork.

The notes went from "spending money for my baby" to "clothes for the wife," and later to "food and vitamins for the wife and the baby."

Every day he was showing off how in love he was, posting gifts, posting dates, posting photos of the two of them.

Every single post said how much he loved her.

The only person he'd blocked was me.

My fingers shook as I booked a flight home for a week later.

Six years of us. I let it go.

Hands trembling, I put the phone back in my bag.

I sat down on the couch, hands and feet ice-cold, my mind a blank.

Six years with Quinton James, and he'd deleted every man from my contacts until he was the only thing left in my world.

My whole life revolved around him. Every hour I had, I gave to him.

Yet in six years, every birthday, every anniversary, all he ever gave me was a stuffed animal from the gift shop by our building.

His social media feed. Hundreds of posts, and every one of them was about another girl.

He'd wired her over a million dollars.

She was young. Her smile was sweet.

In the newest post, she had one hand resting on her belly, leaning against Quinton's shoulder, her eyes soft as water.

I suddenly realized that the man I'd shared a bed with for six years was someone I'd never really known at all.

I picked up my own phone. My chat with Quinton was still frozen where it had been half an hour ago.

He'd said, "Going out to grab dinner with the guys. Be good at home, okay?"

I closed the chat and canceled the order for our custom wedding ring.

Then I booked a flight home for a week later.

Right then, his phone started buzzing.

I hesitated a few seconds, then hit answer.

It was his buddy Max Henson on the other end.

"Hey, Quinton's drunk, left his phone at home. Any chance you could bring it over, and pick him up while you're at it?"

I was silent for a moment, then said,

"Sure."

At the restaurant, I walked up to the private room and heard the noise blurring together inside.

"Quinton, congrats, man! Proposed to Rosamund Henson today and she said yes!"

"I'm jealous. Successful career, a beautiful woman on your arm. You've got it all."

Then someone spoke up.

"So what are you going to do about Noreen Pruitt?"

Quinton's voice came slow and lazy with the drink.

"We've been together six years. She can't leave me. I'll give her a wedding when the time comes, and as for the marriage certificate, I'll just fake one to keep her happy."

The room roared with laughter.

"Nice. One gets the certificate, one gets the wedding. No conflict for you at all."

I stood outside the door like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over my head.

His friends, I'd barely ever met. Because Quinton never let me add them.

Every time, he'd say,

"My girlfriend's too pretty. I'm scared some other guy will try something."

But it never occurred to me that his buddies all knew he was playing two women against each other.

I clenched my fists hard, turned, and left.

Quinton came home late that night, reeking of alcohol.

He walked up to me with a wounded look.

"Noreen, why didn't you come get me?"

I said nothing.

He held up the bag in his hand.

"Your favorite. Palmier pastries from South Southport. I stood in line two hours for these."

The old me would have thrown my arms around him already.

But now I finally understood. Those little gifts he brought home after every night out were nothing but a guilty conscience.

I said flatly,

"I'm not hungry. Go to bed."

Late that night, my stomach began to ache, faint at first.

I lay there with my eyes open until morning, and the pain kept getting worse, my face going pale, cold sweat breaking out layer after layer.

Quinton was at the entryway changing his shoes, about to leave.

I called out to him weakly.

"Quinton, I don't feel well. Can you take me to the hos"

He cut me off without turning around.

"Noreen, I've got things at the office today. I'm heading out."

The door shut with a snap.

The pain curled me into a ball, cold sweat soaking my clothes, my vision starting to blur.

I stretched for my phone with everything I had. The second my fingertips touched it, it slipped to the floor, and I went down with it.

With the last of my strength, I dialed for an ambulance.

Then everything went black, and I knew nothing more.

When I woke, I was lying in a hospital bed.

A nurse pushed the door open, saw my eyes were open, and smiled.

"You're awake? You had us scared when they brought you in. Ectopic pregnancy, heavy bleeding. Half an hour later and you'd have been gone."

I froze.

She flipped through the chart.

"Good thing the surgery was in time. You need to take better care of yourself from now on. Where's your family?"

I looked up, my eyes dry, not a single tear left in me.

Just then, a familiar voice came from out in the hallway.

2: 2

"Baby, you must be tired after the checkup. Here's ten grand of spending money, use it however you want."

I lay propped against the hospital bed, watching them pass by the door.

Quinton had one hand at Rosamund's waist, a thermos in the other, the two of them laughing as they drifted farther down the hall.

I looked away. Something inside my chest clenched hard.

Quinton didn't text until night.

"Where'd you go? Why aren't you home?"

I answered calmly.

"I'm in the hospital."

The call came a second later, his voice trembling with panic.

"What happened? Why are you in the hospital? What's going on? Why didn't you tell me?"

I drew a slow breath.

"Let's break"

There was a strange, muffled sound on the other end.

His voice went obviously flustered.

"Something urgent came up at work, I have to go. I'll come see you first thing tomorrow morning."

I listened to the busy tone, gripping the phone, and my mouth twitched.

Then something occurred to me, and I opened the home security app.

I'd had the cameras installed a while back and never once looked at the feed.

The image loaded.

Quinton and Rosamund, lying on the very bed I slept in every night.

The girl nuzzled against his chest, pouting.

"Even now, you still find time to call her?"

Quinton dipped his head and kissed her forehead.

"I hung up, didn't I, you little jealous thing."

The girl laughed and wrapped her arms around him.

"Okay, okay, I'm teasing. Don't worry, I'll get along with her just fine from now on."

The words had barely left her mouth before Quinton pressed her down into the bed.

"Forget about her for now. Let's take care of us."

The kind of sounds that make your face burn came through the phone.

I killed the screen fast.

My stomach heaved, and I grabbed the trash can beside me and threw up.

Right up until I was discharged, Quinton never came to the hospital once.

He only sent a few messages.

"Did you catch a cold, run a fever? Get some rest. Work's been crazy lately, I've got a last-minute business trip."

Work.

Back when we first got together, he was still building his startup.

I couldn't stand watching him go around begging people for investment, so I gave him two million dollars. He held me and swore he'd be good to me for the rest of his life.

All these years, I never checked the company's books, never asked about the profits or losses.

That thought put me in a cab straight to his company.

The moment I reached the front desk, a girl stopped me.

"Who are you looking for?"

"I'm here for Quinton James," I said.

She looked me up and down.

"Do you have an appointment? What are you to Mr. James?"

Another girl leaned out of an office.

"Who's this? Another one who's got her eye on our Mr. James?"

She shook her head, smiling.

"Save yourself the trouble. Our Mr. James has a wife, and they're crazy about each other."

"A good man who loves his wife like that, you snooze you lose."

Just then Quinton and Rosamund came in, laughing together.

The instant he saw me, his whole body froze.

"You... what are you doing here?"

I bit down hard on my lip, looking at him, then at Rosamund beside him.

The next second, I raised my hand and slapped him across the face.

But right after, pain exploded across my own cheek.

Rosamund had slapped me, and she glared at me, furious.

"What do you think you're doing, hitting my husband?"

I held my cheek and looked coldly at the two of them.

"Quinton, we're done."

Then I turned and walked out.

Back at the place we lived, I opened the closet and started packing.

That bed in the bedroom, they'd slept in it. Everything inside it, I didn't want any of it anymore.

The thought that they might have tangled together in every corner of this room made me sick.

The front door was suddenly shoved open.

Quinton rushed in and grabbed my wrist.

"Noreen! Let me explain!"

"There was this one time I went out drinking for work and had too much, and she happened to be working part-time at that place, and I accidentally... took her first time, and after that we just..."

"Rosamund's a sweet, innocent girl. She's pregnant. I can't just abandon her, and I can't abandon my child."

I was so angry I laughed.

"And me? What does that make me to you?"

He shook his head desperately, his eyes going red.

"Noreen, the one I love most is you, of course it is."

"I love you, but I can't let go of her either. Our wedding goes ahead as planned. Everything you're owed, you'll get, down to the last thing."

I remembered what I'd heard that day, him saying he'd get me a fake marriage certificate, and the fury shot straight to my head.

"Don't bother. We're finished."

"And the two million I gave you to start your company, wire it to my account within three days."

His face changed, and he started to say something more.

I turned to go. He grabbed my arm and clung to it, refusing to let go.

Right then his phone buzzed like mad.

A sobbing voice came through.

"Quinton, where are you... my stomach hurts..."

He released me and hurried out.

"Noreen, wait for me to come back. We'll talk this through."

The door shut, and the apartment fell completely silent.

I found a hotel and got a room.

My best friend Maria Gilbert called, and after she heard the whole thing, she cursed him out on the phone for half an hour.

She dragged me out to eat and take my mind off it. I had no appetite, but she pulled me out the door anyway.

The moment we walked into the restaurant, a group of people came toward us.

Quinton was in front, Rosamund on his arm.

Behind her trailed a few friends, all laughing and chatting.

My steps stopped.

Just then, out of nowhere, someone stuck out a foot.

I tripped hard and went down onto the floor.

Maria crouched down fast to help me up, then looked up and glared at the group.

"What is wrong with you people?"

Rosamund covered her mouth and giggled, all innocence.

"Oh no, I'm so sorry, my friend didn't mean it. Are you okay?"

I braced on Maria's hand and got to my feet, my knee stinging fiercely.

Quinton stood beside her, his lips moving, but in the end he said nothing.

Maria said furiously,

"Quinton, you have no shame! How can you be with Noreen and chase after another woman at the same time?"

3: 3

Across from me, Rosamund's eyes went red at once.

One of her friends jumped in.

"Watch what you say. Our Rosamund was properly proposed to by Quinton, and they're about to get the license. The one who shouldn't be here is that woman next to you."

Maria was so angry her eyes had gone red too.

"Noreen and Quinton have been together almost six years. Who's the real one and who's the intruderanyone with eyes can see that."

I looked at Quinton.

His brows were drawn tight, and there was no color in his face.

Rosamund's friend rounded on him, pressing.

"Quinton, say something. Are you just going to stand there and watch someone stomp all over Rosamund?"

Quinton suddenly came over and pulled me aside.

He lowered his voice.

"Just go home, all right? I'll explain later. Rosamund's pregnantshe can't take the stress."

Maria heard it and pointed straight at the suit on his back.

"That suit Quinton's wearingNoreen bought it for him six years ago."

"Back then Quinton was starting his company and didn't have a dime. Noreen paid his rent, bought his clothes, brought in his investors. All of it came from her."

"Now that he's got a little money, he goes and messes around, is that it? Do you have any conscience left?"

Rosamund's tears spilled over, and she spun to run out.

Quinton grabbed her and held her back.

He whipped around and shouted at Maria and me.

"Enough! Stop it!"

"Rosamund and I are already engaged. We're getting the license soon. She's carrying my child. She is not the other woman!"

Watching him plant himself in front of Rosamund like a shield, I suddenly had nothing left to say.

I turned to go.

Just then one of Rosamund's friends grabbed a cake and hurled it at me.

Maria reached out to pull me clear, but it was too late.

The whole cake smeared across my face, thick cream sliding down my hair and dripping to the floor.

They started yelling.

"Home-wrecking little slut! Everybody come looka shameless woman like this!"

The other diners turned to stare.

Someone raised a phone.

Through the blur, I saw Quinton take Rosamund's hand and walk away.

Maria helped me into the car, too furious now to get her words out straight.

"That was too far. That was really too far"

I patted her shoulder.

"Don't be upset. I'm ready to break up with him. My things are already moved out. My flight's tomorrow."

Maria pulled me into a hug.

"Noreen, I worried about you from the day you chose him. Wherever you go from now on, if anything happens, you call me."

The words had barely left her mouth when my phone rang.

The second I picked up, a stream of abuse came pouring down the line.

"You filthy slut! Sleeping your way onto a pregnant woman's man! I've seen plenty of your typeyou'll get what's coming to you! She's pregnant, and you still have no shame!"

4: 4

I hung up fast.

My phone kept ringing, one unknown number after another.

Someone had posted the restaurant video online, and the comments were all curses aimed at me.

I switched the phone off completely.

Maria's eyes were full of tears.

"How could Rosamund and the others do something like that"

I gave a small smile.

"It doesn't matter. From now on I have nothing to do with any of them."

The next day I picked up my suitcase, ready to leave for the airport.

Quinton came charging at me out of nowhere and kicked my luggage over.

His eyes were bloodshot, his face full of fury.

"Was it you who sent people to hassle Rosamund?"

I stared at him, baffled.

His voice was low and tight.

"She's more than four months pregnant. You sent people to scare her, made her kneel. She almost lost the baby. You're coming with me right now to apologize to her!"

He grabbed me hard and dragged me back to the apartment we'd lived in for six years.

"Let go! You're hurting me!"

He shoved me in front of Rosamund.

She was sitting on the sofa, crying until her eyes were swollen.

"I know you hate me but you almost killed my child"

I looked at her.

"What on earth are you talking about? I never even touched you!"

Quinton's face was dark.

"You're taking the online stuff out on her, aren't you? Whatever you're angry at me for, come at me, don't put it on her. She did nothing wrong."

I looked at him coldly.

"So what do you want?"

Quinton spoke.

"Kneel down to her. Apologize."

I glared at him, unable to believe it.

"I didn't do anything, and you want me to kneel to her? Are you insane?"

The next second, Quinton forced me down hard.

My knees slammed into the floor, and the pain made me suck in a sharp breath.

"Quinton!"

He pressed my head down, knocked it against the floor three times, then let go.

"You'd better think hard about what you've done!" With that he took Rosamund and left.

I touched my swelling forehead, shaking all over.

I ran through every corner of the apartment and smashed everything I could smash.

The photos on the walls, the ceramics on the cabinets, the flowers I'd arranged myself on the table.

Everything I had put together, piece by piece, over the last six years. Now every single thing was unbearable to look at.

When I was done, I called Maria.

"Find me a good lawyer."

When Maria heard what had just happened, her voice twisted.

"Don't worry. I'll get you the best in the country!"

I sat down and gathered everything from these years with Quintonthe chat logs, the photos, the transfer records, and all the footage from the home security cameraand packaged it together.

I registered a Twitter account under the name "Six Years Fed to a Dog."

Then I wrote a long post laying out every little detail of these past years.

I added the photos and videos, and set it to send on a timer.

Once that was done, I didn't take a single bag with me and went straight to the airport.

As the plane climbed, I leaned against the window and wiped away my last tear.

Meanwhile, Quinton was strolling through a mall with Rosamund, buying her plenty of gifts, then taking her for afternoon tea at a five-star hotel.

He coaxed her patiently.

"Noreen just loves me too much. Don't stoop to her level."

Rosamund pouted.

"Hmph, you always take her side. You don't care about me at all."

Quinton laughed and pinched her cheek.

"You little troublemaker, talking nonsense. I made her kneel and apologize to you. You call that taking her side?"

Right then the guests around the restaurant started whispering, glancing over at Rosamund now and again.

Rosamund grew restless in her seat.

"Why do they keep looking at me"

Quinton reassured her: "Probably because of that video earlier."

A guest at the next table looked at Rosamund and said, just loud enough to carry over,

"Shameless."

Quinton's face darkened, and he was about to stand up when his phone suddenly rang.

"Hello, is this Mr. Quinton James? This is Trueline Law Firm. We need to speak with you regarding Ms. Noreen Pruitt's two-million-dollar investment stake in your company back then. You'll be receiving a court summons; please appear in court when the time comes."

Quinton froze.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

The other end gave a soft laugh.

"It means, calculated on the appreciation of the shares and the dividends"

"You owe Ms. Noreen Pruitt ten million dollars."