It was our eighth anniversary party. I lost at Truth or Dare. My punishment? A full glass of 151 rum. The amber liquid sat before me. All eyes in the Manhattan penthouse locked onto Julian Vance. The taunts began. “Julian, time to be the hero!” “Take the fall for your queen!” After all, everyone in New York high society knows me. Aurora Hayes. Severely allergic to alcohol. Five years ago, one bite of a rum cake put me in anaphylactic shock. I ended up in the ICU. Julian stayed by my bedside for three days, his eyes bloodshot. He swore he’d never let me touch a drop of alcohol again. I looked at him. But Chloe, his new intern, sat beside him. She pouted, her innocent look now edged with challenge. “Oh? Does sweet Aurora get to skip the rules?” The party fell silent. Julian didn’t take the glass away. Instead, he calmly pushed it closer to me. “She’s right. A game’s a game.” He ruffled my hair. “Be good. I brought your EpiPen. I won’t let anything happen.” Triumph flashed in Chloe’s eyes. I didn’t glance at the medicine in Julian’s hand. My hand closed around the glass of rum. I tilted my head back and downed it. The liquor burned my throat like a blade. Julian was right. A game’s a game. This eight-year game of love was over. … The rum hit my stomach like a bomb. I grabbed the marble countertop. “Excuse me,” I muttered, stumbling towards the door. After my last ICU trip, my doctor’s warning was dire. He’d said it in front of Julian. For my allergy, pills were useless. Alcohol meant immediate throat swelling. I would need an injection and a hospital, fast. A mild reaction meant shock. A severe one meant death. Luckily, a private hospital was across the street. I could make it. “Aurora!” I reached the door when Julian grabbed my wrist. “It’s just a game. Don’t be dramatic. Here, take this. I’ll drive you to the hospital now.” From his suit pocket, he produced a sleek metal case. The cap twisted off as he tipped it into his palm. Empty. He froze, shaking it again; nothing.
Julian looked stunned. His head snapped towards Chloe. “Mr. Vance…” Chloe blinked, her voice trembling. “The… the stuff inside… I threw it out…” “I was tidying your suit jacket… I thought it was an empty, expired vitamin bottle, so I got rid of it.” Her eyes welled up as she spoke. My throat started itching and burning. My vision began to blur. Julian finally realized something was wrong, pulling me close. He glanced at Chloe, let out a sigh, and said, “Just be careful next time.” A bitter sting shot through my chest. I leaned on him, each breath a struggle. After eight years together, I knew Julian inside and out. He was a control freak, possessive of his space. No one, including me, was allowed to touch his things. When we first moved in, I tidied his study once. I organized some papers he’d left on his desk. He came home, saw it, and his face went dark. He didn’t speak to me for the rest of the night. I sent over twenty apology texts. He read every single one but ignored them all. A midnight drive to his office, Beef Wellington in hand, was my last resort. All that effort earned me was a grudging, “Don’t let it happen again.” I learned my lesson that night. From then on, his things were completely off-limits. But Chloe, an intern for six months, went through his pockets. She threw away the medicine that could save my life. And all she got was a soft, “Just be careful next time.” The color drained from my lips. A frantic rhythm hammered in my chest. Then my legs gave out from under me. I slid down his body, falling to the ground. “Aurora!” Julian’s voice was sharp with panic. He fumbled, trying to lift me. The room erupted into chaos. Someone yelled, “Call an ambulance!” Chloe let out a piercing scream. “Ah!” The arms about to lift me paused. Then they pulled away, turning elsewhere. A sickening thud. My head slammed against the cold, hard floor. The crystal chandelier above shattered into glittering specks. Through the haze, I saw Julian’s back. He was bent over Chloe, anxiously checking her ankle. Something deep inside me snapped. A voice in my head spoke with clarity. This eight-year game of love was over. I had lost. Then, everything went black. I blacked out.
I woke up in a private VIP room. A nurse came to check my vitals. “Miss Hayes, you’re aware of your severe allergy to alcohol, correct?” I just nodded. She flipped through her clipboard, her tone sharp. “You knew, and you drank anyway? You were in shock last night. Ten more minutes, and you would’ve been dead.” My head cleared a little. I held onto one last sliver of hope. “Who… who brought me here?” She gave me a look like I was an idiot. “The paramedics. A server found you passed out on the apartment floor and called 911.” It was his party with all his friends. If even he left me there, why would any of them help? The nurse was still lecturing me. “Remember, you can never, ever touch alcohol again.” “I know. I’ll make sure she stays away from it.” I froze, my head snapping towards the voice. Julian stood in the doorway. Chloe stood right behind him.
She was wearing a cream cashmere sweater. It had a small, embroidered logo, a perfect match to the one Julian had on. That was the matching set I’d commissioned from a designer in Italy for his birthday. We were supposed to wear them on our trip to the Amalfi Coast. But Julian had always called the sweater “childish.” He never once put it on. Yet here he was, wearing his, while he’d given mine to Chloe. His eyes caught mine; he nervously tugged at the hem of his sweater. “Things got messy last night. A drink spilled all over Chloe’s silk dress, soaked right through. I had to take her back to the apartment to change. By the time I got back, the server said an ambulance had already taken you.” His explanation revealed an even crueler truth. The night I was being rushed to the ER, he took the woman who pushed me to drink to our home. Bile rose in my throat, but nothing came up. Chloe hid behind him, looking like a scared little rabbit. “Aurora, I am so, so sorry about last night. I told Mr. Vance this morning I absolutely had to apologize in person.” I didn’t say a word. My eyes were locked on the sweater she was wearing. My voice was ice when I finally spoke. “Take it off.” Chloe shuddered. Julian immediately stepped in front of Chloe. “Aurora, what the hell are you saying? She came to apologize and you’re telling her to strip?” My knuckles went white on the bedsheets. I gritted my teeth, my glare burning past him, fixed on the collar of her sweater. “I said, take it off!”
Tears instantly flooded Chloe’s eyes. She shot a helpless glance at Julian, then slowly unzipped the sweater. Beneath it, a vintage dress appeared. It was a vintage Dior. My mother’s hands had restored it for me, the same winter she was diagnosed with cancer. The chemo made her hands tremble. But from her hospital bed, stitch by painful stitch, she mended the torn lace and intricate beadwork. She told me she wanted me to wear it for our first dance at the wedding. “I might not be there to see it, honey… but if you wear this, it’s like I’m with you.” I remembered Julian making a solemn vow. “I swear, if I ever hurt Aurora, I don’t deserve to live.” My mom just looked at him, sighed, and said nothing. After she died, I held that dress and cried for days. I thought at least I still had him. But that promise was now smoke. Julian’s eyes followed mine, landing on the dress. His expression changed. His voice was sharp, accusatory. “Why are you wearing that?” Tears clung to Chloe’s lashes as she bit her lip. “You said I could pick anything from the closet… I saw this one in the very back and just assumed it was… old…” Her hands trembled as she fumbled with the side zipper. “I’ll take it off for Aurora right now.” There was a sharp, tearing sound. She’d yanked the fragile antique zipper. The seam my mother had sewn at the waist ripped apart. A long gash now split the delicate satin.
“Chloe!” I shot up in bed, my eyes burning with rage. “Ah!” she shrieked, clutching the torn fabric to her chest. “I… I didn’t mean to.” “Enough!” Julian snapped, shrugging off his jacket and wrapping it around her shoulders. “Aurora, it’s just a dress. Did you really have to push her this far?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “That dress was…” “I know. The last thing your mother gave you…” His voice rose, thick with impatience. “But she’s gone! It’s just a dress. Things get old, they tear. It happens. If you’re so attached, I’ll have a replica made. A perfect one. Ten of them, if you want! A hundred!” A white-hot rage flooded my veins. My grip on the sheets tightened; blood backed up into the IV tube. “My mother restored this herself! It’s one of a kind! You can’t buy that!” As we screamed at each other, Chloe’s sobs grew louder. “Please, stop fighting… It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have worn your clothes. I’ll pay for it, okay?” She pulled out a cheap, worn-out purse and fumbled for crumpled bills. A twenty, a ten, a five… “Take this. If it’s not enough, I’ll give you my paycheck next month… and the month after…” She held out the pathetic pile of cash, leaning over to place it on my nightstand. The jacket slipped, exposing her bare shoulder again. Chloe gasped, scrambling to cover herself, her face a mask of embarrassment. His face filled with pity, Julian pulled a black card from his wallet. He threw it on the bed. “There’s two million on it. Buy all the vintage dresses you could ever want.” He looked down on me, his eyes like chips of ice. “Aurora, what have you become? Humiliating a girl over a dress, trying to shame her with money. You’re being irrational. Get some rest. We won’t bother you again.” He put his arm around Chloe and walked out without a glance.
Before she left, Chloe looked back over her shoulder. With a victorious smile on her face, she raised an eyebrow. Then she hooked her arm through Julian’s, right in front of me. The door slammed shut. I picked up the black card, tears finally breaking free. This was the card for our joint trust account. We’d made a pact to put money in it every month. It was for our future wedding, our first house, our global travels… our entire life together. And now, for another woman, he took it out without hesitation. My tears dripped onto the plastic, blurring our names. “Aurora Hayes” and “Julian Vance” bled together into an unrecognizable smudge. Just like our relationship.
I checked myself out of the hospital alone. I went back to our penthouse in SOHO to pack. Now that it was over, nothing was left for me in that home. The apartment was a rental. A clean break. I dragged out a suitcase and started throwing things inside. A folder tumbled out from the walk-in closet. I bent down to grab it and saw what was inside: a property deed. My whole body went rigid and I rubbed my eyes hard. The owner’s name was printed in sharp, clear letters: Chloe Miller. The date on the deed was three years ago. A sudden, icy dread washed over me. Chloe had only started at Julian’s company six months ago. An intern, who was immediately made his executive assistant. I’d questioned it. Making an intern his right-hand woman seemed reckless. But Julian said he’d seen himself in her. A kid from nothing who just needed a chance, just like he’d been. He never mentioned they already knew each other. He kept saying Chloe was just an employee. And I believed him. But looking at this, the lies started three years ago. The rot in our relationship had set in long ago. I was just now smelling the stench. Then, I heard a key turning in the lock. “Aurora?”
Julian’s face lit up when he saw me. He smiled. “You’re back. Why didn’t you call? I would’ve picked you up.” He didn’t explain why Chloe was behind him. He strode over to hug me, boasting to her over his shoulder. “See? I told you. Aurora can’t stay mad at me for long.” I dodged his arm and threw the property deed down in front of him. “What is this?” The smile vanished from his face. “Oh, that…” He swallowed, forcing a casual tone. “Chloe’s from my hometown. Her family is struggling. They wanted her to drop out and marry for money. No education, no way to survive in the city. So when she came to New York, I set her up with a small apartment through the company.” “But don’t worry, it’s just a loan. She’ll pay it back.” He shot a look at Chloe. “Right, Chloe?” I thought of her crumpled bills in the hospital. The irony almost made me laugh. “How is someone who pays for a dress in installments going to repay a three-million-dollar apartment?” Chloe’s face turned bright red. The innocent act dropped. “Who the hell are you to judge me? You’re the other woman here. Why shouldn’t my fiancé spend money on me?” She grabbed Julian’s arm, chin held high, pointing right at me. “Truth is, when we wore those matching outfits, we were meeting the parents. We’re engaged, and we’re setting a date.” The words hit me like a lightning bolt, the room starting to spin. I had prepared myself for him cheating. I had prepared for lies. But I never, ever imagined he had a whole fiancée back home. I stared at him in disbelief, my lips trembling. “Is that… true?”
His eyes darted away, unable to meet my gaze. “It was an old arrangement from back home. A promise our families made… But I swear, nothing happened between us! I have never cheated on you!” He sighed, as if making a huge sacrifice. “Since you already know, I’ll just be straight with you. The apartment is compensation for her.” “Why are we compensating her?” Julian just kept finding a new low. That apartment was worth three million dollars. Two million of that was my inheritance. My mother’s legacy. Another six hundred thousand was from my personal savings. Julian only put in four hundred thousand, and half of that was a loan. His face flushed with anger. “I’ve supported you for eight years! So what if you pitched in?” I gave him the seed money. My contacts were his first clients. I built the core of that company. He was just the face of the operation, and now he was claiming he supported me. The sting of betrayal faded, leaving only a cold numbness. I looked at him, my voice flat and steady. “Julian. We’re done.” I grabbed my suitcase and turned to leave. His face tightened as he started after me. But Chloe grabbed his arm. “You can go. But you need to pay the rent first.” “This apartment is in my name. You’ve lived here three years without paying a single dime.” I stopped dead and turned back to Julian. Seeing he had my attention, his tone softened instantly. “Alright, stop making a scene. I just hadn’t gotten around to telling you. And let’s be real, Aurora. You’re twenty-eight. Who do you think you’ll find after me? Be smart, okay?” Right on cue, Chloe snickered. I looked at the man in front of me. He was not the man who knelt by my mother’s bedside and swore to protect me. At this point, I didn’t even care about the money anymore. I looked up at Julian, and a slow smile spread across my face. “Fine.”
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