Last time around, I blew up my life for Ethan Vance. I torched the bridge with my parents, all for him. But when I was the one lying in a hospital bed, eaten up by pain, what did he do? He took the emergency fund my parents left me – my lifeline – and used it to bankroll his side piece. Then, I opened my eyes again. This time, I ran straight into my parents’ arms. And I pulled out every single receipt, every bill for the car, the condo, everything I’d bought for Ethan over the years. “You’ve got three days to pay back every cent. Or I’ll see you in court.” Feeling sorry for a guy like him was the start of my nightmare. Spending money on him? That cursed my whole damn life. I proved that the hard way, with my own stupid existence. But I got a do-over. I’m back. Back to the day the debt collectors came knocking. Bang, bang, bang. “Chloe! Chloe, open up! Come on, Chloe!” The pounding on the door was relentless. I knew it was my boyfriend, Ethan. But no matter how hard he hammered on that door today, there was no way in hell I was opening it. Because I knew who was with him. Three guys he owed money to. Big money. Ethan had secretly taken out a predatory loan, some serious high-interest crap, and now he couldn’t pay it back. He’d told the loan sharks his girlfriend was Chloe Ashford, daughter of the Ashfords, the richest family in Westbridge. He assured them I could cover his debt. But I’d already cut ties with my parents to be with him. The day I walked out, I didn’t take a dime. The only reason we weren’t broke was because I’d been selling off my designer bags. Last time, I panicked. Worried about him, I opened the door. The collectors barged in, couldn’t find any cash, and decided they’d take one of Ethan’s legs instead. But right as the blade – yeah, a blade – came down, Ethan shoved me forward. Just like that, I lost my leg. Disabled for life. Later, Ethan swore up and down he was just terrified, that he didn’t mean to do it. And I believed him. Like an idiot. I thought, I took this hit for him. He’ll cherish me now, love me more. I couldn’t have been more wrong. After my parents died in that accident, he took every penny they left me and spent it on his mistress. Without a leg, I was trapped, useless in a hospital bed. Losing my parents on top of that crushed me. I was drowning in grief. And the man I gave up everything for? He wasn’t there comforting me. Oh no. He brought his little fling to my bedside, bold as brass, just to rub it in my face. I’ll never forget that day. Ethan had his arm around her waist; she was snuggled up against him. So cozy, so in love. They looked sickeningly perfect together. Tears streaming down my face, I choked out, “Ethan, how could you do this to me?” He looked at me with pure disgust. “Look at yourself, Chloe. That empty pant leg? You probably scare people just going outside. Do you have any idea how gross it feels when I accidentally touch that stump in bed at night?” “I’ve got a car, a condo, money in the bank now. I can get any girl I want. Why would I stay tied to some disgusting cripple?” “Look at the cheap crap you’re wearing! Look at your face – all sallow and worn out. What part of you is good enough for me anymore?” I stared at him through my tears. At the face that once seemed so bright, so warm, the face that promised me the world. Same face, same person. How did it turn into this? You hate my empty pant leg? You think it’s disgusting? Did you forget why I’m like this? It was because of YOU! You hate my tired face, my cheap clothes? Did you forget I used to drop hundreds on a single bottle of face cream? That I had so much allowance I practically burned it for fun? I was that girl, the heiress. I gave it all up… for you! Ethan cleaned out the inheritance my parents left me. Didn’t leave me a cent. No money meant no medical care. The hospital kicked me out. No money meant my leg injury got worse, infected. I dragged myself around on that stump until I literally starved to death under a highway overpass. Remembering all that… fresh tears streamed down my face. How could I have been so stupid? But after the crying stopped, I clenched my fists. This time? Things would be different. No more mistakes. Without me, his little human shield, things went down differently this time. The loan sharks took one of Ethan’s legs instead. Clean off. They snarled a warning – pay up in a month, or they take the other one – then left. When I finally opened the door, he was lying in a pool of his own blood, howling in agony. Neighbors poked their heads out, drawn by the noise. Some were already recording videos, probably posting them online. I put on my best shocked act, rushing towards him, screaming through fake tears. “Ethan! Oh my god, what happened? Don’t scare me like this!” “Help! Somebody help!” A kind soul nearby called 911 and got an ambulance on the way. I played the part of the terrified, helpless girlfriend, hiding my face, sobbing uncontrollably. By the time the paramedics arrived, Ethan had passed out from the pain. I looked down at his leg. Or where his leg used to be. It was gone. Completely. Heh. A cold little smile touched my lips. This time around, you get to see what life’s like with only one leg, Ethan. The loan sharks hadn't messed around. Ethan's leg was totally severed. The doctors said there was zero chance of reattachment. That meant Ethan Vance was going to be hopping through life on one leg forever. Looking at his empty pant leg, I felt a satisfaction so deep it was almost peaceful. Ethan's injuries were severe; the doctors wanted to move him to the ICU for intensive monitoring. I shut that down immediately. My reason? We didn't have that kind of money. Just stick him in a regular room, give him some basic meds, that's it. Because that’s exactly what he told the doctors when I lost my leg. Thanks to him, my injury didn't get treated properly right away, which led to terrible infections later. I was just returning the favor. An eye for an eye, or in this case, a leg for a leg. Being hospitalized meant needing 24/7 care and a whole bunch of follow-up bills. I wasn't spending another dime on Ethan. I made one phone call – straight to his parents’ place back in whatever rural town he crawled out of. Soon enough, his white-haired mother showed up, looking frantic. First, she threw herself onto his hospital bed, wailing dramatically for a good while. Then, she turned on me, face contorted with rage, and lunged. "How could you let this happen? How did you take care of my boy? Why isn't it your leg that's gone? Why did my son lose his leg? Was it you, you little tramp? Messing around, breaking up someone's marriage, and their wife came after you and hurt my Ethan instead? I told him you city girls were nothing but trouble!" Hah. A cold laugh escaped me. "Whether I wrecked a marriage or not, I know the truth. But what I do know for sure is that your son took my money to pay for his mistress!" Last time, after I lost my leg for Ethan, I asked him to call his mom, see if she could come help take care of me for a bit. Her response then was pretty similar to her reaction now: "She probably cheated on someone and got caught by the wife! That's why they chopped her leg off! You expect me to go take care of a shameless woman like that? What would people say? I'd never live it down!" Because of her, I got labeled a homewrecking slut at the hospital back then. Not this time. I wouldn't let them trash my reputation again. Hearing me accuse her precious son of cheating, Ethan's mom went ballistic. She clawed at me. "You little liar! What nonsense are you spewing? My son is a Princeton graduate! A respected manager at a big company! How dare you spread rumors about him? I'll call the cops on you!" I grabbed her wrist, twisted it, and shoved her hard. She stumbled and fell to the floor. "Go ahead. Call them. Let's see who gets arrested – me or you. I've got proof. You don't. That makes your little outburst slander. Enough to get you locked up for a few weeks, easy!" She plopped down on the floor and started throwing a tantrum, wailing like a banshee. "Who says I don't have proof? My son's leg is the proof!" "It's all your fault, you shameless hussy! My son's like this because of you!" Her screeching was loud enough to bring doctors and nurses running. She pointed a trembling finger right at me, making sure everyone could see. "Everyone, look! Look at this shameless woman! She's the reason my son lost his leg! My poor baby! I raised him from nothing, scraped by to give him everything! How am I supposed to live now, an old woman like me?" I just watched her, cold and detached, as she put on her show. Go on, I thought. Make a scene. The bigger the better. Let everyone see exactly what kind of trash Ethan Vance really is. I pulled out my phone and started recording her. "Every word you're saying right now? I'm recording it. This is evidence of you slandering me. Keep going. I guarantee that by the time Ethan wakes up, the whole world will know his mother got herself arrested. Let's see who ends up embarrassed then – you or me." Ethan's mom loved her 'precious boy' more than anything. The thought of embarrassing him shut her up instantly. She stopped screaming but glared at me with pure, venomous hatred. I didn't stick around the hospital any longer. I went straight back to the condo Ethan and I shared, packed my things, and went home. Home to my parents. Ethan clawed his way out of poverty, a scholarship kid from some forgotten town in the mountains. He claimed it was love at first sight with me, pursued me relentlessly. It happened during a time when I was constantly fighting with my parents. They were suffocating me with rules. Ethan brought excitement into my life. Being with him, I did things, saw things I'd never experienced in my sheltered twenty years. I fell hard, completely lost myself in him. My parents hated it. They said he was just after my money. But I was blinded, totally irrational. I chose Ethan, even if it meant cutting off my parents. I broke their hearts. They died in that accident before I ever got the chance to make things right, to even see them again. Seeing me walk back through the door stunned my parents. I threw myself into their arms and just sobbed. "Mom, Dad, I was wrong. I'm so sorry. But please, believe me, I see Ethan for who he really is now. It's over between us. Completely. Forever." I sent Ethan one last text message – "We're done." – then blocked his number, deleted his contact, and stepped back into my life as Chloe Ashford, heiress to the Ashford fortune. Since I'd blocked him, he used someone else's phone to call me. "Where the hell did you go? I'm in this mess, and you just disappear instead of taking care of me? Don't forget, I lost my leg because you wouldn't open the damn door! Get your ass back here right now and pay these hospital bills!" Listening to his entitled ranting, the way he automatically blamed me, I just laughed coldly. "You lost your leg? Serves you right. And you expect me to come back and wait on you hand and foot? Are you kidding me? Don't have a mirror? Find a puddle. Take a good long look at your own disgusting self." I hung up after that satisfying little tirade. Without me, his meal ticket and scapegoat, he could rot in the gutter for all I cared. This time, he'd stay there. Predictably, Ethan got kicked out of the hospital soon after for not paying his bills. Just like what happened to me in my previous life. What I didn't expect was that when he couldn't reach me, he'd actually show up at my family's estate. There he was, slumped in a wheelchair outside the main gates, his mother beside him clutching a bunch of shabby bags. The two of them looked utterly pathetic against the backdrop of our sprawling mansion.
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