The day before our wedding, Benjamin looked me in the eye and told me he’d fallen for someone else. He gave me a choice, as if he were presenting a business merger: we could call it off right now, and he’d handle the humiliating task of apologizing to our families; or, I could go through with it, become Mrs. Benjamin Thorne, and look the other way while he kept his mistress on the side. We had been childhood sweethearts for twenty years. I told myself it was just a mid-life crisis, a flicker of cold feet before the "forever" started. I chose to stay. I didn’t realize that after the wedding, Benjamin would turn into a hollowed-out "payment machine." He paraded his mistress through the city’s most expensive galas, using wire transfers to buy my silence every time I dared to question him. When our son needed a bone marrow transplant, Benjamin backed out at the last minute because his mistress, Jade, told him she "liked her men strong and untainted by hospital wards." He even had the audacity to corner Jade in the funeral home’s private lounge during my mother’s wake. I caught them, the air still thick with the scent of lilies and grief, and he just looked at me with bored, glassy eyes. "Is ten million enough this time?" he sneered, adjusting his tie. "Stop being so relentless, June. It’s exhausting." I didn’t scream. I didn't even cry then. I simply turned and walked away. I knelt by my mother’s fresh grave until my tear ducts ran dry and the earth under my fingernails turned to mud. As the sun began to crawl over the horizon, I pulled out my phone and sent Benjamin a single text: One hundred million. Wire it now. That payment would be our final goodbye. 1 My phone rang almost instantly. Before I could even say hello, Benjamin’s roar vibrated against my ear. "Have I spoiled you that much, June? A hundred million? Who the hell do you think you are—the IRS?!" "Your mother is already dead," he continued, his voice dropping into a cruel, jagged edge. "What I do in a lounge at a funeral home doesn't change that. You think a quick roll in the hay is worth that kind of payout? You’re delusional." He hung up. Was I? Maybe. But even a hundred billion wouldn’t buy back my mother’s dignity or the life she lost. Especially since she died because of him. The wind at the cemetery howled, sharp enough to pierce through my coat and settle in my ribs. I looked at the photo of my mother on the headstone and reached out to stroke the cold marble. I could still hear the state trooper’s voice at the scene of the accident: "She was waiting at the red light, ma'am. Then, it was like she saw something—something that made her lose her mind. She just charged out into traffic... right on New Year's Day. It’s a tragedy." A tragedy. That was one word for it. She had seen Benjamin and Jade kissing in his car across the intersection. Why did she run? Why couldn't she just let it go? I had told her I was going to leave him, that we were done. But her love for me was a fierce, protective thing. In that split second, she didn't see a car; she saw a man destroying her daughter, and she wanted justice. Before the funeral, Benjamin had the nerve to bring Jade around. "Jade and I just got swept up in the moment," he told me, as if he were discussing a weather pattern. "It’s not our fault your mother ran into the street. You can’t pin that on us." "We’ll stick to the usual arrangement," he added, his voice dripping with condescension. "Don't make a scene. I'll just send the transfer." Every word was a scalpel, flaying me alive. I collapsed against the headstone, sobbing until the world went gray. "Mom... I’m so sorry... I should have listened to you and Dad. I never should have married him..." I cried until my body gave out. I fainted right there in the dirt. It wasn't until a groundskeeper found me on his rounds that I was rushed to the ER. I was burning up with a 104-degree fever. The hospital couldn't reach my next of kin, so they called the police. When the officers finally got Benjamin on the line, he didn't even let them finish. "Cut the crap," he snapped. "Eighty million. Not a cent more. Whether she’s sick or just throwing another tantrum, don't call me again!" The nurses looked at each other, their faces filled with pity. I closed my eyes, the exhaustion pulling me under like an anchor. Fine. Eighty million. Let that be the price of my exit. 2 Two days later, I messaged him. I accepted the eighty million. He was suddenly jubilant, his tone through the phone almost lighthearted. "See? That’s my girl. We’re husband and wife, June. There’s no need to be so petty. You’re finally learning how the world works." "No other wife gets the treatment you do," he boasted. "Most women would kill for your bank account. If you keep being this obedient, maybe I’ll actually make it home for dinner once in a while." It was breathtakingly shameful. If the seventeen-year-old Benjamin could hear himself now, he would have punched his future self in the face. Back then, he followed me around for five years, proposing a dozen times before I finally said yes. Under the Fourth of July fireworks years ago, he had whispered into my hair: "June, I love you. It’s only ever been you. I’ll never change." I suppose the fireworks were too bright; they burnt out his heart, leaving nothing but smoke and ash where his promises used to be. I was done chasing the ghost of the boy I used to know. It wasn't worth the cost of my soul anymore. But the universe wasn't finished with me. The day after my mother’s funeral, my son, Jamie—who had been fighting leukemia for a year—passed away after a sudden, violent relapse. I ignored the doctors and burst into the morgue, clutching his small, cold body. "Jamie... baby, I’m so sorry!" "If your father wasn't such a monster... if he had just given you what you needed..." I moved like a ghost through the next few days, handling the cremation and the paperwork alone. I came home carrying the small, hand-carved mahogany urn that held my son’s ashes, ready to pack my things and vanish. But Jade was already there. She had used her thumbprint to unlock my front door, and she stood in the foyer, eyeing me with a smirk. A year ago, I would have slapped her. Now, I just felt a profound, hollow numbness. Seeing no reaction, she pulled her silk strap down, revealing a fresh bite mark on her shoulder. "Benjamin wanted me here while you were out," she purred. "He says a woman like me belongs in a house like this. He says you’ve become... well, a bit of a 'downgrade.' A bit of a drag." A downgrade. I supposed I was. I didn't know how to be a mistress in my own marriage. "Move," I said, my voice flat. Jade blinked, then laughed. "Who do you think you’re talking to? Everyone you love is dead, June. You’re a charity case living on Benjamin’s mercy. You should be kissing my feet. If I get bored of you, you’ll be on the street by morning." "Honestly," she continued, stepping closer, "I think your mother died just to get away from you. She probably jumped in front of that car to get a payday. Like mother, like daughter—just a couple of gold-diggers—" Slap. I hit her with every ounce of grief and rage left in my body. "Say one more word about my mother," I hissed, "and I will end you." Jade touched her cheek, her eyes wide with shock. Then, with a screech, she lunged at me, clawing at my hair. We tumbled to the floor, a mess of silk and mourning black. That’s when Benjamin walked in. Jade immediately scrambled up and threw herself into his arms, sobbing hysterically. "Benjamin! She’s crazy! She tried to kill me! She said she was going to send me to join her mother!" Benjamin’s face went dark. He looked at me, bruised and disheveled on the floor, but his eyes held no concern. Only fury. "June, apologize to Jade. Right now." I crawled to my feet, tilting my chin up. "Never." The vein in Benjamin’s temple throbbed. He kicked out, his shoe connecting sharply with my shoulder, sending me stumbling back against the side table where I’d placed the urn. He snatched the mahogany box off the table. "No—!" My scream tore through the house. Benjamin didn't hesitate. He raised his knee and slammed the box down against it. The wood splintered with a sickening crack, snapping in two. It felt like he had reached into my chest and snapped my heart in the exact same way. 3 I stared at the shards on the floor, my vision blurring into a haze of red. In my mind, I could hear my mother’s voice from the last few years, a constant, gentle warning: "June, stop holding on. Leave him. You don't fit in his world anymore..." She was right. Why had I been so stubborn? Why had I traded decades of my life for this? The tears had dried up long ago. I knelt on the floor, numbly picking up the pieces of the urn, cradling them to my chest. But Benjamin wasn't done. He ripped a shard from my hand and threw it across the room, grinding his heel into the remaining wood. "Get out!" I shrieked, lunging at him. He pushed me back, his foot catching me in the ribs. I coughed, the taste of copper filling my mouth, but my eyes were fixed on him with a pure, unadulterated hatred. "Don't touch him! Get away from him!" Benjamin didn't look guilty. He actually let out a low, mocking chuckle. "For God's sake, June, stop the theatrics. It’s a box. A piece of wood. Do you really have to go this insane over a prop?" Jade leaned into him, pouting. "It’s so unfair. This psycho gets millions of dollars and gets to hit me? My face still hurts, Benjamin!" Benjamin wrapped an arm around her, kissing her temple. "You’re right. It’t not fair at all." "She should be punished," Jade whispered. "She should have to feel what I feel." Benjamin looked down at me, his expression cold and predatory. "You heard her. Do you want to do it yourself, or do I have to help you?" I looked up at him, a single tear finally escaping. He leaned down, his smile a jagged line of mockery. "Don't cry. I’ll pay you for the box, too. How much do you want this time?" My heart convulsed. A payment. Always a payment. That word had defined the last thousand days of my life. To him, there was no grief so deep, no insult so foul, and no trauma so scarring that it couldn't be settled with a wire transfer. The humiliation of the day before our wedding flooded back. Back then, I didn't understand. I fought him, I screamed, I begged. He didn't care. He left me to face a hundred guests alone while he took Jade on a "vacation" to the Maldives. He stepped on my dignity and expected me to thank him for the designer shoes he bought me afterward. He sounded exactly the same now as he did then: "Stop making a scene, June. Tell me the number. I’m not the broke kid I used to be. You can’t enjoy the penthouse and the black card and then complain that I’m not 'loyal' enough for your fairy tale." Why was I the one being "unreasonable" for expecting him to keep his word? I wiped my face and looked him dead in the eye. "One hundred million." Benjamin burst out laughing. "Greed has to have a limit, June. A broken box? A hundred million? Is it made of human souls?" I gripped the splintered wood so hard the edges sliced into my palms. Blood dripped onto the floor. Jade chimed in with a giggle. "You’re not getting a hundred million, June. Benjamin just promised that money to me. We’re buying that estate in the Hamptons. The one that costs exactly a hundred million." The last string of my sanity snapped. I threw myself at Jade. Benjamin grabbed my wrist and flung me away. My head slammed into the glass display case in the hallway. Shards rained down on me, and blood began to mask my vision. He didn't even check to see if I was breathing. He just pulled Jade into a protective embrace. "Are you okay, baby? Did she touch you? The doctor said you’re most likely to conceive this month—I’m counting on you to give me a healthy heir." I froze. I looked at them, the world spinning. Jade hid behind him, her voice trembling with fake fear. "Oh, Benjamin, she knows we’re trying for a baby because we don't want a sick one like hers. She’s going to try to hurt me!" Benjamin turned to me, his eyes full of lethal warning. "I’ll give you your hundred million, June. On one condition: you stay the hell away from Jade." So that was it. For Jade, he wouldn't even haggle. I started to laugh. It was a hollow, jagged sound. Benjamin Thorne and his money—I didn't want a single cent of it ever again. 4 My silence seemed to agitate him. "Don't test my patience," Benjamin snapped. "I’ll give you forty-eight hours to think about it. Think about the medical bills your son still has!" Your son. The irony was a physical weight. I laughed until I choked. I dragged myself up, gathered the broken pieces of the urn into a silk scarf, and pulled my suitcase toward the door. As the door clicked shut, I remembered the first time he’d walked me into this house. "June, this is our home. This is where we’ll grow old together. This house will be the witness to my eternal love for you." Eternal was such a short time. I went back to the small apartment my mother had lived in. The moment I stepped inside, someone shoved me from behind. Three masked men carrying bats stormed in. They pinned me down before I could scream. "Mr. Thorne said you have two days to think," one of them growled. "He doesn't want you harassing Miss Jade in the meantime. We’re here to make sure you stay put." "And," another added, "if you don't apologize in forty-eight hours, we’re authorized to 'resolve' the situation." I screamed, but the blows fell like rain. For two days and two nights, I was treated like an animal. Beaten, mocked, degraded. Every time I tried to speak, they found a new way to punish me. I felt myself slipping away, and for the first time, I felt a strange, blissful sense of relief. If I died, maybe I could see the people who actually loved me again. Finally, the front door opened. A bucket of ice water was thrown onto my face, forcing me back to consciousness. Benjamin stood over me, looking down like I was something he’d scraped off his shoe. "Well?" he asked, his voice cold. "Do we have a deal?" I nodded slowly, my neck stiff. He smirked, satisfied. "One hundred million is the final price. After this, I won't give you another dime for anything involving Jade. If you act out again, I’ll—" "I don't need a hundred million," I rasped, cutting him off. He froze. "What?" "I said a thousand dollars is enough. Give me back the tuition money I spent to send you to college ten years ago. Give me that, and I will never mention Jade’s name again." Benjamin’s face went ashen. His lip twitched. Enraged, he pulled a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills from his pocket and hurled them at my face. "Fine! Take it! Take more than you asked for!" He signaled his men, kicked the door open, and stormed out. I picked up the bills one by one. I rolled them into a tight cylinder, struck a lighter, and watched them burn. I tossed the flaming paper into the air. It was beautiful. Much more beautiful than the fireworks we’d watched so long ago. I didn't contact him for days. Slowly, Benjamin grew restless. Eventually, his ego couldn't take the silence, and he went to the hospital to find me, certain I’d be at Jamie’s bedside. He found Jamie’s primary oncologist. "Is June in there with my son?" The doctor stared at him like he was a madman. "Mr. Thorne... your son passed away days ago. How could you not know?"
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