I was eating fries from a late-night food truck when I ran into him—a trust-fund kid I knew in school. His eyes widened. “Thea? Damn, you really hold a grudge. Took you long enough to come back to Chris.” Chris—my first love, the son of my mother’s employers. We were supposed to study abroad together. But at our graduation party, someone drugged him. I rushed to help, but in his haze, he suddenly became lucid and threw me, half-dressed, out of the room. He called me a desperate social climber. Overnight, I became a “gold digger.” The malice suffocated me, so I left with my mom for two years. Now, he pulled out his phone. “Chris has been looking for you like a madman. Just apologize—couples fight and make up.” I laughed, resting a hand on my pregnant belly. “My baby’s due in three months. What’s there to ‘make up’ for?” 1 This guy—let's call him Carter—had been Chris’s best friend since they were in diapers. He’d had a front-row seat to my entire history with Chris, from our shy beginnings to the fiery end. He fumbled with his phone, hastily ending the call. For a long moment, he just stared at my stomach, his voice a lost whisper when he finally spoke. “Oh, shit. It’s over. It’s really, truly over. You… you got pregnant by someone else?” I’d snuck out tonight for a craving, not a reunion. I had no intention of strolling down memory lane with him, so I turned to leave. But he rushed to block my path, his face a mask of undisguised panic. “Thea, listen to me! Chris is even richer now than he was when you two broke up!” he said, his voice urgent. “He’s Northwood’s most eligible bachelor, for Christ’s sake. He even said that if you came back, he’d marry you. No prenup, nothing.” His passionate pitch began to falter as he took in my complete lack of expression. Still, he pressed on, a last, desperate attempt. “Look… what if you just… get rid of the baby? I’ll pretend I never saw you tonight. We can fix this.” My gaze turned to ice. “You and Chris both need therapy,” I said, my voice dripping with scorn. “Why don’t you go get some instead of spewing your toxic bullshit all over the street?” His face flushed a deep, blotchy red, and he pointed a trembling finger at me, sputtering, unable to form a single word. I was already a good distance away when I heard him shout at my back. “Thea, who the hell are you pretending to be? Weren’t you the one who was desperate to climb into his bed in the first place?” Climbing into his bed. That label had been stuck to me since the day Chris and I started dating. It made sense, in their world. He was the heir to a city-wide fortune, and my mother was just a live-in housekeeper in his family’s mansion. The rich boy and the housekeeper’s daughter. It was a story that just didn't add up. But Chris’s love had been loud, passionate, and undeniable. So, they whispered that I must have used some dirty tricks, that I’d seduced him, this poor, naive boy, into falling for the help’s daughter. Back then, I was young and proud. My pride was my world. All I knew was that I loved Chris, and he loved me. So, I clenched my jaw and vowed to prove them all wrong. I would work my ass off until everyone agreed that Thea, just Thea, was worthy of Chris Johnston. I refused the supplementary credit card he offered me. I never used his connections to pad my own resume. From eighteen to twenty-two, our relationship, the one nobody believed in, lasted four whole years. I thought we would have so many more. Until our graduation year. A daughter of a close family friend of the Johnstons came to stay with them for the summer. Her name was Vivian. Vivian was a true heiress, born and bred in a world of privilege. She played the harp, was a champion equestrian, and could breakdance. She was radiant and dazzling—everything I was and everything I wasn't. People started dropping hints, sometimes casually, sometimes with pointed intent, about an old, unofficial arrangement between the Johnston and Croft families. A childhood betrothal. Vivian’s summer in Northwood, they implied, was really about sealing the deal. My anxiety gnawed at me until I couldn't take it anymore. I decided to find Chris at the stables. Every Saturday afternoon, he’d ride to clear his head. But for the first time, when I got there, he wasn’t riding. He was leaning against the fence, a relaxed, easy smile on his face as he watched the center of the ring. His eyes were shining. I followed his gaze. There was Vivian, dressed in impeccable riding gear, confidently commanding her horse, a riding crop held loosely in her hand. I watched her for a moment, mesmerized, then turned back to Chris. He hadn't noticed me. His entire world was focused on the girl in the ring. My simmering unease boiled over into full-blown panic. I finally managed to call his name. He started, then a wide grin broke across his face as he grabbed my hand, excitedly telling me how incredible Vivian’s riding skills were. Finally, he asked, “Thea, you want to give it a try?” My face burned with shame. I bit my lip and mumbled that I didn't know how to ride. In that instant, the look of disappointment in his eyes felt like a death sentence. 2 That day, I went home and cried, and we had a huge fight. Chris was completely baffled, but he did his best to explain. He didn't like Vivian that way, he insisted. The whole “childhood betrothal” thing was just a joke their parents had made once when they were drunk. No one took it seriously. His explanation should have been enough. But somehow, the knot of anxiety in my throat didn’t loosen. It only tightened. I wanted to tell him to spend less time with her. I wanted to beg him, Just wait for me. I’ll be amazing one day, too. I’ll be someone you can be proud of. But those secret, girlish pleas were lodged in my throat, too humiliating to speak aloud. To say any of it would be to admit my own inferiority. So, I grew quiet instead. Chris didn’t notice. He and Vivian had too many shared interests to explore. But his mother did. Mrs. Johnston noticed. She summoned me to the sunroom, her grace and elegance making it feel like a casual chat. “Do you know why I never tried to stop Chris from dating you, dear?” she asked, her voice smooth as silk. I said nothing. “Because I knew it would never last. He’s a boy who needs to get things out of his system. Once he’s had his fun, the obsession fades.” She smiled faintly. “See? Look how well he and Vivian are getting along now.” I stood there, feeling as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped down my back, making me shiver. “Chris told me he doesn’t like her.” Mrs. Johnston let out a soft, silent laugh and adjusted the cashmere shawl around her shoulders. “Oh, you sweet, silly girl. If you step aside gracefully, you’ll give him an easy way out.” “And if I don’t?” “Thea,” she said, her tone shifting from condescending to cold. “This is a notification, not a negotiation.” Mrs. Johnston was a woman of her word. A week later, she fired my mother. My mom came to our small apartment in tears, her hands trembling as she signed, her chest heaving with silent sobs. “They said I was stealing. They kept my last month’s pay.” I fought back my own tears and apologized over and over, promising her I would find a way to get her money back. But when I went to find Chris, he was in the middle of a video game with Vivian. He spared me a fleeting glance before tossing his controller aside, his tone inexplicably sharp. “Thea, why did you start dating me in the first place?” I froze, then a cold dread washed over me. “Did your mother say something to you?” I asked, my voice rising. “Chris, don't listen to her, she’s—” “Thea,” he cut me off, his voice laced with irritation. “Don’t talk about my mother like that.” I stood there, stunned into silence, staring at the anger on his face. He was looking at me like I was a stranger, and the coldness in his eyes made me tremble. After what felt like an eternity, he turned his back on me, waving a dismissive hand. “Just go home for now.” I stood outside the door, watching as he sat back down, picked up his controller, and said something that made Vivian laugh so hard she leaned against his shoulder. For the first time, I felt a horrifying certainty that everything Mrs. Johnston had said might be true. A few days later, two things arrived at once: my mother’s missing wages and my acceptance letter for a study abroad program. Seeing the joy on my mother’s face as she held the check, and the official email on my phone, I wavered. After a long hesitation, I sent Chris a text. I thanked him for the money and told him my acceptance had come through. Studying abroad together had always been our plan. He replied instantly with an address and two short words: “Come here.” Chris was out with his friends, a boisterous crew of Northwood’s richest sons who excelled at one thing: giving people a hard time. The moment I pushed the door open, the one closest to me, Carter, raised his glass. “Well, well, look what the cat dragged in!” he drawled. “Congratulations on your acceptance to Penn, your highness! Don’t forget about us little people when you make it big!” I’d faced scenes like this more times than I could count since I’d started dating Chris. So, I ignored him and walked straight to Chris, who was sitting with his head bowed. Before I could even sit down, Carter spoke again, a smirk in his voice. “You know, Thea, you’re a classic example of marrying up. Let’s be real, without Chris, someone from your background would never even dream of studying abroad.” The words had barely left his mouth before Chris launched himself across the table and punched Carter square in the face. “What the hell did you just say?” In the end, they were both sent to the hospital. On the way there, Chris wiped a smear of blood from his lip, his head still down. “Did you get the money?” he asked. I was dabbing at the blood on his knuckles and nodded. He snatched his hand back, letting out a sharp, bitter laugh. Then he grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him, his eyes boring into mine. He spoke each word with chilling precision. “Thea, if I had no money, would you still want to be with me?” A wave of exhaustion and despair washed over me. But I swallowed the lump in my throat and met his gaze, my voice earnest. “Chris, believe it or not, I have always loved you for you.” Years ago, my mother, who is deaf-mute, had been cheated out of her wages and thrown out of a domestic agency because they saw her as a liability. It was Chris, just a boy passing by, who had given me his number and told me to have my mom call his family, that they were looking for a housekeeper. The image of that boy’s bright, open smile still visited me in my dreams. He was the first splash of color in my otherwise gray life. How could I not love him? But I knew, in that moment, that Chris no longer believed me. He was looking at me with suspicion. It was the look of a superior judging a subordinate, someone trying to curry favor. 3 I began to seriously consider ending things with Chris. But I couldn’t let myself think about it for too long. The second I did, my heart would clench with a pain so sharp it took my breath away. So, I shamefully played the coward. Until the night of our graduation gala. I was in a storage room, grabbing more chairs, when I saw Chris stumbling down the hotel corridor. His body suddenly went slack, and he was about to collapse. My heart lurched. Without a second thought, I rushed forward and caught him. His shirt was unbuttoned, and he was muttering, “So hot, so hot…” He looked flushed and dazed, and I just assumed he was drunk. I struggled to support his dead weight, managing to get him into a nearby lounge to rest. It wasn't until he pushed me down onto the bed, his weight pinning me, that I realized something was terribly wrong. I tried to fight him off, to wriggle free. But a part of me, a weak and desperate part, wondered if this was fate, making the choice for me. Then Chris made his own choice. He lifted his head, his eyes narrowing as he stared down at me. “Thea…?” My hand trembled as I reached up to wrap my arms around his neck. But in the next second, he grabbed my wrist and dragged me onto the floor. He clutched his head, his eyes clearing as he looked at me, crumpled on the carpet. “Are you crazy? Do you have any idea what you’re doing? You drugged me!” I stared up at him, my hand instinctively flying to my chest. “Drugged you?” I whispered in disbelief. “No, I just saw you… you looked like you were about to pass out, so I…” My words died in my throat. The look on his face—pure, unadulterated scorn—silenced me. “Right,” he sneered. “Keep spinning your little stories, Thea. When did you become like this?” Tears welled in my eyes, but I held them back, making one last, desperate attempt to defend myself. “It wasn’t me. I didn’t do it. You can check the security cameras.” His only response was silence and that cold, mocking expression. The silence froze my heart solid. I wiped my eyes and, with a trembling voice, finally said the words that had been haunting me for weeks. “Chris, let’s break up.” The silent, brooding Chris suddenly let out a cold laugh. He hauled me to my feet. “Wow, Thea. You’re good. Playing hard to get now, are we?” His voice was laced with venom. “Is money really that important to you?” “Fine!” Before I could react, he was dragging me toward the door. He yanked it open and shoved me, hard, into the hallway. I stumbled and fell. The students milling about in the corridor froze, staring. A second later, the silence was broken by a chorus of wolf-whistles. Shaking with humiliation, I curled into a ball on the floor, desperately trying to pull the remnants of my dress over my chest. Someone in the crowd even took out their phone and started recording. My teeth chattered as I pleaded with the man standing over me. “Chris, please, don’t do this. Please, just give me a jacket. Anything.” He scoffed, his voice like ice. “Give you a jacket? Thea, did you think about covering up when you were plotting to drug me and climb into my bed?” His voice rose, echoing down the hall. “Isn’t this just the price people like you have to pay to get ahead?” A wave of shocked murmurs rippled through the crowd. Someone called me a gold-digging whore. Someone else said I got what I deserved. In that moment, I was nailed to a cross of public shame. After that night, I became infamous in our small circle in Northwood. My reputation as a gold digger was sealed. Anyone and everyone felt they had the right to look at me with disgust, their eyes lingering on my body with predatory intent. I was on the verge of a breakdown. I cut off all contact with everyone I had ever known, and one night, under the cover of darkness, I moved my mother out of the city. Seven years ago, when I fled Northwood in disgrace, I never thought I would return. For a long time, just the thought of the city was enough to make me curl up in a ball and tremble through the night. But now, seeing an old face, remembering those events that felt like they happened in another lifetime… the calm in my heart told me that time really is the best healer. And the Thea I am today is not the girl I was back then. So I spun around, walked right back to Carter, and slapped him across the face. Hard. “Go to hell.” His eyes bugged out. “Thea, you’ve grown some balls, haven’t you?” he snarled. “You want me to call Chris over here to deal with you?” I laughed. “It’s been years, and you people are still exactly the same.” Still so arrogant. He must have mistaken my laugh for fear. He pointed a finger at my stomach. “Good, you know you should be sorry. Now hurry up and take care of that… thing.” “Chris has been hung up on you for years. You’re one step away from climbing the social ladder. Isn’t that the lifelong goal for people like you?” Climbing the social ladder? The last time I tried that, Chris Johnston kicked me off, sending me from a "good girl" to a notorious tramp. A bitter smile touched my lips. “And what makes you so sure my husband isn’t a better man than Chris?” He looked at me, his expression shifting from anger to suspicion. He scanned me from head to toe. “Impossible. No respectable family would ever let the housekeeper’s daughter marry in.” He paused, then a look of dawning comprehension crossed his face. “Oh, I get it. You married some bastard, didn’t you? An illegitimate son?” I just scoffed, too tired to argue. As I walked away, he yelled after me, “Thea, don’t you dare regret this!” I don’t know about me having regrets, but I was pretty sure he would. He told Chris I was back in Northwood. I found out when I was in a baby boutique, happily browsing through rows of tiny clothes. The sales associate next to me tapped my shoulder. “Is that the baby’s father?” she whispered, nodding toward the entrance. “He’s been standing there watching you for a while.” My heart skipped a beat. I turned, a smile already forming on my lips, but it froze solid on my face.