Fifty Grand Bought My Goodbye

Ronin Dudley was obsessed with cleanliness, so even at three months pregnant, I scrubbed the floors on my hands and knees every day.

That morning, my nausea hit so hard I didn't make it to the bathroom. Two drops of liquid splashed onto the floor.

He frowned and shoved me outside.

"It reeks. Stay out there and think about what you did. You can come back in when you learn to keep things clean."

The icy December wind made my lower stomach ache, but for the first time in five years, I didn't pound on the door and beg.

The night before, Kelly Choney—the girl Ronin treated like a sister—got drunk and puked all over him, ruining his favorite silk rug.

He wiped her mouth with his expensive shirt, eyes full of concern.

"Kelly, you'll feel better once it's out."

She reeked, but he held her all night.

I stared at the closed door, one hand on my cold stomach.

A while later, Ronin opened it. Wearing disposable gloves, he held out a rag.

"Done with your tantrum? Scrub the living room rug. Kelly will be up soon, and she likes going barefoot."

I didn't take it.

I pulled out my phone and texted my OB-GYN friend.

[Liam, I changed my mind. Schedule the abortion.]

"Are you deaf?" Ronin snapped, tossing the rag at my feet.

Liam replied.

[Okay. Come in for bloodwork first. I'll schedule the procedure after.]

I put my phone away.

"Helen Hart." Ronin frowned. "Clean the floor. I'm not saying it again. Kelly got sick at a business dinner. You sit home all day making trouble. Don't use the pregnancy as an excuse to be lazy."

Like he was doing me a favor, he added, "Behave today, and I'll let this slide."

I stared at the rag and didn't move.

Just then, Kelly walked over with Ronin's cashmere shawl around her shoulders, her hair messy from sleep. She looked more at home in his apartment than I ever had.

"Ronin, it's freezing. Why won't you let Helen inside?" she asked sweetly, rubbing her eyes.

His face softened at once.

"Why are you barefoot? The floor isn't clean yet. Go put on some shoes."

Kelly's eyes turned red.

"Is Helen mad because I stayed in the guest room last night? Maybe I should leave. I don't want to come between you two. She's pregnant, after all."

"This has nothing to do with you."

The warmth vanished the second he looked at me.

"Helen, how long are you going to keep this up?"

I looked up at them, calm.

"I'm not making a scene. And I'm not cleaning it."

His face darkened. "What did you say? Helen Hart, don't push me."

Kelly grabbed his arm.

"She's pregnant. She's been through enough. I'll do it."

She reached for the rag, but Ronin yanked her back, worried.

"What are you doing? Your stomach still hurts. I've spoiled her so much she doesn't know what's good for her."

Then he shot me a cold look.

"Have some gratitude, Helen. Five years ago, when your grandmother was dying, who gave you fifty grand without thinking twice? Now I ask you to do a little housework, and all you do is make excuses."

Fifty grand.

The words dragged me straight back.

Five years ago, my grandmother was dying in the ICU. The hospital handed me a bill I couldn't pay.

I collapsed outside in the pouring rain, soaked, shaking, and out of options.

Then Ronin showed up with an umbrella.

Despite his germophobia, he ignored the mud, carried me to his car, and paid every bill.

He held my trembling hand.

"Don't be scared. I'm here."

I lived on that memory for five years.

He'd saved me when no one else would, so I buried my pride, took his criticism, and swallowed every insult Kelly threw at me.

I thought if I behaved, that version of him would come back.

Now I knew better.

The Ronin from that night was gone.

The man in front of me only saw a free maid.

"Ronin, don't bring up the past," Kelly said softly. "Maybe Helen's just upset because you let it slide when I ruined the rug, but yelled at her for dirtying the floor. She probably thinks it's unfair."

Just like that, she made me sound like a brat throwing a fit.

Ronin took a breath.

"Helen, this is your last chance."

He pointed at the rag.

"Pick it up and clean. Or don't come back inside today."

I looked at him one last time.

He felt like a stranger.

Then I turned and walked to the elevator.