Chapter 3 Slander

"We'll never see each other again. And congratulations on the wedding." I knew that wasn't enough to kill his doubts, so I turned my hand around and showed him the wedding ring. "And I'm married. I love my husband very much."

The look on Christopher's face changed faster than I could say another word. He grabbed my hand. "What? When did this happen?"

Rachel chuckled and spoke with a voice loud enough for everyone to hear. "Next time you try to lie, make sure you clean up anything that might ruin it. You've gone through a lot of husbands these past few years."

Christopher took the phone from her and flipped through the photos. Then his frown disappeared, replaced by realization. "You almost got me this time. I can't believe you'd lie about marriage just to get my attention. This chance encounter is no coincidence, either. You set it up, didn't you?"

Now I was the one frowning. I wondered what he was talking about until I saw the photos. A woman with a build similar to mine posted tons of photos of her going into expensive clubs and spots with different men.

That answered my question, but then I noticed my old account in his friend list. It'd been years since I used that thing.

"Don't give me any money. I don't need yours," I answered coolly. I really did not want to waste more time on these people.

"You scoffed at my pull ring and demanded a breakup. You trampled all over my love, so you don't get to act all high and mighty here."

Well, this guy was just full of it. The breakup happened five years ago, and even now, he thought I dumped him because I was a gold digger?

We first met each other during a business conference. Then we exchanged numbers, and he started courtship. He was relentless about it. One thing led to another, and then we started dating.

Months into our relationship, I noticed crates of photos stashed under his bed. Photos of the same girl. Her name was Rachel Benson, and she was the love he could never get. Then I realized why he dated me. I looked like Rachel.

Disappointed, I told him I wanted to break up with him. On my way back home, I ran into a car crash.

When I woke up, he was right beside me, his eyes puffy from all the crying he did.

The nurse who checked on me told me he stayed by my bed three whole days and refused to eat or drink. Eventually, hunger and fatigue knocked him out.

The next day, he tossed out everything that had ties to Rachel. He sat with me and swore, "I won't lie. I used to love Rachel, but I've never seen you as her stand-in. I just want you in my life."

I bought that story. The relationship went on for seven long years. I helped him build his career and got his company listed five years after its establishment. I gave him the golden time of my life.

But when Rachel came crashing into his life again, that messed up his mind. He would wait in line for the latest purse just because she said she wanted it. He would leave me and go to a concert with her just because she called. Even if my stomach was killing me, he wouldn't care.

Even then, I couldn't bring myself to break up with him—until that nightmarish day came. That was the moment of epiphany.

And now he was playing the victim? Please, if anyone had their love trampled all over, it was me.

"Fine, if you love your dignity so much, here's a chance to make serious cash. Six thousand for three days of your life. You'll run every errand my friends and I need to see done. Deal?"

Christopher gave me a card. The look in his eyes was unmistakably that of scorn and mockery.

His sycophants played along like the dogs they were.