003: Golddigger, dumped!

Nadia

“Nadia, what is going on with you? Not only have I been trying to reach you all morning, you aren't at your apartment, and now I find you standing in the middle of a decommissioned plant the city has been trying to dump for a decade. Don't tell me you're really going to buy this.” Daniel looked around the overgrown parking lot.

In my past life, that tone of voice would have made me anxious. I would have scrambled to explain myself, eager to prove I was making smart choices, desperate for his approval.

Now, looking at his tailored suit and the expensive watch I had bought him for his birthday last November, I only felt a deep, hollow exhaustion. Like someone had finally turned the volume down on six years of noise.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Your lawyer called me,” Daniel revealed, his frustration bleeding into actual panic.

He ran a hand through his hair. “She said you're freezing accounts and liquidating your mutual funds. What are you doing? You know my startup relies on the credit line attached to your primary portfolio. If you shift those assets, the bank is going to freeze my development accounts. My payroll won't clear.”

There it was.

It took less than two minutes for him to get to the real issue.

He wasn't worried that I was making a bad financial decision for my own sake. He was terrified that my money was no longer sitting exactly where he needed it to be. His entire lifestyle, his company, his future — all of it was built on the foundation of my bank account. And the thought of that foundation shifting terrified him more than anything I could say.

“My money is being moved because I have other priorities right now,” I said, keeping my voice perfectly level.

Daniel stared at me as if I were speaking a different language.

“Other priorities? Like buying abandoned buildings? Nadia, look at me. You aren't acting like yourself. You suddenly block my mother's number, block mine, and now you're throwing millions of dollars into this garbage.”

He stepped closer, his voice dropping into that soothing, patronizing tone he used whenever he thought I was being overly emotional. The one that always made me feel small.

“I think you need to speak to Dr. Evans. You've been stressed lately. Maybe you're having some kind of episode and you're not thinking clearly.”

I almost smiled.

He genuinely believed that because I was no longer doing exactly what benefited him, I had to be mentally unstable.

“I'm thinking clearer than I have in six years,” I replied.

“No, you aren't.” He reached out, trying to grab my hand like he always did to end a conversation. “Just pause the asset transfers. Let me look at the paperwork for this place. We can probably pay a penalty and back out of the sale. We'll fix this before you do any permanent damage to our future.”

I stepped back, letting his hand drop into empty air.

“There is no 'our' future, Daniel,” I said.

He blinked, his hand still hovering between us. “What?”

“You're right about one thing. I've been very busy this morning, and I've made a lot of changes.” I looked him directly in the eyes. “But there's one more important thing I forgot to do. I'm breaking up with you, Daniel. I don't want to see you anymore.”

Daniel stood completely frozen.

He looked like a man who had just been told his parachute was defective right after jumping out of an airplane. The pure, unadulterated shock on his face was almost fascinating to watch.

“You're joking,” he breathed.

“I have never been more serious.”

“Nadia, we've been together for six years.” The panic in his voice was rising now, cracking his calm exterior. “You can't just stand here and tell me it's over. Over what? Because I questioned your real estate purchase?”

“It's already done. Get out of my property before I call the police. And call your sister to bring my Porsche back and move her stuff out of my house by tonight, or I'll have the cops do it for her.”

“You're not thinking straight,” he shook his head like he was looking at a different person. “So I'm going to give you a chance to reconsider this, because I'm sure you're going to calm down, realize what a big mistake you're making, and come asking for my forgiveness.”

He waited for me to argue. He waited for me to yell, or cry, or give him a list of grievances he could manipulate and talk his way out of. That was how our relationship had always worked. I made a point, he twisted it until I was apologizing.

I gave him nothing. I just stood there, completely unmoved.

The absolute certainty in my eyes must have finally pierced through his arrogance, because his shoulders slowly dropped.

“You're really doing this,” he muttered, shaking his head. “You're throwing everything we have away.”

“Goodbye, Daniel.”

He stared at me for a long, heavy moment. He wanted to say something else, but his pride wouldn't let him beg, not when he was still so convinced that I would eventually come crawling back.

Without another word, he turned around and walked back to the black sedan I had bought for him.

He started the engine. Through the windshield, I saw him linger for a few seconds, both hands locked on the wheel, waiting for me to run over and stop him.

When I didn't move, he finally shifted into drive and sped out of the parking lot.

I stood alone in the quiet, listening to the sound of his engine fade away until there was nothing but wind and the creak of the old gates.

For the first time in six years, I felt incredibly, wonderfully light.

I turned around and looked up at the ugly, towering concrete walls of Westridge.

Daniel thought I had just lost my mind. He thought I was destroying my life, throwing away my money, and I'm going to come crawling back in the near future.

If only he knew that the future he was so desperately clinging to was going to cease to exist in exactly five days.

I pushed open the heavy steel doors and walked inside.