Chapter five

The door creaked open.

Hunter stepped in with a bowl of soup in his hands. But the moment he saw his phone in mine, he froze. His eyes darkened.

“Chris…” he muttered, striding over. He snatched the phone from me, a little too fast. “What did you read?”

“Nothing,” I said coolly, setting the phone down on the nightstand. “Just your friends. They talk a lot.”

“They’re just idiots messing around,” he replied quickly, sliding the phone into his pocket like it was a loaded weapon. “They don’t mean half the shit they say.”

That night, Hunter wrapped himself around me and fell asleep within minutes — as if nothing had happened.

But I couldn't close my eyes.

His words from the group chat clanged in my mind like broken bells:

“Her golddigger mom leaching off my dad’s money.”

“If Christina dies, my dad will go broke from medical bills…”

Was that what I was to him? A financial liability with a heartbeat?

Even if I left, I knew one thing for sure — Hunter wouldn’t stop tormenting Mom. He’d still think she was some gold-digging parasite who was clinging to his dad’s money.

No.

I had to pay back every last penny. I had to prove we weren’t after their wealth.

By morning, I was showered, dressed, and determined.

Photography had always been my escape — and now, it would be my way out. I created an online portfolio, signed up for every freelance gig I could find, and took up shifts at a local café. I even started offering quick photoshoots for couples and graduation portraits at half price.

But $10,000 doesn’t appear overnight.

Every hour mattered. I had one week.

My phone buzzed as I finished wiping down a café table:

Hunter: Where the hell are you?

Everyone’s waiting for you at dinner.

The panic in his message was unmistakable.

I didn’t reply.

By the time I got home, dinner was already set. Everyone sat at the table, including Alina — practically glued to Hunter’s side. His eyes tracked me the second I walked in.

“I’m sorry, everyone,” I said casually. “Got held up at work.”

I tossed my camera bag onto the side table and slipped into my seat.

“Christina,” Alina said in her usual plastic-sweet tone. “Perfect timing. We were just talking about you!”

I raised a brow. “Oh?”

“Actually…” she smiled wider. “Hunter and I are getting engaged soon.”

I froze.

The room went silent for a heartbeat.

My eyes met Hunter’s. He didn’t say a word — just stared at me, his expression unreadable.

“Oh really?” I said with a perfectly fake smile. “That’s… wonderful.”

I picked up a piece of bread, pretending not to care while my chest burned like fire.

After dinner, I turned to Mom. “Can I sleep in your room tonight?”

Hunter’s face twitched. 

“Why?” Mom asked.

“I just don’t feel like being alone,” I said lightly. “I want to be with Mom.”

Mom beamed. “Of course, baby. My bed’s your bed.”

Hunter's grip on his fork tightened.

That night, I went straight to Mom’s room. I didn’t give him the chance to stop me. I didn’t want the lies. Or the apologies. Or the kisses that meant nothing.

The next few days were a blur of exhaustion and quiet determination. Between photo gigs, café shifts, and online clients, I was barely sleeping. But I was almost there.

$8,200 and counting.

Almost enough.

One afternoon, with Mom and Uncle Carter out, my phone rang.

“Miss Christina,” the voice on the line said. “This is the City Cemetery Authority. We regret to inform you that your grandmother’s resting site is being relocated. The land has been sold.”

I blinked. “What? Relocated? Why?”

“The cemetery is closing down. We need someone from the family to collect the ashes.”

My heart stopped. My grandmother — my mom’s mom — had been the only real sense of home I’d ever known when we moved here. She made this cold city feel warm.

“I’ll come now,” I said quickly. “Please don’t touch anything. I’m on my way.”

I was about to walk out the door when a familiar voice echoed from the hallway.

“Chris, wait.”

Hunter.

I turned slowly, already bracing myself.

“You weren’t going to tell me about Grandma?” he asked, hurt flashing across his face. “She mattered to me too.”

“No thanks,” I cut him off. “I’ll handle this myself.”

I turned to go, but he grabbed my elbow.

“Why are you shutting me out? What’s going on with you?” His grip tightened. “Is this about Alina?”

“You’re getting engaged,” I said, staring right through him. “What else is there to say?”

“Chris…” his voice lowered. “You know why I’m doing this.”

I didn’t reply.

“I’m coming with you,” he said firmly.

I should’ve refused. But something in his eyes made me stay silent.

We got into the car. I barely glanced at him.

Then — just as Hunter turned the key in the ignition — the back door swung open.

Alina slid in, looking like a fashion influencer on a road trip.

“What is she doing here?” I asked immediately.

“Alina was bored,” Hunter said, avoiding my gaze. “She wanted to come.”

“We’re not going on a picnic,” I snapped. “We’re going to retrieve my grandmother’s ashes.”

Alina glared at me, but said nothing.

The ride was silent and tense.

When we arrived at the crematorium, the air was cold and damp. I stepped forward and accepted the urn.

My fingers trembled around the warm brass. Tears blurred my vision.

Grandma had been my protector, my only real family when I first arrived here, terrified and alone. She tucked me in. Fed me. Told me stories about angels watching over girls with broken hearts.

Now I was holding what was left of her in my hands — while standing beside a man I couldn’t even trust.

I felt something crack deep inside me.

And I knew…

This was the beginning of the end.