What Is The Ending Of 'Buy This Not That' Explained?

Sometimes love demands a second chance, but it will never be bought, no matter the amount. Michael Carrington promised himself after losing his wife that he was done with love. No more investing in anything he wasn’t capable of walking away. Sex and high-dollar business deals would become the center of his world. Throw in a touch of danger, and he has all he needs outside of a new assistant. Rainey Foster has finally graduated college, and as a struggling single mom, she just needs someone to give her a chance. She’s willing to go all in with the right employer, as long as the buck stops there. He can have her time, her commitment and her attention, but no one will ever have her heart again. She thinks she has things figured out until she comes face to face with the illustrious Michael Carrington. Powerful. Confident. Sexy as all get out. Lust might ignite the flame between them, but love will have its way.

On our wedding day, my bride insists on wearing an old, beat-up watch with the million-dollar wedding dress I buy her. I call off the wedding on the spot. She looks at me in shock. "You called off the wedding just because of a watch?" I take out the divorce agreement and tell her to sign. "Yes. Because of that watch." Everyone calls me crazy. They cannot believe I would end a ten-year relationship over something so worthless and file for divorce in front of everyone. Dad walks up and slaps me across the face. "Get on your knees, you disgrace." My mother-in-law shrieks that I have ruined her daughter's future by returning her like damaged goods. I look at the watch on her wrist, which is stopped at 3:07, and I smile. Then, I phone my assistant. "It's time. Release everything. I want a divorce."

I go to the boutique my son has invested in to pick up the gown I've ordered for a banquet. Just as I'm about to leave, the manager, Wendy Reed, stops me and says that I still owe them money. She pulls out the bill. I look down at it and see that the boutique is charging me 300 thousand dollars for their creativity, 500 thousand dollars for fabric therapy, and one million dollars for their chief designer's mental wellness. On top of other expenses, the price totals up to two million dollars. I laugh incredulously and send a message to my secretary. "Withdraw our funding from my son's company and this boutique!"

There's this thing that my mom keeps repeating to me. "I love my children equally. I will always treat you and Brielle the same." It's true that I get everything my sister, Brielle Montgomery, has since we were children. If Brielle has a new backpack, I do too. If Brielle goes for piano lessons, I'll be given the opportunity to attend the same lessons. When I go home for the holidays, my mom digs out two beautiful shopping bags sporting luxury brand logos. With a smile on her face, she hands them to us. "I specifically went to the store to buy you nice coats. Both of you get a coat each. I'll have you know that coats with wool linings are worth thousands of dollars. I don't even have the heart to wear one of these coats. I only bought these coats for you two." As I gaze at the expensive-looking coat, I feel warmth surging into my heart. But when I try on the coat, I feel a weird, scratchy sensation coming from my armpits. After flipping the coat inside out, I notice a few strands of long, dry hair tightly entangled among the seams. I even smell a faint trace of mold mixed with a strong hint of rot that can't be covered up by the cheap fragrance on the coat.

On Christmas Day, I put on a reindeer-themed lingerie set, ready to spend an unforgettable night with my CEO boyfriend. Noah Levine eagerly unbuttons my top, kissing my body with feverish intensity. Just then, his phone rings. He answers impatiently. "What is it?" A sweet voice comes through from the other end, speaking in Farylian. "Noah, what time are you coming tonight? I have a Christmas present for you." Hearing those words, my eyes fly wide open. That woman is my younger sister, Heidi Miller. Noah's expression turns serious, like he's handling a work call. He responds in Farylian. "What present?" The voice on the other end laughs softly. "The present is me, wrapped head to toe in red ribbon. Come over and help me unwrap it. I can't wait anymore." That night, Noah doesn't touch me. He helps me dress, kissing my cheek with reluctance. "Work call. Something urgent at the company I need to handle. We'll pick this up another time. "Remember to wear this outfit next time, though. It's very enticing." His lie sounds calm and natural. He clearly assumes I don't understand, but I know Farylian. I hear everything crystal clear. I pretend to nod calmly. After he leaves, I accept the company's overseas assignment. In three days, I'll vanish completely from his world.

Our last dinner before the marriage ends is a plate of cold lasagna Antonio Costa slides across the table. As I set my fork down, a shadow of blame crosses his eyes. "It's from the soup kitchen. Don't be picky with free food. The family funds are frozen, and we can barely cover the kids' medical bills. Drop the high-maintenance act from your spoiled past." Ever since the Costa family fell from grace, I have been standing in line outside the church at 4:00 am for hand-me-downs. One evening, I see him on Via Montevalerio, watching Sofia Bellini try on a dark red satin gown in a high-end boutique. That is a current-season couture piece, priced high enough to keep us afloat for an entire year. The two discounted kids' sweaters in my hands suddenly feel heavy. At the counter, Sofia reaches for her purse, but Antonio catches her wrist. "It's just a dress. I can afford plenty more." A wave of absurdity hits me as he pulls out a black card I've never seen before. It turns out the family accounts have been unlocked for a while. All those nights I've spent digging through trash cans and giving up my asthma inhaler so I can afford my child's fever medicine suddenly become a bitter joke. I wipe away tears I don't realize are falling and drop the neatly folded hand-me-downs back into the donation bin.