The Freebie

[Free pass for letting Bianca hurt Jenna: 1 remaining.] That was the pinned memo in the phone of Dylan Nelson, my fiance. We had been together for five years. Bianca Shelly was his mentor’s daughter. He had quantified every slight Jenna suffered into a spendable allowance. Three days into our silent standoff, he took my engagement ring from the nightstand. I tried to stop him. “That ring was registered in my name for life.” He checked the note on his phone. His voice turned cold. “Bianca got rejected by the guy she was set up with. She’s been crying all day. She’s just borrowing it for a photo. Stop making this difficult.” An hour later, I received an alteration alert from the jeweler’s app. [Original recipient: Jenna Vogel. Recipient changed to: Bianca Shelly. Ownership status: Finalized and irreversible.] I finally recalled the small print at the bottom of his note. [If Jenna ends the relationship first, all free passes will automatically reset.] From the beginning, he had planned to sacrifice me over and over again. It was not that he did not understand what the ring meant. He was simply certain that I would never muster up the courage to leave him. That evening, Dylan texted to ask whether I was done being angry. I did not reply. I simply changed his contact name from “Babe” back to “Dylan Nelson”. I thought. “Dylan, that was your last free pass. This time, there will be no reset.”

For three years, I worked for my coworkers for free—designing, covering for their mistakes, cleaning up their messes. They used my work to get promoted, to win awards, even to run side jobs on the sly, and I never took a cent for any of it. Then I single-handedly landed the hardest client project the company had ever taken on and walked away with a hundred-thousand-dollar bonus. That was the day everyone lost their minds. The same people who'd leeched off me the hardest led the charge, cornering me at my desk and tearing into me in front of the whole office. "The whole concept for that project was a team effort. What gives you the right to keep the bonus for yourself?" "Your work has always been garbage. That free labor of yours was never worth anything anyway!" Worse, they spent the whole night digging up old grievances, stitching together every minor slip-up they could find, and spreading rumors through the entire company—that I'd stalled projects, that my work was worthless, that I'd tanked the department's numbers. Finally, they gave me an ultimatum. "Either split the entire bonus with the department, or pay us two hundred thousand dollars for our trouble. Take your pick." Even the department manager tried to smooth things over, telling me, "We're all colleagues here. You've already got a big bonus—taking a small loss won't kill you. Don't be so difficult about it." Wonderful. So three years of quietly covering for everyone had just produced a pack of lazy, credit-stealing backstabbers. Since they wanted to gang up on the one person who'd always played fair, fine. I was going to lay out three years of original files, timestamps, and proof of exactly who'd done the work—all of it, all at once. And what none of them knew was that the special project behind my bonus was an AI system built to replace every single one of them.

My boyfriend, Nathan Linden, refuses to participate in buy one, get one free promotions with me, so every time we go out on a date, my best friend, Candace Lane, always ends up joining us. "Buy one free one at Lucky Star Beverages! Don't miss out!" Nathan immediately calls Candace, then places his order first without missing a beat. Candace doesn't take long to arrive and accepts the iced coffee Nathan passes her. The straw is already stuck into the drink. The pair begin to talk about a mutual game they play, getting into a heated discussion that causes their faces to flush red. I tighten my grip on the receipt I'm holding. The milkshakes are clearly on promotion too, yet every time, I'm the odd one out and have to order for myself. By the time I receive my milkshake, Nathan and Candace have already exited the shop. I hurry over to the cinema across the street to meet up with them, only to see the two of them arguing. As it turns out, Nathan's credit card allows him to enjoy 50% off if he buys two tickets, but he has no intention of giving that second ticket to me. When Candance spots me, she urges me, "Lily, quick! Go buy a ticket for yourself. The movie's going to start in ten minutes." Then, she shoves a bucket of popcorn into my arms and adds with a shy smile, "Here, the popcorn was buy one, get one free too. You can have this bucket all to yourself since you eat so much. Nate and I can just share this one bucket." I pause and glance between the two. Their movie seats are next to each other, and their favorite drinks, phone casings, and even the keychains hanging from their backpacks are all the same. Suddenly, an epiphany crashes over me. Since they love buy one, get one free promotions that much, I'll just back out of this relationship.

As soon as I get off the surgical table after my miscarriage, my husband, Presley Quinn, sends me a text message. "You were ten cents short when you paid your share of the power bill this month. Transfer the money to me immediately." I can only sit on the cold bench in the hospital on my own. The anesthesia has yet to wear out, but my belly is already hurting so much that I can practically feel it constricting on itself. The next thing I know, a new post appears on my social media homepage. It's a post made by Vivienne Ashford, the intern Presley is in charge of tutoring. In the photo, Vivienne can be seen holding a bouquet of flowers folded from money bills. A bright and radiant smile blooms on her face. The four-leaf clover necklace adorning her neck is the same necklace I've seen in Presley's purchase history two days ago. The caption of the photo writes, "I don't want a lot of money. I want a ton of love instead." Only then do I remember that today is Valentine's Day as well as my fifth-year anniversary with Presley. Over the past five years, Presley and I have been splitting every single bill, down to two decimal places. If I take a shower for more than 20 minutes, Presley demands that I pay extra for the water heater's power bill. When I cook myself some supper in the middle of the night, Presley wants me to split the gas bill generated by the stove. Even when my mom is hospitalized due to kidney failure and is waiting for her surgical bills to be settled, Presley refuses to lend me a single cent. Instead, he sends me a few links leading to web loans. As I stare at the social media feed, I chuckle all of a sudden. It turns out that Presley does know how to spend money. It's just that he doesn't have the heart to spend it on me. I smile once again as I leave a like on the post. Then, I transfer the ten cents to Presley. From now on, I don't owe him any single penny.

“And what does that have to do with me?” I frowned. Ace Hunter didn't even blink. “You're going to save my Boxing career.” I laughed. “Excuse me?” “You're the only genius on this campus who can drag my grades out of the gutter.” He folded his arms. “And in return, I'll help you get over my brother.” My heart skipped. “What?” “I'll fake date you.” I stared at him like he'd completely lost his mind. “The rumors will spread. Brooks will watch the girl he's always taken for granted become someone else's. He'll finally see you as a woman instead of his kid sister.” His lips curved into a dangerous smile. “And while we're at it, I'll keep my GPA high enough to stay captain of the hockey team.” “You're insane.” “Maybe. But I'm also your best shot.” ... For three years, I loved my childhood best friend in silence. The night I finally gathered the courage to confess, he introduced me to his fiancée instead. Humiliated and heartbroken, I accepted the most ridiculous deal on campus. Tutor Ace Hunter—the university's arrogant Boxing Champion, who's one failed class away from losing everything—and pretend to be his girlfriend for six months. The rules were simple. No strings attached. No real kisses. And absolutely no falling in love. But fake relationships have a dangerous way of feeling real. Especially when the boy I thought I'd never stop loving suddenly decides he wants me back. Now I'm trapped between two brothers, and a fake relationship that's beginning to feel like the only real thing in my life.

After spending the past month working overtime and burning the midnight oil every day, I finally closed a business deal that's worth 50 million dollars before the company's annual dinner. My boss, William Lewis, begins giving away the end-of-the-year bonuses with a wide smile on his face. "The finance director helped our company save three million dollars worth of taxes. He will receive a villa by the river as a gift." "The head of IT led the team and solved various difficult problems. He shall receive 200 thousand dollars in cash." "Lily Lane, the receptionist, has always shown a great attitude whenever she greets the clients. She shall receive a Hermes bag." When it's my turn, I wipe the sweat off my palms before accepting my bonus. But upon opening the giftbox, I see three entrance tickets to the local zoo instead. "You must be sick of receiving commissions all the time as the sales director. Why don't you take advantage of this holiday to spend some quality time with your family?" On the way home, I dial a number. "Mr. Skylar, there's a problem with the 50-million-dollar contract. Let's discuss it later."