Chapter 1My period hit like a truck while I was at the mall. Sent my boyfriend to grab pads. An hour later? Still nothing.
Desperate, I opened my social feed for help. A video tagged "nearby" popped up instantly—
[Boss bought out the whole bakery just because I mentioned Swiss rolls! Best job ever!]
Fancy desserts everywhere.
But what caught my eye? A man's hand in the corner.
Wearing the watch I gave my boyfriend. My 7th anniversary gift to him.
So while I was stuck in a gross bathroom bleeding through my jeans, he was playing sugar daddy to his "assistant" a few blocks away?!
Something inside me went cold.
I backed out and texted my mom.
[Mom, that guy you wanted me to meet? I'm ready.]
...
When I finally stumbled out of the bathroom—pants ruined, body wrecked—I scared the hell out of the security guard.
"Miss, you okay? Did someone hurt you? Should I call the cops?"
I gave him a bitter smile and shook my head.
Cause Lincoln took the car, so I had to catch a ride.
Driver after driver took one look at my bloody jeans and bailed—too scared, too disgusted.
Half an hour later, I finally found a woman driver who didn't judge me. Thank God.
My phone wouldn't stop buzzing the whole ride home.
When I got out of the shower, I saw a wall of missed calls and texts from my mom.
[Finally came to your senses? I TOLD you Lincoln Sterling was a cold-blooded snake!]
[Seven years and he still hasn't married you! If he wanted to, he would've done it ages ago. At least you're waking up before it's too late. The guy I found for you is a thousand times better than that piece of trash!]
Turns out parents really do know best.
When you're young, you think they don't get love.
A few years later, you realize—you're the one who didn't get life.
[Just got out of the shower. I'll do whatever you say, Mom.]
Right after I hit send, Lincoln finally showed up.
With his precious little sidekick, Chelsea Shaw.
"Nina... you're... you're already back? I went to the mall but it was closed..."
He looked awkward for a second, then held up a huge plastic bag like he deserved a medal.
Always, Tampax, Kotex, Playtex... every brand you could think of.
Regular, overnight, with wings, ultra-thin... every type, every size.
"I don't know anything about pads, so I didn't want to get the wrong thing. I asked Chelsea to help me pick some out. That's why I'm late."
Such a pathetic, transparent lie.
But I felt nothing.
They say the heart can die before the body does. Now I know exactly what that means.
"It's fine. I already handled it."
I didn't even look at him.
He knew he screwed up. He mumbled something about using the bathroom, but not before throwing Chelsea a lifeline.
"Chelsea was worried about you, so she came up to check on you."
"Yeah, Nina, are you okay? Want me to make you some ginger tea?"
Chelsea was always so sweet in front of Lincoln.
But the second he disappeared into the bathroom, her face twisted into something vicious.
She leaned in so close I could smell her cheap perfume, her voice dripping with poison.
"You've got enough pads here to last till menopause, right?"
"God, I'd die of embarrassment if I were you."
"A grown woman, bleeding everywhere, dumped at the mall like garbage... If I were you, I'd just end it."
"Lincoln doesn't love you anymore. So why are you still clinging to him? Don't you have any self-respect left? Are you seriously gonna wait till he throws you out himself? You really wanna be that pathetic?"
She shoved her face closer and closer to mine.
I knew exactly what she was doing.
She wanted me to slap her.
Then she could run crying to Lincoln, play victim, and drive the wedge between us even deeper.
Before? I would've slapped her.
But now?
Would you fight someone over trash?
I just stared at her. Cold.
Like I was watching a maggot squirming in a pile of shit.
Her smug grin faltered. Confusion flickered across her face. Then panic. Then rage.
She clenched her jaw—and slapped herself. Hard.
SMACK.
The sound echoed through the apartment. Then she started wailing.
"Nina, stop! Please!"
Chapter 2
Chelsea's scream was like a starting pistol.
Lincoln came flying out of the bathroom like a guard dog.
"Chelsea, what happened?"
Her cheek was bright red—clear handprint and all.
"Nina's just... upset... I get it... I don't blame her..."
Her acting was garbage. But for a guy like Lincoln? It was more than enough.
So he turned on me, eyes blazing.
"Nina! What the hell is wrong with you? You wanna be pissed, be pissed at me! Why are you taking it out on her?"
"She just graduated college! She doesn't know any better! She's sweet and kind and you're bullying her? Apologize. Now."
I didn't say a word. Just walked into the guest room and locked the door.
Outside, Chelsea cried. Lincoln comforted her.
I put on my headphones.
A notification popped up—friend request.
The name: Blind date guy—Maverick Stone.
I accepted.
Not a while, it got quiet. Lincoln took Chelsea home. And didn't come back that night.
Around 3 a.m., someone posted a photo in the company group chat.
Lincoln. Shirtless. Asleep. Looking satisfied and exhausted.
There were still plenty of people awake. Comments started flooding in.
[Boss lady going public!]
[Congrats! Wedding on the way soon?]
But some of the older employees—people who knew me—sent private messages.
[Nina, this is crossing the line.]
[She's basically declaring war on you.]
[You need to lock Lincoln down before that homewrecker wins.]
Back then, I helped Lincoln build that company from the ground up.
Also hired half those people myself.
Later, when things were stable, he said he didn't want me to work so hard. That he could take care of me. That couples shouldn't work together—it causes problems.
So I left. Became a stay-at-home girlfriend.
Years passed. The old employees remembered me.
The new ones? They didn't even know I existed.
[He's rotten. I don't want him anymore.]
After I replied that, I left the group chat.
I thought I'd be up all night. But I slept better than I had in months.
Maverick Stone never messaged me after the friend request.
I didn't care.
I only agreed to the blind date to make my mom stop worrying.
As for love?
I stopped believing in that from now on
Chapter 3
The next morning, I packed up my stuff.
Filled a few suitcases and had them shipped back to my parents' place.
Lincoln came home around noon.
He obviously knew about the group chat photo. Knew I left the chat.
After all, he was the group admin.
So he looked guilty.
"Look, it was late, okay? Chelsea was worried about me driving... We didn't—nothing happened, I swear! I crashed on the couch, that's it..."
"The photo was a joke. She's just a kid, she didn't mean anything by it."
He kept talking, eyes glued to my face the whole time.
"Besides... you shouldn't have taken it out on her last night... it was MY fault..."
I didn't look up from my phone.
Then he pulled a box of Swiss rolls out of his bag and set it on the table.
"Got these just for you. Something sweet always helps, right?"
I glanced at the box. Production date: yesterday.
So he bought a whole table of them for Chelsea, and now he's dumping the leftovers on me?
I grabbed the box and tossed it in the trash.
Lincoln's face darkened.
"What are you doing? Stop being difficult!"
"I don't like sweets."
I went back to my phone.
My mom was sending me options—venues, wedding dresses, banquet menus.
God, she was moving way too fast.
I'd only just agreed to go home and meet the guy, and she was already planning the whole wedding.
"Chelsea said all girls love sweets—"
He stopped himself. Too late.
Then his eyes flicked to my phone.
Saw the wedding dress my mom just sent.
[I think this one suits you better. You're tall, so a long train would look gorgeous on you. I even found the flower girls—twins! A boy and a girl, SOOOO cute!!]
Lincoln's face went white. Then dark.
"What wedding?"
"Who said you could pick out wedding dresses? Did you even ask me?"
"It's your mom again, isn't it? She's completely lost it! Why does she keep stirring up trouble?"
His voice was dripping with contempt for my mom.
Completely forgotten how she used to visit me at college and bring him more food and clothes than she ever brought me.
After Lincoln's parents divorced and started new families, he became the leftover kid. They sent money, sure. But no love. No attention.
My mom filled that gap. She treated him like her own son.
Back then, he used to say, "Nina, just for your mom alone, I'm gonna marry you."
"I'm not gonna be your family's son-in-law—I'm gonna be your family's son."
Back then, we had no money. No house. No way to get married.
But every night in that cramped apartment, we'd talk about our future—wedding, kids, the whole dream.
That dream was what kept us going.
Then we got money. We got a house. His business took off.
And suddenly marriage became a dirty word.
"Work comes first."
"I'm too busy right now."
"I heard marriage kills love."
"We're still young."
"Let's wait a little longer..."
Lincoln always had an excuse.
I felt hurt. But I stayed.
I'd already given him seven years. Walking away felt like throwing it all in the trash.
But now I see the truth.
If I leave now, those seven years were wasted.
If I stay, I'm just wasting more.
You can't get the past back. Cutting your losses is the only smart move.
Lincoln was still ranting.
He got louder and angrier, like my mom had committed some unforgivable sin.
When I didn't respond, he grabbed my phone and started yelling into the voice-to-text.
"Monica! Stop making things worse, will you?"
"We're young, we have our own plans! You meddling is just causing us problems!"
"We are NOT getting married anytime soon! So just STOP already!"
Then he tossed my phone on the couch.
"Nina, your mom is completely out of control. I swear—"
SLAP!
I hit him. Hard.
He froze mid-rant.
"You can disrespect me all you want. But you do NOT disrespect my mother."
I spoke slowly. Clearly. Every word like ice.
"She's NOT trying to marry me off to you. So don't flatter yourself."
"We're done."
Right then, Chelsea came bursting through the door.
Tears streaming down her face, voice shaking.
"Lincoln! You didn't use a condom last night! And I didn't take anything!"
"I'm still so young—I can't get pregnant!"
