He Put His Ex First So I Found My True Mate Chapter 22
The six-person group chat sprang back to life after two years of silence.
Cynthia demanded to know why Graham had never deleted the files.
George immediately started blaming Blair, since the whole game to test my breaking point had been her idea.
Blair shot back with a voice message.
“The wax marks were George’s design, and the betting sheet was Cynthia’s. Why is this suddenly all my fault?”
At last, Graham appeared.
“Stop. It was one trip. Mara can’t possibly win arbitration over a few jokes.”
Cynthia answered right away:
“Then you pay.”
“You were the one who kept saying she wouldn’t leave. You were the one who said you’d have her cover it the next day. So you can cover everyone’s share now.”
No one replied.
They had once believed that as long as all six of them stuck to the same story, I would remain the oversensitive outsider who was ruining the mood.
But the moment real consequences appeared, the first thing they did was start crossing each other out of “we.”
The next day, Cynthia’s attorney contacted mine.
She was willing to repay her full share of the bill, but only if I agreed not to publicize her comments on the betting sheet.
“Decline,” I said.
“She may withdraw the offer.”
“Then we’ll see her in arbitration.”
Half an hour later, George also proposed a settlement.
His condition was that I delete the line about the foster house.
I stared at the email and felt a wave of disbelief.
At the time, he had thrown one of my oldest wounds into a group chat for a laugh.
Now that the line might become part of an official record, he finally admitted it should never have been written.
My attorney asked, “Do you intend to make any of it public?”
“No.”
“Then why not take the deal?”
“Because I’m not interested in selling them my silence for money they already owe me.”
Whether the evidence was disclosed would be governed by arbitration rules.
It would not be purchased from me with a repayment that should have happened two years ago.
My attorney nodded and sent both refusals.
By that evening, Cynthia had paid the principal and interest in full.
George paid twelve minutes later.
They didn’t buy my forgiveness.
They only repaid what they had dragged out for two years.