Three Days Until Goodbye Chapter 02
He didn’t even look up from his screen as he said it.
His thumbs flew across his phone, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth every few seconds.
A memory hit me out of nowhere.
On our first anniversary, Alexander had surprised me with a mango cake.
I hadn’t wanted his effort to go to waste, so I took a tiny bite.
I ended up having a severe allergic reaction and passed out.
When I woke up, he was in tears, holding my hand, his fingers actually shaking.
“Mady, I will never let you near a mango again,” he’d promised. “I won’t ever let you be in pain.”
Pulling myself back to reality, I unzipped my bag and pulled out the hospital paperwork.
“I had a miscarriage,” I said.
He finally looked up, letting out an annoyed sigh.
“All I did was ask you to have a glass of wine. There’s a limit to this jealous act, Mady. Don’t make up stories about a baby.”
So, while I had spent the previous night doubled over in agonizing stomach pain, feeling entirely helpless and desperate, he thought I was just throwing a jealous fit.
I looked down at the paperwork and handed it to him.
“The baby is really gone.
“And we’re done, too.”
I didn’t even dare use the word breakup.
Five years ago, my parents’ company went bankrupt.
To pay off their massive debts, I took Alexander’s money and essentially became his mistress, entirely dependent on him to survive.
We’d lived together for five years. We’d even conceived a child together. Yet, I’d never once held the official title of his partner.
Alexander stared at the medical report, genuinely stunned.
After a long moment, his eyes dropped to my flat belly. He pulled me into his chest, his voice dropping, heavy with sudden guilt.
“Hey, stop crying,” he murmured, rubbing my back gently. “Just focus on getting better. We can have another baby.”
He looked at me with such pity, settling right back into our old intimacy.
Or at least, it would have felt that way if I could ignore the overwhelming scent of gardenia perfume clinging to his clothes. It was Sabrina’s exact fragrance.
My chest tightened. Fighting back a sudden wave of nausea, I shoved him away.
“Mr. Broughton, I’m serious.”
At the formal name, Alexander’s face instantly went cold.
“You’re being completely unreasonable again,” he snapped. “Do you still think you’re the rich heiress you used to be? Because no one else is going to support you financially if you walk out on me.”
He wasn’t wrong. I was no longer a pampered trust-fund girl.
But the memory of how things used to be was still so sharp.
In our most intimate moments, he would kiss my neck so gently, looking at me with absolute adoration.
“Mady, even though your family lost its wealth,” he used to promise me, “you are still the most important, most respected woman to me.”
I dug my nails into my palms. My lips trembled, but my throat was completely closed up. I couldn’t get a single word out.
A flash of panic crossed Alexander’s face as he realized he’d gone too far.
“Don’t misunderstand,” he backpedaled. “Brina and I are just putting on an act for the public. I’m not going to abandon you.”
He scrambled to pull out his phone.
“I was wrong about what happened at the banquet. Look, I’m unblocking your number right now. I swear I’ll never block you again.”
Then, he reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a small, elegant velvet box.
He popped it open to reveal a massive, sparkling diamond ring.
I froze in surprise.
Countless times, whenever we’d walked past a jewelry counter while shopping, I couldn’t help but linger on the rings.
And every single time, he would yank me away without a second thought.
“Mady, I treat you well enough,” he would mock. “You need to be satisfied with what you have.”
The message had always been crystal clear—I was just a casual companion.
He was perfectly fine paying my way, but he was never going to commit to a real future with me.
But now…
I stared at the ring, my entire body going rigid.
I just let him take my hand and shove the band onto my middle finger.
Alexander laughed, looking entirely triumphant.
“See, Mady?” he said. “I told you, you couldn’t leave me.”
Before I could even answer, my phone rang.
It was Sabrina.
“Madyson, Alex has just terrible taste,” she complained.
“He had this ten-million-dollar diamond ring custom-made for me, but the massive stone is so tacky.
“I honestly prefer your thousand-dollar promotional gift.”