Bad Boy Rich

“Of course I’m distant. It’s difficult for me to be here.”

“You’ve been here for just over a month! It doesn’t seem difficult. You’ve managed to make friends, even male ones. Just tell me, are we over?”

“Liam, we agreed when I came out here that our relationship would just see where it took us. No commitments.”

“So that’s how you justify fucking him?”

Liam accusing me of sleeping with Wesley awakened a beast inside of me. I didn’t betray him, at least, our time apart was agreed upon. He had no clue how lonely I was. No compassion when it came to me being away from Mom. His answer was to get married, pay for what I needed and keep me holed up in his parents’ basement.

I didn’t want that life.

And I didn’t want to continue holding onto something that didn’t feel right.

I loved him, but it wasn’t enough.

“I’m not fucking him!” I yell back, lowering my voice when a woman turns around. “Stop doing this. Stop putting pressure on me. You don’t know what it’s like to be alone. To be responsible for my brother who spends his time out doing god knows what. To have family and friends back home and be so alone. I miss it so much it hurts. So just stop—”

“I’m going.”

“Liam, please, I’m sorry.” My remorse kicks in—delayed, yet gut-wrenching at the same time. “Where are you going?”

“I shouldn’t have come. Tell Flynn I said bye. Good luck Milly.” Liam glances at me one more time, the skin around his eyes bunching up in a pained stare. “You want a bad boy. You’ve found your contender. Just don’t think that I’ll be waiting and ready to save you. Been there, done that.”

He finally walks away, leav

ing me alone on the street. I am at a loss of what to do. Begging the universe for some sort of sign. Do I run after him, tell him I’m sorry and try to mend what I so foolishly broke?

Or did the universe play its part—align the stars so Wesley and Liam would be at the same place, same time, forcing me to choose a hand?

Maybe Mrs. Ling was right.

I let him go, though it pains me. Forcing the bittersweet memories to fade away—if only for just this moment—and continue my journey, my purpose here, with one less person in my wings.

Flynn and Wesley are nowhere to be seen, so I head back to the apartment, flinging myself onto my bed. It starts with one silent tear, falling down my cheek as the salty liquid settles on my lips. But one tear becomes a stream. A constant flow of sadness for letting go of a man that did nothing wrong. He was your textbook prince charming.

But this just wasn’t the right time.

I fall asleep from the exhaustion, waking up in the dark to the sound of a car backfiring. It startles me, my heart pounding from the loud sound. I’m awake, at some god-awful hour, wishing the morning would come until the sound of heavy breathing distracts me.

My eyes open slowly—strained. Wesley is sitting on the armchair near the window. I pull myself up, rubbing my tired eyes. The same time it all comes back to me: the restaurant, Wesley and Liam’s arguing, the breakup afterwards.

“What are you doing here?” I croak.

“I think we need to talk,” he growls, abandoning the chair and standing over me beside the bed.

“I leave for two minutes and you’re here with another guy who happens to be your boyfriend?”

His anger morphs into a jealous rage; his fist meeting the wall with a ferocious punch. I leap off the bed, shocked at his sudden outburst. A minute ago he was staring at me, calm and eerily silent. Now I had a dent in the wall that my landlord will crucify me over.

“What did you do that for?” My high-pitched voice does nothing to hide my panic. “Do you know how much that will cost me! Of course not, you would have no concept of what it’s like to have nothing and work hard for every cent you own.”

“To let out my frustration,” he shouts again, pacing the room back and forth. “You never said you were in a relationship.”

“I said it was complicated.”

A laugh escapes him; delirious and unwelcoming. He stops the manic pace, positioning himself in front of me with an overpowering stance.

“This is the problem. You don’t open up about you.” He points his finger into my chest, eyes blazing. “You can say all you want about your complications but you don’t tell me why, or who. I mean, for fuck’s sake, do you have some lovechild back home? Are you part of a traveling circus act? Who the fuck knows!”