Part 2Goodbye Billionaire Hello Doctorate

When I first met Carter, I had absolutely no idea who he was.

He had rolled up to my family's rundown porch in a beat-up, sputtering Chevy van, looking so sketchy that my younger brother actually tackled him to the dirt, thinking he was trying to kidnap me.

It wasn't until much later that I learned his actual car—a brand-new Bentley—had been sideswiped by a tractor, and he'd just borrowed the rusty van to get out of town while his ride was in the shop.

He ended up crashing at our place for a few days to nurse his bruised ribs. Sometimes, he'd pick wildflowers from the overgrown weeds by the ditch and hand them to me.

One afternoon, while I was out in the brutal humidity picking corn, he leaned against the fence post, grinning. "You look pretty out there. Be my girl, and you'll never have to do manual labor again."

I thought he was joking. I said yes, laughing it off. It wasn't until he drove back to our rural county a month later in a gleaming Bentley to take me on a date that I realized I was dating trust-fund royalty.

Jade set her fork down. "So what changed?"

"He started parking his sports cars right outside my lecture halls. People started whispering. They called me a gold digger, a sugar baby. He heard them, Jade. He never once defended me. Worse, he’d laugh with his frat brothers and say, 'She threw herself at me, what was I supposed to do?'"

I bit my lip, dropping my gaze as the familiar burn returned to my eyes. "Last month, I saved two months of waitressing tips to buy this gorgeous dress for his fraternity formal. I spent two hours getting my makeup perfect. When he saw me, he didn't even look at my face. He just dragged me back to his hotel room. And when the dress snagged on the clasp of his Rolex, he didn't help me unhook it. He got annoyed and just ripped the silk."

"He does this every time. He treats me like garbage, then buys me a designer teddy bear or a diamond bracelet to make up for it, as if paying the toll makes it okay."

I stared into the cold, half-eaten food. "When he shouted my name outside the library today, everyone stared at me like I was a piece of property he was coming to collect. It was like I suddenly woke up. It's been eight years. I am so tired of being his pet."

Jade let out a long, heavy sigh. She didn't press for more details.

After we paid the bill, she dragged me to a karaoke bar. I gripped the cheap plastic microphone and screamed lyrics until my vocal cords felt like sandpaper, but I didn't shed another tear.

I had two cheap beers in the dimly lit booth, and by the end of the night, my head was spinning. Seeing how out of it I was, Jade packed me into an Uber by ten.

The dorm hallway was pitch black. I fumbled for the doorknob, pushing the door open to an empty room. Peyton's bed was unslept in. My heart sank, plummeting straight to the linoleum floor.

Thankfully, I was too physically exhausted to spiral. I stripped off my jacket and collapsed into bed, dead to the world.

I didn't wake up until noon the next day, jarred out of sleep by my ringtone.

I answered without checking the caller ID. The frantic voice on the other end belonged to one of Carter's frat brothers.

"Tessa, you need to get to Carter's penthouse, right now! He drank half a liquor cabinet last night. Kept screaming that he couldn't live without you. He's barely breathing, Tessa, he's not gonna make it!"

A high-pitched ringing erupted in my ears. My heart slammed against my ribs.

I hung up, didn't bother brushing my hair, didn't even change out of my sweatpants. I grabbed the keys to my electric scooter and flew down the stairs.

I took every shortcut to his downtown high-rise. I was so panicked I took a wrong turn, narrowly avoiding the front bumper of a delivery truck. The driver laid on the horn and screamed something out the window, but I just gripped the handlebars tighter, pushing the throttle to the max.

By the time I reached his floor, I was gasping for air, praying to a God I barely believed in that I wasn't too late.

I shoved the heavy oak door open—and froze.

The penthouse was packed. At least a dozen people were lounging around the massive sectional, roaring with laughter. Right in the center sat Carter. He looked perfectly fine. Peyton was straddling his lap, holding a cluster of green grapes, popping one into his mouth as he casually leaned forward to accept it.

He used to tell me he hated grapes. He used to make me peel mangoes for him, and when I brought him the perfectly sliced plate, he wouldn’t even eat them. He'd just pat my head and say, “Good girl.”

Carter noticed me standing in the doorway. He raised an eyebrow, a slow, triumphant smirk spreading across his face. He turned to his friends.

"Told you. I win the bet."