Part 3He Chose Her for the World Cup. I Chose To Leave

Unfortunately for her, I genuinely did not care what kind of wild nights she and Louis had planned.

I looked at her, my voice as steady as ever: "Give me back the necklace."

A flash of pure annoyance crossed Monica's eyes.

She stood up, begrudgingly walked over to her vanity, and pulled open a drawer.

It was stuffed full of expensive jewelry, sparkling under the lights.

"Louis bought me all of these." Monica trailed her fingers over a diamond bracelet, her voice dripping with superiority. "He got me this for my birthday the year before last. I thought it was too expensive, but you know what Louis said? He said as long as I like it, he’ll buy it for me."

"And this one, he gave me this last year..."

Seeing that I was still completely unfazed, she smiled and raised an eyebrow. "Actually, all those holiday gifts he gives you? I picked those out for him."

"After all, my place in his heart isn't something just anyone can replace."

Looking at her smug, provoking face, my mind drifted back twelve years.

It was the first time Louis and I watched the World Cup together at home.

He had invited Monica over.

They chatted the whole night, while I sat there feeling like an intruder crashing their private date.

But I didn't want to make a scene, so I swallowed it all down.

That was, until the Argentine team Louis was rooting for scored a goal. Monica excitedly threw herself into his arms and planted a huge kiss on his cheek.

Louis caught her naturally, his expression a mix of helplessness and total indulgence.

They looked like a real couple.

I lost my temper on the spot and kicked Monica out.

That night, Louis apologized to me.

But from that day forward, he never watched another soccer game with me again.

I should have known right then that in Louis's heart, I would never compare to Monica.

It's just a shame it took me twelve years to figure it out.

I was done watching Monica's one-woman show. My patience had completely run out.

"Monica, your bragging means absolutely nothing to me," I said, looking at her coldly. "Since you love recycling trash so much, you can have Louis. Now, give me the necklace!"

Monica’s face went through shades of green and white.

Gritting her teeth, she dug the sapphire necklace out from the bottom of her jewelry box.

"Take it," she snapped, holding it out.

Just as my fingers were about to brush the metal, Monica suddenly let go.

Crack.

The necklace hit the hardwood floor.

That brilliant blue sapphire cracked right down the middle, a glaring, ugly fracture ruining it completely.

"Oops, my bad." Monica covered her mouth, her tone half-innocent, half-taunting. "My hand slipped. Don't be mad, I'll just have Louis buy you a new one."

I stared dead at the broken necklace on the floor.

That was the last thing my grandmother left me.

The blood rushed to my head, and every ounce of suppression I’d held onto exploded.

I raised my hand and slapped Monica across the face as hard as I could.

"You did that on purpose!" I screamed.

Monica’s head snapped to the side. She let out a shriek, her eyes instantly welling with tears.

"Skyler! Are you crazy?!"

A furious roar came from behind me.

The apartment door was thrown open.

Louis barged in and immediately pulled Monica into his arms, shielding her.

He glared at me with absolute rage, looking at me like I was a hysterical madwoman.

"It’s just a cheap necklace, did you really have to hit her?!" Louis spat, tenderly touching Monica’s red, swollen cheek.

I looked at the two of them clinging to each other, my eyes red with fury.

I took a step forward, raised my hand, and slapped Louis right across the face with a resounding smack.

"Yes, I did!" I screamed at him. "Louis, I regret ever loving you for the last twelve years!"

While Louis was still stunned by the blow, I picked up the broken necklace from the floor, turned around, and marched out of the apartment.

I could hear Louis angrily shouting behind me, but I didn't even look back.

Early the next morning.

Sitting in the back of a cab heading to the airport, my phone buzzed.

It was a text from Monica.

It was an Amazon link for a $19.99 knock-off sapphire necklace.

Attached was a taunting message: [So sorry. I guess this cheap piece of junk will have to do as compensation.]

Right after, a message from Louis popped up.

[You were completely out of line last night! We'll talk when you've calmed down in a few days.]

[I'll be back in New York on the 9th of next month, and we'll go get our marriage license then.]

Staring at the words on the screen, I actually let out a cold laugh.

Louis, I don't care who you watch the World Cup with anymore. And I'm certainly not marrying you.