Part 2I Broke Up With Him His Life Broke Down

Rhys finally stumbled in around two in the morning.

His luggage—a couple of overstuffed weekend bags—was dumped unceremoniously in the living room. I glanced at his messy collar, catching a faint, dark smudge of lipstick and the unmistakable look of a hasty cleanup.

He scowled, his tone instantly aggressive. “Gemma. What the hell is this? What’s with all the drama?”

I stopped packing my own small box of essentials. My voice was ice. “We’re done. You need to move out.”

“Seriously? Over this?” He scoffed. “I just forgot the date. You know how slammed I’ve been with work.”

I let out a cold laugh. “Slammed enough to forget your own engagement, but not too busy to go swimming with someone else?”

I paused, the air suddenly thin. “Where is the dress?”

A flicker of guilt—fast, but visible—crossed his face. He pressed his lips together.

“That old thing? I don’t know where I tossed it. I’ll pay you for it.” He pulled out his phone, ready to transfer money. “Twenty thousand? That should cover it.”

The anger I’d suppressed all night finally erupted, scalding and pure.

“No! You know exactly how much that gown meant to me!” My voice cracked. “It was my grandfather’s final gift. It’s not something you can just slap a price tag on!”

He rolled his eyes, a sound of supreme impatience. “So what? Fine, I’ll add another ten thousand. Does that finally shut you up?”

Ding-dong. My phone vibrated: three thousand dollars deposited.

He looked utterly unbothered. “Look, I’m exhausted. Let’s just cool off tonight, okay?”

He strode into the guest room and slammed the door shut.

I stared at the closed door, and the last, microscopic flicker of warmth I held for him—the hope that he was still the man I fell for—was extinguished.

I picked up my phone and dialed a number. “Hey, Lou. I need a reliable moving company… first thing in the morning.”