Four Jobs to Save Her. She Betrayed

Emma Brooks had gone bankrupt and was buried under three million dollars in debt.

On the day we had to postpone our wedding, she told me she was seriously ill.

To pay her medical expenses and chip away at that debt, I started working four gig jobs a day.

Until today — when I took a part-time job at Universal Studios Hollywood.

Rumor had it: a spoiled rich girl had rented out the entire park just to celebrate her male assistant’s birthday.

If I could endure a scorching summer day inside a mascot costume, I would earn two thousand dollars.

Two thousand dollars — enough to cover two more days of Emma’s hospital bills.

But the moment I put on the oversized mascot head, I saw something that made my blood run cold.

Emma.

The woman who was supposed to be bedridden at Cedars-Sinai.

She was lounging in Liam Hayes’ arms — her “assistant” — leaning against his chest while taking delicate bites from the ice cream he held up for her.

Then, the ice cream slipped from Liam’s hand and splattered over his designer sneakers.

I hadn’t even recovered from the shock when Emma noticed me.

She waved lazily, pulled out a stack of bills, and tossed them right in front of me.

“Wipe my boyfriend’s shoes clean,” she said. “The money is yours.”

…

Realization hit me like a freight train, and I began to shake uncontrollably.

Liam shoved his foot toward me, impatience written all over his face.

I reached for the mascot head, wanting to rip it off — to ask Emma what the hell was going on.

But he spoke first:

“Emma, what if Ethan goes back to the hospital and finds you gone? What will he do?”

My hands froze.

Emma leaned closer to him, licking the melting ice cream off his fingers with slow, intimate intent.

“He won’t find out,” she whispered. “He told me this morning he’d be doing a gig — two thousand for a full day. He’ll be gone for hours.”

Liam chuckled, amused:

“Two thousand? You spent what — two hundred grand renting this entire theme park?”

“More than that,” she purred. “But if it makes you happy on your birthday, Liam, I’d spend anything.”

Then she rose onto her toes and kissed him.

Not a fleeting peck — a hungry, claiming kiss.

My fists tightened inside the suit.

Three years together.

She always claimed to be shy, “traditional.”

She had never even held my hand in public — yet now she was devouring another man in broad daylight.

When they finally pulled apart, Liam looked pleased… entitled.

He glanced at me standing frozen, then kicked me hard in the shin.

“That’s a hefty tip. I told you to clean my shoes. Why the hell are you just standing there?”

I stumbled to the ground.

He wiped his shoe against my side, then strutted away with Emma, hand in hand.

I stared at their silhouettes disappearing into the distance.

My breath turned jagged.

Pain — raw and suffocating — nearly forced me onto my knees.

I finally pulled the mascot head off.

Looked down at the scattered bills.

Some were crumpled, some stained.

One hundred-dollar bill still had oily smudges across the corner.

I remembered that one.

Last night, working a food stall gig outside Downtown LA, a drunk guy knocked over my grill.

I blocked his way when he tried to leave —

He sneered, flicked that filthy bill at me, and walked away.

I knelt and gathered every single dollar.

Two thousand and sixty-five dollars total.

All cash.

The same money I put into Emma’s hands yesterday.

For her meals.

For her hospital stay.

For her.