At our high school reunion, my ex announced he was getting married.

In the middle of the congratulations, someone piped up. “Hey, where’s Wren tonight? She didn’t show?”

The whole room cracked up.

“Wren? Probably still earning her keep in some rich guy’s bed.”

“She dumped James for money, and now look at him. He’s the wealthiest guy in New York. Bet she’s kicking herself.”

Someone snickered.

“I heard the guy’s some fat old man. God, how does she even stomach it.”

I broke up with James Thorne the year he loved me the most, and walked straight into the arms of another man, a man with money.

Now he had a new girlfriend, he’d taken over Thorne Capital, and he was one of New York’s most talked-about young executives.

He’d organized this reunion because he couldn’t wait to show off how good his life had turned out.

“Enough. Drop it.”

In the middle of the laughter, James spoke up. “I have a better life now. Whether Wren is dead or alive has nothing to do with me anymore.”

“What if she really were dead?”

The room went silent.

“No way.”

Someone broke the silence. “Wren? She loves her own skin too much. Don’t you remember the fire? James went in to save her, and what did she do? She ran. If it wasn’t for Sienna, he wouldn’t have made it out.”

Sienna Shore was James’s fiancée.

She’d had a crush on him for three years in high school, chased him for another three in college, and now she’d finally landed him. A sweet ending, really.

James’s face darkened.

“Tell her that no matter how much she plays the victim, I’m not seeing her. And I’m sure as hell not forgiving her.”

His voice was ice.

What kind of game was Wren playing now?

Had she heard he was getting married, regretted it, and started putting on the heartbroken act?

Zoe reached into her bag and pulled out a small, delicate ring.

“I already saw her.”

“James, she asked me to give this to you before she died.”

When he took it, his fingers froze.

It was the ring he’d bought to propose to me, the year he graduated from college.

Back then, James was chasing the painter’s dream and flat-out refused to take over the family company. He wanted to make it on his own, with me.

He’d cut himself off from every dollar the Thorne family offered, and we had nothing.

When he proposed, he held up that ring and said, “Wren, all I’ve got right now is you and a heart that’ll love you forever. Nothing else.”

“This ring is small and it’s nothing fancy, but I worked a whole month to buy it. Once my paintings start selling, I’ll get you a real diamond. Deal?”

I looked down at him. He couldn’t hide the love in his eyes even if he tried.

I took the ring, slipped it onto my own finger, and said softly, “Okay.”

He scooped me up and spun me around.

Now, here he was, staring at the ring with a flat, unreadable face, turning it between his fingers.

A long moment later, he dropped it in the trash.

“Zoe, I know you two are close, but don’t run errands for her. I can see exactly what she’s doing.”

“She had you bring me this ring so I’d think about the past and soften up. Right?”

“Then she really doesn’t know me at all.”

He said it like he was talking about a stranger.

Zoe sighed, pulled out her phone, and opened a video.

“Honestly, I wish this were just some scheme of hers too.”

Her voice was rough. “Just watch.”

The video started playing. It was me, cleaning the bathroom in a nightclub.

A few months ago, we’d run into each other there.

“Wren? Is that you?”

“What happened to you? What are you doing here, cleaning toilets?”

From inside the stalls came the sound of someone drunk and vomiting. Zoe wrinkled her nose, half-covered it with her fingers, and didn’t bother to hide her disgust.

I didn’t react, because I’d gotten used to it.

“You disappeared for two years. I never thought I’d find you here.”

Zoe stared, openly shocked.

Fair enough. I was skin and bones, and filthy.

The illness had wrecked my immune system, and my whole body was covered in an angry red rash that itched constantly. Steroids were the only thing keeping it down.

I gave her an awkward smile and wiped my dirty hand on the rag.

“I thought you got yourself a sugar daddy. Did he cut you off or something?”

“Wren, say something. Do you have any idea what people are saying about you? They’re saying you’re a gold-digger, that you dumped James and got picked up by some old, ugly rich guy. Is any of it true?”

I rinsed out the mop. “Doesn’t matter,” I said quietly. “Let them say whatever they want.”

“As long as James is happy.”

I bent over and rolled up my sleeves, and my wrists came into view, covered in rash and scratch marks.

I caught Zoe’s stunned look and tried to keep it light. “Some drunks come in here and lose it. Comes with the job.”

“Wren, are you trying to look pathetic, or noble? Which is it?”

There was nothing but disbelief in her voice.

“You walked out on him without looking back.”

“James drank himself sick for you. He ended up in the ER with stomach bleeding more than once. He almost died, and you didn’t show up. Not once.”

I walked over to one of the stalls and opened the door.

That was everything I owned: a grimy blanket, a change of clothes, a wash basin, a framed photo of my grandmother, and a small jewelry box. Inside the box was the ring, the one that meant everything to me.

I looked at Zoe and felt like I was looking at her from another life.

“I’m not playing noble, and I’m not playing the victim.”

“And there’s no rich guy.”

“I’ve got nowhere else to go. This is where I live.”

Zoe stepped closer and gasped.

After James and I broke up, I couldn’t find work anywhere.

Eventually I ended up at this nightclub, hired on as cleaning staff.

One night, some big, bloated guy started harassing me. He had his arm around my waist and backed me into a corner. He was huge, and I couldn’t push him off.

Someone got it on the security feed and uploaded it. The caption read: Nightclub princess kept by a rich daddy.

It hit our high school group chat and blew up.

People kept tagging me, demanding that I explain.

The pressure was suffocating, and I couldn’t breathe.

I left the group chat and deleted all the messages.

“Why didn’t you say something? Why are you such a coward?” Zoe was almost yelling.

I tried to play it off and gave her a small smile.

“Isn’t this perfect, though? Now James can really give up on me.”

She grabbed my arm and I flinched, hissing through my teeth as my brow knotted up.

“They do this to you?”

“Wren, I’m taking you to James. We’re going to tell him right now. The whole thing is a misunderstanding.”

“Do you know how much he’s hated you these past two years?”

I shook my head and took a step back.

I worked the back rooms of a nightclub and was almost cut off from the outside world.

But I wasn’t stupid. From all the chatter that passed through that club, I knew exactly how James was doing.

His career was thriving. He had a beautiful woman on his arm.

We lived in different worlds now, and going back to explain anything didn’t mean a thing anymore.

“Isn’t it better if he hates me?”

I smiled a little. “Let him live the rest of his life hating me. Better than carrying me around forever.”

“I have a blood disorder, a serious one. Treatment costs a lot.”

“I’m not going to last much longer, Zoe.”

“Promise me. Don’t tell anyone.”

Zoe’s face went grim, and her eyes started to fill up.

Then something seemed to click. “Blood disease? Six months ago, James got sick too. Some kind of blood disorder. He only made it because somebody donated bone marrow anonymously, and...”

Her eyes went huge, like the pieces had just landed.

“That was you, wasn’t it. You were the donor.”

I gave her a small, bitter smile.

When I found out James was sick, I drained every cent I had, got typed through the NMDP, registered as an anonymous donor, and flew across the country to the matched hospital to go through with the procedure.

But it was a long way home. I spiked a fever on the way back, and once I got home, the surgical site got infected badly.

I had no health insurance. The bills piled up, and I missed the window for proper treatment.

After that, my immune system malfunctioned, triggering a string of subsequent health issues.

That was also when I saw the news. James had been so moved by Sienna’s devotion through his illness that he’d decided to get engaged to her.

I’d already promised myself I wouldn’t love him anymore, that I wouldn’t step into his life again.

But seeing that photo of him with her on his arm, and the way he was looking at her, something in me dropped right through the floor.

I knew that look.

It was the way he used to look at me.

I felt the ache hit my chest all over again.

Zoe sucked in a sharp breath.

“How can you not have money for treatment? Didn’t James’s mother give you a check when you broke up? Did you not cash it?”

She pulled out her phone. “Okay, fine. I won’t tell James what’s going on with you. But this, I can’t sit on.”

“They all said you only cared about money and had no dignity. They said all sorts of awful things about you.”

“Wren, you’re my best friend. I’m not letting them talk about you like that.”

I panicked and grabbed her hand.

“Don’t.”

I said it quietly.

“I took the money.”

James’s mother had handed me a check for half a million dollars and told me to walk away from her son.

“I know your grandmother needs money for her treatment.”

“I can help.”

“But there’s a condition.”

I didn’t have to think to know what it was.

“Leave my son.”

The air went very still.

She sat across from me, calmly picking up her coffee as if none of this mattered.

“You know Thorne Capital is waiting for him to take over.”

“But all he does is fuss over those useless paintings. He’s going nowhere.”

“You want what’s best for him too. Don’t you?”

I couldn’t breathe and couldn’t say a word.

I’d always known James had been born with a silver spoon. Thorne Capital had been waiting for him since the day he was born.

But he didn’t want business. He wanted to paint.

After college, he cut every tie with the family company and threw himself into his art.

He was new, and nobody was betting on him yet. His apartment was stacked with canvases, and most of them never sold.

I’d told him I’d wait. I’d wait until the day he made it.

Then my grandmother took a turn. She needed chemo immediately.

She’d raised me. My parents were always working somewhere far away, barely home, and it was always just her and me.

I couldn’t lose her.

James couldn’t bear to see me like that, and he sold off all his favorite paintings, dirt cheap, just to scrape together her first round of treatment.

But there was a second round coming. And a third.

I couldn’t wait anymore.

He hadn’t given up on his dream, and I couldn’t be the one to make him.

But on my own, I couldn’t save her.

I sat there looking at that check, my fingertips shaking.

“I want you to take this money and leave him immediately. I want him to see that without money, love doesn’t even survive.”

“That’s the only way he’ll take Thorne Capital willingly.”

I nodded. My heart was bleeding.

“You never told James any of this?”

“Mm-hm.” I closed my eyes.

“I promised his mother. I had to keep it quiet.”

“But, well.”

I sighed and looked over at my grandmother’s photo.

“Grandma. Her treatment came too late, and she was already so old, so fragile. After a few rounds, she passed.”

My head dropped.

“I lost the last person I had in the world.”

“What about the rest of the money? Wasn’t there enough left for your treatment?”

I shook my head.

“The rest, I used to buy back every painting James had sold off. All of them. I paid above market and donated them to a museum.”

“I didn’t want to owe him too much.”

“There were maybe ten thousand left. I donated it to a children’s education charity. Those kids needed it more than I did.”

After that, Zoe started coming by every few days.

She brought food, vitamins, clean clothes.

Later, she said she’d found me a cheap little place to rent. It was out of the way, but anything was better than living in a nightclub bathroom.

I was grateful, but I said no.

I was getting weaker, and the pain was getting worse.

I knew I didn’t have long.

I didn’t want to leave too many debts behind in the time I had left.

I couldn’t pay them back anymore.

One stormy night, the bar owner found me passed out in the cleaning closet.

The hospital tracked down the only contact I had. Zoe.