The Ninth and Final Bailout on Our Love

On Thursday afternoon, I left work early to go home and pack up my things.

When I pushed open the apartment door, I saw someone standing in front of the full-length mirror in the living room.

It was Stacy, and she was wearing a wedding dress, but it wasn't hers. It was mine.

I had carefully kept that wedding dress folded at the bottom of my suitcase, wrapped in silk.

Mom loved to sew, and this was something she'd made for me on her sickbed, embroidering the fabric with my favorite cherry blossoms, stitch by stitch.

A week before she passed away, she held my hand and said, "Even if I'm not around when you get married, I'll still be there to witness it as long as you wear this."

It had been eight years since she passed, and I had never been able to wear it ever since.

But now, Stacy was wearing it, twirling in front of the mirror as the hem trailed on the floor, picking up a layer of dust.

"Your wedding dress is so beautiful, Joyce! You won't get angry at me for trying it on just this once, would you?"

She was smiling very sweetly at me as she caressed the embroidery on the dress like she was admiring a spoil she'd looted.

"Take it off."

"Why are you so petty, Joyce? It's not like I'm going to ruin it just by trying it on—"

"I said, take it off!"

I didn't shout at her. However, Stacy was stunned. She'd never seen me like this before.

Melvin immediately rushed out of the bedroom, shielding her behind him.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Jocelyn? So what if she wanted to try on your dress? What's the big deal about it? Must you do this to her?"

Stacy hid behind him as fat tears splashed down her face. "Melvie… It's all my fault… Don't blame it on Joyce…"

"I need to discuss something with you," Melvin said, speaking to me as if he were just addressing a tenant in his apartment.

"I've already booked the apartment in Orville Towers. Stacy's side is paying the down payment for that, and this apartment lease is ending next month. You should move out next week."

He wasn't even looking at me when he said that, instead fetching some paper towels and dabbing the tears off Stacy's face the entire time.

He then got his phone and transferred 1,000 dollars to me.

"That's your compensation. It should be enough for you to rent a place for a month. We'll forget about everything else I owed you in the past."

Forget about it?

He was planning to wipe out all of the 70,000 dollars he owed me over the years?

I glanced at my phone transfer notification and transferred the money back to him.

He got the notification on his phone this time, and he was stunned. "You…"

"I don't want a single penny of your filthy money."

I then walked into the bedroom, crouched down, and picked up the badly trampled wedding dress on the floor, cradling the dress in my arms.

Then, I went back into the living room, took something out from the depths of my bag, and placed it on the coffee table.

It was a cream envelope with gold edges stamped around it, written in calligraphy that Dad penned himself.

Melvin was still engrossed with his phone, probably still trying to understand why I returned the money to him.

"What's that?"

"Open it," I said.

He tore open the envelope impatiently, muttering under his breath.

Then, he froze.

"The groom, Mr. Adrian Vaughan, and the bride, Ms. Jocelyn Bloomberg, cordially invite you to witness their matrimony…"

The date was set for next Saturday, and the venue was at the third-floor ballroom at Orville Towers.

Melvin's phone slid from his hand to the ground, the screen cracking right across Stacy's face on his wallpaper.

"Orville Towers? B-But that's where I…"

"That's where you're holding your wedding too. You're on the first floor. I'm on the third," I replied.

His lips began trembling. "W-Who's Adrian Vaughan?"

"Your biggest old-time client. The one where even your CEO has to mind his P's and Q's when he sees him. The one whose level you'll never reach even if you worked yourself to the bone for the next hundred years."

I then slammed down a piece of paper on the table.

"This is a bill of everything you owe me over the course of the past three years. It's a total of 270,000 dollars. It includes rent, personal loans, your mother's hospital deposit, and every penny I paid for you that you claimed you'd pay me back later.

"Transfer the full amount to my card by next week. If even a single penny is short, I will be seeing you in court."

Melvin's face turned as white as a sheet.

Stacy's eyes were still wet and moist behind him. However, the expression on her face had changed.

She stared at the name "Adrian Vaughan" on the invitation for a long time, looking like she'd just been slapped in the face.

"W-Wait… Your last name is Bloomberg?" she asked, her voice turning shrill. "Orville Towers belongs to the Bloombergs—you're William Bloomberg's daughter?"

"Nice to meet you too, Ms. Decker," I said with a chuckle. "What did you think you were stealing away from me? A gigolo? A decent salary? Or an apartment in my dad's building?

"I don't want any of those anyway."

I then reached for the invitation and yanked it out of Melvin's hands, placing it on the table. His fingers were clenched around it, and I had to use a bit of force. His nails scratched the back of my hand, and it stung a little, but I didn't flinch.

"My wedding is next Saturday, at the third-floor ballroom. Bring the invitation with you if you intend to attend. If not, then you can remain at the shabby first-floor ballroom. It's none of my business."

Then, I turned and pulled the door open.

Stacy's sobbing rang out from behind me. But this time, she was crying for real. She wasn't putting on an act anymore.

Melvin kept calling my name, louder and louder each time. I could even hear them fighting afterward, but I never looked back.