Two Million and a Goodbye

In my fifth winter with Alex Pierce, I was diagnosed with cancer. That same week, he brought his first love home.
I didn't try to hide it. I handed him the oncologist's report. Alex lit a cigarette, smoked for a moment, and then said, I'll give you two million dollars. That should be more than enough to treat stage-two breast cancer.
He took another drag. "Let's not see each other again after this. My fiance is a wonderful person. I don't want her to be hurt."
I said nothing. I just watched as he packed his things and moved out of our apartment to start planning his wedding.
And me? I shaved my head and started chemo to save my own life.
A year later, in full remission, I ran into Alex by chance.
He grabbed my arm, his eyes red-rimmed. "Zoe, where have you been? I've been looking for you everywhere."
He said his engagement to his first love had been a mistake, a misunderstanding. He asked if we could start over.
I pulled my hand from his grasp, slowly but firmly. "I'm sorry, but I'm married now. And we just found out we're having a baby."

1
The day Alex Pierce broke up with me, I was holding the pathology report that confirmed I had breast cancer.
I didn't play the tragic heroine from some novel and hide it. I just handed him the paper.
"Are you sure about this? I have cancer. It's kind of serious."
Alex's usually cool, detached eyes widened for a second. He instinctively looked down.
On the single sheet of paper, the words were stark: Stage II Ductal Carcinoma. Immediate hospitalization and treatment recommended.
He clearly hadn't prepared a script for this. The air in the room grew thick and still.
Then again, when the golden boy of the city's most powerful family decides to dump a plaything with no family, no connections, and no remarkable beauty, he probably doesn't think he needs one.
But I was sick. And not just a little sick.
A flicker of somethinga moral burden, perhapscrossed his face.
Alex frowned, thinking for a long moment before speaking. "Alright. I'll add another million. Three million dollars as a severance. That's more than enough to cover your treatment."
This was the same man who, in high school, would hide in an empty classroom and cry about the mother he'd lost. Now, here he was, stone-faced, throwing money at the woman he'd spent five years with. His what was I? His girlfriend?
I wanted to laugh. After everything, all the intimacy, he couldn't even grant me that self-deceiving title.
I took a deep breath and took the card from his hand.
My gaze was steady.
"Do I need to sign anything?"
"What?"
"An NDA. Do I need to sign a non-disclosure agreement before I can use this money?"
A small, humorless smile touched his lips. "No. Let's just call it a clean break."
He really was effortlessly cool.
I nodded and slipped the card into my pocket, watching as he opened a drawer and removed his passport and a few expensive watches.
Hed obviously been planning this for a while. His best suits were already gone.
The soft lamplight caught the sharp angle of his jaw, and for a dizzying moment, he looked like the boy Id known in high school, saying a final goodbye.
But Alex hadn't truly smiled in years. His expression was a mask of indifference. "I'm deleting your number," he said flatly. "I don't want my fiance to get the wrong idea."
"If you need anything else, you can call my secretary. He'll handle it."
He walked to the door to put on his shoes. They were the ones I'd bought him for his birthday. He used to wear them all the time.
"Oh," he added, as an afterthought. "About your illness I'll ask around for doctors. Clara's friends know a lot of specialists in the field."
Clara Thorne. The one that got away. The one hed finally won back.
I heard my own voice, distant and calm. "Thank you."

2
The door clicked shut, and the apartment was finally, utterly silent.
It dawned on me then that this was a truly awful day. A day that deserved tears.
But when you hit rock bottom, sometimes you don't even have the energy to cry.
I tried to summon some emotion, but my eyes remained dry.
Giving up, I grabbed a change of clothes and went into the bathroom. After a long, hot shower, I stood staring at my reflection.
The face looking back wasn't a showstopper, but it wasn't ugly. Slender eyes, the kind Alex used to love.
Zoe, your eyes tell a story, he used to say. Every time you look at me, my heart aches.
He wasn't wrong. I had a story.
A gambling father, a drug-addicted mother. They both died, and I clawed my way up on social assistance and scholarships until, by some bizarre twist of fate, I met Alex Pierce and got entangled in his world.
To this day, I still don't know what stroke of luckor misfortuneled to us being together.
Five years. I could barely remember how I'd survived them.
Every day felt like a dream. The bookish nerd who somehow landed the one boy every other girl in school dreamed of.
Now, the dream was over. The woman in the mirror had lost her borrowed glow. She was just a patient with three million dollars and a two-thousand-square-foot apartment.
I couldn't quite put a name to the feeling that washed over me.
The silence in the apartment was deafening.
I turned on the heat and picked up my phone. Clara had just posted a photo.
The caption read: "After all this time, I found my way back to you."
It was a beautifully shot photo of a man and a woman kissing in silhouette.
Even in the dim light, I recognized the man's profile. It was Alex. The line of his jaw had once taken my breath away.
The comments were a flood of old classmates losing their minds.
OMG MY SHIP HAS SAILED I'M SO HAPPY I COULD DIE.
Congratulations! Wishing you a lifetime of happiness! You two are perfect for each other!
Take care of our girl, Alex! Shes an absolute angel.
Then, one dissenting voice.
Didn't Alex have a girlfriend? I think it was that girl who was always top of the class Zoe something?
I refreshed the page. The comment was gone.
In its place was a new reply from Alex himself: Baby, I'm all yours.

3
I needed to buy some things before checking into the hospital.
I walked into the mall and saw them.
Clara had returned from abroad in a hurry and hadn't brought enough clothes. Alex had been on his way to dinner with friends, so now a whole boisterous crew was trailing along behind them.
Alex's friends had never liked me. They thought he'd had a momentary lapse in judgment when he got with me and always treated me with a thinly veiled disdain.
Now that Clara was back, they were all smiles, a loyal entourage.
Alex's childhood friend, Sean, spotted me, and his brow furrowed.
"What are you doing here? You're not here to make a scene, are you? I'm telling you, Clara doesn't know anything, so don't you dare start something."
Another one, Mark, chimed in. "Yeah, seriously. Alex worships the ground she walks on. If you upset her, he'll make you regret it."
They were guarding against me like I was a thief.
Alex emerged from the dressing room after helping Clara with a dress. When he saw me, his face darkened.
"Zoe. You promised you wouldn't cause trouble."
His tone gave me a headache.
"I'm not."
"Then what are you doing here?"
"I'm picking up some clothes."
Before I could say another word, the shop owner saw me and bustled over.
"Zoe, sweetie! You're finally here! I've been waiting for you."
Her eyes darted between Alex and me, but I pretended not to notice.
I followed her into the stockroom to pick up the soft cotton lounge sets I had pre-ordered.
The owner was a kind soul. Her eyes were red.
"Zoe, what's going on? Isn't that man out there your boyfriend?"
Alex had come with me to her shop a couple of times. She remembered.
I managed a small smile. "No. We're just friends."
"Nonsense. He was here for your birthday, helping you pick out a dress. I remember how happy you were. You threw your arms around him and were so excited."
I did do that. Once. And Alex had lectured me on the way home.
He said he didn't like it when his partners were too clingy. That I needed to have more self-control.
I took a deep breath, forcing the memory down.
"It's alright, really. We're in the past. The woman with him today is his fiance."
"Don't worry about any of this," I told her. "I don't want to mess up your business. I have to go."
The owner knew I had cancer and refused to take my money.
After a bit of back and forth, I gave in, took the bag, and thanked her profusely.
As I was leaving, she pulled me into a hug, patting my back. "You're going to be okay, sweetie. You're strong."
The unexpected kindness almost brought me to tears.
Just then, the door to the adjacent dressing room opened. Clara stepped out in a slinky slip dress, looking down on us, both literally and figuratively.

4
Clara and I weren't exactly strangers.
In high school, we often shared the stage at award ceremonies. I was always first in our year; she was the 'outstanding student' recipient. We'd even nod and exchange polite greetings.
So it felt strange, now, to have her looking down her nose at me.
"Oh. Hi," I said, forcing a laugh. "Long time no see."
"Mm," was all she said.
Her gaze was colder than I'd expected. She scanned me from head to toe with undisguised contempt before turning away.
Alex immediately went to her, wrapping an arm around her waist and kissing her temple.
His eyes held a tenderness I had never seen before.
The shop owner sighed beside me. "Zoe, honey, if you need to cry, just let it out. I won't judge."
I just scratched my head, silent.
The problem was, I couldn't cry. My life was hanging by a thread. Who had the energy for heartbreak?
I left the mall and went straight to the hospital. The doctor explained they'd do surgery first, then chemo. He asked if I had any family to support me.
That stung.
I used to have someone who was supposed to be family. But he'd opted out.
I quietly explained that I had money, that I could hire a private nurse and sign my own consent forms.
Money talked. The doctor upgraded me to a private room and found me a wonderful, gentle nurse.
The first day after surgery, a dull, persistent ache radiated from my chest. My heart ached even more.
I scrolled through my phone and saw a post of Alex and Clara picking out wedding dresses. The pain in my surgical wound sharpened.
I took a photo of my IV drip, allowing myself a rare moment of self-pity. You're fine, Zoe. It doesn't hurt.
I refreshed the feed. Clara's post was gone.
I clicked on her profile. She'd deleted me.
Fantastic. Life was just a bowl of cherries, and I was the pit.
The biopsy results came back. The news wasn't good. The doctor said we'd start the first round of chemo. He warned me it would be tough and told me to prepare myself.
I thought I was prepared. I still threw up until I was empty.
In just one month, I lost a staggering amount of weight, and my spirit started to fray.
My nurse helped me out to the garden for a walk. I saw a boy sitting on a bench, his head wrapped in so many bandages he looked like a mummy.
He was yelling into his phone.
"What? You and Dad are on another date? I'm injured and you just leave me here!"
"My brother? All my brother cares about is work! He doesn't give a damn about me!"
"You're all heartless! Leaving your poor, helpless, adorable son all alone to go gallivanting around town! Is that any way for a family to act?"
"I don't care! I'm going to rebel! I'm turning to the dark side! I'm going to act out!"
He slammed the phone down and angrily started ripping leaves off a bush.
He threw them on the ground with a huff and then spun around.
Our eyes met. A stunningly beautiful face with wide, wet eyes looked back at me.
He was gorgeous. As adorable as a deer.
Under my stare, the boy's cheeks slowly turned pink.
After a long moment, he shyly got up and walked away.

5
I saw the boy again the next day.
It wasn't fate. Hospital life was crushingly boring, and being alone with my thoughts was dangerous.
I'd casually asked the nurses about him.
They said he was an immature rich kid with powerful connections, so the staff was careful not to upset him. He was constantly causing trouble, and his family would just send a secretary to clean up his messes.
It sounded like a TV drama, and I was intrigued enough to seek him out.
When I got to the garden, he was, as predicted, causing trouble.
He was climbing a ridiculously tall tree, trying to pick some wild berries.
His caregiver was frantic. "Sir, please! Those are poisonous! You can't eat those!"
DannyI'd learned his name was Dannyignored him, popping a berry into his mouth.
I spoke up calmly. "Those can cause kidney damage, you know."
He spat the berry out instantly, his face turning a shade of green.
"Really?"
"Mm-hmm."
He looked at me for a moment, then his eyes widened in recognition. "I remember you. You were walking here yesterday. What's wrong with you?"
I pointed to my chest. "Breast cancer. You?"
"Slipped and fell on my way to the bathroom at night. Got a concussion."
"Oh. Well, you should probably come down then. In case you get dizzy."
To my surprise, he actually climbed down. He walked over, and I realized just how tall he was.
So tall he looked like he might be lacking in the common sense department.
"You have cancer, miss?"
"Yeah."
"Does it hurt?"
"It's manageable."
I smiled, teasing him a little. "Compared to me, you've got it pretty good, don't you think?"
He pouted. "Yeah."
"So don't be so hard on your parents. You should try to be happy every day you're alive."
Like me. Before the cancer, I thought being an orphan was the worst thing in the world. Then I thought unrequited love was worse. Now that I might not even survive, I finally understood: just being alive is a blessing.
Danny just stared at me for a long time without saying anything.
The next day, he showed up with a gift.
"You need to take care of yourself, miss. And be happy every day."
I opened the small box. Inside was a delicate swan-shaped brooch.
It was exquisite. I pinned it to my hospital gown and smiled at him.
"You're a sweet kid, Danny."
He scratched the back of his head, looking embarrassed.
"My grandmother died of breast cancer," he explained. "When I saw you under the tree yesterday, I I thought of her."
"My grandma was the best person in the world. I grew up with her. After she died, there was this hole inside me. Nothing I did could fill it."
"When you told me to be happy every day that's something she used to tell me all the time."
As he spoke, his eyes welled up. He looked like he was about to cry.
"Uh," I said, a bit awkwardly. "If you want, I can give you a hug."
Danny sniffled. "Thanks."
He was all long limbs as he leaned in and gave me a quick, gentle hug.
"So, miss," he said, pulling back. "From now on, we're friends."

6
It was like Danny had found a new purpose in life. For the rest of my hospital stay, he was constantly popping into my room.
He really did seem to treat me as a stand-in for his grandmother, telling me everything that was on his mind.
Sometimes, he'd talk until he was exhausted and then curl up on the sofa in my room for a nap.
With this overgrown child to distract me, my days became surprisingly fun. I almost forgot about Alex's engagement.
But some people are determined to remind you.
The day before the engagement party, I received a text message.
Grand Imperial Hotel, Third Floor Ballroom. The engagement of Alex Pierce & Clara Thorne. The honor of Ms. Zoe Clark's presence is requested.
It wasn't hard to guess who sent it.
Clara still saw me as a threat. She wanted to humiliate me in public.
My doctor had warned me that stress was the last thing I needed right now. By all accounts, I shouldn't go.
But I had a different interpretation of "no stress." To me, it meant I needed to vent my anger.
I had a bellyful of resentment from the whole mess with Alex, and I needed an opportunity to stir the pot.
So I found Danny and asked him if he'd do me a favor: be my date to my ex-boyfriend's engagement party so we could crash it in style.
Danny's eyes lit up. "Absolutely."
The next morning, I got ready and went to the hotel early.
Alex was standing at the entrance in a sharp tuxedo, a broad smile on his face.
The moment I stepped out of the elevator, his smile vanished.
He strode over and grabbed my arm.
"What are you doing here?"
"Your fiance invited me. It would be rude not to come."
His face was a thundercloud. "We don't need your politeness. Get out."
"Alex, you have no heart. We were together for five years. Can't you at least let me have a piece of cake?"
Our voices weren't loud, but we were starting to draw attention.
Sean came over and put an arm around my shoulders. "It's fine, Alex. I'll keep an eye on her. You go greet your guests."
He steered me into the ballroom. "Zoe, I'm warning you one last time. Don't make a scene. If you do, Alex will hate you for the rest of his life."
His face was full of disgust, as if it were a foregone conclusion that the ex would always cause trouble for the new girl.
But I didn't. I did exactly as they wanted. I found a quiet corner table and started eating.
When most of the guests had arrived, the happy couple appeared on stage, looking like something out of a fairytale.
Sean was still hovering nearby. "Alex and Clara are about to start the ceremony. Don't do anything stupid. I'll be watching you."
I gave him a small smile. "Loud and clear."
Honestly, I just hadn't been to a party in a long time and thought it would be funny to crash my ex's.
Why wouldn't anyone believe me?
The romantic lighting began to swirl, music swelled, and the MC started the proceedings.
"Our groom has written a letter to his beloved bride, and I'd like to read it to you all."
"I remember it was our senior year of high school. I was going through the darkest time of my life. I'd locked myself in the old gym equipment room, ready to give up."
"And then you appeared, like an angel. You sat on the other side of that wall and talked me through the night. You gave me the courage to keep going."
"From that day on, I knew I loved you. Even when you went abroad to study, I never stopped waiting for you."
"Five years. I finally have you back. Clara Thorne, I love you. Let's spend the rest of our lives together."
The crowd erupted in applause.
I joined in, even yelling "Kiss her!" for good measure.
Sean looked at me, a strange expression on his face. "Zoe, I'm surprised. You've been reasonable. Maybe I misjudged you all these years."
He immediately looked chagrined, as if he'd said too much.
On stage, Alex kissed Clara. At the same moment, Danny finally arrived.
He sat down next to me, leaned over, and planted a loud kiss on my cheek, then slipped a ring onto my finger.
"Sorry I'm late, Zoe. You must be tired."
I was unfazed. "It's fine. Why are you sweating?"
I reached up to wipe his forehead, then straightened his collar.
Sean was staring, utterly dumbfounded. "Who who is this?"
"Oh," I said casually. "My boyfriend. He's a freshman in college."
Danny turned his head. "Hello, sir."
Sean was speechless.
I took Danny's hand and stood up to leave. On stage, Alex was staring at me, his eyes wide.
I didn't look away. I turned to Sean, my voice just loud enough for him to hear. "You know, five years ago, I went to that gym room too. I actually passed Clara on my way there. She said there was some psycho in the room, rambling nonsense, and she couldn't be bothered to listen, so she left."
"I was worried about him, so even though I had a nasty cold, I went and sat outside that room and talked to him all night. The next day, my cold had turned into pneumonia and I ended up in the hospital."
"It's funny. Only today did I realize Alex got the story wrong. I wonder how he'd react if he knew Clara had lied to him all this time?"
Sean looked like he'd been struck by lightning. He started to stand, but the mocking smile on my face stopped him.
I squeezed Danny's hand and walked away.
Just before we left the ballroom, I threw one last hook over my shoulder.
"Sean, you've always had a thing for Clara, haven't you? Now that Alex has the wrong girl, things are bound to get messy. This could be your chance to break them up and get the girl for yourself. The choice is yours."

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