He Used Our Past to Control Me

My boyfriend's face was full of impatience when he ditched me at our anniversary dinner because of a call from his childhood sweetheart.

I was with you through thick and thin. She just got fired and is a mess. What's the big deal about being a little understanding?

I froze, pulling at the corners of my stiff lips.

There it was again: "I was with you through thick and thin."

Ever since we pulled through the toughest times of our startup three years ago, that phrase had been his golden ticket out of any argument.

I had a high fever and urgently needed to go to the hospital.

But he drove to pick up his drunk childhood sweetheart:

"I lived in a leaky basement with you. Why are you making a fuss about taking a cab to the ER by yourself?"

I worked overtime for a month straight, my stomach hurt so bad I broke out in a cold sweat.

But he brought homemade chicken soup to Chloe, who was suffering from period cramps:

"I ate expired bread with you for six months. Are you really going to fuss over a bowl of soup with her?"

Now, watching him rush out of the restaurant without a backward glance, I coldly called the waiter for the check.

He probably forgot.

Today was the day I said yes to his proposal.

I managed a bitter smile and took off the diamond ring on my finger.

If he loved suffering so much.

Then he could forget about touching a single penny of our future wealth.

"Send over that haute couture necklace. Chloe just got fired, she's really upset, she needs something to distract her."

"I was there for you during your severe depression. Are you really going to fuss over a necklace?"

Ethan's SnapChat lit up on the screen.

I stared at those words, my fingertips trembling.

He always did this, skillfully rewriting history, portraying himself as a long-suffering savior.

But he forgot why I had severe depression in the first place.

It was to secure investments for him.

I drank with investors until my stomach bled, ending up in the hospital for half a month.

It was to cover the financial collapse caused by his poor decisions.

I sold the heirlooms my grandmother left me, and for six months straight, I slept only three hours a day.

Now, he was taking the money I risked my life for, to comfort another woman.

I didn't reply, slamming my foot on the gas.

I turned the car around and drove towards the villa, our dream home we'd just gotten the keys to last month.

The moment I pushed open the door, the villa was brightly lit.

I froze in the entryway, my blood turning to ice instantly.

Chloe was wearing the wedding dress I'd finalized after thirteen rounds of revisions.

She stood in front of the massive floor-to-ceiling mirror.

Ethan was half-kneeling on the floor, carefully adjusting the hem of her skirt.

Hearing the door open, Chloe's eyes immediately welled up:

"Scarlett, please don't get the wrong idea."

"I was so upset about getting fired today. Ethan said this wedding dress was beautiful and told me to try it on to feel a moment of happiness"

"I'll take it off right away."

She said she'd take it off, but her hands clutched the skirt tightly.

A tear splashed onto Ethan's hand.

Ethan immediately stood up, shielding her behind him:

"Scarlett, what are you doing back? Who are you glaring at with that sour face?"

"Chloe is already feeling down. Can you stop being so harsh and unforgiving?"

I looked at my cherished wedding dress, being trampled under her feet.

My voice was cold, like ice: "Take it off."

"Are you insane?!"

Ethan roared, lunging forward and grabbing my wrist.

"It's just a dress!"

"When we were at our lowest during the startup, I lived with you in a leaky basement and ate moldy bread."

"Now you're upset about lending a wedding dress to Chloe? Why are you suddenly so materialistic?"

Materialistic, huh? What a joke.

I forcefully yanked my hand away from him, stepping closer:

"Ethan, you ate moldy bread because you spent all our remaining money paying off your mom's gambling debts!"

"The night the basement flooded, I had a 102-degree fever, scooping water out with a bucket, while you were at the internet cafe playing games, escaping reality!"

"How dare you use my suffering to manipulate me into backing down!"

I suddenly reached out, grabbing the neckline of the wedding dress Chloe was wearing.

"Ah!"

Chloe shrieked.

"Scarlett! Don't you dare touch her!"

A flicker of panic crossed Ethan's eyes.

He didn't hesitate, raising his hand and shoving my shoulder hard.

He put all his strength into that push.

I was caught off guard, tumbling backward.

I crashed heavily into the glass display cabinet behind me.

Glass shards instantly cut my arm and the side of my face.

Blood dripped onto the expensive carpet.

But what pierced me to the core was the cheap clay figurine inside the cabinet.

It was a token of his promise to love me forever, molded by Ethan himself during our first year of startup.

Now, it lay mixed with shattered glass.

Smashed to pieces, beyond repair.

The air was dead silent.

Ethan looked at the blood on my face, his fingers freezing for a moment.

But the next second, Chloe tugged on his sleeve, letting out a soft sob.

He looked down at me, sprawled in a pool of blood, his voice full of impatience:

"Scarlett, you brought this on yourself."

"You're not just selfish; now you're acting like a shrew."

"You'd better stay in this house and think about what you've done. Don't come looking for me until you've learned to be more understanding."

With that, he didn't even glance at me.

He took off his suit jacket, draped it over Chloe, and escorted her out of the villa without looking back.

I sat amidst the wreckage, not crying.

The wound on my face hurt, but that rotten piece of my heart that had festered for three years.

It was finally completely excised at that moment.

I grabbed a tissue from the coffee table to cover my bleeding face.

With my other uninjured hand, I pulled out my phone and dialed my lawyer.

"Mr. Harrison."

The voice on the other end was respectful.

I looked at the shattered clay on the floor, my voice calm:

"Initiate the asset divestment procedure in three days."

"All supplementary credit cards under Ethan's name will be frozen in three days."

The lawyer on the other end gasped:

"Ms. Scarlett, have you finally decided?"

I pulled at the corner of my mouth, blood seeping through the tissue.

"Yes."

I coldly watched Ethan's departing taillights outside the floor-to-ceiling window.

I sat amidst the wreckage, watching Ethan's taillights disappear into the night.

The wound on my face was still bleeding, dripping onto the smashed clay figurine.

He had molded it bit by bit during the year I suffered from severe depression.

He said, "Scarlett, even if it breaks, I can put you back together."

But now, he was the one who had shattered me.

I didn't call an ambulance. I just grabbed a random bandage and pressed it to my face.

Ignoring the searing pain, I painstakingly picked up the fragments of the figurine.

Tiny shards of glass dug into my fingertips; the pain was intense, but it was nothing compared to the agony in my chest.

At three in the morning, Ethan's call came in.

I thought he'd at least ask about my injuries.

But the moment I answered, his irritated voice barraged me:

"Have you made enough of a scene? Chloe's heart condition flared up because your crazy act scared her tonight!"

"You need to move out first thing tomorrow morning and clear out the master bedroom. I'm bringing her back to rest."

I clutched my phone tightly, my knuckles white:

"Ethan, that's our home."

"It's just a place to live!"

"I was there for you during your darkest days, when you wanted to die. Now you're unwilling to even give up a room?"

"Scarlett, what is your heart made of? How can you be so cold-blooded!"

"Beepbeep"

The call was mercilessly cut off.

The next morning, I was still running a low fever when the front door was unlocked.

Ethan walked in brazenly with Chloe.

Chloe wasn't just wearing my haute couture wedding dress.

She even had the pearl necklace my grandmother left me around her neck.

"What are you still doing standing here?"

Ethan frowned, directing the movers to unceremoniously throw my suitcases out the door.

"Chloe can't stand the smell of your perfumes. I had everything of yours thrown out."

I abruptly stood up, my gaze fixed on the necklace around Chloe's neck:

"Take that off your neck."

That was the last memento my grandmother left me.

Chloe instinctively covered her neck, tears instantly flowing:

"Ethan, this was your calming gift to me last night, I"

"Scarlett! Don't push your luck!"

Ethan shielded her, his eyes filled with disgust.

"It's just a cheap necklace. I've been through so much with you, what's wrong with giving Chloe a necklace to make her happy?"

"That's my grandmother's heirloom!"

I screamed, my eyes burning red.

I rushed forward a few steps and grabbed Chloe's collar.

"Slap!"

I didn't hesitate, raising my hand and delivering a brutal slap across Chloe's face!

The crisp sound of the slap echoed through the living room.

Chloe shrieked, covering her face and falling to the floor.

That slap made my palm tingle.

If talking reason failed, I would use the most direct method.

But my hand hadn't even dropped when Ethan's eyes instantly turned red.

He lunged forward, returning an even harder slap that snapped across my face!

"Scarlett, how dare you hit her?!"

I was already feverish, and the blow made me lose my balance, sending me crashing against the doorframe.

The wound that had just clotted last night tore open again, blood trickling down my chin onto my sweater.

I froze. In all our time together.

This was the first time he had laid a hand on me.

It felt like a knife had been plunged into my heart.

I tasted the strong metallic tang of blood in my mouth, and my ears rang.

Ethan looked at the blood on my face, his fingers stiff for a moment.

He let go, as if he'd touched something foul, and disgustedly wiped his hands.

Then he turned, cradling Chloe in his arms with a pained expression.

"Get out. Don't show your face to Chloe again until you learn how to act like a decent human being."

"Bang!"

The security door slammed shut in front of me.

Cold rain lashed mercilessly against my thin clothes.

I was soaked, blood from my face mixing with rainwater as it streamed down.

I coldly stared at the closed door, then pulled out my phone.

I dialed the number of a secondhand salvage company.

"Hello, Villa 3, smash and haul away all the valuable furniture, appliances, and all that junk high-end men's clothing in the walk-in closet."

"Yes, anything I paid for, smash it all and take it. Don't leave a single piece!"

I hung up, then turned and walked into the rain.

Less than twenty minutes later, four trucks pulled up to the villa.

Dozens of workers, armed with sledgehammers and crowbars, jumped out.

The foreman ran up to me, pausing at the sight of my blood-streaked face:

"Boss, is this the place?"

I pointed at the door, my voice cold and flat:

"Break it open."

"All the valuable furniture and appliances inside, and the men's high-end clothing in the walk-in closetanything I paid for, smash it all and drag it out, not a single piece left!"

"Got it!"

With a massive crash, the door was broken open by a sledgehammer.

Chloe's scream instantly echoed from inside the villa.

I walked back into the house step by step, cold rainwater dripping from my clothes, forming puddles on the floor.

In the living room, the workers had already started.

A million-dollar imported leather sofa was ripped to shreds by sharp blades.

The crystal chandelier crashed to the floor, sending shattered glass everywhere.

Ethan clutched Chloe tightly, his eyes bloodshot as he roared at me:

"Scarlett! Are you insane?! How dare you trespass!"

"Trespass?"

I looked at him coldly.

"Ethan, I paid the down payment for this villa, and I chose every piece of furniture here."

"Things I bought with my own money, I'm disgusted by them, so I'm smashing them for the noise. Are you going to call the police on me?"

Several workers had already rushed into the walk-in closet.

They threw all of Ethan's custom suits and rare sneakers into the muddy water and stomped on them.

Ethan watched his meticulously maintained image being mercilessly trampled, trembling with rage.

He lunged at me:

"Scarlett, you're just flaunting your dirty money!"

"When we were at our lowest during the startup, I lived with you in a leaky basement and ate moldy bread!"

"Are you going to be so ruthless over these material possessions?!"

There it was again.

That line, his golden ticket, the one that moved him to tears.

"Ethan, how dare you even mention the basement?"

Ethan flinched, stepping back.

His face instantly went pale, his lips trembling, unable to utter a word.

I ignored him, walking straight to Chloe, who was paralyzed with fear on the floor.

Chloe instinctively recoiled.

Her hands clamped tightly over the pearl necklace on her neck:

"Scarlett please don't hit me I'll take it off, I'll take off the wedding dress right away"

"Too late. Anything you've worn, I find disgusting."

I bent down, my eyes icy.

"Give me back the necklace."

Chloe was crying uncontrollably, looking to Ethan for help.

Ethan tried to step forward, but two workers with crowbars subtly blocked his way.

"You won't give it to me?"

I sneered, suddenly reaching out and grabbing the pearl necklace, pulling hard!

The fragile string snapped instantly.

The pearls scattered across the floor like my seven years of devotion, wasted on a dog.

This was the last memento my grandmother left me.

Now, it was completely destroyed.

My heart felt like it was being torn apart by bare hands.

The pain made my breathing tremble.

But I swallowed it, not letting a single tear fall.

"Scarlett, you're going too far!"

Ethan looked at the utter chaos, finally losing his temper.

"Smash it all."

I turned around, walking step by step into the curtain of rain.

"Smash everything. Let's make some noise for Mr. Ethan and Ms. Chloe."

Behind me, Chloe's hysterical cries erupted.

"Scarlett! Scarlett, wait!"