The Thirty Million Dollar Goodbye

Of all the women Ethan Hayes ever dated, I was the good one.

But in bed, I was the wild one.

He hated condoms, so I never kept them in my nightstand. He complained I was too reserved, so I learned every trick in the book.

His friends would talk, their voices a low murmur of expensive whiskey and disbelief.

“I don’t get it. Audrey seems so… vanilla. And you’re saying behind closed doors she’s a total freak?”

“Ethan, my man, going raw is one hell of a rush, but what if she gets pregnant? She’ll lock you down with a kid before you can even call your lawyer.”

Ethan would just take a slow drag from his cigarette, a smirk playing on his lips. “She wouldn’t dare.”

He’d exhale a plume of smoke. “Her family’s old-school conservative. And the Hayes family would never, ever accept a child born out of wedlock.”

And he was right.

A good girl would never do something as disgraceful as getting pregnant before marriage.

Which is why, before we ever touched, I always made sure Ethan took his pill.

1

I’ll admit, male birth control isn’t exactly easy to get your hands on. I had to pull a few strings, calling in a major favor from my best friend.

Zoe told me the drug was incredibly effective.

But she also warned me that long-term use could cause irreversible damage to a man’s sexual function.

She shot me a worried look over her wine glass.

“Audrey, if you’re really that concerned about your man’s… equipment… my firm is developing a new version with fewer side effects. It’s just not out of trials yet.”

I offered her a tight smile and promised I’d wait. “Okay.”

What I was really thinking was: What the hell do I care about Ethan Hayes’s equipment?

The alternative was me, alone in a sterile clinic, waiting for an abortion. The thought of it was too bleak to bear.

And since Zoe’s miracle drug was stuck in development, I kept using the one I had. For six months.

Every time, just before things got heated, I’d tell Ethan it was a vitamin, watching him swallow it with a glass of water before I’d let him unbutton my shirt.

I’ll give him this: he was right about one thing.

Without that thin layer of latex, the feeling was infinitely better.

He got his pleasure.

And I, bearing none of the risk, got even more.

Ethan was, in his own way, a fool. He genuinely believed I was so hopelessly in love with him that I’d do anything he asked. As a reward for my devotion, he’d shower me with lavish gifts afterward.

A Patek Philippe watch one week.

A Cartier diamond necklace the next, followed by a brand-new Porsche.

Anything I could sell, I sold the very next day, funneling the money into a diversified investment portfolio.

Of course, to keep up appearances, I bought flawless replicas to store in my closet.

He never paid attention to the details. He never noticed a thing.

Back in the VIP lounge, the conversation was still flowing.

“Seriously, man. You’ve had her on a string for years. Aren’t you ever going to make it official?”

“Come on, you know the deal. Audrey’s got a clean background, but she’s not exactly in the same league as the Hayes family.”

Then one of his drunker, more obnoxious friends piped up, his words slurring.

“Hey, Ethan, when you get tired of her… you mind if I take a turn?”

He leered. “Audrey’s got that innocent look but a killer body. I’d kill to get a piece of that. Bet she’s absolutely filthy in bed.”

A sudden, sharp silence fell over the table. The air crackled.

The guy who’d just spoken seemed to sober up instantly, his face paling.

He started stammering, practically slapping himself.

“Shit, man, I’m sorry. I’m drunk. I was just talking shit. Don’t take it seriously.”

Ethan let out a low, ambiguous chuckle. He took a sip of his Macallan, and his reply caught everyone off guard. “Sure, you can have her. But Audrey only has eyes for me. I doubt she’d even look your way.”

The tension shattered.

The lounge filled with laughter and back-slapping again.

His friends fell over themselves complimenting him—Ethan Hayes, the powerful, handsome genius that women would kill to be with. It was only natural that I was madly in love with him.

Standing just outside the velvet rope, I ran a hand through my hair.

Then, my heels clicking on the marble floor, I pushed through the entrance.

The motion caught their attention.

Every head turned. When they saw it was me, the chatter died instantly.

I pretended not to notice, a bright smile fixed on my face as I walked toward their table. “What are we all talking about?”

One of them recovered first, shifting awkwardly.

“Audrey. Hey. How long have you been here?”

I slid into the plush leather booth next to Ethan, wrapping my arm around his. My smile was pure poison. “Oh, about five minutes. Was just touching up my lipstick by the door.”

The color drained from their faces. No one dared to speak.

I pulled my long hair back into a ponytail. Without a word, I reached across the table, grabbed a bottle of champagne, and calmly began to pour it over the heads of the two men who had been the most vocal.

They were too afraid of Ethan to even flinch.

When the bottle was empty, no one said a thing.

One by one, they mumbled excuses about early meetings and unfinished work, scattering from the lounge like cockroaches.

Ethan leaned back against the leather, his expression unreadable. His voice was flat. “Are you done?”

2

He thought I was just throwing a tantrum.

I suppose that made sense.

In Ethan’s world, I was a pet. A perfectly trained, beautiful creature that came when called and purred on command.

A pet that, without its owner, would be lost and starving on the streets.

I found a seat across from him and said nothing.

A second later, his phone buzzed.

I couldn’t hear the voice on the other end, but I saw the change in his posture.

Ethan stood up abruptly, his voice softening as he headed for the exit. “Stay right there. I’m on my way.”

The tone was gentle, soothing.

After he hung up, he was already at the door when he seemed to remember I was still there.

He glanced back, his face a blank mask.

“You’ve been taking your pills, right?”

Ah.

So that was it. He was still worried I might try to trap him.

What Ethan Hayes would never know was that while I was willing to play with a man like him, I would never, ever be foolish enough to carry his child.

So I smiled and nodded, giving him the answer he wanted. “Of course.”

He left without another word.

I let out a long, slow breath. A moment later, my own phone rang.

It was Zoe.

“Audrey, something came up at work. I can’t get away. Can you swing by the clinic and pick up your prescription yourself?”

I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. “Yeah, no problem.”

Just before I hung up, a thought occurred to me.

“Zoe? You don’t have to get these for me anymore.”

There was a pause on the other end, then her voice, laced with frustration. “Don’t tell me you’re actually thinking of having a baby with him. Audrey, for God’s sake, get a grip.”

A real smile touched my lips this time.

“No. It’s not that.”

Two days ago, my acceptance letter from NYU’s graduate program had arrived.

It was time for me to go back and finish my education.

Besides, after two years of playing the part, I had skimmed over thirty million dollars from Ethan Hayes. It was time to cash out and walk away.

I’d just picked up the pills from the pharmacy inside the hospital when I turned a corner and ran straight into him.

A delicate, beautiful girl was leaning against his chest.

When Ethan stopped short, she looked up at him, her voice a sweet, childish pout. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer her.

His eyes scanned over me, then landed on the small paper bag in my hand. From his angle, he could clearly read the prescription label: Contraceptive.

A flicker of something—maybe guilt—crossed his face.

Ethan’s brow furrowed. In a rare moment of concern, he actually said, “You should take less of that stuff. It’s not good for you.”

I offered him a bland, pleasant smile.

“Okay.”

I didn’t let on that I knew him, and the girl in his arms was clearly clueless.

But Ethan’s brief moment of attention had set off her alarms.

The girl stepped forward possessively, extending a manicured hand toward me. Her smile was sharp. “Hi, I’m Amelia. Ethan’s girlfriend.”

I let those last three words sink in.

Girlfriend?

Then what was I?

But Ethan gave me a subtle, warning look. I took the hint and shook her hand.

“Audrey. I’ve met Mr. Hayes a few times.”

Amelia visibly relaxed, her smile becoming genuine.

She laughed, a light, tinkling sound.

“This one here has been running me ragged,” she said, playfully swatting his arm. “My period is late, so we just wanted to come in and get it checked out.”

She looked at me expectantly. “What about you, Audrey? What brings you here?”

I was about to invent a story when she cut me off, her eyes widening in realization.

“Oh, you’re here for birth control, aren’t you? God, your boyfriend is such an ass. Why doesn’t he just wear a condom? Those pills are so bad for your body.”

She shook her head, full of sympathy. “Listen, Audrey, if you can’t get him to listen, you let me know. I’ll have a word with him for you. A man who really loves you would never, ever want to see you get hurt.”

3

My eyelashes fluttered. I opened my mouth, intending to say, “Okay.”

But no sound came out.

By the time I came back to myself, Ethan had his arm around Amelia’s shoulders, leading her down the opposite end of the hall.

She waved back at me over her shoulder.

“Bye, Audrey! It was nice meeting you!”

I stood there for another minute before turning and heading toward the underground parking garage.

The light inside the car was dim.

My hands rested on the smooth leather of the Porsche’s steering wheel, but I didn’t start the engine.

Maybe I wasn’t as calm as I was pretending to be.

And maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t completely devoid of feelings for Ethan.

After all, he was the one who had saved me during the darkest, most desperate year of my life.

My family wasn’t poor. Far from it. My parents were both well-respected high school teachers. They provided for all my material needs, giving me everything a child could want.

But it came with a price.

Their desire for control was a suffocating, toxic cloud that poisoned our home.

The year I turned eighteen, they found out I’d been accepted to my dream school, NYU. To stop me from moving to the city, they went into my application portal and changed my commitment to the local state university.

When I graduated four years later, I fought tooth and nail to land a prestigious job offer in New York. They went behind my back and declined it for me.

They kept telling me it was for my own good.

They spent a small fortune to get me a stable, low-paying government job in my hometown.

I never showed up for the first day.

It was the first time I had ever rebelled.

With the ten thousand dollars I had saved up, I bought a one-way train ticket to New York.

I went straight to the NYU campus and just walked around.

It was on my way out that I met him. Ethan Hayes.

I suppose it was because I was pretty. I caught his eye easily.

He offered to help me find a job.

He introduced me to a life I never could have imagined.

Ethan taught me how to skydive, how to rock climb, how to scuba dive. He pushed me to try every extreme sport my parents had ever forbidden.

We kissed and held hands and stayed up all night talking. We did things that felt thrilling and new.

For the first time in my life, I felt a sense of unrestrained, intoxicating freedom.

And I knew, with absolute certainty, that I was falling for him.

I liked Ethan Hayes.

But that secret, hidden love, blooming in the corners of my heart, became its own form of torture.

It takes a long time to decide to stop loving someone.

It takes even longer to actually leave.

It took me six months.

I have to admit, I’ve always been indecisive. It’s a flaw in my character. Otherwise, I never would have let my parents control me for twenty-two years.

And besides that, Ethan was impossibly handsome and unbelievably rich.

The crumbs he dropped from his table had already made me a wealthy woman, with enough money to live comfortably for the rest of my life.

Thinking about that, a sense of calm washed over me.

So I had lost a great love.

But I had gained a cold, hard thirty million dollars.

Ethan came home late that night.

It was the weekend, so I’d given myself a break, curled up on the sofa watching some terrible reality TV show.

One of the characters on screen dramatically declared: Your boyfriend has a girlfriend!

I looked up just as Ethan walked in. On a whim, I asked, “So, how’s your little girlfriend?”

He rubbed his temples, looking exhausted. His voice was heavy.

“Audrey, you’re starting to misbehave.”

I knew when to shut up.

Ethan hated complications. The only reason he’d kept me around for so long was because I was easy. I was obedient.

I bit my lip. “I drew a bath for you,” I said quietly.

He disappeared into the master bathroom.

My interest in the show had vanished. I went to the bedroom to sleep.

I was drifting in that space between sleep and waking when a hot, heavy hand clamped onto my waist. The man behind me began to explore my body, his touch familiar and demanding.

4

I shifted, trying to push him away.

But Ethan was patient, his voice a low murmur against my ear.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ll wear a condom.”

He whispered, “You don’t have to take those pills anymore.”

For a second, I was wide awake.

Was this his conscience finally kicking in?

But I wasn’t the one taking the pills. And him wearing a condom would only ruin the experience for me.

I was just about to launch into a self-sacrificing speech, something designed to tug at his heartstrings and maybe squeeze a larger severance package out of him when we finally broke up.

But then his phone rang.

It was on the nightstand, so close in the silent room that I could hear every word.

Amelia’s voice, a mixture of excitement and fear.

“Baby, I just took a test… I think it’s positive.”

A pause. “But I’m not sure. Can you… can you come over?”

Ethan’s eyes reflexively darted toward me in the dark.

He looked away just as quickly, his voice softening. “I’m on my way.”

He hung up, and without another look at me, he was gone, leaving a curt, “I won’t be back tonight.”

He didn’t even bother to close the bedroom door.

I muttered a few curses under my breath, rolled over, and tried to go back to sleep.

But sleep wouldn’t come.

No one knew that a long time ago, I had also been pregnant with Ethan’s child.

I was working on a huge project at the time, pulling all-nighters. In the chaos, I forgot to take my pill one night.

I didn’t realize until my body started feeling… different.

In that single moment, my world tilted. I was thrilled and terrified.

After days of agonizing, I decided to tell him. We would decide what to do with the baby, together.

I went to find him in his home office. The door was slightly ajar. He was on the phone, his voice laced with its usual casual indifference.

“Your little bird is pregnant? Just give her some money and tell her to get rid of it. Why are you even asking me about this?”

He listened for a moment. “Are you an idiot, Mark? What does it matter if you feel bad for her? Is your family going to accept an illegitimate child? Get real.”

There was a longer pause. I couldn’t hear the question, but I knew what it was from Ethan’s answer. The question must have been:

What if it was Audrey? What if Audrey got pregnant? Would you keep the baby?

Would he?

Ethan’s voice was flat, devoid of emotion. Cruel.

“No. Audrey is good. I’m very happy with her. But my child will not come from her belly.”

“If she ever got pregnant, I’d give her a generous sum of money, she’d have an abortion, and that would be the end of it.”

Love and marriage.

He had always kept the two completely separate.

I was beautiful, obedient, and I anticipated his every need.

The perfect girlfriend.

But a wife? The partner he would spend his life with? Never.

I stood outside that door and cried without making a sound.

And for the first time, I understood with chilling clarity.

Ethan Hayes did not love me.

After I’d composed myself, I called my office and told them there was a family emergency. I took a week off. I went to the clinic alone.

Every part of my body ached.

But I knew it was the right choice. For me, and for the life that was inside me.

But Amelia was different.

She had the effortless innocence of someone who had been sheltered and adored her whole life.

And the baby in her belly… it was clear Ethan was already fiercely protective of it.

For a fleeting moment, a wave of confusion washed over me.

What had my three years meant?

Drifting in and out of consciousness, I finally fell asleep.

I woke up the next morning at ten.

Ethan hadn't come home.

I picked up my phone, about to send him a fake, concerned text message.

But a new friend request had popped up on my screen.

The profile picture was an adorable kitten.

The message was just three words: Amelia Sinclair.

5

She got straight to the point.

[Audrey, I’ve had you investigated.]

I took a slow sip of my coffee, my eyes fixed on the little “typing…” bubble at the top of the screen. I didn’t reply.

A few seconds later, more messages came through.

[I know you’ve been with Ethan for a while. You’re clever and you have your methods, I get that.]

[But what you probably don’t know is that he and I are getting engaged soon. We come from the same world. If you’re smart, you’ll disappear quietly. Don’t make this ugly for yourself.]

[Because if you do, I won’t be so nice.]

It clicked.

Amelia Sinclair. Of course. She was an heiress.

No wonder Ethan was so attentive. It wasn’t just about affection; it was about her family, her connections, her status.

I put down my mug and typed a reply.

[Ten million.]

She agreed without hesitation.

She asked for my account number and promised the money would be wired within three days.

The only condition was that I was to never, ever be seen by Ethan Hayes again.

I gladly accepted.

After all, I was already planning my exit.

When Ethan finally came back, he had a gift for me.

I opened the box.

Inside was a scandalous red silk nightgown that was more air than fabric, and a matching ruby necklace.

He seemed to be in a good mood. “Go try it on,” he urged. “I want to see if it fits.”

The vibrant red made my skin look like porcelain.

It barely covered the essentials, leaving most of my body exposed to the cool air.

I saw a flash of hunger in Ethan’s eyes, his breath catching for a split second.

I took a steadying breath, my expression serious. “Ethan,” I said softly. “We need to talk.”

He seemed to regain a sliver of his composure.

He nodded, a thoughtful look on his face.

“I have something to tell you, too,” he said.

I nodded obediently.

“Okay. You first.”

After a few seconds of silence, he spoke, choosing his words carefully. “Audrey, if I were to get married… what would you do?”

I might have imagined it, but he looked almost… nervous.

I froze.

What would I do?

I’d take the last of his money and run for the hills, obviously.

But I couldn't say that to his face.

So I squeezed out a couple of fake tears, my voice trembling.

“Are you… leaving me?”

He reached out, his thumb gently brushing a tear from the corner of my eye. A look of genuine pity crossed his face.

“Of course not,” he said, his voice husky. “It’s just… I’ll have to ask you to be patient for a while.”

A wave of carefully orchestrated hysteria washed over me. I started to cry for real.

“I don’t want to be your dirty little secret! I won’t be a mistress!”

He must have thought I was being ungrateful.

That night, Ethan slept in the study. He said he was giving me space to “cool down.”

I couldn’t have been happier.

Lying in bed, aimlessly scrolling through Instagram, I stumbled upon Amelia’s latest post. A picture of her on a pristine white sand beach.

The caption read: What do you do when your boyfriend is too possessive to let you wear a bikini? Help!

I clicked into her profile out of morbid curiosity.

Apparently, her birthday was coming up. Her wish was for her boyfriend to take her on a vacation to the Maldives.

They were leaving tomorrow.

The rest of her post was a gushing tribute to their love.

I guess I can’t complain. He’s only like this because he loves me so much. Besides, a sundress will look just as good in photos~ The first time Ethan and I were together, he was so gentle and sweet, so careful not to hurt me. I remember laughing and asking him what he was going to do since I was so inexperienced, especially since I’d heard he liked more assertive girls. He just smiled and said that if it was me, it didn’t matter what I did. Mom and Dad, at twenty-two, I think I’ve finally found my happily ever after.

6

Someone had commented: Jesus, get a room.

The two of them were now in the middle of a nasty comment war.

But I couldn’t bring myself to read any more.

I thought back to the beginning, to how Ethan used to complain that I was clumsy and awkward in bed.

I didn’t know how to move.

I would blush beet red at the slightest hint of dirty talk.

I could never keep up with him.

He never seemed satisfied.

Ethan didn’t care much about my comfort. He was often rough, and it would hurt.

I would just bite my lip and endure it.

I didn’t know any better. Growing up, the only thing my parents ever said about boys was, “If you even think about dating before college, I’ll break your legs.”

And in college, I was still under their thumb.

The thought of romance had never even crossed my mind.

So when I was suddenly thrown into this world, all I could do was try to adapt, to awkwardly meet his needs.

I learned how to talk dirty.

I learned a whole encyclopedia of bizarre positions.

And every time I showed improvement, he would whisper against my ear, his voice a low rumble, “Good girl.”

Afterward, there would always be an expensive gift waiting for me.

After a while, I made a kind of peace with it.

I learned to find my own pleasure in our encounters, to create a balance that worked for me.

There’s no shame in a woman embracing her own desires.

It was only now that I was realizing.

It was possible to be Ethan Hayes’s girlfriend without having to cater to his every whim.

A rose doesn’t have to grow taller.

The one who loves it will bend down.

Unfortunately for me, I was not his rose.

A salty tear slid from the corner of my eye, tracing a path to my temple.

I suppose… I suppose I was a little sad.

For myself.

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