Paid to Disappear on His Proposal Night - Chapter 3: Chapter 3
You are reading Paid to Disappear on His Proposal Night, Chapter 3: Chapter 3. Read more chapters of Paid to Disappear on His Proposal Night.
Darryl's hand clamped around my arm, shoving me toward the door, but I yanked myself free. "This is my house! If anyone's leaving, it's you two."
He crossed his arms and barked out a laugh, like I'd just told the funniest joke in the world. "Your house? Give me a break, June. This place is rented. Your classmate's cousin owns it—what's that got to do with you?"
I squared my shoulders, defiance burning in my chest. "I only said that to spare your pride! I bought this place myself and had my friend pretend to be the landlord so you wouldn't feel like some charity case. Did you really think you'd get an apartment like this for a lousy thousand bucks a month?"
"Enough!" Darryl's voice boomed, loud enough to shake the walls. "If it's yours, prove it. Show me the deed, and I'll walk. Otherwise, shut up and get out."
His words hit like a slap. My fists clenched, nails biting into my palms. "The deed's at my parents' house," I ground out.
He rolled his eyes, sarcasm oozing from every word. "How convenient. Then go get it. I'm done with your bullshit."
Before I could react, his grip locked around my wrist, dragging me toward the door. I barely had time to struggle before the slam of the door echoed behind me.
Rubbing the angry red marks on my arm, I sucked in a shaky breath and turned away.
By the time I reached my parents' house, it was late. Golden light spilled from the living room windows, the faint murmur of the TV drifting onto the porch. When I stepped inside, Mom looked up, surprise flickering across her face. "Honey," she said carefully, "I thought Darryl was proposing tonight. Why are you here alone?"
The words lodged in my throat. My chest ached, eyes burning with tears I'd been holding back all night. Earlier, I'd rushed over, giddy, telling them Darryl was probably planning some grand proposal—promising to bring him by afterward so they could finally meet him properly.
Now, all I could see was him on one knee, ring in hand—for Courtney. The dam broke. I crumpled onto the couch, burying my face in Mom's shoulder. "He proposed… just not to me," I choked out. "We're done, Mom. I don't want him anymore."
She stiffened. "What? But you two were—oh, baby." Her hand rubbed slow circles on my back. "It's okay. He's just one guy. If he's too blind to see how amazing you are, he doesn't deserve you. You'll find someone better, I promise."
Meanwhile, Dad shot up from his chair, face flushed with rage. "Where is that little bastard? Take me to him. Now."
I shook my head, forcing a weak smile. "I don't want that. Right now, I just need… food. Do we have any?"
Eating had always been my comfort—the band-aid for every heartache.
Dad's anger flickered, then softened. Muttering under his breath, he headed for the kitchen. "There's crab meat buns in the fridge. Your favorite. I'll heat 'em up."
Tears welled up all over again.
Funny how those buns were part of what drove Darryl and me apart in the first place.
We'd met junior year. He was hosting some campus event, and damn, he was gorgeous. Me? Hopeless romantic. I chased him for three months before he finally caved.
My parents didn't object—just one rule: Don't tell him about the money until it's serious.
Back then, it pissed me off. Felt snobby, especially since our family owned a chain of high-end restaurants where a single dish cost more than most people's grocery bill.
Darryl? Small-town guy. Worked his way through school. I admired that.
I was sure he loved me—rich or poor.
He crossed his arms and barked out a laugh, like I'd just told the funniest joke in the world. "Your house? Give me a break, June. This place is rented. Your classmate's cousin owns it—what's that got to do with you?"
I squared my shoulders, defiance burning in my chest. "I only said that to spare your pride! I bought this place myself and had my friend pretend to be the landlord so you wouldn't feel like some charity case. Did you really think you'd get an apartment like this for a lousy thousand bucks a month?"
"Enough!" Darryl's voice boomed, loud enough to shake the walls. "If it's yours, prove it. Show me the deed, and I'll walk. Otherwise, shut up and get out."
His words hit like a slap. My fists clenched, nails biting into my palms. "The deed's at my parents' house," I ground out.
He rolled his eyes, sarcasm oozing from every word. "How convenient. Then go get it. I'm done with your bullshit."
Before I could react, his grip locked around my wrist, dragging me toward the door. I barely had time to struggle before the slam of the door echoed behind me.
Rubbing the angry red marks on my arm, I sucked in a shaky breath and turned away.
By the time I reached my parents' house, it was late. Golden light spilled from the living room windows, the faint murmur of the TV drifting onto the porch. When I stepped inside, Mom looked up, surprise flickering across her face. "Honey," she said carefully, "I thought Darryl was proposing tonight. Why are you here alone?"
The words lodged in my throat. My chest ached, eyes burning with tears I'd been holding back all night. Earlier, I'd rushed over, giddy, telling them Darryl was probably planning some grand proposal—promising to bring him by afterward so they could finally meet him properly.
Now, all I could see was him on one knee, ring in hand—for Courtney. The dam broke. I crumpled onto the couch, burying my face in Mom's shoulder. "He proposed… just not to me," I choked out. "We're done, Mom. I don't want him anymore."
She stiffened. "What? But you two were—oh, baby." Her hand rubbed slow circles on my back. "It's okay. He's just one guy. If he's too blind to see how amazing you are, he doesn't deserve you. You'll find someone better, I promise."
Meanwhile, Dad shot up from his chair, face flushed with rage. "Where is that little bastard? Take me to him. Now."
I shook my head, forcing a weak smile. "I don't want that. Right now, I just need… food. Do we have any?"
Eating had always been my comfort—the band-aid for every heartache.
Dad's anger flickered, then softened. Muttering under his breath, he headed for the kitchen. "There's crab meat buns in the fridge. Your favorite. I'll heat 'em up."
Tears welled up all over again.
Funny how those buns were part of what drove Darryl and me apart in the first place.
We'd met junior year. He was hosting some campus event, and damn, he was gorgeous. Me? Hopeless romantic. I chased him for three months before he finally caved.
My parents didn't object—just one rule: Don't tell him about the money until it's serious.
Back then, it pissed me off. Felt snobby, especially since our family owned a chain of high-end restaurants where a single dish cost more than most people's grocery bill.
Darryl? Small-town guy. Worked his way through school. I admired that.
I was sure he loved me—rich or poor.
End of Paid to Disappear on His Proposal Night Chapter 3. Continue reading Chapter 4 or return to Paid to Disappear on His Proposal Night book page.