It’s been a couple of weeks and I have moved in with Antonio. I’ve been beside myself. Who would have ever thought I’d be engaged—to anyone—let alone Antonio Michaels?

It was hard, but I finally admitted that I love him, doing so the day he proposed, and every day since. Love has been something difficult for me to embrace. It’s hard for me to trust that someone loves me since my own parents abandoned me as a child. Likewise, it’s hard for me to accept love, too afraid to trust anyone could ever love me.

But thanks to Antonio, that’s all changed now. And like all brides-to-be, I’ve been perusing bridal magazines, searching for the perfect dress. The date hasn’t been officially set yet; Antonio has left that up to me. Stacy and Emma are going nuts, both excitedly helping me decide on where to hold the ceremony.

“How about a destination wedding? Bermuda…on the beach.” Emma beams.

“No. What about something intimate, like at home?” suggests Stacy.

The two both shout, “I’ve got it!” at the same time, once again sounding like they are the same person, as they both grin through the screen via FaceTime.

I laugh. “Calm down, you two. And hold that thought until another time. I’ve gotta get off this call. I’ve been lounging around too much today. Antonio and I have a dinner date later.”

“Oh, okay. Have lots of fun, D!”

“Yeah, what she said. And just call us later,” says Stacy.

I clean off my desk; papers are scattered about since I’ve been working from home today. Antonio had meetings and I didn’t want to attend.

I shower and pick out a cute black dress to wear with the pink high-heeled strappy stilettos that I wore the day Antonio and I bumped into each other on the Metro.

The TV blares in the background and as I’m just about to blow-dry my hair, I hear Antonio’s name mentioned on the TV.

Curious, I walk out of the bathroom and then stare at the 55-inch screen of the TV that hangs over the fireplace in the bedroom.

TMZ has just come on and they are leading with a story about Antonio.

CraveMe CEO, Antonio Michaels, was spotted a couple of weeks ago shopping for an engagement ring. Could it be because his 30th birthday is quickly approaching and he needs to get married by then, in order to keep his hefty inheritance?

Shock riddles through my body and I suddenly feel cold.

I ease onto the edge of the bed and try to swallow the thick lump now lodged in my throat.

What. The. Fuck.

What do they mean he needs to get married by the time he turns thirty or he loses his inheritance?

He’s never mentioned any of this to me before.

Can it be true? If it is, does this mean he’s using me to keep his fucking inheritance?

My phone buzzes. It’s Stacy.

Ugh. I don’t really want to talk right now.

I roll my eyes. “Hey,” I say, my eyes still glued to the TV.

“Are you watching TMZ?”

“Yeah,” I say, barely able to speak intelligently.

“I figured. Hun, don’t believe what you see on their report. You know firsthand how sometimes these shows spin the truth.”

I feel tears well up and my heart speeds up. “Yeah, but Stacy…suppose it is true?”

“Even if it’s true, that doesn’t mean what I’m sure I guess you’re thinking. He’s not using you to keep the money. I know he loves you. Anyone who’s seen him look at you knows that.”

Love can never be trusted.

“Right. Well, I’m gonna go now, Stacy. I’ll call you later.”

I feel sick to my stomach.

“Promise you’ll call later?”

“Yeah. I promise.”

I wipe the tear that’s managed to trickle its way down my cheek and I feel my heart rate speed up as I spiral into a panic.

You can’t get your emotions in a bunch without knowing for sure if it’s true.

I decide to call Antonio. Confront him. Hopefully he’s done with his meeting. And as his phone rings, I feel a weird combination of butterflies and nausea all at once.

He answers, “Daniella, baby, have you seen TM—”

I readily interrupt as I pace the bedroom floor. “Is it true?” I ask, my voice subdued.

“Baby, I can explain,” he begins and that’s all I need to hear.

It’s true.

I hang up and the floodgate of tears emerges.

I knew it.

No such thing as love.

Who would love me anyway?

Unworthy. Unwanted. Daniella.

Should have stuck to swearing off men. I sure wouldn’t be here. Faced with this bullshit.

I grab a suitcase, pack up whatever I can fit into it, throw on jeans and a shirt and leave, without looking back.

Destination: who the fuck knows—just far away from the crap-fest of I love you lies.

* * *

It’s been a few hours, I guess. Maybe more. I’ve been in the same spot for I don’t know how long since I checked into this hotel, walked into the room, and crashed onto the bed.

My phone is off. I don’t want to speak to anyone. Yet now that I think about it, at least I should text Emma and Stacy.

And as soon as I power my phone back on, I see there are twenty calls from Antonio, along with at least the same amount of text messages, which I ignore, and voicemails, which I don’t listen to.

Leave me alone, liar.

I text Stacy to let her know I’m safe.

Stacy: Okay. Glad you’re safe, babe, but I’m worried about you. Antonio has been here looking for you. He doesn’t look good.

Me: He’s probably more upset about the fact he may indeed lose his inheritance.

Stacy: I’m not too sure about that. He really looked torn.

Whatever.

Me: I just wanted to tell you I’m safe. Please let Emma know, too.

Stacy: What are you going to do, love?

Me: I’ll figure it out in the morning. But for now, I just want to sleep. I’m turning my phone off. I don’t want him to keep calling me. I’ll call you tomorrow. Love ya.

Stacy: Love ya, too.

* * *

Sleeping with a broken heart is entirely pointless. I hardly recommend trying it.

I force myself out of bed, and once I’m in the bathroom, wipe my eyes free of tears, only to make room for more.

How could he do this to me?

I practically poured my fucking soul out to him—shared how hurt I was. He ate it up and tricked me into falling in love with him so he could reel me into some fake, I got to keep my inheritance, marriage.

It’s true. The beautiful ones hurt you every single time.

But no more.

This is the last time I ever waste loving anyone.