13
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Seven months into my New Zealand life, a call came fr
a friend back home. I’d built a comfortable life with the money from Liam’s shares. I bought a building in Manhattan – my private quarters on the upper floors, a flower shop on the ground floor, and a boutique on the second. My days were spent tending my balcony garden, sipping coffee, and reading the news.
I took a sip of coffee, grimacing. Even after all..?
bitterness was hard to swallow. I set down the cup and answered the phone.
My friend’s call was mostly about Liam and Chloe. After Liam discovered my departure and the revelation of his affair, things had imploded. Chloe had a miscarriage, and Liam was beaten up by my uncle and aunt. The Sterling family tried to cover it up, but the story spread like wildfire.
The scandal was enormous. Liam was stripped of his CEO title by the reclusive patriarch, Sterling Sr., and his assets were seized. The family discovered that he’d transferred all his shares to me, which I’d sold to their competitors. The Sterling family had to repurchase the shares at a hugely inflated price, suffering billions in losses and a significant blow to their reputation. Liam would have been disowned if not for his mother’s pleas. She gave him a portion of her shares.
Liam, now idle and broken, drank heavily, clutchin
photos and murmuring my name.
Chloe, ostracized by her family and fired from her magazine job, had nowhere to turn but Liam. He was uninterested, and the Sterling family wouldn’t accept her. Desperate, she climbed onto a hospital rooftop, demanding money. The Sterling family refused, so Liam paid her off. She tried to drug him again, but this time he was alert and sent her to prison.
I felt nothing. Liam and Chloe were strangers to me now. After a brief conversation, I hung up, stretched, and went to my room. eyes. But my own experiences The next day, I went to the opera with some new friends. The tragic love story brought tears to the audience’s had made me immune to such melodrama. The lovers in the opera, despite war and family feuds, found each other in their old age. My own “happily ever after” had ended in betrayal. My trust in love was shattered.
Later, at a restaurant, a handsome man asked me out. I reacted with the cold detachment of a robot. Despite his charming advances, I refused. He persisted, wanting to know why.
I paused, then smiled faintly.
“I don’t want a relationship, and I’ll never marry again.”
He left, dejected. My friends, raised in New Zealand with more open–minded views on relationships, were surprised. “Serenity, you’re so heartless!”
“You turned down such a great guy!”
They believed in trying things out and breaking up if it didn’t work.
My eyes remained calm, but a small smile played on my lips.
“It’s not heartlessness, it’s a lack of interest.”
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