I Was His Wife for 8 Years, He Paid Me Like a Maid Chapter 03
Second month of our personal styling class, Naomi asked everyone to bring one meaningful item.
Aria brought her grandmother’s pearls.
I brought an old gold bracelet. The first thing Damon ever gave me.
But before class even started, Gemma and Vivian showed up.
The Ashfords had sponsored this term. They were there to select student assistants for a charity gala.
Gemma spotted the bracelet and laughed out loud. “You still have that thing?”
She told the whole class the story.
When Damon was chasing me, he’d placed a handmade wooden box and this gold bracelet in front of me
and told me to choose one.
The box had taken him two months to make.
I barely glanced at it before taking the gold.
From that day on, everyone in the Ashford family knew I wasn’t after Damon.
I was after his money.
Gemma told it well. A few people laughed.
I pressed my lips together and gripped the bracelet.
Damon had put the wooden box away that day.
The next morning, he had Vivian deliver a thick contract.
He’d called me and asked, “You want money, right?”
I said yes.
I’d thought married couples shared finances anyway.
I’d been naive enough to think he actually wanted a life with me.
Turns out, he thought I was naming my price.
Vivian added coolly, “Miss Sterling has always known exactly what she wants.”
I panicked, afraid everyone would think I was greedy. “Where I’m from, when a man proposes, he gives gold.”
“My mother always said if he’s willing to give you the wedding set, it means he wants a real future with you. I thought he was asking if I’d marry him.”
The laughter in the room faded.
Staring at the scratches on the bracelet, I realized we’d gotten lost that day a long time ago.
I’d spent eight years thinking I was his wife.
He’d spent eight years thinking I’d simply chosen the more expensive gift.
After class, Naomi asked if the five thousand a month was real.
I nodded. Then, out of habit, I defended Damon. “He works a lot. He doesn’t realize how expensive it is to run a household now.”
Naomi pulled my sleeve down, covering the scrapes from moving flower stands. “Sloane, being honest doesn’t mean letting other people do your accounting for you.”
She connected me with event florist work. Eight hundred a night.
I split every payment into three envelopes: Grandma’s medication, Lily’s school fees, and my parents.
My mom called last week and said Dad’s back hurt so much he couldn’t get out of bed, but he refused to see
a doctor.
I sent two thousand and lied that it was from Damon.
That way she’d accept it without worry. And she’d think I was doing well.
When I got back to the penthouse that night, Damon was there.
Lily was slumped at the table, barely keeping her eyes open, refusing to sleep until her father came home.
Damon carried her to her room.
When he came out, he noticed the hole worn through the toe of her shoes.
His brow furrowed.
“Why haven’t you bought her new ones?”
I wiped my hands on my apron nervously.
“This month’s money-”
“Didn’t I tell you to call Vivian if you needed anything?”
His tone wasn’t harsh. Just tired.
I looked at the dark circles under his eyes and felt like bringing up money right now made me a burden.
I made him a simple noodle soup. No scallions, the way he liked. His stomach medication placed on the
right side.
He noticed the bandages on my hands. “You’re still working at the hotel?”
“Grandma’s medication got expensive. I wanted to earn a little more.”
Damon looked at me like he didn’t understand. His phone buzzed.
Vivian said something on the other end. His expression went cold again.
“If you want money, just say so. Don’t use Grandma as an excuse. And stop going to the hotel at night.”
I held the bowl. The heat from the ceramic burned my palms, but I forgot to let go.
So that moment of concern earlier wasn’t trust. He just thought I’d found another way to ask for money.
He flew to San Francisco the next morning.
Vivian transferred five thousand with a note. [Mr. Ashford says learn to budget. Stop embarrassing him in
public.]
I stared at that message for a long time. Then I replied, [thank you.]
At least Lily would get new shoes.
At least Grandma wouldn’t have to skip her medication.
I’d just finished sorting the money into envelopes when my mom called.
Through tears, she told me Dad had been diagnosed with a tumor at the county hospital.
The surgery deposit was three hundred thousand.
The envelopes slipped from my hands and hit the floor.
A few thousand dollars made no sound when it landed. It barely weighed more than air.
