A few months later, during the grand opening of my fourth location, I noticed someone standing awkwardly near the jewelry display. It was Chloe. She looked smaller somehow—less glamorous, more grounded.
“I’m not here to cause trouble,” she said quietly. “I just wanted to apologize. I believed everything he told me. And when things fell apart… he blamed you for everything. Even stuff that happened years before you two met.”
I studied her. She couldn’t have been more than twenty-two now. Practically a kid when she’d been pulled into Eric’s chaos.
“What made you leave?” I asked.
She gave a humorless laugh. “He tried to move into my studio apartment after you froze the accounts. Complained about the size of my closet. Asked if I could get a loan for a ‘bridge period.’ That’s when I realized he never wanted a partner. He wanted a lifeboat.”
I nodded. “Escapes aren’t dreams. They just feel like it at first.”
She smiled faintly. “I’m dating someone my age now. We’re broke, but we’re building something real. Thanks for showing me what not to fall for.”
She bought a small purse and left. For the first time, I felt no bitterness—only closure.
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