Love Transferred, Account Closed

On the 999th day of our relationship, Declan Fletcher took a photo of the half-empty cup of my coffee and posted it in the group chat, deducting 20 points from my score. There were only three people in the chat group—me, him, and my cousin Rachel Black. He circled the 28-dollar bill, his tone sounding like he was judging a thief who stole money. Declan: [Sonia Golding, I've said before, splitting the bills 50-50 doesn't mean you get to take advantage of me. If you really want to marry a regular guy, you'd better stop spending money like a gold digger. Declan was my boyfriend for three years. He was also the poor kid I thought was struggling with family debt, a seriously ill mother, and who could not even afford a new shirt. That was why I paid half of the rent, half of the water and electricity bills, and even secretly covered half of the caretaker fee for his mother's hospitalization. He set up a relationship point system for me. One minute late: -5 points. Ordering an expensive dish: -10 points. Expecting a gift on a holiday: -30 points. I spent three years racking up points just to go from 'not marriage material' to 'worth considering'. However, he never once counted the cost when it came to Rachel. If Rachel wanted expensive food, he would treat her. If she wanted to visit an island for Independence Day, he would book two first-class tickets that very night. It was not until today that his driver accidentally delivered a prenuptial agreement to me instead of him that I realized Declan was not penniless. He owned three properties and two companies. The handbags he bought for Rachel cost enough to cover my rent for three years. It turned out that splitting the bill 50-50 was not his principle but a calculated move to filter out the women who genuinely cared. That evening, he transferred 28 dollars to me for drinks. The remark read: [Cover any unnecessary expenses yourself.] I accepted the money and sent him a breakup bill in return. Sonia: [I've lost out over these past three years. I'm done with you.] Chapter 1 When Declan Fletcher saw the breakup bill, he did not panic. Instead, he only posted a new table in the group chat. The words next to my name, 'worth considering', had been changed to 'high-risk gold digger'. The remarks section strikingly read: [Emotionally unstable. Poor spending habits. Prone to asking for things.] Rachel Black was the first to jump in. Rachel: [Sonia, Declan is doing this for your own good too. It's not easy for an ordinary family to make ends meet. If you cause a breakup over a cup of latte, how will you handle the daily necessities in the future?] Declan sent a voice message with a hint of amusement in his tone. "Sonia, you've learned how to keep score now. That's good. At least you won't get scammed in the future." He paused, his voice lowering as if to coax me. "But don't pull that stuff on me. It's not that I don't want to spend money on you. I'm just worried you'll get used to it and won't be able to make ends meet later." In the past, my resolve would crumble whenever he softened his voice like that. A kind gesture from him, and I would forget the pain he just caused me. This time, I simply turned on my laptop and exported three years' worth of transfer records. It was the difference in rent, utilities, caregiver fees, and nutritional meals. I included the 15 dollars I paid the tailor to mend a tear in his shirt as well as the 2,000-dollar deposit I had secretly topped up when his mother was hospitalized. There was also the birthday dinner I had cooked myself because he had not wanted to spend money. However, he later complained that the beef was too expensive. That had left yet another ugly record on my performance review. All those figures, stacked together, looked even grimmer than I had imagined. I posted the spreadsheet to the group chat. Rachel stayed silent for a few seconds before sending an aggrieved-looking emoji. Rachel: [Sonia, keeping such a careful score in a relationship really does feel a little hurtful.] Declan replied even faster: [Turning a relationship into an accounting exercise—Sonia, you've really let me down.] I changed the group chat name from 'Love Points' to 'Debt Collection'. I changed the group icon too. It used to be a candid snapshot he had taken of us together—one where I was grinning goofily, clutching a bag of discounted vegetables from the supermarket. Now, I replaced it with an image of a blank bill. Declan finally called. I did not pick up. He sent a voice message. His tone was not as calm as usual. "Sonia, pick a better time to throw a tantrum. My mom is still expecting you over for dinner during the Independence Day holiday. Isn't looking after elders your specialty? "Be there at 6:00 pm sharp tomorrow. You feel like you lost out, right? I'm giving you a chance to prove yourself all over again." Hearing the words 'prove yourself again', a wave of nausea suddenly rose in my stomach. For three years, I had been trying to prove I was not after his money. In the end, even half a cup of latte was considered incriminating evidence. … The next evening, I went to the Fletcher family's residence. It was not to prove anything but to get back my suitcase, which contained a gold bracelet my mother had left me. Declan was waiting for me in the hallway. He was wearing that shirt that had faded from too many washes, the cuffs worn and fraying. However, the watch on his wrist was one I had seen just yesterday in the appendix of the prenuptial agreement. It cost six figures. He followed my gaze and pulled his sleeve down. "Stop staring. Your record is bad enough as it is. Don't go looking for trouble." I nodded and walked past him. The place was bustling. Everyone at the table looked up at me, as if I were a housekeeper who had arrived late. Rachel was sitting next to the head of the table, a new handbag resting beside her. Declan had said her old bag was torn. He could not allow a young woman to go out with a tattered bag during the holidays. However, when the zipper on my bag broke, he told me to just sew it up and preached the virtue of frugality. I did not sit down. "Where's my suitcase?" Declan frowned. "We'll talk about that after dinner. If you behave yourself today, I might move you back to probation." He still thought I was here for another chance with him. Chapter 2 Declan's mother, Anita Jackson, pushed a folded bill toward the table. "Sonia, sit down and eat first." She smiled politely, but her gaze shifted from my coat to the tip of my shoes. "Restaurants raise their prices during the holidays. Our family isn't rich or powerful. Before you're married, it's better to keep track of who owes what." I stared at the crystal lamp in the living room and remained silent. Rachel scooted her chair closer to Declan, as if she had only just realized there was no room for me. "Sonia, sit there." She pointed to the folding stool by the door. Declan glanced casually at me. "Don't be fussy. We have elders here." I sat down. The stool was a bit shorter, so my elbow kept bumping against the table edge when I picked up the food. Rachel sat next to Declan, and her plate was soon filled with shrimp. Anita served her a portion of shrimp, and Declan did the same. Before I could touch the shrimp, Rachel took the last two pieces and smiled sweetly. "Isn't Sonia supposed to be so good with money? This shrimp is expensive. You should eat less, so you won't be upset about it when it's time for the split." Everyone at the table laughed. Someone remarked, "Rachel has such a sweet way with words,". Another said, "Sonia, it's good for a woman to be thrifty, but don't pinch pennies until you're miserable." I looked up at Declan. He was peeling a shrimp for Rachel; his fingers were exquisitely slender. I remembered a time I had a fever and craved shrimp stew. He told me seafood was expensive and hard to digest, so he transferred me 12 dollars to buy plain oatmeal instead. I used to think he was just good at managing money. Now, I realized he just did not want to spend it on me. Halfway through the meal, Anita slid the bill toward me. "The tab comes to 3,800 dollars. You and Declan aren't married yet, so it's only fair you pay half. That's not unreasonable, is it?" Biting on her fork, Rachel muttered, "Anita, Sonia got upset over the cost of a latte the other day. Maybe we should just let it go." Anita's expression darkened instantly. "If she's stingy with a small amount like this, how does she expect to marry into the Fletcher family?" Declan finally looked at me. His voice was low, carrying that familiar warning tone. "Sonia, behave yourself today, and I'll restore ten points. Don't embarrass me in front of my family." That used to be the one thing I feared most—that he would think I was immature or that he would cut me out of his plans. That was why I had paid for so many things I should not have. When his relatives visited, he insisted I play the part of the hostess. I shopped for groceries and cooked, only to be penalized by him for buying expensive ribs. When his mother was hospitalized and he claimed money was tight, I transferred over six months' worth of savings. I denied myself even a new down jacket. Today, I was bold. I picked up the bill and glanced at the dishes on the table. I had eaten nothing but a few bites of vegetables, some tofu, and half a bowl of pasta. I turned on my phone, calculated the cost based on the menu prices, and transferred 18.75 dollars to Anita. Anita froze. The corners of Rachel's mouth twitched stiffly. Declan's expression turned icy. "Sonia, what is the meaning of this?" I showed him the transfer record. "I'm splitting the bill. Whoever spends, pays. You taught me that." A sudden silence fell over the table. Anita was trembling with rage. "You're embarrassing the Fletcher family!" I looked at her. "You've misunderstood. I've simply finally learned not to take advantage of others." Rachel's eyes instantly welled up with tears. "Sonia, what's come over you? You used to care most about Declan, didn't you?" I glanced at the peeled shrimp on her plate. "Did you pay for the portion you're eating?" Her face went pale. Declan stood up abruptly. "Enough! Sonia, do you really have to make things so ugly for everyone over a single meal?" I did not argue. I simply got up and walked toward the guest room. "I'm done eating. I'll just grab my things and leave." Declan followed and grabbed my wrist. "If you walk out that door today, don't expect me to come coaxing you back." I looked at the hand gripping my wrist. In the past, my heart would race whenever that hand held mine. Now, it just felt heavy. I pried his fingers off. "Declan, I haven't needed you to coax me for a long time." The guest room door opened. My suitcase lay toppled on the floor in the corner. The combination lock had been forced open, the zipper was half-open, and my clothes were rummaged through and scattered in a chaotic mess. I crouched down and immediately felt for the hidden compartment—it was empty. The gold bracelet my mother had left me was gone. Declan stood behind me, and his eyes flickered. Rachel followed as well, tears still clinging to her face. I turned to look at them. "Where's the bracelet?" On the living room TV, the host was smiling and talking about family reunions. Here I stood, realizing that the very last shred of my confidence had been ransacked and taken away. Chapter 3 Rachel burst into tears first. "Sonia, don't look at me like that. I'm scared." She shrank behind Declan, as if I were the thief. Declan frowned and stood in front of her. "Sonia, you might have misplaced it. Don't scare people off so abruptly." I stared at him. "It was from my mom." His tone was as indifferent as if he were talking about an old piece of clothing. "I know. So you really should think it over and see if you've misplaced it." Rachel bit her lip, tears falling. "Declan, forget it. Let me explain." She looked up at me, carefully saying, "Sonia, that bracelet is too old. I noticed the patterns have worn away, so I thought I'd take it to be cleaned for you." My heart sank to the bottom. "Where did you take it?" Rachel gave the name of a jewelry store. I turned and left. Declan caught up to me, his tone impatient. "Sonia, can you please stop being so fussy? Rachel did it out of kindness." The jewelry store was not far from the Fletcher family's residence. When I arrived, the craftsman behind the counter was using his tools to polish the inside of the bracelet. The harsh metal sound was like a knife scraping against bone. I rushed over. "Don't move!" The craftsman was startled. Rachel followed close behind, explaining tearfully, "I just wanted to make it look a bit more youthful. Sonia is usually so plain; I thought she wouldn't like such an old-fashioned style." I picked up the bracelet. The name 'Sonia' had originally been engraved on the inside. My mother had chosen it herself while she was still alive. She had said that once she was gone and there was no one left to back me up, this bracelet would keep me company in her place. Now, half of that name had been polished away. It felt as if the last trace of my mother's voice, left just for me, had been forcibly erased. Declan glanced at it and frowned. "If it's ruined, I'll buy you a new one." I looked up at him. He was still wearing that old shirt, yet there was not a trace of a poor man's insecurity in his eyes or expression; only the irritation of being disturbed. "Sonia, don't scare Rachel. It's just an old bracelet; is it really worth making such a fuss?" I smiled. "How much is my mother's keepsake worth to you?" Declan paused, looking at me as if I were being unreasonable. "Do you have to talk like that?" Rachel sobbed even harder. "Sonia, I'm sorry. Can I pay you for it? Don't blame Declan. It's all my fault." As she spoke, she surreptitiously clutched Declan's sleeve. "I only did it because Declan said you hated old things." I looked at Declan. His eyes flickered before his expression hardened. "Enough. Don't drag me into this." I took out my phone. "I'm calling the police." Declan's expression finally shifted. He grabbed my hand. "Sonia! Don't involve the police. Rachel is still young; do you want her to end up with a criminal record?" I asked him, "What about me? My suitcase was pried open, and my mother's keepsake was ruined. Am I just supposed to endure it?" Declan lowered his voice, his tone softening just as it always did in the past. "Nia." He rarely called me that. He only ever did so when he knew I was at my breaking point. "I know you feel wronged. How about I make it up to you with 100 performance points later? Let's just leave it at this." Looking at his face, inches from mine, I was suddenly reminded of three years ago. Back then, he had stood in the rain waiting for me to get off work, telling me his family was struggling, and he was afraid I would suffer if I stayed with him. My heart ached for him, and I told him it did not matter; as long as we worked hard together, a little hardship was nothing. In the end, he really did make me suffer for three years. I called the police. When the officers arrived, Declan looked grim enough to kill. Ultimately, he had no choice but to admit he had taken the bracelet from my suitcase. He said, "I thought you wouldn't mind. Didn't you use to say you'd give me anything I needed?" I tucked the ruined bracelet into my bag and did not answer. I had suddenly realized that he would not understand, no matter what I said. As I stepped out of the jewelry store, a text message from the hospital popped up on my phone: [Abnormal results from your gastric follow-up examination; please be admitted for further testing as soon as possible.] Declan saw it too and sneered. "Again? If you were really in pain, take a clear photo of the test report. But you just had to be in pain today. What a coincidence." I gripped the bracelet inside my bag; the hard edges dug painfully into my fingertips. For the first time, I did not explain. I simply looked at him and retorted, "Declan, you'd better remember what you just said." He turned his head away in annoyance. "Don't act like I'm mistreating you." I turned and walked away. Behind me, I heard Rachel whisper, "Declan, is Sonia angry again?" Declan replied, "Let her be. She'll be mad for a few days and then come crawling back." I did not slow down. This time, I did not look back. Chapter 4 I woke up in pain at 2:00 am. It felt like a rusty knife was stabbed into my stomach, slicing into me again and again. I curled up by the bed, cold sweat running down my forehead. My phone slipped to the floor. The glaring light from the cracked screen was piercing and painful to my eyes. I waited for a while before reaching for the phone and calling for emergency help. When I arrived at the hospital, the nurse asked me, "Where's your family?" I opened my mouth, my first thought still Declan. How ridiculous! When a person was in deep pain, the body would be slower than the heart to accept reality. I did not want to contact him, but the emergency contact section in the patient record system was still Declan. The doctor handed me the consent form. "It's not looking good. We need to act quickly. Contact your family first." I leaned back in the chair, my fingers shaking as I pressed three times before finally dialing his number. The first call went unanswered. The second call was hung up. When the third call got through, an airport announcement was heard in the background. Rachel's voice was very close. "Declan, I'm a little nervous for my first flight in first class." Declan comforted her. "Don't be afraid. I'm here." I had waited for those words so many times. I waited for them when I had a fever. I waited when I had a stomachache. I waited when I sat alone in the living room on my mother's death anniversary. However, I had never heard him say that to me. Not even once. When he spoke into the phone, his voice instantly turned cold. "Sonia, what are you trying to start now?" I swallowed the taste of blood rising in my throat. "I'm at the hospital." He fell silent for two seconds, as if weighing what kind of stunt I was pulling. "The hospital is packed on Independence Day. Don't make a big deal out of nothing. Rachel has been looking forward to this island trip for ages; did you really have to pick today of all days to get attention?" Rachel immediately whispered, "Maybe I shouldn't go. Sonia seems genuinely upset." Declan's voice softened instantly. "Ignore her. She's an expert at using her health to threaten people." Rachel added softly, "Sonia does this every time. I can't even tell if she's actually in pain or just wants you to pity her." Declan did not contradict her. Suddenly, I was speechless. The nurse urged me from the side, "Ms. Golding, still can't reach your family? We can't delay this any longer." On the other end of the line, Rachel asked, "Declan, is it my fault you two are arguing?" Declan soothed her in a low voice, "It's not your fault. She's just spoiled." I hung up. I accidentally knocked the IV cannula out of place, causing blood to backflow into the tube. The nurse hurriedly pressed my hand. "Don't move. You shouldn't get agitated right now." I stared at the line in the medical record system: [Emergency Contact—Declan Fletcher] His phone number followed it. Over the years, I had entrusted so much to him. I let him handle the rent. I let him grade my future. I even designated him as the person to call in a medical emergency. However, he did not want it. He found me troublesome and a drain on his money; he even resented that my pain came at such inconvenient times. I raised my hand, tapped 'Edit' and then 'Delete'. The moment I left the name blank, it felt like a piece of my heart had been ripped out. Strangely enough, I also felt lighter. The nurse was stunned. "Ms. Golding, are you sure you don't want to keep Mr. Fletcher as your contact?" I looked at a new post that had just popped up in my social media feed. Declan was standing in an airport duty-free shop, leaning over to put a necklace on Rachel. Rachel was looking up at him, her eyes glimmering as if filled with stars. The caption read: [Rachel's first long-distance trip. She's doing great. A hundred points rewarded.] Immediately after, he sent me a private message. Declan: [Minus 100 points for tonight. You'd better figure out how to apologize before I get back.] I smiled. "No need. He’s busy awarding points to others." I changed the emergency contact to myself. I used my own phone number too. Saved. The doctor wheeled the stretcher over. "Ms. Golding, sign here." I took the pen, my hand shaking so badly that I could barely form the letters. The pen tip tore the paper, leaving a short, dark streak. Every stroke hurt, but I finished signing anyway. Sonia Golding. I was not Declan’s girlfriend. I was not a high-risk gold digger. I was not a woman who had to earn enough points just to get married. I was just Sonia Golding. I handed over the signed risk disclosure form. "I have no family here. I’m signing for myself." The nurse placed my phone into a bag for personal belongings. The screen lit up. Declan sent another voice message, his tone nonchalant. "Sonia, don't overdo it. If you haven't admitted you were wrong by the time I get back, forget about the wedding." The nurse asked, "Do you want to listen to this voice message?" I looked at his name on the screen. With a gentle swipe, I replied to the nurse, "Delete it." The operating room lights were stark white. Just before the doors slid shut, I opened that breakup bill and pinned it back to the top of the list. In the notes section, I slowly typed out a line: [Declan—Accounts Receivable: Three years of genuine love. Bad Debt: Settled.]