My Heart For A Dollar After He Crushed My Mothers Ashes

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On our wedding night, Weston Raymond suddenly confessed to his infidelity and presented me with two choices.

Either I could look the other way for the duration of the marriage, and he would compensate me handsomely, or we could divorce immediately.

After seven years together, I assumed he was joking.

It wasnt a joke. Post-nuptials, he quickly established what I came to call a transactional marriage.

When the betrayals mounted, he used money to buy out my hysterics, my furious screams, my collapse.

When I was grieving a miscarriage, he used money to buy out the life of the child we lost.

Even when my mother was hospitalized with a serious illnessand his latest mistress, Kira, texted her intimate photos of them in bed, triggering a heart attack that rushed her into surgeryhe maintained a chilling indifference.

Ten million dollars, he said, his voice flat. To buy out your mothers broken heart.

If thats not enough, Ill raise the price.

I didn't answer. I stood guard outside the operating room for a day and a night.

The moment the doctor announced my mothers death, I dialed Westons number.

I want a billion dollars.

This time, what he was buying out was no longer something trivial.

It was the last ember of love I had for him.

The phone line went silent for a moment, then I heard a faint, unmistakable sound of a womans breathlessness in the background.

A moment later, Westons footsteps moved to a quieter place. His voice, when it came, was a razor-sharp sneer.

A hundred million? Talia Quinn, have I been too generous these past three years? Did that make you think you had the leverage for an absurd demand?

Your mother just got a little rattled by a photo. Even if she were actually dead, she wouldnt be worth a dime more than ten million, do you understand?

Was she not worth it?

I thought even ten billion couldn't buy back my mother's life. And now, she really was gone.

Weston didnt give me a chance to speak, hanging up the phone with a decisive click. The screeching static pierced my eardrum and lodged itself in my heart.

I turned and walked into the morgue, looking at the stillness beneath the white sheet covering my mother. A wave of bone-deep cold washed over me. I bent down and hugged her icy body.

Instead of my mothers gentle, fragmented words of concern, all I could hear was the doctors regretful sigh.

If not for the massive shock that led to the sudden heart failure, the patient would have been ready for surgery soon. Her recovery looked promising.

Its a great pity. It was just so sudden

Sudden, indeed.

Just three days ago, I was nestled in my mothers arms, crying and promising her that as soon as she was discharged, I would divorce Weston and cut him out of my life for good.

I never imagined that death would arrive faster than fRaymondom.

When my mother was rushed to the operating room, Weston had shielded Kira behind him.

Kira didnt do it on purpose. Your mothers health was already failing; she couldnt handle the shock.

Talia Quinn, youre just making a scene for money, aren't you?

Ten million dollars. Is that enough, or not?

The ruthless sound of his voice hammered in my skull, tearing my heart into two ragged pieces.

I trembled, clutching my mothers cold corpse, and the tears I had suppressed for so long finally broke, one after another, splashing onto her closed eyelids, forming a shallow pool of pure despair.

Mom I was wrong please wake up

I dont love Weston anymore Ill divorce him Well go home, just us, well go home

When the sobs finally turned to dry retching, I knelt on the floor, convulsing in pain.

Fearing I would collapse completely, a nurse gave me a sedative.

When I woke up, my heart felt like ash. I picked up my phone and called Weston again.

He answered immediately, his voice heavy with the certainty of victory. Figured out the right price, have you?

Yes, I said softly. Ten million dollars.

Ten million.

It was enough to buy out the heart that had pulsed for Weston for the last decade. It was enough.

Having received the answer he wanted, Weston was satisfied. His voice lifted with a self-congratulatory cadence.

Thats my girl. Thats the sort of class and composure a Raymond wife should have.

As long as you keep being this compliant, Ill make sure to come home on time every day.

The Weston of eighteen would have been mortified to hear those words.

He was the boy who chased the school bus on his bike, begging me to be his. He was the man who knelt on the sidewalk, offering me a ring bought with his first startup funds, asking me to marry him.

At eighteen, hed pedaled me around the entire lake, shouting his promises into the wind.

I, Weston Raymond, swear by everything, I will love Talia Quinn for the rest of my life.

The night wind must have been too harsh, scattering those earnest, youthful vows. Now, only the wreckage remained.

I wouldnt fight him anymore. I didn't want him anymore.

After the cremation, I held my mothers ashes, letting a final, single tear fall.

Mom, were going home, and were never looking back.

Back at the house, I carried the urn upstairs to pack my things.

Kira slinked out of the master suite, wearing my silk nightgown, leaning suggestively against the doorframe.

In the past, I would have exploded.

Now, my mother was dead, and so was my heart. There was only numbness and silence left.

Seeing my lack of reaction, Kira intentionally pulled down the neckline, revealing a constellation of aggressive hickeys on her throat, trying to provoke me.

Wes said this marital bed was custom-ordered, and when I mentioned it last night, he actually let me try it out.

Its very comfortable, so big and soft.

It was true, Weston had customized it. But ever since he confessed his infidelity on our wedding night, and I stubbornly decided to fight him, that bed had been home only to hysterical screams and endless tears.

My face remained expressionless. I spoke with a deathly chill.

Get out.

Kiras smug expression froze, then she recovered, letting out a dismissive scoff.

I dont know what you have to be so proud of. Wes obviously doesnt love you. You cling to him and refuse to divorce; youre an embarrassment to women everywhere!

If I were you, Id just jump off a bridge and die. At least youd leave a little impression on Wess heart. She paused, the smirk turning cruel. And your mom? A daughter so self-pitying and patheticshe deserved to be six feet under.

My head snapped up, a flash of red-hot fury replacing the numbness in my eyes.

Say that again.

Kira snorted. I said it! Your mom deserved to die

Before she could finish, I slapped her across the face. My palm was shaking, burning.

Kira grabbed her cheek, registered the pain, and then lunged, wrenching my hair and slamming my head against the wall with a sickening thud.

The world spun violently.

I clung to the urn, refusing to let go.

Seeing this, Kira realized what I was protecting and began frantically trying to wrest the box from my grasp, her nails digging into my arm.

Just then, Weston emerged from the bathroom, frowning. He yanked Kira and me apart.

Kira immediately shed her aggression, pointing at the slap mark on her face and dissolving into theatrical tears.

Wes, she hit me! And she tried to smash that ugly box over my head!

Westons face hardened, ignoring the bloodied scratches Kiras nails had left on my face and neck.

Talia Quinn, apologize.

I gasped in pain, forcing the tears back into the corners of my eyes.

Over my dead body.

Weston suddenly raised his hand, aiming for my face.

I lifted my chin, daring him to strike.

He didnt hit me.

Instead, his hand shot past my face, snatching the urn from my arms with brutal force. He raised his arm high and hurled the vessel to the floor.

I lunged to catch it, but I was too slow.

CRASH! The deafening sound of shattering ceramic.

My heart burst open in my chest.

I crawled on my hands and knees toward the fragments of the urn, my hands shaking uncontrollably.

My mothers last words echoed in my mind.

Tal, please divorce Wes. All I want is for you to be happy

What exactly had three years of desperate refusal bought me?

Only another thousand daggers of pain.

My eyes were bloodshot, but I couldn't produce another tear. I could only futilely pick up the broken pieces, trying to put back what couldnt be mended.

The next second, Weston lifted his foot and ground it down, crushing my mothers remains.

I went insane, pounding his shin with my fists.

Get out! Get out!

Everyone, get out!

Weston didnt budge. He looked down at me and sneered.

Its just a miserable, cursed container. Why are you having such a meltdown over it?

Look at you, Talia. You look like a lunatic.

Kira wrapped her arm around his, whining affectionately.

Wes, she hit me pretty hard. Just a broken box seems too easy on her, doesnt it?

Weston chuckled, indulgently. What do you want to do?

Give her ten slaps back, to make it even.

Weston smiled, then his tone turned ice-cold, the words striking my ears like pellets of hail.

Did you hear that, Talia? Kira wants satisfaction.

I looked up sharply, glaring at him through my red-rimmed eyes.

He paused, then curled his lip.

Whats with the drama? You havent cried like this in ages. All this fuss over a broken container?

It was only then that I realized my face was slick with tears.

The man squatted down, brushing a tear away from my cheek. His action was gentle, but his tone was purely arrogant.

Name your price. Buy out the box.

I started to laugha dry, horrible sound.

Buyout.

It was always a buyout! In Westons eyes, everything I possessedmy feelings, my loyalty, my memoriescould be bought and sold.

Four years ago, on our wedding night, I couldnt accept his terms. I screamed and raged. Weston ignored my breakdown, called another woman, and left me alone in the custom bed.

Before midnight, photos of them blanketed the web. I, his wife, became the citys laughingstock. I sat there until dawn, clutching the images.

When he called, his voice was just as dismissive as it was now.

Can we discuss the terms now?

Talia Quinn, Ill give you the status, the name, and the money. Youre just being gRaymondy if you also expect my exclusive loyalty.

I couldnt comprehend how he could promise me everything, only to turn around and label me the gRaymondy one.

I refused to let go, dragging him through the wreckage. Every time I was hurt, he bought out my pain with money.

This time, let him pay to buy out the entire relationship.

I looked at Weston and repeated the number.

A billion dollars.

The word left my mouth, and Weston burst into laughter.

Talia Quinn, have you lost your mind? Is this junk so valuable? Does it contain, what, a human life?

I gripped the shards of the urn in my palm, the irony choking me.

Kira giggled sweetly.

So sorry, Miss Quinn, but Wes cant give you that billion.

He just bought me ten diamonds from South Africa for my birthday crown, and they were a hundred million each. Exactly one billion, actually.

The last vestige of reason I held on to snapped.

The ceramic shards dug into my palm, drawing blood.

I shot up, lunging to stab Kira in the face.

I was a second too slow.

Weston quickly shielded her, shoving me hard.

I stumbled back, crashing into the stair railing, and a gush of warm blood immediately streamed down my forehead.

Weston didn't even glance at me. He was too busy frantically checking Kira to see if she was hurt.

Kira huddled in his arms, cautiously cradling her abdomen.

Wes, my stomach hurts. The baby isnt hurt, is it?

I looked up, stunned, staring at Kiras small bump.

She immediately panicked. Wes, what do we do? She knows about the baby! She looks terrifying. She wouldnt hurt the baby, would she?

Weston turned back to me, his eyes filled with fierce wariness.

Talia Quinn, one last chance. Name a price.

A thousand poisonous, hooked vines attacked me from all sides, piercing my heart.

In that moment, whether it was a billion or ten million.

I didnt want the money anymore.

I just wanted to vanish from Weston Raymonds world forever.

My silence only confirmed Kiras fears for Weston. He was convinced I would hurt her child. His voice was glacial.

Talia Quinn, Ill give you three days. Give me a satisfactory answer.

Dont forget, your mother is still in the hospital.

But wasn't my mother's urn currently being ground under his foot?

I started to weep with silent laughter, watching him carefully gather Kira into his arms and carry her away.

The massive, empty house was left to me alone.

Ignoring the blood dripping from my forehead, I knelt on the floor, using a bottle to collect the remnants of my mothers ashes. My vision was clouded with despair.

After retrieving my ID and bank cards, I took off the princess-cut diamond engagement ring I had worn for five years.

As I set it down, I could faintly hear Westons proposal promise.

Tal, give me a chance to protect you for the rest of my life, okay?

It turned out the rest of my life was fleetingly short.

As the night deepened, I took only a small bag and walked out the door.

Two security guards appeared instantly, forced me into a black car, and drove me to a private, isolated facility.

I fought and screamed, but the guards voice was devoid of emotion.

Mr. Raymond said hes giving you three days.

If you havent softened by then, youll stay here for good.

The door slammed shut. CRASH!

I hammered the door until my knuckles bled and my voice was raw, but the guard never opened it.

I was locked in that mental health facility for three days and three nights, which felt like three centuries. The only people I saw were the staff. Whenever I neared hysteria, they would hold me down and forcefully inject me with sedatives.

When they left, the silence was absolute, broken only by the rambling wails of a patient in the next room, chipping away at my last defenses.

I felt myself truly slipping into madness.

I began to hallucinate.

I saw my mother, looking at me with a heart-wrenching pity.

Tal, how did you let yourself become like this?

I also saw the young Weston. He stood by my bedside, gently stroking my hair.

Tal, when youre better, Ill take you to see the biggest hydrangea fields.

On the fourth morning, the drugs effects began to fade.

I opened my eyes groggily to a bouquet of hydrangeas. For a moment, I thought the eighteen-year-old Weston had come to rescue me.

Then I saw the man by the bed, his expression cold and hard.

Have you made your decision?

I slowly sat up, my face numb.

Yes. I have.

Weston nodded, satisfied.

How much will it cost for you to accept the child?

Dont worry, even after the baby is born, Ill still come home on schedule. Nothing will change

One dollar.

I calmly interrupted his rambling.

Weston froze, disbelief etched on his face. Then, displeasure.

Talia Quinn, are you playing games? You would never ask for a single dollar.

I want one dollar. I held out my hand, my voice firm. Give me one dollar, and you can have children with anyone you want. I wont interfere again.

Weston ground his teeth, seemingly infuriated but also amused by my audacity. He pulled a hundred-dollar bill from his wallet and flung it at my face.

Fine! Fine, you win!

You better stick to your word!

With that, he kicked a chair aside, signaled for the guards outside to leave, and turned away.

I retrieved my bag and confirmed its contents. Then, I strode out of the facility.

The moment I stepped past the iron gate, I threw the hundred-dollar bill high into the sky and never looked back.

Westons assistant told him I had left the facility, and his first assumption was that I had gone home.

However, when he arrived at the house, I wasn't there to greet him, nor was his favorite dinner on the table.

A sudden dread seized him. He called his assistant.

Didnt you say Talia was released? Why isnt she here?

Mr. Raymond, I didnt say Mrs. Raymond went home.

Then where could she be? Her mother is still in the hospital

Before he could finish, the assistants voice came back, laced with shock.

Mr. Raymond, the truth is, Mrs. Raymonds mother passed away four days ago. Resuscitation failed. Didnt you know?