No Longer His Canary

In my fourth year as Alexander Sullivan's canary, he got bored of me and ended it.

I was ready to beg him to stay—tears, screaming, threats, the whole act. Like I had a hundred times before. Perform the devotion. Keep him happy.

But the comments drifting across my vision said that this time, Alexander meant it.

He'd fallen for someone else. This really was the last time we'd ever see each other.

I went quiet on the spot.

And while the tears ran silently down my face, I hooked a hundred-dollar bill off the floor with my pinky, rolled it into my palm, and tucked it a little deeper up my sleeve.

Chapter One

[The male lead is serious this time, and the side character still thinks he's flirting with her lol.]

[Right? All he wants is to dump her and go find our baby girl. The more she clings, the more annoying she gets.]

I first saw the comments three minutes ago, at the exact moment Alexander told me we were done.

Usually when he broke up with me, it was a tantrum. He wanted to watch me cry my heart out in front of him and say things like I can't live without you.

I'd worked myself up and was just about to start sobbing when the comments shoved the sound right back down my throat.

I looked up. The man in front of me was as immaculate as ever.

Black shirt, cuffs folded just below the wrist, even the creases elegant in exactly the right way.

But the watch on his wrist wasn't the one I'd given him for his birthday last year. It was a Casio. The thirty-dollar kind you buy at the mall.

The kind of thing Alexander would never, ever have worn before.

The comments kept coming.

[Does the side character have zero self-awareness? Can't she see his face? If she had any sense she'd take the money and get lost.]

I looked up into the face I'd traced with my eyes a thousand times over the past three years.

This time, it took no effort at all to find the disgust in it.

Those eyes, which used to be so full of laughter, had no room for me anymore.

That was the moment I knew the comments were telling the truth.

So I put away the scene I'd been about to make, and asked, my voice a little hoarse, "So how much are you giving me as a breakup fee?"

Alexander clearly hadn't expected that. He froze.

Then he pulled a stack of cash out of a drawer and tossed it into the air.

Green hundred-dollar bills rained down all over the floor.

He watched me coldly, as if waiting to see what I'd do next.

I stood there with my lips pressed together, watching the comments race past.

[Go on, pick it up. This is the last payout you'll ever get.]

[He's finally seen what she really is, so he's humiliating her with money on purpose. Now he gets it—everyone else is after his money. Only our baby girl is truly pure.]

[But weren't they dating? If he's making a breakup this ugly, how great can this guy be?]

[What do you know? She's a gold-digging canary at best. She takes his money—what right does she have to talk about dignity?]

[Anyone who's alive has a right to dignity.]

…

While the comments fought it out, I'd already gathered the money off the floor, squared the stack neatly, and put it in my bag.

The comments were nasty, but they were right about one thing: this was my last chance to get money out of Alexander, and I was going to make it count.

Maybe I picked up the cash and headed for the door a little too smoothly. When I turned to look back, his face had gone dark enough to drip.

Almost on instinct—three years of intensive training will do that—my eyes went red, and I gave him a look of pure, aching love.

Only when another wave of mocking comments drifted past did I snap out of it. I bit my lower lip and mumbled, "Maybe… you should go first?"

Alexander didn't answer. He walked out, face like ice.

I watched his back as he went, thinking of all the handbags and jewelry he'd given me over three years, and my heart twisted in my chest.

Only then did I let the tears blur my eyes.

This was probably the last time we'd ever see each other.

Goodbye, Alexander.