Chapter 3: The Gift Trap

The Lillian he mentioned wasn’t just anyone. She was the kid I’d mentored since she was twelve—back when her backpack was falling apart and her shoes had holes. I’d covered her tuition, sent her cards with generous holiday money—more than I ever got—and she always called me her big sister. I never had family of my own, so I poured all my love and time into her, gave her a real home, matching food, matching clothes.

This time, Derek insisted we bring her along—said he wanted to give a little kindness to someone who’d never left the country. Looking back, I should’ve seen the writing on the wall. They’d probably been sneaking around for months, if not longer.

Before I could answer, Derek’s voice came through the wall, sharper now:

"Aubrey, what’s your problem? You’re not backing out, are you? Lillian’s already had it rough. Since we’re helping her, let’s do it right! I’m giving you ten minutes. Bring your debit card downstairs. I picked out a purse for Lillian—come pay for it."

...

[The lead is such a jerk. I can’t stand it—using the ex’s money to support his girlfriend.]

[That’s his appeal. You just don’t get it.]

[Taking care of her right into bed, huh? Gross!]

[If only the ex could see these comments. She’s really too pitiful...]

I clenched my fists tighter, my nails biting into my skin. I kept my face neutral, pretending I couldn’t see the comments, but my heart was pounding so hard I thought everyone in the lobby could hear it.

When I got downstairs, Derek’s eyes scanned my face, picking up on something he didn’t like.

He frowned, concern curdling into annoyance. "What’s wrong? You look pale. Are you sick?"

Before I could answer, Lillian materialized at his side, looping her arm through his like she’d done it a thousand times. She pouted, twisting a strand of hair around her finger, voice syrupy-sweet:

"Oh, Derek, don’t worry. Aubrey’s tough—she’ll be fine. Maybe she’s just nervous about spending money..."

Her gaze slid over to me, sly and triumphant, eyes glinting with something that made my skin crawl. I felt like a bystander at my own mugging.

Derek swallowed her act in one gulp:

"Lillian’s already had it rough, being an orphan, and you still look down on her, not even willing to buy her a gift. Aubrey, I really misjudged you. How can you be so selfish?"

He patted Lillian’s head, just like a sitcom dad, while the rest of the world was supposed to believe I was the villain. My jaw tensed.

I shot a look at both of them. "I give her three hundred bucks a month for living expenses and pay all her college tuition. Is that selfish?"

My voice was sharper than I meant, but Derek’s eyes went cold, cutting right through me. He cared too much about public image to fight, but his disgust was loud enough.

Lillian sniffled, her act never slipping. She blinked and let a few tears fall, her voice trembling just enough:

"I know Aubrey’s always looked down on me for being poor, but I just wasn’t born as lucky as you, with money from the start..."

Derek’s anger simmered, but he didn’t blow up. He just jabbed at me, voice low and hard:

"Aubrey, this is what I hate most about you—bullying people just because you have money. Lillian is younger than us, so we should take care of her. It’s just a little gift. Don’t be stingy."

His words drew glances from the tourists and staff nearby. Suddenly, I was the villain in a scene I’d never auditioned for. All eyes on me, whispers swirling.

But Derek knew my real story. He knew I was also an orphan, that every penny I had was scraped together through sweat and late nights. That was why I sponsored so many other kids like Lillian. His so-called "little gift" was enough to feed a family for years, but that never mattered to him. He just took Lillian and left me standing on the sidewalk, swallowed up by the city’s noise, their backs moving farther away as if I’d never existed at all.