Chapter 1: My Ex Brought Me the Virus

After I Gave Up, I Blew Up Overnight

My boyfriend spent my money to secretly take his 'true love' on a trip, and caught COVID.

He came back with a fever. He knocked on my door:

"Savannah, open the door."

Seriously? He actually brought his mess home—hand-delivering the virus to my front door.

I watched him cough through the front door camera.

And right then, I got a text from his so-called first love:

"Evan Parker tested positive. He was afraid of infecting me, so he went to you instead. You'll take good care of him, right?"

Hilarious.

Take care of him? Please. I'd sooner poison him myself.

Ever since winter started, the virus was everywhere.

All my friends had already caught it, but I'd managed to hold out, hoping to make it to the final round.

But just when I thought I was safe, Evan Parker showed up—lugging the virus straight to my door.

Before this, he'd secretly traveled the country with his so-called first love, who'd just returned from abroad. He lied to me, saying it was for work. Yeah, right.

I live in a small standalone house in the suburbs. There's a security camera at the entrance.

Watching the monitor, I saw him try several password combinations—all wrong.

Finally, he gave up and buzzed me on the intercom:

"Savannah, did you change the password?"

No kidding. After our breakup, of course I changed it. Like I was supposed to just wait around for my ex to break in?

I ignored him.

Evan kept coughing hard, looking sick and sounding weak.

He definitely had a fever.

He tried again:

"Savannah, let me in."

Let him in? What, so I can welcome the virus?

I chuckled at the screen, deliberately asking:

"Evan, after all those places you visited, did you bring me back a gift?"

He froze, stammered, then tried to dodge the question:

"Just let me in first, Savannah. It's really cold out here."

He started coughing again, covering his mouth.

Evan was always healthy. Tall, lean, always at the gym—he had an eight-pack under his shirt. Every winter, he never even bothered with long johns or complained about the cold.

But this year, even with the mild winter, he was bundled up in a thick black puffer coat and scarf, shivering. That fever must be pretty high.

Positive, for sure.

I was speechless, even amused. He and his so-called first love ignored the pandemic, traveled all over, caught the virus—and now he was here, dropping it off at my place? Unbelievable.

"So? Evan, is your gift to me the virus you brought back?"

Hearing me call him out, his face darkened.

I hung up, leaving him out in the winter wind, not bothering to look again.

Men are like old T-shirts—fun while they last. Once they’re torn or out of style, you toss them without a second thought.

Sometimes I wonder if all breakups are this liberating, or if I just got lucky escaping before the mess got any bigger. There’s a special kind of freedom in finally seeing someone for who they really are—and realizing you don’t owe them a damn thing anymore.

Three months ago, Evan's so-called first love, Emily Reed, came back from abroad. Since then, he'd been traveling with her, lying to me about business trips.

He didn't know Emily Reed was a total fake innocent. She clung to him while sending me their intimate photos from an anonymous number—though I knew it was her. Only she could have taken pictures from those angles.

She also sent me a bunch of fake sweet texts, like:

"Finally saw Lake Tahoe I’d dreamed about, finally kissed the one I missed."

With a photo of her and Evan kissing by the lake at sunset.

Or:

"When you like a man, you just want to wear his shirt."

With a hotel selfie—her in a white dress shirt—Evan gazing at her adoringly in the background.

Or:

"Evan says he worked all these years just waiting for me to come back."

With a screenshot of a $7,500 transfer from him.

You have to admit, Emily really knew how to get under my skin.

But the funniest part? Was that Evan's money?

Nope. It was mine!

He started a business right out of college. Looking back, he was reckless. I must've been blind, falling for that stubborn, youthful charm.

Love really does lower your IQ.

The first year, his business did okay. But from the second year on, the pandemic hit, and his little company struggled. Evan was proud, always pretending to be better off than he was. To protect his ego, I pretended to be poor all those years.

I never told him my dad was the biggest real estate developer in Maple Heights. He always had a thing against 'trust fund kids' anyway. Even this house—I told him it was a cheap rental from a rich friend—never mind it was the smallest property in my name.

He never suspected a thing.

Until he really couldn't keep his business afloat and finally asked if I could help him find some funding. I "lent" him a hundred grand, claiming it was from a friend, but really, it was my own money.

After graduation, my dad put me in charge of a branch office. The real estate market hasn't been great, but I still made millions. Not that I ever told Evan.

And the result?

Evan took my money, braved the pandemic, and toured the country with Emily, living it up. Whenever he was happy, he'd send her thousands at a time.

Honestly? What a clown.

I had someone look into their relationship. Turns out, Emily was his first love—together all through high school and college, until she went abroad. Then I became the rebound.

I threw all his stuff out, sent him a breakup text, and changed the door code. I kept the loan contract. I planned to settle up when the repayment date came.

At first, Evan didn't react much, just impatiently replied:

"Savannah, what are you making a fuss about now? I'm on a business trip, busy and tired. Wait till I get back."

Yeah, right.

I sent him screenshots of the photos and texts from Emily:

"Running around fifteen cities in a month with your old flame—yeah, you seem pretty busy."

He had no comeback, so I blocked him.

Just as I finally started to move on, he showed up again.

He called the video intercom at the gate:

"Savannah, how long are you going to be jealous for? Emily and I grew up together. Her parents died, she's been alone abroad for years, no one here for her. I just felt sorry for her, so I took her traveling. I didn't tell you because I was afraid you'd misunderstand. I'm back now, aren't I? Let me in, okay?"

I stared coldly at the screen. He looked impatient.

Just then, my phone lit up—a new message from Emily:

"Evan tested positive. He was afraid of infecting me, so he went to you instead. Miss Carter, you'll take good care of him, right?"

Yeah right, he was worried about infecting her, so he came to infect me instead. This little fake innocent really knew how to get on my nerves. I blocked her number, but she kept switching numbers to harass me.

I had a gut feeling Emily was up to something. There are plenty of women who knowingly become the other woman, but few are as brazen as her—just back in the country and already harassing his actual girlfriend to make her presence known. She must be desperate.

If she and Evan were just rekindling old feelings, she'd be more subtle, keeping up her fake innocent act to lock him down. So what was she in such a rush for?

Unless—she had an ulterior motive.

Evan was still outside, ringing the bell nonstop. I turned off the intercom, left the security camera on, and watched his every move.

Maybe he got too comfortable traveling with Emily, or maybe he was just used to me always being there for him. Either way, he couldn't accept being shut out.

He glared at the camera:

"Savannah, I've explained everything! If you don't open the door, don't blame me if you regret it!"

He waited a while longer, then finally stormed off when I didn't respond.

Finally, some peace.