When Jake suggested we move to Alaska to save money and build our future, I said yes without hesitation. It felt like the leap we needed. I took a weekend trip with my girlfriends before the big move, full of excitement and hope.
But when I got back, everything crumbled.
Boxes—my boxes—were stacked by the door. Jake’s stuff? Nowhere in sight. I walked in, confused. He was on the couch, calm, remote in hand.
“I’m not going,” he said flatly.
“What do you mean?” I asked, stunned.
“I changed my mind. Alaska’s not for me.”
Before I could react, a girl strolled out of the bathroom—wearing his T-shirt. “Hi! You must be Chloe. I’m Maddie.”
Jake introduced her like this was normal.
“She’s my girlfriend,” he said. “She’s staying here while you go to Alaska.”
The house—my mom’s house—was suddenly theirs.
“You can take it to court,” he added casually.
I stood there, heart shattered, realizing I’d been played.
He never intended to build a life with me.
He just wanted a free ride—until someone new came along.
