He Stole My Money, I Stole His Regret

t; he floated, glowing with a post-retreat aura of smug enligh

're processing. This is good. A nec

our five years together were nothing more tha

ergy to argue. I jus

ect at the design co-op we shared, Sabrina appeared.

op on the table next to mine. It was housed

ft, melodic hum. "He said a visionary needs the prop

The machine I'd used to earn the money that paid for

r, focusing

was empty. I frantically checked our joint account again. The remaining

living room, "medit

r, Ethan? Where is t

one of profound patience, as if exp

a proper toolkit for her brand. I bought her a new camera, light

he one I work on? The on

ice dripping with faux compassion. "She doesn't have your resilience. Sh

s. He had stolen my livelihood to fund his

loved, and saw a complete stranger.