A Boyfriend who Likes to Play Pranks - Chapter 5

I curled up in the bed, my chest constricting.

“Ms. Miller?” The detective’s voice was edged with concern. “I’ll get a doctor.”

He turned to leave, but I grabbed his sleeve. “Wait. I have one more question.”

He looked at me, hesitant. “You don’t seem well.”

I wiped my face, sitting up. “I’m fine. I can do this.”

I took a deep breath. “Did… did Mark’s parents know?”

Detective Sullivan’s lips pressed into a thin line. He nodded.

“His mother actually suggested using David. She said it was better to keep it ‘in the family.‘ That way, the baby would at least carry the Thompson bloodline.”

So they knew. They’d pretended to be devastated, manipulating my sympathy, all the while complicit in this horrific scheme. Disgust rolled through me, a wave of nausea.

My mother exploded. “Those monsters!”

My dad’s face was red with fury. “Officer, you have to arrest them all!”

“They can’t get away with this! Our daughter is not their plaything!”

The detective, trying to calm them, ushered them out of the room as another officer entered. He turned to me, his eyes filled with pity. “Ms. Miller, you should rest. I have to go. We can talk more later…”

“Detective Sullivan.”

He stopped. “Yes?”

I paused. “Thank you.”

“Take care of yourself.”

After he left, I sat there, numb. I still had questions. Why this elaborate, convoluted plan? Mark had spent months laying the groundwork with his escalating pranks, conditioning me to expect the unexpected.

He’d been prepared to grovel, to beg for forgiveness, all to avoid suspicion. It was so much work. Why not just get me drunk? Or drug me? It would have been so much easier. Why the “trouble“? David Thompson was arrested.

He confessed, claiming he’d been coerced by Mark, pleading for leniency. Mark’s mother was also arrested, charged with conspiracy. I refused to offer a plea bargain. I wanted them to face the full consequences of their actions.

Two months later, the trial ended. David was sentenced to four years. Mark’s mother received two years, with one year suspended. Mark got four years. Before he went to prison, I visited him.

He was a shadow of his former self. His hair was buzzed short, his face gaunt, his body thinner. He looked at me with an expressionless face, but his eyes… his eyes were filled with hate. In that moment, I knew. Mark hated me.

But why?

After a long silence, he spoke. “Why are you here? To gloat?”

A smirk twisted his lips. “Jenna, I never thought you were capable of such cruelty.”

“In your plan, I was supposed to forgive you, get pregnant, marry you, and then you could slowly bleed my family dry, right?”

I stared at him, finally asking the question that had haunted me.

Why the “trouble“?

Mark paused, then laughed, a harsh, grating sound. “Why do you think? To punish you.”

My breath hitched. “What?”

“To punish you,” he repeated, his voice flat. “Do you know how humiliating the last seven years have been?”

“You’re from a good family, you’re beautiful. Everyone thought I was punching above my weight. Back in college, they’d joke about me being a gold digger, a kept man. Even my parents thought so.”

“Every time they called, they’d tell me to be nice to you, to keep you happy, never to upset you. They were counting on me marrying you, using your family’s money to show off back home.”

“So for seven years, I’ve been groveling at your feet. Do you even realize how spoiled you are?”

He continued, “I still remember the way you looked at David that day he came over. The disgust, the disdain. You thought he was a thief. But Jenna, we’re the same. I just got luckier.”

“The way you treated him showed me how little you really thought of me.”

“That condescending attitude… it made me furious. I wanted to punish you. To drag you down, to crush your precious pride.”

I stared at him, my fingernails digging into my palms. He’d done this… to punish me. I had given my heart to a monster. No, Mark wasn’t even a monster. He was something worse.

“Mark,” I said, my voice trembling, “I regret ever meeting you.”

He chuckled. “Too bad. I’ve already ruined you.”

“Ruined? Says who?” I met his gaze. “What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger. I’ll be fine. I’ll find people who love me for who I am.”

“Mark, you’re the one who’s ruined.”

Time was up. The guards came for him. I sat there, tears streaming down my face. An officer touched my arm. “Ms. Miller, you need to leave.”

I wiped my eyes, picked up my purse, and walked out. The sun was shining. Bright, warm sunlight that Mark wouldn’t see. A strange sense of peace settled over me.

Relief. I had been brave. I could start over. Life was long, full of possibilities.