Chapter 2

After that, whenever I picked up a side gig, I'd always drag Charles along, and the two of us started to get pretty close.

It wasn't until right before graduation that he finally confessed his feelings, holding a bunch of slightly faded roses. "Zoe, be my girlfriend."

I took the roses and looked at them carefully, staying silent.

Charles scratched his head, clearly embarrassed.

"I got a part-time job at a flower shop, and these were the flowers nobody wanted, so I got them for half off. You don't mind, right?" he asked carefully, his eyes full of hope.

Of course I didn't mind. Honestly, this was probably the nicest thing he could afford.

And just like that, we ended up living together.

But once we left the college bubble, things got tough. We were broke students, so we could only afford the cheapest, tiny partitioned room.

To save money, we always cooked at home. On my birthday, Charles would always bring me those buns from the market that cost two bucks a pound, and as for Valentine's Day, that was never a thing for us.

After scraping by for so long, it never once occurred to me that my boyfriend might actually be rich.

My phone buzzed, and I glanced at it.

Charles had already added my work account and sent me the completed application form.

I opened it up and took a look.

It read: [The woman who marries me will get 1.5 million in cash, a luxury sports car, and a villa worth six million.]

On the "Love Note" line, he simply wrote: [I know love well. Wherever the money goes, that's where love follows.]

Turned out, Charles understood everything, except loving me.

I looked at the two-buck canvas bag he gave me, and the prints on it seemed to laugh at me in silence.

The bus reached my stop, and I got off with my spirits crushed.

When I got to the hotel entrance, Charles was already waiting. The moment he saw me, he rushed over, scooped me up, and spun me around in his arms.

"Honey, you're finally here. I've been waiting forever. Why are your hands so cold? Let me warm them up for you," he said.

He grabbed my hands and tucked them inside his coat, grumbling, "My boss is such an asshole. Seriously, he waits until halfway through the day to suddenly ask for files. Sorry for the errand, honey.

"Alright, honey, I gotta go. My boss is still waiting. You should get going."

He ruffled my hair affectionately, and then turned to leave.

Almost on impulse, I grabbed his backpack. "Is there anything you want to say to me?"

Charles turned around, looking all serious. "Yeah, there is something."

My heart jumped into my throat.

Then Charles leaned in close and whispered in my ear, "We're eating good tonight. My boss gave me a coupon, so I'll bring you some food when I get back."

As soon as he finished, he went right back to his usual cheerful self. He smiled, waved goodbye, and headed back into the hotel.

I felt like all the air had been sucked out of me, and I was barely able to walk.

Just then, a video message popped up on my work account. It was from Charles.

He was inside the hotel, unzipping his backpack and pulling out a condom. Then he pointed at my fading silhouette, bragging, "See? That's the simp I mentioned before."

I couldn't bear to watch any longer. I turned off my phone, but the tears wouldn't stop.

I'd gone through so much to earn a living, but no matter how tough things got, I never shed a tear.

After Charles and I got together, I always worried about him, thinking he'd had it rough, so I did whatever he asked and had never once turned him down.

On his birthday, I always made sure he got the best gifts, the freshest flowers, a birthday cake, and the nicest clothes, computer, and phone.

But for myself, I only bought the cheapest clothes from those bargain apps online.

I was so broke that I didn't even dare go to the hospital when I got sick. During the pandemic, medicine was impossible to find, and I couldn't bring myself to pay those crazy prices.

I gave Charles the only fever meds we had, while I kept fighting through a high fever, refusing to give in. In the end, it wrecked my throat.

I remember after his fever broke, he hugged me, crying, overwhelmed with gratitude. "Zoe, I swear I'll never let you down."

But now, he betrayed me. No, that was not even the right word. In his eyes, I was just a simp.

The word 'betray' only made sense when you actually loved someone.