Honeymoon in Bali

1
To pay for my boyfriends heart condition, I scrimped and saved, refusing to even buy medicine when I was sick.
I worked eight different jobs a day, pushing myself to the point of collapse.
To get the money for his treatments, I signed up for a Gold Rush event at the local mall. I crawled on my hands and knees like a feral dog, desperate to find the tiny gold-painted rice grains that could be exchanged for cashcash that could save his life.
It wasn't until I went with a staff member to cash in my findings that everything fell apart.
Through a thin partition wall, I heard a reporter interviewing my boyfriend.
"Mr. Hatton, you spent three million dollars on this event just to see Miss Vance smile. Your love for her is truly something to be envied."
"That amount of money is nothing," a familiar voice replied. "If it makes Sierra laugh, then these peasants have served their purpose."
I clutched the three thousand dollars I had just received for my golden rice, the irony a bitter pill in my throat.
...
My boyfriend, Thomas Hatton, was a broke kid with a congenital heart condition who couldn't even scrounge up three hundred dollars.
So when I heard that voice, my first thought was that it couldn't be him.
He couldn't afford three hundred, let alone three million for some publicity stunt. Besides, he was in the hospital, recovering from a heart episode.
It had to be a coincidence. Someone who sounded like him, who also had the last name Hatton.
But the next sound I heard shattered my last sliver of hopea woman's flirtatious giggle from the other side of the wall.
"Thomas, they look like little dogs crawling on the floor! It's hysterical! Especially that one who looks like your girlfriend, Kate. She's really going for it. Is she that desperate for money?"
I heard Thomas's breath catch. He was staring intently at a monitor. Then, his fingers tapped on his phone.
A second later, my own phone buzzed.
[Baby, where are you? If you're tired, take a break. Don't push yourself too hard.]
A bitter laugh escaped me. My hand trembled so badly I could barely hold the phone.
[Don't worry, I'm resting now. I found a really generous employer today. Made a full three thousand.]
He sent back a kissing emoji.
[That's my girl. Three thousand will cover my hospital room for another few days.]
Hilarious.
My lips stretched into a grotesque smile as tears streamed down my face like broken pearls.
Once he was sure the woman on the monitor wasn't me, Thomas relaxed.
He scoffed.
"Crawling on the ground like that... she looks like a dog begging its master for a bone."
The room erupted in laughter.
"Look at the way her ass is sticking up! Isn't it just like a dog wagging its tail?"
"People like that would do anything for money. If you told her to lick your shoes, she'd do it without a second thought."
"Mr. Hatton's shoes are custom-made! They're worth millions! Letting a peasant like her lick them would be an honor!"
On my side of the wall, I stared in shame at my big toe, peeking through a hole in my worn-out shoe.
In that moment, my pride shattered into a million pieces.
I took the money and turned to leave.
But I ran straight into Thomas.
He saw me, and for a split second, panic flashed in his eyes. His gaze dropped to my tattered work uniform, and a flicker of disgust crossed his face.
Then, he barked at the security guard.
"How did a participant get in here? What are you people paid for?!"
The staff member with me quickly explained, "This participant needed to cash in her winnings for a medical bill. I'm sorry, Mr. Hatton. We'll leave immediately."
I stared at Thomas, my mind reeling.
He was dressed in a bespoke suit, looking every bit the arrogant, wealthy heir.
There was no sign of sickness. The fabric of his suit was exquisite, some parts even threaded with gold. I could probably never pan that much gold in my entire lifetime.
My throat was raw. I couldn't tell if I was trembling or just unable to speak.
"Thomas, are you going to pretend you don't know me?"
Before Thomas could answer, the people who had been mocking me just moments before went pale.
"Is this the girlfriend? But... her clothes..."
He didn't finish the sentence, but everyone in the room knew what he meant.
I was sallow, my skin loose from exhaustion, dressed in rags. I had just been crawling on the ground like an animal. I looked like I was on the brink of starvation. How could I possibly be Thomas Hatton's girlfriend?
Thomas's face darkened, a vein throbbing in his arm. His eyes were cold as he looked at me, as if my very presence was a source of deep embarrassment.
The woman next to him, Sierra, let out a dramatic yawn.
"Trying to get Thomas's attention again? Honestly, I'm so tired of these desperate tactics..."
Thomas seemed to finally find his voice, a way out. He stepped around me without a second glance.
"That's a really pathetic way to get a guy's attention."
The bitterness in my mouth was overwhelming. My mind flashed back to college.
My freshman year, I was hazed by the student council and forced to run five miles. I refused and stood up to them. They retaliated by dumping a bucket of toilet water on me.
They made me stand in the blazing sun for two hours until I finally collapsed. The last thing I saw before I blacked out was Thomas, scooping me up and rushing me to the infirmary.
He told me the defiance in my eyes shone like a star.
From that day on, he always stood in front of me, protecting me. He didn't care if he offended the rich kids, if he got punished or bullied for it. He didn't care if I was covered in filth. His love for me had felt so real, so genuine. It's why I stayed with him, even after I learned about his heart condition.
The man from my memories and the man standing before me now were two different people.
I don't know where the courage came from, but I lunged forward and grabbed his arm.
White fingerprints appeared on the expensive fabric of his suit.
His brow furrowed with annoyance.
"You probably couldn't afford to replace this even if you sold yourself..."
"If you're not sick, and you're not poor," I interrupted, "can you... can you give me my money back?"
Because I am sick...
With a single look from Thomas, the others in the room discreetly filed out.
"I pretended to be poor and sick to test you," he said, his voice cold. "To see if you were like all the other gold-digging women, only after my money."
"And it looks like you're all the same."
I didn't argue. I just looked at him and repeated, "Can you... give me my money back?"
Thomas yanked his arm away with such force that I stumbled and fell to the ground.
"You stained my suit, and you have the audacity to ask me for money?"
He saw the tears welling in my eyes, and his tone softened slightly.
"Don't work for the next few days. Just rest. I've scheduled some appointments with a few stylists to give you a makeover."
"Until the makeover is done, let's just pretend we don't know each other, okay?"
It was as if I hadn't heard him. I enunciated each word, my voice flat.
"Give. Me. My. Money. Back."
His patience wore thin.
Thomas's eyes darkened, and he spoke through gritted teeth.
"If you just behave, I'll give you as much money as you want." He looked as if he was making a great sacrifice. "Even if you were only with me for my money, fine! I'll accept it!"
I closed my eyes, letting the tears fall.
"Thomas, let's break up."
He smirked, a look of "I knew it" on his face.
"Afraid I'll think you're a gold digger, so you're preemptively breaking up with me?"
"You found out who I am and deliberately joined this event."
"Even the way you were sticking your ass in the air... you did that for us to see, didn't you?"
I stared at him in disbelief. I had never known he could be so irrational.
"Thomas, how did I never realize how disgusting you are?"
"If you hadn't pretended to be sick, would I have had to work myself to death?"
"My life would be better without you."
He scoffed.
"Still acting?"
"Without me, do you think you would have graduated from college?"
"Without me, do you think you would have landed a job at a Fortune 500 company right after graduation?"
"You're nothing without me!"
I turned away, done with him.
His confident voice followed me.
"You'll be back. I give you a week."
The next few days were a nightmare.
First, all my part-time jobs suddenly "no longer needed" me.
Then, my full-time job at the corporation fired me, offering a generous severance package just to get rid of me.
The moment the money hit my account, long-lost relatives appeared out of nowhere, claiming my parents had owed them money.
After everything, all I had left was the three thousand dollars from the Gold Rush.
My chest ached. It was hard to breathe.
Three years of sleeping only five hours a night had taken its toll. My body was shutting down.
After buying the medicine I desperately needed, I didn't even have enough left for rent.
Every company I applied to rejected me the moment they heard my name, Kate.
Just when I thought all hope was lost, I got a call for a one-day gig.
When I arrived, I found that my employer was Sierra Vance.
She poured a bucket of water on the floor and ordered me to clean it up on my hands and knees. One of her servants used a thin rod to poke at me while I was bent over.
"Ugh, you stink," Sierra said with a theatrical grimace.
Then she kicked me into the swimming pool and watched me struggle to stay afloat. She threw banknotes at me, which stuck to my now see-through clothes.
When I didn't react, she seemed to get bored.
"Have you no dignity?"
I gathered the money, carefully tucking it away.
"Dignity is a luxury for the rich," I said. "You wouldn't understand."
She smiled slyly. "And this? Does this mean nothing to you?"
I stared in shock at the necklace in her hand. It was the only thing I had left from my mother.
I had given it to Thomas on his birthday.
Something inside me snapped.
I lunged at her, but a strong arm caught me.
Thomas held me back easily, looking at me like I was a misbehaving pet.
"Sierra has a heart condition. Go easy on her."
"How much is the necklace? I'll buy it from her for you."
How much was my cheap, pathetic love worth?
The thought was so ridiculous, I started to laugh.
"Thomas, you promised me forever. That's why I gave you the necklace."
"To me, it's not just a memento from my mother. It was her blessing."
"It's priceless. Do you understand?"
Thomas looked at me, confused.
"If you don't want money, that's fine. I'll take you to a jewelry store. You can pick out whatever you want."
A wave of helplessness washed over me. How had I never realized he was completely incapable of understanding anything?
As he watched in shock, I slowly sank to my knees.
"Miss Vance, please. Give me back my necklace."
A cruel smile played on Sierra's lips.
"Thomas gave it to me. I can do whatever I want with it."
She tossed the necklace to her pet dog.
The dog's sharp teeth snapped down on the delicate chain, breaking it in two.
Shattered. Just like my heart.
I flew into a rage, scrambling on the ground with the dog, fighting for the broken pieces of the necklace.
Thomas was startled, but his body instinctively moved to shield Sierra.
My hands were bleeding, but I clutched the pieces of the necklace to my chest.
I was crying with joy.
A flicker of pity crossed Thomas's eyes, but he didn't help me up. He just frowned.
"I didn't expect that to happen. I'll have someone transfer you some money."
In his world, there was nothing money couldn't fix.
I was done being a rich man's toy.
I looked at him, my eyes clear.
"Thomas, as long as you use money to measure a person's worth, you will never find real love."
I turned and walked away.
The moment his money transfer came through, I bought the first bus ticket out of the state.
I was never coming back to this city.
After Kate left, Thomas stood frozen.
Her words echoed in his mind, unsettling him.
Her hands were still bleeding, her face was deathly pale. Yet, she had walked away with such finality, her back so straight.
It reminded him of how she had stood under the blazing sun in college for two hours, refusing to bow her head.
He had thought back then, if she wasn't after his money, he would find a way to be with her forever.
How could he be sure if a person was truly a gold digger?
He had asked his assistant.
Pretend to be poor, pretend to be sick, the assistant had advised.
So he pretended to be poor. Kate hadn't been disgusted at all. In fact, she had spent her scholarship money to buy him fruit.
Then he pretended to be sick. Kate had worked eight jobs a day and had never once considered leaving him.
But Sierra had told him that women like that were cunning. She probably knew his identity all along and was just putting on a show for him.
He decided to continue testing her. His family's empire was vast; he had to choose its future mistress carefully.
But Kate was too stupid. She didn't understand his intentions.
He pretended not to know her to protect her from being looked down upon.
All his tests were to build a foundation of trust for their future.
Why couldn't she understand?
It didn't matter.
When she ran out of money, she would come back.
He refused to believe that someone who would trade her dignity for money could resist the temptation he offered.
But for some reason, a heavy feeling settled in his chest, and it annoyed him.
Thomas called his assistant.
"Notify all the Gold Rush participants. We're holding a follow-up interview. Everyone who attends gets another fifty thousand."
He didn't believe Kate could resist that.
I used the money Thomas gave me to create a fake death certificate.
To make it more believable, I even bought a burial plot.
I changed my identity, my phone number, everything.
After leaving the city, I returned to my hometown.
It was a small, underdeveloped town with poor transportation. But there was no Hatton Industries here, and no one would pretend to be poor to test me.
I found a job and rented a small house with a garden. I wasn't making a lot of money, but life was peaceful. I spent my days gardening and cooking. It was a quiet, contented existence.
One day, while scrolling through my phone, I saw Thomas on the news.
He was known for his extravagance, and he was offering fifty thousand dollars to each Gold Rush participant who came for an interview.
People flocked to the event.
But Thomas seemed distracted, his eyes scanning the crowd as if searching for someone.
When he couldn't find who he was looking for, his expression soured. He waved his hand and increased the offer to one hundred thousand.
But no matter how long he waited, the person he was looking for never showed up.
On the live broadcast, Thomas's face was cold as he asked, "Where is the participant who collected the most golden rice?"
A staff member, avoiding his gaze, stammered, "Her phone has been disconnected. We can't reach her..."
Thomas finally lost his composure. He opened his contacts, his finger hovering over a certain number. After a long moment, he pressed it.
The call connected to a cold, automated voice.
"The number you have dialed is no longer in service..."
The impatience in his eyes intensified.
Thomas's grip on his phone tightened, the veins in his hand bulging.
"Disconnected her number? Fine."
"Find her. I don't care how much it costs. Turn this entire city upside down, but find her!"
Thomas's men searched for seven days before they found a lead at a hospital.
Kate had been there two weeks ago. She had been diagnosed with late-stage stomach cancer and didn't have long to live.
Two weeks ago. The day I broke up with him.
Thomas clutched the report, a cold smile on his face.
To make him regret it, Kate would go this far.
She worked eight jobs a day without any problems. How could she have stomach cancer?
But then, his men found a gravestone with Kate's name on it in a cemetery.
Thomas's composure finally shattered.
He rushed to the hospital, demanding to speak to the doctor.
The doctor explained that Kate's cancer was caused by prolonged malnutrition, an irregular diet, excessive fatigue, and a compromised immune system.
He suddenly remembered a day when Kate had told him her stomach hurt.
He had dismissed it, telling her to hurry up and get back to work.
He had killed her.
Thomas finally broke.
They say that day, he went to the cemetery and started digging at her grave with his bare hands.
He was going to unearth her body and rebury her in the Hatton family plot. Even in death, he said, she would be with him.
His men tried to reason with him, to tell him to let her rest in peace.

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