My Terminally Ill Boyfriend

My terminally ill boyfriend was the illegitimate son of a wealthy New York dynasty.
And I was just a girl who ran a grill at a street food market.
Joseph Mendel was frail and sickly, and while I supported him, I always gave him the very best of everything I could afford.
But when his family’s twelve Rolls-Royces pulled up to our rundown apartment building to welcome him back into the fold, he abandoned me and took my roommate instead.
When a reporter asked him, "Who is this young lady to you?"
Joseph replied, "Just the maid who's been taking care of me."
Later, he became the revered Mr. Mendel, a titan of New York finance, and I turned around and married his arch-rival.
On my wedding night, Joseph had me abducted.
"Why would you marry that scar-faced monster?" he demanded.
"Because he never treated me like a maid."
Joseph sneered. "Is that all you aspire to be?"
I nodded. "Yes. That's all."

1
The day the Mendel family came for Joseph, twelve Rolls-Royces lined the narrow street to my building.
Reporters armed with cameras and microphones had formed a media circus, blocking the entire entrance. I had to abandon my food cart after my shift and walk the rest of the way.
My neighbor, Vanessa, saw me and grabbed my arm excitedly.
"Stella, you've hit the jackpot! Your Joseph is actually a Mendel heir!"
"The old man sent a whole fleet to bring him home! You're going to be living in luxury!"
As I stood there, stunned, Joseph emerged from the building, flanked by a crowd of men in dark suits.
I had never seen him like this. He wore a perfectly tailored charcoal suit that made him look tall and commanding, exuding an air of aristocratic privilege. He looked like a CEO straight out of a romance novel.
And walking beside him was my roommate, Sienna.
When Joseph’s eyes met mine, the warmth I once knew was gone, replaced by the cool disdain of a superior.
A sharp-eyed reporter pointed his microphone at him. "Mr. Mendel, can you tell us your relationship with this woman?"
Joseph’s gaze slid off me, his voice flat and detached.
"Just the maid who's been taking care of me."
A collective gasp rippled through my neighbors. They had all seen me buying things for him, helping him with his physical therapy. They all knew he was my boyfriend.
In an instant, every eye was on me, a mixture of pity and scorn.
I froze.
I looked down at my ten-dollar t-shirt, my twenty-dollar canvas shoes, and felt the bone-deep weariness of my life settle over me.
I supposed I did look like a maid.
But I had cared for him for five years. Even if he’d just called me his neighbor, I wouldn't have been so utterly humiliated.
He walked toward the lead car. After opening the door for Sienna, he paused as if remembering something and turned back to me.
"You took care of me for a long time. Is there anything you want? I can grant you a reasonable request."
Vanessa nudged me. "Quick! This is your chance! Tell him to take you with him!"
But I didn't move. I numbly held up the paper bag from the pharmacy in my hand.
"Since you're not dying, how about you settle the bill for all the medication I bought you over the years? Oh, and living expenses."
"The total is… ninety-eight thousand, six hundred dollars."
I pulled out my phone, my fingers flying across the calculator as I announced the number.
A wave of snickers went through the crowd. They were mocking my shortsightedness. With Joseph’s new status, what was a mere hundred thousand dollars? I could have asked for millions, and he would have given it.
Joseph frowned, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes, but he quickly instructed his assistant to write me a check.
I glanced at it. One hundred thousand dollars.
He’d even thrown in a little extra.
Sienna, now clinging to his arm, looked at me with a triumphant smirk. "Stella, Joseph is being very generous. But from now on, you two belong to different worlds. I hope you won't be saying anything… inappropriate about him to anyone."
Joseph’s gaze was hard. "I don't want anyone to know you and I were ever connected."
I understood. He was ashamed of me. He was afraid I’d tell the media he was my boyfriend.
Don't worry, I wouldn't. Having a heartless, backstabbing boyfriend isn't exactly something to brag about.
Joseph left. The crowd dispersed.
Only Vanessa remained, fuming on my behalf. "Stella, are you an idiot? What are you going to do with a hundred grand? You can't even buy a decent down payment with that in this city!"
My face was pale. "But that's all he owed me…"
Loving him was my choice.
Taking care of him was my choice.
I had loved the wrong person. I would accept the loss.
Vanessa sighed, poking me in the forehead and calling me a fool.
Back in the apartment, all of Joseph's things were gone. So were Sienna’s. The place was a wreck, as if a tornado had torn through it.
After working all night at the cart, then making an early morning run to the pharmacy for Joseph’s "medication," I was exhausted. I collapsed onto the sofa, unable to move.
"Meow…"
Fatty, my rescue cat, nudged my leg and looked up at me with his big, round eyes.
I dragged myself up to feed him, then started cleaning the apartment.
That evening, I went back to work as usual. Without Joseph, my expenses were minimal. A hundred thousand dollars could last me for years. But I wanted to buy a home, a place of my own.
My grill was the most popular spot in the food truck alley outside the university. The college kids loved my food.
That night, a man in an impeccable suit approached my cart. "Five lamb skewers, ten spicy chicken wings…"
I was used to serving bright-faced college students. It was the first time a man who so clearly radiated wealth had come to my humble cart.
I couldn't help but stare. He was tall, at least six-foot-three, with a lean, powerful build. He was handsome, with a high-bridged nose and deep-set eyes that gave his face a striking, chiseled quality.
A silver Cayenne was parked at the end of the alley, its lights on, a driver waiting inside.
My romance-novel-addled brain immediately concocted a story: a powerful CEO buying a late-night snack for his young college student girlfriend.
I grinned. "You got it! For here or to go?"
I assumed it was to-go and grabbed a take-out container.
"Here," he said, and to my surprise, he found an empty plastic stool and sat down.
He ordered over a hundred dollars' worth of food. I grilled and served, my hands flying. By the time I was finished, I was slick with sweat, and he had devoured every last bite.
"This is good," he said, his voice a low rumble. "How are you with actual cooking?"
I blinked, pointing to myself. "Me?"
"I'm a decent cook. I went to culinary school before I started this cart."
The man immediately pulled a business card from his suit pocket and handed it to me.
"Interested in being my private chef?"
I looked at the card. Adrian Hunt, CEO, Hunt Dynamics.
My gaze turned wary. "Mr. Hunt, you're not trying to… you know… hire me, are you?"
"Fifteen thousand a month."
"Of course, I know a man like you would never do such a thing! Fifteen thousand, you said? I can start tomorrow!"
It wasn't that I was weak. It was that the offer was too good to refuse. To buy a place in New York City on a food cart vendor's income? I'd be working until I died.
The next day, I went to the address on the card, a sprawling mansion in the suburbs.
Adrian Hunt himself answered the door. He was in a gray sweatsuit, clearly just back from a run. He unlocked the wrought-iron gate and led me inside. He was all long legs and broad shoulders, and I had to jog to keep up.
The estate was massive. It took us nearly ten minutes to walk from the gate to the main house. I scanned my surroundings, preparing myself for any… unwanted advances.
Thump.
I walked straight into his back. The impact made my nose throb and my eyes water.
"Sorry, Mr. Hunt! I didn't mean to!"
He turned, a look of exasperation on his face. "Do you honestly think I'm going to do something to you?"
I looked at him, my voice full of disappointment. "You're not?"
He let out a short, humorless laugh. He raised a hand as if to strike me, then stopped himself. "And stop calling me Mr. Hunt. Take a good look. Do you know who I am?"
I squinted at his face. "Nope. Never seen you before."
"Tsk…"
"Seriously. I'm a girl who grills meat for a living. How would I know someone like you? You must have me mistaken for someone else."
So that was it. The job was too good to be true. The powerful CEO had mistaken me for someone else.
Adrian’s jaw clenched. A dangerous smile touched his lips. "Stella Lane. Say you don't know me one more time. I dare you."
When a man like that gets angry, the air turns to ice. I shrank back, my eyes fixed on his handsome face.
An image flashed in my mind: another face, years ago, ravaged by fire, covered in scars.
If you were to remove those scars…
The realization hit me like a physical blow. I knew who he was. I turned and ran.
The next second, a hand clamped around my wrist, yanking me back. My back hit the wall, and Adrian's face was inches from mine. He pinned my wrists above my head, his body caging me in.
"Run, Stella. I'd love to see you try."
I couldn't move. The difference in our strength was too great.
Before Joseph, there had been someone else.
The summer I was seventeen, a new student transferred to our class.
His name was Leo Song, and his face was covered in burn scars.
The other students were afraid of him. They ostracized him. No one would sit with him in the cafeteria. They called him "Scarface" behind his back.
His deskmate demanded a new seat, saying that looking at Leo's face gave her nightmares. The teacher, at a loss, asked if anyone would be willing to sit with him.
His long fingers dug into the edge of his desk, betraying his anxiety.
As the silence stretched, I slowly, hesitantly, raised my hand.
The class erupted in laughter.
"Let Stella sit with him, teach!"
"The Trash Girl and Scarface. A perfect match!"
Back then, my grandmother, who had adopted me, was still alive. She supported us by collecting recyclables. To help her, I would go through the school's trash cans after class, collecting bottles.
My classmates ostracized me too. They said I smelled. Since the beginning of high school, I had always sat alone.
The teacher knew my situation and scolded them, but it was no use. They still called me "Trash Girl."
Now, ignoring their jeers, I clutched the hem of my shirt and asked Leo nervously, "Leo, would you… would you be okay with me being your deskmate?"
I was afraid he would be disgusted by the way I smelled.
But he nodded emphatically. "As long as you're not scared of me, I'd love that."
We became friends. He was brilliant, always at the top of our class. He tutored me, and I brought him my grandmother's homemade rice dumplings. When bullies from another school cornered him, I grabbed a baseball bat and fought them off. When I had no money for lunch, he shared his allowance with me.
In our senior year, he asked me to be his girlfriend. He asked me to apply to the same Ivy League school as him.
I said yes.
But the night before the application deadline, I was working as a waitress at a five-star hotel. I saw Leo there with his family. And with them was a beautiful girl who sat next to him.
As their parents went to the restroom, I overheard them talking about how the girl would be accompanying Leo abroad that summer for his reconstructive surgeries. And when they returned, they would be engaged.
I felt a crushing wave of inferiority.
I went home, changed my university application, and sent Leo a single text: I've fallen for someone else. We're breaking up.
Then, I blocked his number and all his social media accounts.
No one knew where I went to college. And I never heard from Leo Song again.
"If I hadn't seen you in the background of that news report about Joseph Mendel, I still wouldn't know you were back in New York," Adrian said, his voice tight with anger. "The 'someone else'… it was Joseph, wasn't it?"
I never thought he would remember the lie I told him all these years.
I struggled against his grip. "It doesn't matter who it was. I broke up with you, remember?"
"Am I a dog you can just throw away?" he roared.
Just then, the front door opened. A beautiful girl in a designer dress walked in. She looked like a princess. I recognized her. She was the girl from the hotel, all those years ago.
The girl their parents wanted him to marry.
So, he had a fiancée and he was still harassing me?
Did everyone think I was a pushover?
"Stella Lane?" the girl exclaimed, her face lighting up. "Adrian, you finally found her!"
Adrian?
What was their relationship?
Adrian nodded, gesturing to the girl. "This is Clarissa Mendel. Joseph's sister."
"And Stella," he began, but Clarissa had already skipped over and linked her arm with mine.
"I know! Adrian's girlfriend!"
I froze.
He had told everyone I was his girlfriend?
When I was with Joseph, he had been healthy. Then he was in a car accident. He became convinced that the matriarch of the Mendel family was trying to eliminate him, so he started faking his illness to appear non-threatening.
I didn't know. I saved every penny to pay for his check-ups, his medication. Thousands of dollars at a time. I felt that as his girlfriend, it was my responsibility to take care of him, no matter what.
But it was all a lie. He was welcomed back into his family, and he told the world I was just his maid.
A surge of emotion washed over me as I looked at Adrian. Had I misunderstood him all those years ago?
Clarissa leaned in and whispered in my ear, "Adrian may like you, but I'm the one the Hunt family chose to be his fiancée. Take a look at yourself. Do you really think you're good enough for him now? He's not the 'Scarface' he used to be. But you're still the girl who stinks of grilled meat."
I flinched and pulled my arm away.
Clarissa immediately stumbled backward and fell to the floor, her eyes wide and innocent. "Stella, why did you push me?"
My head snapped toward Adrian. This was it. The classic scene from a novel where the innocent heroine is framed by the scheming rival.
But just as I braced myself for his anger, Adrian looked down at Clarissa with a complicated expression.
"Do you think I'm blind?" he said, his voice flat. "Stella didn't even touch you. What's with the drama? I told you not to come here. Now you're putting on a show in front of my girlfriend?"
He took my hand and pulled me into the house, leaving a stunned Clarissa on the floor.
The mansion was staffed with servants, but none of them gave me a second glance. Adrian poured me a glass of water himself and told me to sit.
"Stella, tell me. That text you sent me all those years ago… it was a lie, wasn't it? You weren't in love with someone else."
Yes, and no. The text was a lie. But I did fall in love with someone else later. Joseph pursued me, but I cared for him for five years. There were feelings. I wouldn't deny what I did, even if it turned out to be a mistake.
Clarissa was Joseph's half-sister. Adrian was not engaged to her. It was all just wishful thinking on their parents' part.
I ended up staying at the mansion as Adrian's private chef. He gave me a room right next to his.
I was a little suspicious. That night, I discovered that the bed in my room had no blankets. I went to find the housekeeper.
"Everything for you is arranged by Mr. Hunt personally," she said, her face impassive. "You'll have to ask him."
I reluctantly knocked on Adrian's door.
"Come in."
I pushed the door open. He wasn't in the bedroom, but I could hear the shower running.
He was in the shower and he told me to come in?
Just as I was about to leave, the bathroom door opened. Adrian walked out, a towel slung low on his hips, his upper body bare and glistening with water.
I couldn't help but stare. I wasn't a pervert, but his physique was incredible. His chest was broad, his abs were sharply defined, and the lines of his hips tapered down in a way that was almost indecent. And to make matters worse, he was looking at me with a predatory, fox-like gaze.
After years of being single, I was not equipped to handle this level of temptation. My nose started bleeding.
Adrian was startled. He rushed over, tilted my chin up, and sat me down on the edge of his bed. He grabbed some tissues and gently plugged my nose.
"You're pathetic," he said, a note of disgust in his voice. "Weren't you living with Joseph for five years? You've never seen this before?"
"He wouldn't let me touch him," I mumbled, humiliated.
It was ironic. Joseph had pursued me, but he treated me like I had the plague. Especially after he got "sick." No matter how well I treated him, he was always cold. But he was incredibly attentive to Sienna.
Once, he kept texting me in the middle of the night, asking me to order him a specific brand of bubble tea. It was expensive. Later, I saw Sienna post a picture of the exact same drink on her social media. I realized he was ordering it for her.
I was furious. I came home from work to find Sienna curled up against him on the sofa, both of them playing a video game. I pulled her away and confronted him.
"Why do you flinch whenever I touch you, but you let her get so close? Who is your girlfriend, me or her?"
Joseph covered his nose. "You come home smelling of grease and smoke every day. It's disgusting."
"Stella, don't misunderstand," Sienna added sweetly. "Joseph and I are just friends. He thinks of me as one of the guys."
That morning, I took the longest shower of my life. I even considered quitting my job. But then Joseph texted me: The medication this month is a thousand dollars. Transfer the money.
I was heartbroken. I didn't send it.
He texted again: I knew it. You think I'm a burden. You don't want to pay for my treatment anymore. Fine. I'll just go die.
I panicked, closed up my cart, and rushed home, only to find the Mendel family's representatives there to take him away.
The reason was simple. The Mendel family heir, Joseph’s older brother, had died of bone cancer. Joseph was now the only male heir of his generation. His grandfather would not allow him to remain an outcast any longer.
I thought Adrian would mock me when he heard the story.
But instead, his eyes were full of pain for me. He pulled me into a tight embrace.
"Stella," he whispered. "Tell me everything that's happened to you."
There wasn't much to tell. I had changed my university choice and gone to a school as far from New York as I could get. In my sophomore year, I met Joseph.
He came from a single-parent home and lived on a meager allowance. While his roommates wore designer sneakers, he had worn the same ten-dollar pair for two years. I was already working part-time, not only supporting myself but also sending money home to my grandmother.
I was an orphan, abandoned as a baby. My grandmother was the only family I had ever known. Then, one day, she was gone. She was hit by a car while collecting recyclables and died at the hospital.
My world collapsed. I had sworn I would give her a life of comfort. She had promised me she would live a long life. How could she break her promise?
It was Joseph who took time off school to go with me, to help me with the funeral arrangements, to encourage me to keep going.
My grandmother's settlement was thirty thousand dollars. It all went into my bank account.
When we returned to school, Joseph started pursuing me.

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