The Wishing Well Deception

At our company retreat, the new intern Finn won the grand prize, a luxury Swiss watch, and whispers spread. Some called him lucky. Others wondered how someone with his background got hired here. There was talk that he had closed a key account in just a week and that a wealthy CEO girlfriend spoiled him endlessly.

I stood by, stirring my drink, filled with bitterness. As a Stanford graduate and top performer, I kept missing promotions due to odd setbacks. I swallowed my pride each time because my bedridden girlfriend relied on me. Her care drained me financially, and I had even given up bonuses just to keep my job and insurance.

Later, needing air, I stepped outside and saw Finn on the phone in the garden, beaming. "I only wished for that watch yesterday," he laughed. "Did you set this up?"

A woman's voice, elegant and amused, came through the speaker: "Dont be silly. You're my little lucky star."

The tumbler I had won as a consolation prize fell from my hand and hit the ground with a clatter.

I knew that voice. It was Diana's. The same woman I bathed and turned every night in her hospital bed.

1 Before my brain could even process the sound, Finn ended the call.

He turned around, saw me standing there, and scratched the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. "Oh, hey Jake. What are you doing out here?"

I forced the corners of my mouth up. "Just getting some air. Wrapped up your call?"

"Yeah." He waved his phone, the tips of his ears turning a faint pink. "That was my girl. She insists I won the watch purely on luck, but I swear she secretly pulled some strings."

"Your girl... what exactly does she do?"

He blinked, adopting a secretive little smirk. "She's just a regular working-class girl, honestly."

"But I feel like she's hiding something from me," he continued. "Did you know this watch just hit the market? You can only get it at exclusive boutiques. I mentioned it to her exactly once. Isn't that crazy?"

He leaned in a little closer. "Jake, do you think all women like to play poor just to test their boyfriends?"

A regular working-class girl.

Playing poor.

I thought about my actual poor girlfriend, and my mind completely blanked. A sudden, violent wave of nausea hit my stomach. I couldn't breathe.

Finn noticed my face draining of color. "Jake? Are you okay? You look like a ghost."

I swallowed the bile rising in my throat and forced another weak smile. "I'm fine. Just had a bit too much to drink. Feel a little sick."

He nodded, not prying further. He was too caught up in his own perfect world.

"I really think she's my personal wishing well," he rambled on. "With my resume, I never should have gotten into this firm. I made one passing comment to her about applying, and the very next day HR sent me an offer."

"And get this. Even though she's always stuck in the hospital, I told her last week I needed a new phone. The next morning, her driver dropped the latest model off at my front door."

I stared at his bright, beaming face, my ears ringing. The only word echoing in my skull was hospital.

Something tight and painful twisted in my chest. I couldn't stop myself from asking.

"Wait. You said she's in the hospital?"

"Yeah." Finn laughed lightly. "It's nothing serious. Just a minor health thing."

A minor health thing. The air left my lungs in a quiet rush of relief.

That didn't match Diana's severe spinal issues. Not even close.

I gave a slow nod. "If she's arranging all this for you from a hospital bed, she must really care about you."

"That's what everyone says." He rubbed the back of his neck again. "Anyway, I gotta run. My girl said she wants to celebrate tonight. See ya."

I stood frozen in the cool evening breeze.

I looked at the multi-million dollar watch strapped to his healthy, youthful wrist. Then I looked down at my own hands. My lower back ached a dull, persistent pain from three years of lifting and turning Diana in her bed. I didn't own a single decent accessory.

The gap between two people's lives could be an absolute abyss.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. A text from Diana.

[How was the retreat? Did you have fun?]

I stared at the glowing screen. Out of pure habit, I typed a cheerful lie.

[It was great. I even won a nice tumbler.]

The truth was, everyone who didn't win a real prize was handed a tumbler.

[Well, at least you didn't leave empty-handed. I'll buy you something much better in the future.]

The future.

She had been feeding me that word for three years, and like a fool, I always swallowed it down. We were broke now, but the doctors said her condition was curable. She just needed two more years of intense rehabilitation.

All I had to do was grit my teeth and push through.

I locked my screen and headed toward the street to pick up the custom cake I had ordered.

Another message popped up.

[It's getting late. Just go home and rest tonight. Don't come all the way here, I don't want you exhausting yourself.]

I stared at the words, my thumb hovering over the glass.

Today was my birthday.

We had made plans an entire week ago. I was supposed to bring home a raffle prize as my own gift, buy a cake, and celebrate in her room.

Did she forget?

I hesitated for a long moment, but I still went to the bakery. I picked up the box, stood on the curb, and flagged down a cab.

"Mercy General, please."

When I stepped off the elevator and approached the nurses' station, the night-shift nurse glanced up. All the color instantly drained from her face.

"M-Mr. Jake?"

2 She shot out of her chair so fast it nearly tipped over backward. "What are you doing here?"

"Visiting hours," I said simply.

"It's so late." Her eyes darted nervously toward Room 606. Her voice was tight. "Diana is already asleep. Maybe you should come back tomorrow."

"It's my birthday today." I took two steps forward, my tone even. "It won't mean anything if I wait until tomorrow."

She stepped out from behind the desk, physically blocking my path.

I stared at her. My chest tightened. In three years, the staff had never once stopped me from walking into that room.

"I'm just going to take a quick look."

I sidestepped her, walking straight down the hall, and pushed open the door to Room 606.

I froze.

The bed was perfectly made. Empty.

The nurse ran in behind me, panting heavily.

"Where is she?" I turned around, my eyes locking onto hers.

She forced an agonizingly fake smile. "Diana had to... she had to go down for a late-night scan."

"A late-night scan?" I frowned, the unease in my gut twisting tighter. "A minute ago you said she was asleep. And since when does her treatment plan include midnight scans?"

The nurse avoided my gaze, her fingers fidgeting. "I just remembered the schedule."

Before she could invent another excuse, my phone erupted in a violent vibration.

It was my department director. A massive crisis with our current project. Everyone was ordered back to the office immediately.

I closed my eyes. This project was tied to a two-hundred-thousand-dollar bonus.

I gritted my teeth, shoving the bakery box into the nurse's hands.

"Please. When she gets back, give this to her. Tell her she has to eat it. Inside there is..."

I stopped myself. I didn't finish the sentence.

Inside that cake was a diamond ring. I had saved up three months of my salary to buy it. I wanted to propose to her on my birthday. I wanted to give her the security she always cried about lacking, to prove I would never abandon her.

The baker had buried it deep in the sponge. Digging it out now would ruin the whole thing.

An ordinary guy's proposal didn't need to be some grand spectacle. The intention was what mattered.

The nurse looked overwhelmingly relieved to have me leaving. "Of course, Mr. Jake. I'll make sure she eats it."

The second I rushed into the office, my directors message popped up on my screen.

"The rest of the team has kids and families to get home to, or they lack the technical skills. I need you to rewrite the entire proposal. Thanks for stepping up."

I let out a long, exhausted breath.

It was always like this. Every single emergency, every impossible deadline fell squarely on my shoulders. Everyone else had a wife, a husband, kids, aging parents. And me? My parents passed away years ago, I had no kids, and my girlfriend was confined to a hospital bed.

"Thanks for stepping up" was corporate code for "you have no life, so do the work."

And despite all this, I was the one constantly ending up on the chopping block during layoff season.

I sank into my chair and started rewriting the data.

I worked in a brutal, caffeine-fueled haze until three in the morning. Finally, my director sent a one-line reply. "Never mind, the client decided to go with the original version."

I stared at the blinding white screen. A bitter, hollow laugh escaped my lips.

I pulled out my phone and sent Diana a text.

[Emergency at work. Couldn't make it. Please make sure you eat the cake.]

My brain was entirely fried. I hit send, crossed my arms on my desk, and passed out right there.

When dawn broke, the office slowly filled with the hum of arriving coworkers. I bolted upright and immediately checked my phone.

No new messages. Not a single "Happy Birthday."

My heart sank like a stone.

"Morning, Jake!"

Finn dropped his designer leather bag onto the desk next to mine. "Everything get sorted with the project last night?"

I blinked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. He was in a completely different division. How did he know about my project emergency?

Before I could ask, a notification flashed across the company-wide chat.

[Mandatory morning assembly. Attendance required.]

My pulse jumped. A few days ago, the regional director pulled me into his office. He praised my numbers and heavily implied the open Vice President slot in Division One was practically mine.

They were going to announce it today.

"Another meeting." Finn groaned, rolling his eyes as he headed for the door. He clapped me on the shoulder as he passed. "Let's go, Jake. Better not be late."

I shook off my exhaustion and followed him into the conference room.

The moment I stepped through the double doors, the atmosphere felt entirely wrong.

"There he is," someone whispered loudly.

"You gotta feel bad for the guy. Working a corporate job all day and moonlighting as a male nurse all night. No wonder he looks half-dead."

"Milking the company for overtime pay isn't enough, he has to work two jobs? Isn't moonlighting a fireable offense here?"

I frowned, my chest tightening. They were talking about me.

3 When the company did its last round of layoffs, I surrendered my right to overtime pay just to keep my position. Between my daytime hours and spending every night at the hospital caring for Diana, I barely had time to sleep.

I definitely didn't have time for a second job.

The HR Director stepped up to the podium, tapping the microphone. He gave a brief corporate speech before pulling out the promotion list.

I held my breath. For once, there were no data leaks, no client back-outs, no mysterious blunders attached to my name. I was finally going to get the title and the salary I bled for.

Then the HR Director spoke, and his words hit me like a bucket of ice water.

"The new Vice President of Division One is Finn!"

The room fell dead silent for a second before polite, scattered applause broke out.

Finn stood up, flashing a brilliant, humble smile as he bowed slightly to the room.

"Why?"

I shot up from my seat. My chair scraped violently across the hardwood floor.

The HR Director pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, his expression entirely devoid of sympathy. "Jake, do you have an issue with this decision?"

He paused, likely realizing that ignoring my track record outright would look terrible.

"You are a highly capable employee. On paper, you are more than qualified for the VP role. However, moonlighting as an outside caregiver violates your employment contract."

"I am not moonlighting," I argued, my voice echoing in the quiet room.

Before I could finish, the projector screen behind him flickered to life.

It was a slideshow of photographs. Me, leaning over a hospital bed. Me, wiping a patient's face with a warm towel. Me, massaging someone's atrophied legs.

They didn't capture Diana's face clearly, but the man doing the grueling, intimate work was undeniably me.

The words died in my throat.

When the assembly ended, the crowd filtered out in small, gossiping groups.

Finn strolled over to me, lowering his voice to a sympathetic hum. "Jake, I've heard so much about you. Stanford grad, hardest worker in the building. Everyone knows you're the absolute best."

He offered a soft, almost innocent smile. "Just yesterday, I was telling my girl how nice it would be to have the best employee in the company working under me. That way, I could sleep in a little later."

"And look at that. Today I'm the VP. I'm your boss."

His eyes sparkled with amusement. "Crazy coincidence, right? You think my girl set this up too?"

I slowly raised my head to look at him.

My eyes dragged away from my phone screen, where a new email from HR had just dropped.

[Notice of Reassignment: North African Branch]

It felt like someone had shoved a fistful of cotton down my windpipe. I couldn't speak.

I didn't even wait for the clock to hit five. I walked out of the building, hailed a cab, and headed straight for Mercy General.

All I could think about on the ride over was how I was going to explain this to Diana.

The promotion I had promised her was gone. Instead, I had a one-way ticket to a developing country.

I pushed open the door to Room 606. She was lying in bed, the white blanket pulled up to her chest.

She looked mildly surprised to see me. "Jake? Isn't it the middle of the workday? What are you doing here?"

I didn't say a word.

"What's wrong? Did someone give you a hard time?" She pushed herself up slightly, patting the edge of the mattress. "Come sit. I'm here. Who messed with you?"

A sharp burn stung the back of my eyes.

I was half a second away from telling her everything. That I was refusing the transfer. That I was going to quit and find something else.

But I swallowed the words down. She was recovering. I couldn't pile my failures onto her fragile health.

"I took some time off. Just wanted to see you."

I pulled up a plastic chair and sat down, my eyes dropping to the blanket covering her motionless legs. "How are you feeling today?"

"Alright." She coughed softly. "Physical therapy was exhausting."

I nodded.

My mind drifted to last night. To the cake. My gaze shifted to her right hand resting on the sheets. To her ring finger.

My heart skipped a violent beat.

She was wearing a ring.

"Jake," she murmured, reaching out to cup my hand. "You worked all night again, didn't you? You sacrifice so much for me."

"When I'm completely better, I'll never let you suffer like this again. You can do whatever you want. You won't have to take orders from anyone."

She had recited that exact script for three years. And every time, it made the exhaustion feel worth it.

Even though she hadn't mentioned my birthday once.

It didn't matter. She was wearing the ring. That was all the answer I needed.

"Yeah." I nodded gently, my thumb brushing against the cool metal on her finger.

I slowly turned the band around, my chest tight with emotion. "Diana, there's something I've been meaning to ask you. Let's get mar"

The words froze on my tongue.

I stared at the jewelry.

This wasn't the ring I bought.

"What is it?" she asked, sensing my sudden rigidity.

I stood up so fast the chair wobbled. "Nothing. Nothing... I have to get back to the office. I only took a two-hour lunch."

She nodded and told me to be careful on the way back.

I practically sprinted out of the hospital room. I closed the door, my ears buzzing with white noise.

When it rains, it pours. My life was becoming a tragic comedy.

The baker must have lost the ring I gave him and panicked, buying a cheap replica to hide in the cake instead. He had no idea what he had done.

The ring I bought had the numbers "328" hand-engraved on the inner band. It was the date of our anniversary. It meant everything.

Ten minutes into my cab ride back to the office, I reached into my pocket and realized my desk keys were missing. I had left them on the plastic chair in Diana's room.

I rubbed my temples. "Driver, turn around. Back to the hospital."

The cab idled outside the main entrance. I jogged up the stairs, navigating the familiar sterile corridors.

I reached Room 606 and raised my hand to push the door.

Voices drifted from the crack in the doorway. Voices that had no business being in a patient's room.

4 I froze in my tracks.

"Ms. Diana, everything you requested has been handled."

"Jake's promotion was successfully intercepted. The VP title was given to Finn."

"You and Finn were out together yesterday and Jake nearly caught you. Thankfully, you know Jake's habits perfectly. You had me watching him like a hawk. The second he showed up at the hospital, I had his director call him back to the office for emergency revisions."

"And just like the previous times, the leaked proposals, the clients backing out, the slashed budgets... all executed exactly to your orders."

"The goal remains the same. Ensure his bank account is drained perfectly to cover your 'medical expenses.' Make sure he never saves a single dime."

I stood in the hallway, my knees threatening to buckle beneath me.

Ms. Diana?

Intercepted?

Never saves a single dime...

I clenched my fists so hard my nails bit into my palms. I clamped my jaw shut to keep from making a sound.

"That big project he just finished was supposed to carry a two-hundred-thousand-dollar bonus. I had HR freeze it. He's only getting two thousand."

Silence stretched inside the room for a few agonizing seconds.

Then, Diana's voice cut through the air.

It wasn't weak. It wasn't sick. It was cold, steady, and sharp. "Good."

"But, Ms. Diana," Marcus, her assistant, sounded slightly hesitant. "How much longer do you plan on keeping up this act?"

"With Jake's resume and work ethic, if he were at any other firm, he'd be a senior executive by now. He genuinely thinks he's just cursed with bad luck."

"But we both know there's no curse. It's just us, ruining his life behind the scenes."

"Honestly, the fact that he's endured this for three years without breaking... his devotion is incredible."

Diana was quiet for a long moment before she replied with chilling indifference.

"I originally planned to test him for two more years. See if he could survive five years of pressure."

"But Finn is young and naive. He just entered the corporate world, he needs guidance. I need to resume my actual identity as soon as possible."

Marcus probed gently, "And if Jake discovers that you are actually the CEO of the entire company?"

"Didn't I tell you to issue his transfer to the North African branch? Effective in twenty-four hours."

Her tone was casual, yet horribly confident.

"The timeline is impossible. He refuses to leave my bedside, so there's no way he'll take the transfer. He'll voluntarily resign to stay in the city. Once he's out of the company, he'll never figure out who I really am."

I stood outside the door. My blood ran like ice water through my veins.

A moment later, I pulled my phone from my pocket. I opened the email from HR, typed a single sentence, and hit send.

[I accept the transfer.]

Inside the room, Diana leaned comfortably against her pillows.

She stared down at the silver band resting on her ring finger.

Marcus followed her gaze and asked carefully, "When you ordered me to buy an exact replica of the ring hidden inside the cake last night, do you think Jake noticed?"

Diana didn't answer.

"Finn is so playful. He insisted on digging the ring out of the cake to play with it," Marcus chose his words with extreme caution. "And then he accidentally dropped it down the toilet."

"But that ring... considering Jake hid it inside his own birthday cake, it must have meant the world to him..."

"I know," she cut him off sharply.

She pulled the replica off her finger and tossed it onto the nightstand. "Now is not the time."

She picked up the set of keys resting on the chair. The keychain was a faded, scuffed little basketball. A gift she had given him the day they made things official. It was so worn the original colors were entirely gone.

Careless man. He'd probably come rushing back for them soon.

"You should leave before he sees you," she told Marcus.

"Understood... Oh, right, Ms. Diana." Marcus paused at the door. "You feigned this illness for three years to lay low and force your cousin into a false sense of security."

"But he was arrested last month. Your exile is over. Eleanor expects you back at the family estate tomorrow."

"I know."

She worked on her laptop late into the night. When she finally rubbed her eyes and checked the time, she realized the owner of those keys had never returned.

Frowning, she snapped a picture of the keychain and texted him.

[Jake, I have your keys!]

No response.

She glanced out at the pitch-black sky, assuming he had passed out from exhaustion again.

The next morning, she left the hospital early to attend high-level family meetings at her estate. By the time she returned to Room 606, it was three in the afternoon.

She unlocked her phone.

The chat history was dead silent. Not even a punctuation mark in reply.

He had gone an entire twenty-four hours without checking in. That had never happened before.

As she stared at the screen, her phone suddenly began ringing frantically.

It was the Director of Operations. His voice was hoarse with panic.

"Ms. Diana, it's a disaster!"

"Riots broke out in North Africa. A militant group bombed the branch headquarters."

"The employee who just transferred from New York... he was killed in the blast."

5 Diana was silent for two excruciating seconds.

Her voice came out as cold and rigid as steel. "Have the security division handle it. Issue the payouts. Manage the family's grief."

"Yes, ma'am..."

She hung up the phone before he could finish.

"Diana!"

Finn practically kicked the door open, strutting inside. He carried a heavy thermos, his face plastered with sheer triumph.

"I got the VP spot! I made you some bone broth to celebrate. It's supposed to be great for recovery."

Diana pressed the power button on her phone, tossing it onto the sheets.

Finn set the thermos on the bedside table, laughing brightly. "I swear, everything I tell you comes true. The universe just loves me!"

He unscrewed the lid, the smell of mediocre soup filling the room. "Try it. I spent all afternoon making this."

Diana took the bowl, took a small sip, and set it down. "It's fine."

Finn looked at her, his eyes shining with adoration. "Then I'll make it for you every single day. How does that sound?"

Diana didn't answer.

It sounded awful. It tasted like dishwater compared to the meals Jake cooked for her. Over the years, Jake had completely ruined her palate for anything else. Even the Michelin-starred chefs her family employed couldn't recreate the warmth in his cooking.

"Oh, right," Finn said, noticing her blank stare. "Didn't you promise that once I got promoted, you had a massive secret to tell me?"

Two sharp knocks interrupted them.

Marcus stepped into the room holding a sleek leather folder. "Ms. Diana, the paperwork is finalized."

"Your discharge papers, along with the corporate press release, are ready. The board of directors has been notified of your official return."

Diana offered a faint, dismissive "Mhm."

Finn stood frozen, his eyes wide as saucers. "Diana... what did he just call you? Ms. Diana? Like... the CEO?"

Marcus offered a thin, patronizing smile. "Finn, did you honestly believe a regular working-class girl would have a personal executive assistant?"

"Ms. Diana is the Chief Executive Officer of this firm. She has merely been... on sabbatical these past few years."

Finn stared at the documents in Marcus's hands. "So... the promotions, the transfers, me getting hired..."

"All orchestrated by the CEO," Marcus finished for her.

Finn turned slowly to look at Diana, the tips of his ears burning bright red. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Dianas tone remained flat. "I'm telling you now. Starting tomorrow, I am returning to the Manhattan office in my full capacity."

"Keep your head down and do the work. From now on, you'll have to earn your keep."

Finn bit his lip, dropping his gaze to the floor. His fingers nervously twisted the hem of his designer shirt.

After a long, suffocating silence, he asked in a small voice, "What about your boyfriend? Does he know?"

Diana didn't answer the question.

She simply picked up the battered basketball keychain resting on the nightstand, her thumb brushing over the scuffed rubber.

"He's a sensible man. He'll understand."

Finn nodded quietly.

Once the room was empty, Diana picked up her phone. She opened her chat with Jake and typed out a message.

[Jake, why are you ignoring me?]

[The doctors said I'm practically fully recovered. I'm being discharged tomorrow.]

She hit send and stared at the screen, waiting for the little typing bubble to appear. Waiting for the flood of joyful, relieved messages he always sent.

Nothing.

She tossed the phone back onto the table.

He was probably just stressing over finding a new job. Trying to hide his unemployment from her so she wouldn't worry. He had a terrible habit of carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and smiling through it.

Once he saw the text, he would be ecstatic. His one true dream in life was for her to walk again.

He wanted them to sit in a bustling diner and eat a hot meal together. He wanted to walk through a grocery store without checking his watch. He wanted to hold her hand walking down the sidewalk like a normal couple.