She Said Money Couldn't Buy Love

For our fifth anniversary, I bought Luna a Porsche 91

The next day, she posted a tearful video on TikTok, accusing me of using my foul, capitalistic wealth to trample all over her desire for pure love.

Her entire girl squad frantically reposted it, tearing into me as a shallow upstart who only knew how to throw money around, completely devoid of romance. Watching her cry so tragically in the video, I just found it utterly absurd.

If she hated money so much, then I'd retract all her privileges. I'd prepare a "no-expenses-spared," "true-heart-only" romance for her.

Later, facing mountains of waste paper and crippling debt, she knelt, clutching my leg.

"Ethan, I don't want romance anymore! Please, just give me back the money..."

1

It was three in the morning, and my phone screen was flickering with countless notifications.

Not work emails or reports, but a frantic stream of @-mentions from TikTok.

I rubbed my throbbing temples and swiped to unlock.

The first thing I saw was a video with over a hundred thousand likes.

Posted by: Luna's Fairytale Town.

My girlfriend of five years, Luna.

The video's thumbnail was her tear-streaked face, eyes red-rimmed, with a broken, desperate look in her eyes. It was overlaid with a stark, attention-grabbing caption:

[My fifth anniversary, and I received the most devastating gift.]

I tapped on the video.

On screen, Luna sat in the driver's seat of a brand-new Porsche 911, clutching a car key. It was the car I'd picked up with her just yesterday, costing close to $250,000.

But she wasn't smiling.

She faced the camera, tears streaming down her face like pearls.

"Guys, today marks five years with my boyfriend."

"I thought, for such an important five-year anniversary, he'd prepare a surprise full of memories. Even if it was just an origami crane he folded himself, or a letter he wrote for me, or even just taking me back to that little cafe where we had our first coffee."

"But no. Nothing."

She held up the key, emblazoned with the Porsche emblem, her eyes filled with disgust and hurt.

"He took me to the dealership, swiped his card, picked up the car, and then said to me: 'Like it? Drive it home yourself.'"

"In that moment, my heart completely died."

"A $250,000 car, sounds impressive, right? But to me, it's just a pile of cold steel! It has no warmth, no soul, and absolutely no love!"

"I asked him, 'Don't you have anything else to say to me? Don't you have a thoughtful gift?'"

"He actually snapped impatiently: 'Are you serious? This car isn't good enough? Other people would kill for this, don't be so dramatic.'"

Luna in the video took a deep breath, her tears splashing onto the steering wheel.

"I just broke down. In his eyes, what am I? Am I just a plaything he can buy off with money?"

"I, Luna, have never wanted money! What I want is thoughtfulness, sincerity, that kind of deep, unwavering choice, that cherished romance!"

"Am I wrong? I just want a pure love, why is it so hard? This money-grubbing relationship, it's truly driving me insane..."

The video cut off there.

I watched the screen in silence. My heart didn't ache as it usually did for her tears. Instead, an unspeakable wave of nausea washed over me.

In the video, she conveniently forgot to mention that this car was her "dream car," one she'd seen someone else driving on the street two weeks ago and had been dropping hints about incessantly ever since.

She also conveniently forgot to mention how many strings I'd pulled, and how much extra I'd paid, to get the car delivered by our anniversary.

And she definitely didn't mention that my "don't be dramatic" comment was because she'd thrown a huge tantrum at the dealership, humiliating me, simply because the sales staff hadn't prepared pink delivery flowers for her.

In her video, I was nothing but a nouveau riche trampling on a pure maiden's true heart.

And she? A hypocritical saint, untainted by the world, seeking only true love.

I clicked on the comment section.

The public outcry was in full swing, my name being slandered everywhere.

[OMG, Luna, don't cry! This chauvinistic jerk who only knows how to throw money around doesn't deserve you!]

[$250,000 to buy five years of youth? What does this guy think love is? A transaction? So disgusting!]

[This is the face of capitalism! Thinking money can buy everything, no respect for women at all!]

[Support Luna breaking up! My boyfriend might only make a few grand a month, but he'll bring me soup when I'm sick at midnight, or make me a ring out of a soda can. That's priceless romance! Money is nothing!]

[Girl, run! This type of guy secretly looks down on you, thinks you're just after his money. You deserve a good man who understands you, cherishes you, and is willing to put effort into you!]

[I found him! His name is Ethan Hayes, he's the owner of a tech company. Ha, figures! The richer they are, the colder their hearts!]

[@EthanHayes, come apologize! You owe Luna her youth!]

I scrolled down expressionlessly.

Among the top-liked comments, I saw a few familiar IDs.

Brittany, Tiffany.

Luna's two "besties."

Brittany commented: [As Luna's best friend, I truly can't stand it. Ethan, it's bad enough you emotionally abuse Luna normally, but to humiliate her like this on your fifth anniversary? Do you have any idea how many times she pricked her fingers knitting you that scarf?]

Tiffany commented: [Exactly! Luna is a girl with a rich inner world; she needs a soulmate! Your dirty money will only tarnish her world! Just let her go already!]

And what I found most ridiculous was the third top comment.

ID: PeacefulYears.

That was Luna's mother, Sharon.

She replied to a netizen's comment: "Sigh, my Luna has always been too protected by me since she was little, so pure-hearted, never fighting for anything, just full of romantic fantasies. I told her long ago that Ethan is too materialistic, too pragmatic, he can't give her the emotional fulfillment she craves. But my girl is just so headstrong, always has to learn the hard way..."

"Pure-hearted."

"Never fighting for anything." How ironic.

I stared at that comment, so furious I almost laughed.

I remembered three years ago, Sharon, citing "lack of security," forced me to buy a luxury apartment in the city center, putting only Luna's name on the deed.

I remembered two years ago, when Sharon's brother got married, she hinted that as the "future son-in-law," I should contribute a huge cash gift of $90,000.

I remembered last month, Sharon went on a European trip and maxed out my supplementary credit card, which had a 0-000,000 limit.

Now, she was on the internet, calling me materialistic, pragmatic, and saying I couldn't provide her daughter with emotional fulfillment.

I tossed my phone onto the couch, walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, and lit a cigarette.

Outside, the city's most bustling nightscape glittered.

Through the haze of smoke, I suddenly felt that these five years of our relationship were nothing but a ridiculous circus.

I'd poured everything into elevating her and her family to a pedestal. Yet, they stood there, looking down at me with pity, calling me tainted by money, unworthy of their elegance.

Well, if that's how it is.

If money's so dirty.

Then, as you wish.

2

The next morning, the apartment doorbell rang incessantly.

I opened the door to find Luna standing outside.

She was wearing a pure white flowy linen dress, her long hair draped over her shoulders, eyes swollen red, looking as if a gust of wind could knock her over.

Behind her, standing like guardians, were Brittany and Tiffany.

As soon as I opened the door, Brittany launched the first attack, rushing up like a protective mother hen.

"Ethan! Are you even a man? Luna cried all night, and you didn't even call? Didn't reply to a single SnapChat? Are you trying to kill her?!"

Tiffany's face was cold as she chimed in: "Ethan, don't think you can do whatever you want just because you have a few bucks. Love isn't a transaction! Your attitude at the dealership yesterday severely wounded Luna's self-respect!"

Luna didn't speak, just bit her lower lip, looking at me with tear-filled eyes, a mix of three parts grievance and seven parts resentment.

If this were before, seeing her like this, I would have softened immediately. I would have rushed to hug her, apologized profusely, and then taken her shopping for bags, for jewelry, until she smiled again.

But today, I simply watched their performance in silence.

"So?" I flicked my cigarette ash, my voice calm, without a ripple of emotion.

My composure stunned all three of them.

Brittany's eyes widened, as if she'd seen some incredible monster: "So? You're asking me 'so'? Ethan, do you have no heart?! Luna is getting so much sympathy online; as her boyfriend, shouldn't you be reflecting on your own problems?"

"Reflecting on what?" I looked at Luna. "Reflecting that I shouldn't have bought you a Porsche?"

Luna's body trembled slightly, and her tears instantly gushed forth.

"Ethan! Don't you understand by now?!" she screamed, her voice hoarse. "I don't want a Porsche! I don't want those expensive luxury goods! All I want is your true heart! All I want is romance you prepare with your own effort! Why don't you ever understand me?!"

"That's right, Ethan," Tiffany passive-aggressively chimed in. "Look at those boyfriends in the TikTok videos; they'll stay up all night making handmade gifts, they'll fill an entire room with balloons for their girlfriends' surprises. What about you? Besides bank transfers, besides swiping cards, what else can you do? Your half-hearted attitude is a complete desecration of love!"

I looked at Tiffany.

I distinctly remember last month, for Tiffany's birthday, Luna used my card to pick out an $8,000 Hermes bag for her. Back then, Tiffany posted nine pictures on Twitter, gushing about her "amazing bestie" and "best guy ever."

Now, she stood here, righteously accusing me of desecrating love.

"I understand," I nodded, stubbing out my cigarette.

"You understand what?" Brittany eyed me suspiciously. "Don't think you can just brush us off. I'm telling you, Luna is truly heartbroken this time. If you don't take some concrete action to make amends, this isn't over!"

"Concrete action?" I chuckled softly. "Like what?"

Brittany immediately answered, as if she'd prepared her lines: "Next month is Luna's birthday. This is your last chance to redeem yourself! If you dare to trick her again with those tacky designer bags or sports cars, we'll make Luna break up with you for good!"

"Exactly!" Tiffany added. "This birthday has to be pure! It has to be romantic! It has to be untainted by even a hint of vulgar money! You need to use your own hands, your own heart, to prove your love to Luna! Understand?"

Luna stood behind them, saying nothing, but her eyes were full of expectation and tacit approval.

She was expecting me to act like a trained dog, racking my brain to create some so-called "romance" to please her.

I looked at their three righteously indignant faces and suddenly felt an unprecedented sense of ease.

"Alright," I smiled faintly, my tone gentle. "I promise you."

Luna's eyes lit up, a flicker of triumphant joy in their depths.

"Ethan..." She stepped forward, gently tugging my sleeve, her voice softening. "I didn't mean to talk about you online; I just desperately wanted you to understand me. Please don't be mad at me, okay?"

"I'm not mad," I looked into her eyes, enunciating each word. "You want pure, no-money, true-heart romance, right?"

"Mhm!" Luna nodded vigorously, like an innocent girl.

"For your birthday next month, I'll prepare a romance you'll never forget," I gently stroked her hair. "Absolutely untainted by any hint of vulgar money. I promise."

Luna's tears turned to a smile, and she threw herself into my arms.

Brittany and Tiffany exchanged glances, also revealing satisfied smiles.

They thought they had successfully "trained" a rich, clueless guy.

They thought that at the birthday party next month, they would see me act like a clown, using all sorts of pathetic tactics to curry favor with them.

But they had no idea.

The game had only just begun.

3

After seeing them off, I returned to my study and opened my laptop.

Since it had to be "pure," since it had to be "unconventional," I needed to commit to the act fully.

First, I called Mr. Davis, the car dealership manager.

"Mr. Davis, I'm not satisfied with the 911 I picked up yesterday."

Mr. Davis was startled on the other end of the line: "Mr. Hayes, is there something wrong with the car? Please tell us, we'll send someone to deal with it immediately!"

"It's not the car," my tone was flat. "My girlfriend thinks it's too vulgar, unworthy of her elegant soul. Please send someone over to take the car back."

Mr. Davis paused, not reacting for a long moment: "Huh? But... Mr. Hayes, the car has already been registered. If you return it now, it can only be valued as a used car..."

"It doesn't matter," I cut him off. "Whatever the depreciation, it's on me. Get the car out of my apartment complex's garage today."

After hanging up, I opened my banking app.

I found the supplementary credit card Luna always carried, the one with the 0-000,000 limit.

Tap. Freeze.

Next, I called my CFO, Mr. Miller.

"Mr. Miller, please liquidate the accounts for the 'Starlight Cafe' under my name."

The 'Starlight Cafe' was a venture I'd fully funded for Luna two years ago when she impulsively said she wanted to open a coffee shop.

From selecting the location to the interior design, from equipment to coffee bean suppliers, everything used top-tier resources.

To satisfy her vanity as an "independent female entrepreneur," I not only made her the legal representative of the cafe but also gave her the title of "manager."

In reality, the cafe was bleeding money every month because she was only focused on taking photos for social media and inviting her besties for free afternoon tea. All the losses were secretly covered by my main company.

Mr. Miller hesitated slightly on the phone: "Mr. Hayes, that store has a monthly funding gap of about $40,000. If we liquidate now..."

"Cut off all financial support from the main company to it," I commanded coldly. "From today, the cafe's rent, utilities, employee salaries, and supplier invoices will all be the sole responsibility of the legal representative, Luna. Also, notify the legal department to compile the deficit funds my main company advanced for her over the past two years into a loan agreement and prepare for legal action."

"Understood," Mr. Miller was a smart man; he didn't ask any further questions.

After all that, I leaned back in my chair and let out a long sigh.

For five years, I had been like a bottomless pit, filling the vanity of Luna and her family.

I thought that if I gave enough, she would eventually understand my intentions.

But I was wrong.

Some people, you give them everything, and they'll still find something to whine about.

Since that's the case, I'll take back the gold mountain and give her a pile of crap.

In the afternoon, Luna sent me a SnapChat.

"Honey, why isn't my card working? Brittany and I are shopping, and I found a dress I love, but the card declined."

I looked at the screen, a cold smile playing on my lips.

I replied: "Honey, to prepare a special birthday surprise for you next month, I've decided to cut off all material dependencies starting today. I want you to see that, even without money, I can still give you the most satisfying love. As for that dress, I'll sew you a better one myself."

After I sent the message, there was silence on her end for a full ten minutes.

Ten minutes later, Luna replied with a single word: "Okay."

Even though it was through a screen, I could picture her grinding her teeth, her face twisted in a forced display of emotion.

Her self-proclaimed "money-is-dirt" persona? She'd have to see it through, even if it killed her.