The Lies She Hid, The Pain I Bore

Flat broke and the family disgrace, I survived by playing the ultimate simp to Connor. Obsessed with the proud scholarship girl, he showered her with luxurybreakfasts, bags, cash, imported flowers. She rejected everything, so it all trickled down to me. I hoarded the cast-offs, funding my entire high school career.

At graduation, his grand public confession failed. He curled a finger at me. "The ring is yours. Be with me?" I stared at the blinding fifteen-carat diamond and nodded. My college tuition was secured.

We lasted seven yearsuntil the scholarship girl joined his firm as his executive secretary. This time, she accepted everything, moving into the luxury mansion he provided. His circle braced for my breakdown; his buddy warned me not to be a crazy girlfriend. A guy like him would never marry a nobody like me; it was just for fun. At least his feelings for her were real.

Id seen the writing on the wall long ago. So, I accepted an overseas job offer. I refused to waste my life clinging to delusions of becoming his wife.

I was born for exactly one reason. To be a spare-parts baby for my sick older brother.

But my bone marrow wasn't a match.

So my parents dumped me in a rundown rural town upstate to live with my grandma.

She barely had a dime to her name. Growing up, we survived on her meager social security checks and whatever recycling she could collect to put me through school.

By the time I hit high school, Grandma was getting too old to haul bags of cans around. My allowance was practically non-existent.

After paying for class fees and textbooks, my food budget was shot.

I chugged tap water every day just to kill the hunger pangs. When I couldn't take it anymore, I would buy a cheap pack of stale bagels, split one into quarters, and stretch it out over two days.

That was my life until the wealthy new transfer student, Connor, brought breakfast for Brooke, the scholarship girl in our class. It was a gourmet double cheeseburger and a steaming artisan latte.

I had never eaten anything like that in my life. Just smelling it made my mouth water uncontrollably.

Brooke coldly pushed his breakfast away. "I don't need charity from some spoiled rich kid."

I stared at the food knocked onto the floor. I needed it.

I walked over, picked it up, and handed it back to Connor. "Don't be sad."

His eyes were totally red. He glared at me. "Who the hell said I'm sad?!"

He stormed off, leaving the food behind.

I figured it was fair game. I opened the wrapper and devoured it like a starving animal, tears of pure joy streaming down my face.

Oh my god. That burger was the greatest thing I had ever tasted in my life.

From that day on, I started quietly shadowing Connor. I had no hidden agenda. I just wanted to eat meat.

He was relentless, bringing Brooke different luxury breakfasts every single day.

Thanks to him, I sampled traditional English breakfasts, French pastries, German sausages, and high-end American brunches.

A few times, I really wanted to warn him to skip the authentic French baguettes. They were way too hard. Chewing on those with cold tap water was a nightmare for my jaw. If I chipped a tooth, the dental bill would set me back at least fifty bucks.

After a month of scavenging his rejected breakfasts, someone posted about me on the school's anonymous gossip forum. They called me Connor's delusional stalker.

They said I ate the food thrown on the floor, crying as I chewed.

They claimed I followed him around every day because I couldn't stand seeing his true love trampled on, terrified that his heart would break.

We became the school's most pathetic love triangle. He simped for Brooke, and I simped for him.

I was at the absolute bottom of the food chain.

I actually wanted to pull him aside and clear the air.

I wanted to tell him I wasn't secretly in love with him. I was just starving.

I wasn't terrified of his true love being trampled. I was terrified of good food going in the trash.

But right as I approached him, I caught him trying to hand Brooke a handbag.

The bag was covered in that iconic monogram pattern.

Wouldn't the straps snap if you tried to carry textbooks in that thing?

Brooke arrogantly pushed him away again.

"Don't think buying me an eight-thousand-dollar bag is going to make me fall for you. I'm not a gold digger."

Eight... eight thousand? That tiny piece of leather cost eight grand?

Connor let out a cold laugh and pointed right at me. "You. Come here."

I stumbled over, totally dazed.

"Are you in love with me?"

I looked at his face, as cold and sharp as ice. I looked him up and down. Even in a basic prep school uniform, he radiated wealth.

To be honest, Connor was incredibly hot. He had that old-money aesthetic, sharp cheekbones, and an unruly, rebellious edge.

In our small, rundown town, he stood out like a sore thumb. He was pale, gorgeous, and so arrogant no one dared to breathe the same air as him.

But my mind instantly flashed back to the juicy pulled pork sandwich from that morning. I swallowed hard. "I'm just hungry. I want to eat..."

My intense, hungry stare actually made his ears turn bright red. He shoved the designer bag roughly into my arms.

"Enough. Girls should have some modesty. What kind of wild stuff are you saying? Just take the bag. It's useless to me anyway."

I clutched the bag to my chest, smiling so hard my face hurt.

This was eight thousand dollars. This could take so much weight off Grandma's shoulders. I could buy her a massage chair. I could finally take her to a real doctor for her bad back.

And more importantly, I wouldn't just get gourmet breakfasts anymore. I could afford the premium meat combo at the cafeteria for lunch.

Connor physically flinched at my blinding smile. He crossed his arms and raised a challenging eyebrow at Brooke.

"See? You don't want it, but plenty of people do. Look how happy she is."

Brooke furrowed her perfect brows, glaring at me like I was absolute trash.

"You have no self-respect. Getting tangled up with a rich kid like him is going to ruin your reputation."

She hugged her textbooks to her chest and marched away in disgust.

Connor slumped down on the curb, looking completely defeated.

He started digging through his pockets.

I rushed forward and grabbed his wrist. "No smoking."

We were still in high school. Getting caught smoking meant suspension.

"Who said I'm smoking? I'm eating a lollipop."

He pulled two lemon-flavored lollipops out of his pocket and shoved one into my hand.

We sat on the curb for a long time, quietly eating our candy.

He told me to stop following him around.

He wasn't going to give up on Brooke.

I rejected his request without a second thought. "No."

If I left him, who was going to buy me breakfast?

Who was going to hand me eight-thousand-dollar bags?

His face flushed scarlet, and he ran away.

I shadowed Connor for the rest of high school.

The whole school mocked us as the Simp Duo.

Neither of us ever gave up.

Okay, technically they mostly mocked me. Connor had the looks and the bank account, so no one really dared to laugh in his face.

If they knew exactly what I was gaining from this arrangement, they would have died of jealousy.

Connor gave Brooke a mountain of luxury gifts.

A Cartier necklace worth five grand.

Imported exotic roses that I picked up and immediately flipped to a local florist for three thousand.

Aside from the scavenging, Connor and I actually got pretty close. Brooke hated lazy trust-fund kids, so he decided to actually try in school.

He hired me as his private tutor. A hundred and fifty bucks an hour.

Plus a hundred-dollar bonus for every spot he moved up in the class rankings.

During our study sessions, he would vent about his parents. They never paid attention to him. They only threw money at him.

He deliberately acted out just to get their attention. The only time he ever saw them was when they were called into the principal's office.

Recently, he had entered an illegal underground motorcycle race and nearly died crashing into a mountain road.

His parents were so furious they dumped him in this rural town to "build character" and forced him to live in this "shithole."

I stared around the massive, four-thousand-square-foot luxury cabin. A shithole.

I was going to die of jealousy.

Why couldn't I have parents who completely ignored me and just threw thousands of dollars at my face?

My parents just ignored me. They didn't even bother coming back to see me on holidays.

They had wanted to throw me away from the start. In a town like ours, unwanted baby girls were sometimes just drowned in buckets, and no one batted an eye.

Grandma had fished me out of the water. She insisted on raising me, even when my parents explicitly told her they wouldn't give her a single dime.

Paying for my brother's medical bills had drained all their savings.

I never really understood it. We were both their children. Why couldn't I get even a tiny fraction of their love?

Connor was throwing a pity party over a five-hundred-thousand-dollar yearly allowance. What kind of tragic role was he trying to play?

The sorrow of the ultra-rich was truly beyond my peasant comprehension.

If my parents were willing to give me even five hundred bucks a year, I would have cried tears of absolute gratitude.

I wouldn't have had to spend every summer wading through muddy creeks to catch fish and snails to sell at the market just to buy food.

I wouldn't have had to work under-the-table jobs every winter break, dealing with shady bosses who stole half my paycheck. If I dared to ask for my missing wages, they would just scream at me to take it or leave.

And I would have to swallow my pride and keep working just to keep those pathetic scraps.

When I was little, the hunger was so bad I used to lick the salt shaker just to taste something.

Watching Connor act so tragically depressed, I offered a very dismissive reply.

"Wow, that sucks. But don't be too sad. There's always someone out there who loves you unconditionally. You just have to look for it."

His parents were just busy. How could they not love him?

He looked at me, his face suddenly turning bright red. He looked down, awkwardly flipping through his workbook, and snapped at me.

"Stop saying stuff like that."

"Alright, let's just study. If you don't want to hear it, I won't say it."

After studying, I even took the liberty of showing off my cooking skills.

Mostly because his fridge was packed with high-end cuts of meat I had never seen before in my life.

"You don't have to be this nice to me. It won't work."

I felt a surge of guilt and violently stuffed my face with Wagyu beef that was about to spill out of my bowl.

Rich people even named their cows differently.

This meat was so tender and incredibly flavorful.

"I'm not being that nice."

After all, his bowl was mostly noodles with barely any meat.

He gave me a weird look, sighed heavily, and went back to eating his noodles in silence. Afterward, he gave me a ride home on his motorcycle.

I asked him three times if he actually had a license. He told me he was held back a year because of bad grades, so he was already eighteen and fully licensed.

That was one thing we had in common. I wasn't held back, but we couldn't afford school early on, so I started late. I was eighteen too.

He looked genuinely cool riding that bike.

The night wind was freezing.

I hopped off the back of the motorcycle.

He planted his feet on the ground, pulled off his helmet, looked around the desolate area, and casually asked, "Which one is your house?"

I pointed at the crumbling trailer ahead. That was an actual shithole.

"Right there."

He twitched his lips. "I thought that was an abandoned shed."

Was he serious right now?

"Alright, hurry up and go home. It's late. There might be wild animals out here. It's not safe."

"Aw, you care about me."

"Obviously."

He was my ultimate sugar daddy. I desperately wanted him to stick around this town for as long as possible.

He quickly jammed his helmet back on and sped off into the night.

Later on, I scored a debit card loaded with fifty thousand dollars that Brooke had thrown away.

Brooke's mother had fallen severely ill, and Connor had tried to give her the rest of his yearly allowance to help out.

She tossed the card right back at him.

"You can't buy love with money. Stop coming after me."

Connor was already used to the rejections. He just froze for a second. "I only want to help you."

"I don't need it."

I picked up the card and shoved it back into Connor's hand.

"Don't be sad. Where there's a will, there's a way. At least she doesn't look at you with total disgust anymore."

He gave a weak, mocking smile, looking at me like he was thanking me. "You didn't pocket this one."

He was totally used to me scavenging his rejected trash.

"Well, I don't know the PIN code."

I gave him an awkward, sheepish smile.

"052100. It's my birthday."

I took the card, marched straight to the hospital billing department, and paid off Brooke's mother's medical debt.

With the leftover cash, I paid for Grandma's surgery. Thankfully, it was just a minor procedure to remove some polyps.

That night, Connor was so heartbroken he dragged me out to drink with him until dawn.

He told me he genuinely, deeply loved Brooke.

"What do you even like about her?"

"Love at first sight. Some people are just like that. You see them once, and they're stuck in your head forever. But every time I try to pursue her, she thinks I'm trying to humiliate her with my money."

I took a slow sip of my Coke. Why couldn't someone specifically humiliate me with money?

Thank god I was proactive about picking up the scraps.

"I've studied my ass off this whole year just to match her class rank. I joined her clubs just to be near her. But she's always so damn cold to me."

I noticed he was dangerously close to crying.

Feeling a little sentimental myself, I patted him gently on the back. "You still have time. Don't give up. Stone can be worn away by drops of water. Maybe she'll accept you soon."

Thinking about how much weaker Grandma looked after her surgery, my own eyes started to turn red.

He frantically shoved a pack of tissues into my hands. "If it hurts you this much, you don't have to lie and cheer me on."

I managed to drag his grades up from dead last at 360th to the top 200.

His scores were a solid hundred points higher than when he first transferred.

His parents in New York originally wanted to bring him back, but they decided to let him stay in our rural town to take his SATs.

After all, his grades at the elite Manhattan prep school had been a total disaster.

He was actually doing better out here in the sticks.

When I heard the news, I was ecstatic.

I was so happy I treated him to dinner at a nice local diner, ordering a whole table of expensive dishes I had craved for years but never dared to buy.

"I'm staying, and you're this happy?"

"Of course I'm happy."

If his grades kept going up, I would make more bonus money. Then I could afford to apply to out-of-state colleges.

Living in a big city was expensive. I needed to leave enough money for Grandma to survive comfortably, and I needed cash for plane tickets to visit her during summer and winter breaks.

Every single thing required money.

I had been craving this diner's food for ages but could never justify the cost.

Biting into a piece of perfect braised pork, I nodded furiously, smiling so hard my cheeks ached.

Suddenly, a finger flicked me hard on the forehead. "You're smiling like an idiot."

On graduation day, he prepared a massive, theatrical confession.

Honestly, it was way too extra.

He even brought out a diamond ring the size of a pigeon egg.

A massive crowd gathered to watch.

Brooke massaged her temples, looking like she had a massive migraine.

"Can you stop acting like a child? All you ever think about is romance and dating. I have a real life to build. I can't afford to waste time on spoiled rich boys like you."

This time, Connor didn't seem too heartbroken. Maybe the endless string of rejections had finally numbed him.

He turned around and waved a finger at me. "Riley, do you want to go out with me?"

I saw the lingering traces of sadness buried deep in his eyes. I saw the mocking stares of the crowd around us.

And then I saw the massive diamond. That thing had to be worth a fortune.

I nodded like my life depended on it. Yes, absolutely yes.

When he slid the ring onto my finger, it was too small and got stuck on my second knuckle.

Brooke froze for a long second before letting out a sneer of absolute disgust.

"You two brainless idiots actually deserve each other."

I strongly disagreed with her assessment.

I had just been accepted into Stanford on a full ride.

And after three years of brutal, relentless studying, Connor had managed to get into Stanford too.

Who the hell was brainless?

We were the ultimate academic comeback story.

And just like that, we were together.

I originally thought we were just putting on a show. I figured once the graduation hype died down, we would quietly go back to being somewhat-friends.

But he actually took the boyfriend role seriously.

He didn't even go back to New York that summer. He stayed and helped Grandma with the farm chores and fed the chickens.

Grandma was still recovering from surgery and needed the rest.

A city boy like him had no idea how to do manual labor. He made an absolute fool of himself.

He wiped out in the mud trying to plant vegetables, getting covered in filth from head to toe.

He got chased around the yard by aggressive roosters while trying to feed them.

He made Grandma and me laugh until our stomachs hurt.

He even promised Grandma he would take good care of me at Stanford.

And he actually kept his word.

Thanks to him, I flew first-class for the first time in my life on our way to California.

For all four years of college, he treated me incredibly well.

He officially took over providing that daily gourmet breakfast he used to throw away.

He even took culinary classes and started cooking for me from scratch.

On holidays, he drowned me in expensive gifts.

He memorized my class schedule and enrolled in all the exact same electives.

He matured so much during those years. He grew into a truly magnetic, compelling man.

Whenever girls confessed to him or asked for his number, he would just point at me. "I have a girlfriend."

They would usually sneer at my basic clothes.

"She's completely average and dresses like a charity case. She's not good enough for you."

He would glare at them with absolute ice. "You're not even in the same stratosphere as her. Don't embarrass yourself by trying to compare."

Whenever I got sick, he stayed by my side and nursed me back to health.

Once, I came down with a severe fever. After getting an IV drip at the clinic, I went back to my cheap off-campus apartment to rest.

He expertly cooked me a light soup, fed me my meds, and constantly checked my forehead to see if the fever was breaking.

Aside from Grandma, he was the first person to ever care for me with that kind of devotion.

After my fever broke, I looked at him slumped over asleep in the chair next to my bed. I asked if he wanted to come up and sleep on the mattress so he'd be more comfortable.

The first thing he said when he climbed in, his eyes burning with absolute seriousness, was: "I'm a guy. Are you really sure this is a good idea?"

I looked him up and down.

In college, he had started hitting the gym hard. He had an eight-pack, he'd grown even taller, easily hitting six-foot-two.

His face had lost its boyish softness and become incredibly striking and sharp.

Human nature is human nature. Honestly, I kind of wanted to test drive him.

"We're dating, aren't we? Even if something happens, it's completely normal."

After he got into bed, I realized I had slept too much during the day and was wide awake. I propped my head on my hand, tracing the sharp lines of his face.

I felt something rigid pressing against my thigh.

"Stop pretending to be asleep."

His eyes snapped open. He yanked me into his chest, his voice dangerously hoarse. "You started this."

We kissed.

It was our first truly intense, overwhelming kiss.

Not just a soft press of lips.

It was heavy with raw desire.

His hands were shaking as they slipped beneath my nightgown.

"Is this okay?"

I teased him. "Maybe not. I'm still sick."

His face turned bright red. He looked at me, totally frustrated and incredibly pathetic, and moved to roll over and go to sleep.

After a long pause, I stopped teasing him. I kissed him softly and pulled his hand back.

...

His body was definitely top-tier.

But the actual performance was a serious letdown.

Feeling a little disappointed, I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face in his chest. "Let's just go to sleep."

His neck went stiff, and his face burned scarlet.

"It's just because you teased me for so long! Give me another chance. I... it was my first time. I didn't know what I was doing. I promise it won't happen again."

He tormented me for the entire rest of the night. I was literally crying, begging him to stop.

I told him it was enough.

I told him he was incredibly gifted.

I apologized for ever doubting his stamina.

He refused to stop.

"You were disappointed. I have to make it up to you, babe."

Finally, I had to use the excuse that I was still recovering from a fever, and my body genuinely couldn't take it anymore, before he finally let me go.

After that night, Connor seemed to unlock a new obsession.

He constantly pressured me to move into his luxury penthouse.

But I stubbornly insisted on staying in my cheap, cramped apartment.

So he just started crashing at my tiny place, exhausting me every single night.

For four years, we were perfectly fine.

Sometimes, looking at the endless, manic energy he poured into me.

During those countless intimate nights in bed, he would look at me with dazed eyes and whisper that he loved me to death.

He said it so often that sometimes, I actually started to hallucinate that his love was real.