In the third year of working to raise money for the medical expenses of my girlfriend, Christine White, she once again fell into a critical condition.

During these three years, I used up all my savings and mortgaged the house my parents had left me.

I delivered takeout food, washed dishes, and even sold my blood just because she said she would marry me when she recovered.

I continued to naively gather money for her medical expenses.

While delivering takeout at the entrance of an upscale nightclub, I heard her boasting to her friends.

"That idiot Micah Jenning. I just made up an excuse about being sick, and he believed me like a lapdog! Not only did he empty his tiny savings, but he actually worked delivering food and driving Uber! I heard he even worked on a construction site a few days ago to make money! Tell me. Isn't he the ultimate simp? How pathetic.”

At that moment, the heart that loved her for three years suddenly died.

I dropped the food delivery and turned to call the rich heiress who had waited for me for three years. "Hayley Smith, you once said that you would marry me if I were willing to marry you. Does that statement still stand?"

In the nightclub corridor that separated us, I held the takeout tightly in my hand to prevent it from falling.

Christine White's voice sounded drunk, but it could not hide her contempt and arrogance. "Micah Jenning is really stupid; it's as if he has no brain at all. He kept the damn emerald pendant his mother left him as if it were a precious treasure, but he pawned it for me in the end."

"Christine, I heard that you used that emerald pendant as a dog toy for your dog, Prince, and then broke it? If he knew, would he faint from crying? Hahaha..."

My mind went blank as if hit by a heavy hammer. That was the only relic my mother left me!

I once thought that even if the whole world betrayed me, Christine would be on my side and cherish everything I cherished.

However, she thought my mother's relic was only good enough to be a cheap pendant for her expensive Alaskan Malamute. It was not even considered a toy and was easily broken.

The private room burst into even louder laughter, and Christine's triumphant voice rang again. "Men like him forget everything after a little sweet talk. The ten thousand dollars he painstakingly saved isn't even enough for a single night out for us!"

"You bet! Christine, the cheapest bottle of wine we're having tonight costs 300,000 dollars! His meager savings wouldn't even be a drop in the ocean! How absurd!"

A bottle of wine that cost 300,000 dollars.

I gripped the cold takeout bag tightly. My nails dug into my palms, but I felt no pain. I braved the torrential rain, scrambling through the city, covered in bruises, for a mere 100-dollar order, while she casually squandered 300,000 dollars for wine.

Christine continued to be smug. "But honestly, watching him pour his heart out for me, acting like he would do anything for me, is kind of funny... I'll never get tired of seeing his stupid face..."

I could not listen to the rest. All my efforts and sacrifices had become a complete joke.

To treat her illness, I spent all my savings, sold the house my parents left me, and worked three jobs a day over the past three years. Because of the astronomical fee written on her critical condition notice, I even resorted to selling my blood on the black market when I was at my most desperate.

Christine, the woman I loved for three years, said it was just a made-up excuse.

I never wanted such love again!

I put down the delivery box and pulled out my old phone with its cracked screen. My fingers stiffly scrolled to a name I had buried deep in my contacts — Hayley Smith.

The call got through almost instantly, and her voice, as gentle yet cool as ever, came through. "Micah."

I took a deep breath, straining to make my voice sound calm. "Hayley, you once said you would marry me if I were willing to marry you. Does that statement... still stand?"

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the line.

Then came a slightly trembling, yet firm and joyful voice. "Micah, it always stands. I'll come pick you up in three days!"

After hanging up the phone with Hayley, I returned numbly to the small rented apartment I shared with Christine, which was less than 30 square meters.

The air was a mixture of cheap perfume and a damp, musty smell. I once thought this was the smell of home, but now it made my heart ache painfully and made me feel like vomiting.

Christine did not come back until late at night. She pushed open the door, her face showing just the right amount of weakness and exhaustion. She was also holding a crumpled diagnosis certificate in her hand. Her voice was aggrieved as she looked at me with deep affection but also reluctance. She told me about the severity of her illness and the need for 1.5 million dollars.

"Micah, I know you've been working hard for me. We'll get married when I recover. I will make you the happiest groom in the world."

If I had heard this a few hours ago, I might have been moved to tears and would have done anything to raise that life-saving money for her.

Now, I could only smell the lingering strong alcohol smell and the cologne of strangers on her from afar. That expensive liquor they casually mentioned as costing 300,000 dollars was quite strong.

I did not ask about her well-being or inquire about how much more was needed for her medical expenses, as I usually would. I just looked at her quietly.

The face that I once loved now felt extremely strange and ugly.

She probably noticed my unusual behavior too. Her eyes flickered a few times as a hint of panic appeared. "Micah, why aren't you reacting? I said I'm sick, and the doctor said I need 1.5 million dollars for treatment. Don't you care about me anymore? You're the only one I'm counting on. If you don't care about me, I'm going to die."

I looked at her, suddenly feeling exhausted. I did not even have the strength to question her about the emerald pendant or expose her lies.

"Christine, aren't you tired of this act?"

Her mask of deep affection finally crumbled. "Micah, don't you love me anymore? You're so indifferent to me. Do you think you're all that for raising money for my medical treatment? Let me tell you. I can live perfectly well without you!"

Finally, she slammed the door shut and left.

A bitter feeling washed over me. This was her usual tactic — using this method to force me to submit and waiting for me to comfort her, beg her, and give her everything. However, this time, I did not move.

I slumped onto the cold floor and looked around the tiny unit we once shared. Every item seemed to reek of her hypocrisy, which I found incredibly ironic.

How much of her sweet talk was genuine? How much of her deep affection came from the heart?

I took out my phone, ready to completely delete all her contact information, when a notification popped up on the screen for a friend's livestream. The profile picture was of one of Christine's best friends.

Somehow, I tapped on it.

The livestream was brightly lit and filled with revelry. Christine sat in the center, surrounded by several handsome male models. Her face was glowing, with no trace of her illness or heartbreak. She was arm in arm with her best friends, boasting animatedly about her "men-taming skills." Then, I heard my name.

"Micah..." Christine took a big gulp of her drink, her tone flippant and smug. "...is just a simp and an ATM! He wouldn't dare utter a sound if I said a word! I'm telling you, he'll be crying and begging me to come home within three days!"

The livestream immediately erupted in laughter and flattery. "Christine, you can't say that! What butler is so handsome and capable at the same time? You're lucky! You have someone making money to support you during the day and someone warming your bed and waiting on you at night. Tsk tsk tsk, we're envious! I just wonder if his body can handle all that?"

"Exactly! He usually seems so serious and honest, but he must be really good in bed! He's probably learned a lot of positions to please Christine!"

They talked about me without restraint, using the most filthy language to speculate about our private matters.

The comments on the screen echoed their sentiments, and the barrage of vulgarities assaulted my eyes. I could not take it any longer, so I abruptly shut down the livestream. My stomach churned as I rushed to the bathroom, vomiting violently, as if trying to expel all the betrayal and disgust of the past three years.

WhatsApp, phone, Messenger... My hands trembled as I blocked and deleted all of Christine's contact information. I thought, 'Goodbye, Christine. I'm done!'

While packing my luggage, my gaze fell upon the photo of my mother and me on the bedside table.

In the photo, my mother smiled gently and kindly, while the dark green emerald pendant was around her neck. The gentle luster highlighted her smile.

Tears were uncontrollable in front of loved ones.

'Mom...' I pondered as I collapsed onto the bed, burying my face deep in the musty blanket, and my long-suppressed sobs could no longer be held back.

I thought, 'Mom, I'm sorry. I failed as a son.'

Before she passed away, my mother trembled as she placed the emerald pendant around my neck. "Micah, your grandmother left this. It will bring you good luck. You must keep it safe..."

That emerald pendant was the token of all the warm memories I had of my mother. Three years ago, because of Christine's forged medical bill for 200,000 dollars and her saying she would die if she could not raise the money, I cried as I took it off and pawned it hesitantly.

Back then, I naively thought that once she recovered, we would work together to earn money and redeem the emerald pendant.

The token my mother had protected with her life was utterly insignificant to her.

Tears soaked my pillow.

I fiercely wiped away my tears, repeatedly telling myself, "Micah, be a man. Move on."

On my last day before leaving, I contacted the agency to cancel my lease.

As I dragged my weary body to the corner of the office building corridor, a familiar figure unexpectedly caught my eye — it was Christine.

She was arm-in-arm with a frivolously dressed, muscular man. The two of them behaved intimately, chatting and laughing as they walked out of an office with an investment company sign.

Christine's hand even restlessly brushed against the man's muscular arm, making him chuckle softly.

I recognized him as Christine's male best friend, a frequent attendee at their various gatherings. Judging by how comfortable they were with each other, I had probably been cheated on for a long time.

Just beyond the corner, their conversation reached my ears.

"Christine, if that jerk Micah still won't admit his mistake this time, do you want me to give you another idea to teach him a lesson? After all, it was my idea to make him wait for you in that godforsaken place all night. Getting soaked to the core in the heavy rain must have been unpleasant."

My mind went blank as if countless steel needles were piercing my heart simultaneously. The pain was so intense I could not breathe.

It was him.

Three months ago, I took a designated driver order. The customer specified a remote suburban villa, so remote that even the GPS could not find it. Upon arrival, he said something urgent had come up and told me to wait in the car. Then, I left my phone in his car, and my electric scooter refused to start.

I was stuck in that godforsaken place, completely helpless.

It even started pouring rain that day. Soaked, cold, and hungry, I groped my way home in the dark, walking for seven or eight hours. The next day, I developed a high fever and nearly died in that cold, rented apartment.

Christine had held me then, scolding me with concern for being so foolish and working so hard to make money. She said she would be heartbroken.

Now I learned that it was all part of their carefully planned scheme. They treated me like a toy, laughing at my misfortune!

All of my pain and humiliation was nothing more than a casual joke for their amusement.

Immense resentment and anger surged in my chest; I could no longer control myself as I rushed to the deserted stairwell. I trembled so much I could barely stand.

...

Christine probably only started to feel a genuine sense of unease the day after I completely disappeared. She was out partying with her friends at bars as usual. When someone mentioned me, she would casually wave her hand, her tone carrying her usual arrogance and disdain. "The simp is just throwing a tantrum. Give him a few days and he'll come back obediently. He can't escape my grasp, can he?"

She was always so confident that I could not live without her and that I would return to her no matter what she did, like countless times before. However, her feigned composure must have completely crumbled the moment she received the call from the real estate agent.

"Ms. White, your boyfriend, Mr. Jenning, came over yesterday to check out of the lease and has moved out. Do you want to renew the lease?"

"What did you say? Moved out? Where could he go?"

"His family seemed to have made arrangements; he's going home to get married."

Christine jumped up from the couch, her voice trembling with shock. "What? Get married? To whom? How dare he?"