I always thought my boyfriend came from a poor family.

One day, I saw him drink a bottle of wine worth 100,000 while tipping the waiter over 1,000.

The watch he gave away without a second thought was worth millions.

Yet, his gift for my birthday was a dirt-cheap trinket.

He claimed it was a test to make sure I was not a gold digger.

Later on, I proved that I was not a gold digger.

That was when he begged and pleaded for me to accept his extravagant gift.

Spotted at Drunken Moonlight

I thought I was hallucinating from exhaustion when I spotted Gerald Peterson at the bar.

I narrowed my eyes and stared at him for a long while.

The bar manager was impatiently calling out to me.

There were a lot of customers at the bar today, so the work was even more intense than before.

The boxes of alcohol were heavy as I hurriedly moved them from the storage to the bar.

The hustle and bustle made me forget about the earlier distraction.

It was only when the final box of alcohol was placed down that I began to wonder if I actually saw Gerald in the bar.

At the center of the bar were beautiful young dancers singing and dancing along to the music, hyping up the customers. The flashing lights made them mesmerizing while cutting me off from them, acting as a divider between our worlds.

"Wendy, do you want to check upstairs?"

I was currently crouching behind the bar as I took a break and stared down at my phone's screen that was displaying the last message Gerald sent.

'Babe, I have a company event tonight. I won't be back for dinner.'

I thumped my back with a fist. It was aching from the many boxes of alcohol I had to move.

I shook my head and replied to my coworker, "No, that's not my scene."

"Huh? Aren't you strapped for cash? There. That girl went up, and she got a watch in just one trip." My coworker pointed.

"It's an expensive watch worth over a million from Vacheron Constantin. Heh. Mr. Peterson is so generous. He tipped Cissy several thousand in the past."

Cissy?

I knew of her. She was a young and beautiful university student who often spoke of a man she called "Mr. Peterson". Her eyes always shone bright whenever she did so.

They were filled with admiration and adoration.

Back then, I did not think much of it. There were plenty of people with the same surname. How could that man be Gerald? My coworker had planned to leave soon after I rejected her offer.

I hurriedly grabbed the hem of her skirt.

"I-Is Mr. Peterson's full name Gerald Peterson?" I asked.

"Wendy, how did you know his full name?"

Her response had my ears ringing from the mind-numbing shock.

My phone lit up once more with a message from Gerald.

'Babe, my head hurts.

'I want to drink your hangover stew.'

I recalled the cut of bone-in meat stored in the break room that I had bought the moment I found out Gerald had a company event that evening.

After work, I had to instantly start boiling the cut of meat and bone for an hour before straining out the bone. Then, I would put in some lentils before bringing the stew down to a simmer for around 40 minutes until the lentils were so soft that they practically melted in the mouth.

Gerald adored it.

Every time he got drunk, he would cajole me into making the stew for him.

While it took a lot of effort, I did as requested every time.

Thus, I bought everything I needed for the stew before he even asked.

I stood up from behind the bar and tidied my hair as I looked at my coworker.

"Can I head up there with you?"

The entirety of the second floor was reserved for VIP rooms. It was much quieter and more intimate.

As we walked around a corner, we found a couple making out.

My manager was absolutely unfazed and, as I was still new, just shot me a look in a silent warning for me not to offend our guests.

I hung my head low. My nails were biting deep into my palms, leaving behind crescent-shaped indents.

The room was dimly lit. Female staff of all shapes and sizes were lined up in a row. Some of the guests preferred ladies with slim waists, while others preferred fuller curves.

I deliberately hid behind the group to peek at the guests through the gaps between the women.

The man sitting in the center of the room opened up a bottle of wine. I knew of that wine. Every bottle was sold at 100,000.

He was dressed in a luxurious suit. While my view of his handsome face was unclear, his striking features were undeniably familiar.

It was Gerald.

My boyfriend, Gerald.

Someone nearby teasingly suggested, "Mr. Peterson, the ladies here are all new. Choose one."

Gerald looked up and briefly glanced at the line of ladies.

I trembled as I was afraid of being noticed. So, I took a step back, terrified I would get caught, until my back was plastered against the door. My racing heart told me just how uneasy I was.

"Doesn't he already have a girlfriend?"

The woman named Cissy was sitting beside him. Dimples appeared on her cheeks as she smiled at him while love shone in her eyes.

Despite her words, she continued to lean in close to him.

Gerald did not react at all to her. He did not even try to shy away.

"Gerald is used to luxuries. A simple woman is merely a change of pace. Anyway, how is she his girlfriend? It's just a bet. Right, Gerald? Don't tell me you've actually fallen for her."

Gerald silently stared at the speaker before his lips spread in a smirk. "Fall for her? How can it be possible?

"I'll dump her when it's time. Even a simple woman can lose her charm. Anyway, you might not know it, but she's not simple at all. In fact, I can only describe her as tough yet sickening. She's tiresome."

His last word echoed through my mind.

It felt like a bucket of cold water had been poured over me. The sweat on my back turned freezing upon meeting the cool air of the room, leaving me shivering.

We've dated for over a year. Yet, all he could say to describe me was "tiresome".

Beyond the crowd, he was the epitome of unmatched elegance and charm.

Meanwhile, I was dressed in a sweat-soaked staff shirt. My shoes were cheap goods bought from a random stall by the street. The only accessory I wore was a watch.

It was a birthday present from Gerald.

It was worth around a hundred.

The strap itself had already turned yellow with age and sweat, yet I refused to take it off.

That was because it was the first gift I had ever gotten.

It was precious to me.

However, what did it mean to Gerald?

A half-hearted attempt to give me some attention.

No, it could not even be counted as attention.

Perhaps it was pity?

He pitied me for being an orphan who needed to hustle and save up for my own tuition fees and living expenses while attempting to repay my debt from my mother's treatments.

Therefore, he graciously demeaned himself to be by my side...

After that?

He told me he was poor. He had me work hard to feed and shelter him.

This room was lavish.

However, it only felt suffocating to me.

I made my escape after briefly speaking to the manager.

No one noticed me, as every other woman in the room was more striking than I was.

I had just descended the stairs when I was called off to move more boxes.

The customers kept coming.

When the entire bar finally quieted down, and I had time to wipe down the bar with a rag, the elevator doors opened.

The group of men and women stumbled out.

Gerald was being supported by Cissy.

He was over six feet tall. Nonetheless, he was leaning his entire weight on Cissy's petite figure of five feet. Cissy let out a cry of surprise and swiftly beckoned me over when she spotted me.

"Help me!"

I put the rag aside and walked over.

I was approaching Gerald with an ulterior motive in mind.

He was drunk.

His cheeks were flushed.

Still, he exuded an air of sophistication.

Gerald looked up at me. Then, he narrowed his eyes, likely out of disbelief.

Alas, the look on his face grew even more unpleasant as I got closer.

"Shoot! Why do you stink?"

The Bet

Gerald instantly dashed to the side and started puking.

I remained where I was, stiff and frozen. My limbs refused to obey me like they were not attached to me. The stench of sweat clinging to me seemed magnified to my senses, constantly provoking my mind.

All I could do was awkwardly rub my hands against my uniform in an attempt to wipe off the sweat.

However, my uniform was dusty and also soaked in sweat. I was practically covered in grime.

I had forgotten about how I always made sure to shower and change before heading home so that Gerald never found out I was doing manual labor.

He never once knew that I was part of the group of people he looked down on.

Gerald arrived home before I did.

As he sprawled out on the couch, he was no longer dressed in the suit he wore in the bar. Instead, he was wearing the cheap T-shirt I bought for him off the internet. All traces of his wealth and status were gone.

His arms hung low with his phone clutched in one hand.

When he heard the door open, he opened his eyes.

He called me "babe".

The great Mr. Peterson called me "babe".

No one might ever believe me if I said that.

I focused my attention on his face out of the desire to see guilt in his eyes. However, I didn't even catch a sliver of it flickering in his eyes.

He truly was a fantastic actor.

I placed the bag of bone-in meat and bundle of coriander in the kitchen before composing myself and saying with a smile, "It's very late. Let's turn in early."

Gerald got up from the couch and walked over to stand in the kitchen doorway.

He did not move any closer and just crossed his arms before his chest, occasionally pinching his nose.

I had my back turned to him as I washed my hands. The entire time, I was wondering if I still stank of sweat.

"Babe, didn't you make the stew? I told you I wanted it.

"You even bought the meat for it. Why didn't you come home earlier to make it?"

When drunk, Gerald was quite childish and would throw tantrums.

I usually did whatever he wanted, standing by the stove to make the hangover stew he wanted no matter how late it was. I would even wash and finely chop the coriander into garnish for the stew.

Then, I would spend my time washing my hands over and over again.

I detested the scent of coriander.

However, I did not grumble or complain back then. Still, I would always wonder why people liked coriander in their stews.

Due to the combination of my lack of response and his guilt, he surprisingly did not throw a temper tantrum. "You're right, though. It is too late. Go take a shower.

"You know, when my dinner was done, I met someone who stank of sweat. They were so disgusting that I puked.

"Babe, my head hurts. Can you massage it later?"

The tap continued to run.

However, my hands did not move at all.

It was a long moment before I eventually turned the tap off. "Okay."

Gerald embraced me from behind and buried his face into my neck while we were in bed, taking a deep breath. "Babe, you smell so nice."

The memory of how he started puking when I got close to him earlier flashed through my mind. I gently pushed him away.

"Gerald, do you have something you want to tell me?"

I stared into his deceptive eyes.

For a moment, he froze in confusion. Soon, he snapped back to reality.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you. Babe, I might have to leave for two weeks on another business trip."

"A business trip?"

Gerald had just started this job, yet he had been on business trips several times now.

I told him not to exhaust himself as everything would get better.

However, he told me, "Babe, I get a bonus for going on business trips. I don't want you to work multiple jobs."

'Lies.'

'Liar.'

I closed my eyes as I repeatedly thought that.

After he turned off the lights, I said, "Go then."

"You have to think of me."

He whispered into my ear.

When I got up the next day, he was already gone. I nearly thought everything was just a dream.

"Why do you ask that?"

Cissy's face was caked in exquisite makeup. She spoke with a casual and nonchalant air as she held a cigarette between her fingers. "I'm curious."

I dusted off my hands. With how dirty my face was, it was like we belonged to two different worlds.

After last night, I spent a long time pondering what the people in the room had meant by the bet.

It was likely a game between members of high society.

I did not know anyone who was part of high society, so I resorted to asking Cissy as she interacted most with them.

Cissy let out a cryptic laugh.

"That bet... It's a game among the rich. I only know the basics of it. Mr. Peterson lost a game, so his friend dared him. He would pursue a random poor commoner girl as a poor man. Once they started dating, he had to rely on her for financial support.

"Then, out of nowhere, he will come clean to her, saying stuff like 'Haha, I'm actually so-and-so. All the money you've spent on me the entire time isn't even as much as I spend in a week. Now, you know the difference between us. Here's a card as compensation.

"'Now, scram.'"

I could see envy swirling in Cissy's eyes.

"If I were that woman, I would take that card and leave. If the money inside the account is high enough, I would continue to care for him.

"After all, money is everything."

I had no idea what made that statement feel funny to me.

Still, I suddenly burst out into laughter.

Tears streamed down my cheeks.

Cissy stared at me like I was a weirdo. "What is it, Wendy? Don't laugh at me. Everyone here has a story, right?"

She took a deep drag of her cigarette before releasing a cloud of smoke that obscured her face from my view.

"Money is the most important thing in the world."

I finally stopped laughing. As I wiped my tears away, I shook my head.

Then, I remembered the overwhelming debt that came from my mother's death overshadowing my life. I eventually nodded. "You're right."

In actual fact, that was what I thought before Gerald appeared in my life.

I studied, worked part-time, studied more, and struggled to earn more money.

I was constantly on the go, as if my entire life was already laid out before me.

That was until one day when I was handing out flyers. Gerald intentionally walked past me over twenty times and accepted over twenty of my fliers. In the end, he handed me a bottle of water.

His white teeth sparkled as he smiled. "I was going to buy cold water for you. Then, I remembered hearing how it's not good for women to drink too much icy water."

He twisted the cap off the bottle before handing it to me as he jokingly said, "You won't look down on it, will you?"

Back then, I was drenched in sweat and felt like I could drink a whole bucket's worth of water in one go. What was there to look down on?

"Thanks."

That was my reply.

Back then, I thought he was a great man. Now, everything we had felt like a terrible joke at my expense.

Since our meeting was built on the bet, there was no need for me to cling to something that cheap.

'Let's break up.'

I paused and slowly deleted the message I typed out.

Cissy's words rang in my mind. Money was the most important thing in the world.

Just as I hesitated, a pop-up notification appeared on my screen with a headline.

'Peterson Group heir splurges on a private shopping trip with sister.'

I never read articles like it, but something made me click on it this time.