The glass slipped from someone's hand and shattered on the floor. The people across from me stood up, and the first thing they saw was my disheveled clothes.

Someone let out a low whistle.

I clutched my shirt tightly, my eyes red. "Josh, where are you?"

Josh had just taken a step forward when a waiter walked up and blocked him. "Miss, this is a high-end private club. It's not a place for someone like you."

I was dressed head to toe in cheap online knockoffs, my messy bun tilting to one side. I looked completely out of place.

"You've got the wrong idea. My boyfriend works here. I have a vision problem and got separated from him. I'll leave as soon as I find him."

No one around me believed a word.

Whitney let out an icy laugh. "Who knows if she didn't sneak in while her boyfriend's working just to hook a rich guy?"

That was all it took. The looks around me turned sharp and mocking.

Gold digger. Cheap. Desperate.

In an instant, I became the center of everyone's ridicule.

Josh pulled his foot back and sat down again. The waiter reached out impatiently and grabbed my arm. "Move along. I've seen plenty like you."

I shook my head, blinking back tears as I pulled out my phone. The lock screen was a photo of Josh. I pointed at it, my voice shaking with anger. "My boyfriend is here. He can prove it."

The waiter froze and looked up at Josh.

Josh met his gaze with a blank, distant expression. He clearly wanted nothing to do with me.

"What nonsense are you talking about? How could this gentleman possibly be your boyfriend? He's clearly—"

I unlocked my phone and cut him off, "If you don't believe me, I have proof."

On the trending searches was a video of Donald working with me. In the clip, a young girl wore dark sunglasses with a white cane resting by her side. Next to her stood a tall guy with a lazy, careless posture, a few buckets of roses spread out in front of him.

At first, Donald looked reluctant. Then, seeing how pitiful I looked, he gave in.

From that day on, a strange pair appeared on the overpass—a blind girl and a boy with a permanent scowl. Maybe it was because we both looked young and stood out too much. Reporters started showing up to film us.

Donald had tried chasing them off with a dark expression more than once. It never worked. Eventually, he stopped trying.

That day, listening to the numbers in my account balance being read out loud on my phone, I leaned forward and kissed him first.

The boy who was always so careless froze on the bridge, stammering. "Yvette, who said you could kiss me?"

Under the sunset, his face was as striking as the glowing sky behind him.

I smiled and waved my phone at him. "Josh, we're getting closer to 100,000."

The color drained from his face instantly. He remembered. That number was just a lie he made up to trick me. Even if I earned 100,000, Josh would never marry me.

He, just a stand-in in the scheme, had even less right. That night, he pressed me down and bit hard on my lips.

"What did you just call me? Hm?"

"Josh."

He moved like he was trying to burn something out of himself, like he might break me apart. However, the moment I frowned, he slowed down anyway. "Good girl. Call me honey."

Blushing, I softly called his name, my voice almost a whisper.

Back then, he was like a dead tree coming back to life, everything about him suddenly bright.

From that day on, it was like he became a different person. Every morning, he got up early just to stand in line at that coffee shop I once mentioned, just to bring me the first cup of hot coffee.

During the day, he sold flowers under the blazing sun, while making sure I stayed in the shade, never letting me get even a little too warm. He used to say I was a delicate flower, and he would not be the one to ruin me.

On slow days, he would not even eat his own sandwich, saving all of it for me.

At noon, he handed out flyers on the street and settled me into a nearby fast food joint so I could sit in the air conditioning and rest.

At night, he would buy hot street food and quietly slip it into my hands.

I had argued with him before, seriously, telling him I could work too, that we could share the burden.

He just shook his head. He said letting his woman suffer was the only mistake he had ever made.

During that year, we lived in a basement apartment that cost 500 dollars a month. The window was old and broken. When it rained outside, it practically rained inside too.

He would throw his jacket over me and run with me to the nearest subway station.

Two soaked idiots, laughing so hard we could not breathe.

In winter, the basement felt like a freezer. To save money, we refused to turn on the heat.

Donald would just hold me close, acting as my personal heater. Then he would pull out a small bag of roasted nuts from his pocket and peel them one by one for me. Watching me eat with a smile, he would smile too.

Sometimes, he asked me if I regretted it. I would wrap my arms around his neck and answer with a kiss—like I never noticed he was not Josh.

In the hazy quiet of the night, I would sometimes hear him sigh. "Yvette… stop loving him. Love me instead, okay?"

He kissed me again and again, like he wanted the answer but was afraid of it at the same time.

Back in the club, someone recognized the video.

"Hey, isn't that that super famous couple online? Who's out here trash-talking this girl?"

"Her boyfriend adores her. He treats her like she's everything. That lock screen clearly isn't him. The girl has bad eyesight. She probably just mixed it up."

"Just let her wait here for her boyfriend."

I nodded, smiling sweetly. "Yeah. If Josh can't find me, he'll lose his mind."

Someone seemed to recognize Donald and whispered under their breath, "Doesn't the guy in that video look a lot like the Brooks family's heir?"

I waved it off with a small smile. "What are you talking about? That's my boyfriend, Josh. He's just a poor guy who works three jobs a day for me. You've got the wrong person."

When a jacket was draped over my shoulders, Josh's expression had already turned ugly. "Isn't this embarrassing enough? Come with me."

I grabbed his arm, my face lighting up, and called out, "Honey."

His expression twisted. He loosened his tie, clearly irritated. "Who told you to call me that?"

I acted like I did not hear the annoyance in his voice, smiling sweetly. "You did."

So many nights, Donald had coaxed me into calling him that. If I accidentally called him Josh, that night would come with a much harsher 'punishment'.

Josh must have thought of that video too, because his expression darkened even more. He shook off my hand and told me I was only allowed to call him by his name from now on. When he saw the disappointment in my eyes, he opened his mouth like he wanted to say something.

However, in the end, he said nothing.

The moment we sat down, the '100,000-Dollar Couple' trended again. This time, it was not praise. It was exposure, a complete reversal.

[Shocking twist! It was all staged for attention. There was never any poor blind girl suffering for love.]

[So it was fake? I actually believed in love again because of them. Turns out she's just a gold digger. Gross.]

[Seriously, anyone can fake being 'crazy in love' these days. Clout chasers, get lost.]

I heard the soft murmurs from others and tightened my grip on my phone, biting my lip. "Josh, you have to believe me. I didn't…"

Whitney smiled gently and handed me a glass of water. "Yvette, don't listen to what people are saying. Josh knows what's true."

Before I could even touch the glass, the hot water splashed straight onto me.

Whitney rushed to help, fumbling as she tried to clean me up. In the struggle, my clothes slipped down to my shoulders. She covered her mouth and gasped. "Oh my God, Yvette… Did you really go find other men for money?"

From my collarbone down to my chest, there were dense marks, red and purple, impossible to ignore. I tried to pull my clothes back up, but Josh grabbed my wrist. His face was icy, his voice slow and sharp. "You actually sold your body for money?"

At that moment, I understood. From the beginning, he had never once suspected that Donald would touch me. However, he fully believed I would follow my mother's dying wish and cling to wealth no matter what.

Before, he only called me a gold digger. Then, he had decided I was something worse.

I let out a quiet, bitter laugh. Whatever hope I had left for him disappeared completely.

Whitney quickly stepped in, playing peacemaker. "Yvette may have bad eyesight, but she's still a top student at Kingswell University. If she went down the wrong path, it must've been a mistake."

Then, she took my hand and spoke softly, like she was giving advice. "You grew up in the Stewart family. Even if they've gone bankrupt, there's still some dignity to uphold. You can't treat every man like he's Josh just because you want money."

I grabbed Josh's hand in a panic, trying to explain, "Josh, this was clearly you…"

His body stiffened, like he was struggling with something.

Whitney shot me a sideways glance full of contempt. "Yvette, everyone knows Josh has never touched you. Who do you think you're fooling with a lie like that?"

Josh, beside me, stared at the marks on my skin, his eyes dark and his brows furrowed.

When I slapped Whitney across the face, everyone froze. "How could I possibly mistake Josh for someone else?"

Not far away, Donald stood there, pain filling his eyes.

Whitney covered her face and collapsed into Josh's arms, crying. "Josh, it hurts…"

Back at the Stewart house, whenever I cried, Josh would get annoyed. So later, even when I was hurt, I never dared to show it in front of him. Only Donald would gently wipe my tears, like they mattered.

Then, Whitney's tears soaked into Josh's expensive custom shirt.

He panicked, trying to comfort her. He said soft words and gave her tender attention. Then, he turned and kicked me to the ground.

"Yvette, I really thought you meant it when you said you'd live through hard times with me. Turns out you never change."

Live through hard times with him? When we got engaged, I truly wanted to walk that path with him. I believed, just a little, that he cared about me too.

Hence, for an entire year, I waited for him to end the game and tell me the truth. However, he never once stepped into that rented basement. He let Donald take his place and lie to me however he wanted.

Now, he stood there, acting like a husband who caught his wife cheating. His voice dripped with sarcasm. "Let's see if you can really recognize me."

He dragged me up to the top floor. Inside the room stood all kinds of men. Their leering gazes locked onto me, like they wanted to tear me apart.

"Didn't you say you'd never mistake me? Find me, and we'll get married. However, if you get it wrong, apologize to Whitney and get out of the Stewart family."

He turned away, leaving me to be swallowed by the crowd. Hands brushed over me. Hot breath grazed my ears. It was enough to make me sick.

Whitney watched with a satisfied smile. "You seemed so confident earlier. Picking him out should be easy, right?"

Josh sat down beside her, looking down at everything like it was just a show—like I did not matter at all. Just as I was struggling desperately, a pair of familiar hands grabbed mine.

My pale face slowly broke into a smile.

"Got you, Josh."