When Darryl’s hand grabbed my arm to shove me out, I instinctively pulled away. “This is my house! If anyone should leave, it’s you two.”

Darryl crossed his arms and laughed, as if I’d just told him a joke. “Your house? Don’t make me laugh, June. This place is rented. Your classmate’s cousin is the landlord. What does it have to do with you?”

I lifted my chin defiantly and shouted back, “I only set that up to avoid hurting your ego! I wanted you to live comfortably, not crammed in a single room like before. I bought this place myself and had my friend act like the landlord so you wouldn’t feel ashamed. Do you really think you’d find a place like this for just a thousand bucks a month?”

“I don’t have time for this!” Darryl snapped, his voice loud enough to rattle the walls. “If this place is really yours, then show me the deed. Prove it then I’ll leave. But if you can’t, then stop wasting my time.”

His words stung, hitting me square in my weak spot. I clenched my fists and replied through gritted teeth, “The deed is at my parents’ house.”

He scoffed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “How convenient. Well then, why don’t you go and get it? I’m done with all your nonsenses.”

Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed my wrist and dragged me toward the door. His strength left me no room to resist and before I knew it, the door slammed shut behind me.

Rubbing the sore red marks on my arm, I let out a shaky breath and turned to leave.

It was late by the time I arrived at my parents’ house. The warm glow of the living room lights spilled onto the porch, where I could hear the faint hum of the TV. When I stepped inside, my mom looked up, surprised to see me.

“Honey,” she said cautiously, “didn’t you say your boyfriend was going to propose today? Why do you come alone?”

Hearing her words, my chest tightened and my eyes stung with unshed tears. When Darryl told me to go to the hotel, I didn't go. Instead, I went to my parents' house. With great joy and excitement I told them that Darryl was probably preparing a proposal party for me. I’d even promised to bring him by to meet them afterward.

But now, the memory of him kneeling with a ring for Courtney played on repeat in my mind and the tears I’d been holding back came rushing out. I collapsed onto the couch and buried my face in my mom’s shoulder.

“He proposed...but not to me,” I choked out. “We break up, Mom. I don’t want him anymore.”

I could feel her body stiffened. 

“What? How could that happen? You two always seemed fine. Oh, my poor baby,” she said softly, rubbing my back in soothing circles. “It’s okay. He’s just one man. If he doesn’t see your worth, he doesn’t deserve you. You’ll find someone better, I promise.”

Meanwhile, my dad shot up from his chair, his face flushed with anger. “Where is that little punk? Take me to him right now. I’ll make sure he never messes with you again.”

I shook my head, forcing a weak smile, “I don’t want that. What I really need now is some delicious food. Do we have them?”

Eating had always been my comfort, my way of patching up the cracks when things got too hard to bear.

My dad softened at my request, muttering under his breath before saying, “We’ve got some of your favorite crab meat buns in the fridge. I’ll heat them up for you.”

Hearing that made me tear up all over again.

Funny enough, those buns were part of what drove a wedge between Darryl and me in the first place.

We’d met during our junior year of college. He was hosting a campus event and his looks immediately caught my attention. Being the shameless romantic that I was, I chased after him for three months before he finally agreed to date me.

My parents didn’t oppose the relationship, but they had one condition: I couldn’t tell him about our family’s wealth until things were serious.

At the time, I was annoyed by their request. It felt elitist, especially since they owned a chain of high-end restaurants where the cheapest dish cost more than most people’s weekly groceries.

Darryl, on the other hand, came from humble beginnings. He was a small-town boy who paid his tuition through part-time jobs. To me, that only made him more admirable. 

I was very confident that he loved me, rich or poor.

When I first met Darryl, I hadn’t told him about my family’s financial situation. He had never asked, either, apart from one offhand comment.

It was the time I brought some crab-filled buns my dad had made to school. Darryl loved them and while eating one, he joked, “These are really good. Your parents don’t happen to run a food stall selling these, do they?”

I had laughed and said yes, playing along with the joke. He didn’t ask me anything further about my family after that.

Looking back now, I realized he probably believed it. He must have assumed my parents were just small-time street vendors. Maybe that’s why he never saw a future with me, even back then.

His actions had always reflected that assumption. Whenever I tried to help him financially or surprise him with gifts, he’d tell me not to waste money and to be considerate of how hard my parents must have worked. When I decided to pursue my dream of becoming an illustrator, he hesitated but eventually said I should follow my heart and that he’d handle the rest—even though his salary wasn’t much to begin with. But the truth was, his salary was only about 2000 dollar a month. 

When my parents heard this they were speechless. But they were relieved I hadn’t married him yet, grateful I had stopped before it went too far.

One night before bed, I called my best friend, who was on a business trip in another city. We needed to discuss the issue of moving out.

The apartment Darryl was living in was actually mine.

Because Darryl had a few thousand yuan in student loans, he had to work part-time as a delivery driver while interning during the day. He was living in a cramped room, barely big enough for a bed, in a run-down rental. I felt so sorry for him that I used my pocket money, which my parents had given me, to buy a two-bedroom apartment near his workplace.

I arranged for a classmate to tell Darryl that her cousin had gone abroad and left behind a property she wanted to rent out. She wasn’t trying to make money; she just wanted someone to manage the place, so she offered it to him for just a thousand yuan a month. Darryl agreed to rent it and I moved in with him.

Now, we had been living together for almost a year. Looking back, I was grateful that we always slept in separate rooms and nothing romantic ever happened between us.

My best friend, after hearing about everything, was furious. She promised me that once she finished her work, she’d come back immediately and we’d deal with that scumbag together.

During the few days while I waited for her, I spent my time eating all sorts of delicious food. When I was with Darryl, I never accepted my parents' money and lived off my own salary, trying to make ends meet. Everything from my meals to my clothes had been the simplest, most ordinary stuff. I even started learning how to cook, something I had never done before. It made me reflect a lot and I was amazed at how far I was willing to go for him.

I really did give him my heart, but in the end, it was all for nothing.

During this time, I also took on a commission to create a drawing. It was from a mother who adored her daughter. She wanted to preserve a beautiful dream her daughter had shared with her, hoping someone could capture it in art for her to cherish forever.

My major in college had been in management, not art. Drawing was just a hobby, but when I discovered the profession of dream illustration, I was fascinated and thought it sounded beautiful. My parents had always supported me, no matter how little money I might make. They just wanted me to be happy.

Darryl had once told me the same thing. He said it was a great career, one that would allow me to spend more time with our future kids without missing out on their upbringing.

But now I realized he had never respected my work. While stringing me along and treating me like a backup plan, he had been looking for someone who could replace me.

My best friend returned on the weekend. She came straight to my place from the airport. After we had dinner together, we hired some movers and went to find Darryl.

Darryl hadn’t changed the password, so we easily got into the apartment. But when we looked around, he wasn’t there.

When I opened the door to my room, I pushed it open and saw a bald man lying on my bed, lazily scrolling through his phone. He was shirtless, his rough, dark skin on full display and his legs were crossed in a way that made me want to scream. The sounds of heavy breathing came from his phone and I realized he was watching some inappropriate video.

Fury surged through me. I stormed in and demanded, “Who are you? Who let you into my room?”