My Fake Poor Girlfriend

Did she ever really love me all these years, or was I just a pet she kept for fun?

Across from me, she took two bites and stopped, barely hiding the disgust in her expression.

I stared into her eyes and asked, “Wren, how much is left of your family’s debt?”

…

Her hand stiffened, her gaze drifting.

“My mom said… there’s still about nine hundred thousand left.”

I stayed calm.

“When we were freshmen, you said it was a million. It’s been five years. How is there still over nine hundred thousand?”

She finally remembered what she had told me back then. Panicking, she threw down her chopsticks, ran over, and crouched in front of me.

“I’m sorry, Aran. I kept it from you…

“My dad got sick. My mom borrowed money for his treatment, so we owe more now… Are you mad at me? Our family’s debt is just too much…”

She kept apologizing, her fingers gripping my wrist.

However, this same hand had just spent over a million dollars at the mall just because another man had grown tired of staying in the villa and needed cheering up.

I swallowed hard, forcing down the lump in my throat.

“I’m not mad at you. I just think we can’t go on like this forever.”

“How about this? When we go back home this time, we’ll arrange for both families to meet. Then we’ll get married. After that, I’ll take responsibility as the head of the household and help you repay the debt with everything I have.”

Her fingers trembled, cold sweat forming in her palm.

She looked straight at me. I had loved her for five years, but today, I couldn’t tell what was in her eyes.

Was it irritation or anger?

As time passed, she calmed down and reached out to touch the tear mole under my right eye.

“Okay. When we go home for the New Year, we’ll talk about getting married.”

Though she was still as sincere as ever, how many lies were beneath it?

I gripped her hand in return and nodded firmly.

Wren, this is your last chance.

Our tickets were for four in the afternoon on New Year’s Eve. We dragged our suitcases and took the bus to the train station.

Along the way, Wren kept replying to messages, each one making her frown.

I pretended not to notice and turned slightly, opening Matt’s profile.

[That broke loser actually dares to take my sugar mommy. How shameless!]

[Just wait. Let’s see who matters more to her—you or me!]

More messages came in for Wren, and she slowly grew restless. When the bus reached a stop, she suddenly stood up.

“Aran, something happened to my friend at the barbecue place. I need to go check on her.

“You go home first. Don’t let your parents wait too long.”

I stood up as well. “I’ll go with you. It’ll help to have another person.”

“No need!”

She reacted sharply, then realized I hadn’t actually tried to stop her.

A trace of awkwardness crossed her face. The doors opened, and she got off without hesitation.

“You go home first. Stay safe.”

She hailed a taxi and left in the opposite direction.

The bus continued toward the train station. I held onto the seat and sat down, staring straight ahead.

Matt had won. He mattered more.

Tears fell. I took out my phone and recorded a short clip of myself, my voice choked with emotion.

Then I put together all the photos I had taken with Wren over the years into one video.

“I’ve been with my girlfriend for five years. I worked four jobs to help pay off her debts, but her family’s debt just keeps growing. Today we were supposed to go home together for New Year’s, but she said something happened at the barbecue place and left again.

“Sigh… I guess I’ve failed as a boyfriend. I don’t even know when her debts will be paid off. Living on plain buns and pickles every day is just too hard…”

As the train started moving, I posted it.

I put all the money I had grabbed from Matt’s livestream into boosting it.

Wren, those who lie have to swallow a thousand needles.

Starting today, you can take your time swallowing them.

I won’t be staying to watch.