The disdain in Christopher's gaze and tone was evident, and there was a look of scorn on his face that I'd never seen in the past.

He thought I was disgusting?

I felt like a nail was being driven into my heart. It hurt so badly that I trembled while sucking in a deep breath. I clenched my fists, letting my nails bite into my palms. The pain was nothing compared to the one in my heart, though.

I'd worked all hours of the day to get enough money for him to treat his legs. During the day, I would make food deliveries. At night, I would wash dishes at a hotel. I'd done all of this so I could earn 20 thousand dollars as soon as possible.

My hands became cracked after everything I'd put them through, and the pain was sometimes so intense that I couldn't sleep at night. I'd never complained, though.

It turned out all I was getting in exchange for everything I'd done over the past three years was Christopher's disgust.

I was a young woman—how could I not want my hands to feel soft and supple? I'd just felt that his legs mattered more than anything.

He would make everything better when he held my hands as we snuggled in our tiny apartment. The heartache in his eyes had looked so genuine as he'd said, "I'm sorry, Daph. It's all my fault for dragging you down."

That was my first time feeling like someone cared about me. His eyes had been bright, and he'd looked like a puppy that was afraid of being abandoned. I'd held him comfortingly and told him not to overthink things, that I would make sure his legs were treated.

I thought we were lovers who only had each other—I thought we were family. Yet he was now telling his friends that he thought I was disgusting.

In the past, Christopher had told me that he couldn't bear to take things further with me. Now, I discovered it was because he found me dirty and repulsive.

His legs would occasionally act up, leaving him wheelchair-bound. Now, I learned it was because he just wanted to trick me and so he wouldn't have to go to work.

Christopher wrapped an arm around the woman beside him. He took the bracelet I'd just retrieved with my life on the line and threw it back into the ocean. Then, he said arrogantly, "The bracelet isn't worthy of you anymore, Edie. It's been dirtied by the ocean water."

He handed her a gold card. "There's a million dollars in this account. Use it to buy something you like."

I'd almost died while trying to retrieve that bracelet, but it seemed it was nothing more than a game to him and his friends. I was a pawn that could be discarded at any moment.

I dragged myself to a deserted corner and rested there while caressing the red string bracelet on my wrist. Christopher had given it to me.

"I made this lucky bracelet for you, Daph. I hope you don't think it's too cheap. Promise me you'll have it on at all times, okay?" He'd looked at me with bright eyes while putting it on for me. It was the only gift I'd received since childhood.

It was made of cheap red string, but I'd treated it like it was a precious treasure. Even when working, I would take it off and carefully tuck it into one of my pockets. I didn't want to dirty it.

It was something precious to me, but it had only been something he'd used to brush me off. What had he been thinking when giving it to me? Had he been thinking about what a fool I was for being so enchanted by a dumb piece of string? Or had he been mocking me for being pathetic?

He probably thought I was as cheap and worthless as the string bracelet.

Fortunately, my mask was still in place. No one recognized me. It was a way for me to protect the remnants of my dignity.

…

I returned to the small rented apartment Christopher and I shared. I'd once thought it was my safe place and one where I could feel like I was loved—it had been a source of energy for me.

Christopher sat in his wheelchair with his back to me. It was almost as if the man I'd seen on the cruise ship wasn't him.

"You're back, Daph." He turned the wheelchair around and came to me, revealing a small segment of his toned legs.

He'd been paralyzed for years, yet his muscles hadn't atrophied. I should've suspected him long ago.

Christopher's eyes were bright as he looked at me. He almost seemed like a loving husband who'd been expectantly waiting for his wife's return. That was how he'd managed to trick me for years.

I handed him a bank card. There were 20 thousand dollars in the account. I looked into his eyes and said, "I've earned enough money for your surgery."

A trace of surprise flashed in his eyes, but he soon suppressed it. I continued, "My boss gave me the money as a reward for helping him find something he'd lost."

I tried to detect a hint of guilt in his eyes—even the slightest hint would make me feel better. There was nothing, though.

He smiled at me and held me close. "Thanks for everything you've done, Daph. I'll make sure to repay you once my legs are treated."

He didn't seem surprised by the amount. I supposed 20 thousand dollars meant nothing to him.

A slight pain came from my arm, making me hiss softly. A trace of heartache flashed in Christopher's eyes as he blew on my wound. He murmured, "Does it hurt? How did you get injured? You're so careless, Daph. What will you do without me by your side?"

It was a stark contrast to him calling me disgusting on the cruise ship. It was as if the whole thing had been a nightmare I'd conjured.

I gritted my teeth and asked, "Do you have anything to say to me?"

He thought about it seriously while holding me. "I do. I missed you so much, Daph."

Christopher buried his head in the crook of my neck. He was still lying to me.

I pushed him away gently and said, "I'm tired. I'm going to bed."

As I turned my back to him, I recalled him knocking on my door three years ago while covered in blood. He'd asked me to save him. The blood had come from his leg—he seemed to have been in an accident. He'd looked like a wounded stray.

He'd told me he was an orphan and had nowhere to go. Coincidentally, I was also an orphan. I'd been alone since leaving the orphanage.

I'd taken him in and cared for him. When the doctors informed us Christopher had to be operated on to walk again, I'd told him I would make it happen. He'd held me tightly and told me no one had ever treated him that well.

Now, I knew it was all a lie.

Since Mr. Linden Senior's death, Linden Group had undergone a reshuffling of powers. Christopher had pretended to be crippled so he could hide in my apartment and escape his uncles, who were trying to hunt him down. He'd even gotten a friend who was a doctor to lie to me.

Now that he was ready to return, he no longer had to keep the act up. He could bid farewell to his past and restore his identity as the Linden family's scion and heir. I was nothing but a tool and a pawn.

I stayed up the whole night. When I woke up, Christopher was still asleep. I freshened up before leaving the apartment for work.

Three years of working around the clock had numbed me to everything else. I was so busy with food deliveries at noon that I didn't have time to take a break. It was only when I sensed the heat coming from my head that I realized I'd probably gotten a fever.

I pulled out my phone to complain about it to Christopher when I remembered that he was no longer the man I knew. He wasn't the man I believed to share the same fate as me and who could understand me.

I was about to put my phone away when I received a push notification about a trending news article. "The Linden family's heir regains power and celebrates his fiancée's birthday."

My heart ached when I saw Christopher's familiar face. Was he that eager to get rid of me? He'd hurried to celebrate his fiancée's birthday almost as soon as I'd left the apartment.

The photo in the article showed a lavishly decorated hall. Christopher had an arm around the young woman I'd seen on the deck. He half-held her hand as they cut the cake together. Her hands were slender and flawless—it was clear she'd taken good care of them.

I repeatedly scrutinized the photo. The cake was gigantic—it was an eight-layered one, and there were even small figurines of a couple kissing on top of it.

Rumor had it Christopher had made the cake himself. It turned out he was willing to go the extra mile for these things.

On my birthday, all I'd gotten was a cake that was close to the expiry date with a single candle on it. We'd celebrated in our dim apartment; he'd covered my eyes while singing me the birthday song. I'd been moved to tears.

I supposed he thought he could just brush me off with anything. After all, he wouldn't spend more than necessary on me.

In his eyes, I only deserved to have a cheap bracelet, wear cheap clothes, and be moved to tears by a cheap cake and birthday song.

Bitter tears welled in my eyes. I wiped them away; the calluses on my fingers made my eyes hurt. I felt like a creep who could only secretly watch as other people had their happy-ever-afters.

I started texting Christopher to tell him I wanted to break up with him. Before I could finish, the restaurant's manager called my name. It was lunch hour, and it was so busy that I wished I could sprout a few more pairs of hands.

I ran around, feeling so weak in the legs that I could collapse at any second. The fever was getting to me, so I accidentally ran into a customer while serving food.

The pain from the hot food spilling on my arm cleared my mind for a brief moment. Then, the sound of things shattering made my heart sink.

I stared at the broken bracelet on the floor. In the next second, I was slapped hard.

"How the heck were you trying to serve the food? Are you blind? Look at how you've broken my bracelet! You'd better start thinking about how you're going to pay me back for it!

"God, why did this have to happen to me? I bet you don't even know what this bracelet is made of—it's a diamond one. You can work until the day you die, but you still won't be able to repay me for it! It's worth 50 thousand dollars!"