My entrepreneur boyfriend and I had been living in a tiny rental, eating bread every day.

Then one day, I saw his name on the Young Entrepreneurs List.

Not only was he the CEO of my company's biggest competitor, but he was also worth over 100 million.

For my birthday, my boyfriend gave me a cheap little cake from the supermarket instead of a real birthday cake. After I took the cake, which was barely bigger than my palm, out of the plastic bag, he stuck a candle in it and turned off the lights, telling me to make a wish.

I stared at the flickering candle in the dark.

Eventually, I reached over and ruffled his fuzzy hair, which felt a little stiff but still oddly satisfying to touch.

"Lance! It's my birthday, and this is what you're giving me? A tiny cake like this? You think you're so funny, huh?"

In the darkness, he grabbed my wrist before pulling me into his arms.

"Last year, I ordered a cake for your birthday, and you lectured me for wasting money," he said, his voice tinged with a touch of mock sadness.

"This year, I didn't waste any money. These little cakes are perfect. They're cheap and practical, and you get to eat them for three days."

-

My boyfriend, Lance Gill, and I were the infamous poor couple in our apartment building, Unit 21 of Block 4.

It was probably because I once stood in front of the local supermarket for hours, waiting to buy dead fish from our neighbor, a fishmonger. She had been telling everyone in the hallway ever since that I was a useless youth, always looking for cheap deals.

-

I leaned back on the couch, trying to use my feet to spin the fan, which was wobbling.

Suddenly, I felt my ankle being gripped.

Lance, with one hand holding my ankle, used his other hand to adjust the fan.

"Stop sitting in front of the fan all the time; you'll catch a cold," he said.

"A cold?"

I tugged at my collar to show him.

"Look at all the sweat on me, and you think I'm going to catch a cold?"

He glanced at me with half-lidded eyes. If he weren't so ridiculously handsome, I would have kicked him.

Well, women are complicated. He gave me a supermarket cake for my birthday, and I still got mad.

But I didn't say anything. I wanted him to figure out why I was upset on his own.

I watched as he gently loosened his grip on my ankle, and his body shifted closer.

His eyes were growing darker.

Lance and I had been together for five years, and I knew him too well.

I grabbed a cushion and hugged it against my body.

"I'm telling you, Lance, not today. I'm in a bad mood! I—"

Before I could finish, he suddenly yanked my wrist upward.

When I opened my eyes, I noticed a small watch on my wrist.

It was beautiful.

It was, by far, the prettiest watch I'd ever seen.

Inside, there were tiny, sparkling gems that caught the light every time I moved my wrist. I shook it, and the gems moved around, like sand in an hourglass.

Of course, I didn't really believe they were real diamonds.

I nudged him with my elbow.

"Hey, how much was this watch?"

He glanced at the watch for a moment before answering.

"About 30 dollars. I bought it online."

"I see..."

I nodded before turning on the TV. To save on the electricity bill, I turned off the living room lights.

In the dim light from the TV, I admired the new watch on my wrist.

The small, sparkling gems looked like a galaxy. It was such a beautiful watch, and it wasn't even expensive.

Feeling much better now, I kissed the corner of his mouth.

He raised an eyebrow.

From that point on, things seemed to shift, and the TV, along with the slow-moving fan, no longer mattered.

-

The next day at work, I wore the watch.

It was a delicate, feminine style, and the tiny diamonds inside sparkled even more in the daylight.

My coworker sitting next to me saw it and playfully nudged me.

"Your boyfriend gave you this, huh?"

I nodded.

So, pretty much everyone around me knew I was dating a guy who was building his business.

"Wow, it's so pretty! It must have cost a fortune, right?"

I shook my head, about to explain that it only cost 30 bucks online.

But before I could get the words out, a sharp, condescending voice cut through.

"Of course, it's not expensive. After all, it's a fake watch!"

I always felt like Margot Booth wasn't here to work—she was here for a runway show. The moment she walked in, the heavy scent of perfume followed her. She tossed her hair, and then proudly displayed her phone for us to see.

On the screen was a picture of the exact same watch I had on my wrist. Below it was the price tag:

428,999 dollars.

That was an amount I would need a while to pronounce.

"I doubt your broke boyfriend could make this much money in his whole life."

She threw me a side glance. I looked down at the watch on my wrist and nodded.

"Yeah, this watch really only cost 30 bucks. The 'diamonds' inside are probably just glass. But you know what? My boyfriend only has that much to spare, so that's what he bought me. He's loyal, and he's only good to me. Meanwhile, your boyfriend… didn't he walk in holding two girls in front of all of us that day?"

-

Margot's boyfriend was the son of one of the supervisors at our company—a typical rich kid who liked to flirt around. Margot had worked hard to climb up to his level.

I could tell my words had hit a nerve. Her face turned all kinds of colors—white, then red.

"I don't even know how you have the nerve to wear a fake watch! You really like knockoffs, huh? How shameless!"

She was clearly getting flustered, but I'd never been the type to back down.

"I'll wear whatever I want. You don't get to tell me how to dress. You think it's shameless? Fine, tomorrow I'll bring a hundred fake watches. I'll frame them and hang them right across from you…"

When you lost your shame, you'd become unstoppable. And right then, I was pretty sure Margot was on the verge of throwing up from anger.

But fate had a funny way of working things out. On my way home after work, I saw Margot again. This time, she held up her head so high it could reach the sky.

Her boyfriend had come to pick her up in his convertible Maserati. Of course, that in itself wasn't enough to make her so smug.

What really made her proud was that parked next to his shiny sports car... was my boyfriend's electric scooter.

As she walked past, I could almost hear her heels crushing from all the energy in her prideful stomps.

She got in the car and waved at me.

"Bye, Lisa! You and your little scooter have a long way to go home, huh? Better hope you don't run out of battery halfway!"

I watched them drive off, then hopped onto the back of Lance's scooter.

His waist felt surprisingly firm, and I found it to be the only comfort I had at that moment.

"What's wrong?" Lance raised an eyebrow, glancing back at me.

I told him nothing was wrong and just asked him to keep riding.

The evening breeze wasn't too hot, and sometimes the shadows cast by the high-rise buildings were truly awe-inspiring. But the best part was...

When I saw the traffic jam at rush hour, with Margot's fancy sports car stuck in it, I couldn't help but feel a little victorious.

Clearly, they had been stuck there for a while, and the frustration was evident on their faces.

I turned around from the back of the scooter and waved to them.

"Bye!"

They both shot me a death stare.

We sped off into the night, and I couldn't stop laughing.

Lance shook his head with a resigned sigh. "Sit properly."

"You know what?" I leaned into him, my arms around his waist, as I shouted over the wind, "There are two types of people I can't stand in this world: rich people and liars!"

Suddenly, Lance slammed on the brakes, and I crashed into his back.

I rubbed my nose, grumbling as I pinched his waist.

"What's wrong?"

The man went silent for a moment before shaking his head.

"Nothing."

-

The light bulb at home was broken.

I looked up as he expertly climbed onto the dining table with a chair in hand, trying to fix the stubborn light that wouldn't turn on no matter what.

"Lance, tell me..." I fiddled with the packaging of the new light bulb, aimlessly mumbling, "Do you think rich people are just... better than everyone else?"

He tightened the bulb into place, and suddenly, I remembered how when we first got together, he didn't know how to do anything.

One stormy night, the power went out, and we huddled together in the living room corner. The next day, we realized the circuit breaker had simply been flipped off.

After that, he started learning how to fix things like this.

The light was fixed, and he looked down at me, signaling me to turn it on.

I pressed the switch, and the light flickered a few times before the living room was flooded with brightness again.

He jumped down, grabbed the cup of water I'd just drank from, and took a few sips.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, making him look unexpectedly attractive.

When he saw me staring at him, he sighed and answered, "What are you talking about? Everyone is equal."

"Okay. Lance..."

As he drank, he lifted his eyelids slightly to look at me.

"When are we getting married?"

He nearly spit out the water.

I knew the timing of my question wasn't great.

He was still working on his business, with little money. My mother said that she'd only consider him as my possible husband if he could afford to buy me breakfast worth at least twenty bucks every morning.

Right now, forget twenty bucks—we both had to think carefully about spending even five dollars on a bowl of soup.

"Lisa, about that..."

He habitually tapped his fingers on the table while thinking.

He tilted his head slightly, not looking at me.

"I need to prepare."

Yeah, he needed to prepare. Honestly, I trusted Lance. Even though he hadn't achieved much in these past years and we'd been living like broke college students, I still believed in him.

He'd been an outstanding student, known as one of the brightest talents at our university.

Even our stern, no-nonsense professor had said he was bound for greatness.

-

Just like that, the whole marriage conversation was postponed again.

Before bed, I flipped through the calendar. Lance and I had been together for over five years, yet we still hadn't met each other's parents.

I curled up in the soft, cozy bed and calculated how much I could still save after covering our daily expenses.

His backpack was almost falling apart, and I had been thinking of getting him a new one before the New Year.

-

Lance always left for work earlier than I did.

I was toasting a plain slice of bread while rubbing my messy hair, when, as usual, he came up behind me, wrapped his arms around me, and kissed me.

He kissed different spots every day. Today, it was the tip of my ear.

He was supposed to leave, but now he lingered, leaning on the table for a bit too long.

After a pause, he asked, "Lisa, do you really hate liars?"

Sometimes, the questions he asked made no sense.

I nodded, tugging on his tie.

"What's wrong? Are you hiding something from me?"

His eyes, darker than usual, met mine as I pulled him closer. He stared at me without holding back. Then he smiled, looking like a sly fox.

"I'm not, honey."

He was obviously hiding something, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

-

As usual, I clocked in at work right before the start of my shift.

But this time, there was something different on my desk.

A gift box, and inside it, a woman's handbag.

I asked around, but no one knew where it came from.

Yesterday, Margot had been all smug and arrogant, but today, she looked at me like I was her worst enemy.

I was even more confused.

Until the desk was gently knocked on.

"Hey, I picked out the bag for you. I hope you like it."