My girlfriend is the true heiress of a wealthy family, yet she suffers from severe paranoia. She's convinced that everyone is out to exploit her.

She never believed in my love. In her eyes, I stayed with her only for status and money.

To prove my sincerity, during our seven years together, I never spent a single cent of hers. I handed over every paycheck I earned.

As for myself, I couldn't even afford a few dollars for a taxi. Every day, I walked five kilometers to work.

Then one day, my mother was in a sudden car accident. The doctor called and told me to come see her for the last time.

The hospital was thirty kilometers away. There was no way I could make it on foot in time.

Left with no choice, I asked my girlfriend to transfer me thirty dollars for a taxi.

She flew into a rage.

"Simon, thirty dollars is your entire monthly living expense. How dare you ask me for that much all at once? I almost believed your feelings were genuine. But now I see—you're no different from those gold-diggers!"

In the end, I never made it to see my mother one last time.

When I returned home in a daze, I found my girlfriend throwing a birthday party for her childhood sweetheart.

He was wearing the latest luxury watch, his face full of smug pride.

"This is the one you bought at an overseas auction, right? Worth thirty million," he said. "You wouldn't even give Simon thirty dollars for a taxi. You're really generous with me."

My girlfriend smiled indulgently.

"It's only thirty million. It's not like I can't afford it.

"Besides, how could Simon ever compare to you? Today, he dares to ask me for thirty. Tomorrow, he'll dare to ask me for thirty thousand.

"I've always known it. He's been with me just to take my money."

I stood there, frozen, my heart sinking into the abyss.

'It's fine. I don't want her money anymore. And I don't want her, either.'

I pushed the door open, and the noise inside the room came to an abrupt halt.

Seeing my pale face, Claire Musk looked annoyed.

"So what if I didn't give you thirty dollars? Who are you trying to scare with that expression, like you're attending a funeral? You're just like those gold-diggers—reeking of greed and utterly vulgar!"

Hearing these insults with my own ears, I felt nothing at all. Not anger. Not sorrow. Not even disappointment.

When Claire walked toward me, I calmly took a step back—avoiding the nauseating scent clinging to her, a mixture that clearly belonged to another man.

Noticing my movement, she let out a mocking laugh.

"What? I say a couple of words, and now you're throwing a tantrum?

"Today is Justin's birthday. If you won't celebrate with us, fine—but do you have to look so miserable? Do you have any manners at all?

"Enough. I'll give you one more chance. Go apologize to Justin right now."

I looked at her matter-of-fact expression, and my chest tightened with both coldness and anger.

"Apologize? For what? This is my home—what manners do I owe anyone here? And as for Justin, he's an outsider. Why does he have to hold his birthday party here, of all places? This is trespassing!"

Claire froze. She clearly hadn't expected me—who had always obeyed her without question—to talk back.

Embarrassed and furious, she raised her hand and slapped me hard across the face.

She was about to start yelling when Justin Miller stepped in with a show of false concern.

"Alright, Clairebear. Simon probably didn't mean it. After all, he asked you for thirty dollars today and didn't get it. It's normal for him to feel upset.

"There's always a gap between poor people and us. You've been together for so many years—surely he must want something from you, right?"

The implication was obvious. Claire's expression darkened immediately.

"Simon, I never thought you were this kind of person. Since you couldn't get money from me directly, you decided to play mind games, is that it?

"Forget it. Today is Justin's birthday, and I don't want to argue with you. Didn't you want thirty dollars? Fine. As long as you apologize, I'll give it to you."

Looking at her condescending stance, I suddenly felt like laughing.

Seven years in love—I had given Claire everything I had.

Yet Claire was willing to give Justin a wristwatch worth thirty million, while refusing to give me even thirty dollars for a taxi.

Because of that, I missed my mother's last moments and would carry that regret for the rest of my life.

I clenched my fists, forcing down the bitterness in my chest.

"I don't need your charity. All I want is for you and Justin to get out of my house."

Claire stared at me in disbelief, her face twisting with anger.

"What did you say? You dare tell me to get out? All this over thirty dollars?

"I knew it—I was right about you. You're nothing but a gold-digger! The moment you realized you couldn't squeeze money out of me, your attitude changed. Is money all you see?"

Justin shot me a mocking glance and spoke up at just the right moment.

"Simon, how can you treat Clairebear like this? She's the young lady of the Musk family, lowering herself to be with someone like you. You should be grateful and think twice about making her angry. Don't you just want money? Fine. I'll give it to you."

With that, he casually took out a bank card and tossed it in front of me.

The instant I saw the number on the card, my whole body began to tremble.

That card… had once been mine.

I had given it to Claire. Every year, I deposited a fixed sum of one hundred thousand into it—it was supposed to be the money for our wedding.

We had agreed that when the balance reached one million, we would get married.

But now, this card—once filled with all my hopes and dreams—was in another man's hands.

Worse still, he was returning it to me as if tossing scraps to a beggar.

At last, I could no longer hold back my tears.

Justin looked at me, his eyes full of ridicule.

"Clairebear, looks like your boyfriend really is desperate for money. It's just a card, and he's already this emotional."

Claire's expression darkened. Clearly, she no longer remembered what that card meant to me.

"Stop talking. Just thinking about how I spent so many years with someone as money-grubbing as him makes me want to throw up."

Justin smiled in satisfaction, then continued, "Clairebear, since Simon made you so angry, shouldn't you teach him a lesson? Isn't money what he cares about most? Ask him to transfer this apartment to you. When he earns enough to buy it back, you can return it to him."

This apartment was bought for me by my mother after I graduated from college, using the savings she had scraped together over half her life.

It was my only shelter—and the only thing she had left me.

Yet, Claire hesitated for no more than a second before agreeing to Justin's proposal.

"Simon, Justin is right. A person as greedy as you deserves to be punished with the thing you care about most. Write a transfer agreement right now and sign this apartment over to me. Otherwise, don't even think about me forgiving you."

Looking at her as if this were only natural, my heart twisted in pain.

"Claire, we've been together for so many years. What have I ever done to deserve this? Why must you treat me this way?"

Perhaps my voice sounded too desperate, because for a brief moment, Claire seemed at a loss.

She was about to say something when Justin cut in with a cold laugh.

"Simon, I didn't expect you to be so good at playing the victim. You look honest enough, but when it matters, you resort to cheap tricks. Clairebear isn't stupid. Do you really think putting on a little show will make her soften her heart?"

Provoked by Justin's words, Claire's face gradually turned cold.

"Simon, are these material things really that important to you?

"I'll give you one last chance. Transfer the apartment to me, and I'll believe your feelings are genuine. Otherwise, it only proves you're full of schemes and that you've been with me all along for ulterior motives."

Listening to the threat hidden in her words, I felt nothing but disappointment and a bitter sense of irony.

She and Justin played their parts in perfect harmony, completely indifferent to how I felt.

"Think whatever you want. I will never give you the apartment. Push me any further, and I'll take you down with me," I said.

Claire clearly hadn't expected me to be so unyielding. In fury, she flipped the table over.

"Simon, you've got some nerve! You poor people really know how to scheme. I must have been blind to fall for you!"

Hearing the contempt in her words, I let out a cold laugh.

"If that's the case, then you might as well be with Justin. In your eyes, he's the one who truly matches you."

At that, Claire grabbed my arm. There was anger in her eyes, but also guilt.

"What nonsense are you talking about? Justin and I are just friends! We were only joking with you. You're the one who took it seriously! And look at this dump of an apartment—so shabby and poor. I wouldn't want it even if you gave it to me for free!"

Watching her desperately argue, I suddenly felt sick to my stomach.

This was the woman I had loved at all costs for seven years. Only now did I finally see her true face.

"Whether it's nonsense or not, you know the truth yourself. And I don't want to keep dragging this out anymore. Let's break up."

Claire's expression changed instantly. She stared at me in disbelief.

"What did you say? What right do you have to break up with me? Are you seriously breaking up with me over thirty dollars?"

Even now, she still thought it was because of those thirty dollars.

But I no longer wanted to explain.

"Believe whatever you want. Either way, we're finished. Congratulations. From now on, you don't have to worry about me trying to take your money anymore."

With that, I shook off her hand and went straight into the bedroom.

Behind me came Claire's furious scream.

"Simon! You'd better not regret this!"

…

I tossed and turned all night. Early the next morning, I went to the company and submitted my resignation.

When the HR staff saw me, they immediately began whispering among themselves.

"He's Simon Ashton? Ms. Musk's boyfriend?"

"I wonder how much Ms. Musk gave him. He doesn't even care about his performance bonus!"

"Exactly. That was a car—worth tens of thousands!"

Hearing them, I was stunned.

"What bonus? What car? What are you talking about?"

Seeing my confusion, they exchanged looks.

"Simon, you didn't know? Last year, because of your outstanding performance, the board rewarded you with a car. But Ms. Musk said you didn't lack money, so she stepped in and donated the car on your behalf."

So… I could have had a car.

If I'd had that car, I wouldn't have had to walk to work through freezing winters and scorching summers.

I wouldn't have been unable to afford even the subway, arriving at my desk breathless and drenched in sweat, enduring the strange looks from my coworkers.

And I wouldn't have missed my mother's final moments over thirty dollars for a taxi.

Bitterness spread across my lips. At this moment, I hated myself more than anything. I hated the foolish man who had once been blinded by love.

My resignation still needed Claire's signature to take effect. After leaving HR, I went straight to her office.

The moment I pushed the door open, a shrill, embarrassed scream rang out inside.

Claire scrambled off Justin, her clothes disheveled, her face full of panic.

"Simon, why are you here? Listen to me—Justin hurt his back. I was just helping him massage it!"

I gave a cold laugh, not believing a single word.

Claire was about to say more when Justin spoke up at just the right moment.

"Simon, you're not here to beg Clairebear to get back together, are you?

"Weren't you so tough yesterday? What—now that Clairebear didn't try to win you back, you can't take it anymore? You can't bear to let go of the rich woman you finally managed to cling to?"

At his words, the guilt on Claire's face slowly faded, replaced by arrogance and mockery.

"Simon, I really overestimated you. Sure enough, trash like you could never leave me."