Chapter 2

Early the next morning, Julian got up, saying he had to head back to the site.

I smiled and saw him out the door. Then, I changed my clothes and quietly followed him.

I had been too blind all these years.

I had never doubted his feelings for me, never once suspected that he was lying through his teeth.

Sure enough, Julian walked straight into a five-star hotel not far from our neighborhood—a luxury establishment I would never have dared to even step into.

"Julian, you really have too much free time," a sharply dressed man said, throwing an arm over Julian's shoulder near the lobby entrance. "What, haven't you had enough of playing house with that girl yet?"

"Look at you, dressing like a bum. If Elena saw you looking like this, her heart would break."

Hearing that name made my entire body shudder.

Of course. If there was a son, there had to be a mother.

Yesterday, I was too overwhelmed by his fake poverty to realize the obvious: he might have had a family all along.

Julian’s tone sounded heavy. "Drop it. She turned down my proposal five years ago. She's living a great life abroad right now."

The man looked surprised. "No one told you? Elena's coming back to the country soon. You two will be reunited before you know it."

Julian stopped in his tracks. "Are you serious?"

The man clapped Julian on the back. "Of course I am. Take a piece of advice from a friend—if you want to make things work with Elena, ditch that broke girl right away. Don't let her ruin your chance."

Crouched behind a marble pillar, the world spun around me as I listened.

Then, Julian's reply made my knees buckle completely.

After a brief pause, he smiled at his friend.

"Got it. I'll lay my cards on the table with her in a few days."

I wandered back to our rental in a daze and collapsed onto the mattress, devoid of all energy.

The drip bucket under the leaky bathroom faucet must have overflowed again. Listening to the steady patter of water, my tears soaked the pillow beneath my head.

Memories dragged me back seven years.

I first met Julian outside a local community center.

He was wearing a crisp white dress shirt. When I tripped and fell on the pavement, he helped me up.

"Are you okay? Do you need me to take you to urgent care?"

I shook my head, but he insisted on taking my number, telling me to call him if anything hurt later.

Before I could ever dial his number, our paths crossed again.

"What's wrong with you, busboy? Spilling drinks all over my buddy! Are you blind?"

Holding a tray, Julian stood outside a VIP lounge with his head down, being shoved around by several aggressive men.

Without thinking, I rushed in to pull them apart. Julian took a punch to the face trying to shield me.

"I'm so sorry, Chloe. I hit rock bottom and had no choice but to work here. I didn't think I'd mess up even a simple job like this."

As I dabbed antiseptic on his cut lip, his eyes were wet with tears.

His naturally striking features looked so vulnerable, so utterly heartbreaking.

"Why do you say you hit rock bottom?"

That night, Julian held me close and poured his heart out.

He told me he fell in love with me the moment he saw me, but he had no money and was buried under mountains of debt. He didn't know how to confess his feelings, so running into me again felt like destiny.

And then, I said the words I would regret for the rest of my life.

"Julian, I don't have any money either. How could I ever look down on you?"

God, I was laughably naive.

Maybe he really did feel a spark when he first saw me, but it was nothing more than shallow physical attraction.

Looking back, the guy who yelled the loudest at him that night was the exact same friend walking beside him today with an arm over his shoulder.

"Chloe, you idiot. You let a man play you for seven whole years," I whispered to the empty room.

Suddenly, the front door clicked open, and Julian's voice came through.

"Chloe, I'm back. Were you just talking to someone?"

I quickly wiped my tears. "No, just a video on my phone."

Julian didn't think twice about it. He flopped onto the bed, grabbed my hand, and rested his head on my shoulder like a tired child.

"This morning was brutal. My arms are killing me."

I squeezed his forearm and asked casually, "Where is this site anyway? Is it indoors? How come your skin is still so pale?"

His skin wasn't just pale—it was smooth and soft, showing none of the wear and tear of a man working manual labor in the heat.

Julian offered an awkward laugh and sat up. "Of course it's indoors. Under this sun? I wouldn't do outdoor labor for twenty-five bucks an hour."

I wrapped my fingers around his cool hand. "Julian, we've been together a long time. I want to get married."

He froze for a fraction of a second. "Chloe... you know we don't have the money right now..."

He looked up at me, his eyes brimming with apparent sincerity. "It's my fault. I haven't worked hard enough to give you a better life."

Slowly, I let go of his hand and closed my eyes.

Just last night, he threw around millions without blinking to celebrate his son's birthday.

Yet when I asked about marriage, he told me he was too poor.

I took a deep breath and looked directly into his eyes, searching for a single shred of guilt.

"Julian, is there anything you're hiding from me?"