He Faked Poor, So I Walked Away

My boyfriend, Elias Whitmore, was broke. He was also deaf and could not speak. To save up for his hearing aids, I worked as a server in the private dining suite of a high-end restaurant. Daphne Voss, the wealthy heiress who often booked that room, once said to me, "Maisie, you really should find a boyfriend with money and a healthy body. Someone like my boyfriend. He dropped twenty million dollars on a piece of jewelry for me without even blinking." She smiled as she held out her glass. "He does have one twisted little hobby, though. He likes pretending he's deaf and mute so he can play girls for fools. I heard there was some i***t before I came along who worked eighteen different jobs just to buy him hearing aids." I lowered my eyes and poured her wine. "My boyfriend would never do that," I said. "He loves me." Just then, the door to the private room opened. A man with a cold, refined air stepped inside and frowned at Daphne. "Darling, are you done eating? I told you not to chat with the servers. Poverty has a way of rubbing off." He lifted the shopping bag in his hand. "I bought you a new Lévère bag. Come take a look." My hand froze around the wine bottle. I stood rooted to the spot. That man's face was identical to my deaf and mute boyfriend's. Daphne rose from her seat and hurried toward him in delight. She took the bag from Elias and could not stop admiring it. "Why did you buy me another bag? You just bought me one a few days ago." Elias's voice was warm. "Didn't you say you loved the entire collection? If you love them, I'll buy them all for you." Daphne beamed and leaned into him, her voice sweet and coy. I stood there stiffly, my eyes locked on Elias's face. It was my boyfriend's face. I would never mistake it. But I had never imagined that he could speak, that he could hear, and that he had never been deaf or mute at all. Daphne noticed I had not moved for a while. She tilted her head and looked at me. "Maisie? What's wrong? You still haven't finished shelling my lobster." I drew a shaky breath. My voice trembled. "I'll take care of it right away. I skipped lunch, so my blood sugar's a little low. Just give me a moment." Only then did Elias look at me. For one split second, shock flashed through his eyes. The next moment, his expression went calm again. He even frowned. "What kind of establishment hires staff like this?" he said coldly. "I'll speak to the manager and have her fired." Daphne giggled. "Oh, sweetheart, don't be so hard on her. She has a deaf and mute boyfriend to support, you know. She's pitiful enough as it is." The bottle slipped from my hand and shattered against the floor. Red wine splashed everywhere. Elias fell silent. After a moment, he said to Daphne, "Wait outside for me. I need to speak to the manager." Daphne pouted. "What for? I haven't finished eating." "Be good," Elias said, his voice gentle again. "Go wait outside. I'll have my assistant pick up dessert from that place you like." Only then did Daphne reluctantly turn to leave. "Fine. Don't take too long." The click of her heels faded down the hallway. The door to the private room closed. Elias stood in front of me, his voice low. "Maisie." He stared at me. "What are you doing here?" I looked him over carefully. He wore a perfectly tailored suit. A Valmont & Pierce watch sat on his wrist. He looked nothing like the man I had carried in my heart, the man who wore the twenty-dollar shirt I had bought online. His voice was cold as ice. "You told me you worked at an investment bank." He looked around the room, then turned his gaze back to me. "So every day, when you came home, you were coming back from a place like this?" He took a step back, as if I really had something contagious. I opened my mouth, but the explanation stuck in my throat. He was right. I had lied to him. But why had I lied? Because Elias had told me he was deaf and could not speak. His hearing aids would cost thirty thousand dollars, and the follow-up treatment would cost another three hundred thousand. Every month, that number hung over me like a blade. And every time he saw the calluses on my hands, he would look at me with guilt in his eyes and sign, "Maisie, I'll work hard. I won't let you suffer like this forever." I did not want him to know I was clearing plates for a living. I did not want him to feel like he was dragging me down. But now, everything felt unbearably absurd. For two years, I had worked eighteen jobs. I had handed out flyers, washed dishes, delivered takeout, and scrubbed floors. In the end, I had become a server in this restaurant's private dining room. My fingers had grown thick with calluses. I had lumbar strain, cervical spondylosis, and recurring gastroenteritis. I had been hospitalized more times than I could count. And he could turn around and spend twenty million dollars on jewelry for another woman as if it were pocket change. Elias's phone rang. He answered it. Daphne's voice came through the line. "Darling, are you done yet? The dessert just arrived, and it's going to melt if you don't come soon." Elias soothed her with a few gentle words before hanging up. Then he looked at me and warned, "Don't tell anyone what happened today." After that, he left. The door closed behind him. I stood alone in the empty private room and stared at the pool of red wine spreading across the floor. A long time passed before my phone buzzed. It was a message from the manager. Manager: [Maisie, you're fired. A guest filed a complaint about your service, and your wages have been withheld as compensation.] Manager: [Don't blame me. The guest who complained is the heir of one of the city's most powerful families. I can't afford to offend him. Pack your things and leave. Now.] I stared at the screen. Not a single word came out. Outside the window, Daphne had her arm looped intimately through Elias's. The two of them walked toward a black Asterion. Daphne said something to him. Elias lowered his head and kissed her on the lips. That kiss was exactly the same as every kiss he had ever given me.