My Boyfriend Pretended to Be Poor and Disabled

To save me from a fire, my boyfriend, Tristan, suffered severe burns and went blind. Guilt consumed me. I sold my parents' house, worked multiple jobs, and saved every penny for his treatments, even enduring broken bones without medical care. Five years later, while delivering food, I saw him, unscarred, sight restored, proposing to another woman, Lila. I overheard his friend say that to buy his expensive medication, I'd been starving myself. Tristan coldly explained that my suffering was revenge: because I reported Lila's drunk‑driving brother (who killed my parents), he wanted me to despair. He planned to later "recover" and return to me, claiming I'd have no choice but to obey. Holding my terminal cancer diagnosis, I smiled through tears. In a month, I’d be with my parents again. 01 The heavy delivery box dug into my shoulders. It was a familiar pain, one I had endured countless times. But now, it felt as if five years of numbness had been stripped away, and every sensation came rushing back, sharp and agonizing. Every pore in my skin felt like it was being pricked by a needle. The laughter from the private room seeped through the door. “I was at the night market last month and saw Aubrey selling socks from a little stall. A few local thugs were shaking her down for protection money.” “Those creeps were putting their hands all over her, and she just had to bow and scrape. It was pathetic…” Tristan’s friend sighed dramatically. “She used to be the star of the music department. You wouldn’t recognize that proud, aloof girl now.” I gripped the strap of my delivery box, my knuckles turning white. Tristan’s voice was suddenly tense. “Did you help her?” “Are you kidding? Last time I bought a bowl of noodles from her stall, you chewed me out for a month, said I was going to ruin your grand plan. This time, I just watched from a distance… You should have seen it. After those guys left, she knelt on the ground to pick up the scattered socks, and she just started crying. But after she cried, she went right back to selling. Like one of those resilient little weeds that just won’t die.” I remembered that day. The humiliation. The hospital had sent another bill, but I’d just spent everything I had on Tristan’s imported "miracle drug." I was still three hundred dollars short. For that three hundred dollars, I had swallowed my pride and endured the thugs’ taunts, just hoping I could earn enough so Tristan wouldn’t be kicked out of his premium private room. “Good,” Tristan’s voice relaxed, laced with satisfaction. “If we don’t grind that pride out of her, how will Lila ever let go of her anger? And how will Aubrey ever learn to be humble?” Lila’s soft voice chimed in. “Tristan, honey, maybe… that’s enough? It’s been five years. I’m sure she’s learned her lesson.” “How can it be enough?” Tristan’s tone hardened. “Lila, I know you’re the kindest, most soft-hearted person, but she’s the one who insisted on calling the police, the one who sent your brother to prison. You cried for a whole month. I promised you, for every day your brother suffers in there, she’ll suffer out here. He’s not out yet, so her suffering isn’t over.” “But what if she finds out?” Lila whispered. “So what if she does? She has nothing left. Where can she go except back to me? Besides, Aubrey is too headstrong. If I don’t teach her to bow her head, she’ll just keep getting hurt. One day, she’ll understand I did this for her own good…” My fists clenched, and the chilblains on the back of my hand split open, welling with blood. Tristan, is this your professional code of ethics as a lawyer? He had probably long forgotten that my deceased parents were the benefactors who had funded his education for ten years. I turned, about to ask a waiter to deliver the food for me, when my phone buzzed. [You have 3 orders nearing their delivery deadline. Please complete them as soon as possible.] I fumbled to lower the volume, but the door to the private room swung open. “Is that my delivery?” Lila poked her head out. She froze for a second when she saw me. I kept my head down and held out the bag. “Your order. Please check it.” Lila let out a small, delicate laugh. She reached for the bag, but the moment her fingers touched it, she gasped. “Oh my! Why can’t you hold it steady…” The bag dropped from her grasp. The exquisite pastries inside shattered, splattering cream all over the floor. “Lila, are you okay?” Tristan’s concerned voice grew closer. I quickly pulled a mask over my face and tugged my helmet down low. Tristan wrapped his arm around Lila, pulling her into his embrace. The warm, yellow light of the hallway illuminated his expensive cashmere sweater. His skin was smooth and clear, without a single scar. His bright eyes swept over me, and then away. I stood there, head bowed, not knowing what to do. I turned to leave. But he grabbed my arm. 02 “You damage a customer’s order and think you can just run off? Apologize!” A wave of relief washed over me, immediately followed by a bitter pang. For a moment, I thought he had recognized me. The customer is always right. I bowed again and again, murmuring apologies. I bent down to pick up the ruined desserts. Tristan clicked his tongue. “Lila’s been abroad for five years. This is the one dessert she’s been craving. Now look at it. How is she supposed to eat this?” Lila tugged at his sleeve, her voice soft and sweet. “It’s okay, Tristan… I’m sure she didn’t mean to. It’s just a shame… And my new shoes you just bought me, they’re limited edition, and they got cream on them…” I looked down. A small smudge of cream stained her high-heeled shoe. “According to consumer protection laws, a delivery person who damages a customer’s property is liable for three times the value,” Tristan said coldly. I straightened up, looking at him through the visor of my helmet. For five years, I had visited him in the hospital every single day. I cleaned him, fed him, read him the news. He was “blind,” so he would always trace my face with his hands, from my brow to my jaw, and say with a pained voice, “Aubrey, you’ve gotten so thin.” Now he stood before me, his eyes perfectly fine, and he didn’t recognize me at all. “How much? I’ll pay.” “The shoes were thirty-two hundred… can you even afford that?” Lila whispered. Thirty-two hundred dollars. That was months of my blood and sweat. “And that doesn’t cover Lila’s emotional distress,” another man added, stepping out of the room. “Look, you obviously don’t have the money, and we’re not unreasonable. Just get on your knees, wipe the cream off Lila’s shoe, and we’ll call it even.” His eyes were filled with cruel amusement, as if I weren’t a person, but a dog to be toyed with. I looked at Tristan. He was gently comforting Lila, saying nothing to his friend’s suggestion. My phone buzzed with another deadline warning. If I stayed here any longer, I would lose my entire commission for the day. I closed my eyes, clenched my fists, and knelt. A low chuckle rippled through the room. Head bowed, I used my sleeve to wipe the cream from Lila’s shoe. Suddenly, she flinched back, pressing herself into Tristan’s arms. “Tristan…” she whimpered, her voice thick with tears. “It makes me think of my brother… I wonder how he’s doing in there, if his hands are getting ugly chilblains like this delivery person’s…” Tristan kicked me. It was so sudden I fell backward, and the leg I had broken slammed against the doorframe. A blinding pain shot up from the bone, but I bit my lip, refusing to cry out. “Get out,” Tristan said with disgust. “Don’t stand here upsetting Lila.” From the safety of his arms, Lila looked at me. Her eyes were gleaming with triumph. I pushed myself up from the floor, grabbed my delivery box, and stumbled out of the club. Behind me, his voice was as gentle as if he were a different person. “Don’t cry, Lila. I’m already working on the appeal. We’ll get your brother out of there soon…” The cold hallway wind seeped into my collar. I was frozen to the bone. I finished the rest of my deliveries in a numb daze and returned to the basement room I rented. The smell of mildew hit me as I opened the door. The ten-square-meter space contained a single bed and a wardrobe propped up on bricks. A thick layer of frost covered the windowpane, and the moonlight that filtered through was pale and ghostly. For all these years, I believed I was the one responsible for Tristan’s injuries. To ensure he got the best treatment, the most comfortable private room, I had scrimped and saved, living a life worse than a beggar in a slum. I held up my hands, swollen and red like raw carrots, and pulled a photograph from under my pillow. In the picture, I had just won the gold medal at a piano competition. My parents stood beside me, their faces beaming with pride. Tears dripped onto the photo. Mom, Dad, your daughter was a fool. It took me so long to see the truth. When we’re reunited, you’ll scold me for being so stupid, won’t you? A sharp pain twisted in my stomach. I reached for my painkillers out of habit, but my phone rang. “Aubrey, are you done with work? Why didn’t you come see me today? I missed you.” Tristan’s gentle voice was once my only salvation. Now, it felt like a thorny vine, wrapping around me, suffocating me. I limped into his hospital room. Tristan was once again the helpless patient, his eyes unfocused, his skin a mess of prosthetic scars. He was leaning against the headboard, his head turned toward the door. “Aubrey? Is that you?” Then his expression changed, his voice filled with alarm. “What happened to your leg? Who hurt you?” I stood in the doorway and just looked at him. For a long, long time. Then I walked in and sat by his bed, just like always. “Tristan, you can’t see. How did you know I hurt my leg?” 03 The alarm on his face froze for a fraction of a second. Then, he naturally reached out, his hand fumbling in the air. “I heard your footsteps. They were uneven… one heavy, one light. Aubrey, you always walk so quietly, like a little cat.” He turned his head, his expression full of pain. “Did you injure your leg?” I lowered my eyes. “It’s nothing. I just took a bad fall.” “How could you be so careless?” He grabbed my hand, his thumb stroking the chilblains on my skin, his voice thick with self-reproach. “Aubrey, this is all my fault… If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have to work so hard. I’m just a burden to you…” I had heard those words for five years. Every time, I would fall into his arms and cry, telling him, “You lost your sight for me. It’s my duty to take care of you for the rest of my life.” Now, I just felt like a clown. I pulled my hand from his and handed him the glass of water from the nightstand. “While I was out delivering today, I heard a story.” “It was about a man who pretended to be paralyzed for five years, just to test if his girlfriend truly loved him. The girl sold everything she had to pay for his treatment. When she finally found out the truth, she jumped from the hospital roof.” Tristan’s hand paused. The water glass hovered in mid-air. After a long moment, he placed it back on the nightstand. “Why… why are you suddenly talking about that?” “I just wanted to ask you.” I leaned closer to his scarred face. “You’re not pretending, are you?” His entire body went rigid. The eyes that had played the part of a blind man for so long trembled for a split second. His lips moved, but no words came out. Before he could speak, I laughed. “If you were, that would be wonderful. I would rather you be healthy.” Seeing the complex emotion flash across his face, the pain in my stomach flared again. A metallic taste rose in my throat. I rushed to the bathroom. The moment the door closed, I braced myself against the sink and vomited a mouthful of blood. The red mixed with stomach acid, burning my throat. I turned on the faucet, washed away the evidence, and splashed cold water on my face. The person in the mirror was skeletal, with sharp cheekbones and sunken eyes. A breathing corpse. I could hear him on the phone, his voice low. “Are you sure? He’s being released on the 28th of next month?” “Good, that’s great! Lila will finally get to see her brother… Okay, I understand. I’ll be there to pick him up myself.” He hung up. I pushed the door open and walked out. He looked up, his face glowing with excitement. “Aubrey, the doctor just called!” “He said there’s a new technology from overseas. They can do the skin grafts and the eye surgery at the same time. The surgery is scheduled for the 28th of next month!” He was trembling with excitement, reaching a hand out towards me. “Aubrey, I’m going to get better! I’ll be able to see you soon!” I took his hand, watching the realistic ecstasy on his face. “That’s wonderful… that’s just wonderful…” he repeated, over and over. I looked down at him, my eyes stinging. One month. Lila’s brother gets out of prison, and he gets “cured.” Five years. He really was a man who kept his promises. My punishment would not be one day longer, or one day shorter. It was just a shame I wouldn't be there to see it. Tristan’s hand fumbled by the bed and picked up a piece of paper. My body went completely still. It was my Do Not Resuscitate form. 04 But Tristan didn’t even glance down. He maintained his blind persona, his gaze fixed on a point in the distance. “What’s this?” he asked softly. I looked at his charade of a face and gave a bitter, internal smile. “It’s your latest bill.” He pulled me into his arms. “Aubrey, when I get better, the first thing I’m going to do is buy back the piano you sold.” He stroked my hair, his voice a gentle murmur. “And we’ll have a wedding. You’ll look so beautiful in a wedding dress.” I managed a stiff smile in his embrace. Tristan, the future you’re promising… is one I can never reach. There is no future for us. I left the hospital and went back to my basement room. I pulled out a dusty cardboard box. Inside were the notebooks Tristan had made for me when he was my father’s student and tutored me. There were photos we had taken together, one for every day of our early relationship. And the nine hundred and ninety-nine handwritten letters he had sent me. I sat with the box in my lap for a long time. Finally, I struck a match. The flame licked at the edges of a photograph. His smiling face curled in the heat, then turned to ash. I opened my banking app and looked at my remaining balance. It was just enough to buy a small plot for myself, next to my parents. Just as I was about to close the app, my phone rang. “Ms. Aubrey? This is the Phoenix Crest Cemetery management office. Would you be able to come by? There’s an urgent matter.” My heart clenched. I grabbed my jacket and ran out the door. When I got to the cemetery, I could see a group of people gathered around my parents’ grave. Several workers with shovels were pointing at the headstone. “What are you doing?!” I screamed, sprinting towards them and throwing myself in front of the grave. “This is my parents’ grave! What do you think you’re doing?!” Lila stepped out from the crowd. “Aubrey, perfect timing,” she said with a gentle smile. “My little Sheldon passed away, and a mystic told me this plot has the best energy to ensure he has a good reincarnation. So, I bought it.” She paused, her smile widening. “Oh, by the way, Sheldon was my pet turtle.” “You’re lying!” I trembled with rage. “I never sold my parents’ grave!” Lila calmly pulled a document from her purse and unfolded it in front of me. “Look closely. A transfer agreement. In black and white.” My eyes fell on the signature at the bottom, and I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. Tristan. I knew his signature like the back of my own hand. For five years, I had signed countless bills, medical disclosures, and surgical consent forms for him. He claimed he couldn't see, so I signed on his behalf. But for the documents that required his personal signature, I would guide his hand, tracing each letter. This signature… he wrote it himself. I remembered. The year my parents died, I was only twenty, and I knew nothing. It was Tristan who handled everything—the funeral, the cemetery plot, all the paperwork. I was so grateful then, I thought he was the best person in the world. It turned out, he had been “arranging” everything for me from the very beginning. I lunged for the paper. Lila stepped back, and several men immediately grabbed me, pinning me to the ground. They shoved my face into the dirt, the cold, earthy smell filling my nose and mouth. Lila took out her phone, dialed a number, and put it on speaker. “Tristan, honey…” “I want to bury Sheldon’s ashes at Phoenix Crest, but she’s blocking the way. What should I do?” Tristan’s voice came through, clear and crisp. “Lila, you’re just too kind. That’s why people take advantage of you. You need to be firm when it counts, or every stray cat and dog will think they can stand in your way.” Lila cooed a sweet reply. She turned on the video camera and pointed it at me. “How about this. You apologize, say you were wrong, and I’ll have them stop. What do you say?” My face was buried in the dirt, my eyes burning. “I… was wrong.” “Louder, I can’t hear you.” “I WAS WRONG!” I screamed with every ounce of strength I had left. Lila smiled with satisfaction and waved the phone. “See, Tristan? She apologized. Did I do a good job?” “Perfectly,” Tristan’s voice was laced with amusement. Lila put her phone away and sauntered off with her entourage. I lay on the ground, staring at the grave, which was now a chaotic mess of overturned earth. Tears mixed with the dirt on my face. After a long time, I climbed to my feet. With my bare hands, I began to push the soil back into place, handful by handful. From this day forward, this grave would not only hold my parents. It would also hold my heart, which had been tossed aside like trash. The day of Tristan’s “surgery” arrived. “Aubrey, when I come back from this surgery, I’ll be able to see you. Once I’ve recovered, I promise I’ll make up for these five years.” He got into the car that was taking him to the “airport,” and it drove away. He wasn’t just taking my lying lover with him. He was taking the last flicker of life from my body. The pain in my stomach was getting worse, a twisting, churning agony. I leaned against the wall and slid to the floor. I took out my phone and recorded a video of myself. “Tristan, in the next life… don’t let me ever meet you again.” I hit send. The phone slipped from my grasp. My vision blurred. In my last moments of consciousness, I thought I saw someone standing in a bright light, reaching out a hand to me. Mom, Dad, are you here to take me home?