My Boyfriend Spent Pennies to See if I was Worth Dimes

I held the box out dumbly up in the air.

Caitline breezed past Robin, snatching it from my hands, and she tugged at him impatiently.

“Rob, come on! Let’s go already—I still wanna shop around more!”

As I watched their figures blend into the crowd, my chest tightened.

‘So this is what betrayal feels like?’

He told me he was drowning in debt, that he couldn’t afford anything better than those tattered clothes. My heart ached for him, so I went out of my way to buy him a few decent clothes.

But he never wore them.

When I asked why, he said he was scared of getting them dirty and that he wanted to treasure every single thing I gave him.

God, I felt even worse for him after that. I worked harder and stayed out longer selling stuff just to scrape together some money for him.

And yet, it was all one-sided.

Looking back, I bet Robin laughed at me every time he saw me—this naive, pathetic fool. Apparently, my sincerity was nothing more than entertainment for a spoiled rich boy.

I shut my eyes, and I couldn’t keep running the stall anymore.

The cold bit into me as I bundled myself tighter in my oversized coat, dragging my stall through the freezing streets. My energy was drained, and I just wanted to go home.

But just as I left, Robin came back.

Third Person’s POV

He stood there, puzzled, scanning the now-empty stall. It seemed as if the faintly familiar voice from earlier had been a figment of his imagination.

“Rob, I told you—you’re hearing things. There’s no way that was Calliope. And even if it was, so what? She’d probably just cling to you even harder if she knew.”

Robin hesitated, his gaze sweeping the street one last time, searching for someone who wasn’t there.

With a small sigh, he finally looked away, pushing down the unease tugging at him. He hoped it really was just his imagination.

Calliope’s POV

I lay on my bed staring blankly at the ceiling, my mind tangled in a mess of thoughts.

The sound of a key turning in the lock snapped me out of it.

Robin walked in, carrying a familiar, fancy packaging box. With excitement, he said, “Callie, look! I got you something nice!”

But I didn’t say a word.

Robin was, as always, effortlessly handsome—sharp features, flirtatious almond eyes, and that damn small mole under his eye that made him look unfairly alluring. And when he looked at me, his gaze was full of affection.

At over six feet tall, broad-shouldered and long-legged, even in cheap street clothes, he looked like he stepped out of a fashion magazine.

I’d asked him once why he didn’t just model to make money. He’d just dodged the question.

Now, I understand. He was terrified his real identity—a privileged rich kid—might slip out. And I’d latch onto him for good.

He walked over and pulled me into a hug, resting his head against my neck. His soft lips brushed my skin as he whispered, “Why aren’t you talking to me?”

I pulled away from his embrace, and with exhaustion, I replied, “I’m just… a bit tired.”

I didn’t have the energy to keep up with whatever game we were playing. I wanted answers, but before I could ask him, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

He glanced at the message, his expression flickering slightly, looking a bit off.

When he noticed I was staring at him, he quickly shoved the phone back into his pocket and explained, “It’s my boss. He’s asking me to work overtime—short on staff again.”

I didn’t know whether to believe it or not, but Robin just went ahead and pulled out a scarf from the bag and carefully wrapped it around my neck.

He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, his voice low and intimate as he said, “Callie, I hope I stay with you every holiday.”

I looked up at him, at the mole beneath his eye catching the light.

I used to love his eyes the most, the way they made me feel like I was his number one, the only one who mattered to him.

But now, I couldn’t figure him out anymore.

“Robin, you…”