My Wife Chose a Rich Guy, Thinking I’m Poor

As I spoke, I took the lead and walked into the private room. But before I could fully step inside, Courtney suddenly shoved me from behind. When I turned around, she was glaring at me, her expression ice cold.

“Jordan, what did you mean by that just now?” she demanded.

Before I could answer, Bradley chimed in with a mocking grin. “Come on, Jordan, we’ve all been friends since childhood. You’re not seriously jealous, are you?”

One of Courtney’s friends laughed lightly, adding, “It’s not really his fault. He wasn’t raised in a big, influential family like us. He just doesn’t understand how we interact.”

Another voice echoed, laced with condescension, “It’s the class gap. Can’t blame him.”

They spoke with polite smiles, but every word dripped with superiority, treating me like an outsider—a lesser man unworthy of their world.

I didn’t bother responding to them. Instead, I turned to Courtney and, with a quiet calm, said, “It didn’t mean anything. Like you said, this is how your circle gets along. I don’t understand it, but I respect it.”

Courtney’s brows furrowed in frustration. “Jordan, we’re adults now. Can you stop causing trouble?”

I sighed, feeling a helplessness wash over me. “Alright, I won’t cause trouble anymore. I was wrong,” I replied, my voice soft with resignation.

It wasn’t that I was being a coward; it’s just that Courtney, in this state, couldn’t be reasoned with. She hadn’t always been like this. But ever since Bradley returned, she had become increasingly unreasonable, as if the person I once knew had slowly faded away.

Courtney’s expression softened slightly, as if she were doing me a favor. “Jordan, if I hadn’t brought you here, you’d probably never set foot in the The Light Vegas Club in your entire life.”

I sat down on the plush sofa, pretending to be genuinely curious. “Is it that expensive? I’ve made a bit of money over the years.”

Bradley, casually resting his hand on Courtney’s shoulder, looked at me with mock amusement. “Oh, it’s expensive, sure. But that’s not the point. You can’t just buy your way into the The Light Vegas Club. You need status—real status, like us.”

I nodded, keeping my expression neutral. “I’ve learned a lot today.”

Courtney’s eyes suddenly sharpened with realization, as if a question had just occurred to her. “Wait, how did you even get in here?”

Before I could respond, Bradley smirked and answered for me. “Do we really need to ask? He followed you in, of course. Probably dropped your name at the door to get past security.”

“Jordan is a role model in the world of gigolos, isn’t he?” someone quipped with a smirk.

Another chimed in, “Exactly. Most men who live off their women might get a bit of money, but Courtney? She’s given him status! It’s like a poor scholar catching the eye of a princess back in the day.”

“Oh, so Jordan’s a prince consort now?” The group burst into laughter, their mockery as cutting as it was casual.

Courtney glanced down at me, her tone dripping with condescension. “I’ve told you before, my world isn’t one you can fit into. If you keep following me, you’ll only get hurt.”

“You’re right,” I replied, smiling faintly.

In the past, a comment like that would have infuriated me, pushed me to prove myself. I would’ve fought to show Courtney and her circle that I could belong. But I had learned that no matter how much I tried, all I got in return was deeper ridicule, further disdain. These people carried a strange, almost delusional sense of superiority, as if they truly believed themselves to be royalty.

Courtney hadn’t always been this way. When we were still students, she had none of these airs. She was warm, grounded, without the arrogance that now seemed to seep into every word, every glance. But things had changed. She had changed.

And now? Now, I didn’t feel the urge to prove myself anymore. Not to her. Not to anyone in that room. Because as Courtney stood there, mocking me and allowing Bradley to flaunt their closeness in front of me, I realized something. I was tired.

Not just physically, but mentally—drained in a way that made everything feel distant, unreal. I still loved Courtney, that much I knew, but I didn’t want to love her anymore. It was as if I had been playing a game I used to enjoy, but exhaustion had finally set in. I was too worn out to care about winning or losing. I just wanted to put down the controller and walk away.

And that’s exactly how I felt now.