The Proposal I Didn't Get, and the Wealth He Never Saw Coming

When I first met Darryl, I hadn’t told him about my family’s financial situation. He had never asked, either, apart from one offhand comment.

It was the time I brought some crab-filled buns my dad had made to school. Darryl loved them and while eating one, he joked, “These are really good. Your parents don’t happen to run a food stall selling these, do they?”

I had laughed and said yes, playing along with the joke. He didn’t ask me anything further about my family after that.

Looking back now, I realized he probably believed it. He must have assumed my parents were just small-time street vendors. Maybe that’s why he never saw a future with me, even back then.

His actions had always reflected that assumption. Whenever I tried to help him financially or surprise him with gifts, he’d tell me not to waste money and to be considerate of how hard my parents must have worked. When I decided to pursue my dream of becoming an illustrator, he hesitated but eventually said I should follow my heart and that he’d handle the rest—even though his salary wasn’t much to begin with. But the truth was, his salary was only about 2000 dollar a month. 

When my parents heard this they were speechless. But they were relieved I hadn’t married him yet, grateful I had stopped before it went too far.

One night before bed, I called my best friend, who was on a business trip in another city. We needed to discuss the issue of moving out.

The apartment Darryl was living in was actually mine.

Because Darryl had a few thousand yuan in student loans, he had to work part-time as a delivery driver while interning during the day. He was living in a cramped room, barely big enough for a bed, in a run-down rental. I felt so sorry for him that I used my pocket money, which my parents had given me, to buy a two-bedroom apartment near his workplace.

I arranged for a classmate to tell Darryl that her cousin had gone abroad and left behind a property she wanted to rent out. She wasn’t trying to make money; she just wanted someone to manage the place, so she offered it to him for just a thousand yuan a month. Darryl agreed to rent it and I moved in with him.

Now, we had been living together for almost a year. Looking back, I was grateful that we always slept in separate rooms and nothing romantic ever happened between us.

My best friend, after hearing about everything, was furious. She promised me that once she finished her work, she’d come back immediately and we’d deal with that scumbag together.

During the few days while I waited for her, I spent my time eating all sorts of delicious food. When I was with Darryl, I never accepted my parents' money and lived off my own salary, trying to make ends meet. Everything from my meals to my clothes had been the simplest, most ordinary stuff. I even started learning how to cook, something I had never done before. It made me reflect a lot and I was amazed at how far I was willing to go for him.

I really did give him my heart, but in the end, it was all for nothing.

During this time, I also took on a commission to create a drawing. It was from a mother who adored her daughter. She wanted to preserve a beautiful dream her daughter had shared with her, hoping someone could capture it in art for her to cherish forever.

My major in college had been in management, not art. Drawing was just a hobby, but when I discovered the profession of dream illustration, I was fascinated and thought it sounded beautiful. My parents had always supported me, no matter how little money I might make. They just wanted me to be happy.

Darryl had once told me the same thing. He said it was a great career, one that would allow me to spend more time with our future kids without missing out on their upbringing.

But now I realized he had never respected my work. While stringing me along and treating me like a backup plan, he had been looking for someone who could replace me.

My best friend returned on the weekend. She came straight to my place from the airport. After we had dinner together, we hired some movers and went to find Darryl.

Darryl hadn’t changed the password, so we easily got into the apartment. But when we looked around, he wasn’t there.

When I opened the door to my room, I pushed it open and saw a bald man lying on my bed, lazily scrolling through his phone. He was shirtless, his rough, dark skin on full display and his legs were crossed in a way that made me want to scream. The sounds of heavy breathing came from his phone and I realized he was watching some inappropriate video.

Fury surged through me. I stormed in and demanded, “Who are you? Who let you into my room?”