I Knew He Was A Billionaire, I Let Him Pretend To Be Poor Chapter 03

I Knew He Was A Billionaire, I Let Him Pretend To Be Poor Chapter 03

The chicken rice bowl wasn’t the only thing Nolan brought home.

He’d also picked up a new blanket and pillow.

Mostly for himself, I was pretty sure.

Right before bed, he casually dropped it into the conversation like it was nothing.

“Hey, Mara. Tomorrow’s my birthday.”

“The other day, I delivered this gourmet cake. It cost ninety bucks, and it was THIS big.”

“What do you think something like that even tastes like?”

I knew exactly what he was doing.

He was a rich kid slumming it with a poor girl. What was funnier than watching her spend her grocery money on him?

I thought about it. “Happy birthday. I’ll make you some pancakes in the morning.”

“What kind of cake do you like? I’ll grab one on my way home.”

Nolan waved me off, right on cue. “No, no. Don’t worry about it. I was just talking.”

I smiled, went to the bedroom, and redid my budget for next month.

After my shift the next day, I stopped at a bakery.

Seven-dollar mini cake.

When I got home with it, Nolan was gone.

My eyes started to blur, the bright little cake going soft at the edges.

If he came back, I’d have someone to share it with.

If he didn’t, I’d eat a beautiful cake alone.

Either way, today was a good day.

I fell asleep against the couch without meaning to.

I don’t know how long I was out before someone shook me awake.

He was back.

I couldn’t tell if I was disappointed or relieved.

“Mara, sorry I’m so late. Got slammed with deliveries.”

I ignored the alcohol on his breath and smiled.

“It’s fine. I got you a cake.”

I held it out to him.

He just stared at it.

“You actually bought one?”

I should’ve said something easy. Something polite.

Something like, “It’s no big deal, it wasn’t that much.”

But that wasn’t the game he was playing. I wasn’t playing it either.

“I’m sorry. I really can’t afford a ninety-dollar cake. This was the most I could do.”

“I hope that’s okay. Happy birthday.”

Nolan couldn’t look at me.

“I… yeah. Thanks.”

He opened the box, handed me a fork, and told me to help him finish it.

I took the smallest bite I could.

Nolan watched me.

“Why are you eating it like that? Worried about calories?”

I let the sweetness dissolve on my tongue before I answered. “No. I just want to taste it. Really taste it.”

It was so light it barely felt real. And for a second, neither did the rest of my life.

I smiled at him.

“This is my first time eating a real bakery cake. I never would’ve bought one for myself.”

“Thank you.”

Nolan said nothing.

He slid the box toward me.

“Then finish it. I don’t even like sweet stuff. Seriously.”

I almost laughed.

For a second, we really did look like two broke kids who gave a damn about each other.

I had a few more bites, then put the rest in the fridge.

But sometime in the middle of the night, his voice woke me.

He must’ve assumed I was dead asleep.

He didn’t realize how thin these walls were.

He was trying to keep his voice down, but I heard every word.

“Cut the crap. I won. Pick any car in your garage. It’s mine. A bet’s a bet.”

“I sent you the pictures, didn’t I? She actually bought it!”

“Okay, enough. Don’t push it. She’s actually really sweet…”

I lay there watching the streetlight leak through the curtains.

Was the cake not enough?

That was where I drew the line.

If the next lie was a sick relative who needed money, or a delivery accident that needed cash, he was gone.