My Boyfriend Played Broke to Fool Me, So I Vanished Chapter 03

My Boyfriend Played Broke to Fool Me, So I Vanished Chapter 03

I pretended not to know him. But the owner pointed me straight to his table to take his order.

I steeled myself and walked over.

Evan tapped the table. “It’s too dirty.”

I grabbed a rag and wiped it down.

Once. He wasn’t satisfied.

A second time. He still wasn’t satisfied.

I kept apologizing. I pulled out a slightly newer rag from my pocket and scrubbed harder.

Evan’s eyes locked onto that rag.

He grabbed my wrist. He pulled it out of my hands.

It was covered in grease. But you could still see the pattern along the edges. It had never been meant as a rag.

Evan realized what it was. His face went through something—shock, then anger, then a bitter, disbelieving laugh.

“This is the gift I bought you after painting for three days.”

Oh. Now that he mentioned it, I remembered.

Back when he was pretending to be poor, he’d sometimes set up a street stall.

One time, some rich middle-aged guy actually took a liking to his work and hired him to paint his daughter’s portrait.

Evan went for three days.

Made a thousand dollars.

He spent it all at the mall that same day. He bought me a silk scarf.

I was heartbroken over the money. I wanted to return it.

Thinking back now, I was so stupid. The way he threw money around back then—how could he have been a poor kid?

He’d stopped me. Said the gift was just to show how much he valued me. Promised he wouldn’t spend recklessly again.

I believed him.

I couldn’t bear to wear it out. I only dared to keep it safely tucked in the inner layer of my closet.

He’d even complained. “What’s the point of buying it if you never use it?”

What I never told him was—because this was the first gift he’d ever given me, I would rather treasure it than wear it old.

Something I’d once cherished that much.

Now I was using it as a rag.

When I got out of prison, I saw this scarf in my bag. I didn’t think twice about it. I just grabbed it and used it.

Now that he’d reminded me, I remembered everything.

I looked up, blank-faced. “Now it’s a rag.”

I reached for it. He held it higher, furious.

“Nora, do you even have a heart?”

“You used to not even bear to wear it out. Now you’re using it as a rag? Are you so determined to spite me you’d do anything?”

I frowned.

He was talking so strangely.

As if we were still that broke couple living in the basement.

The truth was, this scarf wasn’t even good as a rag—it only worked on water stains.

I threw his own words back at him. “What’s the point of buying it if you never use it?”

His eyes went red. Something almost like inexplicable hurt flickered in his gaze.

“Is this some cheap knockoff you bought? You wouldn’t treat a gift from me like this—would you?”

Before I could answer, a second luxury car that didn’t belong in this neighborhood pulled up at the alley entrance.

A girl in a designer dress came jogging toward us.

Evan’s expression froze for a moment. His hand dropped. The scarf he’d been clutching so tightly was tossed carelessly onto the table.

“Evan, what are you doing here?”

Her eyes slid over me. Just a glance. But I saw it—recognition. And hostility.

Evan’s voice softened. “Why are you here?”

“I went to the office and found you weren’t there. So I checked your car’s GPS and found you.”

Evan frowned almost imperceptibly.

“I just came to grab some barbecue. I’ll be back soon.”

“Just barbecue?”

She looped her arm through his. Her expression was strange in a way that was hard to describe.

She looked at me. “But isn’t she that crazy girl who stabbed you in the arm?”