My boyfriend, Mason, was crippled and deep in debt after a brutal attack. In just one month, he tried to end it all four times: slashing his wrists, jumping from a building, carbon monoxide poisoning, and even mixing prescription pills with liquor. Every single time, I found him just in time to stop him! To make him abandon his suicidal thoughts, I worked multiple jobs and even pawned my mother’s heirloom jade bracelet to pay off his debts. To get him back on his feet, I decided to be a living donor, offering my own spinal cord stem cells. Just as I was thrilled about his improving health, I accidentally discovered that his legs were never paralyzed, and he wasn’t in debt at all. Turns out, he was actually Mason Blackwood, the heir to the colossal Blackwood Conglomerate. His poverty, his paralysis, our entire relationship… it was all a sick, drunken bet among his trust fund friends: A “pauper’s love test”! Ha! Well, I’d give *him* a test. But then, why did *he* suddenly crack?
I pushed open the door and saw Mason, a bottle of liquor in one hand, a handful of pills in the other, lifting them to his mouth. My heart seized. I practically flew across the room, swatting the deadly combo from his grasp. “What are you doing?!” I cried out, my voice trembling with a raw, panicked sob. Mason’s voice was dead, his smile a tragic grimace. “What am I doing? Isn’t it obvious? I’m dying…” His eyes pleaded with me, filled with tears. “Please, Riley, have a heart, just leave me alone! Let me die!” “I’m ruined. There’s no point in living.” I buried my face in his chest, shaking my head frantically. This was his fourth suicide attempt this month. The last time, he tried carbon monoxide poisoning. Before that, he tried to drown himself. And before that, he tried to slash his wrists. Every single time, I found him just in time. I couldn’t bear to imagine what would happen if I were even a moment too late. “Mason, please don’t do this.” I cupped his face, my voice shaking. “We’ll face this together, okay?” Mason shoved me away roughly. “Face what? The debt collectors?” He pounded his fists on his own legs. “Look at these legs! They’re useless, they can’t move! How can I work like this? How can I earn money?” “Don’t you get sick of looking at these useless legs every day? Because I do!” My heart ached as I watched him. Ever since that brutal attack by the debt collectors, he hadn’t been able to stand. Mason aggressively reached for the pills and liquor I’d knocked over. “Better to just end it quickly now, and get it over with! I won’t drag you down!” I threw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his hands. “You’re not dragging me down! You’re all I have in this world! If you leave, what will I do…?” I desperately tried to convince him he was still needed, still useful. “Without you, how can I live?!” Tears blurring my vision, I choked out, “If you can’t work, I can! It’s just money! I’ll pay it back, I’ll pay it back with you! I’ll even get your legs fixed, I’ll get you back on your feet…” “So please, just don’t die!” Mason scoffed, a cold, cynical laugh, calling me naive. “You’ll pay? You’ll even fix my legs? Do you know how much five million in debt, plus medical costs, adds up to? At least six million!” He pointed at me, then at himself. “Look at you, then look at me. You earn next to nothing! Even if we saved every single penny, it would take us over a century to clear five million! Do you honestly think we’d live that long? Do you think those loan sharks would wait that long?” I bit my lip, silent. Mason continued, “You say you’ll pay off my debts now, but what about later? When you’re exhausted, when you crave something decent to eat but can’t afford it, when you have to pinch every single penny… you’ll resent me! You’ll resent why I’m such a cripple! You’ll resent ever trying to save me!” His voice suddenly turned icy. “Wealthy people stab each other in the back for profit. What makes you think *our* love, as commoners, is any different?” “Wake up.” I gripped his hand, my eyes locked on his. “That’s not how it works, Mason. Yes, I’m barely making minimum wage now, but I’ll get promoted. My salary will increase. And I can pick up extra jobs…” “Mason,” I said firmly, “we’ll figure this out together.” Mason turned his head away, refusing to look at me. I stood up, grabbed my bag, and headed for the door. “Where are you going?” Mason asked. “To find work,” I said, without looking back. From that day on, I plunged into a frantic work-life. During the day, I worked at the office. In the evenings, I tutored. On weekends, I delivered food, even squeezing in errands for colleagues to earn extra cash during my work breaks. I was like a wound-up machine, working non-stop. I slept only three hours a day, for a solid month. I calculated my earnings for that grueling month: $36,880. The number was auspicious, but it made my eyes dry and ache. It wasn’t even a fraction of five million.
I collapsed my head onto my desk, softly banging it against the surface, choking out, “Only thirty thousand… just thirty thousand…” It wasn’t even a fraction of five million. If I couldn’t pay off the debt, Mason would try to kill himself again. Mark, a colleague, passed my cubicle and sighed when he saw me. “Riley, you can’t keep going like this,” he said softly. I looked up, my eyes red-rimmed. Mark hesitated, then lowered his voice. “If you’re really desperate for money, I have some freelance design projects. Do you want to take them on?” I shot up from my seat. “Yes!” Mark was startled by my reaction. “I’ll take them under my name. We can negotiate a higher fee, but I’ll take a commission.” “Don’t get the wrong idea, I’m not—” I nodded vigorously. “I understand. Taking them under your name means you’re taking a risk on a newcomer like me. I won’t get the wrong idea. I’m incredibly grateful you’re helping me, Mark. Thank you.” And just like that, I had yet another job. Once again, I went three days without sleep, finally completing five design drafts that satisfied the clients and sending them over. My phone chimed with the notification of the payment hitting my account, and I managed a tired smile. In that year, at my peak, I worked seven jobs simultaneously, sleeping three hours a day. I earned almost five hundred thousand. Finally, it was a respectable fraction of five million. I was about to accept another project when, with a breath, a sharp pain shot through my chest, as if someone was violently twisting my heart. My body broke out in a cold sweat, my ears rang, and my vision swam. “Riley! Are you okay? Riley!” I vaguely heard Mark calling my name, but his voice drifted, now close, now far away. Then everything went black. When I regained consciousness, I saw white walls everywhere and IV lines connected to my arm. I realized I was in a hospital, and no one was beside me. I pressed the call button. A young doctor with glasses and a nurse came in, their faces stern, to examine me. “How do you feel now that you’re awake?” I nodded blankly, a little guilty, and mumbled that I was fine. “Hmph!” Dr. Alex scoffed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’ve been asleep for two days, of course you feel fine!” “Stress-induced coma! Gastritis, myocardial ischemia… You’re practically a walking medical textbook at your age! Impressive dedication to self-destruction!” The nurse was startled by his sharp tongue, discreetly tugging at his shirt to remind him to be gentler, while offering me appeasing smiles to prevent me from complaining. Two days! I quickly latched onto the key point. I hadn’t been home for two days. What about Mason, alone at home?! I panicked, wanting to demand discharge, but facing the doctor’s cold gaze, all my words caught in my throat. My eyes darted away, and I obediently listened to his lecture, burning with impatience. “No matter how important the job, no matter how much money, you need to be alive to do it, to spend it…” He continued to scold me as he checked my symptoms, finally clicking his tongue in dissatisfaction. “Stay for a few days for observation to see if there are any other issues. And you better explain how you managed to run yourself into the ground like this!” I suddenly raised my head, ready to protest, to refuse hospitalization. But under the doctor’s oppressive gaze, I offered a sheepish smile. “Dr. Alex…” “You stay put, young lady! You’re staying here to save your sorry hide!” Dr. Alex shot me a stern look, then warned the nurse that I was prone to ‘pulling stunts.’ I lowered my head, looking miserable and silent. Just thinking about the hospital bills made my chest ache again. Just as I was mentally plotting eight hundred escape plans to avoid Dr. Alex and the hospital, Mark arrived. I excitedly grabbed his hand. “Mark, Mark, please help me with the discharge papers.” Mark refused. He said the doctor had informed him of my terrible condition and advised me to listen to Dr. Alex, to stay for a few days of observation. “Just relax for a few days. I’ll count it as paid leave for you.” I insisted on being discharged. Not only was I worried about Mason being home alone and paralyzed, but I was also incredibly reluctant to spend money on hospital fees when I usually didn’t even buy medicine for a cold. Mark frowned, clearly unable to accept my attitude. “Riley, Mason is an adult. And he’s in a wheelchair, not missing his hands! He can order takeout, he can take care of himself.” But I still insisted on going back. “Riley, you’re too much with him…” He cut himself off mid-sentence. He looked like he was searching for the right words, then finally just patted my shoulder gently. “Sometimes, what you see isn’t the whole truth. You need to open your eyes and really *see* people. Don’t believe everything you’re told.”
After Mark spoke, he walked out of the room with a complex expression to handle my discharge papers. I didn’t understand what he meant, and my urgency to get back home left me no time to ponder his words. I shakily stood up and quickly gathered my belongings. I slipped out, slinking past the nurses, and headed straight home. As I rushed home from the hospital, I tried calling Mason, worried something might have happened, while also mulling over Mark’s cryptic words. “Open your eyes and see people”? Was someone betraying me? Was someone trying to trick me? Or was he trying to hint at something? I shook my head, discarding those chaotic thoughts. Mason still wasn’t answering my calls, making me even more worried that something had happened to him. The most important thing now was to get home and check on Mason. The moment I pushed open the front door, my already anxious heart pounded even harder. The apartment was a disaster zone, shattered fragments everywhere, furniture overturned like a hurricane had ripped through it. Mason lay sprawled next to his wheelchair, unmoving like a dying fish. A group of men surrounded him. One of them banged a stick against Mason’s overturned wheelchair. “Pay up, or we’ll carve out your kidneys!” “Mason!” My voice cracked, a desperate shriek. I rushed forward to help him up, but a rough hand seized my wrist. “No money to pay, but you’re still wearing jewelry!” The man glared at me, menacingly reaching for the jade bracelet on my wrist. “No! That’s from my great-grandmother!” I struggled desperately, but his strength was overwhelming. He easily ripped the jade bracelet from my arm. “Fine, we won’t leave empty-handed today. This bracelet will serve as collateral. We’ll hold off on the kidneys for now.” I told them it was genuine antique jadeite and, at market value, it should clear a million of their debt. The man laughed, calling me naive. He said collateral never goes by market value. “And it’s a dead person’s jewelry, bad juju! We’ll give you thirty-five thousand for it, at most.” I opened my mouth to say something, but ultimately, I remained silent. After the men left, I quietly began cleaning up the mess. Suddenly, my phone rang. It was the rehab hospital where Mason was getting treatment. “Ms. Riley… International rehabilitation specialist Richard… next month… Yes… you can book an appointment…” The nurse’s excited voice came through the receiver. “If we can get him to see Mason, the chances of recovery will be much higher!” Finally, a piece of good news amidst all the bad! I nodded excitedly, agreeing to book the specialist’s appointment. My gaze involuntarily fell on Mason. His dull eyes subtly shifted, meeting my tear-filled, hopeful gaze. His expression was complex, with a look I couldn’t decipher, but at least he seemed a little more human. I hung up the phone, my heart hammering, a frantic drumbeat against my ribs. Finally, there was hope.
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