After my boyfriend left me, he found out I was from a wealthy family

It was three months before the wedding.

My fiancé, Mark Hughes, had been recognized by the Hughes family and become a wealthy young heir overnight.

He sat me down, looking uncomfortable.

“Anna,” he began, “the Hughes family of Seabrook won’t accept a lame orphan as their son’s wife.”

“You should know better.”

I nodded, then turned and texted the waiting event planner.

“Keep the arrangements as planned, but change it to a ‘family reunion’ instead of a wedding.”

Mark, dressed in an expensive suit, mingled with guests in the opulent ballroom.

He’d placed me in a secluded corner.

“Annie, just wait here, okay? Don’t walk around, just sit quietly.”

I saw a flicker of pleading in his eyes and smiled in agreement.

“Mark, when are you going to introduce me to your family?”

He hesitated for a moment, then someone called him away.

He didn’t answer.

This was Mark’s “coming home” party.

We’d been together for years, both orphans, clinging to each other for warmth.

Now, he was the second son of the wealthy Hughes family of Seabrook.

He was a far cry from the boy who used to split a single cup of ramen with me when we were broke.

I really shouldn’t walk around at events like this; it draws too much attention.

But a child spilled a drink near me, and the server asked me to move.

So many eyes were on me.

Because I’m lame.

I limped along in my simple dress, my uneven gait obvious.

Several people snickered. I tried to walk as slowly as possible.

Mark looked over from across the room, his face tight.

I wanted to tell him I hadn’t meant to stand up and walk.

Someone asked him, “Mark, is this the young lady you brought?”

Mark, embarrassed, leaned down and whispered to me.

“Didn’t I tell you not to move around?”

“Do you know everyone here is from Seabrook’s high society? I just got back; do you want to embarrass me? I regret bringing you here!”

I was at a loss for words.

He forced a casual tone. “Just a friend. She gave me a lot of encouragement during my hardest times! So, I invited her.”

Everyone praised him for his grateful heart, for not forgetting his old friends after becoming rich.

But someone looked me up and down, sneering. “Mark, why don’t you have your friend sit down and rest? Standing must be tiring!”

“Hahaha, yeah, especially with two legs of different lengths!”

Their stares were blatant. Mark laughed awkwardly, changing the subject.

When I first injured my leg, even if someone glanced at it, Mark would defensively stand in front of me, glaring at any unkind looks.

Now, he wouldn’t even admit I was his fiancée.

I turned and left the hotel.

Mark barely glanced at me before resuming his laughter and conversation.

Now that I was gone, he seemed much more relaxed.

No one would embarrass him anymore.

I wasn’t born with a limp.

Three years ago, Mark had a high fever and convulsions.

We were renting a run-down apartment; the snow was falling heavily outside.

The old neighborhood streets were narrow and winding.

The ambulance was delayed. Panicked, I carried him down six flights of stairs.

I didn’t realize until I’d gotten him into the ambulance and we were at the hospital that I’d fallen on the stairs, and my right leg was throbbing with pain.

The doctor said it was a medical marvel that I could carry someone with a fractured leg.

“Your boyfriend was saved just in time, but it’s a pity about your leg; a second injury is difficult to heal.”

It left a lasting effect, and I’ve walked with a limp ever since.

After Mark’s fever subsided, he took care of me, often looking at my leg with tears in his eyes at night.

I joked, “If I become lame, will you dislike me?”

He’d playfully knock on my head, his eyes full of affection. “Nonsense. Even if you lose a leg, I won’t dislike you, especially since you saved me.”

He swore, “Mark will never dislike Anna.”

But now, Mark wouldn’t acknowledge me in public.

I returned to our newly decorated apartment.

Looking around at the 800-square-foot space, despite its size, it held all of our hard work and dreams.

We couldn’t afford much at first, so we bought a tent and lived in it inside the apartment, adding furniture piece by piece as we could afford it, just to save on rent.

Mark didn’t contact me that night.

I saw him in some short videos online, though.

He was drinking and laughing with a group of young people.

Someone asked him, “Got a girlfriend? Rumor has it you have a girl who’s always been with you!”

He pushed his glasses up his nose, his voice calm. “Just a rumor. Just a friend.”

“Good. You’re the Hughes’ second son now; I have a few socialites I can introduce you to later!”

He smiled and agreed.

At the end of the party, Mark left in the same car as a young woman.

A chill ran through me. I was sleeping in a new bed, but I felt so cold. Mark showed up the next afternoon.

He didn’t notice my packed bags.

He just stood in the small living room.

When it was still an empty shell, we’d painted the walls ourselves, dreaming about where we’d put everything.

I remembered tripping over some building materials.

Mark had held me close, saying fiercely, “Anna, I’ll work harder and make more money so you can live in a bigger place! A place with a living room bigger than this whole apartment!”

I’d wiped the paint off his cheek, feeling content.

“This living room is big enough, Mark. I’m happy! We finally have a home!”

We’d slept in dorm rooms at the orphanage, then in cramped rentals. It took us six years to save for the down payment on this 800-square-foot apartment.

Now, it seemed tiny.

I’d seen pictures of Mark’s new home, a mansion with a living room ten times the size of ours.

He’d kept his promise about a bigger living room, but I wouldn’t be in it.

We’d been together so long; we deserved a proper goodbye.

Mark spoke tentatively.

“Anna, the Hughes family won’t accept a lame orphan.”

I looked at him calmly.

“Oh? Is that the Hughes family’s opinion, or yours? What do you think, Mark?”

He didn’t hesitate. “You know I just got back. I need to secure my position in the family. They’ve already chosen someone for me to marry.”

I laughed. “Then goodbye, Mark. I understand. Relationships end. We don’t have any shared assets. Let’s sell the apartment and split the profit.”

He seemed surprised by my directness.

“Anna, you keep the apartment. Consider it compensation.”

“That’s not necessary. The apartment is worth more now than when we bought it. I won’t be homeless. Besides, we’re not married. We were together by choice, so there’s no need for compensation.”

Mark was silent for a moment. He reached out and took my hand.

“The wedding was small anyway. Just a few friends and colleagues. You can tell them it’s off.”

“The Hughes family doesn’t know about us.”

“Actually, I was thinking… you could keep living here. We can tell everyone we’re just friends. These high-society marriages… they’re not always what they seem. I can still take care of you! You can stay here, and I’ll visit a few times a month! You won’t have to worry about money anymore!”

Disgust welled up inside me. I slapped him.

I couldn’t believe this was the man I’d loved for years.

“Mark, are you asking me to be your mistress? Your side piece?”

He pulled his arm away. “Anna, don’t be unreasonable! You have a bad leg, you’re an orphan, where will you go? Back to sleeping on park benches and living in dumps?”

He remembered our first year after leaving the orphanage.

We’d worked for a deadbeat boss who refused to pay us after six months.

We were evicted when the rent was due.

At our lowest point, we’d huddled together on a park bench for two weeks.

That’s why buying this small apartment, even living in a tent inside it, had felt so fortunate.

My chest tightened with anger.

“Mark, let’s pretend we don’t know each other, just like you said yesterday.”

He snapped, “Anna, I’m being kind, remembering our past. Don’t regret this! Don’t come crawling back to me! You have no idea how many women would kill to be with a Hughes!”

I sank back down, feeling weak. The past few years felt like I’d swallowed chocolate-flavored… something unpleasant.

“Mark,” I said, “I won’t be the one regretting this.”

I expedited the sale of the apartment.

It was my first home, built drop by drop with my own sweat and blood. I never imagined I’d be selling it so soon.

A woman in a Chanel suit and carrying a designer bag came to view the apartment.

She radiated an air of expensive luxury.

I assumed she was a potential buyer.

She walked in, wrinkling her nose as she looked around.

Her gaze landed on the photos of Mark and me on the wall. I’d forgotten to take them down. They were from our first professional photoshoot.

For my 25th birthday, Mark had worked two jobs and excitedly dragged me to a studio.

He’d said, “I see you looking at that place every time we walk by! Now that I have some money, let’s do it! You’re the prettiest, Annie!”

We’d chosen the cheapest couples package.

Just two large prints and an album, but I’d cherished them.

The memory stung.

“Anna, is it? You and Mark lived here?”

I was surprised.

She placed a handkerchief on the sofa before sitting down.

“I’m Mark’s fiancée, Stella York.”

“The Hughes family doesn’t care about Mark’s past, but I do. I have to check these things.”

“I suggest you be smart about this. Mark should give you some money. That’s how these things are handled, a little payoff for the discarded playthings.”

“Mark can be careless. Here’s a hundred thousand dollars. Enough for you to leave Seabrook and start over. Stay away from Mark from now on. Otherwise… I wouldn’t want anything to happen to your other leg.”

I almost laughed. I’d already swallowed the… unpleasant thing… and now the flies were buzzing around it.

“Ms. York, Mark and I have broken up. You have nothing to worry about.”

Just then, Mark rushed in.

He patted Stella’s head affectionately.

“What are you doing here?”

Stella pouted. “You’re a Hughes now. We’re getting engaged next month. I need to handle these things for you. What if some clingy ex embarrasses you?”

She glanced at me.

Mark soothed her without looking at me. “We’ve broken up. She knows she’s not in my league. She initiated it.”

Stella’s demeanor changed completely, all sweet and innocent, unlike the woman who’d just threatened me. “Oh, good.”

I picked up the check from the table and threw it in Mark’s face. “Here’s your hundred thousand dollars. Stay away from me.”

Stella was taken aback by my defiance. “The nerve of this cripple!”

She shoved me, and I stumbled, falling to the floor.

Mark didn’t look back as he left with Stella. “Don’t bother with her; she’s just an orphan.”

He posted a picture of them kissing on social media, announcing his new relationship.

A perfect, glamorous couple.

I was suddenly grateful I hadn’t told him about the surprise I’d planned for our wedding day.

The housekeeper answered my call and quickly arranged a car to pick me up.

That night, I went home… to the Yeats family estate.

I’d lied to him, too.

The Yeats family had found me two months earlier.

As a child in the orphanage, I’d dreamed of finding my parents, of feeling their embrace.

It had happened over a decade later than I’d hoped. The Yeats family was far wealthier than the Hughes; they were old money, discreet but powerful.

My newfound parents showered me with love, eager to make up for lost time.

They indulged my every whim, trying to compensate for the missing years.

I’d told them about my fiancé.

He was proud and hardworking. I hadn’t wanted to overwhelm him by revealing my true identity.

I’d planned to surprise him on our wedding day, presenting it as a simple family reunion.

He had no parents, so we would both gain a family.

I hadn’t anticipated Mark being claimed by the Hughes family.

It turned out Mark wasn’t an orphan either; he was the Hughes’ illegitimate son.

I remembered the night before the paternity test. He’d had a few drinks and clung to me, talking.

“Anna, do you think I’m a Hughes? They’re so rich! What if I’m not? I want to find my parents, too!”

“Anna, are we going to be rich? Will we finally stop struggling, living paycheck to paycheck with that huge mortgage? You’ll be a CEO’s wife! Haha!”

I’d helped him to bed, whispering, “Mark, whether you are or not, you have me. We’re doing okay, just the way we are.”

“What if I’m some lost heiress, too?”

Mark had mumbled, “You’re dreaming, Anna. Haha, what are the odds? Don’t tell me you’re jealous!”

The next day, after the results came back positive, Mark moved into the Hughes mansion and never looked back.

We all moved in the same social circles. My parents had seen Mark’s announcement.

Dad was furious. “That little Hughes bastard thinks he’s too good for a Yeats?!”

Mom said, “It’s a blessing in disguise. Human nature is unpredictable. It cost Anna so little to see his true colors. She’s better off.”

My parents had been secretly planning our wedding.

They’d respected my choices but wanted to give me the best of everything.

I said calmly, “Keep the date. Just change it to my ‘coming out’ party.”

Their faces lit up, eyes brimming with tears.

“Yes! We’ll invite all of Seabrook! My daughter can choose anyone she wants! A new fiancé! This is perfect!”

I’d been relatively calm since our reunion. They’d been treading carefully around me, sensitive to my emotions.

After all, we’d missed out on twenty years together. Blood might be thicker than water, but it still takes time to bond.

They’d wanted to throw a huge party to introduce me to the world.

The next day, Mom scheduled an appointment with a specialist.

She stroked my leg tenderly. “Your father arranged for a specialist ages ago, just waiting for you to come home. He said your leg is easily fixable.”