My Boyfriend Fed Me Rotten Food for Her. So I Exposed Them Both

There was another knock at the door. The delivery driver handed Celeste a beautifully packaged meal. She carefully opened it to reveal two dishes that looked, smelled, and tasted exquisite. She propped up her phone right away and went live. I opened my own phone and joined her livestream for the first time. A viewer named Bridgie was flooding the screen with gift after gift. Bridgie. That was my nickname. It was also Ezra's online handle across every platform. My eyes stung. I forced the tears back, picked up the dish called "A Clean Break," and put it in my mouth. A sharp, searing pain shot through me. I dropped the chopsticks instinctively and grabbed a mirror. Blood was already trickling from the corner of my mouth. I opened my mouth wider and saw that the inside was a bloody mess, the flesh torn open. I spat out a mouthful of bloody foam. Hidden in it was a small shard of glass. "Bridget, are you okay?!" Celeste cried out, though she didn't even come over to check on me. I ignored her. I took out the iodine and cleaned the wound, my brow furrowing as I worked. Then I broke apart the fried egg and found it filled with countless tiny shards of glass. I let out a bitter laugh and snapped a photo for Ezra. "What's this supposed to mean?" He didn't reply. But at that very moment, over in Celeste's livestream, Ezra spoke up. "Celeste, didn't you say a little glass wouldn't be noticeable when she ate it?" "How did Bridget get hurt that badly?" Celeste saw the comment. Her face fell, and she looked at the screen with a wounded expression. "I read about it online too. Most people wouldn't even notice. Are you seriously going to blame me for it?" She pushed the food aside. "I'm sorry, everyone. I'm feeling a little down. I don't think I can eat anymore." Ezra was silent for a few seconds. Then an even more expensive virtual gift popped up on the screen. He said, "I'm not blaming you, Celeste. As long as you eat well, I'll do anything for you." Those were the same words he'd said to me countless times. I lowered my eyes and dumped the rest of the food into the trash. The wound in my mouth began to seep blood again. It stung with a dull ache. That same night, Ezra took me to the hospital. We stood facing each other in the hospital corridor. He hung his head, guilt written all over his face. "Babe, I really didn't mean it. I had no idea shards from that glass bottle would end up in the fried egg. Hit me. Go ahead, hit me." He grabbed my hand and tried to pull it toward his own face. I pulled my hand back. My voice was flat. "It's fine." Ezra's expression relaxed slightly. It was already late. The corridor was nearly deserted, with only the nurses on duty nearby. He led me to a bench and sat me down, gently applying medicine to the wound. The concern in his eyes wasn't something he could fake. Something in me softened. I was just about to ask him what all of this was really for. His phone rang. At once, Ezra's expression changed. "Bridgie, one of my buddies had too much to drink. I have to go take care of him." "Do you really have to go?" I murmured. "I really do." His expression tightened. He set the medicine down and strode away without so much as a goodbye. And at that very moment, a notification popped up on my phone. Celeste had posted a photo from a convenience store. 【One in the morning, and I just happened to mention I was craving a Marc set meal, and a certain someone promised me he'd be there in three minutes.】 I stood up and threw the medicine Ezra had bought into the trash. One in the morning. I didn't want to waste money on a cab, so I walked back to the dorm from the hospital alone. Maybe out of guilt, Ezra asked me to have breakfast with him. We rarely ate breakfast together.

I used to think our schedules just never lined up. It wasn't until that day that I learned the truth. He'd told Celeste that eating breakfast with me, watching me struggle to swallow every bite, made him lose his appetite for the rest of the day. Ezra had bought a whole spread of breakfast food. All I'd asked for was a bowl of plain rice porridge. Stirring the porridge with my spoon, I asked him, "Do you still remember why I developed anorexia?" He froze for a second. Clearly, he'd forgotten. "I was adopted. My adoptive parents kept me half-starved for years. But on my 18th birthday, they prepared a whole table full of my favorite dishes." "I ate three bowls of rice and was so full I could barely move. When I went to get some water, I overheard them talking. They were planning to marry me off to a widower who lived on the outskirts of the village. He said I was too skinny, so they wanted to fatten me up before sending me over." "I threw up for three days and three nights. After that, even the thought of food was enough to send me into a panic, with my heart pounding uncontrollably." Ezra took my hand and held it firmly. "You've got me now. Don't be afraid." I laughed softly. "I got away. I even made it to college. Every month I get by on part-time work and financial aid. I'm not afraid anymore. I'm not afraid of anything." But the moment I finished speaking, Ezra's hand trembled almost imperceptibly. I didn't understand why he'd been so tense until evening study hall that night. It was the day the school released its list of financial aid recipients, and the class president handed out the list to everyone. I scanned it over and over. I couldn't find my name. What I found instead was Celeste's. As far as I knew, her family was well-off. She'd gotten her start as a mukbang streamer by filming herself eating salmon at upscale restaurants. While I sat there confused, a student government staffer pushed open the classroom door and walked in. "Who's Bridget?" I raised my hand. Then he pulled out a document. "Someone has reported that you falsified your financial circumstances. Your aid is hereby revoked, and you're required to repay all the financial aid you've received over the years." For a moment, my mind went blank. The whole class turned to stare at me, suspicion written all over their faces. I licked my dry lips. "Who reported me?" The staffer answered without hesitation. "Ezra." Heat rushed to my face. The classroom erupted. "Even her own boyfriend reported her. Looks like it must be true." "Never would've guessed she was that kind of person." "Faking poverty to get financial aid? Wow, Bridget, you've really got some nerve." I looked at Ezra. He avoided my eyes. I bit down hard on my lip, my face flushed with humiliation. In that moment, I forgot all about dignity and pride. All I knew was that I couldn't afford to lose my $3,000-a-semester financial aid. I forced my voice to stay steady. "I'm an orphan. I worked odd jobs and saved up for tuition whenever I could. If you don't believe me, ask the restaurant owner right outside the school gate." Doubt flickered across their faces. That was when Celeste spoke up in her soft, sweet voice. "Bridget, stop pretending you don't know what I'm talking about. Everybody knows you eat expensive food every day until you're sick of it." She posted a few photos. There I was, holding a neatly packed lunch box, my expression listless. Inside was expensive gourmet food. It was the food delivery Ezra had ordered for me because he had no time to cook. "My boyfriend bought that for me!" I argued. But Ezra suddenly stood up. "I didn't buy it." He strode over and stopped in front of me. "Bridget, you don't need this money. It should go to someone who truly needs it." I stared at him as if I'd never known this man at all.

The moment I saw Celeste's name on that list, everything suddenly made sense. I forced a cold smile. "I don't accept it." "That's not up to you." Ezra and the Student Council staffer spoke at the same time. "We've already made our decision. Bridget, please don't force us to take disciplinary measures." With contemptuous stares all around me, I lost all strength and slowly sank back into my seat. Ezra asked me to meet him at the back gate of the school. I slapped him with all the strength I had. A clear handprint stood out against his pale face. "Bridget, it's just $3,000. It's not the end of the world." "You have me to take care of you. We'll get married after graduation. You don't need to worry about $3,000." I clenched my teeth, my whole body trembling with rage. "For Celeste's sake. Right?" Ezra's pupils contracted. Then he closed his eyes tightly. "$3,000 is enough for Celeste to shoot a whole month's worth of campus cafeteria videos. She's not short on money, but with this, she won't have to dip into her own spending money." "And me?" It took Ezra a long time to answer. "Bridget, honestly, I've been good enough to you, haven't I? What other boyfriend would do what I do—cook whatever you want whenever you need it?" "Don't let a little bit of money come between us after what we've built over all these years." He turned to leave, then stopped halfway. "There's nothing between me and Celeste. It's just a streamer-and-fan thing. Don't read into it, and don't ever let me catch you going after her." With that, he strode off without looking back. I stood frozen for a long while, then slowly crouched down and wrapped my arms around myself. A sharp pain shot through my stomach. My gastritis had flared up again. Ezra had no idea that $3,000 was all that stood between me and the surgery I needed. Years of anorexia had left me, young as I was, with severe gastritis. The doctor said that if I didn't get it treated in time, it could develop into stomach cancer. To scrape together the money for the operation, I worked nonstop for an entire year, taking one part-time job after another. The financial aid was what finally made up the difference. Now the $3,000 was gone, and the surgery was no longer possible. On top of that, I was nine thousand dollars in debt. For a moment, a wave of pain tore through my entire body. I couldn't even tell anymore whether it was my stomach that hurt, or my heart. The hospital called, asking when I'd come in for the surgery. I was washing dishes in the cafeteria, my stomach aching all the while, and all I could do was bite down on my lip and force myself to stay conscious. "Dr. Cobb, I probably can't have the surgery this year. Let me come back next year..." The doctor let out a helpless sigh. "You can't keep putting it off." "I know. But... I really can't come up with the money." By then, the doctor knew there was nothing he could say to change the situation. After what happened that day, someone posted the video online. Before long, everyone was turning on me. Walking down the street, my classmates couldn't hide the contempt in their eyes. One part-time job after another let me go, saying they couldn't afford to hire someone with my reputation. Only Aunt Pat Whitney at the cafeteria seemed to see me for who I really was. I hung up the phone, wiped the cold sweat beading on my forehead, and went back to the dishes. Ezra and Celeste walked into the cafeteria together. They bought several dishes from the food counter and picked a seat by the window. Celeste ate with her cheeks flushed, and Ezra just watched her, his smile soft and affectionate. He even reached over to gently wipe a grain of rice from the corner of her mouth. The two of them both froze for an instant. I was right there in the back kitchen, not far from them, watching all of it. By the time she got back to the dorm that night, Celeste was still practically glowing with happiness.

Seeing me sit on the edge of the bed without a word, she leaned in, her voice all sugar and spite. "I'm not the one who exposed you for falsely claiming financial aid, Bridget. So why are you always giving me that attitude? Here—my number-one fan bought me this mille-feuille. I'll cut you a slice." "No thanks." My reply came out flat and cold. "Tch, don't bother pretending you're too good for it. Look at the state of you now. Everyone's dragging your name through the mud, treating you like a rat in the gutter. I'm the only one who still bothers with you." She rolled her eyes and turned to go. In that instant, all the rage I'd swallowed over the past few weeks erupted. I grabbed a fistful of Celeste's shirt. "Don't think I don't know what you and Ezra have been scheming behind my back." "The only reason my name's being dragged through the mud is because of you, isn't it?" Celeste shrieked, spun around, and slapped me hard across the face. "You're skinny as a skeleton, and the way you eat is enough to make anyone lose their appetite. No wonder Ezra can't stand you!" "There was only one aid slot to go around, and my mukbang career was worth a hell of a lot more than you!" I wasn't about to back down, and I slapped her right back. But as we grappled, a dull pain suddenly twisted through my stomach. The gastritis had flared up again. And this time, it was worse than ever. All at once, my strength drained away. Celeste shoved me to the floor and started hitting me. The other roommates couldn't pull her off, so they just called Ezra. He got there fast, kicked the dorm door open, and forcefully shoved me out of the way. Celeste quickly teared up. "Ezra…" "Don't say a word." His eyes brimmed with concern for her. "Ezra…" Gritting my teeth, I called his name with everything I had left. "Take me to the hospital… please…" Hearing my voice, Ezra shot me a look of disgust. "Bridget, drop the act. Your roommates already told me you swung first. You had this coming." With that, he scooped Celeste into his arms and walked out with her without another word. My fingers slowly loosened around the hem of my shirt. Just before I lost consciousness, a single tear rolled down my cheek. My last thought before everything went black was simple— Ezra, I hate you. The sharp stomach pain radiated through my entire body. The world spun, and everything went black. When I opened my eyes again, I saw the snow-white ceiling of a hospital. I was in the cheapest eight-bed ward, with no one at my side. I pulled out my phone. Ezra's messages came one after another. I didn't tap into a single one. Instead, I opened the school forum and started a livestream. The stream was titled: 【I'm the one behind the whole financial-aid scandal. Yeah, I stole it. So what.】