“I still don’t quite get what you do for work,” Emma muttered as she and Alex sat snuggled under a soft gray blanket, watching an old TV series on his well-worn laptop.
“I’ve told you—I’m a sysadmin,” Alex replied with a grin.
“To me, a sysadmin is just someone who fixes office printers,” Emma teased.
“No, no. Printers aren’t my thing. But if the internet’s down, that’s my cue. Now, are we watching this show or not?” Alex laughed, trying to steer the conversation elsewhere.
“Alright, alright! But wait—do you fix computers too?”
“That’s it, chatterbox! You’re asking for it!” Alex lunged at her, tickling her until—oops—his elbow bumped a mug of tea, spilling it all over the laptop.
“Alex, you’re a tech guy! How are you going to survive without your computer?” Emma panicked, clearly more upset than Alex, who stayed remarkably calm.
“It’s fine…” he waved it off casually. “I’ll sort something out tomorrow. And for the last time, I’m not a programmer. I’m a sysadmin.”
“Okay, fine,” she sighed. “But can you even live without a computer? Want to borrow mine?”
“You know what? You’re right! Not about the laptop, but about something else—you should move in with me, laptop and all!”
“Maybe I will,” Emma said playfully, “but on one condition: we split the rent equally. I don’t want you blowing all your money on the apartment.”
Emma had noticed the apartment needed repairs, and Alex drove an old, battered sedan. But none of that mattered to her.
That evening, they moved Emma’s belongings into Alex’s place.
She was happy with him, but a nagging feeling lingered. Something seemed off—like Alex was hiding something. It wasn’t obvious, but his oddly nonchalant attitude about money didn’t fit the usual middle-class mindset.
One evening, Alex came home grinning, carrying a sleek box.
“A MacBook? Alex, are you serious? That thing costs as much as a car!”
“Oh, relax, Emma! It didn’t cost me a thing. Remember that contest I mentioned? No? Guess I forgot to tell you. Anyway, it was this online thing—‘Sysadmin of the Year.’ I entered, answered some easy questions, and forgot about it. Today, I got a call: ‘Come collect your prize.’ So it’s free.”
Another day, Emma noticed a shiny new phone in Alex’s hand instead of his worn-out Samsung.
“Alex, where did you get that?” she asked, her voice tinged with worry.
“Oh, Emma, don’t stress. I broke my old one today, so I just grabbed the first decent phone I found.”
“And the ‘first decent phone’ couldn’t have been cheaper? Alex, I know how much that model costs.”
“Come on! It’s just a couple hundred bucks. It’s got everything I need, and look—” Alex eagerly demonstrated its features.
Emma, who had never spent more than necessary on a phone, listened halfheartedly, thinking: This doesn’t add up. We can’t afford these things. He’s not telling me something.
A few days later, while Emma was watching the sunset from the balcony, a sleek luxury car pulled into the courtyard. Behind the wheel sat an elegant older woman. She saw the passenger lean over to kiss the driver’s cheek before stepping out. It was… Alex.
Everything clicked. That’s where the expensive purchases came from. That’s why he was so relaxed about money.
Emma had heard of wealthy older women lavishing gifts on young lovers. Her Alex? With that woman? She felt light-headed. She almost confronted him right then but stopped herself. I need to hear it from him first.
“Alex,” Emma greeted him later. “How was your day?”
“Great, babe! Yours?” He hugged her, but she stepped back.
“Fine… Until I saw you getting dropped off by some woman.”
“Oh, that? That’s Margaret—one of my regular clients. I was fixing things at her company, so she gave me a lift.”
“A client? And do you kiss all your clients on the cheek?”
Alex stared at her before bursting into laughter.
“So that’s it! You’re jealous! Emma, she’s like a second mom to me!”
Emma felt a bit reassured and hugged him, but doubt lingered. Then she remembered someone—an acquaintance named Max, known for being able to dig up information for a price.
The next morning, Emma found Max in his usual spot.
“Max?” she asked cautiously.
“It’s Maxie for friends. What do you need?”
Pulling him aside, Emma explained her request. “Can you help me?”
Max shadowed Alex for a week but wasn’t discreet. One evening, Alex approached him directly.
“Max, we need to talk.”
“How did you—”
“Come on. You’ve been following me all week. Emma sent you, didn’t she?”
“Uh… can I not answer that?”
“You don’t have to. Let’s grab coffee.”
Over coffee, Alex laid out everything for Max.
“So, we’re clear?”
“Crystal. See you tomorrow at seven.”
The next evening, Emma opened the door to find Max holding cash.
“Emma, I couldn’t find anything on Alex. Here’s your deposit back.”
“But how did you find me? I never gave you my address.”
“Alex gave it to me. That’s how.”
Emma fumed. Margaret must have bribed Max too! Alex is a liar. I’m leaving!
Before she could finish packing, Alex appeared.
“Good timing—you’re packing! We’re moving tomorrow. But tonight, get dressed—we’re going to dinner.”
“At the restaurant, Margaret and another man were waiting.
“Mom, Dad, meet Emma.”
“Mom? Dad?” Emma stammered.
Alex explained: a few years back, he and his mother started a company. It flourished, but success attracted gold diggers. To find genuine love, Alex had pretended to be ordinary. Emma had passed the test.
“And now that you know everything…” Alex knelt. “Will you marry me?”
At that moment, Max burst in.
“Can I say congrats now? Go on—kiss already!”
Three months later, they were married. A year after that, their daughter, Sophie, was born.
