Over the years, I had crossed paths with countless men.
I had long forgotten what genuine love was supposed to look like.
The only person I had ever truly loved was myself.
Yet looking at who I had become, I couldn’t even love myself anymore, nor was I worthy of love.
If I couldn’t even cherish my own soul, what right did I have to love anyone else?
Yet if I was really going to marry someone and settle down, I had to put on an act.
I had to fake genuine devotion, promising to stay by his side and remain faithful for the rest of my life.
I actually tried whispering those sweet words to a few men, offering solemn vows.
Yet not a single one took me seriously, and no one was willing to take me in.
Under the reign of money, everyone lived with sharp, ruthless calculation.
Every man believed that stealing an affair was far smarter than paying for pleasure.
After all, a secret affair cost nothing, saving a fortune in the process.
I saw through the whole game clearly.
If I stopped charging a single cent and gave myself away for free, every single one of those men would shower me with sweet talk, swearing up and down that they loved me.