My Dormmate Dumped Her 300-Pounds Match on Me, Turns out He Was a Secret Billionaire

The day before Bianca was supposed to meet a guy she’d been talking to on a dating app for six months, she found out he weighed over three hundred pounds. She cried about it for almost an hour. Then she looked at me and said, “You have to go instead.” I stared at her. “Excuse me?” “I used your pictures and your name. He already thinks I’m you.” “And somehow that’s my problem?” “Emily, please.” “No.” “If you don’t go, I’ll post the screenshots on social media and tell everyone you’ve been lying to him.” I just looked at her. Then she added, “And I still have those pictures from last semester.” My stomach dropped. She meant the pictures she’d taken while I was changing in our dorm. The ones she swore she deleted. “You’re seriously using those to make me do this?” “It’s one dinner. Meet him, tell him you’re not interested, and leave.” I held out my hand. “Give me the account.” Her face brightened. “So you’ll do it?” “Just give it to me.” Bianca and I only ended up roommates because she’d asked for a single and housing didn’t have any left. She complained about it constantly. I didn’t. My financial aid covered the room, so I was just happy I had somewhere to live. Bianca had used my identity on the dating app because she didn’t want guys knowing who she really was. Ethan Ashford had become her favorite because he was sweet, clingy, and ridiculously generous. Then she found his real social media account. The pictures he’d sent weren’t fake. They were just old. He’d gained a lot of weight since then. That was enough for Bianca. The next afternoon, I met him at a restaurant downtown. “Emily?” Ethan stood up when he saw me and immediately looked nervous. “Hey. I’m Ethan.” “I figured.” He laughed under his breath. “Sorry. I’m kind of freaking out.” I already knew what he looked like, but seeing him in person still caught me off guard. He was much bigger than he’d been in the old pictures. Still, the way he kept glancing at me and looking away was kind of cute. I sat down. “Ethan, I actually need to tell you something.” “Oh, wait.” He pushed a small box toward me. “I got you something.” I opened it and froze. The necklace inside was from a designer brand I knew very well. “Ethan, this is way too expensive.” His face fell. “You don’t like it?” “No, I like it. I just—” “Right. Sorry. I forgot you like cash better.” “What?” My phone buzzed. $12,000 received. I stared at the screen. Twelve thousand dollars was more than I made in a year at my campus jobs. “Emily?” I looked up. Ethan was watching me nervously. “You got really quiet.” “I’m just surprised.” His eyes dropped to the table. “Is it because I’m fat?” I didn’t answer fast enough. “The pictures I sent you were really me,” he said. “They’re just old. I gained a lot of weight after I started taking medication.” “I know.” He looked up. “You do?” “Yeah.” “I’m trying to lose it. I should’ve told you before we met. I just thought if you knew, you wouldn’t come.” His eyes turned red. Then a tear rolled down his cheek. “Please don’t leave.” I looked at him, then at the twelve thousand dollars on my phone. The speech I’d prepared about Bianca suddenly became a lot harder to give. I reached across the table and took his hand. “Hey. Don’t cry.” “You’re staying?” I hesitated. “Yeah.” “Really?” “Really.” He smiled. “And if you still want to lose weight, I’ll help you.” “You mean that?” “Yeah.” His smile got even bigger. “Thanks.” I squeezed his hand. “Don’t make me regret it.”

By the time I got back to my dorm, I had officially accepted the twelve thousand dollars. I stared at the notification for another ten seconds before hitting confirm. Bianca could judge me later. My bank account had been sitting at eighty-four dollars that morning. Twelve grand could cover groceries, textbooks, my phone bill, and a long list of things I usually pretended I didn’t need. Ethan, meanwhile, acted like he’d sent me twenty bucks. After dinner, he took me shopping. Not regular shopping. Ethan apparently had a personal shopper at one of the department stores downtown, which was how I ended up standing in a dressing room while a woman kept bringing me clothes I would normally be afraid to touch. I came out holding the price tag on a dress. “Ethan.” He looked up from his phone. “This is eight hundred dollars.” “Okay.” “Okay?” “You like it?” “That is not the point.” He looked confused. “What’s the point?” I stared at him for a second. “You know what? Never mind.” He smiled. “Get it.” Three hours later, I was carrying more bags than I had owned clothes. When Ethan drove me back to campus, he stopped outside my dorm but didn’t get out. I looked at him. “You coming in?” His hand tightened around the steering wheel. “I probably shouldn’t.” “Why?” He glanced toward the students walking past outside. “People are going to stare.” I knew what he meant. His shirt was expensive and perfectly clean, but it pulled tight around his stomach. He’d barely looked at anyone all afternoon unless he had to. I unbuckled my seat belt. “Ethan.” “Yeah?” I leaned over and kissed his cheek. He froze. Completely froze. I had to bite back a laugh. “I don’t care if people stare.” He slowly turned toward me. “You don’t?” “No.” I opened the door, then looked back. “But when you lose the weight, you’re walking me all the way upstairs.” His eyes lit up. “Deal.” I carried the bags into the dorm. My other roommate, Madison, looked up from her bed. “Emily, what happened to you?” “What?” She pointed at the bags. “Did you rob somebody?” I laughed. “My date bought them.” Bianca turned around at her desk. For one second, her eyes went straight to the shopping bags. Then she smiled. “So you actually went.” “Yep.” “And?” “He’s nice.” Bianca laughed. “You’re serious?” “Yeah.” She leaned back in her chair. “Emily, he’s huge.” “I noticed.” “And you still like him?” “I said he’s nice.” She looked me over, then glanced at the bags again. “Well, I guess that works for you.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” She shrugged. “You need the money. He needs someone who doesn’t care what he looks like.” Madison went quiet. I stared at Bianca. She smiled like she hadn’t just insulted both of us. “Honestly, you two kind of make sense.” I almost told her right then. Instead, I put the bags on my bed. On the ride back, I’d looked Ethan up properly. He wasn’t some random rich guy with a trust fund. He’d started a gaming company while he was still in college. Ashford Interactive now had several huge titles, including one Bianca had spent half of last semester playing on her phone. The company was worth an absurd amount of money. And Ethan owned most of it. Bianca was still smiling. “I hope you guys are happy.” I smiled back. “Thanks.” Then I turned away before she could see how hard I was trying not to laugh.

Ethan took the whole weight-loss thing seriously. At least, that’s what I thought at first. The next morning, he texted me a photo of his breakfast and a meal plan from his dietitian. Ethan: Look. I’m being good. I sent back a voice message. “Proud of you. Keep it up.” He replied almost immediately. Ethan: Anything for you. For the next week, I got updates constantly. Pictures from the gym, photos of whatever his dietitian had told him to eat, and complaints about how much he hated vegetables. Then, a week later, he sent me a picture of the scale. He’d gained two pounds. I called him. “What happened?” There was a long pause. “I followed the plan.” “Ethan.” “I did.” “Then how did you gain weight?” Another pause. “I get hungry at night.” “And?” “I order food sometimes.” “What kind of food?” “Nothing crazy.” “Ethan.” He sighed. “Wings.” “How many?” “I don’t know.” “You know.” “Twenty.” I closed my eyes. “And fries.” “Of course there were fries.” “And sometimes a milkshake.” I laughed because otherwise I was going to lose my mind. “You cannot spend all day following a diet plan and then order half the menu at midnight.” “I know.” “Do you?” “I said I know.” He sounded so miserable that I almost felt bad for him. Almost. “Where are you?” “At home.” “I’m coming over.” Twenty minutes later, Ethan opened the door holding a giant iced coffee that looked suspiciously full of whipped cream. I took it out of his hand. “Hey.” “What is this?” “Coffee.” “This is dessert with a straw.” He frowned. “I was drinking that.” “Not anymore.” He followed me outside. “What are we doing?” “Walking.” “For how long?” “Until I stop being annoyed with you.” “That could take hours.” “Then you’d better start moving.” He actually laughed. After that, I started doing more of it with him. His trainer handled the real workouts. I just made sure he actually showed up, went on walks with him, and talked him out of ordering food every time he got hungry at midnight. One night, he called me at almost one in the morning. “I want pizza.” “No.” “I’m starving.” “You ate dinner.” “That was four hours ago.” “You’ll survive.” “What if I don’t?” “I’ll send flowers.” He laughed. “Wow. You really care about me.” “I care enough to stop you from ordering pizza.” “That’s basically love.” A few weeks in, I gave him extra motivation. “Every ten pounds, you get a kiss on the cheek.” He looked at me. “Seriously?” “Seriously.” “What do I get at fifty?” I smiled. “We’ll see.” His eyes narrowed. “That sounds promising.” “Don’t get ahead of yourself.” It worked way better than I expected. Six months later, Ethan barely looked like the man I’d met at that restaurant. He’d lost a huge amount of weight, his old clothes were gone, and apparently his trainer had introduced him to fitted shirts. I was staring at him one afternoon when he caught me. “What?” “Nothing.” “You’ve been looking at me for like thirty seconds.” “I have not.” He smiled. “You like it.” “You’re very annoying now.” “You still like it.” Before I could answer, my phone buzzed. It was Madison. EMILY. CHECK YOUR PHONE. Another message came in. You’re literally all over social media right now. I frowned and opened the link she sent me. Then I stared at the screen. Someone had posted a photo of me from campus. The caption read: Okay, who is Emily Parker and why has nobody told me she looks like this?