The Delivery Guy Said My Online Boyfriend Was Nearly Sixty

Six months into an online relationship and my boyfriend still refused to meet up in real life. Desperate for answers, I hired a food delivery guy to go do some undercover detective work. When the delivery guy finished his mission, he called me with a desperate plea. "Look, sis, just cut your losses. That guy isn't tall, he isn't handsome, and the main thing is, he looks like he's pushing sixty! He was literally holding a cane!" Hearing that, I completely lost my mind. I logged right into the chat app and pounded out a message: You ancient geezer! We're over! The next day, I dragged my miserable body into the office, only to overhear my coworkers gossiping. "What on earth set off Mr. Mitchell today?" "I know, right? Why is he running around asking everyone for links to anti-aging face masks?" 1 When I received the phone call from the delivery guy, I felt like my world was collapsing around me. On the other end of the line, he was still painting a vivid picture. "I swear I'm not making this up, girl! When the door opened, I stood there in complete shock. The guy wasn't tall, wasn't handsome, and looked like he was about sixty years old. He even had a walking cane in his hand!" "You're in the prime of your youth. Find someone else. Otherwise, if people see you two together, they'll think you have an old age fetish!" I mumbled a response in a complete daze, having no idea how I even hung up. By the time my senses returned, tears were streaming down my face like a river. No wonder he always refused to meet me. He was literally so old that moving around was a challenge! And those generous CashApp transfers he kept sending me over the months, were those his retirement pensions?! The thought made me sob even harder. Sniffling, I opened my phone to send all the money back to him. The moment the chat interface popped up, my phone vibrated. My online boyfriend had sent a text: Thank you for ordering afternoon tea for me, baby~ Are your nails done yet? How about I buy you some boba tea? I almost threw up right then and there. The mere realization that I had been calling this old geezer "babe" for half a year made my stomach churn with intense nausea. Oblivious to my sudden meltdown, he kept sending messages: Still getting your nails done? Text me when you're finished, okay? I'll reimburse you. A string of large cash transfers followed immediately after. When it came to money, he had never been stingy. Of course! Someone who doesn't have a job to go to spends money with total freedom! Simmering with rage and resentment, I rejected all the cash transfers and aggressively hammered on my keyboard: No need. I never imagined you were such a wrinkly old fraud. Even saying 'we're breaking up' makes me feel disgusted. Don't ever contact me again! 2 After sending the message, I blocked and deleted him in one swift sequence, then began packing up everything in my apartment. The clothes and bags the old fraud had bought me? Thrown out! The shopping gift cards he had topped up for me? Sold off! The artisanal cured sausages he had personally smoked and sent over... I hesitated for a second. The old guy actually had incredible culinary skills. Those sausages tasted way better than anything bought from a store. Wait, I was looking for a boyfriend, not hiring a private chef! What good were delicious sausages?! So, I packed up the sausages along with the rest and threw them all into the dumpster downstairs to feed the local stray dogs. I didn't step foot outside for the entire weekend, curling up on my sofa and wallowing in sorrow. It wasn't until Monday morning that I finally put on some makeup and dragged myself to work. The moment I stepped into the company, I sensed an unsettling atmosphere. A storm was clearly brewing. "Melanie!" A coworker waved at me frantically. "Hurry up and scan your badge!" I hurried over to clock in and asked in confusion, "What's going on? Everyone looks so panicked." My coworker let out a heavy sigh. "Mr. Mitchell is back from the regional branch, and he's in a horrific mood today! Half a dozen colleagues went into his office to give reports and got chewed out until they were practically weeping!" I froze for a moment. Bryce Mitchell was back? Our big boss had been inspecting the regional branches for almost six months, and he was finally returning to headquarters? I had only joined the company during those six months, so I had never actually interacted with him. Older colleagues said that while he was a bit distant, he wasn't difficult to get along with. Looking at the situation now, though, it seemed those rumors were completely dead wrong. "He can't just lose his temper for no reason, right?" I asked, bewildered. "Who set him off?" My coworker looked around to make sure nobody was nearby, then leaned in close to whisper, "Word on the street is that his girlfriend dumped him!" "And it was an out-of-the-blue, total blackout breakup!" 3 It really was the season for breakups... Connecting it to my own tragic situation, I couldn't help but sigh. Curiosity got the better of me, though. "People don't just break up out of nowhere. There has to be a reason, right?" My coworker squeezed out a few words through her teeth. "Apparently, she dumped him for being too old..." I sucked in a sharp breath. "Bryce Mitchell is old?!" Isn't he not even thirty yet?! On top of that, with a face that looked like a male model, he still got dumped for being too old? Just what kind of ethereal goddess was his girlfriend?! Right as the words left my mouth, the elevator doors across from us chimed open. The doors slid back, and I locked eyes directly with the person standing inside. It was Bryce Mitchell. I had no idea whether he had heard my loud remark, but his icy gaze sent a shiver straight down my spine. "Mr. Mitchell," my coworker greeted him hastily, and the bustling hallway went dead silent in an instant. I instinctively took two steps back and followed suit. "Mr. Mitchell." Bryce gave a lukewarm response and stepped out of the elevator. Just as it seemed he was going to walk right past me, his footsteps abruptly stopped. The next second, he turned his head and locked his gaze squarely on my face. "Which department are you from?" 4 I stood there, momentarily stunned. My team leader quickly chimed in beside me. "This is Melanie Foster, the new hire in the planning department." Bryce stared at me for a few more seconds before issuing a quiet command. "Have her come to my office later to present her project report. I want to see the quality of our new recruits." The team leader nodded frantically in agreement, but my mind was spiraling. Why on earth did a low-level rookie like me have to give a personal report to the CEO? "Don't be nervous," my team leader comforted me once Bryce had walked away. "You've been following this project from the start anyway. Getting some face time in front of the big boss will do wonders for your career when you want to lead bigger projects later." Since things had already come to this, I had no choice but to gather my files and head up to the executive suite. Bryce's office was on the seventeenth floor. It had magnificent natural lighting, but the silence inside was terrifying. I spent a long time mentally preparing myself at the door before finally knocking. "Come in." A deep voice echoed from inside. I let out a slow breath and pushed the door open. "Mr. Mitchell, I'm here to present the project report." Bryce sat behind a massive mahogany desk, his face devoid of any expression. "Go ahead." I had indeed been tracking this project closely, so I knew the structure and details inside out. I spoke continuously for about ten minutes before wrapping up. "That covers the main scope, Mr. Mitchell." Bryce didn't speak immediately. He simply flipped through the document I had brought. After a long moment, he raised his head, his sharp features unreadable. "Are you nervous?" I gave an honest nod. "A little." Bryce showed no reaction to that. He lowered his eyes again, finished reading the final set of data, and tossed the folder onto the desk with a light thud. "Go down to HR and process your handover." I froze. "Mr. Mitchell?" Bryce looked at me, his voice flat and calm. "You're not suitable for the planning department." My heart instantly dropped into my stomach. Was he firing me?! 5 Panic surged through me, and I hurriedly tried to salvage the situation. "Mr. Mitchell, I know my presentation had flaws, but I'm more than willing to learn from the seniors in the department! Please give me one more chance!" Bryce paid no attention to my plea. He turned to his computer and started typing, looking very much like he was drafting an email to HR. Watching his hands move, I knew there was no turning this around, and a wave of bitterness washed over me. Isn't the saying go that when you're unlucky in love, you're lucky in your career?! How come I ended up losing both my love life and my job?! The more I thought about it, the more miserable I felt. Suppressing my rising emotions, I forced myself to ask, "Mr. Mitchell, can you at least tell me where I failed? Just so I can learn from my mistakes and not repeat them at my next company." At that, Bryce finally looked up. His gaze lingered on my reddened eyes for a moment, and an expression of subtle helplessness crossed his face. "Why would you go to another company? To work as a corporate spy?" I pouted slightly. "Aren't you firing me?" Bryce seemed to let out a quiet, amused breath. "When did I ever say I was firing you?" He pointed to the folder on his desk, his tone indifferent. "You managed to turn such a tiny piece of work into a comprehensive ten-minute breakdown. Keeping you in the planning department is a waste of talent. Come work in the executive suite." I blinked, not quite understanding. Bryce was forced to turn his computer monitor around so I could see it. Only then did I realize that he wasn't typing a termination notice at all, but an internal transfer form. He was reassigning me to his personal office! "Complete your handover this morning, and report to my office this afternoon," Bryce said, giving me a quick glance. "Any issues with that?" My heart stopped aching, my eyes stopped watering, and I nodded like a toy bird on a spring. "No issues at all!" Bryce gave a quiet hum and pushed the folder back across the desk. "Head back and pack your things." I responded happily and stepped forward to take the file. Yet, when my fingers touched the cover, I couldn't pull it away. I paused, looking up, only to see Bryce pressing his hand firmly on the folder, his knuckles slightly white. "Your nails..." He stared at my fingers, his dark eyebrows pulling into a faint frown. "They look somewhat familiar." 6 I instinctively lowered my head to look at my hands. Since it was my lucky zodiac year, I had specifically gotten a bright cherry-red gel manicure, a style I had actually chosen together with that old fraud from my online relationship. Now, looking at this shade of red gave me a sudden surge of irritation. "Yeah, this style is really popular this year. A lot of girls got it done," I gave a forced smile, secretly deciding to get them removed the moment I got home tonight. Bryce looked at my nails, then looked at my face, and ultimately said nothing more. He simply waved his hand to dismiss me. The rest of the morning was a chaotic blur. By the time the transfer paperwork was finished, it was already lunchtime. I finally caught my breath and headed down to the cafeteria. My appetite had been terrible over the past two days, so I only ordered a simple bowl of vegetable noodles. After sitting down, I habitually pulled out my phone, took a picture, and sent it to my pinned contact: Baby, lunch check-in~ After sending it, I set my phone down and started eating. Two bites in, a strange, creeping realization hit me. Didn't I already delete that old fraud's chat?! Then who in the world had I just sent that update to?! My heart leaped into my throat. I frantically grabbed my phone and unlocked it. When the screen lit up, my eyes went completely dark. My current pinned contact was... Bryce Mitchell! Just half an hour ago, I had added the big boss's contact through his assistant and pinned him at the top as instructed. Who could have guessed I'd make such a fatal blunder right off the bat! "Bad habits are going to be the death of me..." I groaned internally, my fingers flying as I tried to unsend the message. But the two-minute window had already passed, leaving it permanently delivered. Even more terrifying, my phone vibrated in the very next second. Bryce had actually replied: Who are you calling 'baby', Melanie? 7 Dying of embarrassment, I typed out a panicked explanation: I am so sorry, Mr. Mitchell! I sent that to the wrong person... Bryce didn't seem to mind. He simply asked: That's all you're eating? I answered truthfully: My appetite hasn't been great these past couple of days. Bryce's end went quiet, and he didn't reply again. Assuming he was just engaging in polite small talk, I put my phone away and focused on my food. Because of the transfer paperwork, I had come down to the cafeteria late. Paired with my habit of chewing slowly, the cafeteria had mostly emptied out while my bowl of noodles was still half-full. There was still half an hour left of the lunch break. Just as I was debating whether to keep eating or head upstairs for a nap, a shadow suddenly fell across my table. Looking up, I was surprised to see Bryce's executive assistant. "Still eating?" She smiled warmly and handed over a high-end food container. "An addition to your lunch." I blinked, taking it carefully. Opening the lid, an incredible aroma wafted out, revealing several beautifully prepared gourmet dishes. "Wow, thank you!" My appetite instantly returned. As I dug in, I caught a glimpse of the restaurant logo on the container and gasped softly. "Wait, this place is ridiculously expensive!" The assistant waved a dismissive hand. "Mr. Mitchell's treat. Enjoy as much as you like." I let out a soft whistle. "I have to say, working in the executive office has its perks. Free high-end meals!" The assistant laughed softly. "Not usually. Mr. Mitchell rarely orders takeout; he usually eats at the cafeteria with everyone else. I guess he just wanted a change of flavor today." I blinked, thinking to myself how lucky I was to score a free luxury meal on my very first day. The afternoon passed smoothly with light tasks. I spent most of the time shadowing the senior assistant, and left work right on time. After returning home and finishing dinner, I flopped onto the couch, ready to launch a mobile game. The second I logged into my account, my screen flashed wildly with notifications, 99+ popping up so fast the phone vibrated right out of my grip. It took a full minute for the phone to settle down. Only then did I spot the culprit, who was, unsurprisingly, that old fraud. I had blocked his chat app, but I had completely forgotten to remove him from my game friend list! Looking at the glowing couple badge hovering above our avatars, a wave of disgust washed over me. I moved to sever the in-game bond immediately, but a private message popped up a split second faster: Baby, you finally logged on! Baby, why did you break up with me? QAQ I cringed at the text. How old was he, still using cute kaomoji emoticons? Absolutely nauseating! Refusing to even reply, I opened his profile to remove him. But right before my thumb tapped 'Delete', another message flashed on the screen: I'm not even thirty years old yet! I know I'm a bit older than you, but I'm hardly an ancient geezer, right? Baby, is there some kind of misunderstanding between us!! 8 Not even thirty? For real? I froze, completely bewildered. There was a massive difference between thirty and sixty! Even if he aged poorly, he couldn't possibly look thirty years older than his real age! Fearing I wouldn't believe him, he sent another message right away: Baby, if you don't believe me, I can send you a photo! Forget it. Nine out of ten online photos were heavily edited, and the tenth was usually someone else entirely. Zero credibility. Seeing that I still wasn't responding, he unleashed his ultimate card: Baby, let's meet up in real life. Once you see me with your own eyes, you'll know I'm not lying to you. I hesitated. If he actually had the nerve to suggest an IRL meeting, there was a very high probability that he wasn't a sixty-year-old man after all. Besides, we had been talking for half a year, and our personalities and interests matched terribly well. If we really went our separate ways over a stupid misunderstanding, I would feel a genuine sense of regret. After a moment of deliberation, I typed back: Fine. We can meet. But I pick the time and place. He became instantly ecstatic: Baby, you finally replied to me! I'll listen to you! Wherever you say, we'll go there! After thinking it over, I chose a bustling downtown shopping mall purely for safety reasons. Even if the guy turned out to be some kind of creep, he wouldn't dare try anything under the watchful eyes of a huge crowd. Once the meeting was set, he started pleading again: Baby, can you add me back on the chat app? I really can't get used to not saying good morning and good night to you. I gave him a icy response, telling him we would discuss it after meeting in person, and then immediately logged off. The next day was Tuesday. Morning traffic was an absolute nightmare. I sprinted into the building and managed to clock in right on the dot, only to find everyone in the executive office already seated. "I'm so sorry I'm late," I apologized nervously. The senior assistant shook her head. "It's fine, we just got here too." "Oh, right," she pointed to my desk. "Mr. Mitchell brought some home-style delicacies prepared by his house cook for us to share. Yours is right there." Looking at the box on my desk, I thought to myself that Bryce was actually a pretty decent boss. "Is he not in a bad mood today?" The assistant smiled. "Yeah, he seems to be in a pretty good mood, actually." Men really were unpredictable creatures. I opened the box on my desk, and one item inside instantly caught my attention. It was a pack of cured, smoked sausages. 9 The packaging looked strikingly similar to the ones the old fraud used to mail to me. I pulled out a piece and took a bite. Holy crap, even the flavor was identical! Could it be the exact same recipe? Puzzled, I asked the assistant, "Where is Mr. Mitchell's house cook from?" She shook her head. "I'm not sure. Somewhere local, I think." I hummed thoughtfully, wondering if that old fraud had just bought some commercial gift packs off the shelf to fool me back then. I originally wanted to find an opportunity to ask Bryce about his cook, but the executive suite proved to be insanely busy. Bryce himself was constantly traveling between branches, so it wasn't until Friday's weekly summary meeting that I saw him again. Maybe it was just my imagination, but throughout the entire meeting, Bryce seemed completely distracted, repeatedly checking his wristwatch. Checking the time so anxiously, did he have a date tonight? I didn't have time to gossip, though. The moment the clock struck the end of the workday, I rushed straight to the shopping mall. Friday night traffic was brutal. By the time I reached the mall entrance, I was already twenty minutes late. Fearing he might think I was flaking on purpose, I logged into the game to send a quick message: Traffic was terrible, I just arrived at the mall entrance. Almost at the exact same moment, a reply popped up on my screen: I'm so sorry, baby! I'm late too, I just pulled up to the entrance T^T I blinked. You're at the entrance too? North entrance or South entrance? Just as the text sent, a sharp notification chime sounded from a short distance right in front of me. It was the distinct sound of an incoming game message. I instinctively looked up, only to lock eyes with a terrifyingly familiar face. It was Bryce Mitchell. Why was he here? I stood frozen for a second before letting out a stiff, dry greeting. "Mr. Mitchell, what a coincidence." Bryce stared down at me, his dark eyes deep and unreadable. "It really is a coincidence." He looked at me, then down at the phone tightly clutched in my hand, his expression turning strangely complex. "Melanie, what are you... doing here?" 10 Telling my boss I was here to meet an online boyfriend felt wildly embarrassing, so I couldn't bring myself to say it. Seeing my silence, Bryce's gaze grew even darker. He took a few steps closer, opening his mouth to speak, when someone called my name from behind him. "Melanie!" I turned my head and saw an old college classmate I hadn't seen in ages. A flash of inspiration hit me, and I turned back to Bryce. "I'm meeting a friend for dinner!" Bryce visibly stiffened, clearly caught off guard by that answer. He stared at me, repeating slowly, "You're... meeting a friend?" I waved at my classmate not far away and nodded rapidly. "Yes, yes, my friend is already here! I'll be going now, Mr. Mitchell!" Without waiting for his response, I bolted toward my classmate, grabbed her arm, and practically dragged her away while whispering for her to play along. Fortunately, Bryce didn't chase after us. When I stole a backward glance after putting a significant distance between us, I saw him standing completely alone under the streetlamp, looking inexplicably... desolate. "What's the story there?" my classmate whispered, nudging me. "Did you have a fight with your boyfriend? Damn, Melanie, your boyfriend is gorgeous!" I shook my head frantically. "That's my boss!" She stared at me in disbelief. "Then what was that? The way he looked at you was anything but innocent!" I didn't know what to say to that. With a stoic face like Bryce's, what could anyone possibly read from it? Entering the mall, I parted ways with my classmate and hurried toward the reserved restaurant. It was peak dinner hour, but thankfully I had booked a private dining room in advance. Once inside, I let out a massive sigh of relief and sent a message to my online date: I'm in the private room. Sending you the room number now. He replied instantly: I'm at the restaurant too, baby! Coming in right now. My heart took a sudden, violent leap, and the hand holding my phone began to tremble uncontrollably. Time seemed to compress into a single fraction of a second. Almost the very moment I set my phone down, the door to the private room was knocked and pushed open, a figure stepping right into view... 11 When I saw who stepped through the door, I froze. "Ma'am, I am so sorry to bother you. We just received notice that due to a circuit maintenance issue, the mall will experience a temporary blackout for about ten to thirty minutes. It might affect your dining experience." Standing at the door wasn't an online boyfriend, but a restaurant waiter, looking thoroughly apologetic. "We are deeply sorry for the inconvenience. Would a fifty-dollar voucher be acceptable as compensation?" I blinked. "So I can't eat here right now?" The waiter nodded apologetically. "We sincerely apologize for ruining your plans. We will also provide a free parking voucher." "Uh... alright then." I grabbed my jacket and stood up to follow the waiter out of the room, then suddenly remembered something. "Wait, the person I was meeting..." Before I could finish my sentence, the lights flickered once and went completely black. The mall had lost power. The customers knew what was happening, so there wasn't widespread panic, but with so many people and children around, the restaurant quickly degenerated into a noisy chaos of shuffling feet and startled gasps. Standing on the steps between the private rooms and the main dining hall, I completely lost my footing in the dark. "Ma'am? Ma'am, please follow me. Don't stand in the middle of the stairs, it's not safe!" The waiter's voice was right in front of me, but I couldn't see a single thing. I had mild night blindness, which essentially made me as blind as a bat in pitch darkness. "Excuse me, could you turn on your phone flashlight for a second?" I reached out blindly, trying to find a railing to hold onto, but the moment my hand extended, a panicked customer rushing down the stairs slammed hard into my shoulder. "Watch out!" The waiter's warning came a fraction of a second too late. I was already pitching forward, falling toward the steps below. Just as I braced for impact, a pair of strong arms reached out through the dark and caught me firmly. In the very next second, a bright beam of flashlight illuminated the space between us. 12 The flight of stairs wasn't high, but my forward stumble carried decent momentum. The person who caught me took a forced step back from the impact, yet his arms remained locked securely around my waist, holding me safely against his chest. Scared out of my mind, it took me several seconds to catch my breath and look up. "Thank..." My voice choked in my throat as I met the face illuminated by the light. "Mr. Mitchell??" Looking at Bryce's familiar features, my mind went blank. "Why are you here?" Bryce looked down at me, a tight frown pulling at his brow. "Are you hurt anywhere?" I shook my head slowly. "You came just in time." Still bewildered, I pressed on, "Were you coming here to eat too?" While this restaurant was popular, its status was hardly high-end enough for an executive like Bryce to frequent. A sudden thought struck me, and I pointed upward toward the higher floors. "Mr. Mitchell, did you get the wrong floor? The upscale steakhouse is on the fifth floor." Bryce looked at me with a faint trace of helplessness. "Am I not allowed to eat here?" I scratched my cheek. "It's not that, but that steakhouse up there clearly suits you much better." "What's the point of fitting the restaurant?" Bryce stared down into my eyes, suddenly reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair away from my face. His voice softened into something gentle and intimate. "Fitting the person is what matters." The gesture was so outrageously affectionate that I froze in place. "Um... excuse me, you two..." Behind us, the waiter spoke up nervously in the dark. "Who should I give the meal vouchers and parking pass to?" Bryce raised his head, extending a hand smoothly. "I'll take them." The waiter hesitated. "But the private room was booked under the lady's name..." Bryce gave a quiet, firm nod. "We're together." "The person she came to meet is me."