The third time I underwent chemotherapy, Asher Vance was at the airport, picking up Willow Sterling from her return. The side effects of chemo were pure torture, making me feel like I was living death. Even my doctor had gently hinted that late-stage treatment probably wouldn’t do much good. “You’ll be in immense pain, and it won’t prolong your life.” He was urging me to consider a dignified exit. I thought about it too. But I couldn’t. My daughter, Stella, was only four years old. I couldn’t let her grow up without a mother, just like I did. Asher Vance and I grew up together in the same upscale neighborhood. Our families were equally well-off, we were close in age, and even our parents had been close friends for years. Mrs. Vance used to tease me more times than I could count. “Harper, darling, when you were still just a bump in your mom’s belly, I already decided you’d be my daughter-in-law!” It was a long-standing family joke. As a kid, I didn’t quite get it, but I knew I really, really liked Asher. In high school and college, he was the most popular guy on campus, the star athlete, the one everyone looked up to. And I was the most beloved girl, the one everyone seemed to adore. When it came to being likable, I was definitely Asher’s equal. But I wasn’t likable to *him*. In college, he plunged into a whirlwind campus romance. Not with me, but with his classmate, Willow Sterling. They did everything every campus couple does: grand romantic gestures with flowers, sharing intimate moments over a single drink, kissing, and eventually, spending nights together. I only met Willow once. Asher brought her back to the Vance family mansion, declaring he wanted to marry her. Mrs. Vance, furious, threw Willow out, Asher right along with her. It was the height of a hurricane. The rain was so heavy it felt like it could knock you down. I saw Asher tumble onto the wet ground. Without a second thought, I grabbed an umbrella and rushed out. The wet pavement was treacherous. I slipped, and the sharp gravel tore into my knee. Blood mixed with the rain, streaming down my leg. But in that moment, I felt no pain. My eyes were fixed solely on Asher, slumped on the ground in the pouring rain. “Ash…” As I got closer, I finally saw Willow. She was drenched, her developed figure clearly outlined beneath her wet clothes. Her beautiful long hair plastered to her face, and her right hand was clutched tightly in Asher’s. “This is because of you, isn’t it? My mom disapproves because of you?” Asher looked at the umbrella I was holding over his head, but those were the only words he spoke to me. I stood there, stunned, watching him snatch the umbrella from my hand and, with Willow, slowly walk away. The hurricane raged. That day, Asher never once looked back. A year later, Asher and I got married. Three years into our marriage, I gave birth to our daughter, Stella. Seven years later, I was diagnosed with cancer. And Willow Sterling, who had vanished for seven years, returned to the country. In a SnapChat message from Willow, she called it karma. She was the only one who knew about my illness, besides my doctor. Because I begged her. “Just fifteen more days. After fifteen days, I’ll give Asher back to you, completely. Can you just…” “Can you let Stella think you’re her mother?”
The first thing I did after every chemo session was adjust my wig. It was too painful; lying in that hospital bed, I was far from presentable. But to the outside world, I was Mrs. Vance. Within my family, I was the sole heiress of the Reid fortune. Everything I learned from childhood was about maintaining composure and dignity. It was no different now. After fixing my wig and clothes, I didn’t look like a patient at all. I looked like a wealthy socialite just popping in for a routine check-up. “I just want a little more time. Time where I can still be myself.” “Mrs. Vance… Ms. Reid, based on human willpower, I’d say you have about fifteen days before you’ll need to be admitted. The pain management medication can only be administered in a special ward.” I knew exactly what he meant by “special medication”—something illegal outside of a hospital. Expensive, dangerous, and a way to lessen the agonizing pain at the very end. “Alright, I’ll be there.” Dr. Evans was a scholarship student my family had sponsored. He always treated me differently than he would a regular patient. “Ms. Reid, are you really not going to tell Mr. Vance? For this illness, family involvement…” “He’s not a doctor. What good would it do for him to know?” I forced a smile, the corners of my mouth stretching the skin on my face, bringing a faint sting, like a tiny blood vessel had burst. I instinctively touched my cheek. My phone buzzed just then. It was Asher. “Where are you?” “At the spa. Why?” I adjusted my voice, trying to make my lie sound more convincing. I heard Asher’s cold snort from the other end. “What kind of mother are you?! The nanny is calling *me*? Do I have to come home and deal with our kid?!” “Is there a problem with you handling our child?” I felt nothing, just answered him mechanically. “You know what’s going on with that child, deep down!” Asher hung up, tossing that line out like trash. I heard the roar of a plane engine and a cacophony of voices on his end. He was at the airport. Because right after he hung up, a SnapChat message from Willow popped up on my phone. The picture showed her and Asher intimately cuddled together, fingers intertwined, like they were already husband and wife. “Ms. Reid, I’ve arrived.” Where would Asher take her today? To the penthouse suite of a luxurious five-star hotel? A carefully arranged suburban villa? Or perhaps that cozy little cabin where they once found ecstasy? I imagined them tangled together, and a wave of nausea surged through me. *Ugh*. When I got out of the car, I couldn’t help but gag at the front door. The door swung open, and a tiny ball of fluff, my little Stella, rushed out and hugged my leg. “Mommy! Stella missed you so much! Boo hoo hoo!” Her adorable little face was streaked with tears and snot, wiping all over my dress. I forced down the discomfort in my body and picked her up. “My poor little Stella, why are you crying so sadly? Mommy will wipe it away.” My munchkin clung to my back, whimpering miserably. “Stella woke up and didn’t see Mommy! I called Daddy, and Daddy was mean to Stella! Mommy, I’m scared.” “Don’t be scared, Mommy went to buy Stella a present.” I pulled out the Frozen Queen hair clip I’d prepared earlier and tucked it into her hand. Little girls are easily pleased; she stopped crying instantly. “Mommy, look! Stella looks pretty!” “Yes, Stella looks beautiful.” A four-year-old wasn’t heavy, but for my current state, it was still a struggle. Before I even made it through the front door, a cold sweat had broken out on my forehead. My little girl noticed immediately and panicked, clumsily trying to wipe the sweat from my brow, clamoring to be put down. I was overjoyed when Stella was born. Besides being Asher’s and my child, her eyes and brows resembled Asher so much. But as she grew, I realized she was more like me. Good. She was more like me. My munchkin ordered dinner, and I, for a rare change, managed to get into the kitchen. As the scent of apples steamed through the air, the villa door opened. Asher Vance. Willow Sterling. And a boy. The boy’s hand was clasped in Asher’s.
“Why are *you* cooking?” Asher walked into the kitchen, first glaring at Maria, then letting his gaze fall on my hands. I didn’t stop stirring with the spatula, but he grabbed my hand abruptly. “Needle marks? I thought you went to the spa?” They were needle marks from IVs. My veins were difficult to find, and nurses often had to try several spots, leaving behind some noticeable traces. “Yeah, new treatment.” I tugged my sleeve down, lowering my gaze to the steaming pot. Asher’s mind was always so sharp. That’s what I used to love most about him. He could spot the subtle unhappiness in my childhood when classmates bullied me, and he could find hidden traps in complex business contracts. “You’d better not be messing with anything illegal.” Asher walked out of the kitchen. “After all, your parents…” “Enough.” I cut him off, my voice laced with sarcasm. “Are you going to bring up my parents in front of your mistress and her child?” I had never spoken to Asher like that before. His surprise was plastered all over his face, that handsome face I’d been obsessed with for years, shifting from shock to pure fury. He slammed the kitchen door shut and stared at me, his eyes burning. “How can you talk about Willow like that?!” “Oh? I didn’t realize I wasn’t supposed to call her that. Isn’t that what she is?” I scooped the apple pork chops onto a plate. This used to be Asher’s favorite dish. To perfectly suit his taste, I spent an entire summer cooped up in the kitchen, replacing my perfume scent with the smell of cooking oil. He used to say he didn’t like pampered rich girls, so I learned to do everything. My only moments of true indulgence were when I was with my parents. He always believed that even after marrying him, I remained willful and innocent. That’s why, before they died, my parents entrusted everything to Asher. They only asked one promise from him: never to divorce me, and to take care of me for life. And Asher kept his word. That was the most agonizing part. He wasn’t a complete monster. He had just enough decency, just that tiny bit of sincerity, to string me along year after year, day after day. Stringing me along as I watched him fly to the States again and again, watching him have a son with Willow. But we wouldn’t get a divorce. “Is that Harper cooking? It smells so good!” Willow invited herself in, breaking the tense silence between Asher and me. “I just got back with my son, Asher. I really didn’t know where else to stay, so I just followed him back to crash for a couple of days. I didn’t have your contact info, so I couldn’t tell you beforehand. So sorry about that!” Didn’t have my contact info? I remembered those scandalous photos she’d sent me and just found it amusing. I carried the plate out. Stella sat at the dining table, looking at me with a puzzled expression. “Mommy, who are this lady and this boy?” “This is… Daddy’s friend.” I wanted to use something truly vicious to describe her, but a sharp pain shot through my arm at that exact moment, like a clock chiming, jolting me awake from any illusion of happiness. Just like Willow’s uninvited presence, the pain reminded me. I only had fifteen days left.
Asher settled Willow and her son in the guest bedroom, which was very close to the master suite—the room he used to sleep in. After Stella was born, Asher and I started sleeping separately. When we first got married, I tried so hard to make him love me. We’d grown up together; I thought I knew his preferences. But day after day, I started to understand. I was just the villainess in some rich-girl-loves-the-wrong-guy novel, and Willow was his true love, his ‘white moonlight’. Nothing I did mattered. Asher said it himself. When he was drunk, he’d stare at me with bloodshot eyes and demand, “Do you really think I’ll love you just because you drove her away?” “Never. Don’t even dream of it!” I stopped dreaming. For the next seven years, I didn’t dream anymore. I just clung to that fifteen-year-old Asher, curled up, slowly living my own life. Too bad fate wasn’t on my side. I had just tucked Stella into bed when I found Willow waiting. She had dropped the humble act she put on for Asher and stood proudly in front of me. I heard she hadn’t left her career in these years and had become quite successful. She certainly exuded a sharp, professional edge that I lacked. When I was very young, I once imagined becoming someone like that. “How’s your health?” Willow asked, which made me raise an eyebrow. “Not good.” “I can tell.” A faint smile played on her lips. “You know, when Asher was making my bed earlier, he mentioned you. He said you’ve lost a lot of weight these past six months.” I was somewhat bewildered, wondering why Asher would say such a thing, and even more so why Willow was telling me this. Willow grabbed the hand with the needle marks and pressed down hard. The sharp pain snapped me back to reality. She leaned in close, almost whispering in my ear. “Your daughter… she’s too much like you. What you asked me to do, I need to think about it.” “What do you want?” “I’m not a bad person, and I have no interest in tormenting a child. The Vance family has a ridiculous amount of money; they can certainly afford one child. But, for the time you have left, you need to prove something to me.” “Prove that Asher doesn’t love you.” I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing. The laughter grew, turning into a roaring, tear-inducing fit, so loud it even drew Asher out of the guest room. He stood in the doorway, watching me from a distance. This was something that needed to be proven? And *I* had to prove it? “Alright, Ms. Sterling, I’ll prove it to you.” With that, I raised my hand and swung, delivering a resounding slap across Willow’s face. The blow was so hard and crisp that her frameless glasses fell to the floor. I used almost all my strength. After the slap, I could barely stand. Willow was clearly stunned, looking at me with disbelief. And Asher, who had been standing at the guest room doorway, instinctively lunged forward, returning the slap to me.
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