I was 29 when I helped my boyfriend build a multi-million dollar fortune after seven years of loving him. He lived with me in a cramped, beat-up apartment and drove a secondhand car, all while whispering sweet nothings in my ear, “Violet, darling, when I make it big, everything I have will be yours.” When he knelt and slid a lavish diamond ring onto my finger, proposing to me, I thought my struggles were finally over. But during a waterfront fireworks display, our boat capsized. He was swept away by the raging water, supposedly trying to save me. For seventeen years, my days blurred into a haze of tears. My health declined rapidly, and the doctors eventually told me it was late-stage cancer. In despair, on my deathbed, I swallowed the ring, just wanting it all to end. Then, by a cruel twist of fate, I saw a news report flashing on the hospital’s big screen. Asher, the son of a tech billionaire, had miraculously survived after accidentally swallowing a diamond ring. Good for him. Not only was he alive, but he was also living the good life. My eyes fixated on the ring, its serial number identical to the one Asher had given me. My pupils dilated weakly, the realization hitting me like a physical blow. I died without ever understanding what had gone wrong. In my last breath, I swore a silent vow: If I ever get a second chance at life, I’ll make him pay back everything he owes me, with interest. **01** “Hey, beautiful, what are you spacing out about?” Asher’s voice jolted me back to reality. He wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, his breath warm on my ear. “It’s your birthday today. I have a surprise for you.” His words, eerily similar to what he’d said in my past life, made me realize: I’d been reborn. I was back three months before he proposed. In my previous life, I met him when I was 22. I spent seven years by his side, silently helping him build his empire from scratch. By the time I was 29, his assets were worth millions. But he never told me about his success. We continued to live simply, just as before. To protect his ego, his pride, I pretended not to know. And I never once mentioned that all his success was thanks to me. “Violet, do you remember? This is the seventh birthday I’ve celebrated with you.” A complex, unbearable wave of emotion washed over me. I had to admit, he was a thoughtful and attentive man. For seven years, he had never missed my birthday. “But…” His tone suddenly shifted. “Let’s keep things simple tonight, okay? I’m still in the early stages of my business, and I have an important client meeting. We can celebrate at home after I close this deal.” Startup phase? Shouldn’t he be a successful businessman by now? My heart clenched. In my past life, I was so blinded by love, so convinced of my place in his heart, that I was completely oblivious to his pathetic lies. It was why he faked his death, secretly enjoying a luxurious life abroad with another woman, while I was left completely in the dark. Recalling it all, a wave of profound sorrow washed over me. I forced a calm smile. “Okay, honey. Come back soon.” On the surface, I agreed sweetly, but deep down, I’d already decided to follow him. Sure enough, he didn’t go to the office. He headed straight to a karaoke bar. From inside the private room, I heard a woman’s sweet, whiny voice. “Asher, aren’t you afraid your jealous girlfriend will come looking for you if you meet me here?” The voice sounded so familiar. I peeked through the crack in the door. One glance, and the world spun. My head buzzed. He wasn’t meeting a client. He was on a secret rendezvous with Serena, his first love, the one that got away. I remembered then. He had mentioned Serena was back in town, complaining to him about a rough breakup. But I hadn’t paid any attention. I hadn’t stopped him. Instead, I’d been so “generous,” telling him to spend more time with his “white moonlight.” I never thought I’d be letting a wolf into the fold. They embraced, like two people on fire. Asher narrowed his eyes, soothing her. “Her? She’s so petty. Let her be jealous.” But Serena seemed unsatisfied. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pouting. “When are you going to do what you promised me?” “Soon, soon,” Asher mumbled, then pounced on her again like a hungry wolf. My heart turned to ice. Their conversation continued inside: “Thank you, Asher, for such an expensive birthday gift. I’m so incredibly happy!” My heart bled as she waved a conspicuous deed to a house. Asher’s voice sounded almost casual. “Darling, it’s just a house. What else do you want? Asher will give you anything.” Then, they started making out again. The woman’s moans became increasingly grating. “Asher, you’re so naughty.” As she spoke, her eyes seemed to glance intentionally, almost casually, towards the door. I couldn’t stand it anymore. My vision was already blurred by tears. I don’t remember how I got back to our place. Looking at this small, less-than-500-square-foot apartment, the secondhand home we’d shared for seven years, my tears streamed down, unstoppable. Seven framed photos hung on the wall, a testament to our seven-year love story. Every year on my birthday, he would suggest we go to a photo studio. He’d say, even though he couldn’t take me to all the beautiful places in the world yet, we could take photos with different famous landmarks as backdrops. One day, when we collected enough, we’d exchange them for real wedding photos. I didn’t know when “enough” would be, but I was such a hopeless romantic, I was completely enchanted by his grand promise. I reached out, caressing the photos, as if saying goodbye to our seven years of love. **02** It wasn’t until late, when the city was quiet, that Asher finally dragged his tired body home. At first, a flicker of panic crossed his eyes. But seeing my calm expression, he secretly let out a sigh of relief. He looked at me with a touch of apology. “Violet, don’t be mad I couldn’t come back earlier. That client today was just so difficult. If it weren’t for our little family, I would’ve walked away from his business ages ago.” As he spoke, he reached for my hand, like he always did. Remembering his hand had just been all over another woman, I instinctively recoiled, pulling my hand back. Fearing he’d notice, I quickly changed the subject. “Honey, didn’t you say you’d come back to celebrate my birthday? I’m starving! What delicious treats did you bring me?” My distraction worked. “Right, right! What was I thinking? I almost forgot if you hadn’t mentioned it!” “I deserve a slap, I deserve a slap.” He made a show of raising his hand to slap himself. As his big hand was about to connect with his face, I instinctively grabbed it. “No!” He grinned, pleased. Seizing the opportunity, he pulled me into his arms, whispering in my ear, “Darling, I knew you loved me.” Then his lips, as fervent and demanding as ever, covered mine. I tried to pull away, but he held me tighter. He kissed me with the same intense, possessive ardor. Only when I slowly quieted did he release me, satisfied. He pulled a set of car keys from his pocket. “Baby, wait here. Your gift is in the car. I’ll go get it right now.” He stood up and walked to the door. Just then, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen, and his expression tightened, if only for a fleeting second. But it didn’t escape my notice. A woman’s sweet voice drifted from the speaker. “Asher…” He quickly turned his back to me, answering the call. In that moment, a mix of emotions churned inside me. When did our love turn into this? Was seven years of love truly as fragile as a piece of paper, so easily torn apart? I didn’t have the patience to wait for him to finish his long phone call. I snatched the keys from his hand and walked straight downstairs. His beat-up car, the one he’d driven for five years, sat there. He used to tell me, more than once, with such conviction, “If I can cherish a used car for so long, imagine how much more I’ll cherish my wife, the woman I spend my life with.” Back then, those words thrilled me so much that I found him a business deal that instantly brought him in three million dollars. For seven years, I kept pouring my efforts into his empty promises. Now, I saw that every sweet word he uttered was a sharp blade, leaving me utterly shattered. I opened the car door. A beautifully wrapped gift bag and a small birthday cake sat neatly on the passenger seat. Seeing them, my mood brightened slightly. The gift wasn’t grand, but it offered a small comfort to my heart. My parents, who’d been working abroad since I was born, had never given me a proper birthday celebration. Their only way of celebrating was to call or text, then wire money to my exclusive account. They thought this was their way of making up for it, their way of showing love. But they didn’t know I never touched any of that money, barely even looked at it. The first time I ever had birthday cake, in my memory, was when a senior from college shared some with me. **03** Seeing me return with the items, Asher quickly put down his phone and started doting on me. He eagerly set them on our small table. One of his big hands wrapped around me tightly, his lips exhaling warm breath near my ear: “Come on, baby, it’s time to witness our love. Open it! See if you like the gift I bought.” His intimate words created a few seconds of illusion, making me feel like we were back in the honeymoon phase. I obediently followed, carefully tearing open the wrapping. The moment it was open, my eyes lit up. Yes, it was the bra I’d wanted for ages. The color was my favorite rose pink, the style, my preferred lace. But— My eyes dropped to the tag, and my heart sank. “So, do you like it?” Asher leaned in, about to kiss my cheek. My brows furrowed, my expression tightened. I pushed him away with force. He looked at me, confused, disbelief in his eyes. “What? What’s wrong? You don’t like it? I distinctly remember you always loved this brand.” I ignored him, my face growing darker. He scratched his head, muttering to himself, “Women’s hearts, kids’ faces. No wonder they say women are fickle.” He tried to tease me into reacting, but my face remained as cold as frost. He had no choice but to point to the small cake on the table, trying to appease me again. “Okay, baby, my bad. If you don’t like it, I’ll return it tomorrow and buy you something else. It’s getting late, let’s blow out the candles and eat the cake.” His words reminded me. Yes, I needed to go to bed early. I had important things to do tomorrow. I forced down my emotions. Gently pulling open the ribbon on the cake box, a vivid rose-shaped cake came into view. “How about it? Do you like it?” He carefully searched my eyes for a reaction. “Mm-hm.” I managed a strained upward curl of my lips. He finally let out a sigh of relief. But as he placed the number 32 candles on the cake, my eyes felt like they were being pierced. 32, 32, why 32? 29 was my number. Asher didn’t seem to notice anything was off with me. He happily handed me a plate. Looking at his familiar yet strangely unfamiliar face, a jarring detail from my memory resurfaced. Serena, his first love, his college classmate. They were the same age. This year, they both turned 32. My outstretched hand trembled. The brutal truth sent my mood plummeting. I struggled to keep my composure, shaking my head. “I suddenly don’t feel like eating. It’s too late, and sweets will make me gain weight. You should eat it yourself.” Without waiting for him to speak, under his disapproving gaze, I decisively stood up, forcing my weakened body toward the bedroom. I knew. It was time for all of this to end. Only three months left. Time was running out. Since fate had given me a second chance, this time, I would take control of my destiny. I wouldn’t live so foolishly again. Remembering a message Leo had sent me recently, I drafted an email to him. And I sent a text to my mom: “Mom, I’ve changed my mind. Wait for me. I’m ready to accept your arrangements.” After doing all that, I slowly lay down. The moment I did, my stubborn tears immediately streamed down my face like spilled pearls. Salty tears repeatedly flowed into the corners of my mouth. They dragged my thoughts back to seven years ago, the day Asher and I first met. I remembered that day, the sky was dull and gray, just like my mood. I had just finished my college graduation ceremony, feeling utterly alone and melancholic. I saw other students surrounded by their families, showered with flowers and gifts. I had nothing. Just me, by myself, feeling incredibly lost. **04** I kept re-reading the congratulatory texts from my parents on my phone, only able to force a bitter smile. Perhaps in their eyes, money mattered more than I did. I pessimistically believed I was just an orphan, no different from the stray cats wandering around campus. I was even worse than those cats. They had people feeding them, playing with them. But me, I always lived in my own world. Even though this solitude allowed me to pour all my energy into studying, eventually pushing myself to become an academic prodigy. But none of that was what I truly wanted. My mood was so low back then that I accidentally bumped right into Asher. He later recounted that he had been in a terrible mood that day too. After our unexpected collision, he felt it was fate. He invited me to a small bar for a drink. To my surprise, I actually went. After a few drinks, we poured our hearts out to each other. That’s when I learned he had just broken up with someone. Serena, his first love, had gone to study abroad and cut off all contact with him, blocking him everywhere. He was heartbroken. We were like two oases in a desert, comforting each other, our conversation flowing effortlessly. We exchanged numbers, and soon, sparks began to fly between us. Later, he often asked me out for dinner and drinks. A few months after that, I moved into his rental apartment. And stayed for seven years. Just as I was thinking, Asher’s footsteps broke my reverie. I quickly wiped away my tears and turned over, showing him only my back. He seemed to realize I wasn’t interested. He tossed his phone onto the bed and went into the bathroom to shower. My eyes had barely been closed for three seconds when his SnapChat buzzed with a new message. I sighed softly, turning over again. But the other party seemed persistent. His SnapChat buzzed four more times, consecutively. Left with no choice, I reached out to silence it. However, the moment the SnapChat interface opened, I saw a short video sent by Serena, his ‘white moonlight.’ It was her, whimpering and being cutesy to Asher. It turned out, she had her birthday on the same day as me. And Asher had prepared the exact same birthday gift for her. He was just too careless, he’d mixed up our gifts. The bra she received was my size, and the birthday cake had my age on it too. “Violet! What are you doing?” I didn’t know when Asher had come out, but he was standing behind me, shouting. He had changed. He really had. For so many years, he had always gently called me by my nickname, “Violet.” He had never yelled or called me by my full name like that. I bit down hard on my lip. Before I could even explain, he started accusing me in an even louder voice. “See? Serena was right. You’re just a jealous woman.” “Tell me, how long have you been snooping through my phone? I can’t believe you’ve become this kind of person!” Faced with a barrage of baseless accusations, I was speechless. I just felt a profound sadness for myself. Just then, his SnapChat buzzed again. I wanted to hand him his phone, but he suddenly slapped my face. Immediately, five bright red fingerprints appeared on my cheek, and blood gushed from my nose. Perhaps his own action shocked him too. In all the years I’d known him, he’d never even raised his voice at me, let alone laid a finger on me. After he hit me, he regretted it instantly. He knelt down, apologizing profusely. He even grabbed my wrist, trying to kiss the back of my hand. I fiercely pulled my hand away, pushing him. This time, I didn’t hesitate. **05** Leo, my senior from college, quickly replied to my email, asking to meet at the hospital. “Violet, are you truly sure about this?”
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