I made up my mind to say “yes” to my father, Edward Vale, to leave my husband Julian Carter and our son Adrian. I would return to the past, becoming his little girl again, just like before. It all began after that surgery. Somehow, I could hear my family’s true thoughts. Julian’s voice echoed in my mind: “Such a minor issue, yet she stayed in the hospital for so long. Now she’s back, lounging around all day, doing nothing. Doesn’t she see my suit is still wrinkled?” Adrian’s thoughts hurt me even more: “That surgery cost a fortune, and here she is drinking my favorite yogurt. Why can’t she be a strong woman like Ms. Vale instead of just hanging around the house?” Then there was my husband’s mother, Doris Carter, her inner thoughts filled with resentment: “She just had to come back while I was making soup. Later I’ll rinse the pot with dishwater and claim I accidentally added too much broth.” My heart felt heavy and cold. I turned around, closed the bedroom door, and dialed Edward’s number. “Just me,” I said, “I won’t bring anyone else.” ***** By the next evening, Julian, Doris, and Adrian trudged home, looking as if they’d rather be anywhere else. The front door creaked open, and Miranda Vale’s sugary voice came through Julian’s phone, growing louder as he entered the house. “Sorry, Clara,” she cooed, “yesterday was my birthday, and I had no idea Julian skipped picking you up from the hospital to celebrate with me.” She paused before adding, “Don’t worry, I’ve already scolded him severely.” Her words sounded like a reprimand, but the mockery in her tone practically dripped from the speaker. I stared at Julian, my lips parting to speak when Adrian’s thoughts crashed into my mind. “Ms. Vale is so kind, unlike Mom, who’s always nagging me about homework like a drill sergeant. Why can’t Ms. Vale be my mother?” Adrian leaned against the doorframe, his brows furrowed. I looked at this boy I had carried for nine months, and my heart shattered, filled with bitterness. Before I could react, Julian plopped down beside me on the bed, his voice sweet as honey and full of concern. “You should rest,” he said, “a grown woman like you, not taking proper care of yourself.” He leaned closer, his gaze soft, “I’d be really upset if you got sick again.” His tone was as warm and caring as always. If I couldn’t hear his true thoughts, I might have fallen for his sweet talk again, tumbling into his gentle trap. I heard him thinking: “God, look at her dramatic face. Is she about to throw a fit? I need to find a way to keep her from getting angry. If she gets upset and mentions that she owned this house before we got married, Adrian will stop thinking I provided it.” A laugh bubbled up inside me, but I couldn’t express it—only a hollow ache remained. Many years ago, I fell madly in love with Julian. I was infatuated with him, a man without a penny to his name, and I did everything to be with him. I cut ties with my parents, ran away from home, and had Adrian before we were even married. For ten years, I worked while managing the household—cooking, cleaning, taking care of everyone. But after being forced to rest following my breast surgery, I saw their true colors—a pack of ungrateful wolves. I yanked the blanket from under Julian, my face tight with anger. On the phone, Miranda’s voice turned whiny, as if she were the wronged party. “Julian, is Clara mad at me? She’s not saying anything. Talk to her for me, please!” Doris finally shuffled in, sensing the tension in the air and quickly interjecting to smooth things over. “Miranda, don’t mind her,” she said with a dismissive wave, “Clara’s just a housewife, not really suited for the spotlight. Unlike you, young and dominating the business world.” She turned to me with a fake concerned smile, “Clara, if you’re not feeling well, go rest. We’re heading out to help Miranda pick furniture for her new home.” Then her thoughts slipped into my mind. “Hmph, what a waste. Making such a fuss over a small lump, spending tens of thousands on surgery. Thankfully, my son has a good relationship with that female boss, ensuring his promotion and raise. Otherwise, we’d be dragged down by this woman forever, never able to improve our situation.” I looked at them—my so-called family—with their masks of hypocritical kindness, my gaze cold as ice.
I stood up, my voice steady yet sharp, “Julian, since you and your family are so busy, just sign the divorce agreement on the dresser. I won’t bother you anymore.” My words exploded like thunder, leaving everyone in the room dumbfounded. Julian was the first to recover, his expression twisting with disbelief, “Clara, enough. You’re threatening me with divorce just because I didn’t pick you up from the hospital? You want me to apologize that badly?” “Miranda already explained what happened yesterday,” he continued, his tone tinged with annoyance, “I was swamped with work, with a pile of things to handle at the office. Now that you’re home, just focus on getting better instead of creating problems out of nothing.” Before I could respond, Adrian’s excitement was almost palpable in the air. His eyes locked onto Julian, gleaming with anticipation. His thoughts screamed in my mind, “Dad, sign it! Sign it quick! I can’t stand this old woman for another day! If you divorce her and marry Ms. Vale, I’ll get the coolest gaming setup!” Julian, completely oblivious to his son’s internal celebration, continued muttering to himself. I clearly heard his thoughts, “She’s crazy about me. There’s no way she’d ever leave. This divorce talk is just her throwing a tantrum. She’ll cool down in three days.” Miranda’s voice came through Julian’s phone, which he’d been clutching since he walked in, breaking the silence, “Clara, please don’t misunderstand,” she said with fake sincerity, her tone full of artificial earnestness, “There’s nothing between Julian and me. I don’t want to cause any problems between you two.” I ignored her. “Julian, I’m not making a scene,” I said calmly, “I’m simply informing you.” I’d had enough. Enough of serving these ungrateful vampires. Julian had walked halfway to the door when he froze, seeing the cold expression on my face. He turned around, his voice softening, “Clara, it’s just hospital discharge. You made it home safely, didn’t you? Don’t blow this out of proportion. Miranda specifically called to clarify the situation, so stop being so stubborn.” He sighed, as if explaining to a child, “You used to be so understanding, so easygoing. Why have you become so dramatic since your surgery? Stay home and calm down. Don’t do something you’ll regret.” I didn’t bother answering, just pulled the blanket over my head and turned away. That night, I didn’t sleep. Julian and the others didn’t come back either. Since I’d decided to leave, I started packing my things, preparing to move to the new villa my father Edward had bought for me—a perfect place to recover. Ever since I could hear their thoughts, I knew I would return to Edward. This villa was his homecoming gift to me. Many years ago, I gave up my pampered life as a wealthy daughter to elope with Julian. My parents, Edward and Evelyn, were furious but helpless. Worried I might struggle, they gave me the house we currently live in as pre-marital property. But to protect Julian’s fragile ego, I never corrected his lie about being the homeowner. Because of this, Doris never missed a chance to mock me, and even Adrian looked down on me. For ten years, Edward had been begging me to come home and take over the family business. I couldn’t bear to leave Julian and Adrian, so I always refused. But now, with them all chasing after Miranda’s skirt, I had no reason to stay. I went to a law firm under Edward’s company to handle some documents. Later, as I got into a taxi, my phone rang—it was the moving company. “Ms. Sinclair, could you come to the delivery address?” the driver sounded panicked, “Is there a mistake with the address?” In the background, I faintly heard shouting. I asked the taxi driver to speed toward the villa. When I arrived at the house, my jaw dropped in shock.
The yard of the new villa Edward bought for me had been chaotically transformed, with clothes hanging on what was supposed to be a masculine energy platform. Meanwhile Miranda, Julian’s supposed superior, was standing at the doorway in her pajamas, hands on her hips, blocking Joe the moving man from entering. “Ms. Sinclair, are you sure this is the right address?” Joe asked awkwardly, as if he’d never encountered such a situation before. I recalled what Julian and Doris had mentioned about Miranda needing to buy furniture for her new house. I had assumed Miranda had simply purchased a new home that needed furnishing, but I never imagined her “new house” was actually the villa Edward had given me. I also remembered Edward mentioning on the phone that he had financially supported a female student. Looking at Miranda, I began to understand what was happening. Apparently, this so-called female CEO Miranda that Julian spoke of was merely impersonating me behind my back, occupying my house to show off. Julian, Adrian, and Doris had all been fooled by Miranda, believing she was genuinely wealthy. Just as I was about to expose Miranda’s true identity, she spoke first, “Ms. Sinclair, this house was bought by my father for me. What are you doing here?” “This is a high-end villa community. If you damage anything, you won’t be able to afford the repairs. I remember your family is practically non-existent, unlike me—my parents would pluck the moon from the sky for me if they could.” She lazily played with her hair, her face unable to hide her smugness. I couldn’t be bothered to argue with her. I took out the property deed and said calmly, “This is my villa. Please leave immediately.” As soon as I finished speaking, Adrian peeked out from behind Miranda, holding the latest gaming console in his hands. He said to me, “Mom, I’m not kidding, there’s a limit to pretending. If you could really afford this mansion, would I not even be able to buy a gaming console? Did they give you too much anesthesia during surgery? Is your brain foggy?” Then Doris came out to back them up, “Clara, that’s enough. Don’t embarrass yourself in public.” Miranda laughed at the scene, “Your villa? That’s hilarious. No offense, but with your $4,000 monthly salary, you couldn’t afford this house even if you worked your entire life! Besides, you don’t even have that $4,000 job anymore.” She turned to Marcus, the security guard who had hurried over, and demanded, “Is this how you guard the entrance? Letting just anyone in? Can you afford to replace anything if it gets stolen?” Marcus quickly apologized with a forced smile, then turned to glare at me, threatening, “How did you get in here? You have three minutes to leave, or I’m calling the police.” The moving truck was blocking the entrance, and a crowd of onlookers had gathered around us. Someone commented, “What’s going on? Isn’t this villa a gift from Mr. Vale to Ms. Vale? How is there suddenly another owner?” Another person said, “Could she be some kind of lunatic? Look at her plain clothes—she doesn’t look like someone who could be connected to the Vale family.” Someone else speculated, “An illegitimate daughter?” “Don’t talk nonsense! Mr. Vale adores his wife to death. How could he possibly have an illegitimate daughter?” Everyone was chattering away. Miranda, listening to these words of praise about her, had her chin practically pointing to the sky with pride. Suddenly, Julian pushed his way through the crowd. Julian, who normally wore impeccable suits and was a neat freak, was dressed in worn-out work clothes today, holding cleaning supplies, looking like he was about to help Miranda with the initial cleaning. My heart sank. Since I’d been with Julian, even when I was in postpartum recovery, he had never helped with housework. He didn’t even know how to use the mop at home. “Miranda, it’s dirty here. You should go inside. You have allergic rhinitis; you shouldn’t breathe in dust,” Julian said. “Exactly! Ms. Vale, my dad and grandma are here to help. You should go back and get your beauty sleep instead of worrying about people who don’t matter,” Adrian chimed in. Doris immediately rolled up her sleeves, ready to start working. Father and son, Julian and Adrian, talked back and forth as if I wasn’t even there. I had served them for so many years, and they never offered to help. When my rhinitis first flared up, I asked Doris to sweep under the bed, but Julian scolded me for acting like a princess, saying I didn’t have the fortune for such airs but had all the ailments of the wealthy. “Can’t you just wear a couple of masks for your rhinitis? Do all the people with allergies in the world stop cleaning and living their lives?” Julian had said at the time. Back then, I felt guilty for not adapting to his lifestyle quickly enough, and even felt sorry about it. Only now did I realize that Julian wasn’t unaware that rhinitis caused discomfort—my discomfort simply didn’t matter to him. The way his family eagerly tried to please Miranda greatly delighted her. She changed her previously sharp and bitter attitude, frowning and covering her nose, putting on a pitiful act: “Julian, it’s not that I don’t want to go inside, but Ms. Sinclair is here, and I can’t neglect my duties as a host, can I?” At that moment, Julian finally noticed me as he followed Miranda’s gaze. He clicked his tongue and said, “Having regrets? If you’re regretting it, why don’t you hurry up, take the supplies, and start cleaning? You’re a grown woman with no common sense!” Seeing that Julian seemed to know me, Marcus quickly tried to curry favor, afraid of being held responsible: “Mr. Carter, is this the cleaning lady you hired for Ms. Vale?” Julian looked at me with contempt and didn’t contradict him. Seeing Julian’s attitude, Miranda was greatly encouraged. She said, “Yes! This is the cleaning lady we hired, one hundred dollars an hour. If anyone needs her services, you can hire her too! Did I get the price right, Julian?” Julian gave me a look, silently approving Miranda’s statement. He kicked the bucket and mop at my feet and said, “Why aren’t you getting to work?” By now, the onlookers understood the situation. Some said, “Ms. Vale is so fortunate to have a father who dotes on her and a boyfriend who loves her. It’s truly enviable.” Others agreed: “Absolutely! Girls like Ms. Vale deserve to be pampered!” I stared at Julian expressionlessly, as if trying to see through him. Just then, I heard his thoughts: “It’s just cleaning. She won’t mind. If she really wanted a divorce, she would have left already. She just can’t leave me.” Adrian and Doris’s thoughts also reached my ears. Adrian thought: “I’m so embarrassed! I’ll never admit she’s my mom!” Doris thought: “Divorce? What a joke! If you’ve got the guts, don’t regret following us here. What waves can a housewife possibly make!” I struggled to control my anger, my gaze locked on Julian’s face. Seeing me standing there in a daze, Julian seemed to get angry and said, “Clara! Are you deaf? Is it so hard for you to do something when asked?” Seeing his self-righteous attitude, I finally snapped. I grabbed the nearby mop and struck Julian hard, yelling as I hit him: “Who does she think she is, ordering me around? She’s nothing but a homewrecker who stole my husband!” Miranda, seeing Julian being hit, immediately shielded him behind her and slapped me across the face. She then looked me up and down with contempt and said, “Look at yourself in the mirror. Calling you a cleaning lady is a compliment. If I really wanted to steal your husband, you wouldn’t even be in the picture.” I held my burning left cheek, hatred surging to my head. Adrian and Doris’s thoughts echoed in my ears again. Adrian thought: “Good! My mom deserves to be hit! How dare she talk about divorce! She needs to be taught a lesson!” Doris thought: “She wants to leave but can’t bear to. She’s useless herself but blames others for stealing her husband! Worthless.” Fearing I might fight back and hurt Miranda, Julian, Adrian, and Doris held me down tightly, allowing Miranda to punch and kick me. Tears streamed down my face as I screamed hysterically. In my moment of despair, a familiar figure appeared at the door. Adrian and I shouted simultaneously: “Dad!” To my surprise, Miranda also called out, “Daddy!” She quickly sobbed: “Daddy, this woman hit me! She’s claiming this house is hers. You have to help me!” Edward, seeing me beaten beyond recognition, slapped Miranda to the ground, then lovingly took me in his arms and roared: “THIS is my daughter!”
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