
On the fourth anniversary of my secret relationship with my brother Noah Geller, I, Bailey White, had carefully prepared a surprise and was waiting at home for his return when I received his phone call. The background was noisy, but I could still hear every word clearly. “If it weren’t for my fight with Evelyn, how could I possibly be with Bailey? “Just thinking about being with her makes me sick. How could someone be so despicable, actually liking her own brother? Absolutely shameless! “But Evelyn’s back now, and I’ll marry her right away. Even if we don’t get married, I don’t care. I can keep playing around with her since she truly loves me.” The call ended amid a burst of laughter, and I couldn’t stop trembling. So our four years together had been nothing more than the product of his momentary spite. Heartbroken, I finally agreed to marry another man. On my wedding day, I calmly addressed Evelyn James as “Mrs. Geller.” Noah, who was always composed, completely lost his composure in that moment. ***** On our fourth anniversary, I cooked a whole table of Noah’s favorite dishes at home. I kept imagining his surprised expression when he walked through the door, but I waited for a very long time. I called him over and over, but no one answered. Just when I was getting anxious, the phone rang. It was Noah calling. I excitedly answered, asking urgently, “Where are you?” However, his cold and disgusted voice came through the phone. “If it weren’t for my fight with Evelyn, how could I possibly be with Bailey? “She actually likes her own brother—how disgusting!” In that instant, I felt like I’d fallen into an ice cave. I had imagined countless possibilities for his call. Maybe he’d be sweet-talking me, or saying he was almost home, or at least explaining why he was late. But I never expected to hear those words. After he hung up, it suddenly started pouring outside. I threw away all the food and stood by the window in a daze. Noah saw me standing by the window looking lost as soon as he got out of his car. The rain outside had soaked half of my clothes, but I seemed completely unaware. He immediately ran over to close the window and draped his coat over my shoulders. He said with concern, “Why are you standing by the window? Go take a hot shower and change into dry clothes.” He skillfully prepared my bath water and laid out my pajamas. “I’ve got the hot water ready at just the right temperature. Go wash up quickly so you don’t catch cold.” After my shower, Noah naturally took the hair dryer from my hands and dried my hair. Looking at that gentle man in the mirror, I couldn’t connect him with the voice on the phone. “Do you find me disgusting?” I asked softly. His hair-drying motion paused. “Why would you ask that? What happened? Did someone say something to you? Don’t listen to their nonsense…” Seeing his anxious and caring expression, I forced a smile. “It’s nothing, I was just asking.” Noah put down the hair dryer and gently hugged me from behind. He nuzzled his head against my neck, half apologetic and half playful. “Bailey, I was wrong today. I was too busy. I’ll definitely spend quality time with you tomorrow, okay?” If this had been before, I would have softened and patted his head, saying, “I forgive you.” But now, I just gently pushed him away and said quietly, “Noah, don’t do this.” Noah chuckled softly and held me tighter. That night, he wrapped his arms around me from behind, his warm breath falling on my neck. “Bailey, I want you…” I suppressed the emotions rising in my heart and interrupted him, “I’m not feeling well today.” Noah’s restless hand paused, then he sighed. “Alright, then rest well tonight.” I quietly closed my eyes in the silence.
I had once been the sole heir of the White family, but an accident took my parents’ lives, and I became an orphan overnight, sent to an orphanage. It was Noah who took me out and brought me away from there. I was eleven then, and he was eighteen. He was also an orphan, but he gave me a home. From then on, I became Noah’s little shadow. He took me everywhere, saying I was his only family. Young as I was, I didn’t understand emotions and mistook my dependence and gratitude toward him for love. On my eighteenth birthday, emboldened by alcohol, I confessed to Noah. “Noah, I like you.” He froze for a moment and tried to push me away, but I held him tightly. Taking advantage of his surprise, I planted a kiss on his face. Noah turned his face away and said quietly, “Bailey, you’re drunk.” I clung to him. “I’m not. I just like you, Noah.” That night, he rarely lost control, pulling me into his arms and kissing me for the first time. From that day on, we secretly became a couple. He took even better care of me, handling every aspect of my life, big and small. Back then, I was intoxicated by the sweetness of love, thinking that as long as we liked each other, it could last forever. The next day, Noah surprisingly didn’t go to the office. He took me to an amusement park, watched a movie with me, and brought me to my favorite restaurant. Everything seemed so perfect—well, it would have been if not for that phone call. Halfway through dinner, Noah excused himself to the restroom. That’s when I saw the message from someone labeled “Babe”: [Noah, I’m not feeling well. Could you come keep me company?] Such a cheap trick, yet Noah fell for it completely. When he returned from the restroom, he glanced at his phone and hurriedly prepared to leave. “Bailey, something urgent came up at the office. Go ahead and finish eating, don’t wait for me. I’ll make it up to you next time, okay?” he said. Before I could even respond, Noah had already walked out of the restaurant. I looked down at the friend request that popped up on my phone and accepted it. The person using the same couple’s profile picture as me sent a message: [Like the profile pic? I picked it out.] Then came a photo—two people kissing in what looked like a nightclub setting. Though I couldn’t see the face clearly, I recognized Noah instantly. The bracelet on his wrist was one I had personally braided and put on him. I’d never seen him take it off. Yet here he was, holding another woman. Tears splattered onto my phone screen as I stared at that photo in shock, the last shred of hope in my heart completely shattered. I wiped the tears from my eyes and dialed a number I’d never called before. “Ivan Stewart, I agree to marry you.” There was a long silence on the other end before he responded excitedly, “Really?” I nodded. “Really.” Ivan was the heir to the Stewart family fortune and had been my classmate from elementary school through college. I knew he’d always liked me, which was why he’d specifically asked his father, Jared Stewart, to propose an arranged marriage between us. At the time, I was completely devoted to Noah, so I firmly refused. But Ivan didn’t give up. Instead, he chose to wait patiently. He once told me, “Bailey, I know you don’t like me, but I can wait—wait for you to turn around, wait for you to like me. If you ever change your mind, I promise to marry you with all the grandeur you deserve.” I always thought I’d never agree to marry Ivan, but reality hit me like a freight train. After hanging up, I took a cab back to the villa alone.
During the ride, I couldn’t help but check Evelyn’s social media. The moment I saw her profile, I felt like I’d fallen into an ice-cold abyss. I used to think everything I had was because Noah loved me. But reality slapped me hard across the face. Evelyn’s social media was filled with photos of various gifts Noah had given her. Some she kept, while others she didn’t want—and those unwanted gifts had somehow ended up with me. In that moment, I felt nothing but bitter irony. The things I had treasured were actually someone else’s leftovers, things she couldn’t be bothered with. Through Evelyn’s posts, I pieced together their entire love story. She and Noah had fallen in love at first sight, quickly becoming inseparable. Noah would pause important meetings for her, and when she said she “wanted something,” he’d spend millions at auctions to buy priceless collectibles for her. When she was sick, he’d cancel everything to stay by her side, personally cooking for her. Their love was like something out of a movie—the domineering CEO and his precious little wife. And me? I guess I was the evil supporting character. Every time Noah went to take care of her, he’d lie to me about working overtime at the office. Ridiculously, I believed him every single time. I’d even feel sorry for him working so hard and would rack my brains to make him delicious meals. And all of that food ended up in Evelyn’s stomach. She bragged on social media that it was made by Noah’s house cook. [Noah’s house cook makes pretty good food, though I prefer it spicy.] Reading this, I suddenly understood why Noah’s taste had changed. Someone who used to hate spicy food had suddenly developed a taste for it. When I asked him about it, he said, “Because you like spicy food, I want to feel closer to you, so I thought I’d try to appreciate spicy flavors too.” I was so moved by those words at the time, thinking Noah truly cared about me. After all, he was willing to change for me. It was all lies! All that talk about wanting to understand me—complete bullsh*t! He used my love for him as an excuse to trample all over my feelings! He used the food I made to please another woman! I was shaking with rage and couldn’t help but send Evelyn a message: [Do you know who actually makes Noah’s food?] She replied instantly: [Of course I know. What other housekeeper would make love-filled lunch boxes for her employer? But since Noah calls you the housekeeper, I naturally won’t blow his cover.] I was trembling with fury. So in Noah’s eyes, I was nothing more than a free housekeeper. How utterly ridiculous!
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