Author: Momo Chan

After I confessed my love to Arthur, a family friend I had grown up calling “Uncle,” he brought a girl in a wheelchair to meet me. Her name was Evelyn, and she was his future partner. Arthur said Evelyn lost her legs and her dreams to save him, and he had to take responsibility for her. I didn’t understand. Does someone saving your life mean you have to dedicate your life to them in return? He didn’t answer my question. In my past life, I refused to believe Arthur didn’t love me, constantly testing his bottom line. Until the day he watched his rivals snap my ten fingers one by one, listening to my agonizing screams, without so much as furrowing a brow. My heart died that day. Later, because the damage to my hands was too severe, I could never stand at an operating table again. Ultimately, consumed by depression, I slit my wrists and killed myself. When I woke up again. Without a moment’s hesitation, I submitted my application to Doctors Without Borders. I stepped back into my place as a mere “niece.” 01 When my application was approved, I finally let out a sigh of relief. My fingertips wouldn’t stop trembling, and my eyes grew red without me even realizing it. No one knew I had been reborn. I was twenty-one again. A split second before I was about to confess my love to Arthur. That day, I was wearing a custom-made gown he had spent a fortune on, and I had rented out the most luxurious hotel in New York. I invited many friends to witness the beginning of our love story. Arthur had been by my side since I could remember. My parents were Doctors Without Borders, constantly traveling. I rarely saw them throughout the year. Almost the entire first half of my life was spent with Arthur. The happy moments, the sad moments. Everyone in our circle assumed I was basically raised to be his wife. In my past life, a few close friends who knew I was going to confess gave me a lot of ideas, making me blush furiously. I secretly looked forward to it in my heart. But no one expected Arthur to reject me. Just like he did in my past life. Arthur seemed to have guessed what I was going to do. His brow furrowed slightly, he rubbed two fingers together, clearly formulating his rejection. His eyes were unreadable. At the time, I thought Arthur was just worried I was too young to distinguish between familial affection and romantic love. So I smiled and said, “Arthur, I like you. It means my heart beats faster involuntarily when I see you.” “It means I miss you crazily when I can’t see you, an emotion I can’t suppress no matter what.” “I’m very sure what I feel for you is love.” The bystanders cheered, but it ultimately ended in a messy anti-climax. And today, I was still smiling, but the smile didn’t reach my eyes. Just as he was about to speak, I beat him to it: “Arthur, I successfully concluded a year-long research project last week.” “I’m so happy, so I wanted to celebrate.” Arthur stood frozen in shock. My friends exchanged glances, about to speak up. I cast a faint glance over them. They gave awkward smiles and silently hid the “Say Yes, Say Yes” banner they were holding behind their backs. A confession ended before it began. After the party dispersed, Arthur and his friends were smoking in the hallway. He leaned against the wall, his long, elegant fingers playing with a gold-embossed lighter. The flame flickered. His friend teased with a laugh, “With that setup today, I thought Chloe was going to confess to you.” “Didn’t expect it to be a fake-out.” Arthur closed his eyes slightly, a faint smile on his lips. “She’s just a little girl, don’t overthink her intentions.” “I don’t have any other feelings for Chloe. I only take care of her because of my ties with her family.” His friend didn’t buy it. “You’re just blind to what’s right in front of you. Look at the way your girl looks at you. You think we’re stupid?” “If you’re really so innocent, why did you go warn off that boy who confessed to her back then?” “Acting exactly like a boyfriend.” Arthur fell silent. I didn’t listen any further, retreating into the darkness. In my past life, Arthur was exactly like this. His kindness towards me had long crossed the line, yet he stubbornly refused to admit it. After returning home. I submitted my application to Doctors Without Borders. After my parents died one after another in war zones, I wanted to inherit their legacy. But in my past life, before it could even begin, it was already over. Fortunately. God took pity on me and gave me a chance to start over. 02 I looked at the report date, then glanced at the calendar next to it. I took a pen and silently marked the date. Coincidentally, that day was Arthur’s birthday. Suddenly, there was a knock on my bedroom door. It was Arthur. He had a habit of knocking twice before entering, but this time, there was a girl following behind him. The girl sat in a wheelchair, wearing a white dress. There wasn’t a trace of color on her face, and her eyes carried a faint melancholy. She looked incredibly frail. “Chloe, come here,” he said to me. I didn’t move, just glanced at the girl. She was Evelyn. I had assumed that without my confession, Arthur wouldn’t bring her in front of me. I didn’t expect that what was meant to happen would happen anyway. “Chloe.” Arthur frowned, calling my name again. Seeing my detached expression, Evelyn lowered her eyes and said softly, “Arthur, it’s okay. It’s perfectly normal for Ms. Davis to not like me upon our first meeting.” “If she minds my presence, I can just go back to the suburban villa. I don’t have legs, I can’t go anywhere anyway. Anywhere is fine.” “I don’t have to stay here.” As she spoke, tears welled in her eyes, but she stubbornly refused to let them fall. She looked exactly like a delicate little flower, pretending to be strong. Arthur’s frown deepened, and his gaze towards me carried a hint of disappointment. “Chloe—” “Arthur, you can arrange for whoever you want to live in the villa. There’s really no need to tell me.” “You’re the master of this house.” My voice was flat, revealing absolutely nothing. But falling on Arthur’s ears, it was full of thorns. He thought I was throwing a tantrum. “Chloe, there’s no need to use that tone with me.” “I brought Evelyn to meet you today so you could meet your future aunt.” “Three years ago, she lost her legs to save me in an earthquake. I need to take responsibility for her. If you want to continue living properly in this house…” “…Put away your spoiled princess temper, and don’t make trouble for Evelyn.” He swept a warning glare over me. I wanted to speak, but ultimately remained silent. Actually, I couldn’t blame him. I used to be extremely possessive of Arthur. Growing up, I wanted his eyes only on me, and for me to be his only female companion. Because of that, he hadn’t had a single romantic scandal over the years. Even if a woman dared to try and get close to him, I would deal with her. All his favoritism and exceptions were for me. So in my past life, when he decided to marry Evelyn, I broke down. Does saving a life mean you have to dedicate your life in return? I thought about it for a very, very long time. It cost me my life. I still couldn’t figure it out. But now I did. Some things just don’t make sense. 03 Evelyn was going to stay. In the room next to Arthur’s, which used to be mine. Back when Arthur moved me in, he secretly sought advice from his friends, then personally drew up the blueprints to completely renovate the room. He turned it into a beautiful pink princess room. He even bought many limited-edition dolls and placed them by my bed. He raised me like a princess. Since childhood. He always said, “As long as it’s something Chloe likes, something that makes Chloe happy, I will do it.” “I hope our Chloe grows up healthy and becomes a happy little princess.” Back then, his eyes were full of tender, lingering affection. Making me fall for him. Yet from the very beginning to the end, he kept himself detached. In the room, Arthur leaned against the doorframe. After shooting me a cold glance, he said: “I had Martha prepare the guest room on the first floor. You’ll stay there for the time being.” I didn’t say anything, just folded all my clothes into my suitcase. As I stood up and instinctively reached for the dolls by the bed… My hand paused. Arthur’s gaze had followed mine to the dolls. Seeing I hadn’t moved for a long time, he said: “I’ll bring the dolls down for you later.” I took a deep breath, looked away, and forced a smile: “No need, give them to her.” I didn’t even want Arthur anymore. What did a few dolls matter? In the past, it was genuine. Now, it meant nothing. “Chloe, are you still mad at me?” Arthur asked coldly. “Why would I be mad at you?” I retorted. “You have your own life too. Now you have someone you like, someone you want to protect. I should be happy for you, shouldn’t I?” Arthur’s eyes darkened. His thin lips moved, but he didn’t make a sound for a long time. When I left with my suitcase. Evelyn was not far outside the door. Her gaze towards me carried a hint of mockery. Just like in my past life, no matter how much of an innocent white lotus she pretended to be on the surface, in reality, she targeted me at every turn, crying at the slightest disagreement. The tears of the weak easily garner sympathy. “Ms. Davis, I’m sorry to put you out.” “If it wasn’t inconvenient for me, Arthur wouldn’t have done this.” My grip on the suitcase handle tightened. Just as I was about to walk past her, she suddenly grabbed my wrist. My reflexes kicked in, and I threw her hand off. “Ah—!!” Evelyn’s wheelchair rolled uncontrollably towards the stairs. A scream echoed, and the maids in the villa rushed over. “Arthur, save me, save me—” Hearing this, Arthur ran out of his room in a panic, shoving me out of the way. He lunged and grabbed the handrail, stopping the wheelchair from rolling further down. I stood frozen in place, my throat tightening: “It wasn’t me.” The wheelchair was stuck on the stairs, and a few maids blocked the way. Arthur hurriedly scooped Evelyn up into his arms and walked over to me. The maids coordinated to move the wheelchair over. “Arthur, it scared me to death.” “I thought I was going to die…” Her eyes were completely red, and the terror in her eyes couldn’t be faked. After soothing Evelyn, Arthur looked at me furiously. “Chloe, are you crazy?!” “If something had really happened to Evelyn, you would be investigated for murder, do you know that?!” 04 I bit my lower lip, my stomach full of grievances, my nose stinging: “I didn’t.” “It wasn’t me, she suddenly grabbed my hand, I just shook it off.” Hearing this, Evelyn said with a tearful voice: “It’s my fault, Arthur, you shouldn’t blame Ms. Davis.” “It’s my fault for not locking the wheelchair earlier, that’s why this happened.” “Evelyn, you don’t need to speak up for Chloe anymore.” Arthur said coldly: “I know exactly what her temper is like.” “Over the years, any woman who got close to me was driven away by her petty tricks.” I couldn’t help but laugh, tears in the corners of my eyes: “So Arthur, you don’t believe me?” “Do you deserve to be believed?” he retorted. “Right, I don’t deserve it.” “Only Evelyn deserves it. Whatever she says, you believe.” As my words fell, I pulled my suitcase to leave. But Arthur had the maids block me. He said: “Apologize.” I turned back to look at him in disbelief. He repeated: “Evelyn suffered for no reason. You should apologize.” “And if I don’t?” I asked, tears in my eyes. I thought facing this scenario again, I would be able to handle it with breezy indifference. But I overestimated myself. When all the past favoritism turned into a sharp sword pointed at me… It really hurt. “You know my methods.” Arthur said coldly. He looked at the maids behind me. The maids exchanged glances, just as they were about to step forward and press down on my shoulders. I let out a self-deprecating scoff. Releasing my grip on the suitcase, I bowed to Evelyn and apologized: “I was wrong about what happened today. I shouldn’t have shaken you off when you grabbed my hand.” “I’m sorry I almost caused you to fall.” Evelyn was stunned for two seconds, and Arthur’s expression also grew heavy. I stood up and looked at Arthur: “Is that okay?” “If not, I can kneel.” I said. Arthur’s eyes were filled with complex emotions, but ultimately he said nothing. I pulled my suitcase downstairs. Just as I reached the first floor, Martha said: “Mr. Sterling is probably just in a bad mood today.” “Miss, you shouldn’t hold this against him. Over the years, everyone can see how much he cares for you.” While speaking up for him, she tried to take my suitcase. I just smiled. In the past, whenever I fought with Arthur, Martha would always act as the peacemaker. After all these years, Martha was the same as always. But Arthur and I could never go back to the way things were. “Miss, aren’t you going to the guest room?” she asked in surprise. I shook my head: “No.” “But Mr. Sterling…” “Please tell Arthur for me, thank you for taking care of me all this time, and I won’t bother him ever again.” In this life, ending it here is enough. I don’t want to endure the pain of my past life again. 05 After settling Evelyn in, Arthur called Martha in and pulled up the security footage from the hallway. When Martha came over, she hesitated to speak. Actually, he believed Chloe. Over the years, although she would use petty tricks to keep other women away from him, they were all harmless. She knew where the line was. So when the footage showed Evelyn provoking Chloe first, he didn’t react much. He owed Evelyn a life. As long as Evelyn didn’t go overboard, he would let her do whatever she wanted. “I knew it, how could Miss hurt anyone?” Martha said indignantly. Arthur rubbed his temples: “Make something Chloe likes to eat tonight.” “But Miss has already left.” Arthur froze instantly: “What?” “Miss asked me to tell you, thank you for taking care of her all this time, and she won’t bother you ever again.” Martha’s tone was a bit passive-aggressive. Arthur didn’t blame her, just let out an exhausted sigh. “Chloe just has that temper, she can’t stand being wronged even a little bit.” After he told Martha to leave and prepare dinner, he called Chloe. But she didn’t answer any of his calls. The more he called, the more irritable he became. He finally threw his phone on the desk. Actually, starting half a month ago, from the day he thought Chloe was going to confess to him. He started feeling an inexplicable irritability. Especially when facing Chloe’s eyes, and hearing her flat tone. He constantly felt like something was slipping out of his control. And now. It seemed all the answers were about to surface. 06 That Arthur could find me didn’t surprise me. With 7 days left before I had to report, I had returned to my own home after leaving the villa. Arthur stood outside the courtyard, the cherry of a cigarette flickering between his fingers, his brow tightly furrowed. I saw him just as I returned from the hospital. “Off work.” I nodded, not saying much. The surroundings suddenly fell into dead silence. He was waiting for me to continue speaking, but I honestly had nothing left to say. Until his phone rang. It was a call from Evelyn. Arthur didn’t avoid me, swiping to answer it right there. Her weak sobs carried over from the other end: “Arthur, I had a nightmare.” “I dreamt of the earthquake, I dreamt I couldn’t save you, could you… come back and keep me company?” She pleaded carefully. Arthur subconsciously looked at me. It was already dark. I lowered my eyes to look at the elongated shadows on the ground, my expression flat. After a long while, I heard him say: “I’ll be right back.” The call disconnected. Arthur naturally reached to hold my hand, but I frowned and avoided it. His movement halted. When he looked at me, there was a bit more confusion in his eyes. He probably forgot. Our previous intimacy was because I treated him as the one I loved. “Arthur, you have a partner now.” “We shouldn’t cross the line anymore.” My tone was flat. Arthur let out a scoff, retracted his hand, and deliberately casually put it in his pocket. “I know you can’t accept me and Evelyn right away.” “But it’s okay, I can wait until you can accept it before I get engaged to her.” “For now, just think of it as you two getting familiar and adapting to each other.” I didn’t say anything, just remained silent. In my past life, ever since Evelyn appeared, Arthur and I never had a single day where we spoke properly. We fought every time we met. He scolded me for being shameless, for liking my own “Uncle.” He also said I couldn’t distinguish between familial love and romantic love. He pushed me away step by step, yet I pushed forward relentlessly, like an iron wall. Even when I was covered in bruises from all the vicious words. My friends. His friends. All advised me: “Arthur doesn’t like you, why won’t you believe it?” “The one he likes is Evelyn.” Every time, I would cry and say, “No, Arthur loves me.” On the day I turned eighteen, he thought I was asleep and secretly kissed me. He said he would marry me after I turned twenty-two. I firmly believed Arthur only wanted to marry Evelyn out of gratitude. Until that day. The rival family tried to take me away from a bar. I had no contact with them, and I didn’t understand why they wanted to grab me. Until their second son said their patriarch had suffered a brain infarction. It suddenly dawned on me. Arthur once said people from that family had looked for me. He said their hands were dirty and told me to keep my distance from them. But I never knew they were looking for me because of their patriarch. They sincerely wanted to ask me to perform the surgery. I cried and refused to go, my white knuckles gripping Arthur’s coat tightly. But he coldly said: “Let go.” He stood by coldly, watching me being dragged away, watching them violently snap my fingers one by one while I was wide awake. Listening to my agonizing screams. Without so much as furrowing a brow. At that moment, I finally confirmed it: Arthur didn’t love me. 07 “What are you thinking about?” Arthur’s voice sounded, pulling my thoughts back. “You’ve thrown enough of a tantrum these past few days. Let’s just consider the last incident over.” “Chloe, you’re not a child anymore.” As his words fell, he opened the passenger side door and looked at me. I stood rooted to the spot, forcing an ugly smile onto my face. I suddenly really wanted to ask the Arthur from my past life. How could he be so cruel, watching me be tortured, watching me fall into depression, and die a slow death. Even if he didn’t love me, I was still the “niece” he had raised since childhood. “Arthur, you were right that day.” “Over the years, any woman who appeared by your side was driven away by my petty tricks.” “So for Evelyn’s safety, I won’t go back.” Arthur frowned. “Chloe—” “Arthur, you know I liked you, right?” I calmly interrupted Arthur. His pupils suddenly contracted. Over the years, I never hid my affection. Anyone who wasn’t blind would know. I believe Arthur knew too. “Chloe.” He looked at me with difficulty. “Don’t worry, Arthur, I won’t anymore.” “I was ignorant before, mistaking familial love for romantic love, and made a lot of embarrassing mistakes.” “Now I guess I’m cutting my losses in time.” “I hope you’ll forgive me.” After speaking, I smiled again. But Arthur looked as if his soul had been sucked out, standing blankly in place. As if those few sentences I just said were incredibly difficult to understand. He opened his lips, about to speak. The phone in his pocket rang again. It was exceptionally jarring in the quiet night, ringing continuously. He still seemed unable to recover his senses. But I had already taken two steps back, turned, and walked away.

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In the spring of the fifth year after our divorce. Arthur and I unexpectedly crossed paths at a tattoo studio. He was there to touch up the color of his beloved’s name tattooed on his chest. I was there to cover up the old scars on my wrist. After five years of separation, we looked at each other in silence. After a moment of silence, Arthur was just about to speak when a pair of small hands grabbed the hem of his shirt. “Daddy.” The little boy looked at me curiously: “Who is she?” 1 The island breeze rustled the wind chimes hanging from the porch, breaking the long silence. “I’m a customer,” I said. “Just like your daddy, I’m here to get a tattoo.” The little boy tilted his head: “Do you know my daddy?” “Leo.” Arthur’s tone held a hint of sternness. The little boy pouted and stopped talking. “I don’t know him,” I answered anyway. “A stranger.” Arthur’s face darkened. The shop owner tapped the counter, his gaze shifting between me and him: “Who’s first?” Arthur, who had been leaning against the counter, stood up straight, his eyes fixed on me: “She is.” The man was wearing a white linen shirt paired with silver-gray dress pants. The collar was unbuttoned casually, revealing a good portion of his toned chest. On his left chest, there was an English tattoo, half-hidden so it wasn’t very clear, but I knew whose name it was. Even when we divorced, that name had never appeared on Arthur’s chest. “First come, first served,” I said with polite formality. “Please go ahead, sir.” Before Arthur could reply, his phone vibrated. By chance, I saw “Wife” displayed on the screen. He pressed the screen off and immediately looked at me. I turned and walked toward the lounge booth. From behind, I heard the little boy ask excitedly: “Is Mom calling?” 2 Arthur’s voice was naturally cold, and when he coaxed people, he tended to lower his voice. His voice was warm and husky, matching the cello music playing in the shop perfectly. I lowered my eyes and gently stirred my coffee, suddenly hearing a childish “Auntie” by my ear. Turning my head, the little boy from earlier was leaning on the armrest looking at me. He was exquisitely handsome, with a refined, scholarly look; he was truly adorable. So adorable that even knowing whose child he was, I couldn’t feel any resistance. “I’ll tell you a secret, you look so much like my mom,” the little boy said, as if sharing a secret. “She’s a super pretty big star.” “Then you must look a lot like her.” The little boy’s eyes instantly lit up, and he seemed about to lean closer to me when a large hand pressed down on his head. Arthur patted the boy’s head: “Go back to the car with Uncle Chen first.” I raised an eyebrow and turned to see a middle-aged man who had followed Arthur for many years standing behind him. Our eyes met, and he was shocked, trying to hide a hint of faint awkwardness: “… Miss Chloe.” I nodded calmly, my tone carrying a bit of feigned sigh at our reunion: “Secretary Chen.” As Arthur scooped the boy into his arm, a flash of silver on his wrist caught my eye. It was the dial of his watch, a Patek Philippe, a style he would absolutely never have chosen in the past. On his long ring finger, there was a plain ring, low-key yet luxurious. During our two years of marriage, Arthur never wore a wedding ring. True love is true love, I thought as I took a sip of coffee. Married for so many years, and she still hasn’t become just a ‘mosquito blood smear’ on the wall. (Translator’s note: The ‘mosquito blood smear’ refers to a famous quote by Eileen Chang, suggesting that over time, even a passionate love can fade into something annoying or insignificant.) 3 The boy was taken away by Secretary Chen, but Arthur remained standing in front of the booth. “Chloe,” the man spoke. “How have you been these past few years?” Halfway through my coffee, I set down the cup: “Not bad, thanks for asking.” After a moment of silence, the shadow above my head disappeared as Arthur followed the owner up to the second floor. The cello music faded into a slow, calm piano piece, mirroring my current state of mind. The studio owner was an internationally renowned tattoo artist; his custom designs were highly sought after, and he only took two clients a day. It just so happened to be this coincidental today. My eyes slid over the designs on the wall, suddenly stopping on the centerpiece. It depicted a red lip tattoo on the inner thigh of a man. The man sat on the floor with one leg bent, wearing black briefs under a bathrobe, with a light pink lip print ambiguously placed. The lip shape was beautiful, the lines clean, creating a dark, surging tension against the bronze skin. This was the mark a woman left between a man’s legs. “Miss Chloe,” the owner’s voice behind me pulled me back. “This way, please.” I turned and saw Arthur coming down from the spiral staircase, his shirt collar buttoned up tight. I asked: “Done so quickly?” “He lost his nerve and decided not to touch it up,” the owner, who was very familiar with Arthur, said. “Go on up to the second floor.” Arthur stopped at the foot of the stairs, unmoving, one hand tucked into his suit pocket, expressionless. He looked down at me from his elevated position, his eyes dark and heavy. We stared at each other in silence, but what came to my mind was our very last intimate encounter. After kissing and getting into bed, I saw the red lip tattoo on his inner thigh. 4 The clock on the wall struck the hour, and I grabbed my bag and headed for the stairs. As I brushed past Arthur, he grabbed my wrist, gripping it so hard the watch dug into my skin, causing a sharp pain. “Chloe,” Arthur’s voice was hoarse. “Must you pretend to be strangers?” I didn’t struggle, looking into his eyes without a ripple of emotion: “Pretending to be strangers is the only courtesy I can extend to you.” He paused, released my hand, rubbed his thumb, and his emotions eased: “I know you still hate me.” Arthur just had this ability to hold onto control at all times, to never be embarrassed in any situation. Just like when photos of him and Mia kissing went viral, he faced me with this exact same demeanor. Only back then, I was hysterical, acting like a madwoman who had lost her reason in the face of her husband’s calm attitude. “You’re overthinking it,” I walked up a few steps, my tone distant. “With our current relationship, there is no hate to speak of.” Arthur seemed to want to say something more, but I didn’t care and turned to walk upstairs. The studio’s decor was very personalized, post-modern style, spacious, and quiet. The owner confirmed my tattoo design on the computer, and the assistant prepped my skin. I took off the watch on my right wrist. The leather strap had a unique design, wrapping around three times. Once removed, the pink, jagged scars on my wrist were exposed. “The wrist is a very painful area,” the owner said, unfazed. “Be mentally prepared.” I smiled: “It probably won’t hurt as much as when I cut my wrist back then.” 5 Two scars, one deeper than the other. After the numbing cream took effect, before transferring the stencil, the owner confirmed the tattoo design with me one last time. A blue butterfly, wings spread, clean and sharp. “This is a tricky spot, and you’ll need touch-ups later,” the owner put on his mask. “I guarantee the scars will be perfectly covered.” “Do all tattoos need touch-ups?” “No, Arthur’s is because of his skin type,” the owner didn’t hide that he knew Arthur. “So tattooing him is really bad for my reputation.” I didn’t say anything. Having been married to Arthur for two years, of course, I knew about his special skin type. Back then, Arthur didn’t really like me leaving marks on him when we were intimate. But now, even though it meant the hassle of frequent touch-ups, he still tattooed Mia’s name on his chest. And even had Mia’s lip print tattooed on his inner thigh. As the first needle touched my wrist, I inevitably frowned at the sharp pain. The owner suddenly said: “Tell me the story behind your scars.” I was slightly taken aback, then laughed: “What, do tattoo artists have this hobby too?” In current public opinion, Arthur was considered a winner in life. His career was expanding rapidly, riding the wind of success; in love, he was mutually devoted to a popular actress, with a perfect family. “When I met Arthur, he was already married to Mia,” the owner said. “And Mia looks very much like you.” I smiled, pulled a pack of cigarettes from my bag: “Do you mind?” The owner shook his head. I blew out a smoke ring, thought for a moment, and said slowly: “I’m Arthur’s ex-wife.” 6 I met Arthur in college. As a senior in the same major, he recruited me when he started his own business. Today, Aegis Tech is practically an industry leader, but when it first started, there were only two people. Arthur’s standards were incredibly high. He was a prominent figure on campus, and countless people submitted resumes during recruitment. “But I was the only one who stayed.” Amidst the swirling smoke, I narrowed my eyes: “The Arthur back then was extremely arrogant, looking down on everyone. I was the last interviewee.” No one held any hope. I thought he was too aloof; he interviewed all day and thought everyone was an idiot, including me. “But we talked for a whole night. By dawn, he reached out his hand to me and said, ‘Happy working together’.” “Our philosophies aligned, our goals were the same. Arthur’s ambitions were huge.” I flicked the ash off my cigarette. “Coincidentally, my ambitions weren’t small either.” During the first two years of starting Aegis Tech, Arthur and I rented a place off-campus together; we ran business together, and secured investments together. Arthur was my mentor. He unreservedly taught me everything about networking and professional knowledge. On my twenty-second birthday, after pulling an all-nighter writing code with Arthur, as the sky began to lighten, he leaned against the window and lit a cigarette. “He asked me,” I took a drag of my cigarette, “if I wanted a smoke?” Curious, I leaned over, only to choke until tears streamed down my face. Arthur started laughing, pulled me into his chest, and leaned down to kiss me. When the kiss ended, he asked if I wanted to marry him. The vibration on my wrist stopped for a moment. The owner said: “Asking like that, shouldn’t he have asked if you wanted to be his girlfriend?” I laughed too, as if telling someone else’s story, with the calm detachment of an observer watching a fire from across the river. “I said yes. That was also the day we got our first round of funding.” “Riding the wave of AI, Aegis Tech soared, making a name for itself in the industry in just one year.” “The day the core team of Aegis Tech was established, I took the position of CEO, and Arthur took me home.” “Only then did I know that his ‘Vance’ was the Vance family, the shipping tycoons of Ocean City.” 7 The Vance family built their fortune in shipping, accumulating profound heritage over three generations, making them a top-tier wealthy family in Ocean City. This marriage was naturally met with obstruction, but since Arthur had the courage to break away from the family and start his own business, his marriage couldn’t be easily controlled. “Arthur fought it for two years, stubbornly enduring until Old Mr. Vance put him in the hospital, not compromising despite the pressure from countless elders.” The ash fell silently. I watched it for a long while before saying softly: “During Aegis Tech’s first round of financing, I married him.” “We had a simple wedding on a small island, which Arthur later bought in my name and called ‘Zephyr Isle’.” The owner stopped his outlining entirely. I nodded: “It’s the island we are on right now.” “Before we married, Arthur signed an agreement. Besides my original founder shares in Aegis Tech, he transferred all his available cash flow and set up a trust for me.” “He said he hoped Aegis Tech would become my strongest backing.” “Back then, everyone sighed in admiration, saying Arthur loved me deeply, binding our interests so deeply, leaving no room for divorce.” “I used to think so too.” The cigarette was half-burnt, and I crushed it out in the ashtray. “Until the first year after we married, he personally chose Mia as the spokesperson for Aegis products.” I once asked Arthur why he chose an unknown actress. “Don’t you think,” Arthur pointed at the massive billboard of Mia at the time, “she looks very much like you did in college?” “She captures eighty percent of your charm,” before I could answer, Arthur chuckled first, “but she’s empty-headed, just a pretty face.” “Mia rose to fame very quickly.” The owner’s words pulled me out of my memories. “If I remember correctly, she became famous when she was nineteen.” “Yes.” I remembered something, “Less than a year after becoming the spokesperson, she was famous all over the country.” “The day she won the Best Newcomer Award was Arthur’s twenty-fifth birthday. We had agreed to have dinner together.” “But I waited two hours and he still hadn’t come back. I couldn’t reach him on the phone, nor could I reach Secretary Chen.” “Until eight o’clock that night, a trending topic suddenly dropped from the sky: Mia passionately kissing a mysterious man.” “I clicked on it.” I looked up at the owner and smiled, “The mysterious man was my husband.” 8 They kissed so passionately, pressing Mia against the front of the car, even the car shook. The usually calm and arrogant Arthur, upon discovering the cameras, his first reaction was to press the slender Mia into his arms. The video paused at the moment Arthur glared fiercely at the camera. I masochistically watched it again and again, my tears dropping onto the screen, landing right on Mia’s profile as she buried herself in Arthur’s chest. She looked almost exactly like I did in college. I found out the whole truth. Mia was being given a hard time at a dinner party, and it was Arthur who bailed her out. From then on, Mia’s career skyrocketed, with countless top-tier resources handed to her on a silver platter. When I slammed the evidence in front of Arthur, he offered no explanation and showed no panic. He lit a cigarette and asked: “What do you want to do?” “Shares or new projects?” Arthur said. “Everything is negotiable, just don’t drag Mia into this. It wasn’t easy for her to get to where she is today.” Arthur’s calm attitude turned me into a madwoman. I grew up missing a father figure, and to me, Arthur filled the role of an older mentor. He was my teacher first, before becoming my husband. During the years Aegis Tech was developing, I was strapped for cash and lacked experience; it was Arthur who guided me step by step behind the scenes. To ensure I had security when I married him, he built a solid, high wall for me using the most tangible benefits. I never thought this wall would come crashing down, and in such a disgraceful way. “So you used all the connections at your disposal to have Mia blacklisted,” the owner said. “But it failed.” “Failed spectacularly, at that.” I laughed self-deprecatingly: “Deep down, I still harbored a sliver of hope back then.” “Thinking Arthur was just playing around, or made a mistake in a moment of weakness.” “Don’t look at me like that.” I looked at the owner. “I was too young back then.” But Arthur’s counterattack was a slap in the face. He forcefully suppressed the trending topics and saved Mia’s career. A week later, the blacklisted Mia triumphantly became the lead actress in a major director’s movie. 9 The first pink, fleshy scar became the lower wing line of the butterfly, so blue. The stinging in my wrist grew numb. I stared at it for a long while: “That’s how the first scar came about.” “Mia found me, using a face exactly like mine in college, and begged me to let her and Arthur be together.” “You see, being loved can make a person stupid.” I sighed. “She actually had the nerve to say that the unloved one is the mistress.” So I launched a second round of retaliation against Mia, buying off numerous marketing accounts to expose her true face as a homewrecker. The atmosphere grew quiet, only the vibration of the tattoo gun could be heard. It had been five years, and no matter how much love and hate there was, it had been worn away by the river of time, except for this one thing— “Arthur used Aegis Tech to threaten me.” My tone became heavy: “He used the lifeblood we built together to control me.” Founding Aegis was due to Arthur’s inherent pride; he didn’t want to rely on his family’s shadow for everything. Aegis was built from nothing. Only he and I truly knew the hardships involved. I controlled the core product and tech team, yet Arthur was willing to let Aegis Tech fall apart for Mia. “You only have Aegis, but I still have the Vance family.” Even when things were at their ugliest, Arthur remained calm: “Chloe, everything you have today, I gave you, including Aegis.” “I was really too young back then.” I sighed for the umpteenth time. “When the news of Arthur and Mia getting a hotel room broke, it was exactly our one-year anniversary.” “I saw that red lip tattoo on Arthur’s inner thigh, and that’s when the first scar on my wrist appeared.” When I woke up in the hospital, Arthur was by my side. With red eyes, he pulled me into his arms. For the first time, I chose to compromise. Because I was pregnant, three months along.

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For the three years I was with Liam, I was known in his circle as the absolute perfect, obedient girlfriend. I never checked his phone, never cared how many other women he flirted with, and never fought with him no matter how late he stayed out. Liam was always very smug about it, bragging to his friends about how much I loved him. Until one day, by chance, he saw an old social media account documenting my relationship with my first love. The me in those videos was petty, jealous, and completely lacked the “emotional stability” I had now. In the video, my first love smiled helplessly and asked me: “Why is your temper so bad?” I answered self-righteously: “I only get mad because I love you. If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t care at all.” Liam was stunned. 1 When I bumped into Liam at the bar, there was a beautiful girl in a spaghetti-strap top and hot pants sitting on his lap. Her slender, pale arms were wrapped around his neck, and the lips smiling down at him were coated in glittering lip gloss. The few friends in the booth who were married or had serious girlfriends had already stood up, laughing apologetically at Liam. “Sorry about this, Liam. The wife runs a tight ship, she’s called a few times already to rush me. If I don’t go back now, I’ll be sleeping on the couch tonight.” Liam let the girl take the cigarette from his mouth and place it between her own lips, scoffing: “You’re all useless. Letting a woman control you like that.” The other single guys started cheering: “We should all learn from Liam! No matter what time he goes back, his girl never dares to check up on him. Tell us your secrets, bro. Teach us how you trained her!” The girl sitting in his lap giggled, leaning her upper body against Liam. “Yeah, Liam, if you act like this with me, aren’t you afraid your girlfriend will see and get mad?” Liam played with his lighter, a look of boastful pride rising on his face: “She loves me to death. She does whatever I tell her to do. In the three years we’ve been together, she’s never fought with me once.” “Damn! Liam is the man!” The guys next to him all laughed, looking envious. “All these years Liam’s been playing around, and his girl hasn’t dared to say a single word. That’s a real man right there—” His words cut off abruptly as he saw me standing nearby, completely expressionless. Liam saw me too. There wasn’t a trace of panic on his face. He simply pushed the girl off his lap, raised an eyebrow, and waved me over. “What are you doing here?” I paused for a second, then walked over, saying calmly: “I came with some friends.” The girl who had been pushed away looked annoyed. She looked me up and down, forcing a strained smile. “Hey, Sarah.” Only when I got closer did I recognize her. She was the new junior secretary at Liam’s company. I think her name was Chloe. She went to a mediocre state college, but Liam had personally approved her hiring after seeing her resume photo. I didn’t expect him to hook up with her so quickly. I ignored her. Liam looked like he had drank quite a bit. His beautiful, expressive eyes were misty, looking devastatingly handsome in the blurred lighting. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward him. “You came out to play and didn’t even tell me. Give me a kiss.” He leaned toward the corner of my mouth. I instinctively dodged him. I didn’t know if he had just kissed Chloe or not. I thought it was dirty. Liam’s expression changed, the smile slowly fading from his lips. Even though he was the one sitting, the way he looked at me felt like he was looking down from a great height. “Sarah, what’s that supposed to mean?” I turned my head and said softly: “You’re drunk.” “You think I’m dirty?” Probably because I embarrassed him in front of his friends, Liam’s eyes turned icy. He suddenly grabbed Chloe, who was standing nearby, pulled her onto his lap, and held the back of her head. Chloe looked thrilled and submissively accepted his kiss. The two of them exchanged a wet, deep kiss right in front of me. When Chloe pulled away panting ten seconds later, a silver thread of saliva still connected their lips. She glanced at me, a smug smile playing on her lips. Liam looked at me provocatively. His other friends all fell silent, their eyes fixing on me. No woman could tolerate her boyfriend kissing another woman right in front of her. They probably thought I was finally going to snap. I just met Liam’s gaze and said flatly, “You’re drunk. I’m leaving.” As I walked away, I heard the stunned murmurs of Liam’s friends. “Damn, her emotional stability is insane! She’s not even mad!” “Liam really has her under control. She doesn’t dare get mad at him, probably afraid of getting dumped.” “She loves him too much. I heard she chased Liam for a whole year. She obeys his every command, she’s in way too deep!” Liam let out a laugh, laced with contempt. “She can’t live without me. She doesn’t dare get mad at me.” The deep winter weather felt like knives. I didn’t know when it started, but it was snowing outside. The flurries drifted down, illuminated red by passing taillights one moment, then turning a murky yellow under the streetlamps the next. I pulled my scarf tighter, leaned against the wall, and lit a cigarette. The mint-flavored smoke mixed with the freezing air, stinging my lungs as I inhaled. This was my first love’s favorite cigarette. When we were together, I used to constantly pester him to let me smoke one, and he would scold me every time: “Sarah, what’s wrong with you? If I catch you smoking, I’ll break your legs!” On the day we broke up, I bought a pack myself, coughing as I smoked it. After that, there was no one to manage me, so I just kept smoking. I rarely smoke these days. But sometimes, when my emotions flare up, I still can’t control it. Watching Liam kiss someone else, I really wasn’t angry. Because I simply didn’t love him. 2 I was the one who pursued Liam. The first time I saw him was at a newly opened bar. He was there as an investor. The table in front of his booth was covered in expensive liquor, and the beautiful women around him were giggling at his jokes. That face attracted the gaze of every girl in the room. I remember a lot of people went up to ask for his number that night. I did too. Many people liked Liam, but I was the one who persisted the longest. For a year, I was at his beck and call. Just one word from him, and no matter how far away I was, I would appear in front of him. Liam’s playboy lifestyle was famous in our circle. There was never a shortage of women around him. Even if he had just finished fooling around with some girl, I would go pick him up with just one phone call. I wouldn’t ask anything, wouldn’t say anything, I’d just make him a pot of hangover soup. Everyone thought I was madly in love with him. They all said the Davis family was a disgrace. It was bad enough that my family went bankrupt, but for the only daughter to be so infatuated with the young Mr. Sterling that she insisted on acting like his lapdog? The catalyst for us getting together was a night we both drank too much and ended up rolling into the same bed in a hazy stupor. I only remember Liam being particularly rough that night. I cried a lot, holding onto him and crying the whole time. When we woke up in the morning, Liam looked at the marks all over my body and my swollen, teary eyes. Maybe he felt a rare moment of softness. He lit a cigarette and asked me very casually: “Do you want to be with me?” “Let’s get one thing straight,” he lit his cigarette, biting the filter. “From now on, don’t try to manage me. I hate women who try to manage me.” I stared at the blanket covering my chest, zoning out for a moment, then said: “Okay.” Liam always thought my tears that day were tears of joy. He didn’t know that that day was my first love’s birthday. His side profile looked very much like my first love’s. At that banquet, I spotted him in the crowd with a single glance. Under the dim lighting that night, for just a fleeting moment, I felt like that person had returned to my side. … I was with Julian from the time I was seventeen until I was twenty-five. Almost ten years. He was the only student on financial aid at our elite private school, specially recruited for his top grades. I heard his family used to be very wealthy, but later his father was betrayed by a business partner. Unable to handle the blow of bankruptcy, his father committed suicide. His mother was already in poor health and passed away from grief shortly after. Overnight, he went from a pampered young master to a penniless orphan. But Julian recovered quickly. He was never subservient or arrogant. Even in a private school full of rich kids, he maintained the number one spot in academics and was even elected student body president. Who wouldn’t like someone like that? I confessed to him many times and was rejected every time. But I never gave up; I just kept liking him. Many girls liked him, but slowly gave up after his repeated rejections. Only I was relentlessly persistent. Finally, right before graduation, when I confessed for the sixth time, he asked me helplessly: “What exactly do you like about me?” My face was flushed, tears welling in my eyes as I looked at him stubbornly. I didn’t know if I was angry or sad. I just knew I liked Julian. There’s no reason. Liking something is inherently unreasonable sometimes. “I just like you. I like everything about you!” Julian’s expression was complex. After a long time, he said softly: “But I have nothing. I can’t give you anything. A guy like me… do you still like me?” I said loudly: “Yes! Julian, even though I like you, I have a bottom line too! If you don’t agree this time, I’m never going to ask you again!” Julian looked at me for a long time, then let out a long breath. It looked like exasperation, but also like surrender. After a long time, he gently hugged me. “You really are an idiot.” My eyes widened. My heart skipped a beat, then started pounding violently. That was the first time I understood the feeling of my heart bursting with joy. It turns out when people are happy, fireworks really do go off in their hearts. After that, Julian and I were together. He had great grades; mine weren’t as good. To be with me, he intentionally skipped two major questions on the college entrance exams so he could apply to the same university as me. When I found out, I cried my eyes out. He just held me and laughed. “Idiot, why are you crying? All universities are pretty much the same. Don’t worry, from now on, I won’t let you suffer.” He didn’t make promises lightly. Starting his sophomore year, Julian began his own startup. He and a group of friends launched a company and made their first pot of gold. By the year we graduated, he had already bought a luxury penthouse in the city center. He renovated it in my favorite style, planning to use it as our marital home. Everything was going smoothly. In our plans for the future, there was only each other. Neither of us ever doubted we would make it to the end. Until after graduation, when I brought him home to meet my parents. And then I saw my dad’s face drastically change. Julian’s body swayed, the color draining from his face inch by inch. Later, I found out my dad was the business partner who betrayed Julian’s father, destroying his family. The world is absurd like that. Because my dad was constantly traveling for business, Liam had never seen him before. None of us could have predicted this possibility. That day, my dad asked my mom and me to leave so he could talk to Julian alone. Not long after, Julian left without saying goodbye and went abroad. He didn’t leave me a single word. He said nothing to me. The man who, because of one sentence from me saying I missed him, would cross half the campus to keep me company; the man who promised to love me forever; the man who knelt on one knee with red eyes asking me to marry him, saying that with me he finally had a home… just abandoned me like that. And I couldn’t even hate him. Because it was my dad who ruined him. Who wouldn’t harbor hatred? If it were me, I would hate him too. I don’t know if it was karma, but after that, my dad’s investments failed, he committed suicide, and my family went bankrupt. Julian, on the other hand, thrived abroad. He had a great eye for investments, caught the right market trends, and in just a few years, his company went public on NASDAQ. He became a famous tech billionaire. The tables had turned. Our paths never crossed again. And it was impossible for them to ever cross again. So when I saw Liam, I felt my long-dead heart seemingly start beating again for the first time in a long while. To me, what difference did it make who I was with? The fact that Liam looked so much like Julian was already a blessing from above. For the sake of his face, I had been utterly obedient and at his beck and call these past few years. Whenever he needed me, I was always there. No matter how late he stayed out playing, one phone call and I would get out of bed to go pick him up from another woman’s hands. My birthday, our anniversary—he remembered none of them. On my birthday, he didn’t even come home; he was out having a blast with a girl he just met. Liam had always been a notorious playboy in our circle. He loved to play and knew how to play. The women around him changed faster than his clothes. Before my family went bankrupt, I had heard of his reputation. After getting together with me, he didn’t dial it back at all. Several times, women even came directly to confront me. I could tell several times that he wanted to break up with me, trying to use those incidents as an excuse to start a fight. But I never got jealous, and I never fought with him. Over time, he slowly got used to my presence. He and his friends all thought I loved him to my very core, loved him so much I was pathetic. But the truth is, I genuinely didn’t care. I just wanted to be able to look at that face occasionally in the dead of night. To fantasize that Julian was still by my side. Relying on that, I could keep going. 3 It was a friend of Liam’s birthday. They invited people from our circle to dinner, and everyone brought their plus-ones. Liam brought me along too. But I didn’t expect Chloe to be there as well, naturally taking the seat right next to Liam. She even asked me: “Sarah, you don’t mind if I sit here, do you?” Liam glanced at me. I didn’t say anything. His smile gradually faded, and with a cold scoff, he put his arm around Chloe. Chloe seemed genuinely infatuated with Liam. Throughout the meal, she constantly toasted him, even pressing close to him whispering who-knows-what, occasionally laughing uncontrollably and leaning against him when he teased her. I wasn’t angry in the slightest, sitting quietly to the side eating my food. Liam’s friends clicked their tongues in envy, saying to their own girlfriends: “Look how magnanimous she is. Not like you, getting jealous over every little thing. Learn from her!” His girlfriend had had a bit too much to drink, and scoffed dismissively: “She only cares if she likes you. If she doesn’t like you, she won’t care at all!” I don’t know if it was a coincidence, but after she said that, the entire room went quiet. Liam clearly heard it too. The smile remained on his face, but the hand gripping his glass tightened until the veins popped. His friend froze, immediately trying to smooth things over with an apologetic smile: “Sorry, Liam, my girl had too much to drink. She didn’t mean it.” His girlfriend also started apologizing. Liam didn’t say anything, but his gaze fell on me. I turned my head, avoiding his eyes. He suddenly asked me: “You really aren’t angry at all?” “What is there to be angry about?” I was confused. “Isn’t this the freedom you wanted?” I got to look at that face every day. And he got the freedom he wanted. We both got what we wanted. What was wrong with that? After all, when Liam first agreed to be with me, he warned me not to manage him. These past few years, his side flings never stopped. I thought this was the arrangement he liked. But Liam seemed unhappy. He got even closer to Chloe. Chloe was practically sitting on his lap, and the two of them exchanged a wet kiss right in front of me. Completely ignoring me, his girlfriend. The others were used to it, though a few looked at me with sympathetic expressions. I was scrolling through my phone’s photo album to kill time, waiting for the dinner to end so I could go home. After a few more rounds of drinks, Chloe started feeling buzzed. Perhaps she finally couldn’t hold back her ambition to usurp my position, she eyed me a few times and started picking a fight: “What year is it, and you’re still using an iPhone 12? Pretty retro, huh.” I ignored her, but she got even more aggressive. “I’ve forgotten what an iPhone 12 even looks like. It’s an antique by now. I’m actually a bit curious. Sis, why don’t you let me see your phone?” “No,” I tightened my grip on my phone. “Liam~ tell Sarah to let me see it. It’s just a phone, what’s there to hide?” Seeing I wasn’t speaking, Liam frowned: “She wants to see it, just let her see it.” “No.” I refused again. “Liam~” Chloe grabbed his arm, whining. Probably feeling embarrassed that I rejected him, Liam’s face turned cold as he held his hand out to me: “Phone.” I remained silent. “What’s in the phone anyway?” Chloe added fuel to the fire. “It couldn’t be something inappropriate, could it?” Liam’s eyes darkened, and he reached over to snatch my phone. “What are you doing?!” I was startled. The phone slipped during the struggle. I instinctively shoved Liam away to catch it. His lower back hit the corner of the table, and he let out a muffled groan of pain, cursing at me: “Are you psycho, Sarah?! It’s just a stupid phone! If it breaks, I’ll buy you a new one—” The next second, looking at the video playing on the lit screen, all his words stopped abruptly. The video I had just been watching on my phone started playing again. It was from when I was still with Julian. I was on his back. Not knowing he was recording me, I was pouting and lecturing him. “Why were you talking to that girl for so long today?!” Julian sounded helpless: “She’s the vice president of the student council. We were talking about official business. Look at you, how can you be so jealous every day? Are you the reincarnation of a vinegar jar?” I got even angrier: “I’m jealous because I like you! If I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t care if you dropped dead!” Julian just laughed, hiking me higher up on his back. “Okay, okay, okay, you like me, I get it. So I should be happy then?” I poked him in the back: “From now on, you’re not allowed to talk to other girls, you’re not allowed to add their contacts, and you’re not allowed to like anyone else!” “Okay, whatever you say. Where did you get such a bad temper…” The video continued playing. I picked up the phone and turned it off. Liam maintained his posture from a moment ago, completely motionless. No one expected things to develop this way. They fell silent, their eyes fixed on us. The next second, Liam suddenly snatched the phone from my hand and smashed it violently onto the floor! Instinctively, I slapped Liam across the face, then bent down in a panic to pick up the phone. This was the last memento Julian had left me. The phone was smashed beyond recognition, the screen completely black. I grabbed the phone, finally realizing what I had done, and turned to look at Liam. That slap wasn’t that hard. But Liam was stunned. He didn’t even cover his face. He just stood there blankly, looking at me. He seemed somewhat lost, as if he didn’t recognize me anymore. Everyone was shocked. Not a single person dared to make a sound. You could hear a pin drop in the room. I regretted it a little, but somehow, inexplicably, I also felt a sense of relief. I didn’t actually want to hit Liam; it was just a reflex. But since things had come to this, I knew it was over between Liam and me. I stood up, grabbed my bag, and left. As I walked out the door, I sent Liam one last message. “Let’s break up.” 4 I walked aimlessly down the street, but suddenly spotted a familiar silhouette at the corner! In that instant, the sounds of the traffic all vanished. All I could hear was my heart skipping a beat before roaring back to life! That silhouette looked exactly like Julian. But by the time I rushed over, he had already disappeared into the sea of people, impossible to find again. I stood there in a daze, completely devastated, until the cars behind me honked to rush me. Only then did I turn away blankly. It seemed to snow especially heavily this winter. After sitting in a park for a while, I felt a slight chill on my eyelashes. Only then did I belatedly realize everything around me had turned completely white. I slowly curled up, not wanting to leave. I didn’t know where to go. After my dad died, my mom quickly remarried and moved abroad. I didn’t have a home anymore. Julian once gave me a home, but then he left me all alone. With Liam? That was even less of a home. I had places to stay, but I didn’t have a home to return to. Tears slid down my cheeks. I wiped them away gently and was about to stand up when a shadow suddenly fell over me. I thought it was Liam coming out to find me, but when I looked up, my breathing instantly stopped. That face that had appeared in my dreams countless times had crossed the boundary between fantasy and reality, appearing right in front of my eyes. And I couldn’t tell dream from reality. My fingers began to tremble, but I didn’t dare touch him. Snow clung to Julian’s eyelashes, slowly melting. For a moment, I thought the man from my memories who loved me had returned. He said gently: “I’m back.” … I forgot how I ended up back at Julian’s apartment with him. I only remember crying non-stop, clinging to him tightly, refusing to let go, until he helplessly held me as we lay on the bed, patting my back. “Stop crying, I’m not going anywhere. If you keep crying, you’ll get a headache.” I couldn’t even speak properly, lifting my head and sobbing brokenly: “When did you come back?” “A few months ago.” I paused for a second, then cried even louder: “Then why did it take you so long to come find me?!” Julian looked down, his eyes filled with complex emotions I couldn’t read. “I heard you were dating someone. I didn’t know if I should bother you.” “Then why did you come now?” “I couldn’t help it.” He seemed to finally admit defeat: “I couldn’t forget you, Sarah. I couldn’t let you go.” “I missed you so much it was killing me. I admit defeat. I have no other choice.” My hand paused. I sat up. Julian leaned down. On that freezing winter night, with heavy snow falling, this kiss that was delayed for far too long was scorching hot. Neither of us said another word. We had been together for so long, our mutual understanding was too profound. Neither of us needed to say anything more. We didn’t even have a brief moment of unfamiliarity; we knew each other’s bodies far too well. It wasn’t just about lust; it was about longing and possession. When my brow furrowed, I held onto him with an almost fearful grip, terrified this was just a dream. Then I realized, he was holding me even tighter. In a trembling embrace bordering on pain, we finally re-confirmed each other’s existence. When I woke up, it was broad daylight. The snow outside was still falling, the dark clouds pressing down heavily, casting a hazy gloom over everything. The bed beside me was empty. I panicked. Clutching my chest, I stumbled out of bed, about to run out the door, but crashed straight into Julian, who had just returned. The light in the room was dim. Shadows fell across his sharp features. Probably because of our intense activities, his M-shaped lips were flushed a deep red. He looked devastatingly handsome. I let out a sigh of relief and grabbed his forearm. “I thought…” I thought I was dreaming. During the years we were apart, I had too many dreams about him. But the happier the dreams were, the more devastated I felt when I woke up. After leaning against his chest for a long time, I finally mustered the courage: “Are you leaving again this time? About my dad…” Julian rested his chin on my head. After a long silence, he finally spoke: “At the time, I just couldn’t accept it. I didn’t know what to do. I truly hated him, and I couldn’t help but hate you too. All these years abroad, I was hating you while loving you at the same time. It was driving me insane. I saw a therapist, but I couldn’t help it.” “I kept dreaming about you,” he held my hand, his voice very soft. “I dreamt of you crying, asking me, ‘Julian, why don’t you want me anymore?’ My heart hurt so much. I’d wake up and smoke all night. I didn’t know what to do. Sarah, what did you expect me to do?” “Later, I slowly figured it out. Your dad is your dad, and you are you. What your dad did has nothing to do with you. And now your dad isn’t here anymore either. I’m willing to let it go. We can start over.” He slowly hugged me tighter: “I’m not leaving. I’m never leaving again. That apartment wasn’t good anyway. I bought a new house. We can decorate it from scratch together, okay?” My eyes stung and slowly blurred. I hugged his arm tight. “Okay.” The sunlight broke through the clouds. I didn’t know when, but the snow had stopped. My sky had finally cleared up, too.

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When the college entrance exam results were released, Arthur took the top spot in the state. Meanwhile, I, who had consistently maintained the number one rank in our grade, didn’t even make the cut-off for a bachelor’s degree. Arthur smiled, a brazen and reckless expression on his face. “Chloe, a bet is a bet. You are my girlfriend now.” I walked up to him and shoved him off the roof. Everything around me began to play backward like a rewinding movie. Time rewound to the day Arthur transferred to our school. Staring at that annoying face on the podium, I tightened my grip on my pen. It doesn’t matter. I will eliminate this obstacle of a male lead, time and time again. 1 The first time I realized I was the female lead in a sweet campus romance novel, The story had already ended a long time ago. I had been married to Arthur for eight years, and our son was six. He was a highly anticipated rising star in the tech world, while I held a token position in his company. My main responsibility was staying home and taking care of our child. It was our eighth wedding anniversary. Arthur was in a car accident. By the time I rushed to the hospital, he had just come out of surgery. The doctor said he needed a family member to stay and observe him for 72 hours post-operation. I sat by the hospital bed, looking at Arthur. His head was wrapped in bandages, one leg in a cast suspended in the air. His breathing was faint under the oxygen mask. Secretary Sullivan stood at the door of the hospital room, her eyes red, looking pitiful and delicate. “Mrs. Vance, I’m so sorry. If it weren’t for me, Mr. Vance wouldn’t be hurt so badly.” She covered her mouth, choking back sobs. My son, who was on the sofa, immediately ran over and took her hand. “Don’t cry, Miss Sullivan. Daddy will be fine!” That scene was particularly glaring. My own flesh and blood, after his father’s car accident, Was comforting his secretary, not me. “Leo,” I said, my voice terribly hoarse. “Come to Mommy.” My son turned to look at me with undisguised disgust. “Can’t you see Miss Sullivan is crying?” “Mom, you’re not a kid anymore. Stop making a scene.” Secretary Sullivan hurriedly wiped her tears. “Be a good boy, Leo. Go to your mom. I’m fine.” That’s what she said, but she didn’t let go of the child’s hand. 2 I looked away and turned my gaze back to Arthur on the bed. The afterglow of the setting sun filtered through the blinds, Casting alternating stripes of light and shadow on his face. I had looked at this face for thirteen years. From seventeen to thirty. From our school days to walking down the aisle. Why did it feel increasingly unfamiliar to me? I thought of this morning. While chopping vegetables in the kitchen, I accidentally cut my hand. Blood gushed out for quite a while before I reacted and looked for a Band-Aid. Enduring the pain, I finished cooking three dishes and a soup. I rushed to deliver it to Arthur’s company before twelve. When the two young girls at the front desk saw me, they exchanged a knowing look. “Mrs. Vance, here to deliver lunch again? Mr. Vance is in a meeting.” “I’ll wait for him.” “Maybe you should just leave the food here. Mr. Vance has been quite busy lately, he might not have time.” “I’ll wait for him,” I stubbornly repeated. They curled their lips and ignored me. An hour later, Arthur finally stepped out of the elevator, Surrounded by a group of people in suits. Seeing me, he frowned and walked over. “Why are you here again? Didn’t I tell you to get a good rest at home?” He had a smile on his face, but his tone carried a faint hint of impatience. “I made your favorite crab-roe pork meatballs…” Arthur took the insulated bag and put his arm around my shoulder. “What happened to your hand?” He noticed the Band-Aid on my finger. “I accidentally cut it while chopping vegetables.” Arthur’s voice dropped: “You can’t even do such a simple thing right…” Noticing the gazes from the people around us, he immediately switched to a gentle tone: “You’ve worked hard, honey. You must be more careful in the future, okay?” At that moment, I felt very strange. I felt like an exhibit. Used to showcase Arthur’s “loving husband” persona to the public. 3 We ate lunch in Arthur’s office. He took a few bites and put down his chopsticks. “The meatballs are too mushy, the ribs are dry, and the asparagus is overcooked.” I nervously rubbed the hem of my shirt. “I’m sorry, I’ll pay more attention next time.” “It’s not about paying attention,” Arthur pulled a tissue and wiped his mouth. “It’s an attitude problem. I’m so busy with work every day. Is it too much to ask for a decent meal when I come home? Maya pulls all-nighters for projects, working non-stop, coordinating domestically and internationally. You just stay at home and do this little bit, and you can’t even do it right?” Maya. Maya Sullivan. It’s her again. My son had said something similar to me yesterday. I was tutoring him in math, but no matter how I explained it, I couldn’t make it clear. I was sweating profusely from anxiety. “Mom, you’re so stupid.” My son sneered and pushed the workbook away. “Last time Miss Sullivan explained a problem to me, I understood it immediately.” “Dad is right. You’re just not as smart as Miss Sullivan.” The words of a six-year-old child cut like a knife. When did this start? It seemed to be after Leo was born. My brain felt like it was getting worse and worse. Papers that I used to memorize after one read, I now had to read over and over again, and I would still forget them right after. Math problems that I used to solve effortlessly, I now stared at for ages without a clear line of thought. The doctor said this was due to hormonal fluctuations postpartum, a normal phenomenon. Arthur said I was just too anxious and needed to rest more. But I knew that wasn’t it. Something had been extracted from my body a long time ago. “The patient needs to rest. One family member is enough to stay and observe.” The nurse’s voice pulled me back to reality. Secretary Sullivan had already stood up, holding my son’s hand. “Mrs. Vance, I’ll take Leo to get something to eat first.” “You look terrible. Do you need me to order some food for you?” “I’m not hungry.” “Then we’ll be going now. Remember to let me know when Mr. Vance wakes up.” She gave me a deep look, unable to hide the smugness at the corner of her lips. “If Mr. Vance hadn’t shielded me immediately, I would be the one lying there.” I looked at Maya, this woman who thrived in Arthur’s company like a fish in water. Young, beautiful, smart, and capable. Everything I once possessed but now lost. She had it all. 4 The door closed, leaving only me and the unconscious Arthur. I stared at the ECG monitor, my mind beginning to wander. After failing the college entrance exam, my college applications were a complete mess. Eventually, I ended up at a local community college. Arthur went to a top university in New York. We started a long-distance relationship. He called me every week. In his words, he casually mentioned how heavy his coursework in New York was. How outstanding his peers were, and then he would change the subject: “But you wouldn’t understand this anyway.” “By the way, did you eat on time today? Don’t forget because of studying. That school of yours, there’s not much point in studying anyway.” During my three years of college, no matter how hard I tried, My grades remained mediocre. It felt like I had really become stupid. Later, Arthur successfully launched his startup. After graduation, I naturally joined his company. I held a token position as an administrative assistant. He said it would be easier to take care of me this way, saying my current state wasn’t suitable for a high-pressure job. Marriage, having a child, becoming a full-time stay-at-home mom. Eight years. I looked at the cut on my finger. The edge of the Band-Aid was already peeling up slightly, Revealing the pale flesh underneath. If the seventeen-year-old me saw the thirty-year-old me now, what would she say? That girl who once dreamed of joining the astrophysics department. Would she recognize this housewife who couldn’t even explain an elementary school math problem, Who was despised as stupid by her son, whose cooking was criticized by her husband, and who was looked down upon by his secretary? The ECG monitor suddenly emitted a low alarm. Arthur’s fingers twitched, his brow furrowed; it seemed he was about to wake up. In that moment, a sudden surge of hatred rose from the bottom of my heart. Like a trapped beast discovering it had been imprisoned for eight whole years. Discovering its claws and fangs had been pulled out one by one. Discovering its pride had been ground away little by little. Just to become an auxiliary piece that fit the “loving husband male lead” persona. My hand reached toward Arthur’s face, pausing in mid-air. Then, moving downward. Past his eyes, the bridge of his nose, his jaw. And gripped that oxygen tube. 5 “Arthur, do you remember when you transferred to our school in junior year?” “On the first monthly exam, you scored a 32 in math, and the teacher asked me to tutor you.” Arthur’s eyelids fluttered; he seemed to hear me. “I explained the problems to you, but your mind was elsewhere.” “You said, what’s the point of girls reading so many books? They’ll end up getting married anyway.” “At the time, I thought you were so shallow, so ridiculous.” My fingers tightened. “Now I understand, the ridiculous one was me.” I gave a hard yank. The oxygen tube disconnected. Arthur’s breathing suddenly became rapid, his chest heaving violently. The ECG monitor blared a piercing alarm. I watched Arthur struggle. Watched his face turn purple from oxygen deprivation. Watched his mouth unconsciously open and close. There was no fear, no regret, only a strange sense of satisfaction. It felt like I had finally pulled out a thorn that had been stuck in my throat for eight years, pulling it out with flesh and blood. The ECG line eventually flatlined. The walls of the hospital room began to distort, the fluorescent lights on the ceiling stretching into blurred bands of light. Time began to rewind. The smell of disinfectant was replaced by a faint, milky scent. 6 I sat on the bed in my bedroom, holding a soft infant in my arms. The baby had just finished feeding, his tiny hands tightly grasping my collar, sleeping soundly. This was when Leo had just turned one month old. The bedroom door was pushed open, and Arthur walked in holding a cigarette. It made me cough. “Don’t smoke in the house, the baby is still small.” Arthur clicked his tongue impatiently but still crushed the cigarette out in the ashtray on the nightstand. “My mom called today, said she wants to come over and help with the baby. I told her there’s no need, you’re just at home doing nothing anyway.” I looked down at the baby in my arms, my voice very soft: “I want to wait until Leo is six months old, wean him, and go back to work.” “Work?” Arthur looked as if he had heard a joke. “What can you do in your current state? Your memory is so bad. Last time I asked you to get a document from the company, you got the wrong one.” “Staying at home and taking good care of the baby is your most important job right now.” He lit another cigarette, this time sitting directly on the edge of the bed to smoke. The smoke billowed toward me. Little Leo squirmed uneasily in my arms, whimpering softly. Arthur blew out a puff of smoke, looking at me through the haze. “Is the money I make not enough to support you? Why must you go out and show your face in public?” “Do you know how fierce the competition is out there now? With your current condition, what kind of job could you possibly do well?” Ash fell onto the bedsheet, burning a tiny black hole. I watched that black hole expand continuously. Like a trapped beast, opening its massive maw. Wait, I remember I killed Arthur. In the hospital room, I pulled his oxygen tube. And then I returned here. “I’m talking to you, did you hear me?” Arthur frowned, reaching out to touch my face. “Postpartum depression still hasn’t cleared up? Should we go see the doctor again?” His hand froze in mid-air. I had already raised that ashtray. With all my strength, I smashed it viciously against his temple. 7 Arthur’s expression froze, his eyes widening in shock. He seemed entirely unable to comprehend what had happened. Blood flowed from his temple, Down over his eyebrow, into his eye. He opened his mouth but made no sound. His body fell backward, crashing heavily onto the floor, a large pool of fresh blood spreading. The world began to twist and spin again. The baby’s cries faded, the weight in my arms disappeared. The smell of blood was replaced by the fragrance of flowers. I stood in the middle of a lawn, wearing a pristine white wedding dress. Holding a bouquet of fragrant, blooming flowers. Time had rewound again. The young and handsome Arthur, dressed in a suit and tie, held the rings, a brilliant smile on his face. The officiant asked: “Miss Chloe, do you take Mr. Arthur Vance to be your wedded husband, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?” The eyes of all the guests were focused on me. Everyone’s face radiated with blessings and smiles. It was a perfect wedding scene. But the hand holding my bouquet was trembling. Not out of fear, but out of excitement. The pervasive sense of confinement that had followed me like a shadow for eight years—making me increasingly dull, increasingly submissive—was vanishing. My mind was clearer than it had ever been. Like a dense fog dispersed by a gale, I clearly remembered everything. How I had securely held the number one rank in my grade for three years of high school. I remembered the gold medal in the national physics olympiad. I remembered the dreams of the stars and the sea written in my notebooks. I remembered the absurd failure on the day the college entrance exam results were announced. I remembered the day Arthur transferred to our school. Speaking carelessly to me: “You’re the top student? You don’t look like much.” This wasn’t a love story. It was a meticulously planned theft. My life, my talent, my future. They were all altered by an invisible force, And grafted onto Arthur. The meaning of my existence was merely to serve as a footnote in his perfect life. To make the readers sigh: “Look, even the most outstanding, top-student female lead fell for him, willing to give up everything to support her husband and raise their child.” All the charm bestowed upon him was to gild his mediocre essence. 8 “I do not.” My voice echoed through the microphone to everyone’s ears. The smile on Arthur’s face froze. A collective gasp echoed from the guest seating. Arthur’s parents stood up abruptly, their faces extremely ugly. The officiant hurriedly tried to smooth things over: “The bride is too nervous and misspoke. It’s okay, let’s do it again…” “I do not want to marry Arthur.” I interrupted the officiant, articulating every word with absolute clarity. “Not today, not tomorrow, not in this lifetime.” Arthur reacted, stepping forward and grabbing my wrist. His grip was strong enough to crush my wrist bones. He forced a smile on his face. “Chloe, stop making a scene. So many people are watching.” “Let go,” I said. “Do you know what you are doing?” Arthur’s voice was very low, carrying a threat: “Hurry up and finish the ceremony. Whatever it is, we’ll talk about it when we get back!” The murmurs from the crowd grew louder. I looked at Arthur’s face, twisted with anger and embarrassment. And suddenly smiled. “Arthur, do you know why you were able to become the top scorer in the college entrance exam?” He froze. I leaned close to him. And said in a voice only the two of us could hear: “Because there was a thief.” “A thief who stole what was mine and stuffed it into your empty brain.” Arthur’s pupils shrank abruptly. The next second, I grabbed his tie backhandedly. And with all my might, I slammed him into the champagne tower next to us. Amidst the sound of shattering glass, the back of Arthur’s head hit the corner of the table hard. Blood and golden champagne mixed and flowed everywhere. Screams rose and fell around me. But I could no longer hear them. The world spun and inverted. The pristine white wedding dress was replaced by a blue and white school uniform. Time had rewound to the day the college entrance exam results were announced. 9 I stood on the roof of the high school building. The hot summer wind blew the hem of my shirt. A red banner hung at the school gate: “Congratulations to our student Arthur Vance for securing the top spot in the state sciences!” The sports field was buzzing with voices. Everyone was marveling at Arthur being a dark horse, a genius. The protagonist of their conversations stood opposite me, leaning against the roof railing, smiling brazenly. “Chloe, a bet is a bet. You are my girlfriend now.” He opened his arms to me, waiting for me to throw myself into his embrace with tears of gratitude. I looked at Arthur. Looking at this idiot forcibly elevated to the altar by the rules of the plot. Every ounce of his charm was built upon my plundered life. Arthur judged from on high: “You girls are all like this, lacking stamina. No matter how hard you try, you can’t compare to a boy putting in just a little effort.” “Look, I just casually studied and easily defeated you.” How ridiculous, how unscientific, how shameless. “Arthur.” I spoke calmly: “Do you believe in karma?” He tilted his head slightly, looking puzzled, “What?” “Things stolen must be returned one day.” I took a step forward. Arthur instinctively stepped back, his back hitting the roof railing. I reached out, but not to hold his hand. Instead, I pressed against his chest and shoved hard. Arthur’s smile vanished, replaced by pure terror. He flailed his arms wildly in the air, trying to grab something. But only air passed through his fingers. “Chloe, are you cra—” The voice abruptly stopped. The speed of the fall was very fast, so fast I could barely hear his shout. Immediately following were shrieks of horror exploding from below. I had already turned and left the roof. The world disintegrated behind me. The school building collapsed like a sandcastle, the sky shattered into pieces. Revealing the void of darkness behind it. Then, light flooded back in.

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My best friend’s brother was discharged from the military. Word was he got injured during a mission and lost his ability to have children. My best friend was sighing non-stop: “I’m happily child-free, and now my brother got injured. Looks like the mighty Hayes bloodline is going to die out with us! What a tragedy!” A few days later, I finally met this legendary tough guy. I was completely stunned. How does he look exactly like the guy I slept with a few years ago—the father of my child?! 1 “I blame my dad for giving us such unlucky names. I’m Hope Hayes, and my brother’s name is Hunter Hayes. With names like that, we were doomed to be hopeless hunters of love!” At the barbecue joint, my best friend Hope was hugging a beer bottle, howling like a banshee. “Originally, I was hoping he’d come back so I could set you two up, and my goddaughter Lily could officially become my niece.” “But what good is a man who can’t have kids? He’s basically useless. We’re such good friends, I could never do that to you!” Just as she was speaking, her phone rang. I glanced at the screen. Hunter. Hope was already passed out on the table, completely oblivious. I hesitated for a moment, but when the impatient ringtone sounded for the third time, I answered it for her. “Mom says if you aren’t dead, drag your ass home.” The voice was deep. Surprisingly pleasant. I pinched my inexplicably warm earlobe. “Hello, I’m Hope’s friend.” “We’re at a barbecue place. Do you have time to come pick her up?” Looking at my best friend’s state, it was going to be a struggle for her to get home on her own. I had drank quite a bit myself. It would definitely be easier if someone came to pick her up. Before the person on the other end could respond, my supposedly passed-out best friend suddenly sprang back to life. “Oh, my poor brother! Went to the military academy so young, he’s practically an old man now and still a virgin! And with his condition now, I’m afraid nobody will ever want him…” An eerie silence fell over the other end of the line. The sheer awkwardness made me sober up a bit: “She’s… really had a lot to drink.” “Address.” “South Loop, Number 8.” The call disconnected. 2 I had heard about Hope’s brother before. A tough guy with a will of iron. He had been her idol since childhood. But when we first met, her brother was already deployed on missions. I had never met him. It wasn’t until a week ago, when he was discharged, that I learned he had been severely injured. Seeing it was about time, I supported Hope and waited at the entrance. From a distance, I saw a black car approaching. A tall man stepped out. He was wearing sleek cargo pants, with broad shoulders and long legs. I couldn’t see his face clearly, only catching a glimpse of his sharp silhouette. At that exact moment, a video call came in. “Is it Lily?” Hope glanced blearily at my phone screen. “Calling this late… hope nothing’s wrong.” “You answer it, my brother is already here.” Saying that, she waved at the man approaching in the distance. I was a bit worried about my daughter, too. Not having time to greet the man, I quickly stepped to the side to answer the video call as he got closer. Almost instantly. Lily’s little face appeared on the screen. “Mommy!” Seeing the little girl smiling brightly, I finally let out a sigh of relief. “Why aren’t you asleep yet?” “I missed Mommy!” Then, my mom’s voice came through the phone. “I took her to the countryside to catch shrimp today, and she had too much fun. Refuses to sleep, insisting on video calling you. You’re still out? Why aren’t you home yet?” “I’m out hanging with Hope.” My mom took the kid back to our hometown for a few days, so I finally had some rare free time. “Is Auntie Hope there too?” Lily’s little face squeezed back into view: “Mommy, I want to talk to Auntie Hope!” I turned to look at the main entrance. Hope was already slung over the tall man’s shoulder, tossed like a sack of potatoes directly into the SUV parked nearby. Yes. Tossed. My mouth twitched. He really does have… the tough guy style. 3 Having Lily was an accident. Four years ago, I had just gone through a breakup. I went to a bar to drink my sorrows away and met a man. He was sexy and restrained. Every breath he took hit my aesthetic sweet spot perfectly. Riding the buzz of the alcohol, I slept with him. Surprisingly, we clicked incredibly well that night. Even now, I remember the slight shivers caused by his rough, large hands brushing over me. At the time, I thought maybe starting a relationship wouldn’t be so bad. I didn’t expect that when I opened my eyes the next morning, he answered a phone call and his expression instantly turned deadly serious. “Copy that. I’m on my way.” He quickly got up and got dressed. He jotted down a string of numbers on a piece of paper: “I have an emergency mission right now. You can reach me at this number.” Throughout the entire thing, I didn’t even know his name. I originally thought our paths would never cross again, but a month later, I found out I was pregnant. Out of sheer desperation, I called that number. No one answered, several times. I figured I had been scammed. He probably wasn’t interested, made up an excuse to leave, and gave me a fake number so I wouldn’t cling to him. Due to health reasons, I ended up keeping the baby. But I never regretted that decision. Lily is sweet and smart, and I’m incredibly grateful for her company all these years. Early the next morning, my best friend sobered up and called me to complain. “My brother is so rough, he bruised my arm! Let me tell you, never look for a guy like him, he definitely has violent tendencies…” Before she could finish, a deep, warning voice came from her end: “Hope.” Hope immediately shut up, then, remembering something, her voice turned sycophantic: “Brooo, are you free this afternoon? Want to help my friend move some inventory?” “No.” “Awesome!” Hope completely ignored what her brother said, telling me, “I found you some muscle! He’ll help you move your stuff this afternoon.” “No, no, it’s fine. I can handle it myself this afternoon.” “We’re basically sisters, don’t be shy! He’s just sitting at home all day doing nothing anyway.” I originally thought my best friend was just joking. I didn’t expect her to actually show up that afternoon. Followed by a tall man. 4 I run a women’s lingerie boutique downtown. I’ve been managing it for years, and business is pretty good. I never hired any employees; I handle everything inside and out myself. Sometimes when it gets too busy, Hope comes over to help out. I was doing inventory in the afternoon when I heard people arguing outside. “The inventory you want me to move is women’s lingerie?” “So what if it’s lingerie? Do you go out without wearing underwear, Hunter? If you keep acting like this, I’m telling Dad you’re sexist!” “You feel like you haven’t been disciplined enough, don’t you?” The man’s tone was clearly impatient. “Are you saying you’d hit a woman? I’ll tell the whole world!” Seeing that the two of them were about to start fighting, I hurried outside. “It’s okay, it’s okay! There isn’t that much inventory, I don’t need this much help.” I looked up to apologize to my best friend’s brother: “I’m so sorry, Hope didn’t explain what kind of store this was and just dragged you over here. I…” Before I could finish, I got a clear look at his face. Chiseled features, handsome and sharp. A wave of pure testosterone hit me, rolling off his dark brown jacket. I completely forgot what I was going to say. The memories from four years ago came rushing back like a tidal wave. Fingers tangled in my hair, veins popping on his forearms, the heavy, forceful panting. I was shocked that I remembered every single detail so vividly. “Forget it, forget it. If you don’t want to help, then leave. Don’t stand there with a sour face acting like we’re begging you!” Hope rolled her eyes and linked her arm through mine. “Don’t apologize to him. He hasn’t been back in years, and now he doesn’t have an ounce of gentlemanly manners!” “Hold on.” The man blocked our path. His gaze was locked firmly on me. I suppressed the storm raging in my heart and pretended to look back calmly. He coughed lightly: “Where’s the stuff?” “What stuff?” “Didn’t you say you needed help moving inventory? Where is it?” 5 Hunter took off his jacket, revealing a plain black T-shirt underneath. He was incredibly strong. The heavy boxes looked like toys in his hands. He carried four or five boxes at a time. With him there, Hope and I instantly became beautiful, useless decorations. Hope stood to the side, sipping milk tea and scrolling on her phone. Commanding her own brother to do manual labor with absolute peace of mind. I hid in the storage room, pretending to be busy doing inventory. My heart was a complete mess. I never expected Lily’s biological father to be my best friend’s brother. So… does he remember me? He probably doesn’t, right? After all, it’s been so long… While my mind was racing, a male voice suddenly called out. “Everything outside is moved in.” “Ah, thank you!” The already cramped storage room felt even more crowded with a man inside. I instinctively took a half-step back, accidentally knocking over something next to me. The man bent down and picked it up before I could. “You dropped this.” In his hand was a black, bunny-ear lace bra. The thin straps dangled from his fingertips, creating a bizarre contrast with his stark, masculine presence. I remembered that night, what I was wearing seemed to be… My face instantly turned beet red, and the man’s dark eyes grew deeper as he stared at me. He suddenly leaned in close: “You seem very afraid of me. Why?” My breathing quickened, our gazes tangled together. With nowhere to hide, my brain short-circuited, and I suddenly blurted out: “Hope said you hit women!” Without waiting for his reaction, I squeezed through the gap beside him and rushed out. Hope, hearing the commotion outside, walked over. “Hit women?” “Which son of a bitch dares to hit women?!” Hunter’s face grew even darker. “If you say one more word, I might actually hit you.” Thanks to Hunter, the moving process sped up dramatically. A job that was supposed to take until seven or eight o’clock was completely finished by four. Hope didn’t want to bother me further and dragged Hunter to leave. The tall, muscular man stood steadily in the middle of aisles filled with lingerie. “Is Boss Sarah so stingy she won’t even buy me a meal?” My cheeks flushed slightly: “I will! What do you guys want to eat?” Hope’s eyes widened in shock. “Hunter, how could you be so shameless? Making my friend pay for dinner, are you even human?” “You guys pick the place, I’m paying.” “That’s more like it!” My best friend was finally satisfied. She hooked my arm and lowered her voice. “My brother actually has quite a bit of money. It’s rare for him to bleed cash. Think hard about what you want to eat, and absolutely do not hold back!” I don’t know if it was intentional or not. But the place they finally chose. Was right next to the bar where Hunter and I first met. Both Hunter and I aren’t very talkative. Thank god my best friend was there to liven up the atmosphere, so it wasn’t too awkward. But I could constantly feel Hunter’s gaze, subtle but present, resting on me. With an undisguised, burning intensity. Suddenly, my phone rang. My best friend immediately leaned over to look at the screen: “Is it Lily? I haven’t seen her in so long, I miss her so much!” The expression of the man across the table instantly became incredibly weird. It wasn’t until I stepped outside to answer the phone that I heard his deep voice. “She’s… married?” 6 Hunter’s words immediately triggered a backlash from my best friend: “What do you mean by that? Can’t someone have a kid without getting married? You’re such an old-fashioned boomer!” “Not married, huh?” Hunter’s posture returned to its original relaxed state. He leaned back in his chair, took a sip of tea, and the corners of his mouth turned up. “That’s good. Have you met the guy? What’s his background?” My best friend stared at him, her expression slowly turning weird. “Bro, honestly, your secret joy is a bit too obvious. Just because you can’t have happiness anymore, doesn’t mean you can’t stand seeing other people happy, right?” Hunter: ? My best friend continued: “When Sarah gets back later, absolutely do not bring up Lily’s dad. I suspect the reason she hasn’t dated anyone in all these years is because she still hasn’t gotten over that scumbag.” Hearing this, the smile on Hunter’s face slowly vanished. It wasn’t until the siblings finished their loud gossip that I found an appropriate moment to sit back down. I had never told Hope the details about Lily’s dad. First, because when we met, Lily was already born. Second, because I felt I would never see him again, so there was no need to talk about it. I just vaguely said that after I got pregnant, I lost contact with the father. But Hope must have misunderstood. She assumed he was a massive scumbag who abandoned me. Out of consideration for my feelings, she never explicitly asked about it. And now, things were awkward. Although lying to my best friend isn’t great, I didn’t dare casually reveal Lily’s parentage to them right now. After all, I didn’t know Hunter. If things went south, it would ruin my friendship with Hope as well. That night, Hope and I drank. Hunter voluntarily took on the role of designated driver. As the car headed north, Hope pressed her face against the window: “Wrong way, wrong way! Sarah’s house isn’t in this direction!” “I’m dropping you off first. I have somewhere to go later, I’m not going home.” Hearing this, Hope got annoyed and muttered: “If I knew you weren’t going home, I wouldn’t have let you drive us. Sarah and I could have found another spot to keep drinking.” Hunter glanced at her but didn’t say anything. The car stopped smoothly at the Hayes residence. Hope got out reluctantly. I felt awkward being alone with Hunter, so I also prepared to get out. “It’s not far from my place from here. I can just take a cab. Since you have things to do, I won’t bother you…” “It’s no bother. It’s on my way.” My best friend nodded: “Exactly! Just let him drop you off. It’s not like whatever he’s doing this late at night is anything important anyway!” Declining again would seem too deliberate, so I could only gladly accept his offer. “Where to?” “Happy Road Apartments.” The man glanced at me through the rearview mirror, his eyes holding a smile: “Don’t want to keep drinking? I can take you now.” “No, no, Hope was just joking earlier.” I thanked him politely. “Thank you both so much for today. I really troubled you.” “Being so polite, treating me like a stranger?” I didn’t expect him to ask so directly, and my breathing instantly quickened. Before I could answer, he stated confidently: “You remember.” “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Liar.” The man lowered his voice. “Didn’t Hope tell you what I used to do? I’m best at analyzing emotional states by listening to breathing.” Hearing this, I instinctively held my breath. He ended up laughing out loud: “I made that up.” “Hunter!” “That’s more like you. You were acting way too tense when you saw me today.” Afraid of giving anything else away, I didn’t dare say another word for the rest of the ride. 7 Thankfully, Hunter didn’t tease me anymore on the way. After getting home, I played a round of games with Hope online. Only then did I slowly take a shower. While hanging up my laundry, I accidentally glanced out the window and noticed the SUV that dropped me off was still parked in the exact same spot downstairs. After debating for a long time, I threw on a coat and went down. The car was still running. I tapped on the window. “Hunter?” The window rolled down, revealing the man’s resolute face. “Did the car break down?” “No.” “Then why haven’t you left? Didn’t you say you had plans to meet friends later?” “I don’t have plans. It was just an excuse to drop you off alone.” The air stilled, and I pursed my lips. I don’t know why, but a long-hidden anger rushed to my head: “Do you just really like making up excuses?” “What do you mean?” “You know exactly what I mean.” After saying that, I turned to leave. He frowned and grabbed my hand: “Explain yourself.” “Emergency mission.” Only then did he remember the words he said to me years ago. His voice was raspy: “I didn’t lie to you. It really was an emergency notification that time. I had just gotten home on leave when a sudden disaster occurred. I was out doing relief work the entire time.” “What about the phone number? No one answered that number at all!” “During missions, our phones are all confiscated…” Before he could finish, he realized: “You tried to find me?” I turned my head away, unwilling to admit it at this moment. “You really tried to find me.” A look of intense regret flashed across Hunter’s face. “I didn’t expect the mission to last that long. I should have proactively asked for your contact info.” The past is the past. There’s no point in arguing about it now. “Since you’re fine, I’m heading back up.” “Don’t go yet.” Hunter pulled me back, his large hand completely enveloping mine. “Hope said you still haven’t forgotten him?” “Who?” “That scumbag.” It took me a while to realize he was talking about Lily’s dad. My expression grew complicated, and I vaguely replied: “It’s not what you guys think. Actually… he’s not that bad.” As soon as I finished speaking, his brows instantly furrowed into a straight line. “As expected, you’re still defending him even now.” “I’m not.” “Forget him. From now on… there will be someone who treats you well.” I wanted to say something else, but he squeezed my hand firmly and then let go. “I don’t want to push you. It just feels a bit surreal running into you again, I need a moment to process it.” “It’s getting late, go back and rest.” I opened my mouth but ultimately didn’t say anything. I dreamt again that night. I dreamt of being held in Hunter’s arms, his teeth gently grazing the base of my ear. In the dream, I was like a small boat, rising and falling with the turbulent waves. I don’t know how much time passed, but my phone vibrated a few times. I blearily glanced at the screen and realized it was already late morning. Opening the chat, I saw a string of messages from my best friend. 【Extra, extra! My brother didn’t come home last night!】 【My mom is already burning incense to the Buddha, praying that he spent the night at a woman’s house.】 【Did the ancient iron tree finally blossom? Tsk tsk, do you think the other person knows he’s a barren fig tree?!】 What iron tree, what fig tree? I hadn’t fully processed it yet. More messages came in. 【I think I already guessed whose house my brother stayed at.】 I suddenly grew tense. 【Who?】 【Chloe.】 The unfamiliar name made me breathe a sigh of relief, but also left me stunned. Hope explained: 【A classmate from his combat training class back in the day. She’s incredibly badass; her combat skills are on par with my brother’s.】 【You don’t know this, but even though my brother looks rebellious, he actually has a moral cleanliness obsession. I’ve never seen him get close to any girl. The only one he hung out with was Chloe!】 【Since he got back, he’s only been in touch with her. If it’s not her, who else could it be?!】 Last night he said he had no plans. And now he stayed out all night. And suddenly a female classmate with shared interests pops up beside him. I couldn’t describe what I was feeling right now. It felt like someone had grabbed my heart and squeezed it hard, but there was also a sense of relief, like surviving a disaster. Good thing I didn’t tell him about Lily’s parentage, otherwise it really would have just added unnecessary trouble.

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During the year my boyfriend was at his absolute poorest, I broke up with him. Later, he achieved success and fame, and used every means possible to marry me. Everyone said I was the love of his life, his most cherished wife. Until later, when he brought a different woman home every night, breaking my heart, turning me into a laughingstock in our circle. And I neither cried nor made a scene, quietly staying in the study, never disturbing his affairs. He went mad with anger, kissing my lips fiercely, asking in a low voice: “Aren’t you jealous?” He didn’t know I was sick. Every day he sought his crazy revenge on me, I was silently counting down how many days I had left to live. 1. In the third year of my marriage to Arthur, he took a young, beautiful college student as his mistress. The girl’s name was Mia, she looked pure and cute, exactly the type Arthur liked a lot. Arthur kept her for over half a year. Besides me, she was the woman Arthur kept by his side the longest. Friends advised me to be careful. They all said Arthur seemed to have developed real feelings for Mia. The first time I met Mia was on my birthday. I had been having nosebleeds since morning. I went to the hospital for a checkup, and the doctor said I would probably only live until next spring. I nodded gently and whispered, it’s okay. I wasn’t afraid of dying, but I was a little afraid of pain. I heard there was a very expensive medicine that could make me live a bit more comfortably. There wasn’t enough money in my bank account, so I went to Arthur’s company to find him. I happened to run into Mia there; she had just graduated and was working as Arthur’s secretary. Arthur was in a meeting, so I sat outside waiting. Mia kept staring at me, secretly whispering to the colleagues around her: “Is that the boss’s wife? She’s so ugly, all dried up, looking like she’s about to die.” “You all say I look like her, where’s the resemblance? I’m way prettier than her.” The bright glass reflected my image: no makeup, bundled in a bulky down jacket. I really wasn’t pretty, and I really was about to die. A colleague pulled Mia back and whispered, “That’s just because she isn’t dressed up. If she put on some makeup, ten of you combined wouldn’t be as pretty as her.” “Also, don’t provoke her just because the boss spoils you.” “You don’t know how much the boss loves her. If you make her unhappy, be careful the boss doesn’t kill you.” 2. Hearing that Arthur loved me very much, Mia pouted unconvinced and rolled her eyes at me. She brought me a cup of tea, asking in a soft, delicate voice: “Chloe, how could the boss bear to make you wait this long?” “So strange. Before, whenever I came to see him, no matter how busy he was, he would always keep me company first. He said I was the most important.” “I thought he was this considerate to other women too…” She curved her eyes and smiled sweetly; the way she smiled looked very much like me when I was younger. I thought about it, Arthur and Mia were indeed different. He had countless mistresses, using them as tools to spite me, bringing a different woman home every night, testing my reaction time and time again. Arthur never tangled with them for long, maybe a day or two, maybe a couple of weeks, he always got bored quickly. Only Mia, Arthur kept her on the outside, accompanying her to dinner, shopping, and movies. They were like an ordinary, loving couple. Arthur gave her money, and also gave her love. I looked at Mia, smiled at her, and gently asked: “Since you are so important, how can Arthur bear to make you a shameful mistress?” “You should talk him into divorcing me sooner and marrying you.” Mia’s face instantly changed. Angered out of embarrassment, she cursed me in a low voice: “The unloved one is the mistress, you are the redundant one!” “Aren’t you just relying on having met Mr. Vance a few years earlier than me? But look at you now, old and ugly, what do you have to compete with me…” Her colleague was probably afraid I would get angry, and quickly came over to grab her arm, trying to pull her away. Actually, I was fine with it. I had long ago promised myself that I wouldn’t get angry for Arthur, nor would I be sad for him. Even less would I fight with other women out of jealousy over him. He wasn’t worth it. 3. Mia was yanked back by someone, lost her balance, and fell to the ground. The teacup in her hand shattered, leaving a deep gash on her palm, blood spilling all over the floor. Through the glass of the conference room, Arthur saw the injured Mia. With everyone watching, he threw down the documents in his hand, pushed the door open, walked over, and scooped Mia into his arms. He cursed coldly: “Who the fuck hurt her?” The well-meaning colleague backed away two steps, pale with fear. I sneered and said: “I did it, and she deserved it.” Mia glared at me through her tears, shouting loudly: “Yes, I deserved it! Who asked me to fall in love with someone I shouldn’t have, getting cursed at as a homewrecker and a mistress.” “But Mr. Vance, as long as you love me too, I want to stay by your side for the rest of my life. No one can separate us.” She cried so adorably, even saying such absurd things seemed brave and resolute. Arthur was amused by her, raised his hand to wipe away her tears, coaxing her: “Be good, you’ve cried so much you look like a little kitten.” He really treated her differently. I lowered my eyelids, too lazy to look anymore, and only said to Arthur: “For my birthday this year, I want fifty thousand.” It sounds funny, we were husband and wife, yet we didn’t even have each other’s contact information. Except for asking for money, I never sought him out on my own. Before we got married, we had an agreement. He wanted my person, I wanted his money. Arthur always hated that I was a gold digger. But in the past, whenever I asked, no matter how much money, he would give it to me, always more, never less. Only this once, he looked at me with a smile, smiled very coldly, and said slowly: “You want money, sure.” “But, Chloe, lower your noble head first and say sorry to Mia.” Arthur wanted to use two hundred thousand to buy my pride and buy an apology for Mia. This was the first time he humiliated me with money for another woman. I slowly clenched my fists and smiled softly. Enduring the sudden surge of pain in my body, I turned and walked away. The money, I don’t want it anymore. I’m suddenly very curious, Arthur. If one day, you knew this money could have let me live a little longer, knew how much I suffered before I died. What expression would you have? 4. I went home alone, curled up painfully under the covers, sweating cold sweat from the pain. Taking some sleeping pills, I lied to myself. Once I fall asleep, it won’t hurt anymore. In a groggy state, I had a dream. I dreamt of when I was twenty, Arthur was very poor, but he loved me very much. That year on my birthday, passing by a cafe, I saw a couple sitting by the glass window. The girl held a pristine white little cake in her hand, looking very delicate, very delicious, and also very expensive. I still remember, it was snowing heavily that day. I held a small pile of snow, smiled at Arthur, and asked him: “Arthur, look at this pile of snow, does it look like a cake?” Arthur gritted his teeth, reached out to hug me tightly, not letting me see his secretly reddened eyes. Three days later, he appeared downstairs at my dorm holding a large cake. Buying a whole cake cost $35. And he stood on the wind-blown, snowy street, handing out three thousand flyers, just to earn $15. I looked at the chilblains on his fingers and cried uselessly. Looking up at him, I yelled: “Arthur, your hands can be used for reading, for writing, but you ruin them just to make me happy.” I said, I was completely unworthy of such an expensive cake… Arthur frowned and immediately refuted me. He said: “Chloe, you are the best girl in the world. You deserve all the good things in this world.” That day, I cried while eating the whole cake. It’s been a long time, I can’t even remember its taste anymore. I only know that since that day, I don’t think I’ve ever eaten a cake that tasted better than it. I slept for a long time. Groggily, I heard my phone ringing. Answering the call, I heard Arthur calling me from the other end: “Chloe.” I smiled softly and called him sweetly: “Arthur, it’s snowing heavily, I want to eat cake.” Without waiting for him to speak, I rolled over and fell back into a deep sleep. 5. I slept all the way until midnight when I was woken up by hunger. I went to the living room to find something to eat, only to discover Arthur had actually come back. He had bought a large house for Mia. They lived there together. Mia would cook for him, make him happy, and wait for him to come home. Arthur was doing very well, he hadn’t come home in a long time. He leaned lazily against the floor-to-ceiling window, a cigarette in his mouth, staring intently at me. With downcast eyes, I walked past him, only to be grabbed by him. He frowned, asking me softly: “How did you lose so much weight?” His tone was gentle, as if he still loved me very much. I froze for a moment, shook off his hand hard, and cursed him: “Arthur, are you crazy?” He looked at his empty hand, his face slowly turning cold. When I walked over to the dining table and saw a cake covered in candles, I realized that the phone call hadn’t been a dream. I said I wanted to eat cake, and Arthur went and bought it. What was this? Suing for peace? But I was already dying. I didn’t need a cake anymore, and I didn’t need Arthur anymore. I grabbed the cake and threw it into the trash can. Arthur gritted his back teeth, reached out, and pinned me against the wall. He cursed viciously: “Chloe, are you fucking playing me?” I smiled and admitted it: “Arthur, I am playing you, so what?” “I say I want cake, and you go buy cake. Why are you still as pathetic as before?” I deliberately stabbed at his heart, watching Arthur’s face turn completely cold. He ruthlessly put out his cigarette, dragged me into the bedroom, and threw me onto the bed. Arthur was probably mad with anger. He acted like an out-of-control beast, roughly tearing open my nightgown. I was scared, clenching my fists to hit him: “Arthur, you bastard! Don’t touch me! You disgust me!” He pinned my legs down to stop me from struggling, lowered his head, and bit my neck, the pain bringing tears to my eyes. He pressed against my ear and cursed me: “Chloe, would it kill you to soften up to me?” “Do you know how many years I’ve waited for you to coax me?” “Do you know how happy I was when you told me you wanted cake?” “And then you fucking treat me like a fool?” He looked up, staring at me with bloodshot eyes. I held back my tears and glared back. In the dim room, neither of us spoke, neither willing to admit defeat first. Arthur leaned down, getting closer and closer to me. Just as he was about to kiss my lips, his phone suddenly rang. It was Mia calling. Arthur paused but still answered it. I heard Mia crying and asking him: “Mr. Vance, are you really not wanting me anymore because of Chloe? You clearly like me.” “I’m at a bar right now, I drank a lot, and a man is harassing me…” “I’m so scared. Come pick me up and take me home quickly, okay?” Arthur didn’t speak. He just stared at me, smiling coldly, and softly commanded me: “Chloe, beg me.” “Beg me to stay. As long as you beg me, I won’t go.” He seemed to have forgotten. A long time ago, I had also put down my pride and begged him: “Arthur, can we have a calm and peaceful talk?” “Can we stop fighting?” “Can we just be good to each other?” “Can you treat me a little better?” That day, Arthur stared at me coldly, smiled, and said: “Chloe, you don’t deserve it.” Those three words had always pierced my heart. Until today, I could finally return them verbatim. I grabbed his collar, enunciating each word clearly: “Arthur, you don’t deserve it.” Arthur was silent for a moment, then suddenly laughed self-deprecatingly. He brought the phone to his ear and told Mia: “Wait for me to take you home.” Without sparing me another glance, he got up, slammed the door, and left. 6. The next day, photos of Arthur getting into a fight with another man over Mia spread through our circle. This was the first time his affairs with other women became widely known. Several reporters were waiting at my door. When I went out, they harassed me with endless questions. Arthur’s company had grown rapidly in recent years, gaining a lot of influence in Capitol City circles. He was young, wealthy, and handsome, very famous online, and frequently trended. A girl asked me: “Mrs. Vance, what do you have to say about the incident between Mr. Vance and Mia?” I kept walking, not even turning my head as I asked her back: “One is a man who cheated during his marriage, and the other is a woman who knowingly became a mistress. What do you expect me to say?” The girl chased after me, continuing to ask: “But I heard that when Mr. Vance was at his poorest, you dumped him for money.” “Later, when he became successful, you emotionally blackmailed him and used every means to marry him…” “Now that Mr. Vance has found true love, and he and Mia are a perfect match, it’s you who insists on occupying the position of Mrs. Vance, and you even call her a mistress.” “Don’t you think you’re bullying people?” I stopped, looked back with a sneer, and grabbed the press badge on the girl’s chest. She was an intern reporter, and the back of her badge holder also had a student ID from South Mountain University. I calmly asked her: “You’re Mia’s friend, right?” “Back then, Arthur used unscrupulous means to marry me. Did you really think I wanted to marry him?” “Everyone in our circle knows this. Are you telling me you don’t? Or did you come here specifically to sling mud at me just to help your little friend take my place?” Her expression changed. She snatched her badge back nervously and defended herself righteously: “I am her friend, but I am a reporter, and everything I say is objective and fair.” “If you really didn’t want to marry Mr. Vance, and now he loves someone else, why don’t you divorce him?” I smiled, just about to speak, when my nose suddenly started bleeding again, making me look a mess. Someone laughed at me, saying: “Mrs. Vance says she doesn’t care and was forced to marry Mr. Vance, so why are you so anxious and angry that your nose is bleeding?” I reached out a fingertip and wiped away the blood that had fallen on my lip. I said calmly: “I’m not angry, I’m just sick. I’m dying. I’ve been getting nosebleeds a lot lately.” The crowd suddenly went quiet, and everyone stopped laughing. Only that girl continued: “Stop pretending. You get a nosebleed and start playing sick and playing the victim.” “I really can’t stand women like you. Fighting over a man all day, threatening suicide, using all sorts of shameless tricks. You’re a disgrace to women.” After saying that, she tossed her ponytail and walked away. Her back, just like Mia’s, was infuriating. 7. The video of me being surrounded and interviewed by reporters quickly started trending. Arthur responded directly. He said: “I will never get a divorce. Stop bothering my wife.” That afternoon, Mia’s reporter friend was fired. Many netizens cursed me: “This woman is so disgusting. If she doesn’t want to be married, then don’t be. Acting like someone held a knife to her neck to force her, pretending to have no choice.” “She even claims to be Boss Vance’s one true love. I think she’s just a manipulative ‘white lotus’.” “Boss Vance defends her so much, I’m getting jealous…” “And this woman dumped CEO Vance for money in the past, and now married him for money.” “Her saying she doesn’t want to is just playing hard to get, being a hypocrite.” Suddenly, a netizen interjected: “Keep your mouths clean. If you don’t know the truth, then shut the fuck up.” Everyone started chasing him, asking, what is the truth? The truth, when told, is actually quite cliché. That year, my mom was diagnosed with a terminal illness. The doctor said the genetic probability of this disease was very high. Not only could I be struck by serious illness at any time, but if I married and had children, my kids would probably also face the risk of getting sick. The day my mom got sick, she bled a whole basin of nosebleeds. She lost too much blood and was in a coma for three days. After she woke up, she told me to break up with Arthur. I stared at her blankly, whispering: “Mom, he won’t despise me.” It was as if I was saying it for my mom to hear, but also for myself. My mom gently held my hand, nodded, and said: “Mom knows, he’s a good boy.” She paused, smiling as she said: “You two have been dating since high school. He rides his bike to wait for you at the alley entrance every morning, did you think I didn’t know?” “Once I saw him buy a meat bun for your breakfast.” “He only had a dollar twenty in his pocket. The meat bun cost a dollar, and with the remaining twenty cents, he bought two cups of soy milk. One for him, one for you.” “You were so greedy and clueless then. He lied and said he had already eaten, and you believed him, happily eating the meat bun.” “Little Arthur was so pitiful back then. His parents divorced, no one wanted him, and they only gave him a tiny bit of living expenses every month. He lived like an orphan.” “A dollar twenty was probably his living expenses for the whole day. He didn’t even think about it, just spent it all on you.” “At the time, I felt my daughter was so lucky to have found such a good boy.” “He’s a good student, a good person, good in every way.” “It’s precisely because he’s so good that Mom’s heart aches for him.” That year, Arthur’s grandmother also fell ill and was hospitalized. He grew up with his grandmother and they were very close. To pay for his grandmother’s medical treatment, he was overwhelmed with busyness every day. My mom said Arthur’s wings were too thin. Carrying his grandmother, and then carrying me, he wouldn’t be able to fly. I pinched my palms, and after a long time, my voice trembling, I managed to say: “Mom… I can’t bear to let him go.” One sentence of “can’t bear to let go”, and tears fell like rain. 8. Things from ten years ago still make my heart ache when I think of them now. I bought persimmons, which were my mom’s favorite, preparing to go to the cemetery to see her one last time. I’m going to die soon, I need to tell her, and then, I won’t come again. Before going, I went to Arthur’s company first to get something from him. When my mom was still alive, she always liked Arthur. That year, before she got sick, Arthur and I still deeply loved each other. My mom went to the temple to pray and got two lucky dolls. Inside a boy lucky doll was Arthur’s birthdate, and inside a girl lucky doll was my birthdate. To protect our safety, health, and ensure that the two people in love could be together forever. My mom told me to give the dolls to Arthur. Arthur didn’t want his doll, insisting on taking mine. He said the girl doll with the red cheeks looked just like me, ugly-cute. He said looking at her was like looking at me. He liked looking at me. That lucky doll was still sitting on Arthur’s office desk to this day. I was afraid that after I died, Arthur would throw it away like trash. That was bought for me by my mom, I had to bring it back, put it in front of her tombstone, and let it keep her company for me. When I arrived at the company, Arthur was watching my video from this morning. In the video, I had a bloody nose and was saying I was dying. Seeing me, he tossed his phone aside, saying nothing, asking nothing. I looked at his desk; the spot where the lucky doll used to be was empty. Frowning, I asked him: “Where’s my lucky doll?” 9. Mia chased after me. Hearing me ask for the item, she said with a smile: “A couple of days ago I pricked my finger, and Mr. Vance felt very bad. He said he couldn’t bear to see me hurt, so he gave me that lucky doll.” “He also said that doll looks a lot like me, kind of clumsy, but he really likes it.” “Chloe, do you think he’s talking nonsense? I’m so pretty, I don’t look like that ugly doll at all…” I clenched my fists fiercely, glaring at Arthur, demanding: “What right do you have to give my things to someone else?” “That’s what my mom prayed for for me. What right do you have to give it to someone else!” He smiled, acting like a bastard to anger me: “That lucky doll was yours? Sorry, I forgot. I thought it was just some worthless junk…” Before he could finish, I picked up the ashtray on the desk and threw it at him. Arthur didn’t dodge. The crystal ashtray hit his forehead, drawing blood. Mia screamed and scolded me: “Are you crazy? Hitting someone over a broken doll!” She turned and ran out, returning quickly, clutching my lucky doll in her hand. She threw the doll at me, yelling: “Your thing, have it back!” “It’s a cheap piece of junk that no one cares about even if it’s thrown away. Did you think I’d covet it?” “Stop acting crazy, take your things and get out!” The ceramic lucky doll fell to the floor, shattering into pieces. I saw my name and my birthdate broken into several pieces, just like my life, probably never to be repaired. I suddenly felt that I really was going to die. But I didn’t want to die yet, I hadn’t seen my mom yet. I was afraid that if she didn’t see me, she would keep waiting for me. My head buzzed. I raised my hand and slapped Mia, screaming like a madwoman: “That’s my mom’s thing! It hurts me! My heart hurts!” Before I could finish, my tears fell. I reached out to grab Mia, but Arthur grabbed my wrist and stopped me. My eyes burned. Staring fixedly at him, crying and crying, I started to laugh. I scolded him: “You know I’m dying, and you still bully me. Arthur, you really are a piece of work.” He raised his hand to wipe away my tears, asking in return: “First the cake, now you’re dying. Chloe, is playing me for a fool really that fun for you?” “You don’t need to cry for me to see, I won’t feel sorry for you anymore…” Before he could finish his sentence, a drop of blood suddenly fell, landing on the back of his hand. I got a nosebleed again. This time, it was worse than before. My legs went weak, my whole body aching so much I couldn’t stand, and I fell straight down. Arthur caught me, shouting: “Call an ambulance!” He was powerless, only able to watch as my blood flowed more and more, staining his white shirt red.

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My husband’s female colleague called again, deep in the night. Another body needed urgent cremation. Already exhausted from days of work, my husband got up and left without a word. He didn’t return until the sky was beginning to lighten. “Audrey was swamped. Good thing I was still awake.” I didn’t respond. I just stared at the ceiling. He wrapped his arms around me from behind, his voice a soft murmur. “I know I’ve been neglecting you lately, but it’s my job. I had to go.” “How about we take a trip after this busy stretch? Just you and me.” I remained silent, pulling away from his embrace. My voice was cold when I finally spoke. “Let’s get a divorce.” … Finn’s hands froze. He forced me to face him, his grip firm on my arms. The skin under his eyes was bruised with the dark shadows of sleepless nights. “Quinn, don’t be like this… I know you’re tired. I’m tired, too.” “But this is my duty. You understand that, don’t you?” I avoided his gaze and pulled my hands free. His voice trembled, but he tried to keep it soft. “Is this because I haven’t been home for dinner? Or… because I forgot your birthday last month?” “I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry. Once I’m through this crunch, we’ll take a long vacation. Just the two of us, okay?” He stroked the back of my hand, the same way he always did to soothe me after a fight. I remembered our first year of marriage; I was miserable at work, suffering from insomnia, and he would sit with me just like this, never complaining, just whispering, “Quinn, I’m here.” Thinking about it now felt like a cruel joke. “Don’t touch me,” I said. His hand froze mid-air, the exhaustion on his face morphing into bewilderment. “What’s wrong with you? Is it just because I had to go to work in the middle of the night again?” “Quinn, life and death are serious matters. If I don’t go, do you expect them to just leave a body lying there?” “I don’t care what you say. Divorce.” I repeated it. My voice wasn’t loud, but it was absolute. His eyes instantly turned red, as if he were seeing me for the first time. “You’re serious?” I turned my back to him. “Nine a.m. tomorrow. I’ll meet you at the courthouse.” Finn laughed, but it was a wounded sound. “Quinn, you have to give me a reason. Is it because of my overtime? Or do you think Audrey and I are…” “Leave her out of this,” I cut him off. “It’s you. You make me sick.” The color drained from his face. His lips trembled, but no sound came out. “Is that really what you think of me?” he finally choked out, his voice raw. “Audrey and I are just colleagues.” I didn’t want to hear any more. I got up, left the bedroom, and closed the door behind me. He didn’t follow. He didn’t try to explain further. I heard the sound of a glass shattering on the floor, followed by a muffled curse. A few moments later, my phone rang. It was Audrey. She was Finn’s senior from college. And his first love. The phone rang for a long time. Finally, I answered. Her voice on the other end was weary. “Quinn, Finn just called me. I wanted to explain…” “We’ve been taking on a lot of cases from the west side of the city recently…” I didn’t have the patience to listen. I hung up. I sat on the sofa, remembering six months ago. He had come home late from a work trip then, too, so tired he collapsed beside me without even taking off his clothes. He’d touched my face with his eyes closed and whispered, “Quinn, I’m so glad you’re here.” Back then, I really believed we could make it for a lifetime. The sun rose completely. When I woke up, Finn was gone. The living room was spotless. Even the jacket he’d worn last night was hanging neatly on the coat rack by the door. A glass of honey water sat on the coffee table, still warm. Next to it was a sticky note. Wait for me to get back. I’ll make you your favorite barbecue ribs. I picked up the glass, walked to the kitchen, and poured the water down the sink. My phone vibrated in my pocket. A text from him. Quinn, I’m at work. Did you drink the honey water? I didn’t reply. A few minutes later, another one came through. I’ll spend more time with you once this is all over. There’s really nothing between Audrey and me. I stared at the screen for a long time before typing out a single line. Nine a.m. Don’t be late. Then I blocked his number. At eight-thirty, I was standing outside the county courthouse. People came and went, mostly in pairs. Some were holding hands, whispering sweet nothings. Others stood apart, their faces grim. I leaned against a pillar, watching the street. Nine-thirty. He didn’t show. I took out my phone, unblocked his number, and called. It rang three times before he hung up on me. A surge of anger flared up. I redialed. This time, it went straight to a “number unavailable” message. I waited another half hour. Just as I was about to try again, a strange number called me. I answered. A young woman’s voice spoke rapidly. “Is this Mrs. Quinn Harris? This is City Central Hospital. Your husband, Finn Harris, was in a car accident. He’s in emergency surgery. We need you to come and handle the payment immediately.” I froze, the words not quite registering. The voice on the other end was still urgent. “Mrs. Harris? Can you hear me? Mrs. Harris!” I hung up and hailed a cab. By the time I arrived, Finn was out of surgery. A crowd was gathered outside his room. Several people in dark blue uniforms were huddled together, talking in low voices. One of them, a young woman, saw me and rushed over, her eyes red. “Where have you been! Do you have any idea that Finn was calling your name right before they took him into the OR?” “How is he?” I asked, my gaze fixed on the hospital room door. The woman’s eyes widened in disbelief, tears spilling down her cheeks. “What are you doing!?” I ignored her and walked towards Finn’s bed. He didn’t look too bad. One eye was swollen shut, but the other was fixed on me. “You’re here… Don’t worry, I’m okay.” I clenched my fists, then pulled the divorce papers and a pen from my briefcase. “Sign this. Otherwise, I’m not paying your medical bills.” My voice was flat, devoid of emotion. The people around us stared, mouths agape. The woman who had yelled at me earlier lunged forward and slapped me hard across the face. “Finn was on the phone with you when he got distracted and crashed!” she screamed. “And you’re using this to threaten him? Are you even human?!” Audrey’s face was grim as she put a hand on my shoulder. “Quinn, Finn and I are just colleagues. If you really don’t believe me, I can quit. But you can’t do this to him. He only has you in his heart.” My cheek stung. I violently shook her hand off. “Who asked you to speak?” I walked back to Finn’s bedside. “If you don’t sign, you can wait for the hospital to kick you out.” Tears streamed from Finn’s open eye. “Why?” I looked at him, my voice heavy. “Because you disgust me.” Finn’s sobs grew more intense, his chest heaving. “I won’t sign. I’d rather die than sign. I love you, Quinn. I haven’t done anything to betray you. I already bought the tickets to Aspen. You said you wanted to go skiing…” A few of the younger women in the room started to cry. A pang of pain shot through my own chest, but it was fleeting. Gritting my teeth, I held the papers out again. “Sign.” Audrey snatched the papers from my hand and ripped them to shreds. “Quinn! How could you? He just got out of surgery! Even if you want a divorce, you can’t do it like this!” I shot her a venomous glare. Before I could speak, Finn intervened. “Audrey, don’t talk to her like that. It’s my fault. I haven’t been a good husband.” He weakly reached out and tugged at the hem of my shirt. I instinctively took a step back. “Don’t touch me.” Finn’s face grew even paler. “I’m not divorcing you over something so trivial. I already requested my vacation time to spend with you…” Audrey stepped forward again. “I’ll just resign when I get back to the office. My conscience is clear. There is absolutely nothing going on between us.” Her righteous declaration instantly painted me as the hysterical, unreasonable wife. The others glared at me with indignation. I suddenly found the whole scene absurdly funny, but I couldn’t bring myself to laugh. After a long silence, I finally spoke. “You’re right. There’s nothing between you. I just don’t want to be married anymore, okay?” Finn looked at me, tears streaming silently down his face. “Quinn, whatever it is, can we please just talk about it after he’s recovered? I’m begging you,” Audrey pleaded, her voice low and earnest. I ignored her, my eyes fixed on Finn. “Sign, or I walk out of here right now. Your choice.” The woman who had slapped me lunged forward again, but someone held her back. “Are you a monster?! He just cheated death! How can you provoke him like this?!” “It’s his life,” I said, my voice calm, almost bored. “It has nothing to do with me.” Finn started coughing violently, his chest rising and falling in ragged gasps. Audrey quickly pressed the call button. A nurse hurried in, frowning at the scene. “The patient needs to rest. Family members, please control your emotions.” A dead silence fell over the room. Finn stared at me through clenched teeth, but he still didn’t give in. “I’m calling our parents,” I said. “Do what you want.” With that, I turned and walked out. I walked in a daze until I found myself at the funeral home where Finn worked. “Are you Quinn?” An older man I didn’t recognize approached me. “You know me?” I asked. He scratched his head, hesitating. “Mr. Harris has a picture of you as his phone’s wallpaper. I’ve seen it.” I forced a smile. “Can you show me where Finn usually works?” He sighed. “Come on, I’ll take you.” The room was cold. I looked around, tapping on surfaces, and accidentally kicked a lighter. It was a brand I’d once mentioned to Finn. I remembered Audrey having one just like it. The older man spoke up. “Last night, Finn really was handling an emergency. I shouldn’t be meddling, but he’s a good man.” I didn’t say anything. My phone rang. It was Finn’s colleague. “Quinn! Where the hell are you? Both of your parents are here! Get your ass back to the hospital!” “Did you hear me?!” I clutched the lighter, my heart a frozen wasteland. When I got back to the hospital, both sets of parents were there, their faces grim. The moment I walked in, my father slapped me.

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My life at thirty was a train wreck. I quit my job after being passed over for a promotion, and my CEO boyfriend and I broke up right after he proposed. I couldn’t even face going home for the holidays. Then, on the darkest day of my life, I met my eighteen-year-old self. I thought she’d be utterly disappointed in me. Instead, she shrieked with excitement. “You’re so rich you can just buy whatever you want!” “Oh my god, you even slept with a guy that hot!” “You’re so awesome! Wait, no, I’m so awesome!” “Future Me, are you living the dream or what?” 01 The biggest fight of our lives erupted right after my CEO boyfriend, Dominic, proposed. “You knew who I was from the start, didn’t you?” he said, his voice cold. “Failing to get that promotion is about your performance. What does that have to do with me?” The absurdity of it stole my breath. How could it not have to do with him? Everyone at the company knew office relationships were forbidden territory. To protect his authority, I had agreed to be a ghost, pretending we were practically strangers even if we ran into each other right outside the office building. But him? My voice trembled with rage. “Dominic, when you made a show of having lunch with Isabelle in the company cafeteria, or when you took walks with her, did you ever once think about keeping your distance?” “Why do you think the senior managers gave Isabelle such high marks? Because they saw you two were close! They thought she was the one you were grooming, and they were all trying to kiss up to you!” Dominic’s brow furrowed, as if my logic was completely alien to him. “You’re being ridiculous. We’re colleagues. I can’t just ignore her, can I?” I sucked in a sharp breath, the air cold in my lungs. “The whole company is whispering that you’re promoting Isabelle, and you’ve said nothing. Meanwhile, I’m your fiancée, and I have to hide in the shadows like a thief.” “I landed our most difficult clients. I pulled all-nighters for weeks to meet the company’s core targets this year. My KPIs were double what was expected. And for what?” He shot back, his voice just as sharp. “I didn’t pull any strings for anyone. The promotion list was decided by a vote from the senior managers. I gave you a completely level playing field. It’s not my fault you didn’t seize the opportunity.” Staring at his self-righteous expression, the man before me felt like a complete stranger. A horrifying doubt began to creep in. Was it really true he hadn’t cheated? That he hadn’t given her a leg up? Dominic would never tell me. He would never explain, never apologize. “Let’s break up,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “And I’m quitting.” His face turned to stone. Three words escaped his lips, cold and final. “Suit yourself.” 02 The air was brutally cold the day I left Dominic’s apartment. I felt like a complete failure. I was thirty years old. My entire world had been tangled up with Dominic for so long. He had just proposed last month. I’d been at the company for eight years, on the cusp of building a reputation as an expert in my field. In a single night, it was all gone. I wandered the streets like a stray dog, spine ripped out, my eyes hollow and aimless. The clamor of a crowd drew my attention. A fight had broken out. “Hey! Officer! This guy’s drunk and he’s hitting his wife! Right here on the street!” a young voice pierced the noise. People were muttering, “What kind of man hits his wife?” but they all kept a safe distance, a circle of spectators unwilling to get involved. The man, reeking of alcohol, was still shouting. “It’s my right to discipline my wife! Nobody can tell me what to do!” In the center of the chaos, a young girl had a death grip on his arm. She was the one who had called the police and was refusing to let go until they arrived. “This chick’s a total badass,” she yelled. “Scumbags like him should be locked up, and she should divorce him ASAP!” I stood on the periphery with everyone else. My heart ached for the woman, but I wouldn’t step in. I wouldn’t get dragged into that mess. Society, and Dominic, had taught me well. Keep your head down, protect yourself, and mind your own business. But as I looked at the girl through the crowd, my heart skipped a beat, a hard, painful thud. Her face was so young, so defiant, so full of a reckless, beautiful ignorance of the world’s cruelty. It was, unmistakably, my face. At eighteen. As if she felt my gaze, the eighteen-year-old me whipped her head around. Our eyes met, and for a split second, she froze too. After she finished with the police, she rushed over to me. “You… you look just like me. What year is it?” “It’s 2037.” Her young mind processed it in a flash. “Whoa! Holy crap! I time-traveled! So this is what I look like at thirty!” She grabbed my freezing hand, her own full of life, and blurted out, “Future Me! What are the odds?” 03 We compared IDs. We verified family details. Slowly, I accepted the impossible reality. The younger me, whom I’ll call Anna, accepted it instantly. She latched onto me and wouldn’t let go. I never knew I was such a little firecracker at eighteen. She was a chatterbox, her words spilling out in an endless, energetic stream. “So, how much money do you have? Being thirty must be awesome. No more school, right?” “I have some savings, yes. And no more school.” “Wow! Whoa, that coat looks expensive! You’re so capable. Wait, no, I’m so capable.” I didn’t feel capable. I had to find a hotel for the night. I’d given up my old apartment when Dominic and I moved in together. He always said the housing market was unstable and buying wasn’t a smart move, so I still didn’t have a place of my own. My life had become so intertwined with his that now, without him, I was completely adrift. I’m sure Dominic knew that. He was waiting for me to be the first one to break. I was such a failure. The holidays were approaching, and I didn’t want to go home. How could I explain to my parents that the son-in-law they were expecting had vanished into thin air? But Anna was buzzing with excitement. “I’ve never been to a bar! Can you take me? It’s so weird, I just turned legal drinking age and then poof, I’m here!” Looking into her blazing eyes, I swallowed the bitterness of my own life. “Alright, let’s go to a bar. What else do you want to do?” “Ever stayed in a five-star hotel? I’ll take you tonight.” 04 Anna wanted a bar, so I took her to the one Dominic and I used to frequent. It was upscale, quiet, and good for conversation. I ordered Anna my favorite cocktail. Her eyes darted everywhere, filled with a boundless curiosity. “So what’s your boyfriend like?” she asked, the hundredth question in a long series. Just as I was about to give a noncommittal answer, I saw him. Dominic. Sitting by the floor-to-ceiling window, a thunderous look on his face. And next to him sat Isabelle. I pointed. “That’s my boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend, as of today. And he might be cheating on me with the woman next to him.” Anna’s eyes widened. “What the hell? Guys like that exist? I’m gonna go slap him!” I grabbed her arm, pulling her back. “Whoa, easy there, my little ancestor. Let it go. He’s a CEO, you can’t just pick a fight with him.” She looked at me in disbelief. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you living like such a doormat? He’s the one who cheated! He’s the one in the wrong!” I sighed, rubbing my temples. “We already broke up. Besides, they’re just having a drink. There’s no actual proof of anything. What right do I have to make a scene?” “And he’s a CEO,” I continued, “his reputation is everything. If you embarrass him now, he’ll make my life hell later…” “I’m gonna pour this drink all over him right now!” Anna declared. “I’ll demand to know what’s going on! What’s he gonna do, have me arrested? Is there no justice in the world?” It took all my strength to hold her back, to convince her not to do something reckless. I quietly explained the complicated web of our relationship. Dominic was my boss, then he became the CEO. We had been dating in secret. “When I was just starting out, Dominic taught me a lot. He was a mentor and a friend. Keeping it secret was for the best, for both of us.” “If our relationship went public, one of us would have had to leave. I want to stay in this industry, and everyone at the top knows Dominic. I don’t want to burn everything to the ground…” The world never knew. I had never officially stood by his side. Even when we were planning our wedding, there were no plans to go public. In public, we were strangers. While I was talking, Anna was busy snapping pictures and recording a video. “Seriously? That scumbag. So he can’t be seen with you, but he can get cozy with another woman? You’re not going to expose him?” 05 “Wait a second,” Anna said, her voice sharp. “Why is it that if you go public, you’re the one who has to consider quitting? Why doesn’t he step down? Has he brainwashed you completely?” The more she heard, the more she felt something was wrong. The more she saw me as a pushover. She pulled on a face mask, grabbed her cocktail, and, ignoring my protests, strode purposefully towards Dominic. She tipped the glass, pouring the sticky, colorful liquid all over his head. “You absolute scumbag,” she spat. Dominic froze, dripping. “What the…?” I rushed forward and grabbed Anna’s hand. Dominic’s gaze shifted to me, his brow furrowed in annoyance. “Is this a friend of yours? Did you put her up to this, to humiliate me in public?” Isabelle, seeing the dangerous glint in Dominic’s eyes, spoke up. “I understand,” she said, her voice soft and trembling. “My name was on the promotion list, and Anna’s friend is just upset for her. It’s only natural.” She bit her lower lip, looking fragile and timid. “But the company’s evaluations are completely fair and impartial. And Mr. Croft and I just happened to run into each other to discuss some work… Anna, how could you resort to such a vulgar tactic?” A sharp crack echoed through the quiet bar, cutting off her saccharine, victim-playing monologue. Anna had lunged forward and slapped Isabelle across the face. “You phony bitch, drop the act! You got what you wanted, so stop pretending to be innocent.” Isabelle shrieked, clutching her reddening cheek, and instinctively tried to shrink into Dominic’s arms for protection. “You… you hit me!” But to everyone’s surprise, Dominic didn’t embrace her. He irritably pulled his sleeve from her grasp and said coldly, “You should go.” Isabelle stared for a moment, then could only nod meekly. But as she turned her back to Dominic, she shot me a look over her shoulder. Her lips were curved into a provocative, victorious smirk. Anna saw it too. Her fury reignited, and she raised her hand to strike again. That’s when Dominic’s voice cut through the air, dangerously stern. “Anna, that’s enough! What’s gotten into you?” He had called out to both of us at once. Anna froze. And I stared at Dominic, my heart pounding. 06 Dominic had the owner clear the bar. I pulled Anna behind me, shielding her. This was the first time I had ever confronted him in public. “Was she wrong?” I demanded. “My performance was the best this year. I brought in the biggest deals. I drank so much for this company that I ended up in the hospital on an IV drip. And Isabelle gets the promotion and still plays the victim.” “And now you two are sitting here, having a drink. Doesn’t that just prove she’s your person? Are you protecting her?” The words were acid in my mouth, burning on their way out. Dominic’s dark eyes stared at me. “Is this promotion really that important? If you marry me, you can have anything you want. Why are you so obsessed with this one title?” “Isabelle’s promotion doesn’t get in your way. Why are you making such an unreasonable scene? If word of this gets out at the office, how am I supposed to maintain my authority?” “You’re thirty years old, not three. Can’t you think about the consequences?” “Then what were you two doing here just now?” I shot back. “Celebrating her promotion? Or celebrating your return to single life, toasting the fact that you can now chase after a younger woman?” He hated hearing things like that. “I am not cheating on you. We were maintaining a perfectly safe distance. Can you please drop your baseless jealousy?” He reached for me. “If you still want to marry me, come home.” He was always so damn commanding. I flinched away from his touch. Anna surged forward, planting herself between us. “Are you out of your mind? You let her get hurt because of some other woman? Why on earth should she marry you?” “And what ‘safe distance’? Have you heard of basic respect? You were practically on top of each other! A man and a woman, drinking alone together. I guess as long as you’re not caught in bed, it’s not cheating, right?” She lunged and slapped him. Caught off guard, he took the full force of it. His clothes were soaked, and now a red handprint was blooming on his cheek. The once-invincible CEO looked utterly pathetic. And through the sharp, stabbing pain in my chest, a laugh bubbled out of me. “Dominic,” I said, my voice surprisingly steady. “I mean it. Thank you for all your guidance in my career over the years. But I don’t want to marry you anymore.” “We’re over.” Leaving him there, a mask of pure shock on his face, I took Anna’s hand and walked away.

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My mother-in-law had a stroke and collapsed, blood pooling on the floor. I calmly grabbed a mop and cleaned the spreading stain. As her son-in-law, I deliberately let the golden six-minute window for stroke intervention pass. In my last life, I was the first to find her. I immediately called an ambulance and rushed her to the hospital. But the surgery required a signature from a direct family member. When I called my wife to come and sign, she accused me of being jealous of her time with her first love, convinced it was just a ploy to get her to come home. She refused to sign. My mother-in-law died without receiving timely treatment. My wife, Jessica, missed her mother’s final moments and pinned all the blame on me. When I wasn’t looking, she attacked me with a kitchen knife, hacking me to death. “This is all your fault! My mom was so old, and you, her son-in-law, couldn’t even take care of her! Since you failed your duty to her in life, you can go to hell and continue serving her there!” I opened my eyes and found myself back on the day my mother-in-law collapsed. … My eyes snapped open again, and there she was, lying on the floor. I’ve had a severe fear of blood since I was a child. My first instinct was to call my wife. But as I unlocked my phone, the memory of her slashing at me with that knife flooded my mind, vivid and inescapable. The phantom pain was still there. My finger froze. I stopped myself from calling Jessica and dialed her cousin, Rebecca, instead. She picked up almost immediately. “Honey, you have to come home! Mom fell, she’s bleeding from her head, there’s so much blood! What do I do? You know I can’t handle blood, please, come back quick!” I feigned panic, pretending I’d dialed the wrong number, my voice thick with a desperate, choked sob. “Don’t panic, I’m on my way,” Rebecca said, her voice calm and steady. Her house was close, less than a ten-minute walk away. Sure enough, less than five minutes later, there was a knock at the door. I threw it open, putting on a look of surprise. “Rebecca? I… I thought I called Jessica.” She didn’t explain, just told me to pick up my mother-in-law and follow her. By the time we reached the hospital, the blood had soaked through my shirt. “Who’s the patient’s next of kin? It’s an emergency, we need a signature from a direct relative!” a nurse rushed out of the ER, clutching a critical condition notice. “I’m her son-in-law, I’ll sign.” “No, it has to be a direct blood relative.” She then looked at Rebecca. “I’m her niece,” Rebecca explained. The nurse frowned. “Does the patient have any other family?” “Nurse, please, just start the surgery. I’ll contact the next of kin,” I pleaded. The nurse hesitated, then rushed back into the ER with the form. Right there, in front of Rebecca, I pulled out my phone and called my wife. The first call went to voicemail. The second call, the same. The third call finally connected. I put it on speaker, and Jessica’s impatient voice filled the hallway. “What is your problem? Are you trying to die? Stop calling me!” “Jessica, Mom fell. She’s bleeding a lot, and they need a signature from a direct relative. You need to get to Peace Memorial Hospital now!” The same cold indifference as last time. The image of her wielding that knife flashed in my mind, and my gaze turned to ice, but I kept up the act. Jessica shrieked into the phone. “If Mom fell, you take her to the hospital! Why are you calling me? I’m not a doctor! You know I’m with Ryan, so you’re just jealous and making this up, aren’t you? Well, it won’t work! Are you completely useless? Can’t you survive for five minutes without me?” Then, a soft male voice murmured in the background. “Jess, I’m scared…” Before I could say another word, she hung up. The strangers in the hallway were looking at me with pity. I clenched my fists so hard my knuckles turned white, forcing a bitter smile. Rebecca was furious, pacing back and forth in front of the ER. “Call her again!” she snapped. “I refuse to believe some man is more important than her own mother!” It was just like my past life, except last time, I had hidden in a stairwell to make the calls alone. This time, everyone here was my witness. I did as she said, dialing again in front of everyone. This time, it rang twice before being disconnected. When I tried again, I found she had blocked my number. On the outside, I looked devastated. Inwardly, a massive wave of relief washed over me. I collapsed onto a hallway chair. Rebecca kicked a nearby chair in frustration, then pulled out her own phone, her fingers trembling as she dialed Jessica’s number. I looked up at her, my face a mask of gratitude. The call connected instantly. Rebecca didn’t waste a second. “Jessica, I don’t care where you are or what you’re doing! Get your ass to Peace Memorial Hospital! Now!” The background on her end was noisy, like a party. “Becca? Wow, that Mark is really something else. He actually got you in on his little drama? I expect this nonsense from him, but you too? I’m busy right now, I don’t have time for these games! Every single time I come to see Ryan, he pulls a stunt like this, making up excuses to get me to come home. And this time he dragged you into it! Can’t he be independent for once? I have to go, bye!” Before Rebecca could get another word in, Jessica hung up. Rebecca stared at her phone, stunned, then began dialing again and again. But all she got was the cold, robotic voice of the service provider. She went from anger to helplessness to pure disappointment. Finally, Jessica blocked Rebecca’s number too. Rebecca couldn’t contain her rage any longer, screaming curses at the silent phone. I buried my face in my hands, my shoulders shaking with silent sobs. In reality, I was hiding the smile I couldn’t suppress. A nurse from the main desk sighed, walking over with a sympathetic look. She handed me her phone. “Here, try mine. A life is on the line.” I took it, looking at her with profound thanks. The call went through. The moment Jessica heard my voice, she exploded. “What the hell is wrong with you? If you want to die so badly, just do it! Can’t you live without me? The sound of your voice makes me sick! We’re getting a divorce as soon as I get back. I can’t take this anymore, you pathetic idiot!” She slammed the phone down. The pity from the onlookers had now curdled into anger. “What’s the point of having a daughter like that? Her own mother is dying, and she’s off with her side piece!” “What a disgrace to women. Disgusting.” When you’re hurting, you can swallow any amount of pain as long as no one sees. But the moment someone shows you a shred of kindness, the dam breaks. I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself. A man who had been watching the whole spectacle handed me a business card. I glanced at it: Arthur Wallace, Divorce Attorney. I discreetly slipped the card into my pocket. After what felt like an eternity, the light above the operating room finally went out. The doctor emerged, pulling off her mask with a weary sigh. She looked at Rebecca and me and shook her head. “She was too old, and she lost too much blood. We did everything we could.” She didn’t say another word, just walked past us. The funeral should have been arranged by Jessica, but Rebecca forbade anyone from contacting her. “That ungrateful child doesn’t deserve to be called my aunt’s daughter. It’s a tragedy my aunt loved that monster her whole life, only to raise a viper!” Rebecca’s eyes were blazing with a fire she could barely control. She was the most respected and capable person in the family, so no one argued. So, Rebecca and I made the arrangements. Just when I thought Jessica wouldn’t show, she did. It was the day of the burial. We were all gathered, about to leave for the cemetery, when Jessica’s furious roar came from the doorway. “Mark, get your ass out here! Who gave you the right to do this? You’re so desperate to trick me into coming back that you got everyone to lie for you? Fine! You’ve really outdone yourself!” The moment I saw her, the paralyzing terror of my death in the last life washed over me. I clutched the funeral portrait of her mother, my body shaking uncontrollably as tears streamed down my face. “Have you lost your mind?” Rebecca screamed, stepping in front of me. “We called you over and over again! And what did you say? You were with that worthless man and refused to listen! And now you show up and put on this act for who? Get out! Our family doesn’t have a monster like you! Get out!” It was the first time I’d ever seen Rebecca so furious. “Becca, what has he done to you all?” Jessica cried. “What poison has he fed you to make you all lie to me like this? No, I have to ask my mom. I need to know what she was thinking, going along with this ridiculous charade!” She started shouting for her mom, looking around wildly. Rebecca closed her eyes and let out a deep, pained sigh. She carefully placed the urn on the altar, then strode over to Jessica, grabbing her and dragging her in front of it. “Kneel! You were looking for your mother? She’s in there! How ignorant, how stupid can you be to think we’re all lying to you? How dare you!” Rebecca was so emotional that her husband, David, tried to calm her, placing a hand on her arm. But he seemed to freeze, then awkwardly pulled his hand away. Jessica stared at the urn on the altar, then at the portrait in my hands, and collapsed to the floor. She clawed at her hair, sobbing hysterically. Suddenly, her head snapped up, her eyes locking onto me with a venomous glare. She lunged at me like a wild animal, screaming. “It’s all your fault! My mom was so old, and you, her son-in-law, couldn’t even take care of her! Since you failed your duty to her in life, you can go to hell and continue serving her there! Die! Die! Die!” I was caught completely off guard. Her hands closed around my throat, squeezing with terrifying strength. A woman in a rage is a fearsome thing. Even as a grown man, I couldn’t break her grip. Just as my vision started to black out, the pressure on my neck released. I scrambled away, gasping for air. Rebecca and another man had pulled Jessica off me. I shakily wiped the tears from my eyes. Rebecca slapped Jessica hard across the face. “Snap out of it!” But Jessica was seeing red. She was about to lunge at Rebecca when her phone rang. The ringtone was a custom recording of Ryan’s voice. It was his unique caller ID. It was clear how much she loved him. Even in this state of pure rage, she calmed down enough to answer his call. “Hello? Okay. I’m on my way. Don’t be scared.” She hung up and started for the door.

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While tidying up, I found the newly bought pack of sanitary pads had been opened. Without a moment’s hesitation, I had my lawyer draft the divorce papers and send them to Alexander Prescott. His call came almost immediately. “Another tantrum? What’s it this time?” I bit my lip, my voice cold. “A pad is missing from the pack in my drawer.” “Fine. Have it your way,” Alexander’s voice was a cocktail of anger and impatience. “Just don’t come crawling back when you regret it!” The line went dead. Regret? Never. My only regret was being blind for so long, and allowing the woman who once took the business world by storm to suffer years of humiliation. … I was packing my suitcase when Isabelle ran in, tears streaming down her face. She was Alexander’s current assistant, and his first love, the one that got away. “Sera, I’m so sorry. I came by to drop off some files for Alex the other day, and I got my period unexpectedly. I just borrowed one of your pads,” she sobbed. “I never thought it would cause such a misunderstanding. Please, don’t divorce him. If you do, I’ll never be able to clear my name.” Listening to her half-hearted apology, a cold smile touched my lips. “If I don’t divorce him, how am I supposed to make room for you?” Isabelle’s voice hitched. “Sera, how can you say that? I never wanted to interfere in your marriage, I…” “You didn’t want to,” I cut her off, “or you couldn’t?” Years ago, when the Prescott family was searching for a bride for Alexander among the city’s elite debutantes, Isabelle, as the illegitimate daughter of the Miller family, was the first to be dismissed. Now, seven years later, the Miller family was bankrupt. Her return was only possible under the guise of being his assistant, a way to get close to him again. Isabelle cried even more pitifully. “If you won’t believe me, then I’ll just resign, alright?” “Suit yourself.” I threw Alexander’s earlier words back at her and went back to my packing, ignoring her completely. In the two years since Isabelle joined the company, I’d threatened divorce as many times as she’d threatened to quit. Now that the divorce was real, she was still playing the same old card: feigning retreat to gain sympathy. Alexander had long grown tired of my “jealous antics,” yet he remained utterly defenseless against her damsel-in-distress act. “Sera, please don’t go. Please don’t divorce Alex,” she cried, her voice tragic and innocent. She grabbed my arm, shaking it dramatically like some heroine in a soap opera. “Hit me, if it will make you feel better. Just please, stop being angry.” With that, she pulled my hand towards her own face. I watched her clumsy performance, my brow furrowed as I began a silent countdown. Ten, nine, eight… Before I even reached seven, Alexander’s frantic figure burst into the room. “Stop it!” he roared at me. “Seraphina, you’ve gone too far!” “Isabelle was our classmate, for God’s sake! How could you hit her?” Just like every other time, Alexander arrived right on cue, convicting me without a trial. I shook my head and gave a bitter laugh. His hero-saving-the-damsel routine was certainly getting more polished. I set down my luggage and rose slowly. First, I turned to Alexander. “If your eyes are failing you, Alex, make an appointment with an optometrist.” “Hit her? I wouldn’t want to dirty my hands.” “You…” His own words caught in his throat. I then turned to Isabelle. “If I remember correctly, I didn’t hear a knock, nor did I get up to open the door.” I stared directly into her eyes. “So, please tell me, how did you get in?” Her face went pale, and she stumbled, nearly falling. A strong arm caught her by the waist. Alexander steadied her, his voice laced with concern, before turning back to me with a glare. “Isabelle is my assistant. I gave her the password to the door for work. What, are you going to nitpick about every little thing now?” His eyes were filled with contempt. “Your jealousy is suffocating, Seraphina.” The word hit me like a lightning strike. I stood frozen. He thought I was suffocating? Wasn’t the suffocating part the way Isabelle had infiltrated our marriage over the past two years, with his silent approval and indulgence? It was invasive, and it knew no bounds. It started with dropping off files, then moved to casually staying for dinner, then overnight. Using my personal clothes without asking, taking my sanitary pads. The list of “little things” was endless. Our marriage for two had become a movie for three. And I was the extra. I blinked back the tears and looked up at Alexander. “Since this marriage is causing both of us so much pain, let’s just sign the papers and end it.” He frowned, pushing the divorce agreement aside. “Alright, stop making a scene.” “Apologize to Isabelle, and we’ll let this go. We can all still be good friends.” Hearing the word “friends” from his mouth again dredged up a flood of painful memories. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. “I, Seraphina Vaughn, would rather die alone than be friends with someone who bullied me!” An apology? Not in this lifetime. Back in school, I had hidden my family’s wealth to try and fit in. That decision made me a target for Isabelle. On the first day, she threw my books and backpack into a filthy pond behind the school. My uniform pants were slashed with a knife. Later, under pressure from my family, the school forced Isabelle to make a public apology and was about to expel her. It was Alexander who convinced me. “Come on, Sera. Let it go. She knows she was wrong, just forgive her.” Blinded by my love for him, I endured the humiliation, shook her hand, and even asked the school to let her stay. Looking back, his bias towards her started back then. I was just too in love to see it. Isabelle’s face grew even paler, tears falling like broken pearls. “I was wrong. I overstepped. I shouldn’t have presumed on our past friendship to try and be your friend.” Her voice was a pathetic whisper. “I forgot that I’m just a lowly employee at your company now. I’m worthless. I’ll leave.” Alexander’s eyes instantly reddened. He pulled Isabelle behind him, shielding her as he yelled at me. “I gave you the title of Mrs. Prescott so you could have dignity, not so you could bully people!” He turned back to Isabelle, patting her trembling shoulder. “Don’t say that about yourself, Isabelle. In my heart, you’ve never been just an employee.” He gazed at the fragile woman before him, his eyes burning with passion. “You have always been the most special person to me.” Watching my legal husband declare his undying love for another woman, I didn’t fly into a rage as I usually would. I just felt a deep, chilling cold. With her degree from some no-name university abroad, Isabelle was nowhere near qualified to be the assistant to the CEO of Prescott Corp. It was Alexander who had overruled everyone to keep her. He gave her an unheard-of salary and a unique brand of favoritism, one that pushed his own wife to the sidelines. She called him “Mr. Prescott” but called me by my first name. She claimed it was a sign of closeness, but it was clear she thought I wasn’t worthy of the Mrs. Prescott title. I could handle her thinking that, but I never imagined Alexander felt the same way. The absurdity of it all was laughable. Me, the sole heiress of Vaughn Industries, needing the “Mrs. Prescott” title to throw my weight around? The regret for the proud woman I had lost to love was sharp and painful. In that moment, the last flicker of hope for my marriage was extinguished. “Alexander, sign the divorce papers soon,” I said, my voice devoid of emotion. “Don’t force me to take this to court.” With that, I picked up my suitcase and walked out without a backward glance. When I walked through the door of my family home, my parents were excitedly watching a travel show about the Northern Lights. They quickly turned off the TV when they saw me. Traveling the world had always been their dream, but their only daughter was a fool for love, so obsessed with a man that she refused to come home and take over the family business. I walked over, took the remote out of the drawer, and turned the TV back on. Then I pulled out my phone and booked two tickets to Finland. But they didn’t smile with the surprise I expected. They just looked at me with worry in their eyes. I knew I couldn’t hide it. “We’re… getting a divorce,” I said, the words falling into the sudden silence of the vast living room. After a long moment, my parents came over and gently took my hands. “Whatever you decide, we support you. We just want you to be happy.” “Your mother and I are always your safety net.” My eyes welled up, and the years of pent-up sorrow came pouring out with my tears. They had been against my marriage to Alexander from the start, but they had relented because of my desperate pleas. I squeezed my father’s hand and then took my mother’s, our three hands clasped together. I forced a smile. “Don’t worry. I’m fine.” They weren’t convinced. They insisted I change my flight from the next day to a week later, so they could spend more time with me. At their suggestion, I booked a family portrait session, an annual tradition that had always been the highlight of our year. After marrying Alexander, I had invited him many times, but he always declined, citing work. The next morning, we arrived at the photo studio early, only to see a familiar figure: Alexander. Isabelle was with him. She was leaning on his shoulder, her eyes sparkling. “Alex, thank you for canceling that important meeting to come take pictures with me.” Alexander smiled and gently tapped her nose. “You silly girl. You’re the most important person to me. Who else would I spoil?” A bitter taste filled my mouth. So, it was never about being busy. It was about me not being worthy of his time. “Sera, what are you looking at?” my mother asked. “Nothing, I thought I saw someone I knew,” I said, turning to block her view and guiding her away. Inside the studio, I held my father’s hand on one side and linked arms with my mother on the other, smiling like a carefree child. Click! The photographer captured the warm, happy moment. In that instant, I felt reborn. I had found what was most important in my life again. “Oh,” my mother had just stepped out to use the restroom when my father suddenly clutched his stomach, his face contorted in pain. “What’s wrong? Is it your stomach again?” I helped him to a nearby lounge and simultaneously called our family doctor and 911. While we waited for the ambulance, Isabelle appeared. “So this is why you were so willing to divorce Alex,” she sneered. “You found yourself a new sugar daddy.” Her greedy eyes scanned my father from head to toe. “This old geezer might have some class, but he’s ancient. He’s nothing compared to Alex.” She clicked her tongue. “Tsk, tsk. I’m impressed you can even bring yourself to touch him for money.” My father understood immediately who she was, the woman who had destroyed my marriage. He struggled to get up, to defend my honor, but a sharp pain sent him collapsing back onto the sofa. Seeing my father’s agony, I snapped. I marched over to her and slapped her hard across the face. CRACK! “Watch your filthy mouth,” I snarled. “That’s my father!”

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