1
I drove five hours with my daughter in the backseat, all to surprise him.
But the moment he saw me, there was no joy in his eyes. Only sheer, unadulterated panic.
Iâd been cheated on.
Later, I would ask him: “In that moment, were you heartbroken that Iâd driven five exhausting hours? Or were you just terrified that your new girl would see me and our daughter?”
It was official. Martin had cheated.
The instant he saw me and our daughter, Paige, standing there, his face was a mask of pure shock, not delight. In that single, heart-stopping moment, I knew. Iâd been replaced.
His colleagues, milling about, froze. Their faces flashed with an awkward pity. They wanted to say hello, but a palpable fear of giving something away held them back. They just offered strained, guilty smiles before scurrying away.
Martin finally snapped out of his trance. He rushed forward, taking Paige from my arms and wrapping an arm around my shoulder, forcing a look of surprised joy. “What are you doing here? This is amazing!”
I didn’t answer. I just moved in a numb haze, letting him guide me toward his car.
Paige was thrilled to see her dad, her little arms wrapped tightly around his neck. She chattered away, her face pressed against his, telling him all about her latest adventures in kindergarten.
Looking at their two faces, practically carbon copies of each other, a sharp, twisting pain shot through my chest.
To keep Paige from noticing anything was wrong, I turned my head, pretending to be fascinated by the passing scenery.
Father and daughter chatted happily the whole way, a cheerful bubble I couldn’t bring myself to enter. I remained silent.
When Martin asked where I wanted to eat, I didnât respond.
2
Somehow, I held it together until we reached Martinâs apartment. I set Paige up in front of the TV with her favorite cartoon and then followed Martin into the bedroom.
“Give me your phone.”
“What’s wrong?” He smiled, reaching out to hug me. I pushed him away.
I just stared into his eyes until he finally relented, handing the phone over.
The password hadn’t changed. It was still our wedding anniversary.
How ironic.
I unlocked it, opened his messages, and let my intuition guide me. My eyes landed on a name almost immediately: Hailey.
She was a colleague. Their last exchange was just forty minutes ago.
Hailey: âGotta work late tonight. Can you pick me up and grab some takeout? Iâm dying for those amazing sliders from that 24/7 diner downtown. Pleeeease?â
Martin: âMy little foodie~â
I scrolled up. They messaged each other every single day.
All those times Martin had told me he was “swamped,” too busy to even grab a bite to eat? He was sharing every little detail of his day with Hailey.
And they were⌠colleagues. They worked in the same damn office.
3
Martin and I had been together for almost a decadeâthree and a half years of dating, six years of marriage. We had a beautiful, sweet five-year-old daughter.
Two years ago, for the sake of his career, Martin had transferred to this city. He promised that once he was settled, heâd move us over to be with him.
I waited, believing him completely. I handled everything on my ownâraising a child, managing the houseâwithout a single complaint, no matter how exhausted I was.
But the chat logs told a different story.
The night Paige and I were both burning up with a fever, Martin had claimed he was “slammed with a deadline.” In reality, he was celebrating Haileyâs birthday.
The time I broke my leg in a car accident and couldn’t make it to Paige’s parent-teacher conference, he said he “couldn’t get away from work.” He was actually on a weekend getaway with Hailey.
And on Valentineâs Day, he sent me a $50 Venmo. He bought her a diamond bracelet.
A lifetime with Hailey? Was that his plan?
Then what was I?
Before seeing those messages, the thought of Martin cheating had never once crossed my mind. I believed every sacrifice he made, every long hour he worked, was for our family. I believed he was eternally devoted to our marriage.
But itâs true what they say. No woman ever makes it out of her husband’s phone with her heart intact.
Every word he’d exchanged with Hailey became a knife, twisting deeper and deeper into my chest. A tidal wave of pain washed over me, threatening to pull me under. The breath was stolen from my lungs. My face went cold, and black spots danced in my vision.
Martin grabbed my arm to steady me as I swayed. His voice was hoarse with guilt. “Chloe⌠Iâm so sorry. But I swear, nothing physical ever happened between us. We never crossed that line.”
“And that ‘line’⌠you mean sleeping together?”
“We didn’t.”
“So, in your mind, youâve done nothing wrong?”
4
His answer didnât matter anymore.
I handed his phone back, walked out of the bedroom, and said to my daughter, “Paige, honey, we’re going home.”
Paige blinked, her expression clouding with confusion. “Mommy, why are we leaving so soon? You said we were staying with Daddy all weekend.”
“Mommy has something urgent to take care of back home. We’ll come visit Daddy another time.”
As I carried her toward the door, she was still bewildered. But seeing the look on my face, she didn’t dare ask any more questions.
Martin rushed after us, grabbing my arm to stop me. “You just got here. At least stay for the weekend.”
“No.”
They had a camping trip planned for the weekend. I had no intention of getting in their way.
“Take a day off on Monday,” I said, my voice flat. “Come back and get the paperwork done.”
I didn’t say the word “divorce” in front of Paige, but Martin understood perfectly.
He tightened his grip. “You just drove for five hours. You can’t drive another five right now. You’re too tired, Chloe. It’s not safe.”
Did he really care if I was tired?
In that first moment he saw us, was he worried about my exhaustion, or was he terrified Hailey would see us?
As we stood there, locked in a silent standoff, the sound of the front door clicking open echoed through the apartment.
It was Hailey.
Sheâd used her own fingerprint to unlock the door.
“Martin, Iâ” Her words died in her throat the second she saw me.
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At eighteen, my familyâs fortune changed overnight.
Fatherâs business boomedâwe moved into a mansion with staff. My brother went to a top U.S. university, marrying into wealth.
But I missed finals due to flu. Parents married me off to a rural bachelor. Locked in a cellar, abused daily. When I escaped home, they sneered: “Why didnât you die in the mountains?”
My brother “cheered me up” by shoving me into traffic. ICU-bound with fractures, I heard his whisper:
“We didnât get rich from business. It was your winning lottery ticket.”
I died bitter. Then woke upâback to the day I bought that ticket.
1
“Here’s your ticket. Hold on to it tight. You never know, you might just win the grand prize.”
Staring at the lottery ticket in my hand, my mind reeled.
I was back. I had been reborn, sent back to the very day I bought that ticket.
In my past life, I had bought this exact same ticket, only for my brother to burst into my room and snatch it away. Iâd never had much luck, so I never really believed I could win and eventually forgot all about it.
Soon after, my father’s business suddenly boomed. We moved into a mansion, and my family became one of the city’s newly minted elite. My brother was sent off to study in the States.
I had asked to study abroad too, but my mother shot me down.
“You’re a girl. You’ll get married one day. What’s the point of studying abroad? It’s just a waste of money.”
But I was the top student in my entire grade.
After buying that ticket, however, my luck seemed to run out. On the day of my final exams, I came down with a severe case of food poisoning, collapsing in the exam hall. I failed.
My parents married me off to a pair of bachelor brothers in a remote village, where I was locked in a cellar and abused daily.
When I finally escaped and made it home, covered in scars, my parents only had reproaches for me.
“Look at you, dressed like a beggar! You’re a disgrace to this family! Why didn’t you just die in that village?”
My sister-in-law, draped in jewels, pinched her nose in disgust. “Is this really your sister?” she whispered to my brother. “She’s worse than a beggar.”
Only my brother held me close. “Sis, you’ve suffered so much.”
He took me out to “clear my head.” In a spot with no security cameras, he shoved me into the path of a speeding truck.
I was rushed to the ICU with broken bones all over my body. As I lay dying, my brother, dressed in a magnificent suit, leaned over and whispered in my ear.
“Let me tell you the truth, so you can die in peace. Our family never struck it rich in business. It was all from the lottery ticket you bought that day. It won a hundred million dollars. That’s how we started the company. That’s how I got to go to America. So, really, I should thank you.”
He paused, a cold smile playing on his lips. “But as long as you’re alive, there’s a risk you might find out. What if you decided to cause trouble? That’s why Mom and Dad sent you to that village. They even told the locals to be rough with you. We never thought you’d actually escape… But this time, you’re finished. You can die peacefully now. Our whole family will be grateful.”
I died, my heart filled with rage.
Remembering my past life, I clenched the lottery ticket in my hand and made a silent vow.
This time, I would not let them steal my hundred million dollars.
“Sis, I knew I’d find you here!”
I spun around. My brother, Joel, was standing right in front of me. His eyes lit up when he saw my clenched fist, and he lunged for it.
2
“What’s that in your hand, sis? Is that a lottery ticket? Let me see.”
Joel grabbed my wrist, his eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger. When he couldn’t pry my fingers open, he kicked me hard in the shin.
A sharp pain shot up my leg, and I instinctively loosened my grip.
“Heh, I knew you were hiding a ticket!” he gloated.
He looked down at my hand, and his expression faltered. My palm was empty.
“Where’s the ticket? Where did you hide it?” Joel demanded, his eyes scanning me frantically.
I rubbed my bruised leg, my voice trembling. “What ticket? I was just walking past the store. I didn’t buy anything.”
He clearly didn’t believe me. He patted me down from head to toe, and when he found nothing, a look of panic crossed his face. He ignored me and stormed into the lottery shop, grabbing the owner by the collar. “Who just bought a ticket?”
The owner, used to dealing with all sorts of strange customers, shoved Joel’s hand away. “I have hundreds of customers a day. How am I supposed to remember all of them?”
Joel wanted to buy the winning ticket himself, but his memory was hazy after all this time. He could only remember the first few numbers.
He took a deep breath, his eyes darting around. Then he dragged me back in front of him, his gaze menacing. “You buy it.”
“And you’d better choose carefully,” he hissed, “or you’ll be sorry.”
A chill ran down my spine. I finally understood.
He’s been reborn, too.
To ensure he got the winning ticket this time, he had followed me here and was now forcing me to buy it for him.
I selected a ticket using the first few numbers he gave me.
Even with the ticket in his hand, Joel was still suspicious, his eyes constantly darting toward me, certain I had another one hidden somewhere.
At dinner that night, Joel tapped his chopsticks restlessly against his bowl.
My mother immediately fussed over him. “What’s wrong, sweetie? Did someone at school upset you? Mom will take care of them for you.”
My father put down his chopsticks, his expression serious. “That’s right, son. Did one of your classmates look down on you again?”
Joel waited for the right moment, then looked up, a sneer on his face as he pointed at me. “She bought a lottery ticket and wouldn’t let me see it.”
3
My parents exchanged a look. My father was the first to speak, his voice sharp.
“What’s wrong with you? I’ve told you, as the older sister, you need to let your brother have his way! What did you do to upset him this time? Apologize to him, now!”
My mother sighed, her rough hand gently stroking mine. “Ava, sweetie, it’s not that Mom is scolding you, but your brother is the only boy in this family. As his sister, you need to learn to take care of him.”
The feel of her hand on mine sent a shiver through me. The horrors of my past life flashed before my eyes.
“My sister bought a lottery ticket, but she hid it from me and lied about it,” Joel said, a triumphant look in his eyes. “Mom, what do you think we should do?”
My father slammed his chopsticks down. “Hand over the ticket! It’s not like you’re going to win anyway. What’s the harm in letting your brother have it?”
Joel chuckled. “I’m just afraid my dear sister will look down on us once she wins the grand prize.”
My mother stood up, pushed me into my room, and searched me from top to bottom, even checking the lining of my underwear.
“Ava, where did you hide it? Hand it over now!” she screamed, pointing a finger at me.
My eyes welled up with tears. “I told you, I didn’t buy another ticket! Why won’t you believe me?” I sobbed. “That was the only one I bought, the one Joel has.”
Joel frowned, his eyes full of suspicion. After all, he had arrived in a hurry and hadn’t actually seen me go into the shop.
Once the door was closed, I carefully pulled the real lottery ticket out from where I had hidden it in my hair. Thank God I’d had the foresight to do that.
But I knew my room was no longer safe. The next time I went to the bathroom, I sealed the ticket in a waterproof bag and hid it in the toilet tank.
Joel took a few days off from school, still not giving up. He constantly snooped around my room. I watched him tear the place apart, completely unfazed. My mother also took me out shopping, and while I was in the fitting room, she went through my bag.
Of course, they found nothing.
The ticket was hidden in a place they would never imagine.
Soon, it was the day of the lottery drawing.
Just like in my past life, my ticket won the grand prize: one hundred million dollars! Soon, I would be able to claim my prize and finally right the wrongs of my past.
When I came home from school, the atmosphere in the house was tense. The moment I walked through the door, my mother slapped me across the face, leaving a stinging red mark.
“If the toilet hadn’t clogged, I never would have found this!” she sneered, dangling the winning ticket in front of my face.
4
“See, Mom? I told you she hid another ticket!” my brother gloated.
I rushed to the bathroom. The toilet tank was empty.
My father kicked me to the ground, his fists clenched. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you? Hiding it from us! You really think you’re some kind of lucky charm?”
He held up the ticket with a sneer. “Today, your little fantasy comes to an end!” He gripped the ticket with both hands, ready to tear it in two.
“Dad, no!” Joel screamed, lunging forward and grabbing our father’s leg. “Don’t tear it! That ticket is worth a hundred million!”
“A hundred million? Are you joking? Even if someone did win, it wouldn’t be your sister!”
“The winning numbers have been announced!” Joel yelled, his voice shaking. “It’s this ticket! We can buy a mansion! I’m sick of living in this dump! And I’ll marry a rich, beautiful woman and give you grandchildren!”
My parents stared in disbelief. They glanced at the numbers on the TV screen and their faces lit up with ecstatic joy.
“We’re rich! We’re rich!”
I scrambled up from the floor, tears streaming down my face, my body trembling with rage. “That’s my ticket! You can’t just take it!”
“The money you used to buy it came from me, didn’t it?” my mother shrieked. “What are you crying about? Let me tell you, you’re not getting a single cent of that hundred million!”
But she didn’t give me an allowance. I had earned that money by tutoring.
Ignoring my cries and struggles, the three of them got ready to go claim their prize, locking me in my bedroom before they left.
“Sis, you really are the chosen one. A hundred-million-dollar ticket, just like that,” Joel’s voice mocked me from the other side of the door. “But this time, you get to watch us collect the money! Regret it! Suffer!”
I watched them leave, the look of anguish on my face slowly transforming into a smile.
The real show was about to begin.
I used the opportunity to pack my bags and my documents, then rented a small apartment so I could focus on studying for my exams.
On their way to the lottery center, Joel video-called me. His arrogant face filled the screen.
“So, sis, you were reborn too, huh? How’s it feel? Too bad you’re still no match for me, even in this life. You still have to watch me get the hundred million.” He lowered his voice. “And don’t even think about calling the police. It won’t do you any good. We’re family. Your money is our money. The police can’t do anything.”
“Feeling hopeless? If you’re that desperate, just jump out the window. Maybe you’ll get to the lottery ticket before we do.”
They swaggered into the lottery center. My father marched up to the counter and announced, “We’re here to claim our prize! The hundred-million-dollar prize!”
“What? A hundred million?”
It was a weekend, and the place was crowded. People stopped what they were doing and stared, their whispers turning into a roar. “A hundred million! Is that the grand prize from today’s drawing?”
“Someone actually won!”
“Oh my God, why couldn’t it have been me?”
A crowd quickly formed around my family.
“That’s right! We won the hundred million!” Joel declared, holding the ticket high for everyone to see. “You can call the reporters now. You’ll be on the front page of every newspaper tomorrow, and you’ll have us to thank!”
“Oh, and one more thing,” my father added, turning to the reporters who had started to arrive. “I want everyone to be a witness!”
Surrounded by a sea of flashing cameras, my father announced, “This hundred-million-dollar prize belongs to the three of us, and my daughter, Ava, gets nothing! And from this day forward, we are disowning her. After she graduates, she’s on her own!”
Ignoring the murmurs from the crowd, he smiled confidently at the owner. “Let’s claim our prize!”
The owner was sweating, his face flushed with excitement. He took the ticket with trembling hands and examined it carefully. Then, he froze.
The crowd held its breath, waiting for the miracle to be confirmed.
After a long moment, the owner slowly looked up.
“What? Is something wrong?” a few people murmured.
“Did they not win?”
“They won,” the owner said. “They won ten dollars.”
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While I was negotiating with a client at a private club, my wife stormed in with her male assistant to take our private room.
My wife was clearly drunk, leaning heavily on her assistant, their bodies intimately entwined.
Before I could say a word, she accused me of stalking her.
Then she insisted that she and her assistant were just colleagues, and my “small-mindedness” was causing me to misunderstand.
My client tried to defend me and was promptly cursed out by my wife and her assistant.
The deal, which had been going so well, was nearly ruined.
I didn’t argue. I chose to file for divorce. But thatâs when my wifeâs entire family started to panic.
1
“Mr. Harpster, with your network and reputation in this industry, it’s a crime that you’re still just a sales manager. Frankly, I feel insulted on your behalf.”
The client raised his glass to me again, his offer hanging in the air, sincere and tempting. “If you’re willing, the position of President for our group’s North American division is yours.”
We were in a private suite at The Gilded Pavilion, one of the most exclusive clubs in the city.
“I’ll certainly consider it,” I said with a smile, clinking my glass against his. “But for now, Mr. McKinnon, let’s get this contract signed.”
Closing this export deal would finally earn me a vacation. And I had a few other things to take care of during that break.
Just then, the door to our suite was thrown open.
“Don’t you know who this is? This is Amelia Thorne, the president of Apex Trading! And you can’t even find a room for her?”
The man who spoke was tall and handsome, but in a slick, almost greasy way. In his arms was a womanâmy wife, Amelia.
She was obviously drunk, her movements loose and unsteady. I could see her hand wrapped tightly around the man’s waist. He was her executive assistant, a guy named Leo.
“Nathan, what are you doing here?” Leo asked, his tone dripping with accusation as if I were the one out of place.
“Business,” I replied with a calm smile, showing no emotion.
For a successful businessman, emotional control is a fundamental skill. Even when you’ve just realized you’re probably being cheated on.
The rumors had been swirling around the office for a while. Amelia had, under some flimsy pretext, awarded Leo a Maserati in the company’s name. I had confronted her about it, told her that if she’d fallen for someone else, she should just be honest so we could have a dignified divorce.
But she swore she and Leo were innocent. To prove it, she’d even threatened to kill herself.
I had believed her. And now, I was seeing this with my own eyes.
Hearing my voice, Amelia quickly pushed Leo away, a flicker of panic in her eyes. But instead of explaining, she lashed out in anger. “Nathan Harpster, are you stalking me?”
“Let’s be logical,” I said, gesturing to the half-eaten meal on our table. “I’ve been here with a client for almost an hour. Do you really think a stalker arrives before the person they’re stalking?”
Mr. McKinnon chimed in, looking awkward. “It’s true, Ms. Thorne. Mr. Harpster and I have been here for quite some time.”
Anyone could see what was happening. But I could also see a spark of excitement in his eyes. He was probably hoping I’d get divorced so I’d be free to join his company.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” Leo snarled, pointing a finger at Mr. McKinnon. “You have no right to interrupt when Ms. Thorne is speaking!” He then turned to Amelia. “Amy, he must have known you were coming here. He knew this was your favorite room and booked it on purpose just to humiliate you.”
“Nathan, you are so manipulative and disgusting!” Amelia immediately bought his story, her finger now pointing at me. “I can’t believe how petty you are! I’ve told you a million times, Leo and I are just colleagues! Why don’t you trust me?”
Mr. McKinnon’s face had gone cold, his eyes glinting with a dangerous edge. He was in the import-export business, a man who’d made his fortune in volatile, war-torn countries. He was not someone to be trifled with.
I placed a calming hand on his arm and gave him a slight nod. Then I stood up and walked over to Amelia and Leo.
Leo puffed out his chest. “What, you’re going to get physical now that I’ve exposed you?”
Amelia glared at me. “Nathan, do you not trust me?”
After all this, she could still ask that question?
“Trust is a minor issue right now,” I said, loosening my tie. My gaze, however, was fixed on Leo, my voice turning to ice. “The major issue that needs to be resolved is that you are going to apologize to Mr. McKinnon.”
2
“Me?” Leo scoffed. “Apologize to him? I’m Amy’s special assistant. He’s just a client of a low-level sales manager. He’s not worthy of my apology.”
“I’ll make you apologize,” I said calmly.
Then I moved. I grabbed a handful of his slick hair and threw him across the room. Before he could regain his balance, I kicked the back of his knee, forcing him to kneel before Mr. McKinnon. I smashed a wine bottle on the table and held the jagged edge to his face.
“One last time. Apologize. Or I’ll scar you for life.”
“I-I-I’m sorry, Mr. McKinnon!” Leo blubbered, tears streaming down his face. He’d wet himself.
Mr. McKinnon stood up, buttoned his suit jacket, and gave me an appreciative look. “Mr. Harpster, my offer stands. Call me anytime. Please, take care of your family matters.” He then excused himself.
“Ah!” Amelia shrieked. She ran to Leo’s side, kneeling beside him and screaming at me. “Nathan, have you lost your mind? How dare you hit Leo? There’s a limit to your jealousy!”
“Jealousy?” I sat back down, slowly wiping my hands with a silk napkin. “Amelia, you misunderstand. I’m not jealous at all. I hit him because he insulted my client. Every one of my clients is a valuable part of my network. I have to protect them. That’s all.”
Even then, I felt nothing.
Did I not love her? Of course I did. Why else would I have worked so hard to build a successful company, only to make her president just to give her a sense of prestige? But I am also a ruthlessly pragmatic man. When infidelity enters a marriage, I cut my losses immediately.
“Why aren’t you jealous?” she asked, her voice filled with confusion.
I gave her a chilling look. “Amelia, when I loved you, you were the moon in my sky. But now that you’re tainted, you’re just filth in a gutter. No one gets jealous over filth.”
“You’re calling me filth?” Her eyes widened in horror. “You mean⌠you don’t love me anymore?”
I lit a cigarette and crossed my legs. “Amelia, we’ve been together for seven years. You should know me by now. I won’t even wear a shirt if my own brother has worn it first. Do you really think I would touch a woman who’s been touched by another man? Don’t you think I’d find you dirty?”
I stood up, ready to leave.
“I haven’t been touched by anyone!” she cried, running to me and hugging me from behind. “Honey, you’ve really misunderstood! There’s nothing going on between me and Leo! I was just drunk, and he was helping me!”
I wrinkled my nose in disgust and let the cigarette drop from my fingers. It landed on the back of her hand, and she yelped in pain, letting go.
“You were in his arms. What’s there to explain?” I sneered. “I’ve been drunk at business dinners plenty of times. Have you ever seen me being held up by another woman?”
“I’ll have my lawyer draft the divorce papers. We’re done.”
“No! I don’t want a divorce!” she sobbed, but she didn’t have the courage to follow me.
Leo scrambled to her side. “Don’t worry, Amy. You’re the president of the company. If he causes trouble, just fire him. He’s just a useless freeloader. What are you afraid of?”
3
Before I returned to the office, I made a few calls to the other board members.
When I walked back into the company, I noticed the strange looks the employees were giving me. I ignored them and went to my office.
My vice president of sales, Ethan, rushed in, holding out his phone.
It was the company-wide group chat. Leo had tagged everyone with a message: Sales Manager Nathan Harpster has been fired.
So that explained the looks.
“Dude, whose company is this, anyway?” Ethan complained. “Your wife is turning this place into a circus. The whole office is whispering that you’ve been cheated on. That Leo guy acts like he owns the place. If this keeps up, my family is pulling our investment.”
“I can handle it. Go back to work,” I said, waving him off.
“If you’re feeling down, I can take you out for a drink,” he offered, looking worried.
“I’m not the one who did something wrong. Why should I punish myself with alcohol?” I smiled. “Don’t worry, brother. I’ve got this. Besides, I already spoke with your father on the way back.”
Ethan nodded and headed for the door, but paused. “You know, my sister, Ivy, is back in the country. I still think you’d be a better brother-in-law for me.”
I didn’t respond, just focused on my work.
When I was done, I had my driver take me home.
The moment I stepped inside, the smell of cooking filled the air.
“Honey? Is that you?” Amelia’s voice called from the kitchen. “I made your favorite dish! Come wash your hands.”
I smirked. I’d seen another man’s shoes by the door. It had to be Leo.
Is she an idiot? How dare she bring him into our home?
I walked into the kitchen and saw Leo feeding a piece of meat to Amelia. She was beaming, the picture of a woman in love.
“H-honey⌔ she stammered when she saw me, her face paling. “Don’t misunderstand! I was just tasting it for seasoning, and my hands were full, so I asked Leo to help.”
“No need to explain,” I said calmly. “And by the way, you can stop calling me ‘honey’.”
I took the divorce papers from my briefcase. “Sign this. We’ll finalize it tomorrow.”
Amelia stared at me in disbelief. “Honey, are you really going to divorce me?”
“Nathan Harpster, you have no shame!” Leo shouted, stepping in front of her. “Amy is already humbling herself, cooking for you! What more do you want?” He pointed a finger at me. “I even came here to apologize in person! Don’t push your luck!”
I laughed. I took off my suit jacket, unclasped my watch, and loosened my tie. “Leo,” I said slowly, “you seem to have a very high opinion of yourself. What exactly does it mean that you ‘came to apologize in person’? Is your apology worth something?”
“Are you any better than me?” he shot back. “I’m the special assistant to the president! Second only to her! You’re just a sales manager! If you weren’t Amy’s husband, you wouldn’t even have the right to speak to me!”
He charged at me.
I kicked him away effortlessly, but he came at me again, this time grabbing my arm and hissing, “Go on, hit me! The more you hit me, the worse you’ll look in Amy’s eyes! When you two get divorced, I’ll be the one to take your place!”
I laughed again, no longer bothering to fight him. I just patted his shoulder. “Kid, what kind of trashy TV shows have you been watching? You think the world of high finance is a playground?”
“What do you mean?” He was completely lost.
I shook my head and smiled. “Since you don’t get it, let’s just get everyone together and have a little chat.”
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The day I was supposed to marry Jimmy, he ran off with Sienna, the one he always said was his soulmate.
As if to taunt me, he’d send a postcard from every new city they visitedâa picture of the two of them, smiling and carefree.
I was getting a manicure and enjoying macarons flown in from Paris when their ninety-ninth postcard arrived. I tossed it in the trash without a second glance. Just then, after three years of silence, Jimmy stormed back into my life.
He pointed a trembling finger at my wedding photoâthe one with my actual husbandâand roared, “How dare you cheat on me with some bastard while I was gone!”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “What are you talking about? My husband and I have been married for three years.”
I raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “Jimmy, you didn’t actually think I’d be waiting for you, did you?”
01
Jimmyâs eyes bulged. âYou think Iâll believe that pathetic excuse?â he snarled, grabbing my arm. âTell me! Whoâs the lowlife youâve been shacking up with? Iâll make you both pay!â
He yanked so hard I heard a sickening pop in my shoulder, and a sharp pain shot through me.
My mother-in-law, hearing the commotion, came out. Seeing a strange man gripping my arm, she rushed forward. âWho are you? Let go of her immediately!â
Jimmy glanced at the simply dressed older woman and instantly dismissed her as our housekeeper. He shoved her hard, sending her stumbling to the ground.
âGet lost, old hag. This is between me and her.â
âMom!â I cried out, watching her fall. âAre you okay?â
Hearing me call her âMomâ stopped Jimmy cold for a second, then the fury in his eyes intensified. His grip on my arm became a vise.
âMom? Thatâs your mother? And here I thought youâd landed someone important.â He sneered, his gaze sweeping over her plain clothes. âJudging by how ragged she looks, your new man must be a real loser.â
Tears of pain streamed down my face. A dark, ugly bruise was already forming on my arm. âAre you insane? You vanished for three years! You abandoned me without a word, and now you have the gall to come back and act like this?â
âAnd donât you forget,â I choked out, âwe never even had the ceremony. We were never legally married!â
My words seemed to stun him for a moment. Then, he started dragging me out of the house. âEveryone knows our families were arranging a merger! You think you can just say we werenât married?â he spat. âThis mansion is mine! You moved your boy toy in here and you dare to talk back to me? Youâve got some nerve!â
He dragged me all the way from our private estate to the main intersection, stopping in the middle of the street where the most people were gathered.
âChloe Winters!â he bellowed, making a public spectacle. âYou couldnât even wait for me to be out of the country before you started sleeping around! You have no shame!â
âThis mansion is mine! I want you out, and youâre going to pay me five million dollars in rent for the past three years!â he screamed. âIf you donât, Iâll make sure you and the entire Winters family become the laughingstock of this city!â
Through the crowd, I spotted a familiar figure. Sienna. She was smirking at me, her eyes filled with triumph and contempt.
A bitter laugh escaped my lips. He had humiliated me when he left, and now he was back to do it all over again.
The whole point of our arranged marriage was to save my family’s business. I thought marrying him would secure the investment we desperately needed. But he left, the money never came, and my familyâs company went bankrupt.
The people living in this neighborhood were all from high society. Hearing Jimmyâs tirade, they were already whispering, their minds made up.
âNo wonder sheâs such a recluse. Sheâs been hiding her lover in there!â
âI thought she was somebody special. Turns out sheâs just a gold-digging tramp living off her manâs money.â
02
Just then, my mother-in-law limped out, clutching her back, her face a mask of fury.
âYou let her go this instant!â she yelled at Jimmy. âJust wait until my son gets home. Youâll regret this!â
âChloe, donât be afraid. Mom will protect you.â
Her words only enraged Jimmy further. He sneered and gave my arm another vicious tug, dragging me a few feet across the rough pavement. âYouâre threatening me, you old crow? I donât care who your son is! Youâre squatting in my house! Pack your things and get the hell out!â
The sharp gravel scraped my legs raw, leaving bloody trails on the asphalt.
âJimmy, this house is mine!â I cried out. âGo home and ask your parents what really happened after you left!â I tried to warn him. âLet me go, right now, or I swear youâll be sorry! Sheâs not my housekeeper! You have no idea who youâre messing with!â
Before he could respond, Sienna pushed her way through the crowd. She shot me a venomous look and kicked me squarely in the chest.
âYou little slut, stop your pathetic crying!â she shrieked. âAre you trying to seduce the rich men around here? Cheating on Jimmy with one man isnât enough for you? You have to flaunt yourself in public?â
A wave of pain radiated from my chest, and it felt like a ball of cotton was lodged in my throat.
Seeing Sienna attack me, my mother-in-law threw herself over my body to shield me. âChloe, are you okay? Just hold on, Mom will find a way to help you!â
Sienna, furious that someone dared to interfere, grabbed my mother-in-law by the hair and slapped her hard across the face, again and again.
âYou old bitch! You really think this is your house now, donât you?â she spat. âForget this slut, even if that pretty-boy son of yours showed up, Iâd beat him down too!â
My mother-in-law stumbled back from the blows and fell to the ground, motionless.
Covered in dust, her face already swelling, she looked so fragile. âMom!â I screamed, a primal, gut-wrenching sound.
I turned my head, my voice raw with fury. âCome after me! Leave my mother alone! Sheâs over sixty years old! Are you even human?â
My words only seemed to provoke Jimmy. He grabbed me by the hair, ripped the belt from his pants, and began whipping me with it.
I collapsed to the ground, the world blurring into a kaleidoscope of pain and moving shadows. I was going to die here. I closed my eyes, surrendering to the darkness.
Suddenly, a manâs voice cut through the chaos. âHey! Stop that!â A burly-looking man from the crowd had stepped forward.
Jimmy glanced at him, a scornful laugh escaping his lips. âWhat, are you one of her clients too? You seem awfully concerned. She must be great in bed, huh? Youâre all lining up for her!â
He turned to the watching socialites. âYou ladies better watch out! This woman will sleep with anyone. Sheâll steal your husbands right out from under you!â
His words hit their mark. The few sympathetic glances Iâd received turned icy cold, replaced with looks of disgust.
The man stood between me and Jimmy. âSir, you need to watch your mouth. No matter what, you canât just beat a woman in the street!â
Jimmyâs eyes darted between me and the man. Then, with a roar, he punched the man in the face, knocking him down and climbing on top of him, raining down blow after blow. âYou think you can scare me? Iâm going to kill both of you today, you cheating whore and your pathetic lover!â
03
I blinked, my vision swimming. The kind strangerâs face was already a mess of blood and bruises.
âStop⌠donât hurt innocent people,â I rasped. âDo what you want⌠to me.â
Jimmy sneered and stalked toward me. He planted his foot on my face, grinding his heel into my cheek. âDonât worry. I wonât let him off the hook. Or this old hag,â he said, gesturing to my mother-in-law. âYouâre all trash. Iâm going to enjoy taking my time with you for squatting in my house!â
Then, he and Sienna were on top of us, slapping us relentlessly. I felt a tooth loosen. My mother-in-law, barely conscious, was no match for Sienna. Her face was quickly covered in blood, her head lolling limply to the side.
Seeing her like that, I panicked. The shock and lack of air triggered my asthma.
âPleaseâŚâ I wheezed, clawing at my throat. âMy⌠my inhalerâŚâ
I couldnât feel the pain anymore. All I knew was the terrifying sensation of being unable to breathe.
Jimmy ripped my hand away, rummaged through my pocket, and found my emergency inhaler. He threw it as far as he could.
âYou want your medicine?â he sneered. âStop the act. I never knew you had asthma.â
Sienna leaned against him, laughing. âJimmy, honey, she cheated on you. Why should we care if she lives or dies? If she dies, itâs just God punishing her for being a slut.â
As if on cue, they grabbed me and started tearing at my clothes. âYou like being a slut, donât you? Well, today weâll let you be a slut for everyone to see!â
They ripped my blouse open, exposing my chest. I could see people in the crowd raising their phones, recording. I could barely breathe, but I kept begging.
âGive me⌠my medicine⌠Iâll dieâŚâ I pleaded with Jimmy. âPlease⌠give it to me⌠and Iâll forget everything that happenedâŚâ
He laughed as if Iâd told the worldâs funniest joke and threw me back on the ground like a rag doll. âYou want me to forget? Iâm the one who should be settling scores with you! What a joke!â
âGet out of my mansion today, and pay me my five million! Or Iâll make sure you regret it!â His eyes lingered on my exposed chest, and he licked his lips. âDamn, if Iâd known you had a body like this, I wouldâve taken you for a test drive before I left.â He smirked. âBut itâs not too late now. You make me happy, and Iâll give you your inhaler.â
He dangled the inhaler in front of my face, then scooped me up and started carrying me toward the mansion.
âNo! Donât touch me! Please, let me go!â I clutched the torn fabric of my shirt, sobbing.
His eyes raked over my body. âBegging me now? Too late! You just be a good girl and take care of me, and maybe Iâll forget about the three years of rent you owe.â
He pressed his full weight on me, his unfamiliar scent turning my stomach. I closed my eyes in despair.
Just then, a deafening car horn sliced through the air.
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My husband Harry was caught in a terrorist attack overseas. Suddenly, my phone wouldnât stop ringing.
My mother-in-law called franticallyâshe and my father-in-law were at the embassy, waiting for me to negotiate. My estranged father claimed he could pull strings to get Harry home. Friends, colleagues, neighborsâall desperate for updates.
And me? I was recovering postpartum, calmly hanging up on every call.
Because the moment Harry saw the newsâhis ex, a war correspondent, trapped in the terror zoneâhe was ready to abandon his family, his newborn daughter, everything.
I remember clutching my belly, amniotic fluid soaking my pants, asking: “If you go, I wonât deal with the consequences.”
He didnât answer. The frantic packing, the slammed doorâthey said enough.
He wanted to play the hero. Why should I save him?
1
Harry always loved watching the international news. I never understood why, until two days ago when a special report broke.
A female journalist from our country had been taken by terrorists during an interview. The video clip was just a flash, but I recognized her instantly. It was Ava Jiang, the most famous face on the international news circuit.
I was nine months pregnant, lounging on the sofa and eating a slice of honeydew melon, feeling a distant pang of sympathy for the woman on the screen.
Then, chaos erupted.
Harry shot up from the sofa, sending the fruit bowl crashing to the floor. His knee slammed so hard into the corner of the coffee table that I felt a sympathetic clench in my own swollen belly. But Harry, he didn’t even seem to feel the pain.
He stumbled into the kitchen, his movements stiff and robotic, and tried to pour a glass of water. He hit the boiling water button by mistake, scalding his mouth and dropping the cup, which shattered on the tile. He splashed some cold water on his face, then rushed into our bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
An hour later, he emerged.
“I⌠I have to go on a last-minute business trip.”
My fingers tightened around the piece of melon, but my voice was steady as I pushed myself to my feet.
“Harry, my due date is any day now. This is a terrible time for a business trip. What if I go into labor?” I tried to keep my tone reasonable, appealing to the man I thought I knew. “You know my mother⌠she died giving birth to my brother. I’m terrified of being alone.”
I took a shaky breath. “And our daughter⌠you’ve been so excited to meet her. Don’t you want to be the first person she sees when she opens her eyes?”
His face was a ghastly white, but after a moment, he forged on. “This trip is critical. I have to go. But I promise you, Julie, I’ll be back before the baby comes.”
I laughed. A dry, hollow sound.
Even as a sharp, cramping pain shot through my abdomen, and a warm gush of liquid began to flow down my legs, I kept my voice level.
“I’ll agree to it,” I said. “But Harry, let me be perfectly clear. Whatever happens because of this trip, you will face the consequences alone. I will not carry any part of that burden for you.”
Maybe it was the gravity in my voice, but a tremor ran through him. He looked me in the eye, trying to sound sincere. “Don’t worry. I swear, I’ll come back safe.”
With that, he turned, grabbed a bag, threw a few clothes into it, and scrambled to put on his shoes, desperate to leave.
Just as his hand was on the doorknob, a final, foolish wave of softness washed over me.
“Harry, wait.”
He turned, impatience flashing in his eyes. “What now? You already said I could go.”
I clenched my fists, the pain in my belly intensifying with every second. But my voice remained a calm, flat line. “You forgot your passport.”
Dragging my feet, leaving a wet trail of amniotic fluid on the floor, I went to our room. I returned with his passport and a debit card.
It was the card for the account where heâd deposited his salary for the seven years of our marriage.
His hand trembled as he took them from me, his eyes rimmed with a guilty red. For a split second, I thought he might stay.
But he just shoved the passport and the card into his bag and repeated his empty vow.
“I promise, I’ll be back before the baby is born.”
Then he was gone, the slam of the door echoing through the now-empty apartment.
Listening to that hollow sound, I calmly pulled out my phone, dialed 911, and called my contact at the postpartum care center.
A man who couldn’t even see that his wife was in active labor dared to make me a promise.
How utterly pathetic.
2
Harry and I met in a hiking club. Back then, my job in tech was a high-pressure nightmare. I worked myself to the bone, living for the weekends when I could escape to the mountains and recharge.
Harry joined the club my second year. At first, we were just two faces in the crowd. But we were always the first two to reach the summit, and slowly, a familiarity grew between us.
He was in finance. I was in tech.
He loved the burn in his lungs and the dirt under his nails. So did I.
On the peak of our one-hundredth mountain together, he asked me out. There was no grand romantic gesture, no flowery speech. Just a simple, direct, “Julie, we should date.”
And I said yes.
My father, after all, was the king of grand gestures. He once set off half a city’s worth of fireworks to impress my mother and ended up in a jail cell for it. But all that romance didn’t stop him from pressuring her to have a son, forcing her to drink bitter herbal remedies for years until she finally died on the delivery table, taking my unborn brother with her.
So, for me, romance was meaningless. Spectacle was a lie. Stability was everything.
And Harry was the very picture of stability.
He was never late for a date. His gifts were never creative, but they were never forgotten. He wouldn’t proactively come pick me up in the rain, but if I called, heâd be there without complaint.
So, three years into our steady, predictable relationship, we got married.
Married life was no different. I cooked, he did the dishes. I bought the groceries, he’d get home early to start the rice. It was a life of quiet rhythm, a peaceful existence that made me believe I had found the perfect partner.
Then, three years ago, we went to a college buddy’s wedding. At the bachelor party, one of Harry’s friends got wasted and grabbed his hand, tears streaming down his face.
“Harry, man, it kills me to see you like this,” he slurred. “So lifeless. I’m about to start my happy new life, but looking at you⌠it just hurts, you know?” He sniffled. “If only Ava hadn’t gone overseas to be a war correspondent. You wouldn’t have had to just… shut down your heart like this.”
In that instant, Harryâs eyes darted to me. “Don’t listen to him,” he said quickly. “He’s drunk.”
I just smiled and said nothing.
But on the drive home, my words were deliberate. “Harry, I have a lot of flaws. But my one and only virtue is that I can cut ties, quickly and cleanly.”
He was standing in the shadows of the garage, and I couldn’t see his face.
But after that night, the name Ava Jiang vanished completely from our world.
Until now.
3
My phone remained silent. I had just finished breastfeeding my daughter, Mia, at the recovery center when the door flew open.
It was Harryâs mother, her face etched with panic.
“Julie, why aren’t you answering my calls? Your father-in-law is going crazy at the embassy!” she cried. “Get dressed. We need to go right now. Take Harry’s documents to the embassy.”
Ignoring her frantic tone, I calmly recited six numbers. “6-6-6-3-1-3.”
She stared at me, confused.
I carefully tucked the blanket around Mia before explaining. “I’m recovering from a C-section. I can’t go anywhere. That’s the code to our house. You can go get whatever documents you need.”
Her hand trembled. “Julie, how can you be so cold? Harry’s out there in a warzone! We don’t even know if he’s alive or dead!” Her voice cracked. “Didn’t you see the group text he sent out? The distress message? He said he’s been shot in the leg, hiding in a stranger’s house!”
Her whole body was shaking as she pleaded with me. “I know you just had a baby, but this is an emergency! Can’t you just come with me to the embassy for a little while, just to see what’s going on?”
But I just looked at her, my voice devoid of emotion. “I know about his situation. Before he sent that group text, he sent me several pleas for help. I ignored them.”
She staggered back as if Iâd struck her.
Seeing the look on her face, a flicker of pity stirred in me. For seven years, she had been a wonderful mother-in-law, filling a void my own mother had left. But Harry had destroyed all of that.
I calmly took out my phone and handed it to her, the video of my last conversation with Harry already cued up.
“Mom, don’t blame me for being heartless,” I said. “This was his choice.”
Her fingers trembled as she took the phone. As she watched, the color drained from her face, and her body went limp, slumping to the floor. She opened and closed her mouth several times before she could find her voice.
“Listen to me, Julie⌠Harry and Ava, there’s really nothing going on between them.”
I couldn’t just leave her there. Despite the searing pain from my C-section incision, I got out of bed and helped her to her feet. It was the same foolish compassion that made me give Harry his passport and bank card as he abandoned me in labor.
“I know there’s nothing physical between them,” I said, my voice gentle but firm. “But a man who is willing to abandon his wife and newborn child to chase after another woman in a warzone has made it clear where his priorities are. He doesn’t value me, or our family.”
I looked her straight in the eye. “He was willing to let our daughter grow up without a father and for me to become a widow, all for Ava. He has to be prepared to live with the consequences of that choice.”
My cold logic left her pale and speechless. She couldn’t find a single argument to defend him. She knew I was right.
Finally, she gave up. “You just focus on your recovery,” she mumbled, pulling her body upright. “I’ll⌠I’ll go.”
She looked ten years older as she shuffled toward the door. As much as it pained me, I had to say one more thing.
“Mom,” I called out, stopping her. “Sometime this week, could you and Dad find a time to move your things out of my house?”
She whipped her head around, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Can’t you at least wait?”
I shook my head.
“Did Harry wait to take me to the hospital before he flew across the world? My water had already broken.” My voice was flat. “I’m just trying to settle our assets before he gets back.”
4
My mother-in-law must have finally accepted defeat, because she left the recovery center looking like a ghost. I let out a long breath and sank back onto the bed. My C-section wound had started to bleed from the effort of helping her up. The pain was sharp, but I just calmly called for a nurse to change the dressing.
That evening, my father stormed in.
“What the hell is this?” he roared, waving his phone in my face. “Why did you send a group text saying you and Harry are getting a divorce?”
Ah, right. I’d forgotten about that. After his mother left, I was trying to relax and watch a show on my phone, but the notifications wouldn’t stop. Harry’s colleagues, his cousins, his friendsâa relentless barrage of messages asking for updates.
I was fed up.
So, I took a page out of Harry’s book. Just like heâd sent a broadcast message begging for help, I sent one of my own.
“To everyone concerned: I’m sorry to inform you that Mr. Harry Vance and I will be divorcing upon his return to the country. I have no information regarding his current situation, including any injuries he may have sustained. If you wish to know more about Mr. Vance’s condition, please contact his parents.”
As expected, my phone went blissfully silent.
My father, seeing my lack of response, kicked the side of my bed in a fit of rage. “How can you be so selfish? Your husband is trapped in a warzone, maybe even dying, and you’re already rushing to file for divorce?” His voice dripped with sanctimony. “Is this how I raised you? To be so heartless? Do you have any idea how much grief I’m getting from the family over this?”
A bitter smirk touched my lips. “So, let me get this straight. You think it would be ‘loyal’ for me to drag my postpartum body all over town, calling in favors to rescue a husband who knowingly flew into a warzone to chase his ex-girlfriend?”
I met his furious gaze. “Dad, men know men best. Do you honestly think Harry would be grateful for any of it?”
My words struck a nerve, and he began to tremble with rage. I knew exactly why.
My own mother’s health was fragile; she couldn’t safely have a second child. But my father, desperate for a son, fed her a string of lies and false promises. The result? She died in childbirth, taking my baby brother with her. He regretted it later, of course, but what good did that do? It didn’t stop him from finding me a stepmother and having a son the very next year.
So yes, men know men best.
Harry’s story had two possible endings. Either he’d die in that warzone, or, like some trashy romance novel, he and his war-correspondent ex would find their tragic, beautiful love in the midst of chaos. And even if nothing physical happened between them, could I ever trust him again? Could I live with a man who would throw his life away for another woman?
Since divorce was the inevitable outcome, why shouldn’t I minimize the damage to myself?
My father and I had always had a distant relationship. He was only here now because his son-in-law was in a major crisis, and it would look bad if he didn’t show up. After another round of angry accusations, he stormed out.
Not once did he ask if my wound hurt. Not once did he ask about the health of his newborn granddaughter.
But it didn’t wound me. It just made me angry.
Because his shouting had woken up my daughter, and now she was screaming, her little face red and blotchy, inconsolable over the mess her father had created.
5
After that, my life finally found a semblance of peace.
I listed the house Harry and I had shared, selling it at a discount for a quick sale. I hired a service to clear out everything inside. Harry’s personal belongings, I packed up and had delivered to his parents’ house. Everything elseâthe crib he’d bought for our daughter, the stroller, the tiny clothesâI threw it all away.
A father who didn’t love my daughter didn’t deserve to have his things near her.
Before selling the house, I did offer it to my mother-in-law, asking if she and her husband wanted to buy out my half. She hesitated, but I gave her some cold, practical advice. “Mom, you and Dad should probably rent for a while. Keep the money from the sale and your savings liquid. What if Harry comes back with a permanent disability? You’ll need every penny you can get.”
My words made her face turn a sickly shade of purple. My father-in-law, furious, raised his hand to slap me.
I didn’t flinch. “Dad,” I said calmly, “didn’t you just spend a hundred thousand dollars pulling strings to get Harry repatriated? You’ve finally made some headway. It would be a shame to get arrested for assault and end up in jail now. Harry and Mom need you.”
With that, I had the postpartum center staff escort them out.
Everything was proceeding according to plan.
The only thing that felt like a needle under my skin, impossible to remove, was the bank statement from my lawyer. It was a record of Harry’s finances.
For the past seven years, starting from the very beginning of our marriage, he had been making frequent, substantial donations. Small ones were around $3,000, but the larger ones were $50,000, even $100,000. All told, it added up to over a million dollars.
Every single transfer was to something called the “Q International Children’s Project”âa charity foundation run by Ava Jiang.
All these years, Harry and I had essentially split our finances. Even during my pregnancy, we went Dutch. He paid for his things, and I paid for mine and the baby’s. I’d always assumed he was saving his salary. Instead, he’d been funding international aid projects. If he had donated it to kids in our own country, I might not have been this furious. There are millions of people here struggling to get by, but no, he was more concerned about children overseas.
My daughter didn’t even have a college fund started, but he had emptied his savings to support his ex-girlfriend’s “noble cause.”
Whatever sliver of affection I had left for him vanished in that instant.
Just as I was about to finish my postpartum recovery period, Harry was finally repatriated. It was a relief, in a way. At least his father’s hundred grand hadn’t been a scam. But that relief was quickly followed by a sharp, familiar pain in my chest.
I pushed it down.
I put on makeup, chose a sharp outfit, and drove to the airport. It was time for the final act. All the assets were divided. It was time to hand Harry his divorce papers.
When I arrived, the arrivals hall was already crowded. It was a sea of familiar facesâHarry’s family, his friends, his parents. As soon as they saw me, their gazes turned sharp and judgmental.
I ignored them.
After a short wait, he appeared, being pushed in a wheelchair by airport staff. Walking beside him, her arm resting familiarly on the wheelchair’s handle, was a woman with a deep tan. Ava.
The two of them were close, intimate. As they came down the ramp, Ava stumbled slightly on a step. Harry immediately tried to sit up, his voice thick with concern. “Hey, be careful! Your leg just got shot.”
Watching them, my hands clenched into fists at my sides.
In seven years of marriage, he had never once shown me that kind of tenderness. If I stumbled or bumped into a table, he would offer a mild frown at best before returning to whatever he was doing.
So this was it. This was the “vibrant,” “alive” Harry his friends missed so much.
The thorn in my heart twisted again.
By the time Iâd composed myself, the wheelchair had reached the center of the crowd. He first embraced his parents, his voice choked with emotion. “Mom, Dad, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I made you worry.”
The past weeks had clearly taken their toll on the older couple. They clung to their son, sobbing openly. It was a moving scene, and more than a few people in the crowd started tearing up.
After his reunion with his parents, Harryâs eyes finally found me.
The moment he saw me, his own eyes reddened again. I walked calmly toward him.
He didn’t notice my flat stomach, nor the cold, hard set of my face. But the people around us did, their whispers growing louder.
Harry grabbed my hand, his voice breaking as he looked up at me. “Julie,” he cried, “I finally did it. I kept my promise to you. I came home safe.”
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1.
The second day I owned the new car, the brakes failed. I was thrown from the wreckage, bleeding out on the side of the road.
When my wife, Lorna, arrived, her first move wasn’t to help me. It was to retrieve the dashcam, ignoring my desperate cries for help.
I was rushed to the hospital and fought for my life for days, with doctors repeatedly telling my family I might not make it.
But she never showed up.
The day I was diagnosed with permanent nerve damage, condemned to a lifetime of medication and a wheelchair, Lornaâs old flame, Julian, was accepting an award.
His award-winning paper was on an improved braking technology. And I was his test subject.
The hospital called Lorna to inform her of my condition.
Her only reply was, “Tell him to stop with the drama. Julianâs experiment was designed to be safe. The worst he could have is a few scratches!”
…
After years of marriage, my wife, Lorna, gave me my first truly expensive giftâa state-of-the-art concept car.
The very next day, the brakes gave out on a sharp mountain curve. No matter what I did, I couldn’t stop it from hurtling forward. To avoid hitting anyone else, I had no choice but to wrench the wheel and aim for the mountainside.
In the final second before impact, Lornaâs call came through. As I answered, I managed to choke out a final, tragic goodbye.
“Where are you?” she demanded, her voice urgent.
At that moment, a wave of relief washed over me. I thought she was worried about me. I would later learn how wrong I was.
I told her my location. The moment the last word left my lips, the car slammed into the mountain. I was thrown clear.
Luckily, I landed in a thicket of bushes that cushioned the impact, saving me from a direct collision with the rock face. But I heard the sickening crunch of my own body breaking apart. Blood poured from a gash on my head, blurring my vision.
I couldn’t see what was happening, but I sensed a car pull up on the deserted road. I cried for help, my voice a weak whisper.
Then, through the haze of blood and pain, I saw a familiar figure.
It was my wife, Lorna.
But she got out of her car and walked straight toward my smoking wreck. I thought she was coming to save me. I worried for her safety, frantically trying to throw small stones to warn her away, afraid the car would explode.
Instead, she pried the door open with a tool and climbed inside.
At that moment, tears and blood streamed down my face. Seeing her risk her life, I thought it was all for me. But after she pulled out the dashcam, she walked over and glanced down at me.
Her eyes were cold, devoid of any warmth.
“Lorna! Help me… please, help me…”
Her voice was as cold as her gaze. “Julian is waiting for the data from this brake test. I don’t have time for this. You’re not going to die. Just hang on.”
Then she got in her car and drove away.
On that remote mountain road, it was a full thirty minutes before someone else found me.
By the time I reached the hospital, I had suffered from severe blood loss to my brain. My body was a roadmap of fractures and shattered bones. The doctors were shouting, asking for my next of kin.
“Family! We need to notify his family immediately! His condition is critical. He might not… he might not make it.”
A young nurse frantically searched my pockets for a way to contact someone. She used my fingerprint to unlock my phone and found the number pinned to the top of my contacts.
She dialed.
That familiar voice answered. Less than thirty seconds later, she cut the nurse off. “Are you kidding me? I told you I’m busy. Go home from the hospital when you’re done. Stop bothering me.”
The line went dead.
Everyone looked at each other in disbelief. The nurse tried calling again, but this time, the call was immediately rejected.
I don’t know how they handled it in the end. All I know is that as they wheeled me into the operating room, I still hadn’t seen my wife, Lorna.
2.
“This patient is such a tragedy. He’s been here for days, nearly died a few times, and not a single person from his family has shown up.”
“The hospital is even covering his medical bills for now.”
“So sad. They say he might be paralyzed. The nerve damage is severe.”
The nurses chattered softly as they changed my dressings.
My body was a cage of steel pins holding my shattered bones in place. I couldn’t move. I could smell the faint, unpleasant odor my own body was beginning to emit.
The young nurse kindly changed my disposable brief. I tried to nod, to thank her, but no words would come out.
“Don’t talk,” she said quickly. “You’ll pull at your stitches. And don’t be embarrassed. We take care of everyone in the ICU. All I want is to see you walk out of here healthy one day.”
She gave me a warm smile and left.
It was visiting hours in the ICU. Families filed in quietly. Nearly every patient had someone by their side. Except for me.
I heard the head nurse talking to one of the others in the distance. “His parents are gone, right? Just a wife. It’s been days, and we can’t even get ahold of her. When we finally did, she just hung up.”
I was past the point of tears. My entire body was a symphony of pain.
Just then, my test results came back. The doctor approached, her face grim. “Mr. Hayes, I have some bad news for you.”
My eyes were fixed on her. I think I already knew, but I couldn’t bring myself to believe it.
When she confirmed itâthat due to the extensive nerve damage, there was an eighty percent chance I would never walk again, that I would need a lifetime of medication and a wheelchairâI broke.
“We need to call your wife,” the doctor insisted. “This is serious.”
She used her own phone to dial Lorna’s number. When the call connected, it wasn’t Lorna’s voice that answered.
“Is that you, brother-in-law?” It was Julian. “I won my award today! Lorna’s throwing a party for me. She drank a little too much, so she’s staying at my place tonight. Don’t bother calling again. She said you’re really annoying.”
He chuckled. “Good night, brother-in-law. Try not to die of anger, okay?”
The moment he hung up, the head nurse started cursing under her breath.
I tried to move my fingers, to show them there was someone else they could call. When I finally managed to knock a pill bottle off my bedside table, they noticed.
They handed me my phone.
With tremendous effort, I swiped through my contacts and found the number. As the head nurse dialed, my body trembled uncontrollably. I didn’t know if she would answer, or if she even remembered me.
“Hello?”
A voice. The head nurse quickly explained the situation.
The person on the other end was instantly alarmed. “Thank you for letting me know. I’m booking the next flight. I’ll try to be there by dawn.”
When the call ended, a small measure of peace settled in my heart.
The head nurse and the younger nurse waited with me through the night. Hours passed. No one came.
Just as I began to think I’d been abandoned again, a figure rushed into the ward, wind-blown and weary.
“Hello! I’m Beth Hayes, Blake’s sister. How is he?”
The head nurse looked at her face, which was so strikingly similar to mine, and said quickly, “Not good. He’s right in here. We’ll take you.”
The moment my sister saw me, her eyes turned red.
It had been twenty years. After our parents divorced, I hadn’t seen her once. We had even held separate funerals when they passed. The first time she had called me was on my wedding day. She had sent a lavish wedding gift but hadn’t come to the ceremony. I thought she didn’t want me as a brother.
I never imagined that when I was broken and dying, she would drop everything and fly across the country to be by my side.
3.
“Where is his wife?”
When Beth asked, the room fell silent. Finally, the head nurse spoke, her voice laced with anger. “We contacted her. She refused to come. Said the patient was lying…”
My sister said nothing, but the way her hands clenched into fists and her body trembled told me everything I needed to know about her rage.
That night, she signed a stack of consent forms and liability waivers. She watched through a glass window as I was resuscitated time and time again, helpless.
The last time I was wheeled out of the operating room, she just stared at me for a long, long time.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “I have money. I’ll get you the best care, Blake. I promise.”
My sister worked tirelessly, contacting the best doctors, arranging for specialists, even preparing to sell her own house to pay for my treatment.
That night, I suffered from multiple organ failure. The entire department scrambled for an emergency surgery that lasted twelve hours.
As I was being wheeled out, I saw my wife for the first time.
Lorna was arm-in-arm with Julian. They walked right past me. Julian even glanced over. “He looks like he’s about to die. Are they still trying to save him?”
Lorna pulled him away, covering his eyes. “Don’t look at such unpleasant things. It’s bad luck. The important thing now is to get the injury data from Blake to perfect your report.”
“You’re the best, Lorna! If you hadn’t volunteered your husband to be my test subject, I never would have finished my doctorate.”
Data test?
As I was being moved to the ICU, Lorna was at the nurses’ station, asking for my room.
“I’m looking for a patient from a car accident. Name’s Blake Hayes. His injuries shouldn’t be serious. Which room is he in?”
The nurse gave her a long look. “And you are?”
“I’m his wife.”
As the words left her mouth, the nurse pointed at me, fresh out of a twelve-hour surgery. “That’s him… the one who just came out of the OR. That’s your husband.”
“What!”
She stared in disbelief.
The truth was right in front of her, but Julian just wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Wow, brother-in-law is really committed to the act, huh?”
Lorna, though visibly shaken, grabbed Julian and hurried away, once again leaving without seeing me.
Thanks to my sister’s persistence, my condition slowly improved. The day I was moved out of the ICU, I could already sit up in bed. The specialists she’d hired were truly miracle workers. I smiled, trying to praise them.
My phone, however, wouldn’t stop buzzing.
When I opened it, my feed was flooded with news of Julian winning his award for the “bottom-line brake test.” He was being lauded by the media as a hero who had advanced automotive safety.
In one interview, a reporter asked, “This kind of large-scale test requires a human test subject. In the past, it was usually the researcher themselves, or a family member, or a close friend who would make a great sacrifice. The relationship between the researcher and the test subject is often very close. Mr. Singer, could you tell us about your test subject…?”
Julian looked out into the audience, his eyes landing on Lorna.
“My test subject,” he said with a charming smile, “loves me very much.”
The crowd erupted in applause.
Today was Julian’s award ceremony. A grand affair, held at the city’s central performance hall.
I looked at the time. I opened the cloud backup of my dashcam footage on my phone. And I dialed 911.
“Hello,” I said, my voice steady. “I’d like to report a suspected case of attempted murder, involving a Mr. Julian Singer and a Ms. Lorna Hayes.”
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Chapter 1: The Grand Deception
My wifeâs business failed, wiping out our life savings.
To lessen her burden, I started working three jobs, grinding day and night.
As I was dangling from a harness, washing windows on the 30th floor, a birthday party was raging inside. I gazed in with envy, only to see my wife, Eleanor, pushing out a cake shaped like a giant stack of cash toward an elderly woman at the center of the room.
Voices drifted through the glass. “A reservation here is nearly impossible to get, but Mrs. Nelson booked the entire floor for her mother-in-law’s birthday!”
“Just the cash she was handing out at the door must have been in the millions!”
Suspended in mid-air, I froze.
No one there knew that Mrs. Nelson’s real mother-in-law had died in a hospital just the day before.
When my own mother lay sick in her hospital bed, she gripped my hand, her voice a desperate plea.
“Son, stop the treatments. I don’t want to be another burden on you and Nora.”
I had frantically called Eleanor, begging her to let me use my own debit cardâthe one she heldâto pay for Mom’s medical bills.
In the time it took me to turn away, my mother had thrown herself from the hospital roof.
She had folded her jacket neatly, and on top, sheâd placed a small, tidy stack of money. I picked it up with trembling hands. It was a mix of crumpled bills and loose change.
All told, it was fifty-three dollars.
I couldn’t reach Eleanor. After a hasty, bare-bones funeral for my mother, I rushed back to this window-washing job. The pay was three hundred dollars an hourâenough to have fed our family for days, back when we had a family.
So seeing Eleanor in this opulent, five-star hotel felt like a surreal nightmare. Was this woman, throwing away millions without a second thought, the same wife who ate plain noodle soup with me yesterday, wearing clothes patched at the elbows?
A cold gust of wind whipped around me, and I shuddered.
Mechanically, I pulled out my phone and called her again. As always, it went to voicemail. My co-worker saw the phone and gestured frantically, pulling me back up to the roof.
The moment my feet hit the solid ground, a hard hat came flying at my face.
“Playing on your phone while on the job? You got a death wish? You’re fired!”
The helmet grazed my forehead, leaving a stinging, bloody scratch.
It hurt. This wasn’t a dream.
I stumbled downstairs in a daze, running right into a crowd of jubilant hotel staff.
“Mrs. Nelson is handing out cash! Just say a lucky phrase and you get an envelope!”
The banquet hall was a sea of glittering decorations and priceless artifacts. People around me were whispering that the decor alone had cost a small fortune.
I pulled my face mask up tight and shuffled with the crowd toward the source of the commotion.
When it was my turn, I looked at Eleanor, draped in a luxurious silk gown and dripping with jewels, standing next to the old woman. My throat went dry.
“Wishing you… a long and happy life. Happy 60th birthday…”
If my mother hadn’t died, she would have turned sixty this year, too. Just a few days ago, Eleanor and I had been planning to take her out for a nice birthday dinner. My mom had just smiled, waving her hand dismissively, saying that paying off our debts was the best gift of all.
Now, we were worlds apart.
Eleanor didn’t recognize my voice. She squinted, handing me a thick red envelope. “Here you go. Take it.”
My hand trembled as I took it. It was heavy with cash. A small fortune.
The amount of money that could have saved my mother’s life, and here Eleanor was, giving away hundreds of envelopes just like it.
Someone in the jostling crowd bumped into me, and in front of everyone, I, in my filthy work clothes, fell to the floor.
A sea of judgmental eyes stared down at me. A bitter taste filled my mouth.
As I tried to scramble up, a hand reached out to me.
“Are you all right?”
I looked up. It was the other guest of honorâthe old woman’s son. And by a cruel twist of fate, I knew him.
It was Adrian, the “good friend” who, according to Eleanor, had led her into the investment that bankrupted us. The man she’d trusted with our entire fortune, only to lose everything.
But looking at them now, it was clear that the only ones who had lost everything were my mother and me.
A flicker of sly malice crossed his eyes, so fast I almost missed it. I dodged his hand, trying to get up on my own, but a moment later, a foot kicked out from somewhere, and I was sent sprawling onto my back like an overturned beetle, becoming the center of attention.
Even Eleanor looked over.
As she started walking toward me, her heels clicking on the marble floor, I scrambled to my feet and fled. I couldn’t bear for her to see me like this, so utterly pathetic.
As I stepped out of the building, my phone buzzed. A new, unknown number had added me as a contact. I accepted, and a video immediately appeared.
I pressed play. It was a grainy clip of Eleanor and Adrian, wrapped in each other’s arms.
Chapter 2: The Truth Revealed
The man’s deep voice cut through the silence. “How much longer are you going to play this game with that fool?”
Eleanor let out a soft, cold laugh, and her words echoed in my ears, again and again. “If you hadn’t dared me, I never would have been able to keep it up this long. Besides, the old hag is sick. If he knew I had money, who knows what he’d do to get it out of me.”
I froze. She knew. Eleanor knew my mother was sick.
She had seen every single one of my desperate texts begging for money. She had seen them, and she had chosen to ignore them.
I stumbled back to our apartment, a cramped basement unit, and laughed a bitter, hollow laugh. Should I praise her for her endurance? She had lived with me in a place like this for three years without complaint.
Her act was flawless. Even living under the same roof as my mother, she was always smiling, always doting on her. She claimed her own parents had died, that she hadn’t felt the warmth of a family in years, and that’s why she cherished what we had.
When her “business failed,” I sold our house to pay her debts. My mother even sold the jade bracelet her own mother had passed down to her. I’ll never forget the tears of gratitude streaming down Eleanor’s face as she took the money, promising she was done with risky ventures, that she would settle down and build a life with me.
Her tear-streaked face was a world away from the woman I saw today, beaming with laughter.
Staring at the four walls of our tiny room, I finally broke, sobbing uncontrollably.
Before I met Eleanor, I had a life I was proud of. I was the first person from my village to go to college, and once I had a foothold in the city, I brought my mother, my only family, to live with me.
I met Eleanor at a company dinner. A senior executive was harassing her. She stood there in a faded, washed-out uniform, too timid to fight back. I used the excuse of a toast to pull the executive away, earning a grateful look from her.
Later, my mom came to bring me lunch and saw Eleanor in the breakroom, chewing on a dry bread roll with a cup of cold water. From that day on, my mom always packed an extra meal for me to give to Eleanor.
Our relationship bloomed naturally from there. Our wedding was simple, but Eleanor said it was the happiest day of her life. After we were married, she wanted to start her own business. Even when it failed and left us in debt, my mother and I were her staunchest supporters.
And it was all a game. A game for the rich, and I was the only one who had played with a real heart. My mother, who loved her like a daughter, paid for it with her life.
Before I could wipe my tears, the hospital called.
“Mr. Hayes, your mother signed an organ donation agreement before her passing. We’ve found a suitable match. You should come say your final goodbye.”
Organ donation? When had my mother signed something like that?
I rushed to the hospital, only to see Eleanor and Adrian stepping out of an ambulance at the entrance.
She was rushing, her voice laced with panic. “My mother-in-law is type O. She just collapsed. I’ve already put out an alert to every hospital in the city for type O blood. We have to save her, no matter what it takes!”
I stood frozen as she brushed past me. If she had only looked up, she would have seen me, a witness to her entire charade.
But she didn’t.
Even knowing my mother was dying, waiting for the money that could have saved her, Eleanor’s entire world revolved around Adrian’s mother.
With heavy steps, I walked to the morgue. The doctor and nurses were waiting. They showed me the donation form my mother had signed. “Mr. Hayes,” the doctor said, patting my shoulder, “your mother was a truly noble woman. She did a wonderful thing. Her organs will save three families.”
I traced my mother’s signature, each stroke a testament to her love. My eyes welled up. That little old lady from the countryside couldn’t read or write. It had taken her ages, her hands tracing the characters over and over, just to learn how to write her own name.
Now she was gone forever. Her body was so broken from the fall that I couldn’t bear to look at it a second time.
I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I broke down, crying with everything I had. The doctor’s own eyes grew moist. He didn’t know how to comfort me, so he just squeezed my hand, a silent acknowledgment of my pain.
After a long time, I wiped my tears and looked at the medical team. “I’m sorry. I’m holding you all up. Please, don’t waste any more time. I know my mother would be happy, knowing she saved so many people.”
They all bowed, a silent, profound gesture of respect for my mother.
Just as they were preparing to transport the organs, a man came running up.
“Who is the family of the organ donor? Our CEO wants to purchase the donor’s heart as a backup!”
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Lisa left in the middle of our anniversary dinner again, claiming there was a problem at work.
I didnât try to stop her. I just calmly finished my own meal.
Later that night, I saw a new post on her childhood friendâs feed. It was a photo of Lisaâs hands, sleeves rolled up, placing a dish on a table.
The caption read: Stomach flu is the worst. Huge shoutout to Lisa for saving me and making dinner. Guess thatâs the confidence you get knowing youâll always show up when I need you.
This time, I didn’t call her to start a fight.
After that, whenever she had to ditch me to take care of him, I stopped protesting. I just smiled and said it was okay.
It went on like this, until her friend sent me a photo of them playing the Pocky game, their faces inches apart. I didnât react at all.
Thatâs when she finally panicked. Her eyes were red, her voice a mix of panic and hurt. “Why aren’t you angry?”
01.
Lisa had only taken two bites of her steak when her phone rang.
“It’s work,” she said, already grabbing her purse. “I have to go.”
“Okay. Go on.”
I cut off a piece of my own steak and savored it. Tender, juicy. Perfectly cooked.
Lisa seemed surprised by my calm demeanor. She frowned. “I’ll bring you back a gift.”
And with that, she was gone.
I calmly finished my meal. A small pang of regret hit meâour last anniversary dinner, and we couldn’t even finish it together.
Back home, a new post from Joshua, her childhood friend, popped up on my feed.
It was a photo of Lisaâs hands, sleeves rolled up, placing a dish on a table.
The caption: Stomach flu is the worst. Huge shoutout to Lisa for saving me and making dinner. Guess thatâs the confidence you get knowing youâll always show up when I need you.
I shut off my phone, got into bed, and went to sleep.
Sometime in the middle of the night, the soft beeps of the keypad lock woke me. I tensed for a moment, then relaxed when I realized it was Lisa. As I drifted back to sleep, I felt a presence by my bed, as if someone was watching me in the dark.
The next morning, I showered and made breakfast. Just as I was setting my plate on the table, Lisa walked into the dining room.
She glanced at the sandwich and orange juice, a flicker of confusion on her face. “You… you didn’t make breakfast for me?”
She hated Western-style breakfasts, and since I was never in the mood to cook two different meals in the morning, I had always made us a traditional breakfast we both liked.
“Ah, sorry. I forgot,” I said, taking a bite of my sandwich. “You can just order something or grab a bite on your way to work.”
I finished my meal quickly, ready to leave. When I looked up, her face had hardened.
“I know you’re mad that I lied to you yesterday,” she began, her voice tight. “But you used to get so dramatic, I was scared to tell you the truth…”
“I’m not mad.”
“Joshua’s stomach flu was acting up again, and he lives alone. I was worried, so Iâ”
“âI’m really not mad.”
“Can you please stop this? I’ve told you a million times, I only see Joshua as a brother. Why can’t you just understand that?”
“I’m really, truly not mad at you!” My voice rose, sharper than I intended. I saw the shock on her face and softened my tone. “I get it, I do. But I have to get to work. We can talk when I get back.”
Without waiting for a response, I walked out the door, leaving her standing alone in the quiet apartment.
02.
At work, my boss, Ms. Evans, called me into her office to talk about the overseas assignment again.
“Liam, this is a fantastic opportunity. The location is great, it’s safe… Just give it some more thought, please.”
She had tried to convince me for weeks, laying out the salary, the benefits, the career growth. But every time, my feelings for Lisa held me back, leaving me unable to commit.
But now…
I looked up at Ms. Evans, at her expression that was one part disappointment, one part frustration.
“I’ve thought about it, Ms. Evans,” I said, my voice clear. “I’ll take it.”
A wide smile spread across her face. Seeing her so pleased, knowing I hadn’t let her down, felt like a weight lifting from my chest.
After work, I grabbed dinner by myself before heading home. To my surprise, Lisa was already there.
That was a rare sight.
“You’re home late,” she said, her expression unreadable. She handed me a small, wrapped box. “Anniversary gift.”
“Oh,” I said, taking it. “Thanks. I’m sorry, I completely forgot to get you something. I’ll make it up to you, okay?”
Her face seemed to darken.
“Liam, can you just listen to me calmly for a second?” she pleaded. “I’ve told you before. Joshua and I grew up together. He moved to this city all by himself, and it hasn’t been easy for him. I promised his parents I’d look after him.”
I could feel the anger simmering beneath her words, but I genuinely didn’t understand why. “Don’t get worked up. I know. I understand.”
“If you have something to say, just say it! Stop acting like this!” Her voice cracked with frustration. “How many times do I have to tell you we’re just like brother and sister? Why won’t you believe me? If I wanted to be with him, why would I be with you?”
I tried to soothe her. “Calm down. I’m not angry. I really do believe you.”
“You…” She took a deep, shaky breath, her chest rising and falling. Finally, she said, “I’m hungry.”
“Sorry, I already ate on my way home. Why don’t you order some takeout? Or there’s food in the fridge if you want to make something.”
The only answer I got was the slam of her bedroom door.
03.
I was almost asleep when Lisa came back.
She walked in and just stood there, staring at me. “It’s raining outside.”
“Hmm? You should probably dry your hair then. Or just take a hot shower.”
She was soaked, but I didn’t understand the point she was trying to make.
Her voice filled with disbelief. “I didn’t have an umbrella. I was out for five hours! It’s pouring! Weren’t you worried at all?”
She took a step closer. “You’re not usually like this. Whenever we fought before, if I stormed out, you’d call me, or you’d call my friends to see if I was okay. At the very least, you’d leave a light on in the living room and wait for me to come back. But today? Five hours, and not a single call from you!”
I kept my voice gentle. “I didn’t call because you’re an adult. You know how to take care of yourself. Besides, I didn’t want to embarrass you by calling all your friends to track you down.”
Her face froze.
She must have remembered her own words from a long time ago.
“Can you stop? I’m a grown woman, I know what I’m doing! Do you have to blow up my phone like some psycho? And why are you harassing my friends? Do you have any idea how they make fun of me because of you?!”
I remembered that day clearly. I had spent hours frantically searching for her, and the moment I finally found out she was safe, that was the thanks I got. Not relief, not gratitude, but a furious tirade.
But I wasn’t interested in digging up the past. The handover for my new assignment was starting, and I was just… tired.
“Look, just go take a shower so you don’t catch a cold,” I said, turning away.
I went into the master bedroom. My mind was buzzing with work, and it took a long while before I finally drifted off. In the haze of sleep, I thought I felt a hand brush against my cheek, followed by a soft sigh. Then, the mattress dipped beside me.
04.
Lisa seemed genuinely angry this time. She started leaving early and coming home late, actively avoiding me. No texts, no calls.
I was more than happy for the peace and quiet. The last thing I wanted was more drama.
But after five days of silence, a message from her popped up on my phone.
[I’m cooking dinner tonight. Come home and eat.]
Honestly, I was stunned.
Cooking had always been my job. I remember once, I tried to be playful about it, whining about how tired I was of always being the one to cook.
She had just hugged me and cooed, “But my cooking is so bad it might put you in the hospital. Besides, I love eating the food my amazing boyfriend makes.”
Blinded by love, I never questioned the contradiction in her words. I spent my evenings after work poring over recipes, trying to perfect her favorite dishes, collecting my fair share of cuts and burns along the way. I was so wrapped up in the sweet satisfaction of her enjoying my cooking that I didn’t think twice.
Not until Joshua let it slip that Lisa was actually a fantastic cook.
That led to one of our biggest fights. Lisa’s reaction, as always, was ice-cold.
“Joshua can’t cook, and he’s a picky eater. You don’t expect him to live on takeout, do you? He’s not like you, you’ll eat anything. I’m just taking care of my brother. You’re a grown man, stop expecting people to cook for you. If you think cooking for me is such a chore, then don’t. It’s not like I need you to.”
And after that?
I think I let her half-hearted apology smooth things over, and I forgave her.
What’s that saying? Love doesn’t just make you blind, it makes you an idiot.
Never a truer word was spoken.
Still, I texted back: [Okay.]
We were on the verge of breaking up anyway. If possible, I wanted it to be amicable.
The moment I opened the front door, I heard Lisa’s cheerful voice from the kitchen. “Liam! You’re home! Go wash up and relax for a bit, dinner’s almost ready.”
I sat at the dining table, a strange mix of emotions washing over me.
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I decided to take my fatherâs offer. I would leave my husband and son behind and go back to being his precious daughter.
It was all because, after my surgery, I could suddenly hear my familyâs true thoughts.
My husband, Leo: ăSuch a minor issue, and sheâs been in the hospital for days. Now sheâs home and still not doing anything. Canât she see my suit needs ironing?ă
My son, Noah: ăThe surgery cost so much money, and now sheâs drinking my favorite yogurt. Why canât she be a boss like Aunt Corinne, instead of just sitting at home being a freeloader?ă
My mother-in-law: ăOf all the times to come back, she had to show up right when I was making chicken soup. Iâll just add some of the dishwater from washing the pot and tell her I put in too much water.ă
My heart turned to ash. I turned around, closed the bedroom door, and dialed my fatherâs number.
âYes, just me. Iâm not bringing anyone.â
It wasnât until the next evening that Leo came home, my mother-in-law and son trailing behind him with bored expressions. The moment the door opened, the sweet, cloying voice of his colleague, Corinne, drifted from his phone.
âOh, Audrey, Iâm so sorry! It was my birthday yesterday, and I canât believe Leo skipped picking you up from the hospital just to celebrate with me. Iâve already given him a piece of my mind.â
She was pretending to scold him, but the mockery in her voice was so thick it practically dripped from the phone.
I watched Leo silently, about to speak, when my sonâs thoughts flashed through my mind.
ăAunt Corinne is so gentle, not like my mom. Sheâs such a tigress, always nagging me about my homework.ă
ăWhy canât Aunt Corinne be my mom?ă
My son leaned against the doorframe, scowling. I looked at the child I had carried for ten months, and a sharp pain lanced through my heart.
Before I could react, Leo sat down on the edge of the bed, his voice a mask of gentle concern.
âYou should be lying down. Youâre a grown woman, you need to take better care of yourself. If you get sick again, Iâll be really angry.â
His tone was as warm and caring as ever. If I couldn’t hear his inner thoughts, I would have fallen right back into his tender trap.
ăLook at her, so dramatic. Is she going to throw a tantrum?ă
ăI have to keep her calm. If she gets angry and blurts out that this dump of a house is her prenuptial property, how am I supposed to keep Noah looking up to me?ă
I suddenly wanted to laugh, but no sound came out.
I had fallen for Leo at first sight, desperate to be with the poor scholarship student. Iâd cut ties with my parents, run away from home, and had our son, Noah, out of wedlock. For ten years, on top of my job, I had taken care of this entire familyâs every need. Now, after taking a short leave from work for breast surgery, I had discovered their true colors. A nest of vipers.
I yanked the covers out from under Leo, my face a mask of displeasure.
From the phone, Corinneâs voice was filled with feigned distress. âLeo, is Audrey mad at me because sheâs not talking? You have to smooth things over for me!â
My mother-in-law, who had just arrived, immediately saw the tension and stepped in to mediate. âCorinne, dear, donât mind her. Sheâs just a housewife, not very presentable. Not like you, so young and successful. Audrey, if youâre not feeling well, just get some rest. Weâre about to head out to help Corinne pick out furniture for her new house.â
As she spoke, her inner voice echoed in my mind.
ăHmph! What a waste of money. A simple cyst, and she had to have it removed. Tens of thousands of dollars, just gone!ă
ăThank goodness my son has latched onto a successful businesswoman. A promotion and a raise are practically guaranteed. Heâd never get rich staying with this woman.ă
I looked at my so-called family, their faces hidden behind masks of false concern, and felt nothing but cold indifference.
âLeo,â I said, my voice flat, âsince youâre all so busy, why donât you sign the divorce papers on the dresser? Then I wonât bother you anymore.â
My words left them all gaping in shock.
âAudrey, thatâs enough,â Leo snapped. âSo I didnât pick you up from the hospital. Is that a reason to threaten me with divorce just to make me apologize? Corinne already explained what happened yesterday. Iâve been incredibly busy these last two days, with a mountain of work at the office. Youâre out of the hospital, so just rest and recover. Donât cause trouble for me.â
Before he could finish, my sonâs face lit up with excitement as he looked at Leo.
ăDad, sign it! Sign it!ă
ăI canât stand this old hag for another day!ă
ăIf you divorce her and marry Aunt Corinne, I can get the coolest gaming gear!ă
Leo, however, seemed to miss his sonâs cues, a different thought running through his mind.
ăShe was the one who was desperate to marry me. Thereâs no way she can live without me.ă
ăThis divorce thing is just a tantrum. Sheâll be over it in three days.ă
It was Corinne on the phone who broke the silence. It was laughable, really. Leo had been clutching that phone like a lifeline since he walked in.
âAudrey, please donât misunderstand. Thereâs nothing going on between Leo and me. Please donât let me affect your marriage.â
I ignored her completely. âLeo, Iâm not throwing a tantrum. Iâm informing you.â
I was tired. I was done serving this family of ungrateful parasites.
Sensing the cold indifference on my face, Leo, who had been halfway out the door, turned back, his tone softening. âAudrey, it was just a ride from the hospital. Youâre home safe now, aren’t you? Donât make a big deal out of nothing. Corinne even called specifically to explain things to you. Don’t be so unforgiving. You used to be so understanding and reasonable. How did one little surgery turn you into such a drama queen? You need to calm down. Don’t do anything impulsive that you’ll regret later.â
I couldnât be bothered to respond. I pulled the covers over my head and turned away.
I didnât sleep all night. Neither Leo nor the others came home.
Since I had decided to leave, I planned to move my things to the new villa my father had bought for me. It would be a better place to recover. The villa was his welcome-home gift. All those years ago, I had thrown away my life as a wealthy heiress to run off with Leo. My parents were angry, but they were helpless. In the end, afraid I would suffer, they bought me the house we were living in now as my prenuptial property.
But for the sake of Leoâs pathetic pride, I never corrected his lie that he had bought it himself. Because of that, my mother-in-law had never missed an opportunity to make snide remarks, and my son had learned to look down on me too.
For ten years, my father had repeatedly asked me to come home and take over the family business. I couldnât bear to leave Leo, and I couldn’t bear to leave my son. I always refused. But now that they had all found someone new to latch onto, my leaving shouldnât matter at all.
I went to a law firm owned by my fatherâs company. As I was getting into a taxi, I got a call from the moving company.
âMs. White? Is it convenient for you to come to the delivery address? There seems to be a problem with it!â The driver sounded anxious, and I could hear arguing in the background.
I urged the taxi driver to hurry to the villa.
When I arrived, I was stunned.
The yard of the brand-new villa my father had bought for me was a chaotic mess, and clothes were hanging on the balcony. And Corinne, the “boss” Leo had been talking about, was standing there in her pajamas, hands on her hips, blocking the movers from entering.
âMs. White, are you sure this is the place?â the head mover asked, embarrassed.
I remembered what Leo and his mother had said about picking out furniture for Corinneâs new house. I had assumed she had just bought a new place and was decorating. I never imagined her ânew houseâ was the villa my father had given me. I also remembered my father mentioning on the phone that he had been sponsoring a female student.
I looked at Corinne and everything clicked.
So, the “successful businesswoman” Leo was so proud of was just an imposter, using my house to put on airs. And Leo, my son, and my mother-in-law had all been completely fooled, thinking they had struck gold with a wealthy woman.
I was about to expose her when she spoke first.
âMs. White, this house was a gift from my father. What are you doing here? This is a high-end neighborhood. If you break anything, you won’t be able to afford it. As I recall, your family doesnât have much left, unlike me. My parents would give me the moon if I asked for it.â She lazily ran a hand through her hair, her face glowing with smug satisfaction.
I couldnât be bothered to argue. I pulled out the deed to the house and said flatly, âThis is my villa. Please leave immediately.â
The words were barely out of my mouth when my son peeked out from behind Corinne, a brand-new gaming console in his hands. âMom, seriously, you need to know your limits. If you could afford a big villa like this, do you think Iâd be begging for a game console? Did the anesthesia from your surgery mess with your brain?â
My mother-in-law chimed in. âAudrey, thatâs enough. Donât embarrass yourself in public.â
Corinne burst out laughing. âYour villa? Thatâs hilarious. Itâs not that I look down on you, but with your four-thousand-a-month salary, you couldnât afford this place if you worked your whole life. And now you donât even have that job.â
She turned to the security guard who had hurried over. âIs this how you do your job? Letting any riff-raff in? If something goes missing, are you going to pay for it?â
The guard bowed and scraped, apologizing profusely, then turned to me with a threatening glare. âHow did you get in here? You have three minutes to leave, or Iâm calling the police.â
The moving truck was blocking the road, and a crowd of onlookers had gathered.
âWhatâs going on? Didnât Mr. Sterling give this villa to Miss Corinne? How did another owner suddenly appear?â
âMaybe sheâs some kind of lunatic. Look at how shabby sheâs dressed. She doesnât look like she has any connection to the Sterling family.â
âAn illegitimate daughter?â
âDonât be ridiculous! Mr. Sterling adores his wife. Thereâs no way he has an illegitimate child!â
As the crowd buzzed, Corinne basked in their praise, her chin held high.
Suddenly, Leo pushed his way through the crowd. The man who was usually impeccably dressed and obsessed with cleanliness was wearing old work clothes, his hands full of cleaning supplies. He was apparently here to help Corinne with the initial deep clean.
A chill went through me.
In all our years together, even when I was recovering from childbirth, he had never lifted a finger to help with the housework. He didnât even know how to use the mop.
âCorinne, itâs dirty out here. You should go inside. You have allergies, you canât be breathing in all this dust.â
âYeah, Aunt Corinne! Dad and Grandma are here to help. You should go take a beauty nap. Donât stress yourself out over unimportant people.â
At that, my mother-in-law rolled up her sleeves, ready to get to work.
The father and son duo chattered on, completely ignoring me.
After years of me serving them, they never once offered to help. I remembered when my allergies were acting up, and I asked my mother-in-law to sweep under the bed. Leo had just yelled at me for acting like a spoiled princess, saying I had the diseases of the rich without the wealth. âJust wear a couple of extra masks! Plenty of people have allergies, do they just stop cleaning their houses and living their lives?â At the time, I had actually felt guilty, apologizing for not adapting to his lifestyle quickly enough.
Only now did I understand. It wasn’t that he didn’t know allergies were miserable. It was that my misery didn’t matter.
Corinne was clearly delighted by their fawning. Her sharp, spiteful demeanor melted away, replaced by a delicate frown as she covered her nose. âLeo, itâs not that I donât want to go inside. But with Ms. White here, I have to be a good hostess.â
Finally, Leoâs gaze followed Corinneâs and landed on me.
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âYoung goddess, are you certain you wish your thread to be cut from the Moiraiâs Tapestry? Once the shears fall, you must enter the cycle of rebirth. There is no turning back.â
The Acolyte of the Fates was stunned, but he recorded my plea nonetheless.
âIn seven days, you will pass through the Chasm of Lethe,â he said without looking up. âAfter that, the name Elara will cease to exist.â
âWait,â he paused, his eyes widening in shock. âYour name is Elara?â
Everyone in the Underworld knew that Hades, the King of Shades, had a wife he had cherished for a thousand years. Her name was Elara.
I nodded calmly.
Only by having my life-thread rewoven could I ensure that he would never find me again.
1
When I walked out of the Hall of Fates, the realm of Hades was being transformed. In just a few hours, the usual gloomy, damp chill had vanished. The dark halls were draped with garlands of pomegranate blossoms, their deep red a startling blush of life in the land of the dead.
A newly arrived shade, looking bewildered, asked another, âIs there some kind of celebration? Is Lord Hades taking a new queen?â
A passing Fury shot her a disdainful look and scoffed, âYouâre so clueless. Our Lord Hades has been married for an eternity! He and his queen have been devoted for nearly a thousand years. In a few days, it will be Lady Elaraâs birth anniversary. Lord Hades has been planning the feast for ages!â
I walked past them, a silent sigh escaping my lips.
Everyone in the Underworld knew that the current king, Kaelen, valued his wife more than his own immortal life.
Once, when I had fallen gravely ill, Kaelen had ventured into the River Lethe itself, sacrificing half his divine power to retrieve a single, frozen bloom from its banks to use in my cure.
Even before he became the ruler of this realm, he had died for me in the mortal world.
After his death, his soul descended here, but he refused to drink the waters of oblivion. He just stood stubbornly by the Stygian Path, waiting.
When others asked him why he wouldnât move on, he would say, âIâm waiting for Elara. In life, I was her man. In death, I am her shade.â
Decades later, when my soul finally arrived, Kaelen had already become the formidable King of the Underworld. He welcomed me with the grandest ceremony the realm had ever seen.
From then on, every soul and spirit, from the lonely shades in the Asphodel Meadows to Charon himself, envied our divine romance.
During countless nights of intimacy, Kaelen would whisper in my ear, âElara, we will be together for all eternity, our souls forever entwined.â
I never doubted his sincerity. It’s just that sincerity can be so fleeting.
A month ago, I discovered that Kaelen was hiding another womanâa nymphâin a secluded corner of his domain. Every time he claimed he had âduties to attend to,â he was actually going to be with her. Unbeknownst to me, that nymph had already begun to occupy most of his time.
I gave a bitter smile, tuning out the Furyâs gushing account of my “perfect” life with Kaelen, and walked away.
Back in our Asphodel Pavilion, I took out a mortal writ of severance.
Stroke by stroke, I wrote down my name.
Even though Kaelen, as a god, was not bound by such mortal contracts, I followed the old customs. Since I was the one breaking our vow of eternal companionship, this was my final tribute to the love we once shared.
Just as I finished the last stroke, a gust of wind swept through the room. Kaelen was back.
He smiled, wrapping his arms around me from behind, his voice laced with fatigue. âElara, my love, what are you writing?â
The hand holding the quill trembled slightly. I feigned composure and quickly covered the writ with a fresh sheet of papyrus.
Kaelen sensed something was amiss. âIâm sorry, Elara,â he coaxed gently. âThere were some unruly souls causing trouble on the Stygian Path. I had to deal with them, so Iâm late.â
I didnât expose his lie. I had just come from the Stygian Path myself; it was perfectly calm.
He smiled, pulling out a hairpin carved from obsidian and starlight, and gently combed through my long hair. His voice was so soft it could drown a soul. âDonât be upset, Elara. Let me do your hair for you, shall I?â
I remained silent, feeling him lean in to style my hair. In that instant, a faint scent of jasmine washed over me. I turned my head slightly and saw itâa small, red love bite on his collar.
Nothing grew in the barren lands of the Underworld but asphodel. Where would the scent of jasmine come from? Kaelen must have traveled to the mortal realm, gathered a large bouquet, and used it to win another’s favor.
He had probably just climbed out of that nymphâs bed.
My gaze darkened.
The real agony was realizing that the moments I thought were filled with happiness were, for him, moments of betrayal. The line between true and false happiness is so hard to discern.
Kaelen, oblivious to my turmoil, gently inserted the hairpin. His eyes were full of adoration as he praised me sincerely, âElara, your skin is fairer than moonbeams. So beautiful.â
I forced a smile, covering his eyes with one hand while folding the writ of severance with the other and handing it to him.
âA gift for you,â I said. âJust promise me youâll wait seven days to open it.â
Kaelen smiled, taking my hand and agreeing instantly. âOf course. Anything for you, Elara.â
I looked into his smiling eyes, thinking to myself: in seven days, the name Elara will be gone from this world forever.
2
The next day, Kaelen cleared his schedule, eager to take me to see fireworks in the mortal realm.
The world of the living was vibrant and bustling. A rare spark of excitement lit up my face. If it hadn’t been for Kaelen, I never would have stayed in such a desolate place⌠but now, it no longer mattered.
Kaelen shielded me as we walked through the crowded streets, frequently turning to adjust the hairpin in my hair.
A little girl selling flowers ran up to us, her face bright with a smile. âMister, buy a bouquet for this pretty lady! May you two be happy together forever!â
I froze, about to refuse, but Kaelen was already smiling and picking out flowers. After careful consideration, he decided to buy her entire basket.
“Wait.”
I snapped out of my daze and stopped him.
Kaelen looked at me, his eyes full of warmth. “What is it, Elara? You don’t like them?”
I nodded, my voice flat. “I don’t like jasmine.”
His expression froze instantly, his pupils contracting. He looked⌠unnatural. He forced a stiff smile. “Elara, I thought jasmine was your favorite. Why the sudden changeâŚ?”
A sharp pain pierced my heart. Once, to make me happy, he had commanded an entire mortal courtyard to bloom with jasmine just for me. Now, to please another woman, he traveled to the mortal realm to bring her bouquets of it.
In that moment, I desperately wanted to ask him: when he gave her jasmine, did he feel even a flicker of guilt?
Before I could speak, a young, handsome acolyte rushed out from behind Kaelen and slammed into me. I had no time to dodge and was knocked to the ground.
My ankle twisted, swelling instantly. My hands were scraped. The hairpin tumbled out and landed crookedly on the pavement.
The acolyte shot me a triumphant glance before turning to Kaelen. “My lord! There are rogue titans stirring in the deepest pits of Tartarus! You must go at once!”
Kaelen frowned, a bolt of dark energy shooting from his hand towards the acolyte. But as he recognized the face, he abruptly withdrew the attack.
My gaze faltered.
I knew this “acolyte.” It was the nymph, Lyra.
She was disguised as a man, but it only accentuated her fair, jade-like skin.
Kaelen looked at me with a pained expression as he helped me up. “Elara, you go on ahead. I’ll take care of this⌔
Hearing his words, I hid my injured hand behind my back and answered flatly, “It’s fine. I can go back by myself.”
He tenderly wiped a smudge of dirt from my face, then turned and snapped at Lyra, “Be more careful. If you ever harm Elara again, I will have your immortal soul!”
He glanced at me guiltily again, then bent down to retrieve the hairpin. Before he could, a group of laughing children ran past, and the hairpin vanished into the crowd.
A flash of annoyance crossed Kaelen’s face. He was about to search for it himself when Lyra tugged on his sleeve, her voice soft and cloying. “My lord, we’ll be too lateâŚ!”
She wasn’t even bothering to disguise her feminine voice anymore, her expression a blatant provocation.
Kaelen frowned and roughly shook her hand off, his tone turning to ice. “If you don’t vanish from my sight, I will unmake you.”
He channeled his power, and in an instant, her exposed arm turned red and swollen.
A flicker of defiance crossed her face, followed by a pout. She turned and left.
Once she was gone, Kaelen’s expression softened. “Elara, you look around. I’ll be right back.”
I nodded numbly.
He lovingly stroked my hair one last time, then ordered two of his guards to stay and find the hairpin. “This hairpin is a symbol of my vow to Elara,” he said, his voice cold. “It must be found.”
Listening to his passionate words, I scoffed inwardly.
His heart had already changed. Why pretend to care?
As his figure disappeared, I silently followed him.
I watched as he caught up to Lyra and pulled her fiercely into his arms.
His voice was a low growl. “You should not have appeared in front of Elara.”
3
The nymph, still disguised, her eyes red-rimmed, lightly beat against Kaelen’s chest. âI only went to see you because I missed you so much. How could you be so cruel?â
âLook,â she pouted, holding up her swollen arm, âdonât I look⌠alluring in this uniform?â
A sliver of sheer, translucent fabric was visible at her cuff.
Kaelenâs Adamâs apple bobbed, his eyes darkening.
âWant to see what Iâm wearing underneath? I know youâll like it,â she purred.
He grabbed her arm, his eyes now clouded with desire. âDonât tell me⌠itâs a mortalâs silken finery.â
She giggled, burying her head in his chest, cooing, âYouâre so wicked!â
Laughing and teasing, they disappeared into a secluded pavilion. Their entangled silhouettes danced on the window screen.
I stood outside, listening to the sounds of their passion. I watched Kaelen repeatedly kiss her injured hand.
A searing pain shot through my own ankle. I looked down to see it swollen beyond recognition.
I had already decided to be reborn, to forget. But at this moment, my heart was filled with a bitter ache.
A single tear traced a path down my cheek. The soft moans from inside grew louder. I clamped my hands over my ears, but I couldn’t block out the sound. It seeped into my mind, a sharp knife twisting in my heart.
I forced myself to limp away, ignoring the agony. My hair was a mess. The hairpin was gone, my ankle was sprained, and I looked utterly pathetic.
I desperately told myself this was the last tear I would ever shed for him.
When I stumbled back to the Asphodel Pavilion, Kaelenâs two guards were waiting, holding the hairpin.
My eyes fell on it, and I suddenly remembered the day Kaelen had proposed. His face had been flushed, but he had looked at me with such sincerity.
âElara, I will be good to you for all of eternity.â
I had looked at him, and my heart had soared.
From that day on, he had devotedly fulfilled his promise. In the end, he had even died to protect me.
Now, the hairpin was still as beautiful as ever, but the man who had made the vow was a stranger.
I shook my head, and when I spoke, my voice was steady again.
âI donât want it anymore.â
I didnât want the hairpin, the symbol of our vow.
And I didnât want Kaelen anymore.
I fell into a restless sleep, and it was only then that Kaelen returned. He moved quietly, carefully slipping into bed beside me and pulling me into his arms.
I kept my eyes closed.
He took my cold hands in his and murmured an incantation, warming the room with the very heat of the Phlegethon, the river of fire.
In my drowsy state, I felt him almost reverently tuck my cold hands into his own embrace to warm them.
A wave of sleepiness washed over me, and I finally drifted off.
When I woke up, the space beside me was empty.
A handmaiden approached. âLord Hades has been very busy,â she explained.
I nodded, indifferent. Whether he was truly busy or off with Lyra, it no longer mattered.
I spent the next few days clearing out the pavilion.
Kaelen had given me many things. A lantern that held a captive star, custom-blended incense that smelled of forgotten memories, a loverâs knot woven from my own hairâŚ
I packed them all into a box and cast it into the fires of the Phlegethon.
As the flames died down, Kaelen pushed open the door. âElara, what are you burning?â
I smiled. âNothing. Just some useless old things.â
He nodded, glancing around the now-empty room. âIâll find you some new treasures to entertain you in a few days.â
I didnât answer. In a few days, I would be completely free, no longer waiting for him in this dull, lifeless realm.
Time was short. I made sure to burn everything.
Coincidentally, my birth anniversary and the day my thread was to be cut from the loom were the same.
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