Author: Momo Chan

I was lying gutted on a table in some black-market organ harvesting clinic, my insides being scooped out. Meanwhile, my A-list celebrity husband was blowing the five million bucks he got for selling me in a high-stakes Vegas casino. My husband, Ethan Cole, was the entertainment world’s golden boy, praised by everyone as a positive role model. But he was also a gambler. He gambled away everything we owned. Then he conspired with our accountant to steal the hundred-million-dollar emergency fund meant to save my dad’s company. He lost it all overnight. The shock killed my dad. I was completely disillusioned. I wanted a divorce. I wanted him in prison. But he got on his knees, begging, using the fact that he’d once given me a kidney to guilt-trip me. In the end, I softened. I let him go. I never imagined my moment of weakness would lead me straight to hell. He and the rich older woman bankrolling him teamed up to sell me to a black-market organ trafficking ring. Strapped to a cold metal table, fully conscious, I watched them slice open my stomach and remove my organs. The overwhelming pain and terror plunged me into darkness. When I woke up again, I found I’d been reborn. I was back on the exact day I was about to turn Ethan in, the day he pleaded desperately for me to stop. 1 My head throbbed as I slowly opened my eyes. The man kneeling at my feet clutched my legs, sobbing uncontrollably. “Liv, please, let me go,” he choked out. “Don’t hand over the evidence, okay? I’ll go to jail! I’m a celebrity! You’ll ruin my life! Liv, don’t you remember how much I loved you? When you were sick, I gave you my kidney! You can’t be this cruel.” This scene… it was so familiar. It was… right after I discovered my husband, Ethan Cole, had embezzled my dad’s emergency company funds for gambling, lost it all overnight, causing my dad to die of a heart attack. The moment I was ready to send him to prison. Had I… been reborn? It seemed even fate couldn’t ignore my simmering rage, my bottomless hatred. Since I get a do-over, Ethan Cole, I swear you’ll die a dog’s death! Remembering the agony he inflicted on me and my dad in my past life, my hatred boiled over. I lashed out with my stiletto heel, kicking the unprepared Ethan hard. He crumpled to the floor, howling in pain. “Aaaah! It hurts! Liv, are you crazy? I saved your life! How could you do this to me?” Ethan curled up on the floor, whimpering for a long moment before shouting at me in disbelief. Ha. Same old routine. In my past life, every time Ethan screwed up, he’d pull the “I gave you my kidney” card to shut me up. And every damn time, I fell for it. Not anymore. I wouldn’t be fooled again. Ignoring his cries, I decided to strike while the iron was hot. I grabbed a nearby ceramic vase and smashed it over his head. Ethan let out a bloodcurdling scream. Unfortunately, he managed to partially block it with his leg. It didn’t kill him instantly, but it definitely took him out of commission. My fury wasn’t quenched. The memory of being sliced open, the excruciating pain… I turned and headed to the kitchen, selecting the sharpest knife I could find. Seeing me approach like that, Ethan looked terrified, practically melting into a puddle on the floor, trembling. Blood from his injured leg stained the expensive rug. “Liv… what… what are you doing? Calm down! Killing someone is illegal!” “You killed my father. I’m going to make you join him,” I hissed, advancing on him like a vengeful spirit clawing its way out of hell. “I… I didn’t! It wasn’t on purpose! I didn’t know Dad’s company was in trouble! I thought I’d win the money back quickly! It was just bad luck that I lost it all! It’s not my fault! Besides, your dad wasn’t healthy anyway! How can you blame his death on me?” Ethan was frantic now, a suspicious yellow puddle spreading beneath him. His words stopped me in my tracks. I couldn’t believe someone could be so utterly shameless, so despicable. 2 In my previous life, my dad’s company hit serious trouble. Cash flow dried up, forcing him to take out a mortgage loan against assets. But shortly after the loan money came through, it vanished from the company accounts. The investigation pointed to the accountant, who had transferred all the funds into Ethan’s account. When we contacted Ethan, his account was empty. He’d blown through over a hundred million dollars in a single night of gambling. Hearing the news, my dad suffered a fatal heart attack. He couldn’t be revived. Afterward, god knows what Ethan promised the accountant, but the guy confessed, claiming Ethan had nothing to do with it. He even produced records showing the transfers were ‘gifts,’ with notes explicitly stating they were voluntary donations. There was no paper trail linking them professionally for this transaction. But I knew Ethan was behind it. I’d accidentally found his burner phone, the one with chat logs detailing his conspiracy with the accountant. I confronted him, hoping he’d confess. But Ethan used the ‘life-saving’ kidney donation to emotionally blackmail me. And fool that I was, I let him off the hook. 2 And his repayment? Selling me to an organ harvesting ring. This time, there would be no second chances. Snapping back to the present, I ignored Ethan’s pathetic screams. I put down the knife, found a roll of duct tape, and tightly bound his hands and feet. I slapped a piece over his mouth and dragged him down to the basement, locking the door. I needed to calm down, think clearly. I didn’t just want Ethan dead. I wanted him ruined, disgraced, suffering unimaginable agony before he died. I wanted him to experience everything I went through. And I wanted to bring down that entire black-market operation that butchered me. I searched Ethan’s room and found all his phones. Using his face, I unlocked each one. Not only did he have multiple phones, but each phone also had a dual operating system, like a hidden partition. What I found inside was explosive. Absolutely insane. I found multiple group chats dedicated to high-stakes gambling. Perfect. Conspiracy to gamble, check. Then there were dozens of hookup groups. Endless transaction records for escorts and call girls. Great. Solicitation, possibly organizing illicit activities, check. Shady contracts suggesting tax evasion. Embezzlement of massive company funds. … The list went on. All these charges combined had to mean decades in prison. But it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. I combed through everything, determined not to miss a single dirty secret. I wanted to expose every rotten piece of him, show his adoring fans, show the whole world, the monster hiding beneath Ethan Cole’s perfect skin. The deeper I dug, the more horrified I became. It was hard to believe the man I’d shared my bed with for years was this kind of scum. I couldn’t help myself. I went back down to the basement, ripped the tape off his mouth just long enough to slap him hard across the face. I felt one of his teeth loosen. Ethan could only glare at me with pure hatred, like he wanted to tear me apart with his bare hands. Then, in a chat with a contact saved as “Doc,” I found a strange message: [Boss approved. 5 mil. Three days. 1 AM. Address is…] [Received. Pleasure doing business.] I tried scrolling up, but older messages were deleted. Something felt very wrong. The level of caution suggested something illegal and serious. Just then, a notification popped up on another phone. The contact was saved as “Red”: “Ethan baby, I miss you. Come crawl into my arms.” Swallowing my disgust, I scrolled through their chat history. So, this was the rich cougar bankrolling the scumbag. I screenshotted a few things and was about to switch phones when another message came in. Red: “How’s that bitch doing? Her dad’s dead, and I bought out his company for pennies. She must be clinging to you for dear life now. When are you finally going to deal with her? My patience is wearing thin!” She was talking about me. So these two lowlifes had conspired against my family from the start. My chest ached with fury and guilt. I had let this wolf into our lives, and it cost my father everything. I thought for a moment, then typed back, “Soon. She’s already agreed to the divorce.” “Divorce? Don’t play dumb with me, Ethan. Why would I want a divorce? I want her ruined. I want her dead, and suffering.” … “Okay,” I typed back. Fine. You want to play games? I’m ready to play. 3 I ripped the tape off Ethan’s mouth again and shoved the phone in his face. “Who is Red? Why is she targeting me?” “Liv, I was wrong, I really was! Hit me, yell at me, I deserve it! Just forgive me, please? I hurt all over,” Ethan whined, smart enough to know screaming was useless in this secluded mansion in the hills. His only option was to beg. “I might let you go,” I lied smoothly, subtly turning on my phone’s camera. “If you tell me, was it this ‘Red’ who put you up to going after me and my dad?” “…” “Fine,” I sighed theatrically. “Then I’ll just package up all your dirty laundry and send it off to TMZ and The Insider. By tomorrow, you’ll be the next disgraced A-lister heading for prison. You’ll never work in this town again.” “Okay, okay! I’ll talk! Just don’t send anything!” Ethan pleaded, terrified. “All I know is she was your dad’s business rival. She was the one who convinced me to… access your dad’s company funds. I don’t know why she hates you specifically. Maybe… maybe I’m just too irresistible, and she couldn’t stand the competition for my affection? But Liv, my heart only belongs to you! Red and I… it was just business, an act! Remember, I gave you my—” “Stop! Don’t make me sick,” I cut him off. “Our family paid back any ‘debt’ for that kidney years ago through your career.” God, I was so stupid. It took dying once to finally see the truth. My husband, Ethan Cole, was a top-tier Hollywood star. He had that innocent, boy-next-door look, could sing, could act. He cultivated a ‘single and searching’ image that captivated millions of young women. What his fans didn’t know was that he was married – to me, Olivia Miller, or Liv. I was the only daughter of the CEO of one of LA’s biggest entertainment companies. During my senior year of college, I was diagnosed with end-stage kidney failure. My dad used all his connections and offered a fortune online, searching desperately for a donor. Just when I was losing hope, Ethan Cole appeared. He contacted my dad, offered to get tested, and miraculously, he was a match. 3 Back then, Ethan was just some unknown actor signed to my dad’s company, barely scraping by. He was young, around my age. My dad felt uneasy about taking a kidney from someone so young and planned to compensate him generously after the surgery. But after the transplant, Ethan refused any compensation. He told me he’d had a secret crush on me for ages, that giving me his kidney was something he wanted to do, asking for nothing in return except for me to be healthy. At the time, I thought it was the stuff of epic romance. My dad suspected ulterior motives, but I was insistent, head over heels, and eventually, he gave in and let us be together. After we got married, my dad poured resources into Ethan’s career. He even went head-to-head with rival studios to promote him. This corporate warfare put immense strain on my dad’s company, leaving it vulnerable. But Ethan? He soared to A-list status. Looking back now, it’s laughable how I let him use that ‘gift’ to manipulate me for years. This time, he’d learn what happens when you bite the hand that feeds you. I remembered from my past life, around this time, Ethan was invited by a major non-profit to be their official Anti-Gambling Ambassador. There was going to be a huge ceremony, live-streamed nationally. That was the day after tomorrow. Perfect. Before then, I’d just add some fuel to the fire. Let everyone see exactly what kind of ‘anti-gambling’ this ambassador was really doing. 4 The next morning, I went down to the basement, untied Ethan, and even tended to his wounds, applying antiseptic and bandages. Ethan didn’t dare make a sudden move. Maybe it was the kitchen knife I was casually holding, or maybe he was just biding his time, looking for an opportunity. “Ethan,” I started, forcing tears into my eyes. “I shouldn’t have hit you yesterday. But losing Dad… you causing it… I just lost control. Thinking about it now, I feel horrible. You gave me your kidney, and I treated you like that. I was wrong. Please, can you forgive me? You’re all I have left now.” I put on my best repentant act, though inwardly I felt nauseous. I stole a glance at the tiny hidden camera tucked behind a potted plant. I had to keep this up. Ethan looked stunned by my sudden 180-degree turn. “Are… are you serious?” “Of course, Ethan. Please tell me you can forgive me?” “Put the knife down first,” he demanded. I tossed the knife casually onto the floor. Seeing this, Ethan scrambled to pick it up, his true colors instantly showing. He pointed it at me. “Give me all the evidence you have! And my phones! Or I’ll kill you!” “Ethan! What are you doing? Don’t! You’re scaring me! Boo hoo,” I fake-cried. “Cut the crap! Give it to me! Now!” “Okay, okay! I’ll give it to you! Here’s the proof of your gambling, stealing Dad’s millions, losing it all overnight… it’s all on this drive,” I said, handing him a USB stick. I watched him meticulously delete everything from it, a smirk playing on my lips. “Ethan, the evidence is gone now. Can you forgive me? I know you still love me. Why else would you have donated your kidney when I was dying?” I put on a pitiful, wronged expression, tears welling up in my eyes. Delete it? He wished. I had backed everything up a hundred times over, stored in multiple secure locations. “Liv, you really think highly of yourself, don’t you?” he sneered, dropping the act now that he thought he was safe. “I might as well tell you the truth now. I only donated that kidney because I knew your dad could make me a star. The resources, the connections to get me to the top… that’s all I wanted. Did you really think you were some kind of siren who could charm a man into giving you his heart? You’re pathetically naive.” “What? No! You’re lying! That’s not true! You loved me! All these years, you were so good to me… it couldn’t have all been fake!” I committed fully to the role of the devastated, love-blind fool, nearly gagging on my own performance. “I was good to you so your dad would be even better to me,” Ethan spat, his face full of smug satisfaction, utterly devoid of remorse. “He went to war with half of Hollywood for me, got himself crushed in the process. Don’t blame me for that. Blame yourself and your father for being idiots.” I couldn’t take it anymore. My hand flew out, slapping him hard across his smug face. Ethan froze, stunned. Then, recovering his senses, he lunged at me with the knife. Instinctively, I threw my hand up, catching the blade. Bare-handed. Ethan’s expression was priceless. He clearly hadn’t expected me to be crazy enough to try and catch a knife. He panicked, his hand trembling so badly he dropped the knife onto the floor. I picked it up and handed it back to him. “It’s a plastic prop knife, Ethan. What are you so scared of? See? My hand is perfectly fine.” Good. This little charade had served its purpose. Just then, Ethan’s phone rang. It was his agent, rushing him to get ready for an event – a fan meet-and-greet today. Limping, Ethan headed out, clutching his bruised face. Before leaving, he shot me a look full of menace and muttered, “Just you wait.” Once Ethan was gone, I carefully reviewed the video I’d secretly recorded. Everything looked good. It would be perfect for the big reveal the day after tomorrow. Then, I took a small clip from the footage I’d captured the night before – the part where Ethan admitted Red was just a means to an end – and sent it anonymously to ‘Red’. I was betting that as soon as Red saw that clip, she’d summon Ethan for a confrontation. And I was ready. I’d already planted a tiny listening device on him and had his phone’s GPS tracked. 5 Things unfolded exactly as I expected. After Ethan’s fan event, the two had a furious argument over the phone. They finally agreed to meet at a five-star hotel downtown, in their ‘usual room’. Usual room? The audacity of these two. Carrying on like this for so long without getting caught by the paparazzi was almost impressive.

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My best friend has been hooked on this relationship advice livestream lately. While I was hashing out wedding plans with the event coordinator, She suddenly shoved her phone at me, “You HAVE to hear this!” The guy calling into the stream was saying, “My girlfriend’s decent enough, checks the boxes, but honestly? She’s not on my level anymore.” “There’s this other girl, way more impressive, and she’s into me…” “How do I get my girlfriend to just… take the hint and leave on her own?” Then, I heard a familiar meow in the background. My boyfriend of ten years wanted to dump me right before our wedding. And I hadn’t even had the chance to tell him, I’d just inherited a fortune. 01 My bestie, Chloe, practically slammed her phone into my hand. The caller on the screen had his camera off, voice distorted. “We’ve been together, like, ten years? She’s the typical good wife material.” “Always doing laundry, cooking, putting me first, you know?” “But I feel like she’s dragging me down now.” “My company’s taking off, and the daughter of this big potential partner, the CEO’s daughter, she’s really into me…” “How many chances do you get in life to really level up, right?” “It would be perfect if she just figured it out and left quietly…” Textbook scumbag. Normally, I’d be roasting him in the comments with everyone else, But those few distinctive meows in the background? It felt like my throat closed up. I’d rescued a stray cat, someone had drugged him, damaged his vocal cords. His meow was awful, unforgettable once you heard it. My boyfriend hadn’t wanted me to keep him; we’d even argued about it. The scumbag… was my boyfriend, Ethan Cole. I’d been with Ethan since college, back when he had nothing, all the way until now, when his company was finally getting somewhere. Ten whole years. He had been talking to a big company lately about a partnership. The contact person was the CEO’s daughter. Sometimes Ethan would duck into the bathroom late at night for calls, laughing and talking with her for an hour or two. Full of jokes and charm. Ethan said it was all for work. “Gotta keep the clients happy, right? How else am I gonna make the money to give you the perfect wedding?” With the wedding so close, I believed him completely. So, while I was drowning in wedding planning details… My groom-to-be, Ethan, Was agonizing over how to get me to leave him. My phone buzzed. A restaurant reservation confirmation. 【Mr. Cole, your requested private booth, ‘Sweetheart Suite,’ has been prepared. We look forward to welcoming you…】 It was the restaurant we went to for our ten-year anniversary celebration. I’d found the place back then, cozy and romantic. Naturally, they had my number; Ethan never bothered with little details like that. Chloe obviously recognized the cat’s unique meow too. She slammed her hand on the table, furious. “That bastard! I’m gonna go find him!” My mind was a mess, like I was still trying to wake up from a nightmare. My hand felt cold when I grabbed hers to stop her. “Ms. Quinn, should we finalize the lilacs as the main flower for the wedding?” The wedding planner was waiting for my confirmation. Lilacs. Symbolizing first love, innocence. Ethan and I were each other’s first love. I couldn’t just declare us dead on arrival like this. I managed to calm Chloe down and went home alone. As I walked in, Ethan was heading out. “Going somewhere?” “Weren’t we supposed to have dinner with your family tonight?” I was still holding onto a sliver of hope that the restaurant was a surprise for me. But Ethan just patted my shoulder. “Something came up at work last minute. You’ll have to handle dinner tonight, okay? Thanks.” Like he was encouraging an employee. My cat, Rascal – I named him that hoping a tough name would help him thrive – came over, rubbing against my leg. Rascal flopped onto his back, tail brushing against Ethan’s pants. Ethan made a “tsk” sound, full of disgust. I petted Rascal and asked him, “Ethan, have you been really stressed lately?” “If something’s bothering you, you can talk to me about it.” He answered casually, “What’s the point? You don’t understand company stuff.” “Just handle my mom tonight, make sure she’s happy. Don’t make me deal with mother-in-law drama.” Ethan forgot I graduated from the same university he did. In the early startup days, I worked just as hard as he did. It was his idea that a husband-and-wife team looked unprofessional. “You hold down the home front,” he’d said. “We have the same goal, just different roles.” All these years, I bought his crap, busted my butt being his support system, swallowing my own feelings so he wouldn’t be bothered. Looking back now, I was such an idiot— Beep. Ethan’s phone notification. He glanced at the screen, a smile unconsciously playing on his lips. “Oh, right, I got you a little something.” Before leaving, Ethan tossed a box from a designer brand onto the shoe cabinet. “If my relatives give you a hard time tonight, just look at the gift and try to put up with it.” A tiny pair of stud earrings. Normally, I’d be happy he was thinking of my feelings. But earlier today, Chloe had given me an early wedding present. She knew I liked this brand. She got me a classic handbag, and inside the bag was a small box. “That’s a free gift-with-purchase, just threw it in there,” she’d said. Identical earrings. I stared at the small box, feeling like I was holding the ashes of our love after cremation. “Ethan,” I said, “Maybe we should break up.” For a split second, in his surprised expression, I saw a flicker of relief he couldn’t hide. But the next moment, he smiled, cupped my face, and kissed my forehead lightly. “Don’t be silly. You just have pre-wedding jitters.” “I gotta run to work. We’ll talk when I get back.” Even breaking up with him, I was still being put on the back burner behind everything else. 02 I didn’t wait for Ethan to come home. I packed my bags. Grabbed Rascal and moved into Chloe’s place that night. If I love someone, I go all in, no looking back. But when I stop loving them? I can switch to pure logic instantly, cut my losses. Even though it was ten real, solid years of my life, I still have plenty of decades ahead of me. Chloe was sprawled on the couch, cuddling Rascal, looking at me with pity. “Sarah, you ditched the loser, and now all you’ve got left is money.” “Seriously, how awesome is that kind of life!” Her eyes sparkled as she looked at me. “Good thing I stopped you from telling that scumbag about the inheritance!” “You better figure out how to thank me! This is worth at least two hot pot dinners!” She was joking, gently trying to soothe my hurt feelings without making a big deal of it. Chloe’s family was well-off; she’d helped me out a lot over the years. But she never expected anything in return. A week ago, I’d suddenly gotten a call about inheriting an estate. At first, I thought it was a scam. Chloe snatched the phone and snapped, “Are your scammer background checks this cruel now?! You’re scamming orphans?!” “Shameless!” “Money? Fine! We don’t want it!” “Give me your address! I’ll show you what a fist of justice looks like!” The person on the other end gritted their teeth. “Ma’am, this is the police department!” I was the result of my parents’ youthful mistake. After I was born, they both took off, never to be seen again. My grandmother raised me by scraping by until I was seventeen, then she passed away. Back then, when I was lost and alone with my grandma’s body, the police couldn’t find my parents. And now they show up like this. Apparently, over the years, they’d each done very well for themselves, latching onto a sugar mama and a sugar daddy respectively. Old and faded, they remembered their youthful romance and decided to come find me for some family time. But they started arguing on the way back. It turned into a physical fight in the car, and they plunged together into the abyss of love – literally, off a cliff. The taxes I paid just transferring the houses, cars, and stocks into my name could have funded four or five of Ethan’s companies. I had planned to tell him about it as a wedding surprise. Too bad he wasn’t destined to have me. Thank God I wasn’t destined to have him. My phone rang. It was Ethan’s mother, calling to rush me. Oops, forgot to tell her I wasn’t coming tonight. The second I answered, she started chewing me out. “The relatives are all here! Where are you?” “Not even married to my son yet and you’re already acting like some high-society wife?” “Making the elders wait for you? No respect!” “Did you book the hotel rooms for the relatives yet?” “His second aunt and third aunt are the most down-to-earth ones, they don’t need a hotel, they can just crash at your place for a few days.” “Did you get the gifts I told you to prepare?” “They came all the way from back home, it’s not just about the food, you know.” “You don’t have family, so they’re here to support you!” “Now that my son’s making money, don’t be stingy and cheap.” “It reflects badly on my son when people talk.” “Sarah Quinn, get over here right now!” After unloading all that, she hung up. Honestly, she wasn’t always like this. The first time Ethan brought me home to meet his widowed mother. She held my hand, her eyes full of kindness. “Ethan tells me you’re an orphan?” “You poor child. Thank goodness you don’t mind that we’re poor, don’t mind an old woman like me.” “Good girl. From now on, you’re my daughter. This is your home.” Even looking back now, I don’t think the kindness Ethan and his mother showed me back then was fake. Their hen laid one egg a day. That single egg would appear in my bowl, cooked in different ways. When his mother slipped the family’s silver bracelet onto my wrist, Ethan’s eyes were filled with pain and guilt. They couldn’t give me much back then, but they gave me their all. But people change. They change the most. As Ethan’s career started to take off, his mother’s gaze got higher and higher. She went from calling me “daughter” to “Sarah” to just “Sarah Quinn.” From: “Aren’t you jealous? My daughter is so beautiful, like an angel!” To: “Don’t even mention her. She’s just destined to sit at home and enjoy life, can’t help my son with anything!” I decided I still needed to go to the restaurant. To give the bracelet back to his mother. And to get back the money I’d already paid for the dinner. My money didn’t grow on trees, and I wasn’t about to let some ungrateful wolves snatch it. 03 Through the closed door of the private dining room, I could hear the loud chatter inside. They were talking about me. “Ethan’s mom, your daughter-in-law really is a city girl!” “Still not here? Putting on airs!” Ethan’s mother made a couple of tutting sounds. “She’s probably off getting your gifts!” The other person scoffed. “She doesn’t look down on us poor relatives, does she?” Ethan’s mother quickly waved her hand. “She eats my son’s food, drinks my son’s water, just a burden who knows how to take. Does she dare?!” “She has to suck up to you elders!” “Otherwise, our Ethan wouldn’t even let her in the door!” Someone else started gossiping. “Ethan’s wife is definitely a looker, but she’s so thin. Hope she doesn’t have trouble having kids!” “Good thing she has no parents, saves trouble later if she fights with Ethan and threatens to run back home.” Ethan’s mother puffed up with pride. “Her? Argue with my Ethan? My Ethan just has to glare and she gets scared to death!” “If she hadn’t been chasing after our Ethan back in college, begging him to take her, with my son’s status now, he should be marrying some heiress!” “She really lucked out!” But it was Ethan who pursued me first. There was another guy, a rich kid, interested in me at the same time. Ethan swore to me, “Trust me, in ten years, I’ll be doing better than him!” Now, of course, Ethan wasn’t nearly as wealthy as that heir who inherited his family business. But back then, Ethan was like resilient grass in the wind, refusing to bend even when battered by storms, wearing his confidence like a white shirt. I saw in him the same thing I saw in myself – a forced strength born from having no one else to rely on. I wanted to build a safe harbor with him. With the wedding approaching, a lot of relatives had come. Ethan had complained to me many times about how demanding they were. “They helped pay a few years of my tuition, made my mom sign IOUs for all of it.” “Now every single one acts like I owe my success entirely to them.” Ethan didn’t want much contact with his relatives, but his mother felt completely different. She loved having people visit from their hometown. If someone’s daughter-in-law was having a baby, she’d tell me to take them to the hospital. If someone’s grandchild wanted to go to a good school, she’d tell me to find connections. If someone’s son wanted a respectable job, she’d tell me to help find one. Preferably high pay, low work. Behind their backs, his mother would scoff. “They used to look down on us. Now, which one of them is doing better than my son?” Chloe called me the “Chen Family’s Unofficial City Liaison Office.” “Did you sell yourself to that family?!” I should have seen the shift in Ethan and his mother’s mindset long ago. I just clung to the memory of that past sincerity, pretending to be blind and deaf. Ethan’s mother came out to call and rush me again, yanking the door open right in my face. She slapped my forearm. “You brat! You finally decided to show up!” “I thought we’d need a parade to get you here!” Chloe, who had come with me, stepped in front of me. “Hey! Why are you hitting her!” Faced with Chloe’s direct accusation, Ethan’s mother just forced a smile. “Oh, Chloe’s here too. Join us for a bite later. Let me just have a quick word with Sarah.” Ethan’s mother knew Chloe came from money and was always extra polite to her. She even once said she felt a connection with Chloe and wanted to adopt her as a goddaughter. Chloe looked like she’d swallowed a fly back then and bluntly said she didn’t need another mom. Without another word, Ethan’s mother dragged me aside. “Didn’t I tell you not to be cheap? Order some impressive dishes to shut them up!” “Spending my son’s money on the wedding like it’s nothing!” “I told you what to do, and you serve them mushrooms and noodles?!” She must have meant abalone and shark fin soup. I pulled my arm free from her grip, my voice calm. “I came to tell you that Ethan and I broke up.” “And this is yours.” I handed the silver bracelet back to her. I had wanted to ask for the dinner money back, but the meal had already started. I couldn’t make the restaurant take the loss. Ethan’s mother squinted, looking me up and down, making clicking sounds with her tongue. Like she was looking at a crazy person. I motioned for Chloe to leave with me, but Ethan’s mother grabbed me again. “What? You lived off my son, ate his food.” “Wasted so many years of his life, and now you think you can just walk away without consequences?” Suddenly, it was all my fault?? 04 Ethan’s mother said if I wanted to break up, I had two options: either give Ethan a son, or pay him a million dollars. “Giving my Ethan a child would be doing you a favor!” “My son’s bank card has been with you all this time! Who knows how much money you’ve siphoned off him over the years!” “Trying to run off with the money? Dream on!” She clung to me, refusing to let go, spitting as she yelled in my face. Initially, Ethan’s bank card was kept by his mother. But one time, Ethan gave the wrong account number for an investment, and the money went into his personal account. His mother, without asking, immediately withdrew $400,000 to buy her brother a house. Ethan was frantic. I had to sell my only property, an apartment, to cover the shortfall for him. After that, Ethan got the card back from his mother. He said he was giving it to me to manage, but honestly, Ethan always kept the main card himself. I only had a secondary card for daily household expenses. The relatives in the private room all came out to watch the drama. Ethan’s mother started wailing. “My son worked so hard to build his business, and this bitch wants to steal it all!” Chloe tried to pull me away, but a large, burly relative shoved her, knocking her to the ground. Seeing my best friend get hurt because of me ignited my anger. “Enough!” I pointed at Ethan’s mother, who was now sitting on the floor throwing a tantrum. “Ethan cheated on me emotionally! I already broke up with him!” “I dumped your precious son.” “Coming here to tell you was basic decency on my part, not because you hold any ‘elder’ status!” “Those few bucks Ethan clutches onto tighter than his life? I don’t want them.” “If you want money, ask your son! Don’t ask me!” “Forcing a girl to have a baby for your family after a breakup?” “You think I won’t call the cops and get you a nice, long, all-expenses-paid stay in jail?!” I was furious, scanning the crowd with a sharp gaze. “Who pushed my friend just now?!?!” Chloe immediately understood, pointing at the culprit. “It was him!” “Oww… I feel dizzy, nauseous… Call the police, don’t let him get away…” The man she pointed at jumped up. “Ethan’s mom! I was sticking up for your family!” “You gotta handle this!” I called the police. Ethan’s mother called Ethan. The police and Ethan arrived at the same time. Before the police could even ask what happened, Ethan stepped forward, shaking one of the officer’s hands. “My fiancée and my mom just had a little misunderstanding. It’s a family matter, we can handle it ourselves.” “Sorry to trouble you.” Ethan looked at me reproachfully. “Sarah, I asked you to do this one thing. Couldn’t you even handle that?” He shook his head in disappointment, as if I was an unbearable burden. I shot back immediately. “Excuse me? Your meals, your laundry, your schedule, taking care of your mom, handling all your relatives’ major and minor issues – I did all that.” “All you did was go to work.” “You’re the one who only does one thing.” He seemed surprised I’d talk back, his frown deepening. “Isn’t my work also for giving you a better life, making you happier?” I let out a cold laugh. “Ethan, you’re the one who’s been comfortably enjoying my efforts all these years, living a happy, easy life.” “Didn’t you want me to break up with you first?” “Well, you got your wish. Don’t push your luck.” “Officer, we’ve already broken up. His mother attempted to unlawfully detain me.” “And his relative just assaulted my friend.” “We request a medical examination and appropriate compensation.” Ethan stood there, stunned. His mother gritted her teeth. “Are you crazy broke, you damn girl?!” The young officer frowned. “Ma’am, watch your language.” Chloe rolled her eyes dramatically at them. “Who wants your money! We want justice!” The officer taking notes looked up. ??? That sounded familiar… I opened my phone, pulled up the balance of one of my accounts, and shoved the screen in front of Ethan’s mother. “Ma’am, put on your reading glasses and count the zeros.”

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My wife’s first love got kidney disease. To save him, she gave the kidney meant for me to him. To stop me from storming the hospital, she locked me in our bedroom. She spent every day and night by his bedside, cooking for him, tending to his every need. All she left me were some crackers and a carton of expired milk. A month later, she finally opened the door. “Have you thought things through?” My face was pale as I looked at her in despair. “Without that kidney, I’m going to die.” “Don’t talk about dying. You’ve been waiting this long; the pain, the discomfort… you must be used to it by now. Do you really need to say things like that just to scare me?” “But Mark is different. He’s never been able to handle pain. Can’t you try to understand him more?” “Understand,” I nodded stiffly. As I walked out of that room, I resolutely chose to leave. But she wouldn’t let go of my hand, even after being stabbed multiple times! … I struggled to get up, wanting to leave the bedroom to find water. I hadn’t had a drop of warm water in days. When Sarah locked me in here, she only left milk that had expired months ago. I’d finished the milk long ago. With no water, I had to resort to drinking tap water from the bathroom sink. “Get back here! Did I say you could leave?” Sarah was furious, yanking me back forcefully. I was weak, my stomach aching dully. Caught off guard, I stumbled and hit the corner of the desk. “It’s not like this illness is new for you, is it? You’ve been fine all this time, haven’t you? You’ve managed this long, what difference does waiting another month or two for a kidney make? Why are you throwing a tantrum now!” My arm throbbed numbly where it hit the desk, but the sharpest pain didn’t seem to come from there. Slowly, I lifted my eyes to look at the woman I had loved deeply for so many years. My chest felt like a gaping hole had been torn open. During those days trapped in this room, I kept asking myself: Am I really that worthless? What do I even mean to Sarah? Seeing my silence, Sarah furrowed her delicate brows and finally took a hard look at me. “Ethan, are you trying to threaten me with a hunger strike?” “We’ve been together for years. You know I respond better to kindness than threats, right?” I lowered my gaze. There were so many things I didn’t know after all these years with Sarah. This was just one more. I swallowed hard, but the lump of bitterness in my throat wouldn’t go down. “Sarah, I just have one question.” “Locking me in here, sealing the windows shut early on, taking my phone… did you plan all along to give my kidney to Mark? Leaving me without food or water, did you even consider how I’d survive? Did you deliberately forget I need dialysis? Did I—” “Enough, enough! Why are you rambling on?” Sarah waved her hand impatiently, then bent down, picked up the trash can, and shoved it in my face. “What’s this? Huh? Look at this! Ethan, you ate everything, scraped it clean, and now you’re accusing me of trying to starve you?” My eyes stung. I quickly raised a thin hand and wiped furiously at my face. Then I turned and walked out of the room without looking back. “Where are you going! I’m not finished talking!” Sarah followed close behind, but she stopped dead in her tracks, just as I did. In the living room, on the massage chair I’d bought for myself… Right there, lay a man. 2 Seeing Sarah and me, he quickly paused whatever he was doing and got up. Sarah saw him and immediately pushed past me, rushing over. “Slow down! What’s the hurry? Don’t you know you just had surgery? Be careful how you move!” In an instant, Sarah seemed like a different person. Her face showed mock annoyance, but she acted like a petite woman, almost pouting playfully. “Sarah, don’t worry, I’m fine. But… I heard what you and Ethan were talking about just now.” “Ethan, Sarah did this behind my back. When I found out, I felt terrible. I didn’t realize she’d done so much for me. I feel really bad, really guilty. How about this? Let me kneel down for you. Thank you for your incredible generosity!” Though Mark was recovering from major surgery, his face was flushed with health. The health I longed for… He claimed ignorance with every word. My face deathly pale, I stared intently at him. Just as I was about to speak, another voice cut in faster. “Mark! What’s this about kneeling? Why would you kneel to him!” “Ethan’s been sick for so long, he’s used to it. Don’t blame yourself. You need to rest now. Lie down for a bit. Later, I’ll go buy a nice chicken and make you some soup to build up your strength.” “Sarah, you’ve already done so much for me. This past month, you’ve taken care of everything. Even my own mother admits she couldn’t have done better. You even got me that expensive VIP room, spending every day in that little kitchenette figuring out different healthy meals for me. I really don’t know how to thank you!” Mark, getting emotional, took a few steps forward and grabbed my hand. “Ethan, I really envy you having such a wonderful wife. Sarah’s a good woman. You can’t keep being stubborn and upsetting her like you used to.” Bitterness flooded my heart. I pulled my hand away from his grasp. Was I upsetting Sarah? When my condition worsened, when I was most vulnerable and needed her company the most, she was tirelessly by Mark’s side, barely sleeping. All because Mark had just been diagnosed, and he was worried, scared, afraid of pain. And the kidney I had waited so long for? Sarah had forcibly tricked the system to transfer it to Mark. Every word Mark spoke felt like a knife deliberately twisted in my chest. And Sarah was the one handing him the knife. I managed a bleak smile. “Is that so? If she’s so great, then she’s all yours.” I turned and walked towards the door. This house was suffocating me. If I stayed any longer, I wouldn’t survive. But even in this state, Sarah wouldn’t let me go. The moment my fingers touched the doorknob. Sarah’s voice came from behind. “Ethan, are you crazy! What nonsense are you talking! Is your mind that filthy? You see dirt in everything?” “Mark and I are just purely friends!” A sarcastic sneer spread across my pale face. “Boyfriend, you mean?” SLAP! My head snapped to the side. I slowly lowered my eyes. Sarah stared at her hand in disbelief, then looked at me frantically. “I… Ethan, I didn’t mean to. I was just so angry! Yes! You were talking nonsense, that’s why I hit you!” I blinked slowly. I wanted to hit back, but the ringing in my ears grew louder and louder. I desperately reached out, trying to grab onto something, but caught only air. Just as I started to fall towards Sarah… I watched, wide-eyed, as Mark urgently pulled her away. “Sarah, watch out!” 3 When I woke up again, I had a nasal cannula in my nostrils and clips on my fingers. The steady beeping of machines filled the air. Sarah wasn’t in the room. I removed the wires attached to me and slowly shuffled out of the hospital room. As soon as I opened the door, I heard voices from the nearby stairwell. It was Sarah’s voice. The stairwell was dim. Mark held Sarah tightly in his arms. “Sarah, that really scared me back there. I thought he was going to hit you! If he had dared to lay a hand on you, I don’t care if he gave me this kidney, I would’ve punched him!” Sarah blushed, gently pushing him. “Why would he hit me? You’re overthinking it, Mark. Besides, you were there, weren’t you?” “Sarah, I really regret it. If I hadn’t left back then, if I had stayed here, would things be different? We wouldn’t have missed all these years.” I let out a short, bitter laugh as I watched Mark lean down to kiss Sarah, silencing whatever she was about to say. “Are you the patient from Bed 13? What are you doing standing here!” A sudden voice from behind startled the woman in the stairwell. Sarah hurriedly pushed open the stairwell door, not even wiping the tears from her face. She frowned at me. “Ethan, why are you up?” I gave Sarah a long look, then shifted my gaze to Mark, who now wore a smug expression. Without Sarah watching, he didn’t even bother pretending anymore. “Are you asking him? How are you monitoring your patient? He took off his ECG leads and wandered off, and you didn’t even know! The doctor’s been calling for you, where were you?” The nurse scolded Sarah sharply. Sarah swallowed but said nothing. I turned and went back to my room. Sarah followed close behind. Since Sarah didn’t show up, the doctor came to my room personally. “Ethan, you’re severely ill. Why did you wait so long to come to the hospital?” I pressed my lips together, unsure how to answer. Sarah spoke up, sounding genuinely surprised. “Isn’t he always like this? He’s been on dialysis for years. Even in the hospital, it’s just IV drips and anti-inflammatories. Isn’t it the same as taking meds at home and getting infusions at a local clinic?” I looked at Sarah, my face expressionless. All those years, afraid of worrying her, I’d always rush home early. Going back and forth to the hospital was inconvenient, and I didn’t want her to worry. Plus, she had just started a new job and couldn’t easily take time off. So, I went to a small clinic near our house for my infusions. If I finished early, I could go to the supermarket next door and buy groceries to cook her favorite dishes. After all these years of marriage, I never knew Sarah could even make chicken soup. A sourness stung my nose. The hole in my chest felt like it had been gouged wider. “The same? How could it be the same! Didn’t we explain the test results to you, the family member? His condition is very serious now. His body’s metabolism is severely compromised. How can a grown man like him be malnourished? Aren’t you feeding him at home?” The doctor pointedly scolded Sarah, whose face flushed red and pale by turns. Of course, she wouldn’t dare tell anyone what she had done to me. And even if I could speak up, it wouldn’t bring back the kidney that should have been mine. I lay weakly on the hospital bed. Sarah stood beside me, frowning, flipping through my test reports page after page. It hit me then. Before this moment, she had never actually looked at them closely, nor had she ever really listened to what the doctors said. 4 Memories stretched back. From when I first got sick, Sarah was always impatient. She refused to accept the reality, didn’t want to hear me talk about it. Back then, I thought she was just scared of losing me, afraid of being left alone in the house. So, I listened to the doctor’s advice alone. I went for check-ups alone. I bought medication alone. I got infusions alone. All the worry and fear, I digested it all by myself. I didn’t dare tell her, afraid she’d be sad, upset, afraid she’d lie awake all night worrying, just like me. But then later… Later, when Sarah found out her first love, Mark, had a similar illness, she locked herself in her room and cried for a whole day and night, refusing to eat or drink. The irony was, at that time, I thought she was worried because my own condition had worsened. I stood outside her door, trying to comfort her for ages. She wouldn’t open it. She sat crying on the floor inside, so I sat on the floor outside, leaning against the door, telling her joke after joke to cheer her up. Separated by just a door, I thought that even if fate hadn’t given me a healthy body, it had given me the most important person, my love, and that wasn’t so bad. But I never imagined that even this small hope was false. When the doctor told me they’d found a suitable kidney match, that I could have surgery soon, that I wouldn’t have to run between home and the hospital anymore, that I could live like a normal person, take her traveling to all the places she wanted to go – I had even planned routes on my phone. I never expected what awaited me was Sarah locking me in the room, decisively and ruthlessly giving away the kidney I had waited so long and hard for to someone else! “How could it be this serious?” Sarah lifted her fair face, looking at me in disbelief. “Sarah, let me see those.” Mark stepped forward and snatched all the test reports from her. “Is there anything else? If not, please leave. I need to rest.” I sat up straighter. Sarah’s eyes widened. “What are you doing? Mark means well! Look at your nasty temper, snapping at everyone!” Right in front of me, Mark reached out and took Sarah’s arm. “Sarah, calm down. I’ve been through this, I understand. These doctors love to exaggerate. They just want patients like me and Ethan to worry and panic, so we’ll agree quickly to all the drugs and tests they suggest.” “It’s probably not that big a deal; they just make it sound terrifying.” “Doctors in public hospitals aren’t always the best. We should find a real specialist. My cousin is actually an expert in this field. I can send him Ethan’s medical records for a look.” “Okay, thank you for the trouble, Mark.” Sarah went with Mark to find the doctor and get copies of my records printed. Lying in bed, a wave of intense pain washed over me. My pale face instantly beaded with sweat. My body trembled as I tried to sit up and press the call bell. But every movement intensified the pain! I was right here in the hospital, yet I couldn’t move. Just as despair filled my eyes, the door opened again. I looked towards Sarah, full of hope. “It hurts so bad, quick… call the doctor—” Suddenly, the stack of test reports slammed hard against my face. “Enough! How long are you going to keep pretending!”

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Right after giving birth, my husband sent me off to recover at his old flame’s postpartum wellness center. What I didn’t know was that it was a shady, unlicensed joint. For a whole month, no visitors. The caregivers there either hit me or screamed at me, constantly mocking my post-baby body. Meanwhile, my husband, Ethan, was busy throwing a huge one-month celebration party for my baby with his precious Sophia. I saw it on TV. A luxurious ballroom, packed with guests. Ethan and Sophia stood center stage, looking like the perfect little family. When a reporter asked a question, Ethan looked at Sophia with such tenderness and pity, “You’ve worked so hard, honey.” Everyone gushed about what a power couple the CEO of Sterling Corp and his “wife” were. My mother-in-law, who always gave me the cold shoulder, beamed as she slipped the family heirloom bracelet onto Sophia’s wrist. Swallowing the blood and tears, I pulled out the cell phone I’d managed to hide under the mattress and called my brother, who was finally back in the country. “I need to get my baby back, Chris. And I’m going to make every single one of them pay!” … I was finally home, sipping some hot chicken soup, when Ethan and Sophia burst through the door with some people. Ethan was furious. “Maya, what the hell are you doing running around? Do you have any idea how worried Sophia was when she found out you disappeared from the center? She nearly lost her mind! And you’re just sitting here calmly drinking soup?” Sophia put on her best hurt expression. “Ethan, don’t blame Maya. Maybe she just missed home and left without telling anyone.” That just made Ethan angrier. “Sophia was kind enough to let you stay at her high-end center, arranged the best caregivers, the best nutritional meals, and this is how you thank her? Maya, you’re getting more and more ridiculous! Apologize to Sophia right now!” I let out a cold laugh. This was the man I once loved. Sending me to an unlicensed hellhole just for his old flame. The “best nutritional meals” he mentioned? Cold leftovers. Chicken soup with a thick layer of grease solidified on top, and a gnawed chicken bone sunk at the bottom! His “best caregivers” gave me cold water, took my phone, kept me locked up, and dished out beatings and verbal abuse daily. The more I remembered, the hotter the hatred burned inside me. But it wasn’t time to deal with them yet. I finished my soup and set the bowl down gently. “Where is my baby?” Ethan paced irritably, then rounded on me again. “Who are you giving that attitude to? “Didn’t I explain this already? Sophia lost her baby; she just wanted to borrow ours for a little while. She’s been through so much, what’s the big deal letting her have the baby for a bit? We can always have another one!” I sneered inwardly. Just like that, he casually talks about giving away the child I nearly died to bring into the world. I remembered when Ethan was chasing me, promising he’d always treat me right. My parents hadn’t approved of him back then, didn’t want us together. He actually knelt outside their door, swearing he wouldn’t marry anyone else. That’s what finally, reluctantly, convinced them. But the moment his old flame, Sophia, came back to the city, everything changed. I thought about the day I went into labor. I couldn’t reach him, no matter how many times I called. Complications arose, needing family consent for procedures. He was nowhere to be found. Shaking, I signed the critical condition forms myself. And where was he? His excuse later: “Sophia’s kid fell down the stairs and was in the ER! Can you stop being so dramatic?” Before I could even respond, he’d hung up violently. When I tried calling back, his phone was off. When I finally woke up, I found myself in some recovery center I’d never heard of, and the baby I’d endured a traumatic birth for was gone. My phone was missing. I couldn’t contact anyone. Panicked, I tried to run out to find my son, but the center’s staff grabbed me, dragged me back to the room, and literally tied me down. They fed me scraps. I was on the verge of a complete breakdown when I saw the news report about Ethan’s party on the TV in the corner. There he was, arm around Sophia, who was holding my baby. My mother-in-law personally placed the family bracelet on Sophia’s wrist, smiling and telling the cameras, “My daughter-in-law gave birth to a beautiful, healthy boy! She’s the hero of the Sterling family!” A happy family of four, perfect for the media. While I was tied up like an animal in that dark, hopeless place. 2 My hands, resting on my lap, clenched into fists. I looked Ethan straight in the eye. “Give me back my son, or I’m calling the cops. Tell them how you illegally confined me in an unlicensed facility just to steal my child!” Ethan’s face changed. Sophia burst into tears. “I’ve been a mother; I know how hard it is. That’s why I suggested Ethan let you stay at my recovery center. I never thought you’d see me this way, Maya. “I didn’t want to steal your baby, I just wanted to hold him… And since you couldn’t attend the one-month party during your recovery, I just went in your place to watch over him. I didn’t realize you’d misunderstand.” She sobbed pitifully, looking completely innocent. Ethan’s eyes filled with sympathy for her. He patted her back comfortingly. “You were just trying to help; it’s not your fault.” Then he turned to me impatiently. “Maya, don’t push your luck. Apologize to Sophia! And go back to the center quietly, or you’ll never see the baby again!” Without waiting for my reaction, he waved to the orderlies behind him, signaling them to take me away by force. Just as their rough hands grabbed me, pulling me up— My brother, Chris, walked in through the door. His gaze was ice-cold, his face stern. Behind him stood several tall, imposing bodyguards. “What do you think you’re doing to my sister?” A couple of bodyguards stepped forward, grabbed the orderlies, and slapped them hard across the face, again and again, until their cheeks were swollen. These were the same monsters who had abused me. Back then, I didn’t know the center belonged to Sophia. Treated like that, I thought maybe I was in some kind of psych ward. I begged them to let me call Ethan. They just laughed cruelly. “It was your husband and Ms. Sophia who put you in here. You think he’s going to come get you out?” My heart dropped. The C-section scar throbbed. Guessing they were deliberately sent to torture me, I snapped, “You’re assaulting a patient! That’s illegal! Aren’t you afraid of getting arrested?” Their tone was pure contempt. “We’ve been open for ages, taken in countless new moms. Nobody’s ever successfully reported us. Who the hell do you think you are?” “Just behave yourself in here, and we’ll take real good care of you!” They didn’t want to waste more words. Their faces turned menacing, their fingernails dirty black as they pressed down hard on my incision. The pain was blinding; blood slowly seeped from the wound. And at that exact moment, my husband was parading his love for his old flame in front of the media. … Ethan looked at my brother, visibly shaken. His expression flickered. Cautiously, he said, “Maya might have postpartum depression. I just wanted her to get some rest and treatment.” “Funny, I wasn’t aware my sister had PPD,” Chris scoffed. “You think the medical team at Lin Corp can’t compare to your little wellness center?” Ethan’s face finally drained of color. He whipped his head around to look at me, his voice dry. “Maya, the CEO of Lin Corp is your brother? Why didn’t you tell me?” I gave him a cold smile. “My brother was busy, he couldn’t make our wedding. I was planning a nice family dinner after the baby was born, get everyone together. Who knew you’d ship me off to that hellhole instead?” Back then, my parents had reluctantly agreed to let me be with Ethan, but they wanted to “observe” him longer. They told me not to reveal our family’s situation to him. So, he had no idea I was the sister of Chris Lin, CEO of Lin Corporation. Coincidentally, my grandfather got sick this year, so my parents went abroad with him for treatment. Chris was tied up with overseas business. That’s why, when I had complications during labor, Ethan was the only one I could turn to. 3 Ethan looked like he was about to crumble. I knew his company had been struggling recently. He’d been bending over backward, wining and dining one of my brother’s VPs, desperate to land a partnership project with Lin Corp. Chris casually draped a jacket over my shoulders, then turned to Ethan with a smirk. “You know, I was actually considering what my sister said the other day… giving your company the project, partnering up. Wasn’t out of the question. But seeing how you treat her…” Of course, Chris was bluffing. I wanted Ethan to taste hope, only to have it snatched away. A flicker of desperate hope crossed Ethan’s eyes, though he tried to maintain composure. He grabbed my hand, his tone reproachful. “Why didn’t you tell me something so important? “Sending you to the recovery center was for your own good! But if you didn’t like it, fine.” Every word was an excuse, shifting blame, completely ignoring the suffering I endured there. Seeing this, my brother barely contained his anger. “My sister suffered in that place,” he said contemptuously. “I won’t make things difficult. We’ll just follow the law. Report this center, get the person in charge and the abusers thrown in jail. Stop them from hurting anyone else.” Hearing this, Sophia finally panicked. She tugged at Ethan’s sleeve, crying, “Ethan, I didn’t know they’d treat Maya like that! I just wanted her to have the best care, I swear I didn’t know… “Maya, if you have to blame someone, blame me. Ethan didn’t know anything.” She cried so pitifully, looking every bit the innocent victim. Sophia was Ethan’s childhood neighbor, the girl he’d crushed on, the one that got away. Back then, she’d flirted with him but refused to commit, marrying some rich guy instead. But the rich guy’s family went bankrupt soon after. She got divorced and came back with her kid. From that moment on, Ethan started staying out all night. All she had to do was put on a damsel-in-distress act, mention her kid was sick and she didn’t know what to do. Ethan would drop everything, leave my side instantly, and rush to her. Meanwhile, I was heavily pregnant, going to prenatal checkups alone. When I had a fever, I had to call a ride-share myself. I had insisted on marrying Ethan against my parents’ wishes. Now I was reaping the bitter consequences, swallowing them alone. I didn’t want my parents to worry, so I always told them everything was fine when they called. I never imagined it would embolden them to escalate things this far. I laughed coldly. “One ‘I didn’t know’ and you wash your hands of it all? If apologies actually fixed anything, what would be the point of the police?” The air grew thick with tension. Chris helped me sit down at a table with some tea, watching Ethan and Sophia’s faces shift through various shades of panic. “You two should leave,” Chris said flatly. “You’re not welcome here. “And Ethan, forget about the business deal.” The next second, Ethan suddenly spun around and slapped Sophia hard across the face. “Who told you to treat my wife like that?” he roared. Sophia clutched her reddening cheek, eyes wide with disbelief. I almost laughed out loud. Wow, Ethan really was ruthless. Willing to strike his precious Sophia just to protect his interests. I remembered how, not long ago, Sophia had falsely accused me of burning her finger. Ethan had shoved me away so violently I hit my head, then forced me to apologize. He stayed away for days, saying he’d only come back and forgive me when I truly admitted I was wrong. I’d wanted to divorce him right then, but while getting my head wound treated at the hospital, I found out I was pregnant. When Ethan learned I was pregnant, he was ecstatic. He instantly reverted to the attentive man he used to be. I thought it was because of the baby, the responsibility of a new life, that he’d had a change of heart. Only later did I learn the truth. Sophia had complications giving birth to her daughter and had a hysterectomy. She could never have children again. And the baby I was carrying… tests had shown it was a boy. Ethan stood with his back to me; I couldn’t see his expression. Sophia was sobbing, kneeling before me. “I’m so sorry, Maya.” Ethan put on a guilty face. “Maya, Sophia didn’t mean it. We grew up together; I just look out for her a little more sometimes.” I remained unmoved. I knew exactly what Ethan felt, or didn’t feel, for his old flame. I just asked coldly, “Where is my son?” Ethan quickly replied, “He’s at our place, safe and sound.” 4 My brother and I rushed over to my mother-in-law’s place. As soon as she opened the door and saw me, her face soured, and she physically blocked the entrance. “What do you want?” Ever since I married Ethan, she’d disliked me. She thought her precious son, with his looks and supposed wealth, deserved a rich heiress, not an “ordinary” woman like me. (Never mind that when Ethan and I got together, his company was just starting, he was broke, and the gifts he bought me cost less than one of my typical meals.) Before, I put up with her attitude for the sake of family harmony. Now, talking to her felt like a waste of breath. I simply nodded to the bodyguards behind me. One guard took each of her arms and pulled her aside. My mother-in-law struggled violently, screaming. “Help! Someone’s breaking in to steal the baby! Ethan? Didn’t you say you wouldn’t let her take the baby—” “Mom! Maya and I are here to see the baby! Why are you blocking the door?” Ethan cut her off sharply. I gave a cold smile, ignoring their little performance. Pushing the door open, I saw my precious baby boy nestled in his bassinet, chewing on his little foot. Maybe it was a mother’s connection, but the moment he saw me, he broke into a wide, toothless grin. I covered my mouth, tears welling up, and rushed over to hold him. I’d only glimpsed him briefly after he was born before passing out from the pain and exhaustion. It had been almost two months, and this was the first time I truly held him. So soft, so small, this tiny being I carried for ten months. “It’s okay, little one,” I whispered, holding him close. “Mommy won’t let anyone take you away from me ever again.” I cuddled him gently, and he soon fell asleep in my arms. I carefully placed him back in the bassinet and instructed the bodyguards to take him out first. My mother-in-law panicked. “That’s my Sterling grandson! Where are you taking him, you bitch?” Ethan snapped impatiently, “Mom! Maya is his mother! What are you talking about? This isn’t your business; go back to your room!” My mother-in-law looked furious, her chest heaving, but she listened to him and left. Ethan gently put an arm around me. “See, Maya? Now you believe me, right?” I managed a smile. “Believe what? He’s my son, of course he is. But right now, the whole world thinks he’s Sophia’s child, that you two are the happy family.” Ethan rushed to reassure me. “That was all Sophia’s idea! She insisted on going. I only went along with it for the company’s image. “Come on, Maya, everything I do, all the hard work for the company, isn’t it all to give you and the baby a better life?” If I believed that load of crap, I really would be an idiot. But simply sending Sophia to jail wasn’t enough. I wanted her reputation utterly destroyed. And Ethan, the main culprit, had to face his own reckoning. After a moment’s thought, I said, “I want you to hold another party. A proper one. And in front of all the media, you will acknowledge me as your wife and the mother of our child. Everyone needs to know the truth.” Ethan readily promised. Before he could relax, I turned, looking at Sophia’s delicate, tear-streaked face, and added with a sweet smile: “Of course, Ms. Sophia wronged me significantly. She publicly tried to steal my husband and my child. So naturally, she also needs to publicly kneel and apologize to me. “Any objections, Ms. Sophia?” Sophia’s face instantly turned deathly pale.

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Around here, I have a nickname: “Liam’s lapdog.” We were childhood sweethearts, but I basically forced him to marry me. After the wedding, he treated me like ice, but I acted like I didn’t care. Today is our third wedding anniversary. I was scrolling through Instagram and saw a post from Claire Foster, his old flame: “Apart for so long, but thank goodness you were always there.” The picture? A candlelight dinner. Liam’s profile was unmistakable. I liked the post and commented: “Wishing you both the best.” The next second, my phone rang. It was Liam. “Stop obsessing over stupid stuff online,” he snapped. “Tonight’s Claire’s welcome home party. Everyone’s having a good time.” Then I heard him turn away from the phone. “Don’t mind her,” he said to Claire. “She’s always been petty like that.” Yeah. Petty enough to love him my entire youth. In that instant, something snapped. I was finally awake. 1. Liam didn’t get home until the middle of the night, reeking of alcohol. He collapsed onto the sofa. “Ava, get over here.” He always did this. Come home, demand I untie his tie. He’d get pissed if I wasn’t there. Martha, our housekeeper, told me once he’d also come home drunk, sat on the sofa, and just waited for me until god knows when because I was out. I rubbed my eyes, dragged myself downstairs, and undid his tie. As I turned to leave, he grabbed my arm. He pulled a small jewelry box from his pocket. “Claire wanted me to give this to you. Said she was worried you’d misunderstand. She felt so bad she rushed out to buy it right after dinner.” I opened it. A cheap bracelet. I managed a small smile. “Wow, she really shouldn’t have. Found this at the gift shop downstairs from the restaurant, huh?” Liam wasn’t amused. “What’s that supposed to mean? It’s the thought that counts. It shows she values you.” I stared at the obviously plastic charm dangling from the chain and had to bite back laughter. Liam leaned closer, sniffing the air around me with disgust. “Ava, haven’t I told you to shower when you get sweaty? Why don’t you ever listen?” Liam’s a neat freak. After we got married, he demanded I always smell fresh. Even in summer, if I broke a sweat, I had to shower immediately. Tonight, my emotions were too raw. I’d gone for a run earlier, trying to clear my head, then just sat staring out the window for hours after I got back. Usually, I’d jump to do whatever he said. But right then, I just froze. Seeing me motionless, he gave me a shove. “Ava, what are you spacing out for? Go shower, then make me some detox tea.” After I made the tea, he suggested, “Since Claire got you a gift, you should return the favor tomorrow. Go shopping, pick something out. It’s important to reciprocate.” I shot him a look. “How about I take her out for a nice meal too? You know, soothe her wounded feelings?” Before I could blink, Liam handed me his phone. “Call her yourself and set it up. She’s probably still awake.” Married three years, and Liam never gave a damn about my schedule. But Claire’s? He knew it by heart. 2. When I didn’t move, Liam dialed her number himself and put it on speaker. Claire picked up almost instantly. “Hey there, handsome,” she cooed. “Home already and missing me?” I cringed so hard my toes curled. Mortifying. Liam saw my expression darken and quickly took the phone off speaker, walking away to murmur a few things privately. I turned to go upstairs, but he grabbed me again after hanging up. His face was tight with annoyance. “What’s your problem now? She was drunk, just joking around.” I just nodded. “Mm-hmm.” That seemed to piss him off more. He shoved me hard. I lost my balance and banged my knee against the edge of the sofa. Blood instantly welled up. I have hemophobia – I get faint at the sight of blood. Liam knows this. He panicked. “Okay, sit down, sit down! I’ll get the first-aid kit.” He frantically rummaged through it for gauze, but there wasn’t even a scrap left. “When did this first-aid kit get so empty?” he muttered, annoyed. I didn’t tell him I’d used the last of the gauze the day before when I cut my finger making the steak dinner he wanted. I didn’t want him to think I was being dramatic. He knelt, disinfected the cut, and then said, “Maybe I should take you to the pharmacy? Get some more gauze, maybe some antiseptic wipes.” The thought of medicine made my stomach clench. I gently touched my belly. Over a month now. I’d waited for our anniversary, hoping… but he wasn’t even here. Tonight, I’d desperately wanted a drink to numb the ache, but I couldn’t decide about the baby yet. So I resisted. Claire posted last week: He says I’m always clumsy and getting bruised, so he thoughtfully put together a first-aid kit just for me. Thinking about that now… the contrast. I was the one who stocked everything in this house. Sometimes he’d find his shaving cream empty and yell at me. “Is this how you play the good wife? You can’t even keep track of basic necessities?” Back then, I’d just lower my head and apologize, terrified he’d get angry and storm out. When he got mad, he wouldn’t just block my number; he’d disappear for days. He wouldn’t come back until I used Martha’s phone to text him apologies until he felt satisfied. Then he might text back: “I’ll be home for dinner tonight. Make it early.” Of course, he’d only show up maybe four out of ten times he said that. Sometimes I’d just sit there, staring at a table full of cold food, my eyes stinging. I nodded now. “Okay, let’s go together. I could use a fruit smoothie anyway.” Liam pinched my waist. “Look at the time! And smoothies? What wife weighs over 130 pounds after getting married? Would it kill you to skip a snack?” I’ve always had a larger frame. Honestly, I watch my weight carefully. But Liam always compared me to his secretaries, his friends’ girlfriends. The cruelest was when he said, “If it wasn’t an arranged marriage to save my family’s company, do you think I would’ve looked twice at you?” Yeah. Back then, Walker Corp was tanking because of a shareholder scandal. My family proposed the marriage alliance. Liam was still moping because Claire had run off overseas chasing some other guy. His parents jumped at the offer. From dating to marriage, it all happened in less than a year. I knew he didn’t like me. Maybe even found me repulsive. Sex was like clocking in for a shift. Our parents were desperate for grandkids, so around my ovulation time, he’d grudgingly perform his husbandly duties for a few days. We’d just gotten into the car when Liam’s phone rang again. It was Claire, sounding weak on the other end. “Liam… I think I have that stomach bug again… throwing up, diarrhea… can you come get me? Please?” Liam glanced at me, then told me to get out of the car. I grabbed his wrist, pointed at my bleeding knee. “You said you were taking me to get bandages.” His face turned cold. “It’s just a scratch, Ava. Deal with it yourself. Claire sounds really sick; she might need the ER. Don’t be so selfish!” No matter how I pleaded, his expression stayed hard as he practically dragged me out of the car. “Just grab a cab or something,” he said dismissively. “Buying bandages isn’t rocket science.” Buying bandages isn’t hard, no. But he forgot that the sight of blood makes me tremble uncontrollably, makes my heart pound like crazy. Watching his taillights disappear, my heart plunged into an icy abyss. 3. I knew Liam wouldn’t be back tonight. I ordered takeout, along with gauze and antiseptic wipes. Every time Claire called Liam away, she’d almost always post about it later. I waited, eventually falling asleep, but no Instagram notification popped up. I thought about it again and decided against taking the allergy meds for the hives that always broke out when my hemophobia kicked in. I fell into an itchy, restless sleep, only jolted awake by a specific notification sound on my phone. The one I’d set just for Claire’s posts. I rubbed my eyes. A new picture: Claire in a hospital bed, hooked up to an IV. Liam had bought her a hot water bottle, heating pads, even ginger tea. You could see the dark circles under his eyes; he looked exhausted. I remembered a beach trip Liam took me on with his friends. I was on my period and didn’t want to go in the water. He’d grabbed my hand and pulled me into the ocean anyway. “When did you get so dramatic?” he’d snapped. “We’re all out here having fun, who are you sulking for?” His friends all stared at me. “I’m just not feeling well today,” I’d mumbled, embarrassed. “I was going to rest on the sand.” But Liam wouldn’t let go of my hand. That night, I was doubled over in bed with cramps, begging him to get me some painkillers. He’d been completely annoyed. “Why are you always so much trouble? Where am I supposed to find that stuff this late? Just tough it out.” He had no idea how bad period pain could be. I spent the whole night sweating and shivering, listening to his steady breathing beside me. The next morning, he actually laughed at me. “Wow, you got ugly overnight. Hurry up and put some makeup on.” He had such high standards for me. Controlled what I wore, even my accessories. Sometimes I’d buy jewelry I loved and show him, but he’d always scoff. “Your taste is just so… tacky.” But Claire wore similar styles all the time. And he’d comment under her posts: Looks great on you. Claire was a minor influencer, always shooting daily vlogs since college. This hospital post was the first time she’d shown Liam’s full face clearly. The comments poured in. “OMG, is that your BF? He’s so hot!” “Hot AND rich! Isn’t that watch like, over $100k? #Goals, girl, so jealous!” “Are you sick?? And the handsome CEO stayed with you all night? It’s real love, confirmed!” … The comment that stung the most was from Liam’s burner account: Such a big girl, still can’t take care of yourself. Silly goose. Silly goose. So intimate. Even though Liam’s burner account only reposted sports highlights, I’d found it. He’d logged in on the tablet once and forgotten to log out. I quietly followed him. At first, I told myself he just wanted privacy from his official, verified account. But then I saw his comments on Claire’s posts. I realized how naive I’d been. This wasn’t just innocent interaction. They were practically flaunting it, just hiding it slightly. In all these years, Liam had never even made me a cup of hot tea for cramps, let alone stayed up all night. He complained if I asked him to blend a smoothie when he was making one for himself. Seeing that post, tears welled up automatically. 4. The doctor said my progesterone levels were unstable and told me to come back for a follow-up in a week. I dragged myself out of bed the next morning. Before I could even leave, Liam walked in, looking exhausted. He tossed his jacket at me. “Go get me some breakfast. I’m dead tired. Need to eat and crash.” Last night, I’d texted my best friend, Sarah Davis, planning to meet her at the hospital at 9 AM. I hate flaking on plans. I pushed his jacket back. “Order delivery. I have to go out.” Liam grabbed my chin, studying my face. “You’re not still pissed about yesterday, are you? It’s been a whole night.” Right. That was Liam’s way. He knew I was angry, but he always gave me the silent treatment, assuming time would fix everything. I laughed humorlessly. “It’s in the past.” His expression soured. “Ava, why are you always like this? Who are you trying to punish with that sour face first thing in the morning?” Seeing my jaw clench, he knelt, looking at my bandaged knee. “Does it still hurt? Want me to take you to the clinic to get it properly cleaned?” I took two steps back. “It’s been a whole night,” I said flatly. “What’s the point of saying that now?” “I’m fine.” I turned away, unable to look at him. Liam stood up, his tone chilling. “Maybe I should take you to the hospital anyway. Just so you don’t run complaining to Mom and Dad that I don’t care about you.” I took a deep breath. His parents had asked me a few times how Liam treated me. I remembered always saying he was great, just really busy, so we didn’t see each other much. How did that translate to me “complaining” in his mind? “Well, it’s the truth, isn’t it?” I snapped back. “I got hurt, and you just left me there.” Liam pointed a finger at me, his voice rising. “Ava, can you please try to be reasonable? How many times do I have to explain?” I didn’t say anything. I just opened Instagram and pulled up Claire’s hospital post. Liam froze for a second, then started explaining. “She just likes posting stuff, building her followers. Can’t you just let her have this? Besides, random strangers online don’t know who we are.” He reached for my hand. “Look, Claire was really sick last night. Her parents aren’t around. I couldn’t just leave her. You have to understand.” I looked at his calm face. “It’s fine,” I said tonelessly. “She was sick, weak. Of course, you should stay with her.” Hearing this, Liam smiled, squeezing my hand. “I’m glad you’re not upset.” Just then, I noticed a faint red mark on his neck, trying to hide under his collar. A year ago, even a month ago, I would have exploded. Screamed, demanded answers. But now? I calmly pointed to it. “You might want to cover that up better. You’re usually so careful about your image.” A flash of panic crossed Liam’s eyes. He bolted to the bathroom mirror. “Don’t get the wrong idea!” he called out. “It’s just a mosquito bite from the hospital yesterday! You know how sensitive my skin is.” I nodded slowly. “Are you heading out now? Need a ride to get breakfast?” Liam happily hopped into the passenger seat. We hadn’t even reached the breakfast spot when his phone rang again. Distracted for just a second, I slammed on the brakes too late and hit a stone pillar. Instantly, a sharp pain shot through my abdomen. I gripped Liam’s hand tightly. “Call 911! Quick! My stomach hurts!” His phone was still ringing incessantly. He frowned, answered it. Hearing Claire say her stomach bug was back, he prepared to jump out and grab a cab to her place, leaving me behind. “Liam, don’t go!” I screamed, my voice cracking. “I’m bleeding…” He glanced at me dismissively. “Stop being dramatic, Ava. What a lame excuse. Claire has a stomach bug, so suddenly you have stomach pain too? Are you trying to copy her now?” I grabbed his sleeve, desperate. “Please,” I begged. “Stay with me. I’m pregnant. I’m really bleeding.” Liam yanked his arm away. “Stop lying!” he snarled. “Don’t you think I’d know if you were pregnant?” His words hit me like a physical blow. My body went rigid, and I crumpled to the ground. Blood pooled beneath me, spreading like a dark, slow-blooming flower. Liam seemed not to see it. He got back in the car, drove away, the tires rolling over the edge of the crimson stain.

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Three years into our marriage, my husband Ethan’s college sweetheart, Claire, came back to the States. And she brought a child with her—a child who, everyone whispered, was Ethan’s. Suddenly, I, his wife, was the pathetic one. The doormat who supposedly clawed her way into being Mrs. Cole. Everyone said Ethan only married me because Claire left the country, and he made a rash decision out of spite. It finally hit me. I was never the main character in this story. But this time, I refused to be just a supporting character in theirs. “Ms. Hayes, congratulations, you’re pregnant.” I held the test results, my hand instinctively going to my stomach. But all I felt was bitterness. This baby couldn’t have come at a worse time. Two days ago, I got an anonymous text: “Claire Vance is back. The kid she brought with her is Ethan Cole’s.” That day was my birthday. It was also our third wedding anniversary. Ethan took a call that morning and then vanished for two days straight. My calls went unanswered. Claire was back, so naturally, I was forgotten. Snapping back to the present, I clutched the test results and headed to Ethan’s company. Three years of marriage, and now a baby on the way. Whatever the truth was, I needed to hear it from Ethan, face-to-face. Walking into the lobby, the receptionists gave me a fleeting look of panic. I nodded curtly and stepped into the elevator. Just before the doors closed, I heard their hushed whispers: “Is Mrs. Cole here for a showdown?” “Who do you think Mr. Cole will side with? I heard the woman upstairs is his college sweetheart.” Ethan’s assistant, Mr. Davis, saw me and, unusually, tried to block my path. “Mrs. Cole, you’re here. Let me inform Mr. Cole.” Seeing his uncomfortable expression, I took a deep breath and pushed past him. “No need. I’ll go find him myself.” I pushed open the heavy door to the CEO’s office. The cozy scene inside stabbed at my eyes. Ethan and Claire were huddled close, discussing something intently. On the nearby sofa, a little boy was playing with building blocks. They looked like a perfect, happy family of three. Hearing the door, Ethan looked up. Seeing me, he frowned. “What are you doing here?” I stepped inside. “What? Am I interrupting something?” His face darkened, and he was about to speak when Claire placed a calming hand on his arm. “Ava,” she said, “long time no see.” I watched their easy intimacy, a bitter smile twisting my lips. Four years had passed, but seeing them together felt just like college. Like they belonged to a world I was forever excluded from. My eyes drifted to the boy on the sofa. I asked the question that had kept me up for two nights. “Long time no see, Claire.” “Is this your son? Where’s his father? Didn’t he come back with you?” Claire’s eyes flickered, her face clouding over. The boy seemed to sense the tension and suddenly scrunched up his face and started crying. Ethan shot up from his seat, his face tight with anger. “That’s enough! If there’s nothing important, you should go home.” I looked at his displeased face, a familiar ache tightening my chest. Seeing my silence, Ethan softened his tone slightly. “Why are you asking about this? I’m extremely busy right now. Be good, go home first.” My hand tightened around the crumpled test results. “What about Claire? Why is she here?” He hesitated, a hint of guilt in his eyes. “Claire is my Special Assistant now.” I laughed, the sound sharp with irony. “Ethan Cole, you really have no shame, do you?” His face hardened completely. “Ava Hayes, don’t be unreasonable! Davis, escort Mrs. Cole out. And don’t let her in again for the time being.” With that, he turned back to Claire, gently coaxing the crying child with her. Mr. Davis looked miserable. “Mrs. Cole, please.” I fought back tears. “I can walk myself out. I don’t need an escort.” As I walked out of the office, looking defeated, I heard the low buzz of employee gossip: “Did Mrs. Cole just get kicked out?” “I heard if Ms. Vance hadn’t gone abroad, Mr. Cole never would have married this one.” “Is that kid really Mr. Cole’s? He does look a bit like him.” I forced myself to walk tall, head held high, out of Cole Corp. Once outside the main doors, I threw the wrinkled test results into a nearby trash can. The tears finally broke free, streaming down my face. 2 After leaving the company, I went back to my parents’ house, the Hayes house. Only my mother was home. My father was off somewhere with his latest mistress. We ate lunch in silence. Suddenly, she spoke. “Your father is seeing some starlet again, isn’t he?” My hand paused mid-air. “Who told you that?” Though I knew it was because this particular affair was very public. My mother put down her chopsticks, her expression bleak. “If only I could have given your father a son. Maybe he wouldn’t be like this now.” A wave of sadness washed over me. My mother had married down, supporting my father when he was starting from scratch. She loved him desperately. But once he made his money, the affairs started and never stopped. At first, my mother screamed herself hoarse, cursing him and his mistresses. Later, her emotions grew unstable. She started blaming herself for not giving him a son, fantasizing that a boy might have made him settle down. But my father hadn’t come home in a long time. We finished the meal in silence. I drove back to the house Ethan and I shared after getting married. I threw myself onto the bed, an unprecedented wave of exhaustion washing over me. That evening, Ethan actually came home, which was rare. He didn’t see me when he came in. Tossing his coat aside, he asked the housekeeper, “Where’s Ava? Why isn’t she down for dinner?” The housekeeper replied worriedly, “Ma’am came back this afternoon and went straight to bed. Maybe she’s not feeling well.” Ethan came upstairs and pushed open my bedroom door. “What are you still sulking about? Claire and I are just colleagues. Can’t you stop being so petty!” I lay in bed, not wanting to speak. He walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling me out from under the covers. Seeing my swollen eyes, he sighed. “You’ve always wanted to go to Switzerland, right? Once things calm down here, I’ll take you.” I stared into his eyes. “That little boy at your office today…” Before I could finish, Ethan cut me off, his face darkening. “Ava, don’t ask about that child.” I clutched the duvet tighter. “Why?” Just then, Ethan’s phone rang. Claire’s anxious voice came through the line. “Ethan, Leo seems to have a fever. Can you come over quickly?” Ethan immediately stood up and headed for the door. Before leaving, he seemed to remember something. “Tomorrow is the AU Centennial Gala. I have things to take care of tonight, so I won’t be back. Have the driver take you there tomorrow.” I watched his retreating back. That night, I slept fitfully, haunted by dreams of the past. 3 My mother and Ethan’s mother were best friends. They’d practically arranged our marriage when we were kids. As I got older, it was only natural that I fell for the brilliant and handsome Ethan Cole. I wasn’t as smart as him. I killed myself studying just to get into the same university, AU. But my grades were still far below AU’s standards. Crushed by reality, I hid away to cry in secret. Ethan found me. Seeing my tear-streaked face, he chuckled, half exasperated. “What are you doing hiding here and crying?” I sobbed, “My grades are too low. I can’t go to AU with you.” He reached out, pulled me up, and wiped the tears from my face. The sunlight caught him, making his features look even more defined and handsome. “Alright, seeing how sincere you are, I guess I can help you out.” For the next year and a half, Ethan spent time every day tutoring me. In the end, I barely scraped into a less popular major at AU. Walking onto the AU campus with Ethan, my heart soared with joy. Maybe Ethan liked me too. It wasn’t until Claire Vance appeared that I realized it was all just my fantasy. Claire and Ethan were both Computer Science majors. She was as brilliant as he was. She didn’t need Ethan to explain problems to her; she could confidently debate complex topics with him that went completely over my head. They teamed up for competitions, spending more and more time together. The admiration in Ethan’s eyes when he looked at her grew deeper. It was a look he never gave me. I felt like an outsider, excluded from their world. Everyone saw them as the golden couple, destined to be together. I finally mustered the courage to ask Ethan if he had feelings for Claire. If he said yes, no matter how heartbroken I’d be, I would let him go and wish them well. Ethan shoved his hands in his pockets, looking impatient. “Claire is a respected rival and a trusted partner to me.” Before I could say more, Claire’s cool voice called out from nearby, “Ethan, let’s go. Professor Thompson’s class is next.” Ethan tossed a parting shot— “Stop letting your imagination run wild all day”—and left. Watching them walk away side-by-side, I felt the distance between Ethan and me growing wider and wider. Just when everyone assumed they would end up together, during our junior year, Claire abruptly applied to study abroad. After graduation, pushed by both our families, Ethan and I got married. Ethan had already left Cole Corp during his senior year to start his own business. After the wedding, he was consumed by work. I barely saw him during the day, but at night, he was surprisingly passionate. Just as I started to secretly hope that maybe Ethan did have feelings for me after all… Claire came back. And she brought a little boy with her, who looked remarkably like Ethan. 4 I hadn’t planned on going to the Gala. I didn’t want to see Ethan and Claire. But the next morning, I received a text from my favorite professor from college. So, I had the driver take me to AU. After greeting my professor, a volunteer led me to the university’s main hall. As one of the top universities in the country, AU’s Centennial Gala was a grand affair. Former classmates spotted me and greeted me warmly. Someone asked, “Ava, didn’t Ethan come with you?” A woman who used to pursue Ethan chimed in meaningfully, “I heard Claire Vance is back. And she brought a child with her.” Suddenly, a stir went through the crowd. Claire walked into the hall, arm-in-arm with Ethan. Old classmates from the Computer Science department immediately swarmed them, teasing, “Well, well, look who it is! Our golden couple!” “Years have passed, but you two are still the perfect match, so good-looking together!” The classmates around me cast pitying glances my way. My hands trembled slightly. It felt like college all over again. Whenever those two appeared together, I was always the forgotten supporting character. Ethan saw me and walked over. The teasing crowd fell silent, as if just noticing my presence. He stood before me, his handsome brow furrowed again. “Why are you only wearing a dress? Aren’t you cold?” He shrugged off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders. A few classmates who were friendly with me quickly chimed in, “See? Mr. Cole really knows how to dote on his wife.” Across the room, Claire watched us, her expression unreadable. Suddenly, she called out, “Ethan, Professor Thompson is here. Let’s go say hello.” Ethan murmured to me, “Wait for me, we’ll leave together,” then turned and walked with Claire towards an elderly man. Professor Thompson was old, his memory fading, but he still remembered his two most brilliant students. He took Ethan’s and Claire’s hands, placing them together, beaming. “So you two finally got together! Wonderful, wonderful.” Someone in the crowd, clearly enjoying the drama, called out, “Professor Thompson, you didn’t know? Ethan and Claire even have a child now!” A hush fell over the hall. Many people there knew Claire had returned with a boy who resembled Ethan. A child whose age suggested he was born before Ethan and I were married. Professor Thompson beamed, patting their joined hands. “Really? That’s wonderful news!” Ethan kept his eyes lowered, never uttering a word of denial. My heart sank completely. Whispers reached my ears: “So the child really is Ethan’s? What about his wife?” “In front of everyone… Ethan isn’t giving his wife any face at all.” “Men always hold a candle for their first love, don’t they? Though Ava Hayes was never really good enough for Ethan. Claire coming back just sets things right.” The buzzing voices made it hard to breathe. My stomach churned violently. Ignoring the strange looks from the crowd, I rushed out of the suffocating hall. Stumbling outside, I leaned against a tree, vomiting miserably. My phone suddenly rang. The housekeeper’s panicked voice on the other end sent my mind reeling: “Miss Hayes, come home quick! Your mother… she tried to kill herself!” 5 By the time I frantically arrived back at the Hayes house, paramedics were loading my mother onto a stretcher. A deep, bloody gash marred her wrist. Blood flowed relentlessly, impossible to stanch. My hands trembling, I rode in the ambulance with her to the hospital. Mother was rushed into the emergency room. The harsh hospital lights made my head throb. Pale and hoarse, I called my father. “Where are you? Mom tried to kill herself!” His irritated voice snapped back, “Damn nuisance!” before he hung up. Numbly, I dialed Ethan’s number. Listening to the ringing, my heart clenched painfully. Ethan, please, I really need you right now. The phone rang for a long time before finally being answered. Before I could speak, Ethan’s heavy voice came through. “Claire’s been admitted. I’m staying with her at the hospital. Don’t call me for a while.” The dial tone buzzed in my ear, plunging me into an icy abyss. The emergency room doors opened. A doctor walked out and looked at me, shaking his head helplessly. I couldn’t stand anymore. I crumpled to the floor, tears streaming down my face. 6 My mother’s family had all passed away long ago. Like a zombie, I handled her funeral arrangements alone. Back at the house, sorting through her belongings, I found a letter she’d left for me: “Ava, my sweetheart, I’m so sorry. Mama was in too much pain. This was selfish, but it was the only way out.” “If Ethan ever does something to hurt you, don’t be like Mama, trapped in a dead marriage, suffocating yourself. Mama believes you are much braver than her.” Tears soaked the letter, blurring the ink. Once I composed myself, I contacted a divorce lawyer. Then I took a taxi to the hospital. There, I ran into Ethan and Claire. Ethan was holding Leo. Seeing me, he blurted out, “What are you doing here!” I exhaled slowly. “I came for a check-up.” He seemed to realize his tone was harsh. Hearing I was there for an appointment, he asked with concern, “Are you not feeling well?” Leo, in his arms, tugged at his sleeve. “Daddy, we need to go get Mommy’s medicine.” A mocking smile touched my lips as I looked at Ethan. He shifted uncomfortably. “I’ll just go get the prescription filled. I’ll be right back. Wait here for me.” He walked off holding the child, but Claire didn’t follow him.

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My mom, terminal with cancer, sat in a wheelchair with an oxygen tank, having endured a grueling twenty-hour Greyhound bus ride just to be at my wedding to Ethan. But when it was his time to walk down the aisle, I called his name until I was hoarse, but he was nowhere in sight. Turns out, his childhood sweetheart, Sophia, was having a depressive episode, threatening suicide again: “Ethan, I can’t live without you.” My usually stoic fiancé was holding Sophia tightly, desperately begging me to stop the wedding, to let them leave. Relatives and friends tried to stifle their laughter, watching the absolute train wreck unfold. Right at that moment, as she crossed the hotel threshold, my mom took her last breath. My wedding became her funeral. Seeing my mom dead, Ethan’s eyes reddened slightly as he looked at me, a hint of guilt surfacing. “I promise, as soon as I get her checked into the ER, I’ll rush right back to marry you. I promise we’ll fulfill Mom’s last wish.” But he forgot, this was the 96th time he’d hurt me. And I wasn’t going to marry him anymore. Calmly, I texted him, breaking things off. Ethan, however, just brought his childhood sweetheart back to our home. 1. “The groom ran off with another woman, right at the altar! Any normal person would lose it, but she actually let him go?” “Tsk tsk, mother and daughter both have bad luck with men, can’t even hold onto one. So embarrassing!” Below the stage, guests pointed and whispered about me. My mom, overwhelmed by Ethan’s cruelty, collapsed, unconscious. “Mom!” I screamed, catching her, starting chest compressions, trying desperately to perform CPR. Everyone was startled, but no one stepped forward to help. Panicked, I begged Ethan, “Ethan! Please, can we get my mom to the hospital first?” Ethan, still holding Sophia, saw everything. He shot a cold glance at my mom, his voice dripping with impatience. “You say your mom’s dying every other day. How long are you going to keep up this act?” “Sophia’s depression is life-threatening. Having another person in the car could trigger her even more. Are you trying to kill her?” His entire world revolved around Sophia. He didn’t even care that my mom had collapsed. He’d completely forgotten that his entire successful business was built on the life savings my mom scraped together for him to start it. How could someone be so cold-blooded? I kept doing compressions, but Mom didn’t wake up. Seeing this, the crowd finally panicked, chaos erupted, and someone finally called 911. Amidst the commotion, Ethan tried to leave, but Sophia, fidgeting, stopped him. After Ethan coaxed her gently several times, Sophia spoke, her voice sickeningly sweet and manipulative: “Ethan, I feel really awful. Since Auntie isn’t using her wheelchair right now, could I maybe use it?” Instantly, complex gazes fell upon me. And I just stared, hard, at Ethan. The wedding was ruined. My mother and I were already beyond humiliated. Now he wanted to push it even further, take my dying mother’s wheelchair for Sophia? Feeling the woman in his arms tremble, Ethan’s eyes filled with guilt as he looked at me: “Chloe, your mom isn’t using the wheelchair right now anyway. Letting Sophia use it for a bit… you wouldn’t refuse, right?” A bitter taste filled my mouth. I almost forgot. Sophia was his childhood sweetheart. The one who made Ethan ditch my birthdays, ignore me when I was sick, even when my mom was critically ill. The reason he’d sabotaged our wedding eight times before this. How could I possibly win against that? But I didn’t want to agree. Probably sensing my answer, Ethan spoke again after a moment: “Years ago, you promised you’d grant me ninety-nine requests, unconditionally. Let this be one of those requests, okay?” “You still have dozens left, right?” Hearing Ethan say this, my eyes instantly welled up. Back when my mom first got seriously ill, it was Ethan who knelt by her bedside, begging her to let him marry me. He sold everything he owned to scrape together money for her treatment. Mom was deeply grateful and agreed to the marriage. I asked him then how I could ever repay such kindness. He scratched his head, casually saying: “Your mom already agreed to let us get married.” But I insisted: “My mom is my mom. I am me.” Sensing my sincerity, he said: “Then… just unconditionally grant me 99 requests, or let me hurt you 99 times, and we’d call it even.” In the four years after we got engaged, Ethan never made a single request. Until Sophia reappeared a year ago. Since then, he’d used up 96. But this time, he was wrong. First, there weren’t “dozens” left. Second, this involved my mother’s life. I could never agree. What I didn’t expect was that before I could even answer, Ethan grabbed the wheelchair and put Sophia in it. “Remember, you owe me one less now.” Seeing him act like this, and not wanting to waste time arguing, I had no choice but to lift my mother onto my back myself. But as I passed Sophia, I caught a fleeting, malicious smirk on her face. The next second, she stuck her foot out, tripping me. I crashed hard onto the floor, my chin hitting the tile. Pain shot through my entire body. Mom was thrown from my back. Gasps erupted from the crowd. I scrambled to protect my mom. Beside me, Sophia spat out venomously: “Sister, even if you’re trying to fake a fall to get Ethan’s sympathy, you can’t be heartless enough to use your own mom, can you? Auntie’s still just pretending to be unconscious.” Someone in the crowd chimed in: “Ungrateful daughter! Your mom’s collapsed, and you’re still here fighting over a man? Shameless!” Unable to watch my humiliation, Ethan started to reach out to help me, but hearing the accusation, his hand dropped. “Chloe, get your mom up! Haven’t you embarrassed yourself enough?” Sophia tugged at Ethan’s sleeve. “Okay, Ethan, don’t be mad about this little thing. Quick, let’s go to the hospital pharmacy.” Seeing that I didn’t argue, just staggered to my feet and struggled to lift Mom onto my back again, limping. Ethan started pushing the wheelchair, following me, a hint of concern in his voice: “Maybe find someone to help you carry her?” Beside him, Sophia chuckled lightly: “Sister, you’re the woman who can carry a fridge up six flights of stairs. Why suddenly can’t you carry a person today?” “You’re not… deliberately blocking my way, are you?” Hearing this, Ethan instantly distanced himself from me, disgust flashing in his eyes: “Chloe, why have you become so petty? You know Sophia’s having an episode, yet you’re deliberately walking so slow. If you can’t walk, get out of the way! Don’t block the path!” Me, petty? He used to praise me for being understanding, saying he appreciated that I never questioned his need to care for Sophia, and he treated me well because of it. But later, after he ditched me countless times for Sophia, the moment I asked even a mild question, he called me small-minded, accusing me of picking on a sick person. And now, because of Sophia, we had become unrecognizable versions of ourselves. His heart had completely tilted away from me. After a long wait, the ambulance finally arrived. I placed Mom on the stretcher. Just as I was about to get in, Sophia grabbed my arm again: “Sister, I’m a patient too, I need to go to the hospital. Give me your spot.” I clenched my teeth so hard they ground together, looking at Ethan. Ethan looked awkward, and for once, he actually stopped her: “They don’t need to take you. I’ll drive you to the hospital. Be good.” Only then did the ambulance doors close. An hour later, I sat outside the emergency room, tears streaming down my face. Mom didn’t make it. She died in the ER. The doctor said the ambulance arrived too late. If it had been just ten minutes earlier, the outcome might have been different. As I stood numbly outside the ER, Ethan finally showed up. The thought that Mom would still be alive if not for him and Sophia consumed me. Overcome with grief, I wanted to slap him across the face. But unexpectedly, the moment I raised my hand, he caught it excitedly. His face lit up with happiness: “Chloe, thank god you were understanding enough to stop the wedding and let us go! Sophia’s episode was really serious. You were so considerate, you saved her life again.” He glanced at the extinguished light above the ER door and said casually: “Looks like Mom’s okay too. Great. You take care of Mom first, I’ll come visit her when I have time.” “Next time, I promise the wedding will go smoothly. Mom will definitely get to see us get married, my beautiful bride…” He finished speaking and ran off. He had no idea. Once the debt was repaid, I was leaving. And my mom would never see me get married. 2 While I arranged for Mom’s cremation, he was still with Sophia. I brought her ashes home, packed up her belongings. The housekeeper watched my strange behavior, looking confused. Just then, Ethan sent a gift via the bridal shop staff: two more wedding dresses. He specifically included a message: one was an apology for the interrupted wedding, the other compensation for taking Mom’s wheelchair. As the dresses were fully displayed, the young employee gushed, practically seeing pink bubbles around me: “Mrs. Jiang— Oh, I mean, soon-to-be Mrs. Evans— your fiancé bought out our entire new collection for you! You are so lucky.” My face was blank. Inside, I just wanted to break down and sob. They didn’t know. This was just Ethan’s routine compensation after hurting me. My eyes were empty as I watched them hang the dresses on hangers number 96 and 97. An entire room filled with wedding dresses, with only the last two hangers in the corner remaining empty. I looked away. I knew I’d be leaving soon. I placed the urn and Mom’s belongings on the table in the sunroom. I quickly packed a suitcase. Just as I put the suitcase by the wall, Ethan returned with Sophia. He was carrying lots of supplements he’d bought for Mom. He was always so thoughtful, so considerate. For a hazy moment, it almost felt like the man who had coldly watched my mother die wasn’t him at all. But the next second, conflict erupted. Sophia’s sharp eyes spotted the urn. She let out a sudden, piercing scream as if terrified. Her “depressive episode” flared up. She reached out and swatted the urn off the table. The ceramic box shattered, scattering ashes all over the floor. My vision turned red. I lunged forward, shoving Sophia away, screaming uncontrollably: “Get away! Don’t touch my mom!” Sophia shrank back into Ethan’s arms, sobbing. “I’m sorry, sister, my depression acted up again… But do you hate me that much? Did you deliberately buy a fake dead person prop and put it here just to scare me?” Ethan, instantly furious and protective of Sophia, unleashed a torrent of accusations at me: “Chloe, you know Sophia has depression! Did you buy this disgusting prop to scare her to death? You’re truly malicious! Apologize right now!” “If you know what’s good for you, I might still agree to reschedule the wedding. Otherwise, forget about your mom ever seeing you get married!” Scrambling on the floor, trying to gather the ashes back into the broken container, I screamed back at him, my voice raw with anguish: “Ethan, these are my mother’s ashes!” Ethan grew up in a single-parent household; he never had a mother. Ever since we got together, my mom treated him like her own son. He used to help out at her little dumpling stand every day. When she was bedridden for long periods, he patiently cared for her. He treated my mom like his own mother. Hearing this, surely he’d react somehow, right? But after a brief pause, a mocking smile twisted his lips: “Sophia said your mom isn’t dead. What are you pretending for? Besides, she’s your mom, not mine. Even if she did die, what’s it got to do with me?” Sophia suddenly clutched her head and started crying dramatically, her words utterly vile: “Sister, why are you lying to frame me? Auntie just called me last night, calling me a bitch and a whore, telling me to stay away from Ethan.” “It’s true, I’m sick, I’m shameless, I’m pathetic for clinging to Ethan. I should just listen to Auntie and go die…” My mom died two days ago. She was blatantly lying, slandering my dead mother! Yet, Ethan believed this outrageous lie. “You’re lying—” I shot back, but my fury was cut short as Ethan kicked me, sending me sprawling. “Chloe, how can you and your mother be so disgusting? If you don’t apologize to Sophia today, don’t even think about getting up!” My head hit the wall. Blood trickled down. I stared at him, my gaze filled with deathly stillness. Seeing the blood, he faltered for a second, then changed his tone slightly: “Forget it. Look at you, bleeding all over. Don’t be an eyesore here, you’ll just upset Sophia.” Sophia, Sophia, his mind was filled with Sophia. Fine. Let him spend the rest of his life with Sophia! Gritting my teeth, I gathered the broken urn and ashes, went upstairs, and back to my room. Behind me, a soft voice drifted up: “Ethan, will sister be upset now that she’s been exposed?” “She brought it on herself. What right does she have to be upset!” I slammed the door shut, finally blocking out the mockery from outside. My dad died young. Mom raised me alone, working tirelessly at her street stall. And I couldn’t even protect her ashes. They were thrown on the ground by someone else. Maybe this was Mom’s way of telling me from heaven that it was time to let go of all this entanglement, that I couldn’t stay here any longer. After crying silently for a long time, I picked up the calendar from the desk. I circled today’s date and marked it with the number 98. The door opened quietly sometime later. Ethan tiptoed over to my side. Before I could close the calendar, he snatched it away. Ethan frowned, looking at the red circle that had nearly torn through the paper. Annoyance flickered in his eyes. “What’s this circle around 98 supposed to mean?” 3 I quickly grabbed the calendar back and closed it. “Nothing, just spacing out.” He seemed surprised by my calmness, then suddenly remembered something: “You should really try to break that spacing-out habit. Last time, you almost got hit by a car.” He was talking about that time in college. I was agonizing over a clothing design, lost in thought, and wandered off the sidewalk into traffic. In that terrifying moment, he was the one who pulled me back. I treated him to dinner to thank him, and one thing led to another, sparking our relationship. Knowing he’d misinterpreted my current state, I didn’t explain, just gave a noncommittal nod. Lost in the memory of our college romance, a rare smile appeared on Ethan’s usually stern face: “Alright, don’t sulk alone. Come see this, I know you’ll love it.” He led me downstairs and snapped his fingers. Several housekeepers wheeled out an exquisite, luxurious wedding dress. “Chloe, you will be my most beautiful bride.” “About what happened with Sophia earlier… I’m sorry I lost my temper with you. This dress is my apology. I promise I’ll give you the grandest wedding ever.” Ethan declared this publicly, professing his feelings in front of everyone. The housekeepers beside us practically swooned with envy. My expression remained flat. “Put it in the closet.” Seeing my lack of enthusiasm, his face darkened slightly: “You don’t have to keep picking fights with Sophia. You were partly wrong in this too.” “Mom obviously isn’t dead. You lied to us, saying that urn was hers. If Mom heard you, she’d definitely scold you too.” I almost laughed out loud in bitterness. He still didn’t believe my mom was dead? If he had even an ounce of trust in my words, a simple call to the hospital would confirm it. But he treated Sophia’s words like gospel. I was truly talking to a brick wall. I scoffed coldly, “I did nothing wrong.” Ethan’s face contorted, finding me utterly unreasonable: “So you think Sophia and I are deliberately trying to make trouble for you?” “What else?” I replied flatly. “You’re unbelievable!” Ethan slammed the door with a deafening crack and stormed out, furious. I knew where he was going. Back to Sophia. Sure enough, Sophia immediately started bombarding me with photos and videos, flaunting their time together. I simply blocked her number and went to sleep. The next day, having few relatives or friends left, I arranged a simple funeral service for Mom. I notified Ethan, wanting some closure, a final conversation before cutting ties completely. His reply was simple: “Okay.” But the service was almost over, and he never showed up. Instead, Sophia arrived, followed by a group of rough-looking thugs. Sophia saw the surprise in my eyes and smirked. “What, surprised to see me?” Seeing their aggressive stance, I sensed trouble. “Why did you bring these people here?” “To trash the place, of course! Go on, smash it all!” At her command, the thugs stormed into Mom’s memorial setup, smashing everything in sight. Countless flowers were scattered, wreaths trampled, even Mom’s portrait was shattered. Chaos reigned. “Stop! Don’t touch anything! One more move and I’m calling the cops!” I shielded the urn with my body, shoving them away furiously, screaming until my voice was raw. Their fists and makeshift clubs rained down on me. My head bleeding, pain overwhelming me, I collapsed. Sophia grabbed my hair, yanking my head back, forcing me to look at her. “That old bitch mother of yours. If she didn’t die, was she just going to keep leeching off Ethan?” “Ethan says you’re just a boring housewife. He’s tired of you, can’t get rid of you, so I had to help him out.” A housewife? Is that how Ethan described me to her? Before we were engaged, I was a well-known fashion designer. It was only after his business took off that he begged me to quit my demanding job, saying he didn’t want me running back and forth, exhausted, that he would take care of me. But now, my mother and I were just burdens in his eyes. Fine. I really was leaving. But I wasn’t going to let her get away with this. Seeing me dazed, Sophia sneered dismissively, then turned to the thugs: “Throw her in the coffin, nail it shut with her mom—” Before she could finish, I grabbed a sharp piece of broken wood from the floor and stabbed it hard into her shoulder. Then, I lunged, wrapping my hands fiercely around her neck. A desperate counterattack! Sophia let out a bloodcurdling scream, cut short as my grip tightened. The thugs froze, startled, about to move. I snarled viciously, “Get lost! All of you! Or I snap her neck right now, and you won’t get paid a dime!” Sophia shook her head frantically, pleading with them for help, but the thugs scattered and ran. Relief washed over me. I released my grip, shoving Sophia to the ground. Before I could react, a stinging slap landed hard across my face. My head snapped sideways, ears ringing, as I heard Ethan’s furious roar: “Chloe, how dare you provoke Sophia again? Did you think my warnings were just hot air?” My eyes, blazing red, fixed on Ethan. “She was going to bury me alive!” Ethan seemed momentarily flustered by my shout, turning to look at Sophia. Sophia clung to him like a lifeline, sobbing pitifully: “Ethan, I was just joking! But sister took it seriously, she tried to kill me!” He pulled Sophia protectively into his arms, then turned on me, his voice harsh, as if I’d committed some heinous crime. “She’s sick, Chloe! She was just joking with you! How could you take it seriously and attack her?” This same transparent act had played out countless times. And yet, Ethan still blindly believed Sophia every single time. Tired of his lectures, I stated numbly, “Ethan. This is the last time.” Seeing the utter coldness in my expression, Ethan felt a jolt of fear, a sense that he was losing something vital. Noticing the injuries covering my head, he loosened his hold on Sophia. “Forget it. Let me take you to the hospital first.” He reached for me, but Sophia suddenly clutched her back, crying out: “It hurts, it hurts so bad! Ethan, my shoulder! Sister stabbed me right through! I’m going to die from the pain!” Seeing the blood soaking through Sophia’s clothes, Ethan panicked. Any concern for me instantly evaporated. He scooped Sophia up and ran towards the door, tossing back one sentence: “I’m taking her to the hospital first. Call yourself an ambulance. Text me when you get there, I’ll come meet you.” I watched his figure disappear through the main entrance. Then I called 911 myself and was eventually loaded onto the ambulance. Just as the ambulance pulled up to the hospital entrance. My phone buzzed with an anonymous text: “I won’t let him come get you.” Immediately after, Ethan’s call came through: “Sophia’s injury is too serious, she needs someone with her. I can’t pick you up right now. Later, I’ll definitely find time to check on you later, I promise!” I could hear Sophia’s coquettish voice in the background before Ethan abruptly hung up. He never asked about me again. So I was alone. Surgery, paying bills, recovering, staring blankly. During that time, Ethan never visited me once. But I’d occasionally catch glimpses of the two of them, acting lovey-dovey, in various corners of the hospital. What a perfect couple. I contacted a real estate agent and put the house up for sale. This was the house Ethan bought with the first big profit he made after starting his business with Mom’s money. That was when Ethan loved me the most. The deed was solely in my name. I thought we would build a happy home there. I never imagined I’d be the one selling it off in the end. I signed the contracts quickly, finalizing the transfer. The agent assured me they would handle the moving arrangements completely. Only then did I leave. Back home, the housekeeper presented me with the 99th wedding dress Ethan had sent. I hung it on the last empty hanger in the closet. After paying the staff their final wages and letting them go, I circled the date on the calendar, marking the final number: 99. In the blank space on the calendar page, I wrote my farewell letter to Ethan. “Family gone, debt repaid. Ethan, we’re done.” I placed Mom’s death certificate and the calendar page together on the coffee table. Then, I picked up my suitcase, went to the airport, chose a random flight, checked in, and boarded. As the plane soared into the sky, an exhausted Ethan finally returned home. The villa was eerily silent. Confused, he tried calling me. His eyes fell on the note on the coffee table. Just as he reached for it, the cold, robotic voice came through his phone: “Sorry, the number you have dialed is not reachable…” And the next second, he saw my mother’s death certificate. As if realizing something, his hand trembled as he snatched up the calendar page. When he saw the large, stark words written there… Ethan’s pupils constricted instantly.

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Seven years with Liam Miller, and he finally agreed to get married. But there was one condition: the wedding planner had to be his old college friend, Sophia Bell. I agreed. And just like that, my wedding became all about Sophia. The venue was decorated according to her taste. Liam held her hand during the rehearsal. Even the house I’d spent ages preparing, our dream home, Liam just gave it to her. I bought his excuse that they were “just friends,” biting my tongue again and again. But on the wedding day itself… Liam, wearing the designer suit I’d picked out, holding the custom ring I’d had made, got down on one knee in front of Sophia. “Sophia, this wedding… I planned it all for you.” “I know now, it’s always been you I loved.” “So, before I marry Claire, I have to marry you first!” “Just wait for me. Wait until I’ve secured my position with the Ashfords. I swear I’ll make it right, have you standing by my side properly.” I watched them, clinging together tearfully, my eyes cold. Instantly, I snapped a picture and sent it to my assistant. “Get this photo out everywhere. By tomorrow, I want him out of the Ashford family, penniless.” 1 After Liam and I got the marriage license, he was suddenly desperate to have the wedding ceremony. A complete turnaround from his usual dismissive, reluctant attitude. I thought he was finally changing for me. I quickly agreed. I was so happy, I barely registered him saying he wanted Sophia to plan the wedding. Liam was in a rush. The same day we got the license, he dragged me to the wedding planning agency. The second we walked in, Liam, who’d just been complaining about me getting lipstick on his shirt, completely changed his demeanor. His expression softened, his voice became gentle. “Sophia.” My heart dropped. I looked up quickly. And there she was, Sophia, pouting playfully. She practically launched herself into Liam’s arms, deliberately shouldering me aside. “Liam, you bad boy!” “How long has it been? Aren’t I still your favorite girl from college?!” Caught off guard, I stumbled back, hitting the corner of a table before steadying myself. Instinctively, like always, I reached out my hand. Before, whenever I stumbled or got bumped, Liam’s hand would instantly be there to catch me. It was almost a reflex. But this time, I waited. Nothing. Confused, I looked up. Liam hadn’t even glanced my way. His arms were wrapped around a bouncing Sophia, his gaze fixed on her, eyes overflowing with an affection he didn’t even try to hide. Seeing that look on his face, oblivious, my heart sank. I wanted to pull Liam away, but thinking about him… Pushing down the complicated feelings, I cut in first. “Hi, we’d like to book a wedding.” My voice was quiet, but Sophia reacted as if startled, her eyes instantly turning red-rimmed. “Wh-what?” “You… you two are getting married?” Her gaze darted between Liam and me. Finally, it locked onto Liam. Liam just cleared his throat, unable to meet her eyes. I stared at him, lips pressed tightly together, my nails digging into my palms without realizing it. I thought planning a wedding would take time, but surprisingly, they had a setup ready to go. Sophia quickly composed herself, professionally leading us to a mock setup. She explained everything detail by detail. Though her eyes were on Liam the entire time. I gave the setup a quick scan. Flooded with deep red roses, draped in gaudy, extravagant gold. It screamed expensive, but had zero aesthetic appeal to me. “No roses, I don’t like them.” “And I don’t like this style either. It’s too flashy.” “Do you have any other options?” Before Sophia could say anything, Liam jumped in. “No, we can’t change it!” “If you don’t know anything about design, don’t make random demands. Sophia worked hard on this. I trust her taste.” “Claire, stop acting like a spoiled princess. Just go with it.” I didn’t understand how expressing my opinion made me a spoiled princess. I opened my mouth to argue, but he pushed me towards the dressing room. “Don’t embarrass yourself. Hurry up and try on the dress.” “We’ll talk when you get back.” Before I could finish a sentence, Liam shoved me into the adjacent dressing room. He even closed the door behind him before leaving. Liam left quickly, his back view radiating an excitement he couldn’t quite hide. Staring at the firmly shut door, I put down the dress he’d forced into my hands and tried the knob. It was locked from the outside. My eyes instantly dimmed. The ache in my lower back where I’d hit the table flared up. I didn’t make a sound. I didn’t call Liam. I just dialed the number posted on the wall inside the room. Ten minutes later, the door opened. Without pausing, I walked straight back to the wedding venue area. As I stepped through the entrance, my body froze. My gaze locked onto the center of the display stage. Up there stood Liam and Sophia. Under the bright white lights, they slowly moved closer. Shy smiles on their faces, a charged look in their eyes. Holding hands, confessing feelings, leaning in for a kiss… Just as their lips were about to touch, I grabbed a glass from a nearby table and smashed it down. CRASH! The sound jolted Liam back to reality. A flicker of regret crossed his eyes as he reluctantly pushed Sophia away. No guilt, just irritation. “Claire, what took you so long?” “Because you were taking forever, I had Sophia help me run through the rehearsal.” “We’ve pretty much got it down. Let’s go home.” I looked at Liam’s calm face, then at his hand still unconsciously tangled with Sophia’s. His eyes never once settled on me. I searched his face for any sign of deception, any hint he was faking it. But he was good. Too good. As if locking the door was really an accident. As if nearly kissing Sophia was truly just a rehearsal. As if there was no history, no lingering feelings for his old college crush. 2 Sophia was Liam’s old college crush, the “one that got away.” I only knew she existed because he’d occasionally let her name slip out. Sophia likes peaches. Sophia loves rose-scented things. Sophia is allergic to eggs. He remembered every detail of her life, her habits, her preferences. When we first started dating, Liam swore they were just friends. He said he was just grateful for how she’d looked out for him back then. I believed him. And I was confident that, eventually, I would mean more to him than she did. But seven years passed, and Liam remained lukewarm towards me. The moment Sophia appeared, it was like he had blinders on. He couldn’t see me at all. His eyes and heart were only for Sophia. I didn’t even have the right to choose the flowers I liked for my own wedding. He even locked me in a room so he could rehearse the ceremony with her. In that moment, doubt crept in. This relationship I’d held onto for seven years… was it really worth it? If seven years couldn’t change his feelings, would marriage make any difference? On the way back, a gloomy rain started to fall. As we stepped outside, Liam, normally obsessed with cleanliness, instinctively took off his jacket and draped it over Sophia. “Sophia’s always been delicate. Getting wet could make her sick for ages.” “I’ll get her to the car first. You wait here.” Before I could react, he snatched the umbrella from my hand, put his arm around Sophia, and hurried her towards the car. Leaving me standing alone, getting soaked by the downpour. I stared in shock at his retreating back. My already unsteady heart felt like it was being drenched in ice water. “Liam…” He didn’t look back. He carefully settled Sophia in the car, meticulously arranging her clothes. The man so fussy about cleanliness didn’t seem to mind Sophia getting his car wet now. A bitter taste spread through my mouth. I stood frozen. Letting the heavy rain soak me until I was chilled to the bone. After a long while, Liam came back. He shoved the umbrella into my hand, gesturing for me to walk. “You’re already wet anyway. Why didn’t you just walk over instead of making me come back?” “Claire, your clothes are soaked. Get in the back seat later, and put something down first.” The cold made my voice tremble, but I forced the words out through gritted teeth. “Liam, abandoning your fiancée to take care of another woman… do you think that’s appropriate?” “You chose this wedding company for Sophia, didn’t you?” Liam’s face went blank for a second, then annoyance took over. “Claire, stop inventing things and jumping to conclusions about me.” “I was just being a gentleman, taking care of the guest first.” “Besides, we’re basically married now. What on earth are you so worried about?!” Liam was furious. His face dark, he once again took the umbrella, leaving me in the rain. “Claire, as punishment for doubting me, you can find your own way back.” “I’ve never done anything to wrong you, yet you refuse to trust me.” “Claire, this time, I’m truly disappointed.” My eyes stung as I watched Liam walk away again. Suddenly, everything felt so absurd, so laughable. Was it really me who didn’t trust him, or had his heart already strayed? 3 Liam showed zero concern for me. Ten o’clock at night, pitch black with pouring rain, and he left me to get home alone. From the moment he turned his back, I called his name countless times. After he left, I dialed his number over and over. Every single call went unanswered. The early winter air made me shiver uncontrollably. Feeling my body temperature rise, I finally called my assistant. Half an hour later, I was picked up. By the time I got home, my skin was flushed hot with fever. Meanwhile, Liam, who had left before me, still wasn’t home. I randomly swallowed a couple of pills and tried calling Liam again. This time, he answered. “Liam, I have a fever. Can you please come home and stay with me?” Maybe it was the sickness, but I suddenly felt incredibly vulnerable. I didn’t care that he’d ditched me for Sophia, didn’t care that he was unreachable. I just wanted him here with me, now. I thought he wouldn’t refuse. But after a long pause, all I got was a sigh. “Claire, I’m not a doctor. Me coming back won’t help.” “I’ll call the family doctor for you. Get some rest.” “I’m really busy lately, working late. I won’t be back tonight.” And then, he just hung up. Listening to the cold dial tone, the emotional dam I’d been holding back finally broke. Hot tears streamed down my face, hitting the duvet and spreading into dark patches. Liam… he really didn’t care about me… That night, I drifted in and out of a restless sleep. Waking up countless times, my hand habitually reached for the empty space beside me, only to find cold sheets. I checked my phone repeatedly. Not a single message. Not one missed call. The family doctor he promised to call? Forgotten the moment he hung up. The next morning, just as I was finally falling into a heavy sleep, my phone rang. It was my mom. Her call vaguely reminded me that today was the day I was supposed to show them the new house via video call. Their flight had issues, so they couldn’t come in person yet. I couldn’t let them see I was sick. Pretending everything was fine, I took them on a virtual tour of the nearby house we were supposed to live in. Through the screen, I kept making excuses for Liam. “Liam’s great, he’s just incredibly busy.” “Once things calm down, we’ll have the wedding.” “Don’t worry, Mom, he wouldn’t mistreat me…” Just as the words left my mouth, a familiar, coy voice interrupted. “Liam, you little devil, your cooking is still the best.” “I told you to be gentle! Now I need you to feed me.” “You’re terrible!” Following the sound, I stared blankly. The voice was coming from inside our house. Suddenly, my already pounding head felt heavier. A thousand suspicions exploded in my mind. Biting my lip, I walked towards the house, step by step. The front door was wide open, revealing everything inside without obstruction. The house I had meticulously planned, poured my heart into preparing… was now filled with the signs of someone else’s life. Matching clothes drying on the balcony, cozy, lived-in decor, two pairs of slippers by the door. Everything screamed that someone was living here. And Liam, who I’d been telling my parents was so busy, was right there, wearing an apron, carefully feeding soup to Sophia, who was lounging in bed. They were close together, faces flushed. It was only in that moment I realized Liam could cook. That he could be caring. All those times I’d had stomach pains, hoping he’d make me a simple bowl of porridge… What was his response then? He said he didn’t know how. Told me to call the housekeeper. In an instant, I felt my blood run cold. My legs buckled, and I almost collapsed. That slight noise caught the attention of the intimately close pair inside. When Liam’s eyes met mine, the tenderness in them hadn’t faded yet before freezing on his face. “Claire? What are you doing here?” I fumbled to hang up the video call before looking up numbly to meet his gaze. It took a long moment to find my voice. “Weren’t you working late?” “Weren’t you too busy? Why are you here?” “Why is Sophia living in my house?” The fever made my voice hoarse, but it didn’t dull the sharp edge. Liam frowned, a flicker of unease in his eyes. “Sophia got sick. She got sick because of our wedding planning stress, so I had to take care of her.” “As for the house, I already signed it over to her.” “Sophia’s trying to make it on her own here, working so hard planning our wedding. The Ashfords are loaded, what’s giving her one house?” “Claire, you’re not usually this petty. We can just find another house.”

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The day of Annie’s accident, Ethan was with his old flame getting her nails done. I called him, begging him to come to the hospital, to see our daughter one last time. But Ethan just accused me of being cruel, of cursing our own daughter. I pleaded again and again, but he wouldn’t budge. Meanwhile, his old flame was posting on her Instagram story, showing off her new manicure. “This goofball sat here like a statue waiting for me for three hours. He said he likes pink nails on me, what do you guys think? Cute?” I stared at my phone for a long time, suddenly exhausted. “Real cute. Tell him to come home and sign the divorce papers.” 1. My daughter was rushed into the operating room, covered in blood. I stood outside, my legs trembling. Because I’d held her, I was drenched in her blood, my mind replaying the image of her lying in a pool of it. My knees gave out, and I collapsed onto the floor. Today was Annie’s birthday. I’d only stepped out for a moment to buy a cake, and she was hit by a car. The driver yelled “serves her right” and sped off – a hit-and-run. There were no cameras on that stretch of road. The police arrived quickly. I somehow managed to call 911. On the way here, I tried calling my husband, Ethan, but his phone went straight to voicemail. A doctor came out, his expression grim. He handed me the critical condition forms. “The surgery is extremely high-risk. You need to prepare yourself.” Hearing those words felt like a giant, invisible hand squeezing my heart, making it hard to breathe. “Doctor, please, you have to save my daughter! Please! She’s only five! She’s just five years old!” He hesitated, then urged me to sign the consent forms quickly. I forced myself to stay calm, to hold back the tears, and signed my name with a shaking hand. I tried calling Ethan again. Even though we were fighting, this was about Annie. He couldn’t be that cold. After several tries, he finally picked up. Like finding a lifeline, I burst into tears. “Ethan… get to the hospital! Now! Annie… Annie was in an accident!” There was silence on the other end for a moment, then his voice, cold. “Sarah, that’s enough. How could you be so twisted? What kind of stunt are you pulling now? Cursing Annie like that.” He didn’t believe me? I choked back tears, trying to sound calm. “Ethan, I’m not kidding. Annie was hit by a car. She’s at City General right now. Please, I’m begging you, just come!” “The doctor… the doctor already said it’s critical…” I stammered out. He was clearly annoyed. “Last time it was a fever, now it’s a car accident. Stop the drama, Sarah. I have a company party tonight. I’ll bring her a cake later. Gotta go!” Before I could say another word, the line went dead. I stared at my phone in despair. He just hung up? Even if we were fighting, this was our child! My hand clutching the phone felt ice-cold. Tears dripped onto the screen. The light above the operating room door was still on. I stared at it, my mind drifting back. Ethan was a model. He had this arrogant air about him, fiercely driven in everything he did. That’s what drew me in. He was struggling at first, barely getting any gigs. I was his biggest fan. After relentlessly pursuing him, he finally gave me a chance. He said, “I’m not very good at loving someone.” Tears streamed down my face, but I smiled and nodded. It’s okay, I told him, I’ll love you enough for both of us. I hustled for him, sending out his resume everywhere, networking, getting him gigs, always asking them to keep my involvement a secret. He was ambitious; he seized every opportunity. After we got together, he took care of everything for me, treated me well. He knew I wanted to pursue photography, so he used his savings to send me to school. As life got better and his career took off, he got busier, but he was still good to me. But I always sensed a distance in his kindness. It wasn’t that he couldn’t love; it was like someone else already lived permanently in his heart. The day Annie had a dangerously high fever, I panicked. I called him countless times. He didn’t come home until the middle of the night, after her fever had already broken. He accused me of lying to get his attention. Later, I found out that Chloe, his old flame, had returned to the country that day. I secretly followed him to the airport when he went to pick her up. Chloe was crying hysterically. Without a second thought, Ethan pulled her into his arms. I clearly heard him promise to protect her from now on. Later, they went to an amusement park. Just as they were about to get on the Ferris wheel, I called him, demanding he come home. Back when we were dating, I’d playfully asked him to ride a Ferris wheel with me. I’d heard that if a couple kissed at the top, they’d stay together forever. He’d called me childish, saying he hated places like that. Trembling, I asked him why he was going now. The irritation in his eyes was the last straw. We argued. He shut down, coldly throwing these words at me before starting the silent treatment: “Sarah, I thought you were different from other women. Turns out you’re just as unreasonable.” “Chloe saved my life. I owe her.” The sound of another family crying nearby snapped me back to the present. I frantically stared at the operating room door. Annie was still in surgery. My heart ached so much I couldn’t breathe. It’s okay, it’s okay, as long as he still loves our daughter. But now… My hand trembled uncontrollably. My heart clenched. My Annie. I sank to my knees, praying desperately for her safety. But my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I pulled out my phone, intending to record a video, to prove I wasn’t joking. But then I saw a post from one of his colleagues. They were at a company event, but he wasn’t in the photos. The next second, his old flame, Chloe, posted on her Instagram. A picture of her freshly manicured nails. “This goofball sat here like a statue waiting for me for three hours. He said he likes pink nails on me, what do you guys think? Cute? 😉” He had liked the post. I zoomed in on the photo, my hand shaking slightly. In the reflection of the nail salon window, I saw Ethan’s hand. He was still wearing the watch I gave him last year. A chill spread through my body. My hand fell limply to my side. Our daughter was fighting for her life in surgery, and he was sitting with this woman while she got her nails done? Just then, a text from him finally arrived. “Sarah, have you had enough of your games?” “Don’t think sending me random hospital pictures you found online will make me believe you.” “Stop teaching Annie to lie with you. I’m really sick of this.” “I told you I’m at a company party. Why are you always so suspicious? Where do you think the money you spend comes from? Think about that.” Before, I would have blown up his phone, demanding why he lied to me. But now, reading his self-righteous excuses, I just felt tired. 2. My gaze drifted, landing on his hand in the photo’s reflection. Right after Annie was born, I was sitting on the couch holding her when I saw a picture of pink nails I really liked. I wanted him to go with me to get them done. He glanced at it dismissively, his voice flat. “Sarah, you’re a mother now. Pink is so… delicate. Is that really appropriate? Besides, I don’t like flashy nails on you.” His words deflated me. I looked down at the baby in my arms and quietly let it go. I thought he just genuinely disliked nail polish. Now it seemed he just disliked it on me. The doctor came out of the OR. I stumbled to my feet, my voice trembling. “Doctor, how is my daughter?” I fought back tears. The doctor shook his head sadly. “I’m so sorry. We did everything we could. Your daughter has something she wants to say. You should go in.” My lips trembled. I barely managed to stay upright. Annie lay on the hospital bed, her face pale. I held her hand, struggling to keep myself together. Annie’s lips moved. I read her lips. She wanted to see Daddy. I wiped away a tear, forcing a smile. I told her I’d bring Daddy right over. I frantically tried calling Ethan, only to discover he’d blocked my number. All the blood rushed to my head. Annie was fading fast. She wasn’t crying or fussing, just looking at me. The pain in my chest was suffocating. I thought of the only other way to reach Ethan. I dialed Chloe’s number. Her loud, cheerful laugh came through the phone. “Sarah? What’s up?” I fought to control my voice, telling her Annie was dying, that Ethan needed to come to the hospital to see her one last time. Please. He had to come. But I never expected Ethan to grab the phone, his voice laced with impatience. “Sarah, you’ve really lost it! You call yourself a mother? How can you curse your own child like that!” “You sound like a lunatic right now!” I sobbed quietly. Through the phone, I heard Chloe’s coy voice. “Ethan, she sounds really upset. Maybe you should go? I can manage dinner myself.” “Don’t worry about it,” Ethan replied. “It’s probably nothing serious. She’s just putting on a show for me, she pulled this stunt last time too, and Annie was fine. I’m staying with you tonight.” Panic seized me. What if he didn’t come? I raised my voice. “Ethan, if you don’t come right now, we’re getting a divorce.” It was the only leverage I had left. Silence on the other end. Finally, he relented, though his voice was cold. “Wait for me.” I hung up immediately and sent him the hospital address. Annie was in so much pain, but she didn’t cry. She opened her mouth slightly. “Mommy… don’t cry… An… nie… loves Mommy.” Tears streamed down my face, my chest feeling crushed by a heavy weight. Looking at her little face, so much like Ethan’s, brought a fresh wave of bitterness. After we got together, I realized I was just Chloe’s replacement. Chloe had gotten married. He’d only agreed to be with me out of spite. Now Chloe was divorced and back, and that light was back in his eyes. Clutching my daughter’s blood-stained hand, I felt utterly broken. 3. No matter what, I would endure it for Annie. But I never imagined… Annie didn’t make it long enough to see Ethan. I paced the hospital corridor, checking the time over and over. When the devastating news finally reached me, my body went rigid, as if the world had fallen away. I couldn’t hold back anymore. I collapsed, sobbing uncontrollably. How… how could this happen… Whether he was coming from his office or Chloe’s place, it was only a ten-minute drive. He couldn’t even spare ten minutes? My heart clenched painfully, making it impossible to breathe. Just then, Chloe’s Instagram updated again. Her caption: “The silly goose made me a four-course meal! Told him I couldn’t possibly eat it all, but he insisted I’m too thin. Cleaned my plate! ” Ethan’s comment below: “Happy if you eat more.” My thumb slipped and liked the post. She immediately sent me a private message. “Sarah, Ethan was worried I wouldn’t eat, so he insisted on staying with me Sorry! He’ll make it up to Annie tomorrow, okay?” I could practically picture her smug expression. In that instant, my heart felt like it had plunged into ice water. I raised my hand, wiped my tears, and deleted her contact information. My fingernails dug into my palms, the pain spreading through my core. Overnight, I had lost everything. I accompanied Annie’s body to the funeral home. It was crowded, too many people needing arrangements. Annie had to lie alone in a refrigerated drawer, waiting. I didn’t cry. I didn’t make a scene. I just sat quietly outside the funeral home all night. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Annie’s face contorted in pain. I felt nothing, just numb. Only one thought remained. Divorce. I want a divorce. I handled everything and went home as the sky began to lighten at the crack of dawn. He was back. I hadn’t turned on the lights. He jumped when he saw me. He froze for a second, his expression slightly awkward. “It got really late last night. I didn’t want to wake you and Annie, so I didn’t come home.” “I have to leave for a business trip soon, can you pack a couple of outfits for me?” Always ordering me around, just like usual. When I didn’t move, he walked towards me. My face must have looked awful. He clearly didn’t understand, stepping closer, trying to placate me. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting. Last night, she was really upset—” I lifted my hand and slapped him across the face with all my strength. His expression turned ugly. He raised his voice. “Sarah! Are you crazy? You hit me?” “And you sent Annie back to your parents’, didn’t you? Can you stop being so unreasonable? Stop being jealous all the time! Chloe just got back, she has no family here but me.” I didn’t say anything. He lost his patience, dragging me onto the sofa, fumbling with his belt, kissing me roughly. I bit him. “Get off me!” The taste of blood filled my mouth. Just then, I saw the hickey on his neck. The blatant mark sent a sharp pain through my heart, stealing my breath. But his face was cold. “Sarah, what’s the act? You used Annie to lure me back, isn’t this what you wanted all along? Fine. I’ll give it to you.” He roughly tore at my dress, as if sex was some kind of compensation. Seeing I’d stopped resisting, his movements became gentler. “Sarah, stop being unreasonable, okay? Or I’ll really lose my patience.” “Sarah, can’t you just yield a little? Why do you have to be so stubborn?” My body flinched slightly. I didn’t fight back anymore. My voice was flat. “Annie’s gone.” He didn’t seem to hear me, still tearing at my clothes. Tears streamed silently down my face. Just then, Chloe pushed the door open and walked in. She wore a victor’s smile, covering her mouth coyly. “Ethan, what’s taking you so long? It’s cold downstairs, so I came on up.” She saw us, her expression faltering for a split second, then she strutted over in her heels. “Oh… Sarah’s here too? Weren’t you supposed to be at the hospital? See, Ethan? You know her so well. She really was lying to you.” Ethan seemed to tacitly agree with her. Her casual words cut me like knives. My head snapped towards her. I saw a matching, glaring hickey on her neck too. Out all night, hickeys on both of them. No explanation needed. I snapped, biting down hard on his arm. He cried out in pain, releasing me. I forced back tears. “Ethan, why would you humiliate me like this?” He looked bewildered but moved to stand beside Chloe, rubbing her hand, his tone reproachful towards her. “Chloe, I told you to wear more, didn’t I? Your hands are freezing, just like a little girl’s.” She pouted playfully. “Ethan, as long as you’re here, I’ll never be cold.” “You promised you’d always protect me. When our baby is born, you’ll protect them too, right?” Ethan’s expression softened incredibly. I heard him reply, “Okay.” He said okay? He… how could he? Baby? What baby? I looked at Chloe, who was shyly cradling her stomach. In that instant, my world collapsed. He tucked her hair behind her ear, not even looking at me. I straightened my clothes and stood up, my expression numb, my hands hanging limply at my sides. Tears fell, fat and heavy. “Ethan, you’re sick. You’re seriously sick. You didn’t deserve such a wonderful daughter.” Mentioning Annie finally made him look at me. He crossed his arms, leaning back slightly, his eyes cold, his tone impatient. “Go get Annie from your parents’ house.” “Sarah, if you keep acting this paranoid, maybe Chloe should take care of her for a while. Chloe likes kids more than you do.” He called me paranoid. Before, he would have said, It’s okay, Sarah, I’ll reassure you, I only love you. Memories sliced through me like razors, leaving me bleeding pain. Tears streamed down my face. “Ethan, you don’t get another chance. You’ll never get the chance. Annie’s dead.” Chloe tugged at his sleeve, still fanning the flames. “Ethan, listen to her! How can she curse her own child like that? I would never.” His expression remained cold, still convinced I was lying. Until I pulled the death certificate from my bag. Ethan’s face began to change. He took the report, his body staggering back a step.

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In my last life, my sister Ashley, jealous of my brains and good grades, deliberately introduced me to a bad boy, Jake. She pushed me into dating him young, skipping class, sneaking out to meet him. Anytime I hesitated, she’d hype me up, saying high school was the time for a passionate, unforgettable romance. She claimed Jake was secretly loaded, a rich kid in disguise, and sticking with him meant living the high life. Meanwhile, she was secretly burning the midnight oil, studying, forming study groups with the top students. Then, I got pregnant unexpectedly. Terrified, I wanted to tell Mom and Dad, get an abortion. But Ashley found me first. She said the baby was innocent, convinced me to hide the pregnancy and have the baby in secret. She promised that once the baby was born, I could marry into Jake’s supposedly wealthy family. With a baby involved, Mom and Dad wouldn’t be able to stop it anyway. So, I started wearing baggy school clothes to hide my growing belly. During final exams, Ashley aced everything and got into an Ivy League school. Me? I ended up giving birth in a public restroom stall. Ashley went off to college, bright future ahead, landing a great career and relationship after graduation. My reputation was ruined. Jake wasn’t rich at all; he was just some poor kid from the sticks. My parents were devastated and utterly disappointed in me. They just let Jake drag me and the baby back to his remote, impoverished hometown where we suffered until we died. After my death, at my funeral, Ashley told everyone I was rebellious, wouldn’t listen to reason. She claimed she’d tried so hard to warn me off dating Jake, but I brought it all on myself. Then, I opened my eyes. I was back. Reborn. This time, I was flipping the script. 1 The agonizing memory of being beaten, my scalp bleeding, in my past life was still fresh. I blinked, finding myself standing on the school’s track field. Ashley stood nearby, looking crisp and clean in her neat school uniform, her hair pulled back in a high ponytail. The picture of youthful innocence. Me? My hair was bleached a brassy yellow – the principal had just ordered me to dye it back to a normal color. My uniform, originally tailored, was deliberately ripped and altered. Underneath my uniform pants, I was wearing fishnet stockings. A total mess. Ashley looked at me, holding out a pink envelope. She gave me a conspiratorial wink. “Chloe, Jake asked me to give this to you. It’s a love letter. He wants you to meet him at the pool hall this afternoon. Says he wants to introduce you to his crew.” Looking at her face, I silently clenched my fists, nearly grinding my back teeth to dust. Last time, she’d handed me the letter just like this, convincing me to skip class and go find Jake at the pool hall. I remembered him there, decked out in too-tight jeans, flashy fake designer shoes, leaning against his obnoxiously loud motorcycle. His posse of wannabe tough guys stood behind him, all respectfully calling me “Jake’s girl.” It had fed my stupid teenage vanity, making me fall even harder for him, officially becoming his girlfriend. After that, I started dating him seriously, my focus completely shifting away from school. Ashley covered for me late at night, helping me sneak out to meet Jake, sometimes not getting home until morning. Thanks to her covering my tracks, Mom and Dad never suspected I wasn’t sleeping in my own bed. It all came crashing down when I stared at a positive pregnancy test, two pink lines mocking me. Panicked, I told Ashley my period was two months late. I was pregnant. I cried hysterically, clutching the test, wanting to confess everything to our parents. But Ashley grabbed my arm, her voice full of false wisdom. “Chloe, Jake’s family is rich. Being pregnant now just means you can drop out and marry into wealth. If you get rid of the baby, he’ll definitely break up with you. Then your reputation is ruined, and if you bomb your finals, you’ll end up working some dead-end job.” “Oh, my naive sister,” she’d said, “do you really want to be flipping burgers for the rest of your life? Besides, this is a life. Can you really live with yourself if you kill your own child?” So, I listened to her. I hid the pregnancy. And that led to the tragedy. This time, I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. Seeing me hesitate to take the letter, Ashley shoved it into my hand. “Chloe, I put a pair of heels in your backpack. You should wear them later. You’re so pretty, just dress up a little. Jake will be so proud to show you off.” She even gave me his number again, telling me not to be late. I mumbled, “But… I have class this afternoon. I’ve already skipped so many times this month.” “Chloe, don’t waste your time on studying! Don’t you want that epic romance?” She patted my shoulder, acting like she only had my best interests at heart. Just as the bell rang for class, Ashley literally pushed me towards the school exit. “Go on, hurry! I’ll cover for you.” She waved, then quickly turned and ran back towards the classrooms. Clutching the letter, I turned and followed her back inside. When Ashley saw me walk into the classroom instead of heading out to meet Jake, her eyes widened in disbelief. I ignored her and focused on the lesson. I’d let her convince me to skip so much class last time. We were already halfway through the material, and college entrance exams were only three months away. I had to catch up. Looking at the problems in the textbook, a thought sparked. Having lived twice, and remembering all those nights I spent secretly studying textbooks after being dragged away in my past life… I knew this stuff inside and out. Getting into an Ivy League school? This time, it was practically guaranteed. Seeing me actually studying, Ashley leaned over. “Chloe, what are you looking at?” “Studying. I’m going to get into the Ivy League,” I stated plainly. Ashley covered her mouth in mock surprise, raising her voice deliberately. “Wow, Chloe! You’re aiming for the Ivy League?” Heads turned. Smirks appeared on my classmates’ faces. Even the teacher looked over, a small, disbelieving smile on her face. “Chloe Miller, you skip class constantly, show no interest in learning… We’re halfway through the year. Do you really think cramming at the last minute will even get you into any college?” “Yeah, Chloe, seriously,” Ashley chimed in, a smug look on her face. “Stop dreaming. Mom and Dad would be thrilled if you just barely scraped into a state school.” The other students started murmuring, mocking my ambition, calling me delusional. I ignored their ridicule and buried my head in my book. My scores would speak for themselves eventually. No need to argue now. 2 After school, I started cleaning out my backpack and desk, tossing all the cheap nail polish, drugstore makeup, and other junk into the trash. Ashley noticed and came over, feigning curiosity. “Throwing all this out? Done with it? And… are you breaking up with Jake? He must be waiting for you. Standing him up is really rude, you know.” “I need to study hard. Try to be a good student, like you, Ashley,” I said calmly, not stopping my tidying. Ashley scoffed. “Chloe, you hit the jackpot. A rich guy likes you! Marry him, and you’re set for life. I don’t have that option; I have to study my butt off.” She even managed to look envious. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and looked her straight in the eye. “Well then, Ashley, since you feel that way, why don’t you take this ‘life-changing opportunity’ to marry into wealth? You’re not as smart as me anyway, so maybe you shouldn’t waste your time studying.” “He likes you, Chloe, not me! I already set it up for you! What am I supposed to do if you don’t go?” Ashley sputtered, looking genuinely panicked for a second. I walked around her towards the door. “Not my problem. If you like him so much, go yourself.” I went straight home and locked myself in my room to study. After quickly reviewing the standard high school curriculum, I realized it was way too easy. No challenge at all. So, I started tackling advanced Math Olympiad problems, pushing myself to the next level. Ashley came into my room later and saw me studying. She leaned against the doorframe, smirking. “Chloe, college exams are just a few months away. It’s way too late for you to catch up now. You’d be better off spending this time sucking up to Jake.” She then sat down at her own desk nearby and pulled out her textbooks. Watching her chew on her pen, struggling with a problem, I glanced over at her work. I couldn’t help but chuckle. “That one’s not so hard,” I commented, pointing to the last big problem on her page. “Honestly, most of this stuff is kid’s stuff for me. Only that last one requires a little thought.” Ashley’s eyes went wide. “What are you talking about? Stop pretending! This is Olympiad-level math! There’s no way you understand this! Stop scribbling nonsense and distracting me!” She yelled loud enough for our parents in the living room to hear. They came rushing in. “We come from a family of academics! Your mother and I have been professors our whole lives! How did we end up with a delinquent daughter like you?” Dad snapped as soon as he walked in, poking my forehead angrily. “Look at that yellow hair! You look ridiculous!” “Mom, Dad, Chloe was deliberately messing up my notebook, trying to stop me from studying!” Ashley whined, playing the victim. Dad picked up Ashley’s notebook and looked at the problem I’d pointed out. “This… this solution here… Chloe, did you write this?” “Yes, she did! Dad, punish her!” Ashley tilted her head up, looking at me with a flash of triumph in her eyes. Dad stared at the notebook for a moment longer, then passed it to Mom. They both grabbed scratch paper and pens and started scribbling, working through the problem. Ashley got impatient. “Mom! Dad! Aren’t you going to yell at her? She’s ruining my study time! How am I supposed to get into a good school?” “Quiet,” Dad waved her off dismissively. He looked at me, his expression shifting. “Chloe… did you really solve this?” “Yes,” I nodded. A huge grin spread across Dad’s face. He gently patted my head. “Genius! An absolute genius! You got it right! And this method… they haven’t even taught you this yet! How did you figure it out?” “Dad, I’ve actually finished all the high school material already,” I explained with a smile. “I found the regular stuff too easy, so I started exploring Olympiad math on my own for a challenge. I’ve decided. My goal is the Ivy League.” Ashley stood frozen, watching us, her jealousy practically radiating off her. Mom and Dad burst out laughing, their eyes now filled with warmth and pride as they looked at me. “Turning over a new leaf is priceless, Chloe! We believe in you! Absolutely!” Dad exclaimed. “Right, let’s go make your favorite dinner to celebrate!” Mom added, and they headed out of the room together. Ashley clenched her fists, her voice tight with disbelief. “How did you do that? It’s impossible!” “Because I’m a genius, dear sister,” I replied with a sweet smile. “Aren’t you?” 3 Ashley glared at me, pure jealousy burning in her eyes. Then, as if remembering something, she scoffed. “So what if you’re a genius? You’ve skipped so many classes. I bet you still can’t score high enough.” I just raised an eyebrow and went back to my studying. At the dinner table, Mom and Dad couldn’t stop praising me, calling me a natural talent, a true genius. Dad even gave me some challenging problems he’d collected over the years, and I solved them one by one. Watching Dad and me engrossed in academic discussion, Ashley got so upset she barely touched her food. With Dad’s guidance, I felt like my understanding deepened even further. That night, I even dreamed about solving equations. The next morning, I got up early and headed to school. But Jake was waiting for me at the entrance, straddling his loud, flashy motorcycle, his crew flanking him. Their bizarre outfits and the obnoxious techno blasting from the bike’s speakers made other students stare and whisper. Ashley nudged me, grinning maliciously. “Look, Chloe! You and Jake both have bleached hair! Matching couple hair, how cute! Go say hi to your boyfriend.” “Alright guys, say hi to my girl!” Jake yelled. His buddies shuffled forward and awkwardly mumbled, “Hey,” or “Yo, boss’s girl.” The surrounding students burst into laughter. I shot Jake a glare and tried to walk around him, but he grabbed my sleeve. “What do you think you’re doing? Causing trouble right at the school gate?” The sharp voice of the Dean of Students cut through the noise. She marched over, eyes narrowed at me. “Are you bringing your dating drama to school now? Ashley, get to class immediately. Don’t let your sister drag you down.” “Yes, ma’am,” Ashley replied sweetly, shooting me a triumphant smirk over her shoulder. “Ma’am, I’m not dating him,” I protested. “My sister invited him here. I barely know him.” “Don’t try to blame your sister, Chloe,” the Dean snapped, her face hardening. “I know your track record. It’s bad enough you’re throwing your own future away, but don’t corrupt Ashley. Any more of this, and I’m calling your parents.” Jake visibly flinched at the mention of parents and quickly signaled his crew. They scrambled onto their bikes and sped off. When I finally got to my classroom, I found Ashley standing in front of the class, holding the pink love letter Jake had sent, reading it aloud in a dramatic voice. The other students were howling with laughter. When they saw me enter, they started repeating lines from the letter, making kissy noises and teasing me relentlessly. “Seriously, Chloe? Your taste is trash! Dating that wannabe? Hahahaha! And he actually came to the school? So embarrassing for our class!” “Hey, don’t be mean to my sister,” Ashley interjected, pretending to defend me. “She and Jake really like each other.” Just as I was about to speak, the teacher walked in. Ashley immediately rushed up to the teacher, handing her the letter. “Teacher, my sister received this love letter.” The teacher took it and scanned the contents. The explicit, cheesy lines made her face flush with anger. She slammed the letter down on her desk. “Chloe Miller!” she roared. “You are incorrigible! I can’t handle you anymore! Get your phone out and call your parents right now! If you don’t want to be in school, you can just go home!” As the teacher fumed, Ashley leaned close and whispered, just loud enough for me to hear, “So what if you’re a genius? You can’t go to college if you get expelled.” With a sigh, I pulled out my phone and dialed my dad’s number. “Sweetie!” Dad’s excited voice came through the line. “I was just looking over those Olympiad problems you solved yesterday! Your approach is so innovative! Come home early after school today, okay? I have a few more I want to test you with! You’re truly a once-in-a-lifetime talent!” Before he could continue gushing, I cut in quietly. “Dad, the school wants to expel me. Can you come here now?”

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