Author: Momo Chan

He claimed it was just borrowing sperm, a simple transaction. Yet every holiday, I found myself with only half the gifts, forever the afterthought, the leftover. This isn’t just a secret; it’s a betrayal that her husband deserves to know. Because how can I ever find my true love if I remain shackled to the ghost of their deceit? Elena’s post hit like a slap in the face, but this slap came slow, deliberate, savoring every sting it left behind. The ultrasound was the centerpiece—a blurred, wriggling shadow growing inside her. And the caption—god, the caption—dripped with condescending sweetness. “Thank you to my dear Mike for lending me the gift I needed when I was most helpless. Soon, we’ll meet our little miracle.” As if Mike had merely donated a pen, a book—something insignificant. Not like he’d lent her sperm. My fingers hovered over the screen for what felt like an eternity. Every letter of my comment seemed to weigh a thousand pounds. “Congratulations to both of you,” I typed, my heart shattering with each word. And yet, as I hit send, it was as if I’d just let go of the last thread of dignity I had left. Mike’s voice came through like a thunderclap, full of fury and disdain. “I just lent my sperm to Elena, can you stop making a fuss?” The coldness in his voice had settled deep into my chest, numbing the ache that once throbbed there. It was clear—it’s time to let go. I placed my trembling hands over my slightly bulging belly. The life growing inside me was supposed to be our future,and I had planned to surprise Mike on our anniversary, imagining his face lighting up with joy. But now, that fantasy shattered before me. He didn’t deserve it—didn’t deserve us. “I’m sorry,” I whispered to the baby inside me, my voice breaking. This was supposed to be the beginning of a new chapter, a fresh start. Instead, it was a quiet farewell, to a life that could have been, and to a man who never truly cared. The dam inside me broke, and tears began to spill down my cheeks. Mike never wanted this, never wanted us. The intimacy between us had been hollow for years, each touch empty, each kiss colder than the last. That night, Mike came home early, something he rarely did. I heard him call my name from the hallway, his voice carrying a forced warmth that made my stomach turn. But I couldn’t answer him. I lay still in the bedroom, the silence between us thick, like an ocean of words unspoken. The sound of running water echoed from the bathroom, and with each drip, my heart sank deeper. The sound of the water stopped, and the door creaked open. In the darkness, I felt him—his presence as undeniable as the ache in my chest. He moved quietly, deliberately, like a shadow slipping into the room. I could hear his soft footsteps, the rustle of his clothes, but I refused to move, to acknowledge him. Then, out of nowhere, he was beside me, his arms wrapping around my waist. It was the first time in what felt like forever that he had reached for me, touched me as though I mattered. His warmth seeped through my thin pajamas, an unexpected and unsettling comfort. His body pressed against mine, but my heart was already miles away, frozen like stone. My eyes burned with unshed tears, but I kept my breath steady, unwilling to let him see the storm raging inside me. This sudden tenderness wasn’t love. It was a last gasp. “Wife, I lent my sperm just to help her fulfill a wish. I promise, as soon as she gives birth, I’ll end things with her completely.” The flattery in his tone, the pleading—it was hollow, like he was trying to plaster over a gaping wound with flimsy words. His voice shifted, the tone growing sharp, laced with impatience. “I’ve been so humble to please you, aren’t you satisfied?” “Don’t forget it was you,” he continued, his words biting, “You said you want to be with me no matter who I had been with.” “I could have kept it from you, but I told you out of respect, and now you’ve really disappointed me.” . “Think carefully about how I’ve treated you recently,” his voice laced with frustration. “You want a child, and I’ve tried my best to accommodate you.” With that, he slammed the door, the echo of it reverberating through the room, leaving me gasping for air, drowning in the suffocating darkness. Mike had disappeared before dawn, vanishing like a ghost, leaving the house cold and empty. I was alone, and the weight of it crushed me. The silence was unbearable, and a part of me knew—I deserved this. I had allowed myself to fall so deeply into this trap, to believe in a love that had long since withered. The phone rang several times, and I reluctantly answered. It was John, one of Mike’s colleagues, expressing concern with a kindness I couldn’t even register. But in his well-meaning words, he let something slip. Mike hadn’t been at work recently. He’d been with her—taking care of Elena. My heart shattered, but I had no time to let the pain consume me. I dragged myself to the hospital, every step heavy with dread, knowing what I had to do. I couldn’t bring this child into a world where love didn’t exist, where the only thing waiting for us was abandonment and betrayal. The abortion was quick. Too quick. Ten minutes was all it took for the life inside me to be erased. When they wheeled me out, I felt hollow, like a shell of the person I used to be. My face was pale, my hands trembling as I numbly handed over my credit card to pay the bill.

But fate, cruel as ever, wasn’t finished with me. As I turned to leave, I saw him. Mike. Standing there, holding Elena by the shoulders, his face twisted in anger. He spotted me before I could slip away, and in an instant, his expression darkened. “Are you following me?” he barked, his voice filled with accusation, as though I were the one intruding on his life, as if I were the problem here. My body still ached from the procedure, my heart even more so. Instead of answering Mike, I turned my gaze to Elena. She shifted uncomfortably under my stare. But rather than confronting the weight of the moment, she feigned anger, pulling Mike’s ear playfully, her voice dripping with insincerity. “How can you talk like that? Why would Mary follow us? We’re open and honest with each other, and it’s not like Mary doesn’t understand.” All I could manage was a bitter smile, tinged with the sharp taste of irony. “Yes, what does it have to do with me if you and your wife come for a prenatal checkup? Why would I follow you?” But Mike’s anger flared, and his voice sliced through the tension. “What do you mean? I only regard Elena as my sister!”

3 Elena’s eyes glinted with mischief as she accused Mike, her voice dripping with mock outrage. “How could you do that?!” she yelled, but that sly smile gave her away. A wave of nausea hit me, and I leaned heavily against the wall, gritting my teeth against the pain. Suddenly, she collapsed dramatically onto the ground, clutching her stomach and wailing, “I can’t believe this is happening!” The absurdity of her antics clashed with my suffering, amplifying the tension as I struggled to rise, feeling utterly betrayed by the chaos swirling around me. “Mike, don’t!” I wanted to scream, but the words lodged in my throat as he rushed to Elena’s side, leaving me behind. “If anything happens to Elena, I will never forgive you!” he shouted, his voice echoing in my ears like a death knell. A cold sweat broke out across my skin as pain coursed through me, each pulse feeling like a knife cutting deeper. “I’m even more glad I didn’t have this child,” I thought bitterly, irony and sadness twisting in my chest. “How can a man who doesn’t even love his wife truly love her child?” When I finally made it home, my hands trembled as I reached for my phone, desperate to pour out my resentment and pain. But then I saw it—Elena’s post. The image of Mike’s back loomed like a shadow, the caption cutting deep: “With a man who loves me like this, I feel safe.” Jorge’s comments stung like venom, each word dripping with disdain. “You’ve been with Elena for so many years, and everyone knows you can’t let go, so why don’t you follow your heart?” His sarcastic tone ignited a fire in me, fanning the flames of my anger. I couldn’t hold it back any longer; my fingers flew over the screen as I typed, “We’re getting divorced soon. I can’t believe you’ve been worrying about Mike for all these years.” As I hit send, a surge of satisfaction coursed through me, washing away the weight of unspoken grievances. Then, I opened my Moments and selected two pictures, one of which was a pregnancy report, and the other was a miscarriage report. A complex emotion surged in my heart, and I typed: “Finally I can be free.” At that moment, it seemed that all the repression and pain were released in this sentence.

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My boyfriend won $20 million in the lottery and immediately broke up with me. “Our social classes are different. You’re too low for me.” Then he turned around and hooked up with that girl at work. I laughed. He forgot that lottery ticket was from the previous draw. I rolled down the window of my Maserati and said to them, “You two are way too low for me.” 1 “Let’s break up, Harper Westbrook! I just won $20 million in the lottery.” Chase Collins stood in front of me, his expression smug as he spoke those words. “All because of that?” I asked, looking up at him. “Of course! You’ve probably never even seen that much money, have you? My mom says there are different classes of people. Now that we’ve made it to the top, you and I aren’t on the same level anymore.” I couldn’t help but laugh. $20 million, and they think they’re part of high society? I didn’t even have time to tell him that my dad owns several buildings that rake in more than $20 million in rent every year, not to mention his companies. But it’s fine. Honestly, I was glad to get rid of someone like him. Better to cut ties early. No tears over love, only sleepless nights thinking about money! Chase glanced at me. “By the way, even though you paid for the $50 lottery ticket, I’m the one who bought it. So don’t expect a penny from me.” He’d always had this habit of buying lottery tickets, dreaming of getting rich overnight. But when it came time to pay, he’d always have an excuse—his phone was dead, or his payment wasn’t working. Right, because the bank really cares about a few bucks, right? “My mom doesn’t like you either,” Chase added. “She thinks you’re too tacky. Remember last time you met her? All you gave her were some cheap, no-name gifts. You embarrassed us.” I shot back, “God must’ve spilled wisdom all over the world, but your family held up an umbrella!” I still remember the first time I met his mom. I gave her a pure wool scarf designed by an Italian luxury designer, worth five figures, and a bottle of French court perfume. Now it’s apparently a ‘cheap, no-name gift’ to them. Like a catfish splashing water, suddenly thinking it’s seafood. He continued, “I won’t argue with you because I’m an elite. But since we’re breaking up, let’s settle things. Why don’t you sell back the gifts I gave you?” Typical Chase. Even winning the lottery doesn’t change his stinginess. “No need! I still have all the stuff you gave me! I’ll return every bit of it.” “Your $9.99 skincare set? I was too scared to use it, in case it ruined my skin! “That $19.99 shirt and tie set? I didn’t want to wear it in case I broke out in hives! “And that $10 box of bread? I was worried it’d make me sick, and even the medical bills wouldn’t cover it!” The crowd around us burst into laughter. Chase’s face turned red as he snapped back, “Don’t just bring that up! What about all the money I gave you? Didn’t I send you cash on holidays?” “Sure did.” I nodded, pulling out my phone to check the records. Valentine’s Day: $5.20, Fourth of July: $6.60, Christmas: $8.80… “You’re so thoughtful. So generous!” I laughed. Even my cousin in elementary school gives me more than that. I used to think he was so sweet and attentive that I didn’t care about the little things. But now? Looking back, I must’ve had water on the brain. Enough to fill the entire Lake Michigan! Chase puffed out his chest. “That was the past! Things are different now. I’ve won $20 million! I can buy whatever I want, and you no longer deserve to be with me!” I nodded. “Alright then. In that case, why don’t you return the gifts I gave you?” Chase laughed. “The stuff you gave me? It’s all knockoffs, isn’t it? How much could it be worth?” Chase grew up poor. His dad passed away early, and he and his mom depended on each other. To protect his fragile ego, I always cut the tags off the gifts I gave him, and they didn’t have any flashy logos. “That belt you’re wearing? Gucci, limited edition. $10,000. “Those shoes? C-brand, $15,000. “That jacket? Also C-brand, $30,000.” I listed them off, one by one. Chase’s face fell. “You think I’m an idiot? You couldn’t afford the real thing. You must’ve just bought some knockoffs to fool me!” Right, because he couldn’t tell real from fake. I pulled out my phone. “Here’s the purchase history and receipts. If you don’t believe me, go check with the store.” “And the scarf and perfume I gave your mom? They weren’t any cheaper than the stuff I gave you. But I’ll let that go. Just give me $100,000 for everything else I’ve gifted you.” In reality, I’d spent over $200,000 on him over the years. But if he gave me $200,000, his mom would probably make my life a nightmare. Chase gritted his teeth. “Who knows if what you gave me was real or fake? Let’s call it $50,000. I’ll give you $10,000 now and the rest once I cash in the lottery.” Fine by me. Even though it’s a drop in the bucket compared to my bank balance, who says no to more money? 2 After receiving the $10,000 in my account, I stood up and said to Chase, “Thanks, Chase. That’s the first time you’ve been so generous!” He looked pained but still spat back, “Good. Don’t ever come looking for me again, loser! “And don’t ever try to contact me. I’m afraid your bad luck will mess up my fortune.” I nodded vigorously, making sure he saw me agree. After Chase left, I told my driver to bring my Bentley around from the garage. I’m done pretending. That night, Chase posted on Instagram. There were two photos: one of the lottery ticket, and another of him taking a selfie at the Maserati dealership. The caption read: “Just focus on two things: working hard and loving yourself. Luck will follow you if you smile enough. 😊” I almost gagged on my dinner. As I was about to delete him, something about that lottery ticket caught my eye. The numbers weren’t fully shown, but the draw number was clear: 38

But… the winning numbers for draw 381 didn’t match those! I quickly looked up the results online and realized Chase had mistaken the previous draw’s numbers as the winning ones for his ticket. He probably watched a replay or looked at the wrong draw number, thinking he’d won $20 million! This was about to get interesting. I couldn’t wait to see his face when he learned the truth. 3 Midway through work, I was sneaking a break when I overheard Savannah Moore, the office gold digger, bragging to a coworker. “My boyfriend just moved into Ridgewood Heights.” I froze. What a coincidence. My dad had bought me a place there too, though I rarely stayed. Since Chase worked nearby, I’d given him a key to use the place when he worked late. I told him it was rented. He moved in without a second thought, never considering the rent probably cost more than his monthly salary. I was just thinking about taking back the keys when Savannah said, “He calls me his lucky girl. Ever since we got together, he won $20 million!” Everyone around her gasped with envy. Wait. Ridgewood Heights? $20 million? Could it really be…? I hesitantly asked, “Does your boyfriend happen to be named Chase?” Savannah shot me a wary look. “You know him? Don’t even think about trying to steal him just because he’s rich. He’s way out of your league!” Of course, it was him! Chase had been seeing Savannah while we were still together? Did he really think Savannah was upper-class material? If my dad knew about this, he’d die laughing. Savannah always flaunted fake designer bags, rotating them every day of the week. In Chase’s eyes, someone who couldn’t even tell real from fake, Savannah must’ve looked like a wealthy princess. Talk about a match made in heaven! Two gold diggers, perfect for each other! Best wishes. Please stay together forever. That night, Savannah posted on Instagram, a photo of her and Chase with the caption: “No more waiting. The one I’ve been waiting for is here.” Five minutes later, Chase posted their picture too, with the cringy caption: “Us.” 4 The manager of my favorite luxury store texted me, saying they’d just gotten new stock and invited me to check it out. Since I had nothing better to do, I decided to swing by. As soon as I walked in, there they were: Chase and Savannah. There was only one sales associate in the store. She glanced at me and completely ignored me, continuing to smile and serve them. Savannah was wearing a logo-plastered outfit, even though it was so last season. Meanwhile, I was in a simple t-shirt and carrying a canvas bag. No wonder the saleswoman thought I wasn’t worth her time. Savannah noticed me too. “What kind of people are they letting in this store?” Chase added, “Harper Westbrook, what are you doing here? You can’t afford anything in this store.” I smiled. “Oh? Did your family open this store? I didn’t know I needed permission to look around.” The saleswoman clearly picked up on the tension and sided with them. “I’m sorry, miss, but the lowest-priced item in our store is $30,000. If you can’t afford it, you really shouldn’t waste your time.” I couldn’t help but laugh inside. She had no idea who she was backing. After showing Savannah several bags, I overheard her say to Chase, “Baby, I want this one, and the second one in that row too.” The sales associate beamed. “Oh, you have such good taste, miss! These are our bestsellers. You’ve got a great eye.” Savannah, pleased, slung the bag over her shoulder and admired herself in the mirror. Then she noticed me. “Harper Westbrook, aren’t you embarrassed carrying around that cheap canvas bag? Aren’t you supposed to have a job?” I was carrying a canvas bag because I planned to go grocery shopping later. Gotta think green, you know? Save the planet. I shot back, “What’s wrong with a canvas bag? Does your family live by the sea or something? Why are you so concerned?” Savannah, frustrated, rushed back to Chase. “This one, that one, and the other one—I want them all!” Chase, trying to sound generous, said, “Buy them all!” The saleswoman’s eyes sparkled with glee. I picked up a black handbag, wanting a closer look, when the saleswoman stormed over. “I’m sorry, miss, but this is our latest model. It costs $150,000 and is only available to our VVIP clients. Please don’t touch it—you might get it dirty.” Savannah laughed. “Harper, don’t get your filthy hands on that bag. You couldn’t afford it even if you sold yourself.” I was about to fire back when a sharp voice came from the entrance. 5 “Who said Harper can’t afford it?” The saleswoman panicked. “M-manager, you’re back!” Amanda, the store manager, walked in and immediately apologized to me. “I’m so sorry, Harper. I went to grab your coffee. This new employee didn’t know any better.” She turned to the saleswoman and added, “Harper is one of our VVIP clients. She gets first pick of all new stock. Only after she passes on something can we offer it to other customers.” The saleswoman’s face went pale, and she hurriedly apologized. Chase’s face turned red. “You must be mistaken. Harper is just a regular office worker. How could she be one of your VVIPs? Don’t let her fool you!” The threshold for being a VVIP at this store is spending over $1 million annually. The manager glared at Chase and Savannah. “I’m sorry, but I’ll have to ask you two to leave. We’re closing the store for Harper.” Savannah huffed. “I wouldn’t shop here anyway! My boyfriend has plenty of money. He can buy me anything I want from any store. You’re all fools for falling for some poor girl’s tricks!” She grabbed Chase and stormed out. I turned to Amanda and said, “I’ll take the entire row of bags. Wrap them up for me.” 6 The next day at work, Savannah strutted around the office, showing off a new handbag. She made sure everyone noticed, circling the room several times. It wasn’t cheap—probably around $50,000. I guess Chase wasn’t completely stingy. I just wasn’t worth his effort. “Oh, this is the bag my boyfriend insisted on buying me,” Savannah said. “I didn’t even want it, but he just had to get it for me.” Coworker A: “Your boyfriend treats you so well! When will I get a sweet romance like that?” Coworker B: “Well, Savannah is gorgeous, and she comes from a good family. Of course, her boyfriend would be amazing. It’s all relative.” Bingo. A broke guy and a gold digger—a perfect match. Savannah walked over to me and said, “You can tell how much a man loves a woman by how much he’s willing to spend on her. Chase told me he never spent much on you when you two were together. How sad!” She wasn’t wrong. He used to buy me $9.99 lipsticks, and I’d pretend to be thrilled. Then I’d gift him designer clothes or shoes in return, always downplaying how expensive they were to protect his ego. I replied, “I was too young to know better. At least I’ve gotten rid of the trash now. “Speaking of trash, what brand of garbage bag are you? You seem to carry a lot.” Savannah’s face darkened. “You’re just bitter because you couldn’t keep Chase. He said you two aren’t even in the same league. Turns out, he was right!” 7 That weekend, I called a cleaning service to go to Ridgewood Heights and throw out everything Chase had touched. Just the thought of him using my stuff made my skin crawl. WWhen I got to the building, I tried to use the facial recognition system to unlock the door, but it kept saying “face not recognized.” Strange. Did I lose weight recently or something? Maybe that’s why the system didn’t recognize me? I was still mulling it over when I heard noise coming from inside the apartment.

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Scarlett had an affair with a married man and ended up pregnant. She had no job, no savings, so I tried to convince her not to keep the baby. But she insisted, saying she believed in destiny and that aborting the baby would ruin her karma and affect her future luck. But when the baby was born, she dumped him on me to raise and went off to “see the world.” I spent half my life raising Logan, my nephew, all the way through to his college acceptance. And then, just like that, Scarlett came back! She told Logan, “You don’t know this, but your Aunt Avery kept telling me to get rid of you when I was pregnant. And after you were born, she basically took you from me. You’re my flesh and blood—of course, I love you.” Logan hated me from that day on. One day, Logan got into a car accident. I risked everything to push him out of the way, and I was hit, thrown nearly thirty feet. As I lay dying, the nephew I had raised with so much love cradled my broken body and sneered softly, “You almost didn’t let me exist, then you kept me away from my mother for years, depriving me of her love. This life and whatever insurance payout you’ve left me—consider it your penance.” A bright white light engulfed me, taking me back to the day Scarlett knocked on my door, her belly just beginning to show. I opened my eyes to see her sitting in front of me, crying as she asked, “Avery, I have no one else. Should I keep this baby or not?” I pulled a coin from my pocket and placed it in her hand. “Sis, you believe in destiny, don’t you? Let the universe guide you—flip it.”

Scarlett stared at the coin, utterly dumbfounded. She looked at me like I’d lost my mind. Because she knew me well. She knew I was tough on the outside but soft on the inside. She expected me to beg her not to have the baby. But if she chose to keep it, she knew I wouldn’t be able to turn away. I’d get attached to the baby, and once I did, she’d use the guilt of me telling her to abort to manipulate me into doing everything for her. She’d done it before. Many times. We were only a year apart, and when our parents died young, we had to rely on the kindness of relatives and my scholarships to get by. I knew education was the only way to change my fate, so aside from working weekends and holidays, I spent every waking minute studying. My hard work paid off. I always scored at the top of my class and received so many scholarships that the money was enough to cover both Scarlett’s and my living expenses. But Scarlett wasn’t like me. She loved reading romance novels and fantasized about being the heroine in some rich love story. She only went to school to scope out guys she could settle down with—potential “success stories,” she called them. When she realized her grades would never get her into college, she decided to start working early, dreaming of being discovered by some rich executive at the office. “Avery, with my grades, do you think it’s even worth staying in school? I feel like I should just start working and save some money instead…” Given our circumstances, I agreed. It made sense at the time. That one word—“yes”—would come back to haunt me for the rest of my life. She couldn’t find a good job and started blaming me, saying if I had pushed her to stay in school, at least she’d have a diploma. She couldn’t find a decent man and blamed me again, saying if I hadn’t convinced her to drop out, maybe she wouldn’t have been looked down on for her lack of education. I felt guilty, so I worked part-time while going to college, supporting her the whole way through. I didn’t even dare date anyone in college because every break, I’d be working myself to the bone to make sure she was comfortable. It wasn’t until much later that I realized she’d taken the money I earned and borrowed loans to buy luxury brands, playing the part of a high-class woman to attract men. Time and time again, she’d trick me into stepping into these traps, and then use emotional blackmail to manipulate me. She’d been doing it ever since we were kids. But in my past life, I cared too much about the bond of family to see the truth. I let her control me willingly. After I died, my soul floated above, watching as the truth played out in front of me. The car accident wasn’t an accident at all—it was orchestrated by Scarlett and Logan, betting that I would die for the nephew I had raised. They took the life insurance money, claimed my house as their own… and when my ashes were finally returned to them, they tossed the urn into the trash. As the memories of my previous life flashed before me, the pain and bitterness I felt were unbearable. All I wanted was another chance to destroy them both. Fortunately, the universe had other plans. I was reborn.

“Scarlett, flip it! Why aren’t you flipping it? Don’t tell me you don’t believe in destiny?” I waved a hand in front of her face to snap her out of it. She awkwardly picked up the coin, muttering, “Fine. Destiny, give me a sign. Heads, I keep the baby; tails, I don’t.” The coin spun in the air, landed, and flipped over—heads. “Well, looks like destiny wants you to keep the baby! So go ahead and have it.” Before, Scarlett had been working at Mr. Leonard Blackwood’s antique shop when she got involved with him, a married man. He was a smooth talker, convincing her to believe in destiny, using it to manipulate her. He tricked her into buying all these statues and trinkets that supposedly needed to be “blessed” or “worshipped.” She spent her entire paycheck on those things. And she borrowed from me constantly. Well, she called it borrowing—I knew she’d never pay me back. Now, she was pregnant, and Leonard told her his wife had found out, so she needed to leave the apartment he had rented for her. “But if I have the baby, where will we stay?” Scarlett’s eyes roamed greedily around my house, her tone turning pitiful. This house was the one Ethan and I had bought together, our future home. In my last life, Scarlett insisted on keeping the baby, guilted me into letting her stay, and that decision led to disaster. I was blinded by my sense of duty and agreed to help her. That was the beginning of the end. So, this time, I had to stop it right at the source. “That’s easy. Mom and Dad’s old cottage in Bluegrass is still empty. And just last week, Aunt Rachel called me. She opened a little corner market and needs help running it. You can stay at the old house, help her out, and earn some money. You’ll have a place to stay and a way to support yourself. Who knows? Maybe if you have a son, Leonard will come back and treat you like a queen.” Scarlett looked at me like I had suddenly changed into a different person, full of suspicion, but also thinking that what I was saying made sense. Before she could start overthinking it, I quickly called Aunt Rachel and made the arrangements. Now all I had to do was wait for Ethan to get off work and drive her back to Kentucky. “But I still feel like…” Scarlett hesitated. “Don’t worry. Don’t you think this is destiny’s way of showing you the path? Everything happens for a reason, and it’s all part of a bigger plan. Just follow it,” I quickly reassured her, shutting down any doubts she had. After all, in my past life, this was exactly how she had manipulated me. She moved into my house with that pregnant belly and caused complete chaos, single-handedly wrecking the relationship I had with Ethan’s family. In the end, Ethan and I broke up, he moved out, but left the house to me. Before leaving, Scarlett had the audacity to pat my shoulder and say, “Don’t worry, this is destiny’s plan. It’s just showing you that Ethan isn’t the right man for you.” After Ethan moved out, she immediately complained that the guest room was too uncomfortable because of her pregnancy and took over my master bedroom. This time, I wasn’t going to let that happen. No way was I going to lose the man I loved and the future I deserved to these two ungrateful wolves ever again. And I certainly wasn’t going to give up the love and support of the mother-in-law who treated me like her own daughter.

After I dropped Scarlett off at the old family cottage, I immediately dragged Ethan to the courthouse to get our marriage license. Ethan held the license in disbelief. “Honey, slap me. Am I dreaming?” This fool. In my previous life, after we broke up, he never married anyone else. He stayed single. When he heard about my death, he couldn’t even find my grave. He took my old coat, the only thing of mine still at his place, and made a little memorial out of it, talking to it every day like I was still there. Earlier, with Scarlett around, I had to keep my emotions in check. But now that she was gone, I broke down, clinging to Ethan. “You’re not dreaming. I’m the one who had a nightmare. But I’m awake now.” I told Ethan a little bit about my past life. He didn’t believe me at first. So I told him, in a few days, his company would send him on a business trip to Savannah. No matter what, he needed to go. In my previous life, after Scarlett moved in, Ethan’s mom came to visit us. While we were out, Scarlett snooped through our bedroom drawers, and his mom caught her. They argued, and Scarlett, being pregnant, wasn’t backing down. She pushed Ethan’s mom, and she hit her head on the corner of a table. Ethan had to stay and take care of his mom, missing out on a business trip that would have secured him a huge contract and a promotion. The colleague who went instead got that contract and spent the next twenty years climbing higher and higher while Ethan was stuck in a rut. Sure enough, three days after Ethan’s mom arrived, he was notified about the Savannah trip. This time, without Scarlett around to cause trouble, Ethan’s mom and I got along perfectly. Nothing interfered with his trip. Ethan finally believed me about my rebirth. He always listened to me before, but now, he was practically hanging on my every word. Just as we returned from the airport after dropping Ethan off, Scarlett was standing at the door with her suitcase. “Avery! You’re finally back!” “I have to tell you, Aunt Rachel’s cooking is terrible. I’m so used to your cooking!” “And her store? She wants me to wake up at nine in the morning. You know I’m pregnant—I can’t get up that early!” “Seriously, how do you expect me to live like this, huh?” The moment Scarlett stepped into the house, she started her endless complaints, nagging non-stop until she noticed the guest room—the one she used to stay in—was now filled with Mrs. Florence Caldwell’s things. She finally stopped talking and turned to me. “What’s going on here?” “Oh! Sis, I was just about to call you. Ethan and I got our marriage license! And Mom has already moved in with us.” I smiled as I took Mrs. Caldwell’s hand. Scarlett froze for a moment, clearly stunned. She had spent so long trying to brainwash me, convincing me that everyone from my in-laws’ side, especially my future mother-in-law, was an outsider. She always warned me that getting too close to them would only bring bad luck. And now, here I was, living with my mother-in-law. Scarlett gave me a look that screamed, “Have you lost your mind?” She didn’t even bother to greet Mrs. Caldwell before dragging me into another room to talk in private. “Avery, are you even listening to anything I’ve ever told you? Didn’t I warn you that Ethan’s mom is nothing but trouble? And now you’ve actually let her move in with you? Are you trying to drive me insane? And what about this house? There are only two bedrooms—if she’s staying in one, where am I supposed to stay?” I raised a finger to my lips. “Shh…” I gestured for her to follow me to the window seat where I had set up a little altar with a small jade Universal God statue I had bought for thirty bucks online. “Sis, keep it down. Don’t disturb the God …” “What the…?” Scarlett stared at me, bewildered. After all those years of her trying to brainwash me, I had always resisted this kind of superstition. I’d often tell her not to waste her money on these things. Now, all of a sudden, I looked like a devout believer. “Sis, you don’t understand. It’s because of you and your belief in destiny that I’ve been blessed. Destiny came to me in a dream and told me that Ethan is my perfect match, but only if he lives with his mother to fulfill his duty. That’s the only way we’ll ever achieve real success.” “Guess what? Ever since I followed that guidance and moved Mrs. Caldwell in, Ethan’s been sent to Savannah to negotiate a multimillion-dollar deal. If it goes through, his promotion is guaranteed. And we’ll even be able to afford a bigger house—three bedrooms!” “Sure, his mom is a bit of a handful, but hey, she’s basically our ticket to fortune! But, sis, you’re pregnant, and I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable here.” “Besides, I heard Mrs. Blackwood is still looking for you. You gave this address on your job application, right? If she shows up here, all your hard work could go down the drain.” “You should stay at the old family cottage for now. Once things settle down, I’ll bring you back.” As I painted the picture of a bright, successful future, Scarlett’s previously dull eyes lit up with excitement. She was convinced that if Ethan succeeded, it meant she’d be in for a windfall too. When we walked back into the living room, she was practically beaming at Mrs. Caldwell, addressing her with overly sweet “Auntie this” and “Auntie that.” Poor Mrs. Caldwell, who had no idea what had just transpired, stood there, completely confused. The truth is, Mrs. Caldwell wasn’t hard to take care of at all. She treated me better than my own mother ever had. I thought back to my previous life and how I had sided with Scarlett so many times, letting Mrs. Caldwell down repeatedly. Even when Ethan and I broke up, and he left me the house he had put the down payment on, she didn’t oppose it. The guilt I felt was overwhelming. After I got Scarlett out of the house, I took Mrs. Caldwell on a much-needed shopping spree. We’d always lived so frugally that it felt good to spoil her a little. “You two just got married. You’re going to need money for so many things. Don’t waste it on me…” she protested. “Don’t worry, Mom. Ethan and I are both moving up in our careers. Money won’t be an issue. But next year, we’ll need to head out of town for work. While we’re gone, you’ll need to watch over the house and make sure no one gets in.” At this point, Mrs. Caldwell hadn’t yet realized the full extent of Scarlett’s antics. But based on our past interactions, she knew I had always been the type to put my sister first, what some might call a “sibling servant.” She had tried to talk to Ethan about it many times. Now that I had finally come to my senses, Mrs. Caldwell was relieved. She told us not to worry and assured us that she’d take good care of the house. Before long, just as I predicted, Ethan successfully closed the deal in Savannah. The company didn’t hesitate to promote him, though the new position required him to spend a year at their Savannah branch. Without a second thought, I applied for a transfer to our company’s Savannah office as well, ensuring we’d stay together. Not only would this prevent our relationship from suffering due to the distance, but it also conveniently allowed me to avoid Scarlett’s constant pestering for a while. There was another reason too. From my memories of my previous life, I knew that in a few months, the new industrial park in Savannah would need supplies. In my past life, the deal had fallen into the lap of an unqualified receptionist who didn’t even know how to leverage it. This time, I was prepared. I had all my materials ready, and before they even started looking for suppliers, I was already reaching out, building connections with the procurement team. I even got the proposal pre-approved by my company. Opportunity favors the prepared, and sure enough, a few months later, I secured the deal. The seven-figure commission hit my account just as expected. During that time, Scarlett kept trying to get in touch with me, but I used the “destiny” excuse to dodge her every time. Aunt Rachel would call me now and then, saying Scarlett was still acting crazy, spending all her money on statues and Universal God figurines. She wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t take care of herself, and just kept offering things up, hoping destiny would treat her the way it had treated me. Months later, when destiny didn’t deliver, and things kept getting worse for her, she snapped and burned all her statues in a fit of rage. After that, when she found out we had left for Savannah, she decided to sneak back to our house, thinking she could just slip in. But when she opened the door, there was Mrs. Caldwell, sitting at the table with Ethan’s two aunts, Violet and June, playing cards. Mrs. Caldwell was sharp. She had worked as a high-level manager for a national company before retiring, known in her younger days as a no-nonsense, iron-willed woman. In my past life, out of love for me, she had tolerated Scarlett’s antics so I could focus on my job. She had squeezed into the tiny two-foot entryway, sleeping on a makeshift bed. Scarlett had constantly tormented her, trying every trick in the book to drive her away. Mrs. Caldwell endured it all for my sake, never wanting to cause me any trouble. But this time, with my full blessing, Mrs. Caldwell fought back. Scarlett didn’t stand a chance. She failed every time and couldn’t even get past the front door. And just like that, a year passed. Ethan’s internship was completed, and with my outstanding performance, I applied to return to headquarters to take on a leadership role. Scarlett, however, must have caught wind of something. She was waiting on my doorstep with a three-month-old Logan in her arms, ready to stir up trouble once again…

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When Mrs. Campbell handed me a $5 million check to leave Ryan, I didn’t hesitate for a second. I had spent five years by Ryan’s side, giving him the best years of my youth without any official status. This $5 million didn’t seem like much in comparison. The news spread quickly to Ryan’s ears. I later heard that he had even skipped his most important meeting to rush over that day. When Ryan arrived at the apartment he had bought for me, I was in the middle of packing my things. “What do you think you’re doing?” Ryan’s face was as dark as a thundercloud. After being with him for so many years, I knew this look. He was furious. “Mr. Campbell, is it really that hard to understand? $5 million to break up with you – seems pretty straightforward to me,” I said, trying to smile and maintain my composure. My words only served to infuriate Ryan further. He practically growled, “You’ll regret this once you’re gone!” With that, Ryan stormed out, slamming the door behind him. To be fair, Ryan had treated me well over the years, at least materially. He had kept me like a pampered bird in a gilded cage, never skimping on designer bags, luxury clothes, or expensive watches. If I had stayed with him, I would have certainly received more than this $5 million. But I was tired of it all. If I hadn’t recently heard that Olivia Parker was returning from abroad, I might have almost forgotten my true status in Ryan’s life. Olivia was Ryan’s fiancée, the one Mrs. Campbell had always approved of as a suitable daughter-in-law from an equally prestigious family. I managed to pack up my belongings in less than half an hour, feeling rather proud of my efficiency. After leaving the apartment, I had nowhere to go, so I ended up at my best friend Lucy’s place. Unfortunately, I arrived to find Lucy’s boyfriend was also there. Watching the loving couple together made me feel like a third wheel. Lucy gave me an apologetic look, and since I hadn’t given her any advance notice, I decided to go to a hotel instead. Coincidentally, it was a hotel Ryan and I used to frequent. Sometimes when he’d had too much to drink, we’d check in here to rest. Ryan rarely lost his composure in front of others, even when drunk. But on the rare occasions when he did overindulge, no one could handle him except me. His secretary would always call me whenever Ryan had too much to drink. As I was checking in at the front desk, the receptionist recognized me. She smiled and asked, “Is Mr. Campbell not with you today?” I shook my head and replied matter-of-factly, “Mr. Campbell and I are no longer together.” The receptionist seemed taken aback by my candid response and looked a bit embarrassed. After all, my relationship with Ryan had been well-known in certain social circles. Ryan was a famous bachelor in the business world, and I was… well, his mistress. Once I had checked in, I decided to treat myself to a relaxing bubble bath. Rose petals floated on the water’s surface, their gentle fragrance filling the air – it was my favorite. Ryan had always been allergic to flower pollen, so I had never been able to enjoy a flower petal bath before. As I lay in the bathtub, watching the steam rise, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. I stayed at the hotel for three whole days until Lucy came to find me. Lucy knew about my breakup with Ryan and suggested we go on a trip together to help me clear my head. However, the day before we were supposed to leave, Lucy’s company had an emergency that required her attention. Just like that, our girls’ trip turned into a solo adventure. In the end, I decided to go to Chiang Mai, Thailand, by myself. As soon as I boarded the plane, I received a call from Ryan. The phone rang for a long time, until a flight attendant came over to remind me that the plane was about to take off and I needed to switch my phone to airplane mode. Just before I turned off my phone, a message from Ryan came through: I’ll only say this once. Come back when you’re done with this nonsense. Reading that short line of text suddenly reminded me of something that had happened four years ago. Four years ago, after I had been with Ryan for a year, I suddenly learned about Olivia’s existence. That night, I drank a lot and threw a tantrum for the first time. Ryan was working in his study at the time, and I came home drunk. Ryan never allowed anyone to disturb him while he was working, and I had always been obedient. But that night, emboldened by alcohol, I deliberately went to bother him. Wearing a spaghetti strap nightgown, I asked him what was more important – his work or me. That night, he was truly angry. He took off his gold-rimmed glasses and looked at me coldly. “Natalie, I’ll say this one more time. I’m working. Get out.” I didn’t listen, and he threw me out of the study, coat and all. After storming out of the mansion in a huff, I quickly regretted my actions. The neighborhood was in a secluded area, and at night it was completely deserted. To make matters worse, I hadn’t brought my purse with me, which only added to my misery. As I huddled by the roadside, shivering and clutching my coat around me, Ryan came looking for me. His face was ashen as he towered over me and said, “Are you done with your tantrum?” I bit my trembling, purple lips, about to stubbornly retort when a sneeze escaped instead. Perhaps it was because I looked so pitiful at that moment, but Ryan’s eyes softened slightly. For the first time, he bent down to help me up, but my pride got the better of me and I pushed him away. His hand hovered in the air, and I could tell he was truly angry now. “I’ll only say this once. Come back when you’re done with this nonsense.” True to his word, after saying this, Ryan turned and walked away. I called out to him, “Give me my purse.” “Natalie, I bought that purse for you. If you’re not planning on coming back, you can forget about taking it with you.” At that moment, I suddenly understood the nature of my relationship with Ryan. The Louis Vuitton and Hermès bags I carried, the designer clothes I wore – they were all bought by Ryan. Seeing that I remained silent, Ryan bent down once more and picked me up in his arms. From that day on, I became extremely obedient, staying by Ryan’s side without complaint. And so, five years passed… I turned off my phone, casually deleting Ryan’s message. After a two-hour flight, I arrived at Chiang Mai International Airport. Unfortunately, shortly after disembarking, my bag was stolen. At the police station, the Thai officer eyed my expensive designer outfit. His expression seemed to say, “If they didn’t steal from you, who would they steal from?” Unable to communicate due to the language barrier, with no money and no valid identification, I couldn’t prove my identity. The police pushed a phone towards me, gesturing for me to call someone for help. My parents had passed away when I was very young, and I had been raised by my grandmother. But my grandmother had passed away before she could enjoy her golden years, the same year I met Ryan. He had been like a ray of light shining into my dark life. With no other choice, I tried calling Ryan. I dialed his international number again and again, but the constant ringing only served as a reminder that the light that had once illuminated my life had truly disappeared. I couldn’t remember Lucy’s number, and the police officer across from me was quickly losing patience. It wasn’t until late afternoon that a young American man came to my rescue. His name was Sean Thompson, and he happened to be at the police station that day on business. Seeing me sitting alone in the corner, looking lost, he approached me out of a sense of camaraderie for a fellow foreigner. He used his fluent Thai to help me communicate with the police. After leaving the police station, I got a new phone number, effectively cutting off all contact with Ryan. But occasionally, I would still come across news about him online. I saw photos of him shopping with Olivia, looking at her adoringly. There were articles about the two of them attending ribbon-cutting ceremonies for newly opened hotels, looking like the perfect power couple. And then came the announcements of their upcoming wedding of the century… I decided to stay in Chiang Mai and became good friends with Sean. With Sean’s help, I successfully landed a job at a Thai-American joint venture company. The five years I had spent as Ryan’s kept woman had left me feeling ill-equipped to fend for myself in the real world. Between the language barrier and the demands of my new job, I was grateful to have Sean’s support. Sean and I, two lonely souls adrift in a foreign land, found comfort in each other’s company. But no one had told us that when two lonely people huddle together, it doesn’t necessarily make them feel any warmer. Standing on a balcony with a panoramic view, I smiled and asked Sean, “Why did you choose to stay here?” He looked up at me, his eyes filled with a deep sadness. It was the time of year for the Yi Peng Lantern Festival again. The sky was filled with floating lanterns, their warm yellow light casting a glow on Sean’s chiseled features. I learned his story then. Coming to Chiang Mai for the Lantern Festival had been his late girlfriend’s wish. He said, “They say if you make a wish on a sky lantern, it will come true.” I knew that as he said this, he must have been thinking of his girlfriend. But his girlfriend never made it here, having passed away in his arms. I clasped my hands together and made a sincere wish to the countless lanterns floating in the sky: I wished to forget Ryan. As days passed, work kept me busy. Sometimes I even had to deal with harassment from my lecherous boss. The sleazy man would use work as an excuse to touch me inappropriately and make crude jokes. To help me out, Sean pretended to be my boyfriend when he came to pick me up from work one day. After that, my boss stopped harassing me, and no other colleagues tried to pursue me romantically. I was grateful for the peace and quiet. After living in Chiang Mai for nearly two years, I suddenly received an assignment from my company to go to the United States for a project. Within a couple of days, I had packed my things and returned to the States with a few Thai colleagues. As soon as our plane landed, representatives from the client company were already at the airport to escort us to our hotel. The hotel was one Ryan used to frequent, and I felt a moment of disorientation as I stood at the entrance. Memories I thought I had forgotten came rushing back like a tidal wave. It wasn’t until I saw that the receptionist had changed that I finally relaxed my tight grip on my suitcase handle. “Welcome, Mr. Campbell, Ms. Parker…”

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My husband Lucas was wearing a diamond ring on his ring finger that matched mine. I was about to bring up divorce. “The supercar you bought will be delivered next month,” he said. I swallowed the word ‘divorce’. I’ll bring it up next month! For the sake of my sports car, I’ll endure! “I bought a bunny outfit. Come home early tonight, honey,” I said. Lucas kissed me on the lips and replied, “Sure, I’m looking forward to my little bunny.” Main Text: I saw Bella White’s Instagram post: “Finally back in the States. Everything feels so familiar.” The photo showed her in a coffee shop. But my attention was drawn to a hand visible in the bottom right corner. A slender hand with long, elegant fingers, wearing a ring on the fourth finger that matched mine exactly. The owner of that hand was none other than my husband. I couldn’t believe his first love had just returned, and he was already rushing to meet her. I got out of the jacuzzi and started my elaborate skincare routine. Thank goodness my husband had worked hard to earn money all these years, allowing me to live the pampered life of a trophy wife. Now that his first love was back, it looked like I’d have to step aside soon. Might as well enjoy the luxuries while I still could. I thought I’d be sleeping alone tonight, but to my surprise, a warm body slid into bed next to me later that night. … The next morning, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, feeling utterly drained. Divorce! We must get divorced! Otherwise, I’d die young from exhaustion. I reached for my phone to check the time. 11 AM. As expected of Lucas. “You’re awake? Don’t just lie there, get up and eat!” Lucas called, opening the bedroom door to urge me out of bed. He was still wearing the black apron I’d bought him, looking every bit the domestic husband. Tsk, where was his usual CEO demeanor now? 2 “You have time today?” I asked, eyeing the elaborate spread of three dishes and soup on the table. A thought flashed through my mind – guilty conscience. Oh, had he actually done something with his first love and was trying to make it up to me with a nice meal? “I just finished a big project and thought I’d take a break,” he replied. Bullshit! It’s obviously because your first love is back. How could a workaholic like him suddenly want to take a break? Lucas placed a piece of fish on my plate. “Eat up, you need the nutrients. Thanks for your hard work.” You dog! I glared at him and buried my face in my bowl, not saying another word. After the meal, I lounged on the couch watching my guilty pleasure soap opera while he washed some fruit and placed it on the coffee table before sitting down next to me to check the stock market. The TV drama was unbearably cliché, so I took out my phone and started scrolling through Twitter. That’s when I saw the trending topic. #BellaWhiteReturns# I suddenly remembered that Bella White used to be a famous “bare-faced beauty” actress in the entertainment industry before she quietly went abroad to study. Her fans had been devastated at the time. Sure enough, the comments under the hashtag were full of fans gushing: “Welcome home, sister!” “Is sis making a comeback? Can’t wait!” “Finally we’ll get to see sis more often!” I suddenly became curious about my husband’s reaction, so I turned to look at him. “Did you know Bella White is back in the country?” “Oh, so what?” Lucas replied nonchalantly. I snorted. This dog was putting on quite an act. If I hadn’t seen that Instagram post, I might have actually been fooled! That evening, the phone suddenly rang. I picked up and was surprised to hear Lucas’s friend, nicknamed “Big Head”. “Hey sis-in-law, why don’t you and Lucas come out and play? My bar is having its grand opening, I’m begging you guys to come support me.” I looked over at my husband, who was reading a book, and asked, “Why don’t you call him directly?” “You’ve trained Lucas well, sis! He says he’s a married man now, so he has to report to you for evening outings. And for places like bars, if you don’t agree, he won’t come.” I was speechless. The way he put it, I sounded like some kind of controlling tiger wife! In reality, I’d never restricted Lucas at all. Before we got to the bar, I thought we were just going to make an appearance. But when we arrived, I froze. Bella White was there too. “Sis-in-law, Lucas, over here,” Big Head led us to our seats. Noticing me staring at Bella, he quickly introduced her. “That’s Max Shaw’s guest. I heard she used to be a minor celebrity.” Big Head and Lucas had been friends for many years. How could he not know about Lucas and Bella’s history? Or was he just avoiding mentioning it in front of me? “Long time no see, Ava,” Max Shaw called out to me from where he was lounging on the sofa. I smiled and nodded in response. His family and mine had some business dealings, so we were acquainted. Lucas put his arm around me and led me straight to the opposite corner, as far from them as possible. I could tell he was clearly annoyed. Hmm? Had he and Bella gotten into a fight? Indeed, I caught him glancing over at Bella several times. He had a stern expression and barely responded when others greeted him. What, was he that upset seeing his first love sitting with someone else? Tsk, what a dog. To be honest, I wasn’t feeling great either. Lucas and I came from family friends and had grown up together as childhood sweethearts. Later, I went abroad for college. When I came back, I heard Lucas had found his ideal lover. I guess childhood sweethearts still couldn’t compare to fated lovers who fell from the sky? After that, Bella inexplicably went abroad, and Lucas turned around and proposed to me. At the time, my family was facing a business crisis and urgently needed financing, so I agreed to marry him. After marriage, Lucas was quite indulgent towards me, always letting me buy whatever I wanted. Even my mom said I was lucky to have married well, that no one else could afford to keep me. But looking at the man beside me now, I started to doubt if I had really married the right person. I picked up a glass of wine from the table and downed it in one go. The burning sensation stimulated my brain, making me even more clearheaded. This marriage had to end! “Why are you drinking so much? Are you in a bad mood?” Lucas snatched the wine glass away from me. “None of your business!” I snapped. Unexpectedly, the alcohol hit me hard and fast. Soon I was feeling woozy, leaning against Lucas with my hands wandering under his shirt. He grabbed my hands firmly. I could hear the huskiness in his voice as he asked, “What are you trying to do?” “I just want to touch you!” I whined. You think you can act all proper in front of your first love? Dream on! “Then let’s go home,” Lucas said without hesitation. He stood up, pulling me along and bundling me into the car. “Behave yourself. We’ll settle this when we get home,” he warned. “No, I won’t!” I kicked off my heels and slouched in the passenger seat, acting like a brat. “Listen here, don’t you dare touch me, or else today I’ll…” Before I could finish, his scorching lips were on mine, pressing me firmly against the seat. Just then, I saw Bella and Max walk past our car and get into the same vehicle. Alright, I get it now. Lucas was jealous and using me to get Bella’s attention. On the way home, I got increasingly angry as I thought about it. Finally, I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Lucas Quinn, let’s get divorced.” “You’re drunk,” he replied bluntly. “I’m not.” The cool night air had sobered me up. I was completely rational now, and could even feel the car accelerating. We finally got home. As soon as I stepped into the bathroom, Lucas was on me, kissing me feverishly. I found myself getting lost in his kisses too. Our breathing grew heavier. Lucas nipped at my lips, his words muffled. “Stay away from Max Shaw from now on.” Max Shaw? What does he have to do with anything? 4 The next morning when I woke up, Lucas had already left for work. I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Another day of failing to get up early. My best friend happened to call just then. “LV just got a new shipment in. Let’s go check it out!” “No thanks, I haven’t even gotten up yet,” I groaned. My friend’s tone turned suggestive. “Ava’s living the good life, huh?” “Shut up! I have important business today. Let’s meet up another time.” I was determined to talk to Lucas about divorce today, no matter what! After eating, I drove to his company. Lucas’s business had grown tremendously over the years. I hadn’t set foot in the company for a long time, but thankfully the receptionist still recognized me. However, she didn’t know Bella White. “I’m sorry miss, but you need an appointment to see Mr. Quinn. If you can’t make an appointment, I’m afraid you won’t be able to see him,” the receptionist explained to a frustrated-looking Bella. Seeing Bella at a loss, I was secretly delighted. I sauntered over, putting on an act. “Is Mr. Quinn in the office, Sarah?” I asked casually. The receptionist immediately bowed deeply. “Yes, ma’am. The CEO said you can go up anytime you want to see him. Let me call the elevator for you.” I shot Bella a smug look, about to leave when she suddenly called out, “Can we talk?” I gestured to the sofas by the window in the lobby. “Let’s chat there for a bit. I’m in a hurry.” Bella clenched her fists. As soon as I sat down, she blurted out, “Divorce Lucas. He loves me.” “So what? I’m Mrs. Quinn now,” I said, leaning back on the sofa and casually showing off my S-curve figure. “I’m the one who can go straight up to the top floor without an appointment. You should keep trying to make that appointment.” “Why are you clinging to Lucas?!” Bella exclaimed, veins popping on her forehead like she wanted to hit me. “There are security guards everywhere, so you’d better not try anything physical. But if you want me to divorce Lucas, that can be arranged.” Bella’s eyes flickered. “What do you want?” “Flat rate – $2 million and I’ll divorce him immediately.” Bella looked at me in disbelief. I continued, “I know it’s not easy making it in showbiz. How about this – $5 million and I’ll tell everyone Lucas and I separated amicably. For $7 million, I’ll announce that we’ve been unhappily married and divorced a while ago.” “Take your pick,” I said with a smile. “You’re shameless!” Bella cursed. “Is money all you care about? You don’t appreciate how great Lucas is.” What kind of logic was that? “You’d better decide quickly, or the price will go up. As soon as the money hits my account, I’ll talk to Lucas about dividing our assets.” “You want to take Lucas’s money even in divorce?!” What else did she expect? 5 Now it was my turn to be shocked. “Did you get stupider studying abroad? Why wouldn’t I get half? Your $7 million is buying the end of our marriage and my promise not to badmouth you publicly. But the money Lucas earned during our marriage – you think I wouldn’t get half of that?” “Why should you?!” Bella was fuming. I laughed out loud. “It’s called marital property, honey.” “But you…” Bella thought for a long time before continuing, “But what have you done for Lucas? He’s the one making all the money while you just spend it.” “I have every right to spend my husband’s money!” I stood up and lowered my voice. “Who says I haven’t helped him? I’ve been taking care of his physical needs. What, you think I’ve been sleeping with him for free these past two years?” My waist was about to break from all the action. It would be a huge loss not to get my fair share! Bella was still in shock, unable to respond. I couldn’t be bothered to argue further and headed straight for the elevator to the top floor. When I walked into the office, Lucas was standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, seemingly on a call with someone. His back was turned to me, cutting an imposing figure with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. To be honest, he was the perfect man – handsome, wealthy, good cook, and amazing in bed. Though he could be a bit too energetic at night, it was still bearable. Too bad a man like this didn’t have his heart set on me. “Why are you here?” Lucas hung up the phone and sat back down. I cleared my throat. “Um, I think we should get div-” “Oh right, I have something to tell you,” Lucas interrupted. “Remember that supercar you wanted? It’s arriving next month.” The supercar? “You mean the pink one I saw at Venus? The one with only 3 in the world?” Lucas nodded with a smile. My eyes suddenly lit up. That was a car money couldn’t even buy. Lucas’s smile deepened. “What were you about to say just now?” An internal struggle began in my mind. If I left Lucas, I definitely wouldn’t get the car. It might even end up going to Bella instead. I couldn’t take that loss. Maybe… I could wait a bit longer to bring up divorce? At least until after I got the car! I smiled and walked around the desk to hug him coyly. “Nothing, I just missed you and wanted to see you. About the car…” Lucas’s smile grew wider as he pulled me onto his lap. One hand gently massaged my waist. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure my wife gets it. But don’t I deserve a reward?” After two years of marriage, how could I not understand the implication? For the sake of my supercar, I’ll do whatever it takes! “I bought a bunny outfit. Come home early tonight, honey,” I purred. Lucas nodded and kissed me on the lips. “Sure, I’m looking forward to my little bunny.” 6 How utterly ridiculous! Two days later, I finally recovered my spirits. After repeated pestering from my best friend, I agreed to go shopping.

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On my 18th birthday, I received several mysterious text messages on my phone. The sender claimed to be me from ten years in the future. “This is not a prank,” one message read. “Go to the Computer Science department and find Liam Blackwood,” another instructed. “He may seem reserved and cold now, but in the years to come, he will be the one who loves you most in this world.” “Save him. Promise me you won’t let him die for you this time.” My name is Aria Winters, and I’m a freshman in college. I just celebrated my 18th birthday last week. It was probably the most surreal birthday I’ve ever had. On my birthday, my dad gave me a new phone. That night, after showering, I lay in bed, transferring the SIM card from my old phone to the new one and downloading some commonly used apps. As I was fiddling with those apps, my phone suddenly notified me of a new message. I glanced at it casually – it was a random sentence that said, “Go to the Computer Science department and find Liam Blackwood.” I had never even heard of Liam Blackwood. It must have been sent to the wrong person. I ignored it, but soon another message came through: “Hurry, you must find him before Christmas, or it will be too late!” The sender seemed so urgent, it might be something important. Out of kindness, I opened the message thread and replied, “I think you’ve got the wrong person.” The response came immediately: “No, I’m looking for you, Aria Winters.” I found this bizarre, so I checked the sender’s phone number. What I saw made my blood run cold, and I threw my phone away in shock. The sender of these messages had the same phone number as mine. Imagine this: it’s exactly midnight, and I’m texting… myself. Was this a malicious prank or a ghostly midnight message? I took a few deep breaths, mustered up my courage, picked up the phone, and with trembling fingers, typed: “Who are you?” Until dawn, there was no reply from the other end. I had almost forgotten about this incident, but tonight I stayed up late preparing for a club officer interview the next day. As soon as the clock struck midnight, my phone automatically popped up a message, still the same – “Go to the Computer Science department and find Liam Blackwood.” This was the second time. I wanted to get to the bottom of this. “Who are you? Is this a prank?” I asked. The reply I got was mind-boggling: “I am you, Aria from ten years in the future.” Are they kidding me? This is ridiculous. I reminded them: “April Fools’ Day was six months ago.” “I’m not lying to you. If you don’t believe me, I can prove it. On your end, it’s 2020, and you currently have a crush on Connor Sullivan, right?” My head buzzed. Connor Sullivan was a guy in our club, a year older than me. He was quite handsome, known as the gentle senior among the students. He had been particularly caring towards me, and I did have some feelings for him, but I had never told anyone about it. How did she know? As if knowing my thoughts, the other person said, “Don’t doubt it, I just know because I am you from ten years in the future.” A sudden thought struck me, and I asked her, “So, am I with Connor Sullivan ten years from now?” This time, the other side was silent for a moment. “Yes, you’re married.” Before I could feel embarrassed for a few seconds, my phone started buzzing with messages as if it was possessed: “But he has a small dick, he’s terrible in bed, and he’s a super mega scumbag. If you end up with him, he’ll spend your money, sleep with your friends, and even try to kill you!” I was dumbfounded. After digesting her information, I couldn’t help but feel devastated. What? Is my future really that miserable? Perhaps realizing the topic had gone off track, she quickly brought it back: “There’s no time left. Listen to me, you must go to the Computer Science department and find Liam Blackwood.” “Although he seems introverted and cold now, in the years to come, he will be the one who loves you most in this world.” “Promise me, save him. Don’t let him die for you this time.” I asked her who Liam Blackwood was, which class he was in, why she said he died for me, what happened, but the messages I sent seemed to sink into a bottomless sea. I looked at the time – well, it was 12:05 AM. It seemed to be the same time last time. It appears that this cross-time communication between us has a specific time limit. The next day, I dragged my tired body to the 8 AM class. It was the Department Head’s course, and everyone had fixed seats. You could tell at a glance who was late or absent. As soon as I entered the classroom, I noticed extra breakfast on my desk – soy milk, small wontons, and even a chocolate muffin. I asked my roommate, who had arrived just before me, “Who brought this?” She said, “I don’t know, it was already there when I came.” She lowered her voice and grinned at me, “Honestly, Aria, was it Connor Sullivan? I saw him buy you bubble tea before. Not bad, huh? You just posted on social media last night that you wanted to eat a chocolate muffin, and today he bought it for you. He must like you, right?” The chocolate muffin was only sold at a trendy store three miles from campus, and that store was so popular that you had to be quick to get their hot new products. If it were any other time, I would have been touched and given Connor some bonus points in my heart. However, because of last night’s text messages, now when I heard Connor Sullivan’s name, I couldn’t help but think of that sentence – “he has a small dick, he’s terrible in bed.” Help. Connor Sullivan’s image in my mind crumbled by half. Facing my roommate’s suggestive gaze, I quickly denied it: “No, we’re not in any kind of relationship.” At 3 PM, I attended the club officer interview on time. The interview went smoothly, and afterwards, Connor came to congratulate me and asked if I wanted to go watch a movie with him that evening. In the past, I might have happily agreed, but today, as soon as he came close, that phrase “small dick, terrible in bed” kept flashing in my mind. Heaven knows how much willpower it took to keep my gaze from drifting downwards. Connor took another step towards me: “I’ve already bought the tickets. It’s a mystery film, the kind you like.” I declined politely, maintaining a calm expression: “I have something to do today, sorry, Connor.” “Alright,” he looked a bit disappointed, “we’ll plan for next time then.” I breathed a sigh of relief, then remembered something. Liam Blackwood was also in the Computer Science department, right? Maybe Connor had heard of him. With a try-and-see attitude, I asked him about Liam Blackwood. He did know him: “He’s in Class 1, the most famous among this year’s freshmen. Why? Do you know him?” I shook my head and made up an excuse: “A friend of mine likes him.” “Aria, you should tell your friend to give up on that idea,” Connor’s expression turned serious. “Why? Does he have a girlfriend?” “No,” Connor frowned, “I heard he’s sick. Mental illness.” I heard some rumors about Liam Blackwood from Connor. Apparently, when he first entered college, he became quite popular due to his good looks and aloof attitude towards people. Connor’s position as the most popular guy in the department was almost threatened. But later, someone dug up his family history and posted it on the school forum. People’s attitudes towards him changed 180 degrees overnight. The reason was simple: he had a mentally ill father who was a murderer. When it happened, Liam was only five years old. He witnessed his frenzied father kill his mother with a knife, then walk towards him step by step. Fortunately, before the knife fell, his father came to his senses, but realizing what he had done, the tremendous fear and guilt made him drop the knife and flee. In the end, it was a neighbor returning from work who discovered something was wrong, opened the door to find a murder had occurred next door, and shakily called the police. When the police arrived, the body was lying in a pool of blood, already cold. The five-year-old boy was curled up in a corner, his body trembling uncontrollably, his gaze blank. After that, Liam’s father remained missing. The police couldn’t find his whereabouts. Liam only had a distant relative, but that family considered him a burden and sent him to an orphanage. The person who posted on the forum described it vividly, claiming to be Liam’s high school classmate who had personally witnessed Liam go berserk, pinning a much taller senior against the wall and beating him. The reason seemed to be that the senior had made a joke about Liam’s parents. Everyone said that his reckless, life-risking craziness must have been inherited from his father, and so rumors of Liam having a mental illness spread throughout their Computer Science department. I read all the posts about Liam on the forum. Far from being scared, I felt a bit sorry for him. … I must have been influenced by the text messages from these past few days. There was a photo of Liam on the forum, a candid shot taken by someone. In the photo, he was glaring at the camera, his eyes wild and cold. I stared at that photo again and again, conflicted all night, and decided to go find Liam and see the situation for myself. Finding Liam wasn’t difficult at all. I didn’t even need to ask anyone. Standing outside their classroom window and looking in, I could spot him at a glance among the sea of people. His aura was unique. At this age, college students often like to wear a few branded items, each one full of youthful energy. Liam was different. He sat alone in the last row, wearing the simplest white t-shirt, with black hair and black eyes, like a stagnant pool untouched by sunlight, out of place in this world. I compared this face with the photo on the forum and could confirm it was him. Perhaps my gaze was too intense, he suddenly looked in my direction. Our eyes met, his gaze sharp. Caught peeking, my heart skipped a beat, and under the influence of guilt, I reflexively crouched down, hiding under the window. Only after crouching did I realize how strange this looked. I wasn’t a peeping tom, why was I feeling guilty? As the bell rang, people poured out of the classroom. I stood on tiptoe looking for Liam. As expected, he was walking at the back of the crowd, carrying a shoulder bag, his expression quiet and indifferent. Because of the rumors, everyone’s attitude towards him was both wary and fearful. While others were in groups of three or five, there was no one around him. The sense of loneliness was palpable. I couldn’t help but call out to him: “Hey!” I ran up to him, took out my phone, “You’re Liam Blackwood, right? Hi, I’m Aria Winters from the Design department. Can I add you on SnapChat?” This was the first time in my life I had ever approached a boy on my own. While I was feeling nervous, Liam stopped and looked at me. I couldn’t tell if it was surprise or expectation in his voice: “You know me?” His voice was quite pleasant, very clean. To not seem too abrupt, I answered honestly: “I didn’t know you before, but I want to know you now. Is that okay?” Liam didn’t seem satisfied with my answer. He said, “No, it’s not.” Those eyes returned to their previous emotionless state, as if the expectation I saw in them earlier was just my imagination. He strode past me. I called his name, only to receive a cold response: “Don’t follow me.” Hello?? Don’t you know this is how you lose me? At midnight, the message from the future arrived on my phone right on time. It was still that same, unshakeable, almost like a death warrant: “Quickly go to the Computer Science department and find Liam Blackwood.” Thinking of what happened during the day, I replied with a depressed mood: “I went today. Are you sure you didn’t make a mistake? I feel like he doesn’t like me at all. He doesn’t even seem to know me.” In my depression, I also felt a bit wronged. I didn’t know where this sense of grievance came from. Was it because I had enthusiastically approached someone only to be coldly rejected? Or was it because it was Liam? That glance he gave me through the glass today left a deep impression. I think I might have… fallen for him at first sight. It took a full two minutes before a message came from the other side. “No mistake. I’ve read his diary. He carried out a secret love throughout his student years, but neither you nor I knew about his feelings.” A secret love that lasted throughout his student years. I searched through my memories but really couldn’t remember anyone named Liam Blackwood. I asked, “When exactly did Liam start liking me?” Surprisingly, my future self replied: “I don’t know either.” “His love… was too silent. I never noticed it.” “Anyway, you must be wary of Connor Sullivan. He’s a complete scumbag, guilty of both financial fraud and attempted murder. If it weren’t for Liam, Connor would have succeeded. My life was exchanged for Liam’s. That’s why I want to save him. I want him to live.” I promised my 28-year-old self that I would save Liam, and for this, I even made a comprehensive plan. First, of course, was to stay away from Connor Sullivan. My fondness for Connor came from his usual care for me, but I’m not stupid. Once I learned he was a scumbag, I would have bought a train ticket and fled overnight. Next was to find a way to get close to Liam. I got hold of their department’s class schedule from the school’s confession wall. On a morning when I didn’t have class, I walked into their classroom with two breakfast sets, brazenly sat down next to Liam. Liam seemed very uncomfortable with my arrival. From the moment I sat down, he curled up like a little hedgehog, his voice hard and cold: “What are you doing here?” He was quite cute like this. Writing about his secret love for me in his diary, but in reality, for some reason, he seemed to deliberately avoid me. It was a bit like those people online who say one thing but mean another. I handed him the bun and soy milk I had brought: “I brought you breakfast.” He clenched his jaw, stared at me for a while, then pushed it away: “I don’t want it.” But the way he looked at me just now clearly showed he wanted to accept it. What a contradictory person. I admit I had my own agenda. My 28-year-old self only said to save Liam’s life, to let him live. But knowing this, my 18-year-old self wanted to date him. We pushed and pulled over the breakfast several times, attracting the attention of classmates in front of us who couldn’t help but turn around to look. Their faces couldn’t hide their shock, as if surprised that someone would actually sit next to Liam and talk to him. As the bell for class rang, I simply grabbed Liam’s hand, put the breakfast in it, and softened my voice to say quietly: “Come on, skipping breakfast is bad for your health. I brought this specially for you. Just take it, okay?” I’m quite good at acting coy. Sure enough, Liam froze when I held his hand, reacting as if he had been electrocuted. This time he didn’t refuse, but he put the breakfast at the corner of his desk, seemingly with no intention of eating it. I sighed internally, thinking there would be more opportunities in the future. However, I had only come three times before Liam grabbed my arm and cornered me in the hallway. If I had to describe it, he was like a small beast whose territory had been invaded, bristling with all his spines to warn me: “What exactly do you want to do?” If it were someone else interrogating me like this, I would have been scared away long ago. But it was Liam, those dark eyes staring intently at me, beneath the surface of annoyance was an almost undisguisable confusion and fear. I didn’t understand, but I felt sorry for him, so my mouth moved faster than my brain: “I just kind of like you. Can’t you like me back a little?” Liam let go of my hand. The next second, he suddenly smiled. This was the first time I had seen him smile. It was very attractive, making me dizzy. If I liked Liam five points before, from this second on, I can guarantee this liking had shot up to seven points.

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The first time I went home with my boyfriend. When we walked into the living room of Jackson’s family estate, aside from a group of older people who I assumed were relatives, there was a woman sitting there… in a wedding dress. As soon as she saw Jackson, she stood up, her face flushed with a coy smile. “Honey, you’re back! Once you transfer the $50,000 to my account, we can go to the courthouse to get our marriage license.” Wait. What?! Jackson is getting married? And the bride isn’t me? I was furious and turned on my heel to leave. But Jackson grabbed me, panic plastered on his face. “Harper, don’t go!” He held on tight. My hand hurt. But more than anything, I was completely speechless. First relationship ever, and I end up with a guy like this? Seriously, my luck couldn’t be worse. I tried to pull his hand off. “Jackson Stone, let go. Don’t think I won’t slap you!” He wrapped his arms around me, almost as if he was afraid I’d run. “I don’t know her, Harper. You have to believe me.” His usual embrace—the one that used to make me feel safe—now felt like a mockery. But the panic on his face seemed real enough. The woman’s expression quickly shifted from shy to smug. “Who is she, honey?” she sneered, her finger pointed at me, dripping with jealousy. The way she looked at me—like I was some homewrecker—infuriated me. I yanked Jackson’s hair, forcing his head to tilt painfully to one side. “Let go of me, you scumbag, or I’ll rip all your hair out.” Jackson blinked in confusion, holding my waist tightly, refusing to let go. The other woman stared at him, her face full of sympathy. Then she lunged at me, claws out. “Let go of my husband!” I flinched. Crap, she’s going to scratch my face!

Luckily, Jackson pulled me back a few steps, just in time to avoid her attack. I angrily released the handful of Jackson’s hair I had been clutching. “Jackson, you have five minutes to explain.” He quickly shifted from hugging to holding my hand, nodding frantically, and pulled me toward an older couple sitting nearby. “Mom, Dad, what’s going on here? I called you and told you clearly, I’m bringing my girlfriend home for the first time. Could you take this seriously, please?” His parents looked confused, their eyes darting between me and the woman who had just called Jackson her husband. Finally, his father spoke. “Her name is Scarlett Rayner. Didn’t you meet her through Aunt Linda? You two were supposed to get married. We thought…” He hesitated. “She’s the girlfriend you were talking about.” Jackson looked like he was about to lose it. “I don’t even know her!” I raised an eyebrow, glancing around the room at all the bewildered faces. Scarlett started crying, tears streaming down her face. “How can you say that, honey? Aunt Linda introduced our families, and she said if I was happy, we could go straight to the courthouse! I even brought my marriage license papers!” She waved the documents in front of everyone. I was stunned. So was Jackson’s entire family. They looked at each other, bewildered. Jackson glared at his parents. “How did I not know about this blind date?” His mom looked uncomfortable. “You’re 25 and still single. I was getting worried, so I had Aunt Linda help by organizing your profile and photos. I just wanted her to find someone nice.” Jackson’s face was a mess of emotions, as colorful as a painter’s palette.

I scoffed. I felt like an outsider watching a trainwreck. Just as I was about to leave, Scarlett collapsed onto the floor, crying her eyes out. “Jackson Stone, are you trying to abandon me?” “All my relatives know we’re getting married. I’ve already sent out the invitations! I even quit my job just to come back here and marry you. We’ve discussed the wedding settlement. I’m ready to marry you!” Sobs punctuated every word, her voice desperate. I was disoriented. I’ve been with Jackson for three years, and we’ve never talked about marriage. Yet here we were, with some woman calling him her husband and demanding he take responsibility. Even though I could tell something was fishy, it didn’t stop the situation from stinging. Scarlett suddenly jumped up and pointed at me. “You, the other woman! Get out of my house. My husband only loves me. He’s always loved me, and we’re going to be together forever. You’re shameless, trying to steal him away.” Her absolute certainty left me stunned. I was about to yell back and storm off when Jackson stepped in front of me and started shouting at her. “Are you crazy? You quit your job? Sent out invitations? That has nothing to do with me!” “I don’t even know you.” “And if I’m going to get married, it’s going to be to Harper. Who do you think you are? Get out of my house!” I stared at his back, feeling a twinge of disappointment despite his defense of me.

No one shows up in a wedding dress without some kind of leverage. I poked Jackson in the back. “I’m leaving.” I tried to stay calm, but I couldn’t take this mess. I just wanted to get out of there. He spun around and grabbed me. “Harper, don’t go. You’re the only one for me.” Scarlett screeched and clawed at me again. “You homewrecking trash, get away from my husband!” I smirked, then kicked her. “Get lost.” She dramatically flopped onto the floor, moaning in fake pain. Now I was even more furious. That ridiculous gown of hers was so big I didn’t even land a proper kick. She’s totally faking it!

“You people are treating us so unfairly! Everyone, come out and see how we’re being treated!” An older woman—about sixty or so, dressed in a red floral-patterned dress—stormed out the door and sat herself right at the entrance of the estate, yelling. “In every corner of the country, when you marry, the man’s family pays the settlement, and the woman’s family provides the dowry! It’s tradition to make sure the couple starts off well.” “You could have said you wanted to give less, but pretending you don’t even know my Scarlett? How heartless can you be? We wouldn’t be at the point of talking about a wedding if you didn’t know her.” “You’re ruining my daughter’s reputation, Stone family. You should be ashamed.” “Why does my daughter deserve to be treated this way?” “Is it because this new woman you brought home has more money, and now you’re ditching my Scarlett? That little tramp must be seducing our son-in-law!” “Oh, Scarlett, what will you do now?” I stood inside, watching Scarlett’s mom wailing in the yard, slapping the ground without shedding a single tear. My head spun in disbelief. What kind of circus is this? Scarlett ran out and wrapped her arms around her mother, sobbing. “Mom, stop. It’s my fault for trusting the wrong person. If Jackson wants to be with someone else, let’s just call off the wedding.” The whole room watched them in stunned silence. The entire room stared in disbelief at the spectacle unfolding outside. I turned to Jackson, my mind racing. We worked together in Chicago. We weren’t living together, but we saw each other almost every day. How could he have gone on a blind date with Scarlett and made it this far without me knowing? I looked at him closely. His jaw was clenched tight, and the veins in his hand bulged as he held mine, though not painfully. His other hand was balled into a fist, the knuckles turning white from the tension. What on earth was he so angry about? Shouldn’t I be the one upset? I’m the one being treated like the “other woman” here!

Jackson took a deep breath, just about to speak when Scarlett’s mother shrieked, “I don’t care what you say, your family must give us the wedding settlement and take Scarlett to the courthouse for the license, or I’m calling the police!” Jackson’s mother paled and quickly tried to diffuse the situation. “No! No police, please! You’ll ruin my son’s reputation!” Without missing a beat, Scarlett’s mom stood up from the ground in a flash. “Fine. No cops then, but the $50,000 settlement stays. That’s the emotional damage compensation for my daughter.” “If you want to get married, take her to the courthouse. If not, then don’t. But she can live with him in the meantime. Let them have a trial marriage.” Jackson’s father, clutching his chest, looked like he was about to collapse. His mother rushed to him, trying to calm him down. “Honey, don’t get worked up. Your health can’t handle this!” I couldn’t help but smile bitterly. The whole family looked like they were about to explode. Suddenly, it all clicked: Jackson hadn’t done anything wrong, but somehow this madness had fallen into his lap. Jackson’s eyes were sharp as he glared at Scarlett and her mother, his voice low and cold. “You’d better leave my house, or I’ll be the one calling the cops.” Scarlett’s mother, defiant, spat back, “Fine, we’ll go, but your family made my daughter a joke. You’ll at least have to cover the wedding costs and pay her a year’s worth of lost wages.” I glanced at Jackson, watching for his reaction. If he agreed to pay, I would break up with him on the spot. There’s no way I’d stay with someone who lets themselves get blackmailed just to avoid drama. This wasn’t about the money. If he gave in, it meant he was admitting guilt, that he had led Scarlett on. There was a right way to handle this and a wrong way. I despised the idea of solving problems by throwing money at them. I needed Jackson to take a stand.

Without a word, Jackson pulled out his phone and dialed the police. Scarlett’s mother saw no one was giving in to her demands, so she threw herself on the ground again, screaming and kicking, her cries filling the air. The same nonsense again: Abandoned after an engagement. Cheap family refusing to pay the settlement. At this point, Aunt Linda appeared, looking embarrassed, and whispered an explanation to Jackson. “Scarlett’s mom dragged me here first thing this morning, insisting you two were engaged. She even quit her job to move back home.” I could feel the question marks swirling around my head. Jackson sent a long text message to someone, then turned to me. “I’ve got a friend looking into who this Scarlett Rayner really is.” Just then, the police arrived. Scarlett’s mom immediately lunged at one of the officers—Officer Amanda Fields—crying and wailing the same ridiculous story she’d been spinning all day. The senior officer, Sergeant Michael Gray, stepped in, his voice firm. “Let go.” Instantly, Scarlett’s mother released Officer Fields, like a mouse caught by a cat. After speaking with everyone involved, Sergeant Gray turned to Scarlett and sighed. “Marriage is a mutual decision. They don’t even know you, so showing up here demanding a wedding isn’t right. It’s best if you head home before this situation escalates further.” Scarlett’s face was drenched in tears, but her mother wasn’t about to let go that easily. “How are we the ones causing a scene? My daughter’s reputation has been dragged through the mud! Shouldn’t they at least pay for the emotional damage?” Jackson clenched his fists, the veins on his hand bulging as he raised his voice. “Say ‘compensation’ one more time, I dare you.” Scarlett’s mother screamed and charged toward us, her eyes wild, ready to attack.

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After getting accepted into Stanford University, my parents decided to reward me by buying a small house near the campus. My brother’s girlfriend, though, seems to think she has him wrapped around her finger and acts like she owns the place. She threw out all my stuff from the house and had the nerve to warn me: “Your brother is the only heir of the Sterling family, so I’m the lady of this house now. Stop hanging around here eating for free and be smart—pack up and leave!” I immediately recorded her little act on video and posted it in our Sterling Family Group Chat on WhatsApp, writing: “If this kind of trash gets into our family, consider me, Harper Sterling, a failure!” My name is Harper Sterling, and I have a fraternal twin brother, Ethan Sterling. Growing up, I was always the one being pampered by my parents, while Ethan was more like someone they picked up out of a dumpster. Take this instance as an example: I got accepted into Stanford University, which is about a 30-minute drive from home. Even though it’s not far, my parents went all out and bought me a small house near campus so I could have my own private space without worrying about noisy roommates. As it happens, Ethan also got accepted into Stanford. But for him, my parents said, “Boys are fine in dorms. No need for private space. No fuss.” Ethan practically begged me with tears in his eyes, and since I have a soft spot for him, I agreed to let him have a room in the house. Although they bought me the house, I still preferred living in the dorms with my friends, so I stayed on campus. My parents would only stay in the house for a few nights when they visited me and Ethan. Today, I got a delivery call saying my package had arrived and been left at the front door. That’s when I realized I had mistakenly put the house address instead of my dorm address. Since I didn’t have any afternoon classes, I decided to walk over and grab it. The house wasn’t far—just a 10-minute walk. Standing outside the front door, I figured since I was already there, I might as well stay the night and head back to campus tomorrow. I confidently punched in the entry code, but it was wrong. Not thinking much of it, I tried again. After three failed attempts, all showing incorrect, I knew something was off. I snapped a picture of the error message and sent it to the Sterling Family Group Chat. Before I could even type a message, Ethan called. “Is the lock broken or something? Why does it keep showing the wrong password?” I asked, frustrated. Ethan hesitated on the other end, sounding nervous. “Uh, sis, mom and dad aren’t visiting. Why are you home all of a sudden?” It was blazing hot outside, and I was getting cranky. “What’s with all the questions? What’s wrong with the lock? Did you change the password?” “Sis, don’t get upset! We’re just about to finish class. We’ll be there in a few minutes. Just wait a bit!” Clearly terrified of me losing my temper, Ethan hung up in a hurry. What’s the big deal? Couldn’t he have just told me the new password? Annoyed, I stood in the shade, waiting for Ethan. Fifteen minutes later, Ethan came rushing over, and I noticed a girl following behind him, walking at a leisurely pace. So that’s why he said “we.” He’s dating someone. The girl, Madison “Maddie” Cole, had flawless, fair skin and perfectly applied makeup. But as she walked over, she shot me an unfriendly look, as if I had interrupted her date and offended her. Sensing that I was on the verge of exploding, Ethan quickly handed me an ice-cold Coke. “Sis, this is Maddie. Maddie, my girlfriend. She’s been staying here for a few days.” I took the Coke, and it cooled me down a bit, but the second I realized my brother had his girlfriend staying at the house without even telling me, my anger reignited. Ethan, knowing my temper all too well, immediately added, “Maddie, this is my sister, Harper. She’s in the finance department at school.” Maddie clearly didn’t want to talk. It wasn’t until Ethan nudged her that she gave me a half-hearted nod as a greeting.

The atmosphere was incredibly awkward. Ethan broke the tension by punching in the new password and opening the door. The new code was clearly a birthdate. It wasn’t mine, Ethan’s, or our parents’. It had to be Maddie’s. The previous code had been set by me, but Maddie had apparently found it too complicated and had Ethan change it to her birthday. When Ethan explained this, I couldn’t help myself and punched him in the shoulder. This idiot gave the house code to someone outside the family, and not only that, he changed it to something she could remember? Ethan, sensing my irritation, resorted to his usual tactic—playing the pitiful little brother. Fine. I’ll let it go this time since Ethan seems to like her. After all, it was our first time meeting. Who knows if we’ll even see each other again? No need to make things too hostile. But as soon as I stepped into the living room, I was in complete shock. Can someone explain why everything was pink? I had hired an interior designer to create a sleek, minimalist look. Now, the walls were covered with tacky, country-style paintings and posters. Cheap, mismatched decorations hung everywhere, like something out of a bargain bin at a discount store. I swallowed my anger and walked inside. Ethan followed behind me but kept quiet. I glanced at the staircase and saw my books scattered all over the steps. The table had an empty cup of instant noodles on it, with one of my expensive hardcover books underneath it, being used as a coaster. What enraged me the most was that the upstairs suite—my room—had become their bedroom. The second floor had a shared bathroom and a master suite with a walk-in closet and private bathroom, which was originally mine. Now it was a complete mess, and they had replaced the bedding with a hideous, bright red set. Surveying the scene, I saw that my vanity, which had been lined with my collection of skincare products and makeup, was now nearly empty. “Where’s all my stuff?” I asked, pointing to the now-bare wall where my perfumes and lipsticks had once been neatly displayed. “What, did you eat my lipstick? Use my perfume for a bubble bath?” I stared at Ethan calmly, which only made him more scared. When I’m truly furious, I go quiet. When I was little, I had a pet rabbit. A clueless relative killed it and tricked me into eating it. I calmly ate a bite of the rabbit, then picked up a baseball bat and went to their house, smashing everything I could. For the next three months, I visited every month to smash something new until they finally moved away. Maddie, however, seemed completely unfazed by my fury, casually sitting in a rocking chair by the window, enjoying an avocado smoothie bowl. Ethan, terrified that I was about to explode, hurriedly promised he’d replace everything that had been lost or broken. That cooled me down slightly. I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and strolled over to Maddie, flashing her a forced smile. “Maddie, I’m a bit of a neat freak. I don’t like people touching my stuff.” Maddie wasn’t pleased by my words and shot back sarcastically, “Well, Harper, this is my boyfriend’s house. I can use whatever I want. The owner doesn’t mind, so why should you, the guest, care?”

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After five years of marriage, my wife’s childhood friend posted a property deed on his Facebook Feeds. He captioned it: “Thanks to my boss lady for transferring the house to me.” I stared in shock at the deed with my home address on it, and I commented with a simple “?” My wife, Seraphina “Sera” Jade, immediately called to scold me: “He’s a single dad; he’s so pitiful. I only transferred the house to help his daughter with school later; it doesn’t affect our living situation.” “How can you be so heartless, showing no sympathy at all?” On the other end, I could hear the sad complaints from her childhood friend, Jasper “Jazz” Caldwell. Half an hour later, he posted again, tagging me. This time, he flaunted a brand-new Luxury Mercedes-Benz. “Paid in full. As the saying goes, where a woman spends her money, that’s where her heart is.” I knew this was a gift from Sera to placate him. But this time, I decided I was going to divorce her. …… When Sera came home, I swallowed a capsule of medication with a slice of birthday cake. This was the medication I had to take after my gastric tumor removal. It was my birthday, and I had prepared a cake, waiting for Sera to return home, wanting to tell her that I had undergone surgery while she was away on business. I waited until 7 PM; she didn’t answer my calls or reply to my messages. The moment I commented on Jazz’s post about the property deed, Sera called me back, launching into a tirade. I tried to explain, but she hung up and blocked me. I was so furious that my stitched-up wound felt like it was tearing open again. Sera glanced at the medication and the cake on the dining table, frowning: “Whose birthday is it? Yours?” I silently put the medication away and tossed the cake in the trash, calmly saying, “Not mine, it’s for a friend.” She sighed with relief: “I remember your birthday is on September 28th; today is only the 8th.” Five years of marriage, and Sera had always mixed up my birthday. Ironically, she seemed to remember someone else’s birthday just fine. Sera sat next to me and handed me a small toy car: “Jazz asked me to give you this; he was scared by your sarcasm today, and you need to apologize to him.” The toy car had a Mercedes-Benz logo on it. It was probably a promotional item from the car purchase, with a noticeable grease stain on it. I replied flatly: “I don’t want it.” Sera frowned, displeased: “What are you being so proud about? He was scared and came to make amends, and you can’t even apologize to him?” Seeing that I wasn’t budging, Sera tried to pull me up to call Jazz. She yanked me up with such force that my injured leg bumped against the cold coffee table. That was the same leg Sera had burned a week ago. She had been walking out of the kitchen with a pot of scalding porridge, distractedly replying to Jazz’s messages, and had accidentally spilled it all over my right foot, burning the skin badly. Seeing blood seeping from my right foot again, Sera panicked: “I’ll take you to the hospital.” I didn’t refuse: “Okay.” As soon as I got into the car, the Bluetooth speaker came to life with Jazz’s soft, playful voice. “Welcome back, my boss lady! Work hard to earn more money for me to spend!” Sera’s expression shifted slightly: “Jazz left that in my car last time; I threw it out.” “No need.” I replied indifferently. The car quickly fell into silence. Sera looked at me, surprised: “Aren’t you angry?” I pursed my lips. I used to care about Jazz a lot. Now, I didn’t even care about Sera; how could I care about her little puppy? “Just drive; it’s getting late.” We only needed to make a U-turn and drive a mile straight to the hospital, but Sera’s phone rang. When she answered, a smile appeared on her face. I recognized Jazz’s voice as he sweet-talked her into taking him for a ride in the new Mercedes. “There’s a little urgency with Jazz; I’ll drop you off here, just cross the street, it’s only fifty meters.” Sera didn’t even want to turn around; she couldn’t wait to see Jazz. I glared at her coldly: “I can’t walk.” Sera’s expression turned cold: “Can’t you be less dramatic? You’re hurt, not disabled!” She opened the passenger door and forcefully dragged me out of the car, telling me to call her when I had my medicine sorted. The car sped away, splashing dirty water all over my injured foot. The sky started to drizzle lightly, leaving me soaked and looking a mess. Fifty meters felt like a marathon; after just a few steps, I was drenched in cold sweat. The wetness aggravated the pain from my freshly stitched abdomen, and my leg buckled as I collapsed onto the crosswalk. Numerous cars sped by, and if it weren’t for the kind security guard at the hospital helping me up, I might have been hit by one. Finally back from the hospital, I lay down, and Sera stormed in: “Didn’t I say to call me when you had your medicine sorted? I waited for you at the hospital entrance for a whole hour, and your phone was off the entire time!” I stared at her blankly.

I had been on an IV for two hours in the hospital, and when I came out, I didn’t see Sera’s car. I was feeling miserable and had no choice but to take a taxi home. My phone had only just died two minutes ago. In short, she hadn’t come to pick me up at all. When did Sera, who used to care for me meticulously, start to become distant and cold? “You blocked me; I couldn’t call you.” Sera paused, her anger slightly fading: “I knew you’d be hungry, so I brought you some late-night snacks—skinny rice porridge.” I looked at the bowl of porridge. It was just sprinkled with some scallions, hardly any rice or meat, more like leftovers from someone else’s meal. Half an hour ago, I had seen Jazz’s post. The picture showed Sera cooking porridge in the kitchen: “Who says there are no good women in the world? Not only did she take me for a midnight ride in her Mercedes, but when I was hungry, she also cooked me porridge. It smells amazing!” I stirred it self-deprecatingly, feeling a wave of nausea: “Throw it away; I don’t want it.” Sera’s expression darkened instantly as she glared at me coldly: “What’s wrong with you? I brought this especially for you, and you just want to throw it away?” “Am I wrong for being upset that I just transferred the house to Jazz today? It doesn’t mean you can’t live there. His child has a place to go to school now, and all I got was a thank you post on Facebook. You went and left your sarcastic comments; did I hold that against you?” My abdominal stitches were barely healed, and now my leg was re-injured; I felt utterly exhausted: “You misunderstood me; I was just surprised that his property deed had our address on it…” Sera interrupted impatiently: “Misunderstood? Jazz is right about you! You always fly off the handle over nothing, with no grace or tolerance. If I so much as talk to another man, you become paranoid! I think the issue lies with you!” If it were earlier, I might have argued back, trying to get her to understand the real me. Now I just stared at her coldly. Once she finished her hysterical rant, I slowly said: “Are you done? Could you please turn off the lights?” She shot me a dark look and slammed the door on her way out, leaving the lights on. Seconds later, the sound of another door slamming echoed from the living room. In the past, when she would sleep at Jazz’s place after a fight, I’d lie awake all night. Tonight, however, I fell asleep comfortably on my own. The next day, I contacted a friend for a lawyer and consulted about divorce proceedings. Since that door-slam, Sera had disappeared for three days. The next time I saw her was in a travel photo shared by her friend Felicity “Flick” Hart. In the picture, she and a few friends posed together, with Jazz standing beside Sera, both in matching outfits, Jazz’s youthful face beaming with joy. I quietly liked the photo. Sera, who had been MIA, called me back in an instant: “I’ll pick you up later to go to the beach and introduce you to my friends.” After a pause, she added: “Actually, I didn’t have to invite you; this is a reward for how well you’ve been behaving lately.” “Sure.” The divorce was already in motion; I didn’t want to stir things up with her. Sera came to pick me up as promised, but strangely, Jazz didn’t show up to cause a scene today. Once we reached the beach, Flick came over to greet me: “Last time was my gathering, sorry for not giving you a heads-up. I’ll punish myself with three drinks later.” Flick’s acknowledgment elevated my status in front of everyone. I offered a perfunctory smile: “Been busy with company matters recently.” “I heard you managed to persuade some elite talents to open a branch in Willow Springs; congratulations!” Flick continued to shower me with compliments. I smiled slightly: “That’s the plan, but it’s still uncertain.” As I spoke, Sera marched over, glaring at me: “You’re going to Willow Springs? Why didn’t you tell me? Did I permit you to go?” I turned my head, calmly gazing at her furious face. The atmosphere around us froze again. Sera was still loudly questioning me, while Flick could only awkwardly attempt to lighten the mood, suggesting we head to the barbecue. The server quickly set up the grill, and Sera sat beside me, a rare look of panic flashing across her pretty face: “I’ve already told Jazz that once his kid graduates from elementary school, we’ll transfer the house back.” “Don’t be upset; it’s my house, and I don’t have to explain it to you.” “Oh.” I nodded calmly. Before long, a familiar handsome figure walked toward us, and my smile froze. A girl I had never met but who was close to Flick and Sera jumped up, excitedly waving at Jazz: “Brother-in-law, brother-in-law, Sera’s here, hurry over!” In an instant, everyone around us gasped.

Flick kicked the girl, angrily scolding her for her lack of awareness. “I’m going to the restroom.” I slowly stood up, not wanting to explode in front of everyone, just wanting to keep some semblance of dignity between us. Sera glanced at me and then at Jazz, but she ultimately didn’t follow me. When I returned, everyone had eaten and sat down on the beach. Jazz and Sera were sitting close together, their postures intimate. I quietly found a spot to sit off to the side. Flick again tried to lighten the mood: “Alright, let’s play a game of Truth or Dare!” In the first round, Sera won, and Jazz lost. Jazz chose truth, and Sera let him off easy, asking him what he had been happy about lately. Jazz blinked and gazed at Sera affectionately: “I met a wonderful woman; in just one day, I have a house and a car. By the way, she even took me for a midnight ride in her new Mercedes-Benz to unwind.” After saying that, Jazz smirked at me triumphantly. Most people present knew exactly how Jazz had gotten that house and car, but everyone typically turned a blind eye, knowing yet saying nothing. However, Jazz bringing these matters to light changed everything. The atmosphere thickened again; even Flick felt a bit awkward. Noticing that I wasn’t getting angry, Flick forced herself to keep the ball rolling: “Alright, it’s time for the second round, and look, it’s our handsome Ethan’s turn.” When it was my turn, Jazz was the one to impose a penalty on me. “Truth,” I said flatly. Jazz approached me with a drink in hand: “Ethan, let’s play big, how about a dare?” I frowned, alarm bells ringing: “I choose truth.” “Let’s do a dare; I won’t make it hard on you. I heard Sera say you’re an excellent swimmer. Just swim a lap for us!” Jazz smirked as he looked at my abdomen. I firmly refused: “I’m not feeling well; I can’t swim.” Jazz looked at Sera with a pitiful gaze, and Sera, slightly annoyed, said: “You’re a level-two athlete; swimming is your specialty; how could you not swim? A few days ago, he apologized to you; now he’s trying to make amends. You showing him a swim will not cost you anything!” Sera insisted, ignoring my struggles, pushing me towards the beach along with Jazz. Jazz skillfully removed my jacket while taking a swig from a bottle of alcohol: “Ethan, I toast to you; now it’s your turn to shine.” With a drink in hand, I felt like I was being put on a spit to roast. I grew impatient: “I said I didn’t want to swim; forcing me while you drink isn’t fair. Why can’t I choose truth?” Jazz pouted, glancing at Sera. Sera’s expression darkened instantly. She slammed the bottle of alcohol into the sand: “What’s your problem? Swimming is your forte; he’s not making it hard on you; he’s even punishing himself with a drink! Why are you being so ungrateful?” Looking at Sera, the “damsel saving the hero,” and at Jazz, whose eyes were reddening, I replied coldly: “Did I force him to drink? I told him I didn’t want to swim, and he’s still pushing me; isn’t that the definition of being difficult?” I shot back three times, causing Jazz to burst into tears. Sera’s expression turned dark as she rolled up her pants. “Not swimming, huh? Fine, I’ll swim with you!” With everyone staring in shock, Sera grabbed my ear and forcefully pushed me into the water. The cold seeped into my wound, making my scalp tingle with chill; in the next moment, seawater rushed into my nose, and I choked violently. Sera still didn’t let go; she and Jazz held me down. I felt like I was suffocating, my eyes turning red from discomfort as tears and snot streamed down my face. When it felt like my lungs were about to explode, I desperately tried to push Sera away; finally, she let go. Unfortunately, a big wave crashed in just then, and as I tried to grab Sera’s pant leg, she kicked me away. I was swept into the sea, icy water engulfing me completely. After what felt like an eternity, I finally swam with all my strength to the shore, gasping for fresh air. Meanwhile, Sera was gently rubbing Jazz’s head, soothing him with patience and warmth: “Don’t be sad; I punished him.” “He deserves it; I’ll teach him a lesson later.” Then, she walked up to me, looking down from above: “Apologize to Jazz! You owe him a drink! Otherwise, we…” In the midst of everyone’s shocked gazes and Sera’s demanding eyes, I interrupted, my eyes reddening: “Sera, wait for my lawyer to contact you; we’re getting a divorce.” With that, Sera stared at me in disbelief, her dark eyes filled with shock. I felt weak as I took a few steps forward. When I reached the main road, everything went black, and I collapsed. Before losing consciousness, I heard someone nearby shouting: “Someone’s passed out!” “Call an ambulance! Oh my God, he’s bleeding a lot from his abdomen!”

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I was picking up Carter from Windsor Elementary when I ran into Lily Whitman’s mom. Just as I was about to greet her, Carter jumped out in front of me, blocking my way. “This is our nanny. You don’t need to talk to her!” Then he turned to me and shouted, “You’re embarrassing! Don’t come to school looking like that!” I was furious when I got home and immediately complained to Nathan, but instead of support, he snapped at me. “Well, if both of you think I’m such an embarrassment, I’ll just spend all my time and money on beauty treatments and new clothes. Let’s see how that goes.” And as for being the “free nanny”? Whoever wants the job can have it. The very first day I stopped doing everything, Carter’s clothes weren’t washed, his homework wasn’t done, and he was late to school. My little prince went from being the class favorite to looking like a scruffy kid from the wrong side of town. Nathan stormed at me, “You’re making excuses to go to work and not even taking care of our son? Vivian, how can you be so selfish?” I calmly replied, “6.” Both Nathan and Carter were about to lose it.

When we got home from school, I sat on the couch with a cold expression. I didn’t cook dinner, didn’t clean, didn’t wash a single piece of clothing. Carter, as usual, didn’t think he’d done anything wrong. He expected everything to continue like normal. “Mom, I’m hungry! Hurry up and make dinner!” he demanded. I shot him a look and said, “Don’t call me Mom. I’m not your mom.” Carter’s face flushed with anger. I had promised him burgers and fried chicken after school, but after his performance at the school gate, those plans were gone. Earlier, I’d seen Carter chatting up Lily, laughing his head off like nothing else mattered. Next to Lily was her mom, Sophia Whitman, looking effortlessly stylish. I walked over, intending to greet her, but the second Carter saw me, his face dropped. He jumped right in front of me and cut me off, loudly proclaiming, “This is our nanny. You don’t need to talk to her!” He turned and yelled at me again, “You look so embarrassing. Don’t come to school looking like that!” It was pickup time, and other parents were passing by, giving me curious looks. Sophia Whitman’s face was full of surprise as she glanced at me with concern, slightly raising her brows. I looked down at my faded clothes. Between taking care of the house and family, I hadn’t had time to dress up. My ungrateful little brat had the nerve to be ashamed of me? But I wasn’t going to take it lying down. I slapped some sense into him, hard. Carter’s face turned beet red. I mumbled an apology to Sophia and walked away without looking back. Carter, in a panic, came running after me, wailing, knowing I was furious. He probably thought I wasn’t going to take him for fried chicken anymore. As if! I wasn’t going to give him anything. He could have looked like fried chicken for all I cared. Once we got home, Carter locked himself in his room and gave me a dirty look. I looked around at the dirty laundry and messy living room and sank deep into thought. It’s been seven years since I became a full-time mom. I gave up my job for Carter. Every little thing—meals, laundry, school, health—was all on me. But today, the way he acted made me realize all my efforts were for nothing. Why had I sacrificed so much? When I refused to make him dinner, Carter lost it completely. He threw himself on the floor and started screaming. “I wasn’t wrong! You don’t even have a job. What’s the difference between you and a nanny? I’m telling Dad!” To my shock, Nathan frowned when he heard the story, and his eyes were full of disappointment when he looked at me. “Why are you making a big deal over what a kid says? You promised him fried chicken today. No wonder Carter’s upset!”

“Nathan, are you serious?!” I couldn’t believe it. “Your son has serious issues, and when I try to teach him a lesson, somehow it’s my fault?” Nathan’s face showed nothing but annoyance. “Carter’s just a kid. What does he know? But you’ve let him go hungry this long? That’s on you.” Carter looked smug, glancing at me, while he whined to Nathan about wanting fried chicken. Before the two of them could head out, I yelled, “If either of you walks out that door today, I’m done with this house!” The only response I got was the slam of the door and the sound of their laughter fading down the street. I collapsed on the couch, tears running down my face. Seven years of my life, all for nothing. Every day, I’d wake up early, cook, clean, take care of Carter, and do all the household chores. My workload wasn’t any less than Nathan’s. But now, neither Nathan nor Carter appreciated me. Well, if they think I’m so embarrassing, I’m done. I’ll spend my time and money on self-care and clothes. Let’s see who misses me then. After making up my mind, I tossed Nathan’s stuff into the guest room. There was no way I was sleeping next to that man for another minute. I called up Bianca and we made dinner plans. Nathan took Carter out for fried chicken, so I wasn’t going to hold back either. After dinner, Bianca and I hit Rivercrest Shopping Mall. I had years of missed self-care to make up for!

The newest skincare set? Bought. Trendy clothes and bags? Yes, please! Gym membership, spa package—got them both! Bianca watched me spend money like water, her eyes wide in disbelief. “Vivian, aren’t you worried Nathan’s going to lose it?” I admired my purchases with satisfaction. “Who cares? I’m spending my own savings. He has no say in it!” I posted a picture of my shopping haul on Instagram to celebrate this new chapter of my life, but then I saw that Nathan had already posted something first. He’d tagged me, too, with a snarky caption: “Took Carter out for fried chicken. He says I’m his favorite!” In the picture, they were smiling, faces pressed together, in front of a table full of junk food. Typical. I rolled my eyes.

Every time I tried to discipline Carter, Nathan would play the good guy. So, despite me spending every day taking care of Carter, it was Nathan who Carter adored. I gave the post a sarcastic like and went to grab drinks with Bianca. We spent the evening mingling with some charming guys who kept calling us “ladies” in that flirtatious tone that made me feel young again. Dancing in the club released all the stress I’d built up during the day. Carter might still be young and need guidance, but as his mom, I couldn’t just abandon him. I’d have to rethink how I raised him. When I got home at 11 p.m., I was ready to make some changes in our dynamic. But instead of being in bed, the house was still brightly lit. Carter was up, playing with his toys in the living room, way past his bedtime. I always made sure he was asleep by 8 p.m. for school the next day, but here it was, 11 o’clock, and he was acting like it was the middle of the day! Furious, I roared, “Carter Summers! Do you have any idea what time it is? You’ve got school tomorrow!” Normally, Carter would have jumped into bed the moment I raised my voice, but tonight he actually had the nerve to shout back. “You’re the one who doesn’t keep your promises! Why do I have to listen to you? You just sit around at home all day, living off Dad’s money. You’re pathetic!” I stood there, stunned. This was the same child I’d devoted seven years of my life to, and now he was lashing out at me like this? The first time he’d said something hurtful, I thought it was just his age. But now, he was doing it on purpose. He meant every word. Tears stung my eyes. I couldn’t believe I had given up my career, everything, for this ungrateful child. I stormed over and yanked him off the floor. “Say that again! Who taught you to speak to me like that? WHO?!” My voice was shaking with despair. Carter glared at me with nothing but hate in his eyes. I shivered. He started sobbing, but his words stayed harsh. “You don’t do anything! My friends’ moms aren’t like you!” As he screamed, he kicked and punched at me, putting every ounce of strength into each blow. At that moment, I realized—he truly despised me. Nathan, finally noticing the chaos, stormed into the room and shoved me aside. “Vivian, are you out of your mind? Look at what you’re doing to him! He’s terrified!” He turned to Carter, “Don’t just stand there. Wash Carter’s clothes, pick up his toys, and get him to bed.” Both Nathan and Carter acted like they had every right to boss me around. I stood up, grabbed the dirty laundry, and threw it right in their faces. “I told you earlier—if you walked out that door, I was done. So, whoever wants to deal with this, go ahead!” Carter froze, unsure of what to do. I slapped him hard across the face. “You don’t want me to take care of you? Fine. From now on, you’re not my son!” Carter burst into uncontrollable tears. Ignoring him, I kicked a toy out of the way and walked toward my bedroom, leaving Nathan and Carter behind, too stunned to react. From that moment on, I swore I’d never do another thing for either of them. Not one. And with that decision, I felt lighter. After a long hot shower, I finally relaxed in bed. Just as I was drifting off, Nathan stormed into the room, eyes blazing with anger. “What the hell is wrong with you today? Is this because Bianca’s been egging you on again? How many times have I told you that woman is no good! Those fancy things you bought are probably her influence too! Return them all tomorrow!”

I was on the verge of sleep, but his rant brought me fully awake. He wanted a fight? Fine, I’d give him one. “I’m spending my own money. I can buy whatever I want. Who do you think you are to control me? Bianca’s got real men in her life—men you could never measure up to. And now you’re jealous? Pathetic.” Nathan’s face twisted with anger. I knew exactly what to say to hit him where it hurt. As his wife, I knew him better than anyone. He’d always been envious of Bianca’s success, trying to cozy up to her crowd, but they didn’t want anything to do with him. “You’re insane,” Nathan spat. “Sleep it off, you’re clearly out of your mind.” He stormed out of the room. I laughed to myself. He probably thought his silent treatment would terrify me. Little did he know, I was relishing the freedom of being alone. The next morning, I was woken up by Carter’s cries. When I checked the clock, it was already 8 a.m. Well, well, someone’s late. I stretched luxuriously in bed, savoring the fact that I didn’t have to rush out of bed to make breakfast for anyone. Carter had tripped over his toys and split his forehead open. He lay on the floor, clutching his head, wailing, expecting someone to come to his rescue. Nathan came stumbling out of the master bedroom, looking disheveled and clearly panicked by the scene. Carter ran into his arms, bawling, “Dad, I’m late! I’m going to lose points for being late!” Nathan was just as unprepared, having clearly just woken up himself. He never thought I’d actually stop taking care of Carter. Seeing me standing there watching the scene, Nathan snapped. “Why are you just standing there?! Go grab a band-aid! Can’t you see Carter’s hurt?” I yawned and glanced at them. “Oh, he’s got a scar now? Too bad. Guess it’s gonna leave a mark.” 7 Carter was always so conscious of his appearance, and now with a gash on his forehead, he was crying like the world had ended. Nathan saw I wasn’t going to help, so he started looking for the band-aids himself. After practically tearing the house apart, he still couldn’t find one. Frustrated and red-faced, he shouted, “Where the hell are the band-aids? You hid them, didn’t you?” I rolled my eyes. “If they’re right in front of you and you can’t see them, that’s on you. Don’t go blaming me because you’re blind.” Nathan was furious, looking like he might charge at me. But he quickly realized now wasn’t the time because Carter was really late for school. Carter attended Maplewood Academy, a private school where the other kids were from well-off families, all used to following the rules. Being late was practically unheard of. To make matters worse, Lily Whitman—the girl Carter liked—was the class’s discipline monitor. If he was late, she’d surely look down on him. Nathan hurriedly dressed Carter, who stood there looking helpless. “Where are my clothes?” Nathan asked. I barely glanced at him. Before, I’d always have freshly washed and ironed clothes neatly laid out on the sofa for him. But now, remembering all those times I tried to be the “perfect wife” made me want to slap myself. “They’re on my face,” I said sarcastically, as I turned on the TV and started my morning yoga. Nathan shot me a death glare, grabbed some mismatched clothes from wherever he could find them, and with his hair a mess, dragged Carter out the door. Neither of them had eaten breakfast, and Carter’s complaints about being hungry echoed down the hall as they left. Meanwhile, I leisurely ordered myself a deluxe breakfast delivery, completed my yoga session, and enjoyed my meal at a slow pace. Just as I finished, my phone started ringing. It was Ms. Valerie Harper, Carter’s teacher. I let the phone ring, then hung up. Carter wasn’t my problem anymore. Why should I care about his school issues? Ms. Harper was persistent though. After several missed calls, she sent a text. “Mrs. Summers, what is going on at your house today? Carter not only arrived late, but he didn’t wear his uniform. He looked filthy, like he hadn’t washed his face! And what’s more, he didn’t even do his homework! Is this how you raise your child? You need to come to school immediately!” I was tempted to ignore her, but knowing she wouldn’t let it go, I replied:

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