Author: Momo Chan

I spent ten years trying to win over Tristan Wilder. The only way I could avoid being erased by the system was to marry him before he turned twenty-eight. But on our wedding day, the female officiant made a mistake. Instead of asking, “Do you take her to be your wife?” she asked, “Do you take me to be your wife?” The audience burst into laughter, but Tristan’s eyes turned red. Without a second thought, he took the officiant by the hand and left the wedding, saying, “I do.” That’s when I realized: Tristan had always been in love with someone else—his first love. And now, she’s back. Everything is over. 0″Do you take me to be your wife?” “I do.” When Tristan said those words, his eyes were red, and the entire room went dead silent. But he ignored everyone. He turned, took the hand of the woman in the white dress, who looked eerily like me, and walked out of the wedding. It was supposed to be my wedding. Yet, I stood there like a spectator, feeling the despair well up in my eyes. It’s all over. The system’s voice, tinged with regret, echoed in my head. “That’s Tristan’s first love. Ten years ago, she left to study abroad.” “And now she’s back.” “Your mission… it’s failed.” The wedding venue erupted into chaos: Guests whispering, the officiant trying to restore order, my friends furiously cursing under their breath… But to me, everything was eerily quiet. Yes. It was all over. My mission had failed, and I was going to die. I had spent the last ten years trying to win over Tristan Wilder. I was there for him when he had nothing. I watched him climb his way up to become the CEO of one of the biggest companies in the country. During the hard times, I stayed up late making him soup, nursed him back home after drunken business meetings, and shared meals of mac and cheese with him. I thought my companionship was the greatest act of love. I thought I had made my way into Tristan’s heart. But now, it all feels like a joke. A first love is always a first love. She didn’t need to do anything. All she had to do was stand there, and Tristan would follow her. I’m sorry, host, the system said, with a faint trace of sadness. “You only have three days left to stay in this world…” I took a deep breath, my chest tightening as though two heavy stones were crushing it. My friend held my hand and gently rubbed my back, trying to comfort me. “Lana, don’t worry about it. That jerk isn’t worth it…” I shook my head and sent the guests home. I declined the sympathy from family and friends, and left the wedding alone. Dressed in my pristine white wedding gown, I waved down a cab on the street. The driver looked at me in shock, but I held back my tears. “Take me to Gull Cove.” Gull Cove was where I first met Tristan, where we started his business together. There was an old, run-down apartment there—our first home and where all my fond memories were stored. I only had three days left. I wanted to die there. 0

The driver was silent for a long time, probably confused by the sight of a bride leaving a chapel alone. When we finally arrived at Gull Cove, I pulled out my phone to pay, but the driver waved it away. “No need. Miss, take it easy. As long as you’re still alive, there’s no obstacle you can’t overcome…” I didn’t cry when Tristan left with his first love. I didn’t cry under the weight of all the judgmental stares at the wedding. But the driver’s unexpected, kind words shattered my defenses. Once he left, I collapsed on the ground and cried, my heart aching with every sob. Yes, there’s no obstacle I can’t overcome. But I’m about to die. I walked along the muddy path at Gull Cove for a long time until I finally reached the familiar, run-down apartment building. Room 20

That’s where Tristan and I spent our hardest three years. Dragging my mud-stained wedding dress, I silently pulled out the key and twisted it in the rusty lock. It creaked, loudly, as the door finally opened. The door next to me swung open too. Mrs. Hattie Greene, the woman with her hair in rollers, peeked her head out, looking me up and down for a while. Suddenly, her eyes lit up as she asked, “Lana?” I forced a smile and nodded. Mrs. Greene rushed out, her apron still on, grabbing my hand with warmth. “Do you remember me?” “I’m Mrs. Greene! I lived next door when you two stayed here…” Of course, I remembered. Back then, Tristan and I would come home late from work. On nights we were too tired to cook, Mrs. Greene would pull us into her house to eat dinner with her. She was warm and kind, reminiscing about old times. “So, where’s that young man? You two must be married by now, right?” As she continued talking, her gaze finally landed on my pale face, tear-filled eyes, and the mud-streaked wedding gown. She stood there, stunned for a long moment, before gently patting my back. “It’s okay, dear. There are plenty of good men out there.” “Don’t worry, I’ll find someone better for you.” I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced back the tears that threatened to fall. After saying goodbye to Mrs. Greene, I stepped into the tiny apartment. This place, full of memories Tristan and I shared… The room was small. Just a double bed, a dust-covered table, and a worn-out panda plushie. This was everything Tristan had given me. I sat on the bed, running my fingers over the stuffed panda, and tears poured out. “Don’t cry, Lana. Tristan was wrong.” “Don’t cry, Lana. Tristan was wrong.” The broken, mechanical voice repeated, blinking its dim light. It was from my first birthday with Tristan. I had cooked noodles at home, waiting excitedly for him to come back. But he never showed up that night. When he finally returned the next afternoon, his eyes were red, and he looked completely worn out. Maybe out of guilt, he gave me the panda plushie. I was so happy back then. Tristan’s panda… I loved it so much. But later, I found out his first love’s name was Rachel Whitmore. The panda said “Lana,” but it wasn’t for me. It was for Rachel. That night wasn’t just my birthday. It was also Rachel’s birthday. He had spent the whole night running around, trying to ship the panda overseas to her. But because the plushie had a lithium battery inside, he couldn’t send it by air. So Tristan brought it back and threw it to me like trash. The panda was pitiful, discarded like garbage. And my love? Just as worthless. 03. That night, I lay on the bed where Tristan and I had once slept together, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. Seven years had passed, and the faint scent of lemon still lingered on the sheets—Tristan’s scent. I used to love that smell. But now, it only made me feel sick. Our text conversation was still open from the night before. “Babe, babe, we’re getting married tomorrow. I’m so nervous! What if I can’t sleep?” “Don’t worry, after the wedding, you’ll control the money, and I’ll do all the housework…” How laughable. Last night, Tristan was still anxious about our wedding. And today, he chose to leave me, walking out hand-in-hand with someone else. He didn’t even look back at me when he left. Of course, he never really saw me at all. I was just a stand-in for Rachel. Now that she’s back, he doesn’t need me anymore. Tristan was probably somewhere right now, happily walking in the moonlight with his first love. Pathetically, I stared at my phone. Through blurred tears, I saw a message pop up: “Lana Brooks! Where are you? So, we didn’t get married, big deal!” “Are you really going to disappear and throw a fit over this?” “Don’t you get it? I’ve never loved you!” “I transferred $300,000 to your account.” “Take the money and leave. If you want to die, then go ahead!” The pain in my heart stabbed like a knife. Tristan’s cold words were just as harsh as the day we first met. He couldn’t even muster an apology. $300,000? I had spent ten years helping him build his business, standing by his side as he went from a broke young man to a successful entrepreneur. What we earned together was far more than that. But… When you truly love someone, do you really care about money? Then go ahead and die… Those words clouded my mind like a dark storm. But Tristan, I’m really going to die soon. Tears welled up again, but I swallowed them down. I hovered over the keyboard, trying to think of something to say. But in the end, I had nothing left. With a final breath, I clicked the “delete contact” button. Goodbye, Tristan. The Tristan I’ve loved for the last ten years. 0

The night had grown late. A cold wind blew in through the poorly sealed window, chilling me to the bone. Ten years ago, when Tristan and I lived here, the window was always like this—never fully closed. Every night, the room would grow cold, almost unbearably so. Back then, Tristan would hold me close, his body pressed against mine, sharing his warmth with me. Those winters were harsh, but with Tristan by my side, they always felt like spring—bright, warm, and full of promise. Now, lying alone in this bed, all I feel is the biting cold. A dull, relentless ache spread through my chest. I lay there, staring blankly into the darkness. Maybe I’ll just die here like this. By the time my body turns cold and rigid, Tristan will be in bed with his first love, whispering sweet nothings in her ear, just like he used to do with me. The phone on the nightstand buzzed suddenly, pulling me from my thoughts. I picked it up, and a friend request appeared on the screen. It wasn’t from Tristan. The request was from a person with a name that made my heart sink: Rachel Whitmore. Rachel Whitmore… Tristan’s first love, the “Lana” that the panda plush had referred to all along. The woman who had truly won Tristan’s heart. I accepted the request, my curiosity getting the best of me, and immediately went to look through her posts. I couldn’t help but wonder. Why? Why did this woman, who resembled me in so many ways, deserve Tristan’s entire heart without lifting a finger? Why had I given everything, only to end up with nothing? Why did I have to pay with my life? What made her so much better than me? Her most recent post was a nine-picture collage. In every photo, Tristan was smiling, looking at Rachel with a tenderness that I’d never seen before. His grip on her hand was tight, as if he feared losing her again. And to top it off, Tristan was wearing the same suit he had worn to our wedding. So, the moment he left me at the altar, he rushed to her, embracing his first love and taking these pictures. They looked so happy. As if I had never existed at all. The caption that accompanied the photos was like a knife dipped in poison, stabbing deep into my heart. “After ten years, you’re still you, and I’m still me. (Oh, by the way, we’re getting married in three days~)” Three days? I let out a bitter laugh. Three days was when my mission would fail, and I’d be erased by the system. It was also when Tristan would marry Rachel Whitmore. The system’s voice suddenly echoed in my head. “Disgusting…” Even the system sounded angry. I shook my head. The system continued, its tone softening. “Lana Brooks, I can see it. You’ve done everything you could over these ten years.” “I’ll give you a choice—choose how you want to die…” Choose how I want to die? I sighed. Since I was going to die anyway, it didn’t matter how it happened. The phone buzzed again. It was a message from Rachel Whitmore. She sent me an address. “We’re getting married in three days. I hope you’ll come.” Staring at those words, an idea started to form in my mind.

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The next time I saw Ryan Brooks, I was working at Club Renaissance, the most popular nightclub in the city. Dressed in a revealing bunny costume, tray in hand, I let the greedy eyes of the men linger on my legs as I passed by. A drunk customer bumped into me, knocking the tray from my hand, and the champagne crashed to the floor. The man was overweight, and with one slap, he struck me across the face. “You stupid girl! Do you even know how much these shoes cost?” My face stung, and my lips swelled almost immediately. I forced my aching mouth to move as I knelt down to wipe his shoes with my palm. The man seemed pleased, crouching down to grab my chin. “Not bad. How about coming with me tonight?” I smiled slightly, shaking my head. The alcohol made him bolder. Furious at my refusal, he kicked me hard in the stomach. He raised the bottle, aiming to strike me, but a tall figure stopped him. I looked up, and even after three years, I recognized him instantly—Ryan Brooks, the man I had dreamed of day and night. I was taken to a long black Lincoln limousine. Smooth piano music played, and I curled up quietly in the corner. Ryan poured himself a glass of whiskey and casually asked, “With ice?” I hesitated, nervous under his gaze. Seeing he wasn’t joking, I nodded. I sipped my champagne slowly from the crystal glass. Three years had passed, and Ryan had changed so much. The youthful boy I once knew had transformed into a man who carried himself like a king—powerful, regal, untouchable. His sculpted face, sharp features, and thin lips paired with his dark, intense eyes. Even when he lowered his gaze, you could see his long, thick eyelashes. He undid the buttons of his tailored suit, resting his elbows on his knees, and looked at me with a calm expression. “Why did you end up working as a hostess?” My face flushed, and I felt embarrassed as I tried to explain. “I’m not a hostess, I’m just a club girl…” He raised an eyebrow, his eyes filled with a mocking smile. “Is there a difference?” Of course… there wasn’t. Even though I was only making money carrying trays, in everyone else’s eyes, I was just another trashy hostess. “For your bedridden grandmother? Or was it for that little bit of tuition you needed?” Ryan’s tone was light, dripping with mockery, making me squirm in my seat. “Nina Morgan, if you agree to be my mistress, I’ll give you everything you want.” His voice was soft, but the words hit me like a bomb. I looked up at him. “Shouldn’t I be your girlfriend?” He finished his whiskey, tilting his head to look at me. “Girlfriend? Do you think you deserve that?” And just like that, I became Ryan Brooks’ mistress. He had good habits, never seeing other women, always keeping himself clean. That’s probably why I managed to stay in this role for ten long years. From the intensity of our nights together, I knew I was the only mistress he had. It sounded ridiculous, but it gave me some peace. The Morgans and the Brooks families were close since I was born, and Ryan and I were childhood sweethearts. I didn’t have any siblings, so I clung to him. We were in love with each other, even though he was always cold and distant. Still, he spoiled me endlessly. In the spring, we’d fly kites. In the summer, we’d watch the flowers bloom by the lake. In autumn, we’d walk under the tall sycamore trees, and in winter, we’d roast marshmallows at the cottage. When my parents fought, he comforted me. When I forgot my holiday homework, he stayed up all night helping me finish it. We promised to attend the same school. He would propose to me, become my lifelong partner, and make me the happiest woman in the world. But everything stopped that day. Ryan and I had gone back to my house after school, just like we always did, when we got the call from the police. My mom and Ryan’s dad had left suicide notes before driving off a cliff into the sea.

By the time we got to the scene, a crane was pulling the car out of the water. My mom and Ryan’s dad were lying on the beach, their bodies bloated from the water and starting to smell in the summer heat. I don’t remember how much I cried that day. All I know is that on the way to identify the bodies, Ryan’s mom was in a car accident. In just one day, he lost both his parents. He grabbed me by the neck, his face streaked with tears, but he smiled bitterly. “Nina, I don’t have a home anymore. What should I do?” I didn’t know how to comfort him, so I just hugged him and cried. Before he left, he looked at me with empty eyes. “Nina, I hate you.” After that, I never saw Ryan Brooks again. I heard that after his parents’ deaths, his uncle took over the family fortune. I tried looking for him many times, but he refused to meet me. Before long, I heard he had gone abroad to study, with the help of family friends his parents had before they died. I didn’t have it easy, either. My mom had barely died when my dad brought his mistress into the house. That’s when I found out that not only had my dad been seeing someone behind my mom’s back, but that he also had a daughter about my age. Now I had to call my dad’s mistress “Mom” and her daughter my “sister.” Speaking of that “sister,” I owe my job at the nightclub to her. Since Chloe Morgan arrived, my life had spiraled downward. I had no allowance, and my dad kicked me out to live in an old shed in the outskirts of town with my sick grandmother. I had to fend for myself, or I would’ve starved to death. One day, I saw a black Bentley pull up outside. Ryan Brooks was back. I took off my bathrobe, revealing the champagne-colored slip underneath. Ryan was the one keeping me alive. If it weren’t for his help, my grandmother wouldn’t have been in the hospital. He was unpredictable. I always had to be on guard around him. If I made the slightest mistake, I wouldn’t get any sleep that night. When I got downstairs, the butler was already holding the door for him. I rushed to greet him with slippers and a basin of warm water for his feet. Ryan leaned back on the couch, watching me intently. His gaze made my skin crawl, and I hesitantly asked, “You’re home early today. Tired? Should I make the bed for you?” He didn’t say anything, just handed me a red velvet box. “I saw this in the store window. It’s beautiful. I thought you’d like it.” I stared at the box, swallowing hard. “Is it a bracelet?” He shook his head, his eyes darkening with something more menacing. Fear ran cold through me, draining the color from my face. “Then it must be a necklace. I love necklaces. Thank you.” I reached for it, but he suddenly opened the box and wrapped the necklace tightly around my throat. I hadn’t expected it, and the chain nearly cut off my air supply. I struggled desperately to breathe. His breath was hot against my ear, and just when I thought I would die, he released his grip and fastened the necklace around my neck. “Pure ruby red. If I had squeezed a little harder, the blood from your veins would’ve been the same color, don’t you think?” I clutched the cold gemstone at my chest, gasping for air. It had been ten years, and he had never stopped finding ways to torture me—letting me experience death up close. And every time, it was always suffocation. I knew deep down, he wanted me to relive the shame and horror of my mother and his father’s deaths, to never forget the humiliation of our past. When the night was finally over, I went upstairs to take a shower. Ryan was a clean freak, so I had to scrub myself thoroughly, inside and out. When I got out of the bathroom, he was gone. After searching the house, I found the light on in the study. Good. He had work to do. That meant I could finally get some sleep. I turned around, only to bump into his broad chest. The familiar smell of cigarettes washed over me, and I almost fell to my knees in fear. Ryan stood there holding a cup of coffee, glaring down at me. He hung up the phone he was holding, but I still heard the sweet, sugary voice of the woman on the other end.

“What are you doing?” My shoulders trembled, and I lowered my head. “I’m going to sleep,” I murmured. Ryan Brooks gave a soft smile and pulled me into the bedroom. Tonight, he was unusually gentle. I let myself get lost in the moment, pretending, for once, that we were a real couple, entangled in passion through the night. When we were done, I got up and began dressing. It was his rule—I wasn’t allowed to stay the night in his room. He said it was because he found it “dirty.” He leaned on his hand, watching me with an amused expression. Casually, he tossed a card toward me. I glanced at it, confused. “I already have a limitless card—you gave it to me, remember?” Ryan smiled, the kind of smile that made him look like a cunning fox. “Tomorrow’s your mother’s death anniversary. Why don’t you buy some ‘paper money’ for her?” His next words cut deep. “Better take a little extra to keep her mouth shut down there. Otherwise, the other lost souls might mock her, calling her a cheap whore who seduced a married man.” I was furious. Ryan always knew exactly where to strike, never missing a chance to twist the knife. He hated when anyone brought up the past, and so did I. “Ryan, can’t you have just a bit of decency?” I spat out. He didn’t care about my anger. “Decency? Does a woman who broke up someone’s family deserve decency?” Tears welled up in my eyes, and I glared at him, wishing my gaze could burn a hole right through him. He got up, grabbing my neck. His muscles flexed, and for a moment, it felt like he could snap my neck with just a little more pressure. “Are you going to cry now? Poor little thing. A whore raised by a whore. You’ve already sold yourself; why not go all the way? What’s the point of pretending to have morals?” “If you make your benefactor mad and lose your chance to make money, your mom might curse you for being bad at your job.” Blinded by rage, I slapped him across the face. “This isn’t my fault, Ryan! Why are you treating me like this?” He tilted his head, cold light flashing in his eyes. The oppressive silence suffocated me. Just as I was about to run, he grabbed my waist and threw me onto the bed. That night, I endured unspeakable torment. My cries echoed through the bedroom until the early morning. By the time the light crept through the windows, Ryan had already left. I dragged my exhausted body downstairs, where the maids were preparing breakfast. Seeing my disheveled appearance, they all kept their distance, avoiding eye contact. The events of last night must’ve been heard by everyone. “Where’s Ryan?” My voice was hoarse as I asked. “Miss Riley has returned from abroad. Mr. Brooks went to pick her up,” one of the maids said, hastily setting down the breakfast and practically fleeing the room. I sat there, stirring the bowl of porridge absentmindedly. Riley Carter, heiress of the Carter Group, was the one who funded Ryan’s education abroad after his parents’ death. I’d only met Riley once when I was very young. It was at Ryan’s birthday party, and I still remember the proud way he introduced her, saying that I would be his future wife. I didn’t have much to do with Riley. Frankly, I didn’t care to know more about her. The weather was beautiful today, and I felt the need to get out. The driver dropped me off at the street corner, where I bought a bouquet of white chrysanthemums and took a taxi to the cemetery. The cemetery was old and overgrown with weeds, looking like it hadn’t been tended in years. I placed the flowers on my mother’s grave and started pulling out the surrounding weeds. My mother lay peacefully beneath the earth, while her picture on the tombstone had already faded with time. But even in the photograph, her gentle eyes smiled softly. I never understood what drew my mother to Ryan’s father or what kind of love story they had. I only knew that their tragic affair had dragged Ryan and me into hell. I leaned against the tombstone, gazing at the sky. The blue was so pure, dotted with fluffy white clouds, and for a moment, I felt lighter, as if I could breathe again. But the sudden ringing of my phone interrupted my thoughts. I fumbled for my phone, seeing the familiar number. My heart clenched. “Hello?” I answered, clutching the phone tightly, but there was silence on the other end. Swallowing hard, I spoke again, “What made you call? Don’t you have a meeting today?” Still no response. I knew this was Ryan sulking. I didn’t dare say more, waiting quietly. After a moment, I heard him take a sip of something, his tone growing lazy. “You’re out?” “Yes, just shopping,” I lied, my hands and feet tingling with fear. I had lied to him many times before, but I could never tell if he believed me or if he was playing along. All I knew was that if he ever found out, I’d be in serious trouble. Then came a low chuckle from the other end of the line. “Nina, you’re cold-blooded. Shopping on your mother’s death anniversary? What a devoted daughter you are.” I bit my lip, letting him ridicule me. I knew that the only reason he had called was to throw salt in the wound, just because of today’s significance. It had been like this for ten years. When he was done mocking me, he asked, “Did you buy anything? Something for me, perhaps?” Cold sweat trickled down my back. “I haven’t found anything yet. What would you like?” He laughed again. “Even though it’s your mom’s death anniversary, you wouldn’t want your benefactor to be tainted by bad luck, would you? Dead people aren’t worth as much as the living.” I swallowed my tears, pretending to be indifferent. “I understand.” “Come home later. I’ll pick you up tonight.” And with that, he hung up. That house. It was the last place I wanted to go, especially on a day like today. Going back to the Morgan Family Estate only meant more disdain, but I couldn’t disobey Ryan’s orders.

I left the cemetery and headed to the nearest mall. I casually picked out a designer watch, making sure to remind the sales associate that I wanted the latest model. Ryan had given me a black card with no spending limit. I could swipe it as much as I wanted. I had thought about buying a house and running away with my grandmother, but Ryan would be notified of every transaction. Plus, all the medical expenses for my grandmother were handled by his assistant. I couldn’t make a move without risking everything. If he ever found out I planned to escape, I’d be doomed. The watch was expensive, but I paid for it with my own card. I also picked up some groceries and rushed over to the estate. It was just about dinnertime at the house. The housekeeper looked awkward when she saw me, then handed me a pair of disposable slippers. I didn’t care much about the cold reception and headed into the living room with the gifts I’d brought. Diane Morgan, my stepmother, was sitting on the couch, painting her nails and watching TV. She muttered, “That old housekeeper must be losing her mind, letting any stray cat or dog in here. Doesn’t she worry about catching some disease?” Then she noticed me and flashed a fake smile, holding her coffee cup up as if to toast me. “Well, Nina’s here. Have a seat.” I nodded and deliberately placed the gifts in the most visible corner, making it clear I wasn’t here to freeload. She glanced at the gifts, her expression full of disdain. “Next time, don’t bother wasting money like that. Your dad and I don’t eat knock-offs.” Ignoring her insults, I moved to sit down, but she suddenly shrieked, her voice shrill and mocking. “Where’s the housekeeper? Get over here! The couch is contaminated by someone who’s been on the streets!” I froze mid-squat as the housekeeper rushed over to cover the couch with several layers of plastic wrap beneath me. I decided not to sit after all, standing there instead, watching them. Just then, Chloe Morgan came downstairs, and her face immediately soured when she saw me. “Oh, no wonder it stinks in here. The plague has arrived,” Chloe sneered as she pushed past me and cuddled up next to Diane. “Mom, she smells awful. You should kick her out!” Diane caressed Chloe’s flawless skin like she was a precious gem, her expression gentle and loving, but her words were laced with venom. “What can I do, sweetie? The girl’s got legs of her own. I can’t stop her from coming in here to beg for our money.” Chloe pouted, picking a grape from the fruit bowl. That’s when I noticed the diamond bracelet on her wrist—my mother’s bracelet. It wasn’t just the bracelet. My mother had owned a lot of jewelry, all of it passed down from my grandmother as part of her dowry. But after my mother’s death, the estate had been absorbed into my dad’s possessions. Furious, I lunged forward, grabbing Chloe’s wrist to rip the bracelet off. She slapped me across the face. “What are you, crazy? Do you want me to have you arrested for robbery?” I wasn’t going to take it anymore. I yanked her up from the couch and slapped her across the face—twice. The loud smacks echoed through the room. Chloe had always been pampered, like a delicate flower kept safely in a greenhouse. Her skin wasn’t used to the rough treatment I endured every day. Her lips quickly swelled from the blows. “This is my mother’s dowry. What gives you the right to take it?” Chloe had clearly never expected me to actually hit her. She collapsed on the floor, screaming and crying. I took the opportunity to yank the bracelet off her wrist. Seeing her precious daughter in distress, Diane rolled up her sleeves and rushed at me, grabbing a handful of my hair. My mother had been a lady of grace and refinement, but Diane and Chloe were different. Despite living in luxury for years, their true nature showed when provoked. Diane clawed at my hair, screaming every vulgar insult she could muster, dragging my family’s name through the dirt. The words were filthy, words I wouldn’t repeat. But I wasn’t about to let her walk all over me. If acting crazy meant survival, I could play that game, too. I bit down hard on her wrist, making her howl in pain. Chloe jumped in to help her mother, but I kicked her away with a hard shove. Diane had wormed her way into my parents’ marriage, and it didn’t take long after my mom’s death for her to move in like she owned the place. She even kicked my grandmother and me out of the family home. I had to juggle school and work just to support us, and every so often, Diane and Chloe would show up to harass us. I’ll never forget the night it was pouring rain. My grandmother had a heart attack, and Diane threw us out of the storage shed where we lived. I knelt outside in the rain, begging for mercy, but Chloe had someone tear the roof off the shed. Everything I owned—my furniture, even my college acceptance letter—was soaked and ruined. Chloe caught a cold after that, and my dad came to the hospital just to beat me, then cut off my grandmother’s access to life-saving medication. Suddenly, I understood Ryan’s hatred toward me. After all, when his family’s fortune was taken from him, he was left at the mercy of others. He must’ve suffered the way I did. I could hate my dad, Diane, and Chloe, but who could Ryan hate, if not me? As Diane continued to wail, she suddenly collapsed, clutching her chest, gasping for breath. She looked pitiful, tears streaming down her face. I hadn’t even processed what was happening when I felt a strong hand grab the back of my head. In one swift motion, I was hurled across the room. I crashed into the wine cabinet, sending crystal glasses tumbling down. One of the shards sliced a deep gash across my hand, blood dripping onto the floor. “Calm down, Diane. She’s still a child,” I heard a familiar voice say. It was my father, Richard Morgan, the man who had abandoned me. “Dad, it’s my fault! I made her mad!” Chloe cried, rushing into his arms, tears and snot covering her face. “I just wanted to give my bracelet to her, but I guess her taste is too high for cheap things like this.” I couldn’t take it anymore. I shoved the bracelet toward my father, fury burning in my chest. “This was my mother’s dowry. What right does anyone have to take it from me?” Richard Morgan looked down at me with cold indifference. “When your mother married into the Morgan family, her things became the family’s property.” “Considering what she did, do you really think you have a claim to it? You ungrateful little brat. Do I need to remind you of your place?” Tears threatened to spill, but I held them back. “You have another child now. So who’s really at fault—my mother or you?” As expected, another slap came down on my face, so hard it made my teeth rattle. I staggered back, barely managing to stay upright, when I felt a pair of strong hands steadying me. I turned, and there stood Ryan, his face impassive as ever. He addressed my father with a calm, detached voice. “Apologies, Mr. Morgan. I’m here to take Nina home.” Ryan let go of me, and the moment he appeared, the tension in the room thickened. Mr. Morgan’s eyes narrowed, and Chloe stopped crying, her face lighting up. She hurried toward Ryan, throwing herself into his arms. “Ryan, thank God you’re here! My sister’s gone crazy! She really scared me.” I stood there, frozen. I had no idea what to say, what kind of expression to wear. It felt like my world had tilted, leaving me standing on unsteady ground.

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I woke up in the middle of the night, parched. As I stumbled to the kitchen for water, I heard muffled sounds coming from the guest room. Thinking it was our nanny Rachel feeling unwell, I was about to knock when I heard my husband Jack’s voice mingling with Rachel’s sultry moans. As an adult, I knew exactly what was happening behind that door. The realization sent chills down my spine. My mind went blank. I couldn’t tell if I was more angry or shocked. My legs gave out, and I collapsed to the floor, too weak to even stand. Rachel was the nanny my mother-in-law had brought in. I had just given birth to our son and was resting. Initially, I wanted to hire a nutritionist, but when my mother-in-law saw the cost, she insisted on finding a reliable nanny herself. I had wanted to refuse, but seeing her enthusiastic face, I swallowed my objections. The day after I was discharged from the hospital, my mother-in-law brought Rachel. When she first entered our home, Rachel wore dark linen pants and a faded short-sleeved shirt. Her complexion was sallow, and her hair was tied back in a ponytail. When she saw me, she gave an awkward smile, nervously smoothing her pants. She hid behind my mother-in-law, her eyes darting around curiously. She was so young. Could someone like her really be a nanny? I felt doubtful. I pulled my mother-in-law aside and whispered, “Isn’t this nanny too young?” My mother-in-law laughed and patted my hand. “Emma, dear, don’t let Rachel’s youth fool you. She’s excellent with children.” She glanced at Rachel, who immediately nodded and approached me. “Ma’am, I come from a big family. I have two younger brothers and a sister, and I raised them all,” Rachel said with a nervous laugh, puffing out her chest. “I’m strong and capable. You can trust me with your child.” I looked at her face, searching for any sign of deceit, but found only sincerity. I hesitated, but my mother-in-law made the decision for me. “It’s settled, Emma. Rachel will stay for now. If you’re not satisfied, we can always let her go. Okay?” Hearing this, I couldn’t bring myself to send her away. And so, Rachel stayed. I have to admit, Rachel did well in her first week. She took care of all the household chores, big and small, with impressive efficiency. At first, I wasn’t satisfied with her cooking, finding it too oily and greasy. But when she noticed I wasn’t eating much, she quickly learned to make a few vegetarian dishes. Even with the baby, she was extremely careful and attentive. Whenever I saw her cradling my baby, soothing him, I felt quite pleased. I even suggested to Jack that we should give Rachel a raise. Jack just smiled and said it wasn’t necessary yet. Little did I know that my kindness would be repaid with Rachel’s ambition. I was truly blind, nurturing a wolf by my side. In the guest room, Rachel’s cries grew louder. Startled, I pushed myself up from the floor. Leaning against the guest room door, I heard Jack let out a final satisfied groan. The two of them panted heavily inside. Through the crack in the door, I saw Jack holding Rachel in his arms, both of them naked on the bed. Rachel’s fingers were tracing circles on Jack’s chest. “Honey, when are you going to divorce Emma? I can’t wait much longer,” Rachel whined. Jack grasped Rachel’s hand, bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss before replying, “Baby, don’t rush. Our good times are just beginning. Once I’ve swindled all that yellow-faced bitch’s money, I’ll marry you. How’s that sound?” I froze, my scalp tingling with shock. Rachel continued to pester him, seemingly impatient. It turned out that Rachel and Jack had been engaged back in their hometown. Everyone in the village knew about their relationship. Only I had been foolishly kept in the dark. I remembered the first time I went back to Jack’s hometown to meet his parents. The entire village had gathered at the entrance to welcome us. When they saw me, their faces twisted into strange smiles that made my skin crawl. I clutched Jack’s hand nervously and asked, “Why is everyone looking at me like that?” I recall Jack casually replying, “They’re just jealous of me for finding a city girl as a wife.” He walked past the villagers, chest puffed out proudly. I overheard people whispering behind me, “That bastard Jack really pulled it off, huh? He actually managed to snag a city girl.” “Hah, it’s all thanks to that pretty face of his. What else does he have going for him?” “What about his girl back home?” I was walking too quickly then and only caught snippets of their conversation. I didn’t understand what they were talking about. Later, Jack and I got married. Although my parents weren’t thrilled about Jack, they agreed to the marriage for my sake. After the wedding, my parents bought us a spacious apartment and provided capital for us to start a business. With my help, we opened a small company. We caught a lucky break, and over the next few years, the company grew increasingly successful. Jack became a self-made millionaire. I never imagined that my wholehearted devotion would be repaid with his betrayal. I trembled with rage, wanting nothing more than to burst into the room and tear those two apart. However, reason prevailed, and I quickly calmed myself. Now was not the time for confrontation. Rachel spoke again, “Honey, you’re not having second thoughts about divorcing her because she gave you a son, are you?” My heart skipped a beat. My son was my bottom line. Jack chuckled, the sound jarring in the quiet space. “That’s my son, isn’t he your son too?” Rachel’s voice piped up, “That’s right. The boy is still young. When the time comes, I’ll raise him as my own.” They both laughed. I was stunned. Hah, these two had it all planned out. They not only wanted my assets but my son as well. Just wait and see. In the end, I’ll make sure they end up with nothing. I heard Rachel start to whine to Jack again, “Honey, I want you again.” “You little minx, are you trying to drain your man dry?” Jack laughed. In no time, their lewd noises started up again, even louder than before, completely disregarding my existence. I clenched my fists so tightly that my nails dug into my palms, but I felt no pain. After a while, I stumbled back to my bedroom. Lying on the big bed, I couldn’t sleep. I stared at the ceiling, tears flowing uncontrollably. I thought back to when Jack and I first started our business. Back then, it was just the two of us. I handled everything, both at home and at work. At the company, I was responsible for all administrative tasks, financial reports, and client relations. At home, I cleaned, did laundry, and cooked. I was spinning like a top every day. With my help, the company finally got on track after three years. Jack had officially left his village life behind. Now, whenever he went back to the village, he was the picture of success. My mother-in-law walked with her head held high in the village, looking down on everyone. I remember one time when my mother-in-law came to our house. In the kitchen, she whispered to Jack, “Son, now that you’re a big boss, isn’t it time to give me a grandson to inherit everything?” I saw Jack nod in agreement. “Mm-hmm.” My mother-in-law clapped her hands excitedly and said in a low voice, “Well, you’d better get a move on. Try to let me hold my grandson by the end of next year.” Jack proudly patted his chest. “Of course. Your son is in excellent shape, you know.” After hearing their conversation, I quietly retreated to my room. Actually, after being married to Jack for so long, I too wanted a baby of my own. But the company needed me, so I had always put the idea of having a baby on the back burner. Now that Jack was on board with the idea, I was secretly thrilled. Not long after, I did indeed get pregnant. After I became pregnant, Jack insisted I stay home to take care of myself. His reasoning was that the company was now on track, and I should enjoy some peace at home. Seeing my hesitation, Jack put his arm around my shoulders and coaxed, “Honey, stay home and take good care of yourself. Grow our son big and strong.” I playfully punched him, laughing, “How do you know it’s a boy? What if it’s a girl?” Jack’s face darkened, his brows furrowing in displeasure. “My mother wants a grandson. We must have a boy.” Later, seeing my dissatisfaction, he changed his tune, saying, “Boy or girl, it doesn’t matter. As long as you’re the one giving birth.” After I got pregnant, Jack became even busier, often not coming home for entire nights. Whenever I texted him, he was either in a meeting or entertaining clients. I was so stupid then, thinking he was working hard for our little family. Now, the thought of him fooling around with Rachel makes me sick to my stomach. I can’t swallow this anger. To gather evidence, I bought wireless cameras online. While Rachel was out grocery shopping, I installed them in the guest room, living room, and kitchen. Sure enough, that very night, Jack and Rachel were at it again.

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The year my adoptive parents passed away, my brother noticed my feelings and responded with just two words: “Disgusting.” Soon after, his company was on the verge of bankruptcy, and he arranged for me to marry into the Sinclair family, giving me away to Rhett Sinclair, the simpleton of their family. Three years later, my brother’s business flourished, and he no longer needed the Sinclairs. With a wave of his hand, he had the entire Sinclair family thrown in prison. Standing before me, he extended his hand and said, “Come home with me.” I simply shook my head and replied, “You must be joking, Mr. Greer. My husband’s name is Sinclair. The Sinclairs are my family now.” My fingers gently traced the photo tucked in my wallet, as if the person in the picture was still by my side, as though he had never left. Tears slowly slid down my cheeks, and I quickly put the wallet away. I couldn’t let him see me cry—he would’ve been heartbroken. A voice, cutting through the moment, interrupted my thoughts. “Ms. Greer, you’ve suffered for three long years in the Sinclair household. Now that things are finally turning around, Mr. Greer is waiting for you. Please, come with me.” I wiped away the remnants of my tears and glanced at Harlan Greer’s assistant, who stood before me. I shook my head calmly. “I’m not going anywhere. I want to stay here.” This was the third time his assistant had tried to convince me, and once again, I refused. He was growing desperate, knowing he had to report back without success. “There’s not a soul left here. Staying like this isn’t doing you any good.” That’s right—no one was here anymore. Just last month, Rhett was here, his arms wrapped around my waist, begging me to feed him oranges. The Sinclairs were still here, laughing together in the garden like a scene out of a perfect family picture. The person in the photo was my husband, Rhett Sinclair. When the District Attorney’s Office arrived to arrest the entire Sinclair family, Rhett was terrified. In a panic, I shoved him into hiding, hoping to save him from their grasp. After the dust settled, he vanished without a trace. I didn’t know where he was, whether he was eating well or sleeping soundly. All I had left was this photo, the only thing that carried my love and worry for him. “I can’t leave. I have to stay and wait for Rhett. If I leave, how will he ever find me?” I turned and met the assistant’s eyes. “Tell Harlan Greer not to send anyone else to fetch me.” The assistant sighed deeply and dialed Harlan’s number. I knew Harlan was always busy—either negotiating deals or rubbing elbows at social events across the country. It took nearly the entire night before he finally answered the call. The assistant switched to speaker so I could hear. Harlan’s voice was hard to read, but I could tell he wasn’t in the best mood. “What is this? Have you stayed away so long that you’ve forgotten your own home?” I didn’t respond, instead turning my gaze to the night outside the window. Silence said more than words ever could. After a long pause, he spoke again, issuing a cold order. “If she wants to stay there, let her stay. She can rot there for all I care.” The moment he finished speaking, the call ended with a sharp beep. He hadn’t even bothered to say anything more to me. I figured he was busy, as always. Busy putting other companies out of business, sending those who crossed him to jail. Rhett was just one more name on that list. Everyone said the Sinclair family deserved their punishment. A lifetime in prison was too kind for the crimes they supposedly committed. But I knew better—it wasn’t the Sinclairs who had committed the crimes. I knew Harlan’s methods all too well. When he needed you, he’d throw away his pride. When he was done, he’d cast you aside without a second thought. The night wind chilled my skin, but I couldn’t rest easy knowing Rhett was out there somewhere, alone and lost. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. I spent the entire day like a fool, clutching that photo and holding on to this house. I didn’t even know when I finally fell asleep. “Get up! Stop pretending to be dead!”

I woke up to the sharp, cutting voice of a woman. Blinking my eyes open, I saw Lila Greer standing before me, her presence so different from my disheveled state. She was dressed in the height of fashion, her lips painted in bright red lipstick, exuding the air of a high-society debutante. Watching me struggle to sit up, she looked down at me with a sneer. “Three years, and this is what you’ve become? If anyone knew you were the eldest daughter of the Greer family, wouldn’t they just die of shame?” She continued, “Harlan specifically told me to bring you home. If you still care about him, you’ll divorce that simpleton and stop wasting your life waiting for him to get out of prison.” “I’m not getting divorced,” I said, laughing coldly. “You haven’t changed a bit, still just as sharp-tongued as ever.” Lila was my younger sister, though unlike me and Harlan, she wasn’t raised with us. She was kidnapped at the age of eight by traffickers. By the time she was found and brought home, our parents had already passed away. Because of this, Lila never had the poised grace of other high-society women. Instead, she carried a bitterness that showed in her every word, always ready to kick someone when they were down. A flicker of something malicious crossed her face but quickly disappeared as she regained her composure. “So what? Do you really think saying something like that would make me angry?” “And don’t think that refusing to divorce him means Harlan can’t do anything about it. He saw this coming, you know. He sent me not just to bring you home but to give you something.” A sinking feeling settled in my stomach as I watched her pull a piece of paper from her designer bag and toss it in front of me with a mocking smile. “You let your own brother force you to marry a simpleton, and now that simpleton is rotting in prison, yet here you are, still waiting.” “Violet, you’re such a fool.” I didn’t listen to the rest of her taunts. My eyes locked onto the paper. My blood ran cold. My ears rang. It was a divorce certificate. My name was on it, my signature at the bottom. But I had never signed it. Harlan had forged my signature, legally severing my only tie to Rhett. Even the bond I had with him was now gone, stolen from me. “No… How could he…?” I gripped the paper, trembling. My stomach churned violently. Darkness crept into my vision as the shock hit me, and my weak body couldn’t take the strain. The world spun, and I collapsed onto the ground. The last thing I saw before I lost consciousness was Lila’s panicked face. She was terrified—if I died, she’d have to answer to Harlan. I don’t know how long passed before paramedics rushed in and took me away on a stretcher. That’s when I finally let go, falling into a long, deep dream. In that dream, I was taken back to the winter I was 22. My adoptive parents had died in a car accident, the family business faced a dire crisis, and Harlan looked at me like a pawn, a mere tool. Then, he made the decision that changed everything—he married me off to Rhett Sinclair, the simpleton no one in their right mind wanted, in exchange for the Sinclair family’s help. Lila had just returned to the family then, screaming and crying about how she had struggled for twenty years. But when it came down to it, Harlan had to choose between his blood sister and me, his adopted one. By the time I knew what was happening, my in-laws were already waiting at the door to take me away.

That night, I ran to Harlan, sobbing. “Why, Harlan? We grew up together. How could you ignore all those years of love between us?” “You know I’m being thrown to the wolves, and you’re willing to sacrifice me to satisfy your ambition? I’m your sister!” He stood in the dark, his expression unreadable. “Violet, just give me some time. When the moment is right, I’ll come back for you.” Just then, Lila rushed out, fanning the flames. “Violet, our family took care of you all these years. You’re always talking about repaying our parents, aren’t you? This is the perfect opportunity, and now you want to refuse?” “Unless… there’s someone else you love?” Her words silenced me. There’s nothing more humiliating than having your deepest feelings laid bare. Instinctively, I glanced at Harlan. When I met his gaze, my face went pale. He frowned, turned away, and muttered, “Disgusting.” Seeing that look on his face, everything suddenly became clear. As time ticked away, he had me bound and thrown into a car, forcing me into the marriage. Before the window closed, the last words he said were: “Violet, once you’re married, there’s no need to come back. Our parents only adopted you because they missed my sister. Now that she’s returned, it’s time for you to step aside.” He had made it clear that I was no longer part of his life. I cried like I had never cried before. All those dreams I once had? Crushed. He despised me, and this was his way of cutting me off completely. I stared at him, the sorrow inside me overwhelming. “Then, I’ll pretend you’re dead to me.” And with that, I married Rhett Sinclair—a man with the face of an angel but the mind of a five-year-old. Life as his wife wasn’t as terrible as I had feared. In fact, it was surprisingly happy. Despite his condition, Rhett was kind-hearted, and most of all, he loved me deeply. “Pretty lady, are you really my wife? Mama said a husband has to protect his wife! Pretty lady, I’ll protect you forever!” He said those words with such sincerity, handing me his treasured candy as if it were the most precious thing in the world. At that moment, it felt like light had pierced the darkness I’d been drowning in. Over the next three years, just as he promised, the entire Sinclair family treated me well—especially Rhett. We watched flowers bloom, and sunrises together, sharing meaningful moments. Rhett never let me suffer, not for a second. In fact, he took better care of me than my own parents, better than Harlan had ever done. He would always follow behind me, proudly telling everyone how lucky he was to have me as his wife. With time, I fell for him. Deeper and deeper. But Harlan destroyed it all. He already had everything he wanted, yet he couldn’t let go of anyone who had wronged him. He obliterated the happiness I had found, leaving nothing but ashes. And so, I hated him. I refused to go back with him. To me, Harlan Greer had died three years ago. That dream collapsed the moment he reappeared in my life. When I woke up, I was in the hospital. The man from my nightmare was now sitting at my bedside, his gaze soft, almost gentle. I turned my head, refusing to look at him. He tried to act kind, but I knew what he really wanted. “Violet, if you can’t make the decision yourself, then I’ll make it for you. I’ll divorce you from Rhett. You won’t have to lower yourself to be married to a simpleton. He’s in prison anyway, so…” “Harlan Greer.” I cut him off, my voice laced with venom. “My brother abandoned me three years ago. As far as I’m concerned, I don’t have a brother anymore.” “And as for your home? It hasn’t been mine for a long time. The only home I have left is the one I made with my husband.” His face hardened, his anger rising. “Violet Greer, are you seriously that in love with a simpleton?”

“Yes, I love him very much,” I replied truthfully. Harlan’s anger only grew. I could feel the heat in the air from his furious breath. Meanwhile, my fingers instinctively reached for the photo in my wallet, a habit I had developed after Rhett’s sudden disappearance, as if holding onto it could keep him close. Harlan caught this small gesture. Without warning, he snatched the wallet from me, pulled out the photo, and stared at it with a cold, dark expression. “Violet, I had no idea you loved him this much. Maybe I made a mistake sending you to him in the first place.” As he spoke, he pulled out a lighter from his pocket. Right in front of me, he set the photo ablaze, watching as it slowly turned to ash. The entire time, his gaze was fixed on me, waiting for a reaction. But I gave him none. It wasn’t that I didn’t care about the photo, but I knew that showing any kind of distress would only give him the satisfaction he craved. If Rhett were still here, he would never want me to get upset over something like this. He hated seeing me angry or sad. I closed my eyes, forcing myself to swallow the rising sorrow. When I opened them again, the ashes of the photo were scattered by the wind. Seeing that I was unmoved, Harlan’s frustration was evident. He leaned in closer and left me with a cryptic remark. “If you love him that much, then I’ll take you to see him.” What? He knew where Rhett was? I grabbed Harlan’s arm, my voice shaking with urgency. “What did you do to him?!” Though his words filled me with hope, they also brought an overwhelming sense of dread. If Harlan knew where Rhett was, it could only mean that Rhett had been taken and hidden away. God only knew what kind of suffering he had been enduring. Harlan, seeing the anguish in my face, remained unnervingly calm. He pressed a finger to his lips, signaling for silence. “That’s why you need to behave, Violet,” he said slowly. “Otherwise, I can’t promise my men will keep their hands off him. For now, they’re just watching over him. But if I wake up on the wrong side of the bed one day, well… let’s just say that simpleton might not have it so easy anymore.” “Harlan Greer, you’re doing this on purpose!” I screamed, balling my fists in rage, wishing I could tear him apart right then and there. He tilted his head slightly, cracking his knuckles as he spoke with a chilling calmness. “Exactly, Violet. So, you’d better start listening to me. Right now, I’m giving him a little lesson. But if you don’t fall in line, next time won’t be so gentle.” “I’ll be honest with you—I’ve gotten to where I am by stepping over a lot of bodies. So, what’s one more death to me?” “You’re insane!” I yelled, my voice breaking under the weight of my emotions. His twisted satisfaction only deepened as he left me with one last thing to think about. “I’ll let you sleep on it.” Once he left, I collapsed onto the floor, drenched in sweat. My body was trembling, and the room felt like it was closing in on me. After that, I had no choice but to agree to return home. But it wasn’t my home. I was a prisoner in the Greer Mansion. Harlan had guards stationed outside my door, day and night, making sure I couldn’t escape. I didn’t resist. I simply watched the geese outside my window, flying in pairs across the sky, their movements lively and free—everything I wasn’t. Sometimes Lila would come by to mock me, but I barely listened. And Harlan? He often came home early, especially on days like this one, when he brought me a skewer of candy apples, hoping to stir some kind of reaction. “Violet, you used to love these. Try one. See if it still tastes like when we were kids.” I shook my head. I remembered the third month after I married into the Sinclair family, still lost in the pain of betrayal. Every time I cried, there was always a man following me around. I found him annoying and ignored him. But Rhett didn’t seem to care whether I paid attention to him or not. He just kept bringing me sweet treats every day—sometimes it was cotton candy, sometimes little sugar figures. “I don’t know why you’re crying,” he would say, “but I asked around, and everyone told me you love sweets. So I brought these for you, hoping they’ll make you smile.” “I don’t understand all that scheming, but I do know one thing—anyone who makes my wife cry is a bad person. They need a good beating.” His goofy, innocent words made me laugh, and somehow, my tears stopped. But now that Rhett was gone, sweets just didn’t taste the same anymore. The candy apples Harlan brought me were nothing compared to the treats Rhett used to give me. And without warning, I felt a wave of nausea. Before I could stop myself, I vomited right there on the floor. Harlan panicked, immediately calling for the guards to help. They rushed me to his private clinic. The doctor ran a few simple tests. What he said next shocked everyone in the room. “Mr. Greer, congratulations. Ms. Greer is pregnant. And judging by the ultrasound, the baby is almost full-term.” I placed my hand on my stomach, and amidst all the suppressed pain, I found a small sliver of joy. I was pregnant? I was carrying Rhett’s child… That meant, when Rhett came back, he would see the baby I had for him, and we could finally reunite as a family—the three of us. I was lost in the warmth of the thought, basking in the hope of our future, until Harlan’s sudden outburst pulled me back to reality. In a fit of rage, he swept all the medical instruments off the table, sending them crashing to the ground, before grabbing the doctor by the collar. “Check again! You must’ve made a mistake. That simpleton has the mind of a child—how could he have done something like that?” The doctor remained silent. Harlan knew the truth, even if he didn’t want to admit it. Rhett might have been slow, but he was still a man, and he was fully capable of fathering a child. Harlan stood there for two minutes, letting the room’s heavy silence settle. Eventually, he let the doctor go, who quickly fled the room. Now, it was just the two of us. I stood up slowly, hands protectively cradling my stomach, and headed toward the door. But I had only taken a couple of steps when Harlan’s voice, cold and distant, echoed behind me. “Violet, get rid of the baby.” I froze, whipping around to face him. “What did you just say?” He was standing there, his expression unreadable, slowly walking closer to me. When he got near, he tried to sound gentle, as if he was concerned for my well-being. “This child’s father is a simpleton, Violet. If you have this baby, it will only grow up to be a simpleton too. You don’t want that for your child, do you?” I felt panic rising in my chest, and I took a few steps back, retreating as far as I could. But something had changed. Knowing I was a mother now gave me strength, a courage I hadn’t felt before. I raised my head and forced myself to meet his eyes. “Even if the child is a simpleton, as long as it’s Rhett’s, I’m keeping it.” Harlan’s lips curled into a bitter smile, one filled with mockery. He glanced toward the doorway where the doctor had fled, and then gave the order. “Get rid of it.”

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I was diagnosed with chronic endometriosis, and the doctor said that getting pregnant might ease the symptoms; otherwise, a hysterectomy might be my only option. But ever since Ethan regained his sight, he’s barely touched me. He just gives me a quick kiss on the forehead, saying he’s too tired. I tried to be understanding, figuring he must be worn out from work at Sunset Therapeutics. But then, one night, after he turned over, facing away, I heard him mumble: “You know, maybe you should go to Revive Aesthetics and ask about that laser scar removal thing, see if they can do anything.” I froze. It had been so long since I’d felt that sting of shame, flushing my face hot and cold. But more than shame, I was in shock. Was Ethan… repulsed by my face? My name’s Grace Holloway, and I’m 28 years old. My husband, Ethan Rivers, is a blind massage therapist, three years younger than me. We met through a matchmaker service. I had been burned in a house fire, leaving a scar that stretches down the side of my cheek and neck—a deep, twisting mark that used to make me shudder. I delayed marriage because of it. My parents, traditional as they were, finally encouraged me to use Matchmaker Services and meet Ethan. The matchmaker, thrilled, had told us our names were a match made in poetry. Ethan and Grace—it sounded like a pair meant to be together. “Just think,” she whispered to me, “he’s blind. He can’t even see your scars, so he won’t mind.” Ethan didn’t know about my scars. That made him even more accepting when he heard my background and circumstances. He was gentle and kind, and he had a way with the guitar, playing in the lobby while I’d sing for our clients, my voice unexpectedly clear and ringing. Our regulars even joked we were “the perfect harmony.” Life had closed doors for each of us, but meeting filled what had been missing. To most people, we were both tragic and enviable at the same time, as though we’d each found our soulmate despite fate’s challenges. Ethan hadn’t been blind since birth; an accident in a factory left his eyes permanently damaged from severe light exposure. For years, despite no medical progress, I’d still take him from doctor to doctor, hoping someone could help. After he lost his sight, Ethan learned the art of massage, and I left my job to support him, running the business side of Sunset Therapeutics. “Grace, I love you. I’d give anything to see your face…though I know I never will.” He used to touch my face, tracing my features with gentle fingers, that soft smile of his almost sorrowful. With no family left, I knew I was his only support in the world. Holding his hand to my cheek, I secretly made a promise to myself: I would do everything possible to restore his sight. Maggie, my best friend, warned me in quiet moments that Ethan’s good looks were bound to spell trouble if he ever regained his vision. Sometimes, I worried she might be right. But I’d forget it every time I saw Ethan’s daily struggle. All I wanted was his happiness and peace. One day, as I served him his favorite food—a bit of fried tuna eye, cooked just the way he liked it—I told him softly, “If you could see again, that’d be wonderful. But even if not, isn’t our life good as it is? Being able to see would just be icing on the cake.” Ethan nodded, shyly. He always relied on me without question, never starting a fight. Maybe it was all the prayers, or the endless doctor visits, or maybe even the fish eyes he’d been eating. Because, one day, he could see again. It happened when he accurately reached for a toothpaste tube that had fallen to the floor. Overwhelmed, I waved my hand in front of him. “Ethan, you can really see me?” I was in the kitchen, cooking while wearing a mask to avoid the fumes, as we hadn’t gotten a proper exhaust installed yet to save money. He rubbed his eyes, his excitement spilling into a loud shout. Then he asked me to remove my mask, eager to see me for the first time. “Grace, you don’t know how I’ve dreamed of this moment. Your voice is so sweet…you must be beautiful, I…” I froze, holding onto my mask. It hit me then how terrified I was of him seeing my face. The structure of my features was fine enough, but time had eroded whatever youth I’d once had. And of course, there was that long scar running along my cheek. Before I could think, he’d pulled off my mask, impatient. “Honey!” The ugly scar was exposed in the smoky kitchen air, and time seemed to freeze. My heart sank as I saw, in Ethan’s clear blue eyes, an unmistakable flicker of disappointment. Didn’t he know I’d once been beautiful too? Ignoring the tears prickling my eyes, I turned back to the stove, where the tuna eyes had burned, black and sticky at the bottom of the pan. They looked horribly unappetizing. “Don’t worry about it, honey,” Ethan murmured, wrapping his arms around me from behind and burying his face into my neck. “I still love you. Don’t doubt it.” The tears spilled over then, feeling both relieved and vulnerable in his embrace. Gathering my courage, I told him about my health condition. The doctor had recently diagnosed me with chronic endometriosis, a common issue, he’d said, for women. Getting pregnant might relieve the symptoms; otherwise, surgery might be the only option. The surgery was mostly effective, though it would nearly eliminate my chance of ever having kids. Embarrassed, I explained, “With you being blind all this time, we always used protection. We just didn’t plan on a baby.” There was a hint of longing in my voice, a hope I’d buried until now. I had once prepared myself to be childless my whole life, solely focused on supporting Ethan. He only nodded, barely smiling, though I saw his gaze linger on my scar. In the days that followed, he was more attentive, even helping with the housework. I began trying everything to get pregnant—lying with my legs up against the wall for half an hour each night, drinking herbal teas I could barely stomach. Ethan adjusted quickly to his new life, as if he had never lost his sight at all. But slowly, I began to notice something was off. It all started one evening after a familiar client had come by. Her name was Brittany Monroe. She was around twenty, beautiful, and striking, especially with her exaggerated curves. During one chat, she’d casually mentioned her breast enhancement. “In my line of work, you know, it’s all about looks and body. You have to look the part to work in public relations.” She’d said it without a thought, despite my scarred face. She had chronic back pain and often visited our massage parlor. This time was different though—Ethan could finally see her. It happened to be my ovulation period, and that night, I turned off the lights and tried to reach for him, gently caressing his shoulders. “Ethan…” But he wouldn’t touch me, only kissing my forehead and saying he was too tired. I thought it was because he was overworked, and I understood, nodding my agreement. Then I heard him, turning over, muttering: “You know, maybe you should check in with Revive Aesthetics, see if that laser scar removal thing can do anything.” I was stunned. I hadn’t felt that shame in so long—it flooded my face hot and cold. But above all, I was shocked. Was Ethan repulsed by my face?

Ethan’s vision returned, and he was soon back in his social circles, fitting in as if he’d never left. I, however, became more withdrawn, changing from lively to quiet and distant. I even spent a painful amount on a custom prosthetic skin cover, applying adhesive every day to hide the scar. Every removal hurt like fire, but I didn’t regret it if it helped him see me as a bit more acceptable. “Grace, you’ve got a bit of a people-pleasing problem, don’t you?” Maggie chastised me, exasperated at my blindness to the situation. I stayed calm, as usual. “It’s okay. He’s just excited about seeing again—it’s bound to take some adjustment. Once I get pregnant, things will settle down.” I’d believed that having a baby would bind him to us, keep him from straying. Then, things began to spiral out of control, shattering every last defense I’d held up in our marriage. Ethan stopped showing up at Sunset Therapeutics as often, saying he didn’t want to “fake being blind” anymore. At home, he slipped into his old habits, going back to doing nothing around the house, and soon became glued to his phone and video games. I reminded him that staring at a screen wasn’t good for his newly healed eyes, but he only snapped back at me: “Don’t bother me! I finally get to see, and I want to take in all the beauty I missed. Let me enjoy it.” Beauty, indeed, and not just the beauty of nature. I pursed my lips. He didn’t know I was aware that each night, he’d scroll through social media, liking videos of attractive women. Seeing him prefer those women on a screen over his own wife lying next to him was a wound that bled fresh each time. That evening, as I was heading out, I mentioned offhandedly that Frank Hall and Brittany Monroe would be at the massage parlor, so I’d be going there in person. The moment he heard those names, Ethan suddenly seemed energized, getting on his bike and speeding off ahead of me. Surprised, I raised an eyebrow. He mumbled something about wanting fishing tips from Frank. I nodded, saying nothing, then headed inside to clean the massage tools. Ethan did talk to Frank about fishing tips for a bit, thanking him for all the fish he’d brought over the years. Then I heard the chime of the shop’s door. “Oh, wow, it’s pouring rain out there—I forgot my umbrella. So hot and sticky out,” came Brittany’s voice. She was our regular, the PR girl. Last time, Ethan still pretended to be blind while massaging her. But here he was, acting blind again. “Guess we’re getting a little rain blessing,” he laughed. She giggled, her perfume drifting through the shop as she replied, “Well, if this is rain’s gift, then you can give me my massage.” My instincts kicked in, and I peered through the crack in the door. Brittany was radiant, with designer clothes and flawless makeup. While I doubted she’d fall for Ethan, it wasn’t impossible that he’d fall for her looks. “Ethan, I have to run an errand. I’ll be back soon. Please take care of Brittany’s session,” I told him. Our only other employee had called in sick, so he was alone with her. Ethan didn’t even blink at me as I left. His face seemed flushed, his usual pale complexion touched with red. “Sure thing, honey.” When I left, I made sure to close the door and adjust the blinds, leaving nothing to chance. What he didn’t know was that I’d followed Maggie’s advice and installed a tiny camera to watch the shop’s main area. After leaving, I made my way to a nearby café, where I opened the video feed on my phone. There she was, easing off her black stockings, shrugging out of her jacket to reveal her waistline, and lying down on the massage table. I held my breath, unable to tear my eyes away from the screen. They started talking, laughing, and I saw Ethan remove his gloves, applying the massage oil with his bare hands. Usually, we required gloves for hygiene purposes. Then, my heart stopped at what I saw next. What began as a straightforward massage quickly turned into something more. I could see the blush rising on his face. Brittany moaned softly, “It’s so hot in here. Why don’t you turn on the fan?” I silently willed him to turn on the fan—there were two ceiling fans in the small shop. But he just told her, “The fan’s broken.” Though it wasn’t summer yet, the humidity was still intense, and I was dripping sweat sitting in the café. Brittany muttered, “Oh,” looking visibly uncomfortable in the heat. Then she asked, “Can you actually see?” Ethan shook his head, playing innocent. “No, ma’am. I’m as blind as ever.” “Good, because this heat is killing me.” And then, as I watched, speechless, Brittany casually unbuttoned her blouse, exposing herself to the “blind” massage therapist.

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My fiancé, Caleb, was diagnosed with late-stage cancer just before we were to be married. Lying in that hospital bed, he and his mother pleaded with me to give him a child, a continuation of his legacy. Feeling moved by our three years together, I agreed and soon became pregnant. But I never expected that he’d want a final rush of wild freedom, hoping to fill the world with his own descendants. My name is Lila Caldwell. I’m twenty-one, freshly graduated from college, and just wrapped up a three-year relationship with my boyfriend, Caleb Northwood. We were finally ready to walk down the aisle. Caleb and I couldn’t have been from more different worlds. My family was modest—humble even. My passion and violin skills helped me land a place at Huntington College of Music on a scholarship. Caleb, four years older than me, came from a wealthy background and had already started his own small business. After one of my school performances, he introduced himself, charmed, and asked for my contact information. From that moment on, he pursued me with an intense passion. It didn’t take long for me to fall for him—who could resist a handsome, well-off guy who seemed to have it all? My parents, always straightforward and unpretentious, adored him. They couldn’t stop praising my “well-matched” engagement, convinced that I was lucky to be “marrying up.” They didn’t even ask for any financial support from his family. But just as we were sending out wedding invitations, Caleb, after years of dining out and hosting endless business events, was admitted to the hospital with severe abdominal pain. And that’s when everything fell apart. The biopsy results came back, confirming late-stage colorectal cancer. I sat by his hospital bed, clutching Caleb’s thin, frail hand, sobbing uncontrollably. The doctors had done a minimally invasive biopsy, so his abdomen was tender, and he had an oxygen tube up his nose, looking pale and pitiful. Seeing my tears, he reluctantly reached out and touched my face with his rough, trembling fingers, trying to comfort me. “Lila, please, don’t cry,” he whispered. “This might be better. After all, we haven’t tied the knot yet… this won’t keep you from meeting someone new. You’re still ‘single’ on paper—that’s good, right?” I shook my head fiercely, nearly shattered by the shock of his words. We had planned to get married next month. It seemed impossible to me that such cruel news could be true. “No,” I insisted. “I only want you. Just stay with the doctors, and you’ll get better—I know it.” It was a feeble attempt at comforting him because I’d already been told he might have a year left at most. He didn’t respond, just brought my hand to his parched lips, brushing a kiss across my fingers. I forced myself to smile, trying to keep my tears in check as I whispered, “Remember? You promised we’d go to Vienna and hear the Philharmonic perform once you were better. We’ll make it our honeymoon.” Even as I said it, I knew it was just wishful thinking. But I couldn’t stop myself from dreaming out loud. Beside us, his mother, Margaret, stood by the bed, usually glamorous but now looking worn down from tears. She’d fainted more than once since hearing the diagnosis. “Lila,” Caleb’s faint voice came again. “After I’m gone… marry someone good. My mom has my brother, and she’ll be fine, but I worry about you the most.” It was heartbreaking to realize that even now, he was still thinking of me before himself. I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. Feeling the weight of his hopelessness, I finally broke down, sobbing over the bed. After some time, when I had calmed a little, I whispered softly, “Do you have any other wishes? Whatever time we have, I’ll do anything to make it come true.” He hesitated for a long moment before speaking in a low, raspy voice. “Lila, I love you more than anything. My one regret… is that we won’t get to have a child together.” I froze, feeling tears catch on my cheeks. Because of my upbringing, Caleb and I hadn’t been intimate, even after three years of dating. So, did he mean he wanted me to have his child? Caleb looked at me tentatively, his expression both pitiful and vulnerable. “If you could… the child would stay with my mom. I’d arrange everything so they’d inherit my share of the company. No one else would ever need to know about it.” His request hit me like a punch. I was only twenty-one, and I’d been planning to go to Austria for music school in a few months. Just then, his mother, Margaret, broke down into sobs, falling to her knees in front of me. I was startled, rushing to help her up, but she gripped my hands, her face wet with tears, and begged, “Lila, I know you’re a kind woman. Please say yes to Caleb’s last wish. It would give us something to live for after he’s gone. I’m begging you…” I looked over at Caleb, feeling conflicted. Honestly, I didn’t want to bring a child into the world who’d grow up without a father. His expression was filled with quiet desperation, as though asking, “Lila, isn’t our love worth leaving a legacy behind?” “Lila, this child won’t ever hold you back in life. I promise. After the baby’s born, Caleb’s father and I will make sure you’re set for the future.” I admit, I was young and deeply emotional, and Caleb’s suffering overwhelmed everything else in my mind. So, in a moment of weakness, I agreed. Caleb pulled me into a tight hug, resting his hand on my stomach, as though he already felt a piece of himself growing there. After his insistence, Caleb was discharged early, and he planned for us to stay nearby at Blue Ridge Springs Resort, his idea of a honeymoon to start a family. I suggested getting legally married, but he cut me off sternly, saying it would only complicate my future. “I’ll never let us get legally bound,” he insisted. A flash of doubt crossed my mind—was it possible he didn’t want me to have any claim to his inheritance? But I quickly dismissed the thought. I could feel he was sincere. He kept mentioning how he’d make sure I was financially secure after the baby was born. Though money didn’t matter to me, I was moved by his thoughtfulness. On the third day, hiding the truth about his illness from my parents, I joined him at the resort. When the time came, I was nervous, deeply uncomfortable with the strange blend of duty and sacrifice rather than pure love. My first time was painful and unsettling, and he barely noticed, caught up in his own needs. Afterward, he even told me to lie on my back against the wall for half an hour to “help with conception.” We stayed at the resort for a few days. Caleb was surprisingly optimistic, even comforting me whenever I worried about his illness. “Lila, don’t be scared,” he’d say, “I’ve accepted things. Living is all about enjoying what you have.” So, I stayed true to my promise, never using protection. Sometimes, when his illness faded into the background, his energy made him seem almost healthy. Yet, his thinning hair from chemotherapy was a reminder that cancer’s grip was unrelenting. Finally, after weeks of effort, I stared down at the test stick in my hands. It showed two lines—I was pregnant. But instead of feeling joy, I felt a hollow ache. I could only sigh. I hoped he’d realize that I wasn’t doing this for any financial gain but out of love. His condition worsened quickly after that, and the hospital visits became frequent until the day he never left again.

After confirming my pregnancy, Margaret’s attention only grew, and she even hired a caregiver to help me. “Lila, that baby in your belly is all Caleb has left,” she’d say. “You have to take care of yourself.” Still, I took it upon myself to look after Caleb, making soups and stews to encourage his appetite. Years of growing up without much had made me resourceful in the kitchen. That day, I cooked corn and rib soup from scratch, as I always did, and brought it to him in the VIP ward on the top floor of St. Mary’s Medical Center. The VIP ward was fitting for Caleb’s family’s status. It was lunchtime, and the floor was silent, sunlit hallways stretching before me as I walked toward his room, carrying the food. Though I had given up on my dream of studying in Austria and a future in music, I felt no regrets. I was doing it for love. But as I approached the door, I heard something odd—soft voices from within the room. I froze, pressing my ear to the door. The voice was unmistakably his. He’d removed his oxygen tube, whispering intimately to someone I couldn’t see. “…Jenny, give me one last chance. Have my child, my last hope,” he pleaded breathlessly.

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Lucas, Gabriel and I have been childhood friends since we were little. Lucas was warm and cheerful, while Gabriel was cold and reserved. We grew up together until an uninvited guest entered our world of three. When Lucas came to find me in class, I was explaining a problem to Gabriel. Gabriel always had a calm expression, and his face rarely showed any emotion, like a block of ice. English was his weakness, and as his classmate and childhood friend, I had no reason not to help him since I was good at English. However, Gabriel didn’t seem to care much, and I wasn’t sure if he was really listening. He would only give a slight response when I reached key points. Lucas knocked on the classroom window and poked his head in with a grin, “Gabriel! Sophia! Wait for me after school, let’s go home together!” Gabriel looked up indifferently, “You came all the way here just to say that?” “Hehe, I just wanted to come see you guys. It’s not my fault I’m the only one not in your class!” Seeing our posture, with me leaning towards Gabriel, Lucas pouted, “My English isn’t great either. Sophia, when are you going to tutor me too?” I lowered my head and smiled without saying anything.

Lucas and Gabriel are childhood friends who grew up with me. We’re neighbors. When I was little, my parents were always busy with work and often couldn’t take care of me. The kind neighbor aunties would invite me over for meals. That’s how I met Lucas and Gabriel through our neighbors. Gabriel was often sick as a child and stayed at home a lot, without many playmates his age. When I went to his house for meals, his parents would always ask me to play with him for a while. Gabriel was cold even as a child, but he accepted all my friendly gestures. Eventually, I figured out his interests and would bring geography magazines every time I came to play with him. When it came to geography, he would talk a little more than usual. Of course, it was still just a little bit more. Getting to know a chatterbox like Lucas was even more natural. Later, I often went to Gabriel’s house with Lucas to play with him. That’s how the three of us grew up together and went to the same middle and high school. On the way home, it was often the three of us together. Lucas would talk non-stop about the interesting things that happened that day, while Gabriel walked quietly beside us, occasionally retorting. I often wished that these days could go on forever.

On the way home from school, when Lucas was waiting for me at the school gate, I saw the silhouette of another girl beside him. Emma, Lucas’s deskmate. When we entered high school, Lucas was assigned to a different class from us. Lucas met his new deskmate Emma, who seemed to be a very quiet girl. Emma came from a single-parent family, living with her mom, but was occasionally harassed and abused by her divorced father. Her tragic background immediately aroused Lucas’s sympathy. His sense of justice exploded, and he decided to help Emma. He even brought Emma along when hanging out with us, saying he wanted to help her make friends. From that day on, everything started to change. Emma was petite and quiet, with timid eyes like a little cat, easily arousing people’s protective instincts. She spoke softly and weakly, forming a stark contrast with my outgoing personality. When I got excited about something, my voice would naturally get louder. At these times, Lucas would pretend to be angry and glance at me, then protect Emma. “Can’t you lower your voice a bit! You’re scaring our Emma!” Emma’s unfortunate family background always made Lucas indignant. Even Gabriel would comfort her a few words and tell me to speak more softly. I frowned as I watched the two of them revolving around Emma, but couldn’t say anything. I had no reason to reject Emma’s joining. She was already miserable enough and didn’t have many friends at school. If I resisted her, wouldn’t I be a terrible person? I could only endure. Even when speaking, I had to lower my volume for Emma, who was easily frightened. I couldn’t talk about topics Emma wasn’t familiar with, otherwise, she would become sensitive and overthink. I could no longer laugh and joke around freely with Lucas, and Gabriel wouldn’t stand aside laughing and calling us crazy anymore. Now they would speak softly to Emma, having long forgotten how we used to interact so freely.

The four of us walked home side by side, and I remained silent. I don’t know when it started, but I stopped talking much when Emma was around. I didn’t know which of my words might touch Emma’s sensitive nerves, causing her to cry, followed by Lucas and Gabriel scrambling to comfort her. Lucas seemed to notice my unusual behavior and tried to ease the atmosphere by speaking first. “Hey Sophia, why don’t you tutor Emma and me in English sometime?” I glanced briefly at Lucas and Emma standing together. “We’ll see.” Lucas’s face froze slightly, not expecting me to refuse him. Emma timidly tugged at Lucas’s sleeve. Gabriel frowned and looked at me, “Are you in a bad mood lately?” “Mm, that time of the month.” I vaguely brushed them off while kicking small stones on the road. No matter what, I felt very uncomfortable about how our friendship had become. Especially when I saw Emma, I felt even more uneasy.

I don’t dislike Emma. If I disliked her, I wouldn’t have been so considerate of her family background and sensitive personality, carefully thinking before speaking. When the four of us eat together, I can’t even mention the restaurants we three used to go to, because Emma’s family couldn’t afford such restaurants, and mentioning it would make Emma feel inferior. That’s what Gabriel and Lucas said, so I didn’t want to argue. At first, it was just restaurants, but later there were more and more things we couldn’t talk about; our graduation trip to Japan, going to Disneyland together, surfing at the beach together… Lucas said that Emma had always stayed in a small town, her family wasn’t well-off, she had never been abroad, and didn’t have many entertainment options, so we shouldn’t mention these things to widen the gap between friends. Gabriel nodded in agreement beside him. Those beautiful memories were sealed in our hearts, never to be mentioned again. Lucas and Emma talked about interesting things in their class, while Gabriel listened quietly, occasionally making sarcastic comments like before. I listlessly finished the cola in my cup and chewed on the ice cubes. Noticing the sound, the other three all turned their gazes towards me. “Sophia, what’s wrong? You seem to be in a bad mood lately.” Surprisingly, Emma was the first to speak up, looking at me with concern in her pitiful eyes. Lucas and Gabriel both looked at me nervously. I suddenly felt very annoyed. I didn’t want to pay for someone else’s sensitivity anymore, nor did I want to become someone who couldn’t say anything. “It’s nothing, I just can’t join the conversation. It’s a bit frustrating.”

I saw Emma’s eyes instantly turn red. “I’m, I’m sorry, is it because I’m here, interrupting your chat? Then I’ll leave first…” Lucas frowned and stopped her, “What are you leaving for? Sophia wasn’t talking about you.” Emma’s eyes reddened even more, and a few tears fell. Lucas seemed to realize his tone was a bit harsh and softened his voice, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you.” He turned to look at me, “Sophia, you—” “I do find it quite boring, and I’ve had enough,” I interrupted him. “If we can’t say what we want to say when we’re with friends, what’s the point of being friends?” Lucas looked somewhat shocked. Emma was still looking at me with teary eyes. The atmosphere became very tense for a moment. Even Gabriel, the ice mountain, tried to save this awkward situation, “Um…” I stood up first, picking up my tray, “I’m leaving first.” There was no point in staying any longer, and Lucas and Gabriel wouldn’t necessarily take my side. There was no intense argument, but we began to fall into a cold war. Gabriel, who was in the same class as me, always seemed like he wanted to say something but was stopped by me every time. I’m not an unreasonable person, I just want them to see clearly that our friendship is now distorted and unhealthy. If we have to keep our mouths shut when chatting with friends, then what’s the point of being friends? I can only endure. Even when speaking, I have to lower my volume for Emma, who is easily frightened, and I can’t talk about topics Emma isn’t familiar with, otherwise, she’ll become sensitive and overthink. I can no longer laugh and joke around freely with Lucas, and Gabriel won’t stand aside laughing and calling us crazy anymore. Now they speak softly to Emma, having long forgotten how we used to interact so freely.

A new student transferred to our class, with beautiful eyes that were brown in the sunlight. His name was also nice, Noah, but he seemed a bit cold. Just like Gabriel, like a big ice cube. It happened to be time for seat changes in our class, and Gabriel and I were no longer desk mates. The new student became my desk mate. As soon as he moved in, I eagerly asked him, “Are you wearing colored contacts? Your eyes are so beautiful!” Noah obviously didn’t react, he was stunned for a moment, “Thanks?” I gave him a big smile, “Hi, I’m Sophia.” Noah nodded, his expression still unchanged, but unlike Gabriel, he didn’t seem to have such a strong sense of distance. Or to put it another way, his aloofness wasn’t due to coldness, but rather revealed a hint of scholarly air. I noticed Gabriel, who was arranged not far behind me to my left, was looking at me, but I didn’t turn back to look at him. “Sophia.” Noah tentatively called my name, and I turned back to look at him. He actually showed a faint smile, “Your name is really nice.” I stared at him blankly. This must be what it’s like when an iceberg melts. Although they were both cold-faced handsome guys, Noah and Gabriel gave very different impressions.

Lucas brought Emma to find me in class. As usual, he opened the window next to my seat, but he didn’t expect that the person sitting beside me was no longer Gabriel. Noah looked up at him with a puzzled expression, “Who are you?” … Lucas was quite embarrassed until he saw me sitting nearby, and his eyes brightened. “Sophia! I… we have something to tell you.” I looked up and saw Emma standing behind Lucas, looking very dependent on him, and I couldn’t help but feel annoyed again. “Class is about to start.” Lucas’s face instantly fell, “Sophia, are you, are you still angry?” I didn’t want to answer at all. The moment I saw Lucas and Emma appear together, when I heard Lucas say “we”. I clearly understood that the problem between us couldn’t be solved by a simple apology. “Classmate, there are two minutes left before the bell rings.” Noah seemed to sense my resistance and spoke up to reject Lucas for me, even closing the window. Lucas glanced at Noah with some annoyance before leaving with Emma. I thanked Noah, feeling very confused inside.

gradually became more familiar with Noah. We were desk mates, and since he was new and had many questions, I patiently answered them all and even took him on a tour of the campus. His science grades were very good, but his liberal arts subjects were terrible. So I started explaining English to Noah, and in exchange, Noah promised to help improve my math scores. I found it quite surprising. Before, when I was tutoring Gabriel, I just considered it as help between friends. Gabriel, who was equally excellent in science, never offered to help improve my math. At the time, I didn’t think much of it, just feeling that I could help if I could. Now, getting feedback from Noah, I couldn’t help but make comparisons. As we interacted more, we became friends. Although Noah was as taciturn as Gabriel, he would seriously respond to every word I said. “Why is the answer A for this question?” “The question asks to choose the incorrect option.” “What class do we have next?” “Music class, we can catch up on homework.” “Noah, do you find me annoying?” I remembered that when the four of us used to hang out together, Lucas and Gabriel complained that I was loud and talked too much, saying I was too noisy and not as quiet as Emma, who spoke softly. Noah looked at me, “I don’t find you annoying. I quite like listening to you talk.” “Also, next time you can just call me Noah instead of classmate.”

I still walked home with Lucas and the others. After I gave them the cold shoulder last time, they solemnly apologized to me and said they wouldn’t ignore my feelings anymore. After all, we had been friends for so many years, and it wasn’t something that could just be ended. However, Emma was still following behind Lucas, always looking at Lucas and talking cheerfully. Gabriel became even more silent than before. After seeing my relationship with Noah progress rapidly in class, he finally couldn’t help but speak up, “Sophia, you’re tutoring Noah in English?” “Yeah, what’s wrong?” His expression darkened for a moment. “Noah? You mean that guy who sits next to you?” Lucas chimed in, sounding a bit displeased. “When did you get so close to him?” “It’s just classmates helping each other with homework, what’s the big deal? Besides, he said he would help me improve my math too.” To be honest, I found Lucas’s sudden anger a bit baffling. Lucas retorted, “If you want help with math, can’t you ask Gabriel?” Gabriel’s body seemed to stiffen for a moment. I lowered my head and replied, “I sit closer to Noah, it’s more convenient.”

Lucas continued to be dissatisfied on the way home, until we reached the entrance of our neighborhood and he went into his house first. I was about to take out my keys when Gabriel called out to me. “Sophia.” I stopped. He hesitated for a moment before slowly speaking. “When you were tutoring me in English before, I didn’t think about teaching you math in return. I took your kindness for granted. I’m sorry I didn’t consider it.” “Next time if you have questions about math, come find me.” I waved my hands repeatedly, “Don’t listen to Lucas’s nonsense. I really didn’t mind at all. Besides, I helped you with English voluntarily.” Gabriel looked at me steadily, “But I don’t want you to get too close to Noah, closer than our relationship.” “I think Lucas probably feels the same way, that’s why he was so unhappy.” I remained silent for a long time before looking up to answer him. “What’s the use of saying all this? Didn’t you guys let Emma join our group too?” Gabriel’s expression changed. “So, there’s nothing wrong with me being close to other people, right? If possible, I also plan to bring Noah into our circle. After all, he’s my friend too, just like Emma is your friend.” “But Sophia, Emma is different. Her family situation is like that, so Lucas and I just wanted to take care of her more, so…” “So, there’s a problem between us. You’re so smart, you must see it. An apology is just a step, the problem in our friendship hasn’t been thoroughly resolved.” I interrupted him. “Alright, let’s stop here for today. I’m tired, see you tomorrow.” “Sophia…” I blocked the words he was about to say and turned to go back to my own home.

I don’t have any opinion against Emma, nor do I deliberately exclude her. I still remember when Emma first joined us, how Lucas gently introduced me and Gabriel to her. Just like that, naturally, she joined our friendship of over ten years. I wanted to show her friendliness, so the next day I brought her some pastries from my favorite bakery. Unexpectedly, when she saw the price, she almost burst into tears. “Wuwuwu, my mom and I have never eaten such expensive pastries. Thank you, Sophia. Can I save this pastry for my mom?” We frantically tried to comfort her for a long time, but she still couldn’t stop crying. Lucas pretended to blame me, saying it was my fault for being too insensitive and making Emma cry. I knew he was joking to lighten the mood, but I still felt a tightness in my heart. Later, no matter what I did, they would protect Emma, telling me not to touch on Emma’s sad experiences. After all, her family situation was so unfortunate, she should be happier at school. I told myself it was okay, they had the right to make new friends. But when I found out that even Gabriel, who was usually so cold, was intentionally or unintentionally favoring Emma and trying to make her happy. I couldn’t help but feel sour inside. I seriously tried to avoid Emma and talked to Lucas and Gabriel about this matter. But Lucas didn’t care at all and said I was overthinking. “Can’t you be more understanding of Emma? Her family condition is so poor, unlike us who have everything we need.”

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After an arranged marriage, I suddenly had a 4-and-a-half-year-old son. Before meeting him, I was dreading it. I imagined a miserable life with a husband who ignored me and a stepson who pretended I didn’t exist. But when I saw that adorable little boy shyly calling me “Mommy” while clutching my shirt, I instantly melted. I even asked my husband, “If we divorce, can I keep our son?” My husband: “???” When my family’s company ran into trouble, my father didn’t hesitate to arrange my marriage to a successful businessman who already had a son. Of course, I was thrilled about this. After all, I was a committed bachelorette. If he already had a son, I wouldn’t have to worry about having kids in the future. Plus, he was a workaholic who never had time for his son. The boy was mostly raised by nannies. I figured I could just coast through life. My husband was a big CEO, so I wouldn’t even need to take care of the kid. The wedding was a small, simple affair without many guests. I didn’t see the child there either. True to form, my workaholic husband left for the office right after the ceremony. As he was leaving, he said, “I’ll be busy at work for the next few days.” “Ethan is already at home. Get to know him when you get back.” Ethan Quinn. That was my stepson’s name. My parents were divorced and I wasn’t close to my father. I didn’t take much when I left home – just a necklace pendant. “Mrs. Quinn, young Master Ethan is waiting for you in the living room,” the housekeeper cheerfully informed me as soon as I walked in. Ugh… was he going to try to intimidate me already? Whatever, I could handle a little kid. How scary could he be? But… Who was this adorable little dumpling sitting on the sofa?! So tiny! So cute! So squishy! While I was standing there stunned, the little dumpling toddled over to me. In his sweet little voice, he said: “Miss… Wilson, this is… a gift… for you.” It was a pink teddy bear. Even though the bear was bigger than him, he was still trying his best to hold it out to me. Despite this being our first meeting, he was so friendly towards me. I was incredibly touched and quickly took the teddy bear. Then I crouched down and gently held his chubby little hands. “Wow! Thank you so much, sweetie! I love it! Your name is Ethan, right? I’m your new mommy. No need to be so formal – we’re family now. You can call me Mommy if you’d like.” Oh my gosh, he was so cute! I just wanted to hug him! That jerk of a husband of mine was truly heartless to neglect such an adorable boy. My poor son had it so rough! Yep, from now on, he was my own son! The little dumpling seemed surprised by what I said. His tiny body trembled slightly and his chubby cheeks turned bright red. He nervously gripped the hem of his shirt and shyly called out: “Mo…mmy?” After saying it, he ducked his head in embarrassment, peeking up at me now and then. Oh my goodness! Forget about the dad – this son was all mine now!! I cleared my throat and gave a solemn “Mm-hmm.” Then I turned to the housekeeper who had been standing nearby and said, “I’ll take care of the child from here. You can go about your business.” “Very well, Mrs. Quinn.” This feeling was absolutely amazing! I tried to contain my excitement and act nonchalant as I gently scooped up the little dumpling. Then, with Ethan in one arm and the teddy bear in the other, I headed upstairs. I’d been to the house a few times before the wedding, so I was familiar with the general layout. My husband really lived up to his big shot status – a six-story mansion with three elevators and two small gardens. Even the decor was grand and impressive. I brought Ethan to the room Nathan had prepared for me and placed the teddy bear next to the pillow. “Ethan, I’m sorry I didn’t have a gift prepared for you. But this necklace pendant is very important to me. Would you like to keep it safe for Mommy?” “I’ll look at it every day,” he promised solemnly. I fastened it around his neck and he looked so happy. “How about you sleep with Mommy tonight, and then tomorrow I’ll take you to preschool? Is that okay?” I asked, keeping my voice soft and gentle. If my friends could see how sweet I was being, they’d probably think I’d been possessed or something. “Okay,” came his soft reply. So adorable. I was lost in my own thoughts and didn’t notice the brief flicker of tension that crossed the little dumpling’s cherubic face. That evening… “…And so the little fox and his mommy lived happily ever after.” After finishing the story, I looked down at the sleeping Ethan and quietly set the book aside. Just then… my phone started ringing loudly. I nearly dropped it in shock and quickly hung up. Hearing Ethan’s steady, even breathing, I breathed a sigh of relief. I tiptoed out of the room and only called back once I was far enough away that he wouldn’t hear. “Amber Wilson, how dare you hang up on me!” the woman on the other end shouted indignantly. “I was putting my son to bed. And it’s my wedding night, for crying out loud. Why are you calling so late?” I said, exasperated. “Oh please, everyone knows your husband isn’t even home. He went straight to the office after the ceremony.” “Wait, what did you just say? Son? Since when do you have a son?” she exclaimed in shock. I frowned slightly. “My husband’s son. But he’s my son now too.” It made sense that she didn’t know. I only found out myself when I was told I’d be marrying Nathan. Nathan had kept the child’s existence very private. But now the news about the boy was public. “And keep your voice down, will you?” “I thought you hated kids. I know you’re all alone on your wedding night, so I called to cheer you up,” Sarah said brazenly. How was I supposed to know the little dumpling would be so adorable? I thought that to myself, but didn’t say it out loud. “What’s up?” I asked instead. “You have to come to the class reunion this Saturday. That little goody two-shoes is going to be there too. Remember – you better look smoking hot and put her in her place!” I could tell from her tone how angry Sarah was. Her expression was probably just as ugly. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Come on, it’s been years. I’ve forgotten all about that stuff.” She just huffed and didn’t say anything else. We chatted for a few more minutes before hanging up. I stood by the fifth floor window, staring blankly at the sky. Suddenly, I found myself thinking back to the summer after high school graduation. In high school, Sarah, Chloe and I were super close friends. At a group dinner after the SATs, the most popular guy in school suddenly confessed to me. Everyone was egging us on and making a big fuss. I was annoyed by all the commotion, so I turned him down point-blank. What I didn’t know was that Chloe had liked him for a long time and had been secretly pursuing him. Because of my rejection, the guy got upset and started dating Chloe instead out of spite. People said she only got to be with him because of me. Our relationship just kept getting worse after that. I thought once we went off to college, I’d never have to see her again. But to my surprise, even though we weren’t at the same school, she still went around spreading rumors about me and trying to make my life miserable. She and that guy didn’t last long though – he ended up cheating on her. I heard she’s going to be at the class reunion on Saturday too. “Ugh, what a pain!” I groaned, messing up my hair in frustration. But you know what? It’s been so long, maybe she’s forgotten all about it. Thinking that, I relaxed a bit. For the next few days, I just stayed home with Ethan. Other than dropping him off and picking him up from preschool each day, I worked on my fashion designs. I’m a designer for a famous brand, you know. I wasn’t about to give up my career just because I got married. That would be way too boring! Lately, Ethan has inspired so many new ideas. I’d be doing a disservice to my profession if I didn’t put them to use! On Saturday morning, I watched Ethan quietly playing with his blocks, a big smile spreading across my face. But then I thought about who I’d have to deal with that afternoon and couldn’t help but sigh. Why did I have to go to a class reunion instead of a PTA meeting? Noticing my mood, Ethan looked at me with concern. “Mommy, are you sad?” I gently pinched his chubby little cheek and said, “Mommy has to go to a party this afternoon. Can you play by yourself at home, sweetie?” After spending the past few days together, Ethan had grown much closer to me. “Can Ethan come too? Ethan will be very good,” he promised. Thinking about how she would be there, I started to refuse. His bright eyes immediately dimmed. “Okay, Ethan will wait for Mommy at home.” Oh no, the guilt was setting in. It should be fine to bring him along, right? I’d keep a close eye on him. Leaving him home alone would make me no better than his dad. “You can come, sweetie. Do you want to go with Mommy?” “Yes~” Seeing his eyes light up again, I breathed a sigh of relief. But why did I feel like I’d just been played? The reunion was being held in a private room at a restaurant. By the time we arrived, it had already started. “If it isn’t the goddess Amber! Why are you so late? We’ve been waiting for you!” someone called out as soon as we walked in. So much for quietly slipping into a corner. I smiled and waved hello, then saw Sarah frantically gesturing at me from across the room. I headed over, leading Ethan by the hand. At that point, everyone else stopped what they were doing. “Amber’s here! And who’s this little one…?” someone asked. I sat down and pulled Ethan onto my lap, frowning slightly at all the bottles of alcohol on the table. “My son,” I replied. Then I turned to a nearby waiter and asked quietly, “Do you have any drinks for children?” “Of course, of course.” After getting Ethan settled, I looked at Sarah. “Wipe that look off your face before you scare my son.” Sarah grinned mischievously. “Your son is so cute! Does he need a godmother?” She was clearly up to no good. “Get lost,” I said, giving her a disgusted look. We started eating and chatting. A little while later, I smelled an overpowering wave of perfume. The next second, Ethan sneezed. At the same time, a familiar voice rang out: “Amber, I heard you recently married a man with a child. Are you that desperate? Don’t tell me you’re…” She trailed off, but I knew what she was implying. “Chloe John, who the hell do you think you’re insulting?!” Sarah’s temper instantly flared up and she glared furiously at Chloe.

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During the pandemic, my crush lost his job. After hanging up the phone, I rushed to his apartment complex that night. The power was out in his unit, and he was drinking alone in the dark living room. I hugged him tightly in the darkness and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll always be here for you!” That night, we crossed a line. The next morning, I snuggled up to my crush and called out his name affectionately: “Ethan.” A deep male voice breathed into my ear and asked, “Who’s Ethan?” My heart skipped a beat as I realized the voice sounded different! I opened my eyes to a face completely unlike Ethan’s. Frightened, I quickly covered myself with the blanket and exclaimed, “Who are you?!” He gave me a meaningful look, smiling like a mischievous devil, and asked while playing with my hair: “Last night, you snuck into my place while I was drunk, hugging and kissing me, and now you’re asking who I am, hmm?” I stared into those dangerous fox-like eyes, trying hard to control my emotions as I recalled everything that happened last night. During the peak of the pandemic, Ethan’s company had layoffs, and he lost his job. He lived in a high-risk area. To comfort him, I took a cab to his apartment complex that night. Even if it meant being quarantined together, I wanted to be there for him during this difficult time. When I reached his door, the power was out, and he was drinking alone in the dark. He hugged me tightly in the darkness. I thought my crush of seven years had finally reciprocated my feelings, so I boldly kissed him. He hesitated for a moment but didn’t pull away, so I assumed he had accepted me. Now that I think about it, did I get the wrong apartment number? “Who are you?” I asked again. Hearing this, the man suddenly flipped me over, pinning me beneath him. He bit my lip lightly and said, “Remember this: my name is Adrian.”

In a flash, my mind went blank, and I could only push him away. The soreness in my body reminded me of everything that had happened last night. I lifted the blanket, but remembering the man next to me, I quickly covered myself again. He lay there, half-exposed, and said with interest, “Don’t bother covering up. I’ve already seen everything.” Oh no, I had lost my precious first time to this devilishly handsome stranger! Heartbroken, I picked up my crumpled clothes from the floor. My blouse was left with only one button, clearly unwearable. He kindly offered, “Want to borrow something?” “You have women’s clothes?” I asked in return. He replied calmly, “No, but I can lend you a shirt.” I thought to myself, “…” How am I supposed to face Ethan later wearing another man’s clothes? “No need,” I declined. As I was about to get off the bed wrapped in the blanket to find my coat, I accidentally exposed him completely. My face turned red instantly. Seeing a man’s body for the first time made my heart race. I didn’t know whether to drop the blanket or pull it away. He good-naturedly handed me his outer shirt. After taking it, I threw off the blanket and hid in the bathroom.

As soon as I entered, just about to change clothes, he followed me in. I, barely covered, startled like a frightened bird, “What are you doing?!” He handed me my phone. Seeing it was Ethan calling, I snatched it from his hand, feeling guilty. Ethan’s hoarse voice came through the phone: “Where are you?” “I…” I glanced at the man who had politely closed the door, my expression complicated, not knowing how to respond. He seemed to lose patience: “Never mind, don’t come over.” “Why?” I asked. “I’ve got a bit of a cold. What if I infect you?” So he was concerned about me. My guilt instantly doubled. “Um… where exactly do you live? I think I got the wrong apartment number,” I said. “You came to my complex?” he asked. “Yeah,” I replied, blushing. There was silence on the phone for a moment, then he said in an extremely unnatural tone: “Why don’t you go back home? If you leave now, you can still make it!” I said worriedly, “How can I do that? You’re sick, I can’t leave you alone. What’s your apartment number? I’ll… I’ll go to the store first, then come find you.” After I finished speaking, Ethan became anxious too: “I’m fine, really. My uncle just got back from abroad, he can take care of me!” So the sickness was a lie, he just didn’t want to see me. Holding the phone, my head felt a bit heavy: “So, last night when you said you wanted to see me, that was…?” Seeing that I hadn’t hung up, he said somewhat exasperatedly: “Vivian, let’s just say I was drunk last night, I was talking nonsense… You really don’t need to come over!”

I hung up the phone, feeling dejected. I had pursued him for seven years. So I took time off work and came here despite everything, all because of some drunken nonsense? Well, he was right about one thing – I really didn’t need to go over there anymore. I washed my face to calm myself down, then tied the shirt I was wearing into a big bow at the waist. I put on my jeans and coat, carefully checked myself in the mirror, and found that nothing looked out of place from the outside. When I came out, the man was sitting on the sofa drinking coffee. He glanced at his phone and said casually: “Looks like someone was a bit presumptuous.” I rolled my eyes at him. Eavesdropping is eavesdropping, no need to act all proper. “Sorry, I got the wrong apartment. I’ll be going now.” He put down his phone and asked me: “Is my place a hotel? You come and go as you please?” I snapped back irritably: “What else do you want?” Should I stay and take responsibility? From the looks of his place, he seemed quite well-off, and he didn’t look like someone who couldn’t find a girlfriend. If he didn’t mind, I could make do. Right now, I had everything except a man and money. As we stood at an impasse in the living room, the doorbell broke the awkward atmosphere. I opened the door reflexively. A community worker came in and said that due to the pandemic, the entire building was being locked down, and they hoped we would cooperate with the quarantine. I agreed repeatedly, of course we wouldn’t cause trouble for others. Wait a minute, quarantine… that means I can’t leave, and I have to be quarantined here with this man for two weeks? I suddenly turned back to look at the man behind me, who had an amused expression, and asked stiffly: “So, what was it you wanted again?” This time, I was genuinely asking, not challenging. “Can you cook?” he asked. I nodded: “Yes!” When in Rome, do as the Romans do. I at least had that much sense. Besides, judging by his immaculate hands, he didn’t look like someone who could cook. Who knows if what he made would be edible? There were only the two of us here, so who else would cook?

After entering the kitchen, I washed my hands first, then skillfully opened the refrigerator, all in one smooth motion. The most common ingredients often only require the simplest cooking. A few minutes later, I placed two bowls of instant noodles on the dining table. When he smelled the aroma, he walked over with a look of disdain, “Is this what you eat for breakfast?” “What do you eat then?” I asked. Breakfast time is usually rushed, which working person would specially get up to cook nowadays? He stared at the two bowls of instant noodles and sighed: “Never mind, go sit on the sofa and watch some TV for a while.” So, I was banished from the kitchen area to the sofa zone. While watching TV, I kept sneaking glances at the kitchen. He complained my food wasn’t nutritious, so I wanted to see what delicious meal this pampered young master could whip up. As I was chatting with my roommate on my phone, I suddenly heard rapid footsteps coming from upstairs. My impression of the refined Ethan was shattered as he bounded down the stairs in a yellow pajamas, looking like a giant rubber duck with wings. “Uncle, I’m up!” he called out. I jolted up from the sofa, “E-Ethan?!” He looked at me in surprise, clearly not expecting to find me in his living room. “Vivian, why are you here?” he asked, bewildered.

“I…” I stared at Adrian, who was cooking in the kitchen, at a loss for words. Ethan came up to me and asked in a low voice: “Didn’t I tell you not to come?” Noticing his accusatory tone, I retorted: “Weren’t you supposed to have a cold?” Is this how someone with a cold acts? Just then, a deep male voice came from behind: “Ethan, is that what you’re calling yourself now?” I turned around to see Adrian placing two plates of toast and eggs on the table. This didn’t seem like his usual style, but his movements showed no signs of awkwardness. The way he set down the plates reminded me of my boss placing documents on my desk to assign tasks. At this moment, he had shed his earlier devilish demeanor and looked quite serious, very much like an elder questioning a child in the family. Sure enough, Ethan fidgeted in front of him and said: “Uncle… I’m all grown up now, it’s embarrassing to be called Ethan. My colleagues all call me Ian now!” Adrian snorted lightly: “No wonder your mom couldn’t find you at your company for half a month.” Ethan looked somewhat troubled. He introduced me to Adrian: “This is my uncle.” Then he explained to Adrian, “Her name is Vivian, um… my college classmate.” Anyone could hear the dismissive tone in his voice; he clearly wasn’t very welcoming of my sudden appearance. Just as I was wondering how to salvage the situation, Adrian nodded and inexplicably said: “Alright, let’s eat.” “Unc-” The word “uncle” got stuck in my throat. I didn’t know whether to say it or not, because at that moment, only one thought was running through my mind. Last night, while my crush was asleep, I had slept with his uncle downstairs???

Just as I was wondering what to say, I heard Ethan ask me: “Why are you still wearing your coat indoors? Aren’t you hot?” “I…” How could I take it off without him seeing that I was wearing his uncle’s shirt while we ate? I tried hard to come up with an excuse: “I’m… not hot. I like wearing thick clothes.” As if! Ethan glanced at the air conditioner suspiciously: “But it’s 77 degrees in here. Are you really not hot?” I replied: “It’s fine.” Mom, I can now lie with a straight face. At this point, I thought I heard Adrian snicker. My cheeks instantly felt like they were on fire. I pretended to go wash my hands to escape further questioning. I stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom for a while, feeling like the inside and outside of the bathroom were two different worlds. The thought of the two men outside made me feel like I was sitting on pins and needles. If we stayed together like this, something was bound to go wrong. If only I could talk to the community workers and ask them to quarantine me somewhere else. Just as this thought crossed my mind, I heard someone knocking on the door outside. I turned my head and asked, “Who is it?” “Come out,” came Adrian’s calm voice. Had he come to hurry me to eat so quickly? I said nervously, “What for?” “To wash my hands.” “…” I had no choice but to turn the doorknob. I was immediately met with a handsome face. My heart started racing as I looked into his fox-like eyes that seemed to be smiling yet not. I just wanted to quickly get away, so I stumbled out, bumping into the doorframe. There were only two breakfast plates on the table. Ethan asked me, “Can you cook?” Feeling guilty, I nodded obediently: “Yes, what would you like?” I can look it up online and try to make it. At this point, Adrian had finished washing his hands and came out. He directly pushed his plate in front of me and said: “You eat mine.” Ethan looked at us oddly. Adrian had already pulled the other plate of breakfast towards himself and said calmly: “If you want to eat, go make it yourself in the kitchen.” Ethan immediately pouted in disappointment: “Uncle, I don’t know how to make breakfast. How about…” Adrian: “There are two more cups of instant noodles here. You can take those.” Ethan glanced at the two cups of instant noodles forgotten in the corner with a look of reluctant acceptance. He grudgingly picked up both cups, muttering: “It’s so embarrassing to eat this for breakfast.”

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Ten years after the divorce, my scumbag dad showed up with his three kids, wanting to remarry my mom. He had the audacity to demand our house in the good school district, take over our restaurant, and even asked me to hand over my social media account with millions of followers to my stepsister… My mom, the queen of sass, rolled her eyes and said, “An old dog trying to learn new tricks? Dream on, you shriveled up prune.” It was past midnight when my scumbag dad found us. Mom and I had just finished a long shift at our restaurant. “What are you two doing out so late?” he scolded, his face twisted with disapproval. Mom and I rolled our eyes in perfect sync. Ten years ago, we agreed to never see each other again. Now he’s suddenly here acting like he has the right to question us? Who does he think he is? “Honey, do you know why Mr. Johnson lived to be a hundred?” Mom asked me loudly. I replied, “Because he minded his own business.” Mom nodded approvingly and took my hand, walking right past him. “Sophia, we need to talk,” Brian demanded, grabbing Mom’s arm. I instinctively pulled Mom behind me and glared at him. “Don’t you dare touch her, or I’ll knock your head sideways!” Ten years ago, I was too small to stop him from hitting Mom. Now, I’m a black belt in Muay Thai. One hook punch past his ear would make his head ring for days. Twisting his head sideways wasn’t just an empty threat. Brian flinched at the speed of my punch, then growled, “This is adult business. Don’t interfere! You have no manners!” I coldly replied, “My dad died young. Please excuse me.” “You little brat!” He raised his hand, but Mom caught his wrist in a vice-like grip. Years of alcohol and debauchery had made him weak. With two quick twists, he was howling in pain. Mom tossed his arm aside, her face expressionless. “If you don’t want a beating, get lost. Stop barking like a dog and disturbing the neighbors!” “You’re still so vulgar!” Brian looked at us with disgust, then gritted his teeth. “Fine, I won’t argue with you now.” “I’m free tomorrow. Let’s go to the registry office and remarry.” Mom looked at him in disbelief. “Have you lost your mind?” I handed him a business card. “Top psychiatrist. Mention my name for a 20% discount. You’re welcome.” Brian’s face turned from red to purple. Finally, he looked at Mom with disdain: “Back then, you were begging me not to divorce you. Now that I’m willing to come back, what more do you want?” Right, Mom used to be so love-blind. She married Brian without a dowry or even a wedding. Two months after the wedding, Brian left for a long-term construction project. For over a decade, he barely came home, leaving Mom to struggle alone with the family. When Mom was pregnant with twins, she had to borrow money from friends for the hospital bills. During her postpartum recovery, she couldn’t even afford a decent meal. Meanwhile, Brian made up excuses about not being able to come back, when in reality, he was starting a new family with his mistress. Mom looked him up and down, then burst out laughing: “Why would I want to remarry you? For your beer belly? Your receding hairline? Or maybe for those jowls that could render enough lard to fry a dozen donuts?” “Don’t you have a mirror at home? Or at least a toilet bowl? Take a good look at yourself when you pee, for God’s sake.” Brian had always thought highly of himself. Mom’s tirade left him fuming. Two buttons on his shirt popped open, revealing a mound of quivering flesh. Oh, being the considerate person I am, I handed him another business card: “How about a gym membership? Mention my name, and you’ll get three free trial sessions.” Before he could react, I pulled Mom into our building and slammed the door in his face. Brian started kicking the door furiously. “Open up!” I wasn’t going to let him get away with this. I called the security office right in front of him: “Yes, there’s a flasher at Building 7, Unit 3 entrance. Oh my, he’s banging on the door now. Please hurry!” After hanging up, seeing he still wouldn’t leave, I smiled sweetly and asked, “Uncle, do you think security isn’t enough? Should I call the police too?” “Zoey, I’m your father!” Brian roared, his face red with anger. “Sorry, uncle, you’ve got the wrong person. I’m Zoey Paul.” “Paul as in my mom’s surname, and Zoey as in ‘my dad died early’, hehe.” Late that night, I paid triple the usual rate to have someone investigate Brian’s recent situation. Soon after, Mom came to my room, hugging her turtle-shell pillow. On the surface, she might be the beautiful owner of a popular restaurant, but behind the scenes, she’s the second-in-command of a billion-dollar food empire. Yet, whenever something’s troubling her, she still likes to come to me for comfort. My heart sank. She couldn’t be love-blind again, could she? What was I thinking? How could that dried-up old prune steal her heart? “Mom, forget it. I’d rather you go abroad and marry Aunt Tanya, giving me another mom, than ever accept Brian as my dad!” I shouted preemptively, then buried my head under the covers. Out of sight, out of mind! “What nonsense are you talking about?” Mom pulled me out from under the covers and showed me her phone messages. Apparently, Brian had gotten hold of Mom’s number somehow and sent her a message. It was an ultrasound image. The message read: This is Tony’s child. Five months along, it’s a boy. Can you bear to let your grandson grow up without a grandmother? Seeing this message, I was stunned. I didn’t know what to say. Tony is my twin brother. Mom raised us both single-handedly. Our grandparents never approved of Mom and were always stingy. They treated me poorly, and even Tony, their grandson, wasn’t much better off. During the divorce, Grandma pushed me away, saying, “Tony is our grandson, he has to stay. Zoey, you can go with your mother. We don’t need a granddaughter.” Grandpa even warned Mom, “You didn’t bring much of value when you married into our family. If you dare to take anything from our Lee family besides Zoey, we’ll call the police.” Mom didn’t ask for anything, but to take Tony with her, she was willing to go to court. But on the day of the court’s decision, Tony chose to stay with Brian. Even when Mom was slapped twice by Brian in public, even when I was thrown out and fell at the feet of his mistress and her daughter. He remained indifferent, just coldly turning his face away. I don’t hate Brian and those other demons anymore, but I still hate Tony. He protected me as we grew up and said he would always protect me and Mom. But he broke his promise. I pouted and said sarcastically, “Well, well, a free grandson. Are you tempted?” “Get lost!” Mom smacked my forehead. Finally, she said thoughtfully, “I just feel like that old scumbag is up to something, using both the carrot and the stick.” “Back then, even when he was cyberbullied so badly, he insisted on staying with his mistress. Why is he suddenly coming back to remarry me?” “Could it be because Zack recently made our restaurant famous, and he’s eyeing our business?” Zack is Aunt Tanya’s only son. He’d been hovering around the D-list in the entertainment industry for years, but this year he suddenly became famous with a drama series. As a result, our restaurant became a hotspot for fans, business boomed, and we frequently trended on social media. Brian’s sudden appearance was indeed likely because of this. A few hours later, we had our answer. Because the money was well spent, not only did they thoroughly investigate Brian, but they also threw in two gigabytes of juicy details about the people around him. From the information, the reason Brian insisted on remarrying Mom was simple: he was broke. A few months ago, his business failed, leaving him deeply in debt. His mistress also divorced him. As a devoted sugar daddy, he transferred his remaining car and house to his mistress. This doesn’t look like a real separation, but rather a fake divorce to protect the mistress and her daughter. During this time, Brian and Tony, the newlyweds, were renting a place to live. Their living expenses depended entirely on Tony’s income. Even though they were struggling, he still insisted on giving monthly child support to his mistress and her daughter. He even borrowed several hundred thousand in high-interest loans under Tony’s name, but this money couldn’t satisfy that mother-daughter pair for long. To make a comeback, he hooked up with someone running an illegal factory. Now, all he wanted was to raise some investment capital to join in producing and selling counterfeit products. Seeing this, my eyes were already filled with anger: “His reason for seeking remarriage isn’t just for money. He probably wants to use us as scapegoats when things go south.” Mom angrily slammed the mouse, cursing, “This black-hearted, rotten bastard! I’d like to see if he can swindle money from me, or if I’ll send him to rot in jail!” Saying this, she pulled Brian’s contact out of various blacklists and posted a moment on social media to bait him. “[Heart][Kiss] My daughter is so thoughtful, this year’s birthday gift is a beautiful ice blue Maserati!!! In three days, she’s even throwing me a birthday party at the Starlight Century. Everyone, come join us!!!” The accompanying photo was of her girlish pink Maserati. However, this car was actually a Women’s Day gift from Aunt Tanya this year. Soon enough, we saw Brian quietly like the post. He even left a comment saying: Honey, I’ll bring the kids to celebrate your birthday. Wait for me! Mom snorted disdainfully: “He really dares to come. Well, I’ll have to teach him a lesson first!” Early in the morning, Brian called to exchange pleasantries. Mom put him on speakerphone, lazily responding to his chatter. Brian was talking enthusiastically on the other end: “Your birthday is a big deal. I’m planning to bring the kids to celebrate with you. At our age, what we value most is family gatherings. Without your son and daughter-in-law there, your birthday would feel incomplete, wouldn’t it?” “I’m touched that you still remember my birthday,” Mom said sarcastically. “Of course, after all, we were married for so many years. I still care about you very much.” I felt a surge of anger rising in my chest. The old scumbag clearly never cared about Mom. Mom’s birthday wasn’t in three days; it was actually the anniversary of her divorce. In previous years, we would have a small gathering with Aunt Tanya and her son on that day, celebrating Mom’s new lease on life. This year, we were planning a big celebration just to lure him into our trap. On the phone, Brian said ingratiatingly that he was at the mall choosing a gift for Mom, asking if she had any preferences. Mom waved her hand grandly and said, “You really want to give a gift? How about the new Hermès bag? Anything else would be embarrassing in front of my girlfriends.” “…Alright.” I could hear Brian’s sharp intake of breath through the phone. Heh, you can’t catch a wolf without using a lamb as bait. He brought this on himself. Three days later, Mom’s “birthday party” was held as scheduled. On the way, Brian called Mom on FaceTime. “Suisuisui,” Brian suddenly called out affectionately. Mom shuddered, almost dropping her phone. I tried to hold back my laughter. That voice was indeed sickeningly sweet, enough to make me want to throw up the lunch I had earlier. “Suisui, why aren’t you saying anything?” Mom coughed and replied coldly, “If you have something to say, say it. If not, I’m hanging up.” “I do, I do,” Brian said urgently. “Mia is such a thoughtful child. When she heard about your birthday, she prepared a song to sing and play for you…” He really had the nerve to bring that up. Wasn’t he deliberately trying to provoke us? Mia is his daughter with his mistress. Back then, outside the court, when I was thrown by Brian and fell at her feet. She wore delicate little leather shoes and rubbed my face with the sole of her shoe, saying with disgust, “Get away, you dirty thing. You almost dirtied my shoes.” “You think Dad really wanted Tony? He just couldn’t bear for my mom to have a second child. Hmph, Dad said that even if he’s a son, I’ll be the one to inherit everything in the future.” Mom was silent for a moment, then said to him, “Don’t bring your dirty, stinking things to me.” Brian was clearly unhappy. But he still said with a thick skin, “How could that be? Mia told me that if we remarry, you’ll be her only mom in the future. And she plays the piano so well…” “Good eye, she thinks I’m better than her mom, huh?” Mom chuckled. “Fine, bring her along then. It’s just an extra set of chopsticks.” Only then did he hang up, satisfied. We had just arrived at the hotel when Brian’s family of four followed closely behind. Brian was dressed in a suit with a red rose pinned to his chest, while Mia clung to his arm, wearing a off-shoulder cocktail dress, her makeup exquisite and alluring. Clearly, they came prepared. Behind them, as pale as her dress, was a woman carefully walking with both hands on her slightly swollen belly, like a fragile white flower. Tony walked beside the white flower, tenderly supporting her waist, his whole being radiating fatherly love. He probably didn’t know yet that the child in the white flower’s belly wasn’t his at all. He was purely a naive cuckold. I couldn’t help but glance a few more times at Tony’s head, but he was oblivious, seemingly focused entirely on his newlywed wife. “Suisui! I’ve prepared a surprise for you later, you’ll definitely love it,” Brian greeted enthusiastically. “Mom, happy birthday~” Mia called out with a sweet smile. Mom didn’t give her a friendly look, but she wasn’t bothered. She turned and gave me a sickeningly sweet hug: “Sister, long time no see~” I forced a smile: “Long time no see, you’re still the same as before.” Still thick-skinned as ever, truly her mother’s daughter. At this moment, Brian pulled Tony and his wife in front of Mom. “This is Tony’s wife, her name is Chloe.” The white flower took out a box from her handbag and handed it to Mom: “Mom, this is a key chain I embroidered for you by hand. I hope you like it…” She held out the box reverently, displaying her scarred and slightly bleeding fingertips for us to see. She looked at Mom with a timid gaze, as if Mom not accepting it would be a grave sin. It was… quite inauspicious. I accepted it on Mom’s behalf and handed it to the reception desk: “Note this down, Brian Lee, gift of one key chain.” The receptionist repeated loudly: “Thank you, Mr. Brian Lee, for your generous gift of one key chain!” The smile on Brian’s face instantly froze. Tony’s expression also became inscrutable. Only Mia immediately supported the swaying white flower, looking at me disapprovingly: “Sister, even if you despise sister-in-law’s humble gift, you shouldn’t humiliate her like this. She’s pregnant, carrying your little nephew!” “Alright, the thought counts. Let’s go in,” Mom interrupted impatiently, pulling me into the venue. Mia scurried after us, chirping away: “Mom, where’s the piano? Can I try it out first?” “Are there many important people here today? I must perform well~” I kindly pointed her towards the stage, and she fluttered through the crowd like a butterfly. Soon, the opening notes of “The Wedding Song” rang out from the stage, attracting the attention of all the guests. Accompanied by the music, Brian walked onto the stage, holding a microphone and reciting a heartfelt speech. He kept talking about how he never forgot Mom and wanted to rekindle their relationship. “Sophia, I still love you.” “Twenty years ago, I couldn’t give you a proper proposal. Today, I want to make it up to you.” With that, Brian knelt down on the stage, holding out a ring box towards Mom: “Will you marry me again?”

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