Author: Momo Chan

1 Three years ago, my vocal cords were destroyed. My wife Audrey learned exactly three signs: Eat. Sleep. Stop throwing a fit. When I asked her to learn more, she frowned. “I sit through back-to-back meetings, Gabe. Am I supposed to come home and perform charades for you? You’re not completely mute. Just read my lips.” So I spent three years desperately reading her lips. Miss a word, she claimed I was giving her the silent treatment. Misread one, she lost patience. Then the lead male streamer at her agency injured his wrist. Audrey paused her own schedule for a month to keep him company. On his comeback stream, she sat beside him as a guest, communicating entirely in flawless sign language, not a single mistake. Live comments swooned. Audrey smiled at the camera and signed, Because I want the person who matters most to understand me at all times. Backstage, I confronted her. She scrolled her phone. “His wrist is broken, Gabe. He’s vulnerable. If I didn’t learn it for him, who would? You’ve been used to your condition for years. Are you seriously throwing a tantrum over a sick man?” I stared at her hands. Those were the same hands I’d held, teaching her I miss you, Hold me, Welcome home. She never learned them. Only now did I realize my language was never too difficult. Her hands, like her heart, were simply silent whenever they faced me. I removed my speech amplifier and set it inside its box. The lingering applause from the streaming hall instantly died down into total silence. Audrey glanced over, her thumbs still flicking across her screen. “What are you pouting about now? Let’s talk at home. Everyone is waiting to celebrate.” I watched the shape of her lips. “Was that line about ‘the person who matters most’ just for show too?” “Of course it was. What else would it be?” She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. “We give the viewers whatever they want to see. You used to work in operations, shouldn’t you know how this works?” Tristan walked out of the dressing room with a black brace wrapped around his wrist. He awkwardly raised his hands to sign, Don’t misunderstand, man. Ms. Audrey was just helping me pull off my comeback. His sign for “man” was slightly off, positioning his hand a bit too high, making it look closer to “uncle.” I had warned Audrey about that specific mistake before, telling her that the angle could easily cause confusion. Back then, she had yanked her hand away, telling me to stop obsessing over stupid details and making a big deal out of nothing. Yet right now, she gently cupped Tristan’s wrist, carefully adjusting his fingers. “Take it easy. Your wrist hasn’t fully healed yet. Your speed will come back slowly.” Her voice was dripping with a tenderness I had never experienced. The stage coordinator chuckled under his breath. “Looks like Ms. Audrey’s month off wasn’t wasted. She spots every single mistake Tristan makes.” The broadcast monitor nearby was still running, comments piling over each other in a relentless stream. She’s so gentle when she corrects his hands! My heart is melting! This is way better than any romance drama. Am I the only one who noticed the way she looked toward the back row at the end? Something felt totally off. That last comment was quickly buried under a flood of fan chants. I pulled a roll of flesh-colored joint tape from my bag and set it on the desk. “Take this back.” It was a specialized training tape I had designed during my own vocal rehabilitation. Each finger joint had a tiny blue alignment dot printed on it to help calibrate the precise angles of sign language. Three years ago, I had carefully placed those patches on Audrey’s hands, trying to teach her how to sign Welcome home forty-seven times. She complained the adhesive was too sticky, tossed the roll into a drawer, and never touched it again. Now, all ten of Tristan’s fingers were wrapped in identical blue-dotted tape. Audrey locked her phone screen, her voice dropping a notch. “It’s just a roll of tape, Gabe. Do you really have to pick a fight over every little thing right here?” “I’m not picking a fight.” I snapped the amplifier case shut. “Now that you’ve learned it all, I don’t need to keep a backup roll anymore.” She froze for a split second, then reached out to grab the strap of my duffel bag. “After the dinner, I’ll drive you home. Stop pulling a face in public.” Tristan suddenly bent over with a raspy cough. Audrey instantly let go of my bag, rushing over to press a glass of warm water to his lips. He typed out a line on his phone and held it up for me to read: Bro, I took up a whole month of Ms. Audrey’s time. You’re not going to be petty over a basic work relationship, are you? I let out a faint smile. I typed back: I can accept it. I’ll accept giving her to you, too. Audrey’s face turned icy in an instant. “Gabe, keep your jealousy in check.” Tristan’s eyes welled up with tears. “Bro, we really are just working together. There’s nothing personal between us.” Audrey offered him a soothing pat on the head, but when she turned back to me, her eyes were filled with sheer exhaustion. “When are you ever going to grow up and be sensible like him?” In the past, I would have scrambled for my phone, typing frantically to explain myself, trying to tell her I wasn’t being dramatic, that I was just terrified of losing her. I would have begged for a single word of reassurance. Now, I simply closed my eyes and remained quiet. Seeing me shut down, Audrey’s expression softened slightly. “It’s Tristan’s first day back. We can’t ruin his mood tonight. Come on, let’s head to the private room.” I followed them inside. Someone pulled out a phone to shoot behind-the-scenes footage. Tristan naturally slid into the seat right beside Audrey, leaving the lonely chair by the door for me. The talent manager waved at me. “Oh, Gabe’s here too? Perfect! Help us take a photo of Tristan and Ms. Audrey, would you?” Audrey didn’t correct him. She simply unlocked her phone and handed it over. “Shoot in landscape mode. Don’t block the sponsor logos.” I took the phone. Through the lens, I watched her lean in close, carefully peeling off the joint tape from Tristan’s fingers. Suddenly, a push notification popped up on her screen from the streaming app. The title read: Tomorrow at 8 PM: TrisAudrey Sign Language Confession Special. The host of the event wasn’t Tristan. It was Audrey’s personal account. The very last shred of hope holding me together finally snapped. I handed the phone back to Audrey, the screen still glowing on the event page. She took a quick glance and explained calmly, “It’s a last-minute push from the brand. The comeback metrics were great, so they want us to ride the momentum tomorrow night.” “Does the marketing department not have any public accounts left?” My hands signed the words with rigid precision. “Why do you need to use your personal one?” Audrey poured warm water into Tristan’s glass. “A high-traffic account is meant to be used. If we get overly precious about separating work from personal life, how are we supposed to run a business?” The manager rushed in to smooth things over. “Don’t take it so seriously, man! Tomorrow night is mostly to promote accessibility streaming. Ms. Audrey is doing a good deed.” Tristan used his phone’s text-to-speech function, emitting a flat, mechanical male voice. “Bro knows sign language too. Why don’t you stay and give us some on-site coaching?” The room fell dead silent for a second before a few staff members chimed in with awkward laughs. “Hey, that’s actually a killer idea! The main husband coaching the screen couple? That’s instant viral traffic!” “Come on, man, be a team player. It’s all for the company.” “Tristan can’t speak right now anyway. It’s tough for him to carry a stream alone.” I clenched my fists under the table. “I have to be at the Hearing Impaired Center tomorrow night.” Audrey’s fork paused in midair. “That non-profit subtitle project? You still haven’t pulled out of that?” “I built that project from scratch. Why should I pull out?” “The board decided to hand it over to Tristan.” She dropped a peeled shrimp into Tristan’s bowl, her tone as detached as if she were discussing a routine quarterly report. “He has the traffic right now. He’s a much better fit than you.” I stared dead into her eyes. “That real-time captioning algorithm took me and my team two full years of testing to get approved.” “The technology belongs to the company. It doesn’t matter who promotes it.” Audrey wiped her fingers with a damp cloth. “It’s inconvenient for you to appear on camera anyway. Letting him represent the project saves us from having viewers pry into your vocal damage.” My fingernails bit deep into my palms. Tristan slid a tablet across the table to me. The workflow for tomorrow’s launch was already laid out. Under the Lead Designer column, my name had been crossed out. Tristan’s name sat in its place. He offered a soft, delicate sign. Bro, you should be happy that your project is finally getting the spotlight it deserves. I swiped to the last page. In the core algorithm documentation, even the subtle typos I had corrected late at night remained unchanged. Audrey pressed her hand over the tablet screen. “The schedule is set. Don’t cause a scene in front of outsiders. It looks pathetic.” I looked up, locking eyes with her. “You think I look pathetic?” She cast a quick glance toward Tristan and offered no answer. Behind us, a phone was broadcasting the dinner highlights live, with comments rolling across the screen like wild water. Who’s that guy sitting in the corner with the hearing device? Is he staff? He looks so bitter. Tristan just made his comeback and this guy is already acting like a diva. I heard the subtitle project was Tristan’s idea while he was bedridden! He’s such an inspiration! The manager chuckled and turned his phone camera right toward my face. “This is Mr. Gabe from our technical team. He’s a bit introverted, guys, so go easy on him!” In our three years of marriage, this was the very first time I had ever appeared on Audrey’s company streams. Not as her husband. But as “Mr. Gabe from tech.” I reached over, turned off the manager’s phone, and looked straight at Audrey. “You think introducing me like that is appropriate?” Audrey leaned back against her chair, her fingers tapping rhythmically against the wooden table. “What, do you want me to go public with our marriage so the internet can dissect your medical history? I’m trying to protect you.” “Fine.” I unclipped my staff badge and laid it flat on the tablet. “Give him the project. I won’t be coming tomorrow.” The tension in her brow instantly melted away, assuming I had finally come to my senses. “See? If you had just cooperated from the start, we wouldn’t have had a problem.” A cold, faint smirk pulled at the corner of my lips. He can have the project. And as for you… I don’t want you anymore either. Tristan raised his glass toward me, squeezing out a raspy, whispered phrase through his throat. “Thanks, bro.” I didn’t touch my glass. When the dinner wrapped up, Audrey had the driver take Tristan home while she walked with me to the parking garage. She reached into her coat pocket, pulled out a spare battery, and slipped it into my amplifier case. “I knew you’d forget to charge it today. I brought a spare.” My hand froze. But before I could even touch the case, a voice from behind us turned me stone cold. The stage coordinator trotted over. “Ms. Audrey, I’ve added the marriage sign to tomorrow night’s confession segment just like you asked.” Audrey spun around instantly to block the coordinator’s view, keeping her voice hushed. “We don’t need to discuss script details right now.” Sensing the suffocating atmosphere, the coordinator grabbed his gear and scurried away. I snapped the amplifier case shut with a harsh metallic click. “It’s just a staged couple. Do you really need to sign marriage?” “It’s just for show.” She pulled open the passenger car door for me. “Tristan just came back. He needs a viral highlight to secure his position. Don’t project your own feelings onto it.” “When I tried to teach you that exact sign three years ago, you told me it was bad luck.” Audrey’s hand tightened on the top of the car door, her face hardening. “Gabe, if you’re going to keep digging up old grievances from three years ago, how are we supposed to stay together?” I sat into the passenger seat and looked up at her calmly. “Then let’s not stay together.” She leaned down to pull the seatbelt across my chest, her thumb brushing against my collarbone. “Save your dramatic talk for home. Once tomorrow’s stream wraps up, I’ll take you out for dinner.” She was always like this. Every single time I brought up breaking up, she would throw out a promise of a meal she had no intention of keeping. She genuinely believed I would stand in the exact same spot, waiting for her forever. Except this time… I wouldn’t. The next day, the company set up the project’s launch event right inside the Hearing Impaired Center. By the time I arrived, a giant promotional poster was already standing at the entrance. Tristan’s face was plastered right in the center above the bold text: The Light-Bearer of the Silent World. Brooke, a junior colleague from my dev team, scurried over to intercept me. “Gabe… Ms. Audrey said your mental state hasn’t been great lately. She wants you to stay in the back and just handle text proofreading.” “I wrote every line of the core codebase. Why was I never notified about the launch event?” Brooke avoided my gaze, staring down at her shoes. “Tristan has a huge fanbase… The company needs his numbers. We didn’t have a choice.” Inside the main auditorium sat the hearing-impaired volunteers I had trained myself over the past two years. When they saw me walk in, a few stood up to offer me a seat, but the event director rushed past them, eagerly grabbing Tristan’s hands instead. “Mr. Tristan! Thank you so much for turning your personal tragedy into such a meaningful project. Our community needs public figures like you.” Tristan signed back effortlessly, It’s the least I could do. He was using the exact opening sequence I had recorded for our internal training modules, down to the precise micro-pauses between phrases. Audrey stood just below the stage, nodding at him with a proud smile. I walked straight up to the main display screen, reached out, and yanked the cable, cutting off the promotional video mid-play. “Mr. Tristan, do you even know the core logic behind real-time semantic compensation?” The media cameras in the room instantly whipped around, lenses focusing squarely on me. Tristan’s face drained of color. Before he could react, Audrey stepped up and grabbed my wrist tightly. “That’s enough, Gabe! You handle the tech, he handles the outreach. It’s a clear division of labor.” “My name isn’t even on the press release.” “It’s just a name! We can add it back later!” She released my hand, her tone turning frigid. “Stop acting like you can’t tolerate a sick man getting some credit.” The live chat on the screen exploded into a frenzy. Why is this guy causing trouble again? Tristan lost his voice and is still doing charity work, and this tech snob is trying to steal his thunder? Engineers love using technical jargon to bully people. Zero emotional intelligence. I turned my eyes to the team members I had pulled all-nighters with. Not a single one of them spoke up for me. Brooke even slid over, gently taking the master controller out of my hands. “Gabe… Ms. Audrey is letting you keep your job. Just step back, please.” When the event wrapped up, Tristan was swarmed by adoring fans. He grabbed my hand, pulling me into a photo. His fingers pressed deliberately hard against the faded surgical scar behind my speech device as he signed with a warm smile, Bro, let’s make peace. Camera flashes went off in rapid succession. The sharp pain made me flinch and turn my head away. Audrey’s hand came down heavily on my shoulder, pinning me in place. “Hold still until the photo is done. Don’t make things difficult for him.” Within minutes, the photo hit the top of the trending topics. The headline read: Tristan Embraces Jealous Colleague Who Tried to Steal Credit. I walked into the archival room, intending to retrieve my original experimental logs, only to find the cabinet lock had been replaced. On the desk lay an internal authorization agreement. The date stamped on it was three years ago… the exact day before Audrey and I registered our marriage. Below my digital signature, a single sentence was appended under the terms of use: All research assets transferred without compensation as joint marital property. Outside the door, Audrey’s sharp voice echoed down the hall. “Why hasn’t that old document been shredded yet?” I gripped the agreement tight. As I turned around, the doorknob slowly began to turn downward. I shoved the document deep into my folder. When Audrey pushed the door open, I was casually flipping through a stack of old test reports in the cabinet. She walked over and snatched the folder straight out of my hands. “These belong to the company now. If you need anything in the future, have Brooke email you a copy.” “Three years ago, you told me we needed to register our premarital assets so you could help me apply for R&D grants.” I looked into her eyes. “Was that a lie?” Audrey’s gaze flickered for a fraction of a second. “Legal handled the paperwork. I don’t remember the details. Why are you digging up ancient history?” “In tonight’s stream, are you going to announce Tristan as the sole founder?” “It’s just a temporary strategy.” She locked the filing cabinet with a sharp click. “Once his wrist recovers, we’ll slowly adjust the credits.” I nodded slowly. “And if I don’t agree?” Audrey reached up, checking the battery indicator on my speech device. Her voice softened back into a coaxing tone. “Gabe, the company’s cash flow is tight right now. Tristan’s traffic can save this entire project. Stop throwing a fit, alright?” It was the first time she had used that soft, affectionate tone with me in years. I raised my hand, almost touching the lapel of her tailored blazer, only to spot a silver badge pinned near her collar. It was the exclusive VIP emblem from Tristan’s streaming channel. “Fine.” I offered a faint, hollow smile. “I’ll be at the stream tonight.” Her face lit up with a relieved smile, her thumb quickly flashing the sign for Good boy. That afternoon, I snapped a clear photo of the authorization paper and emailed it to my attorney. Then, I logged into the server backend and exported the full timestamped record of the original source code. What Audrey didn’t know was that the entire system possessed a dual-key security protocol. The company had taken the program. But they could never take the master voice-print calibration key… which was permanently registered to my personal vocal rehab equipment. At eight o’clock sharp, the livestream went live. Tristan wore a crisp white shirt, with Audrey sitting right at his side. Both of them had blue-dotted alignment patches taped across their finger joints. The chat flooded the screen like an unstoppable tide. They’re finally in the same frame again! They can’t hear or speak, but they understand each other completely! This is the most romantic thing ever! I hope that tech guy doesn’t show up tonight to ruin the mood. The host asked Tristan to introduce the core concept. Tristan turned to the camera, signing with deep emotion, It was only after I lost my voice that I realized how desperately silent people need to be seen. Standing behind the main control console, I manually translated every single one of his signs into text on the screen. Nobody in the audience realized that every single word appearing on screen was being processed through my personal language model. Then came the confession segment. The host asked with a mischievous grin, “Ms. Audrey, are you willing to become Tristan’s voice forever?” Audrey signed I do first. Then, she crossed her hands over, executing the sign for Marriage. Subdued gasps and squeals erupted from the live crew behind the cameras. Tristan’s eyes turned red with tears as he gently pressed his palm against hers. The host seized the moment to press further. “We heard that Ms. Audrey learned sign language specifically for Tristan, and that these training patches hold a very special meaning to both of you?” Audrey’s eyes swept across the studio, catching sight of me standing alone in the very back row. She didn’t hesitate for even a second. Instead, she held up her hand, showing off the blue-dotted tape. “He designed these patches during his darkest times. I promised him that I would make sure his voice was heard by the entire world.” I reached over and slammed down the master record button on the control panel. Tristan smoothly opened the project’s official portal page. Under the founder slot, his name shone in bold, glowing letters. Audrey faced the camera, declaring proudly, “Starting tonight, this system is officially named VoxTristan, and all future proceeds will belong entirely to Tristan’s personal studio.” The system console flashed a red prompt on my screen, demanding final security key authorization. Audrey turned her head toward the back row, giving me an imperative sign: Confirm. I looked at the hand that had once refused to sign Welcome home for me. Slowly, I dragged my cursor over to the flashing red button on the screen. The very next second, a massive system alert hijacked the main livestream broadcast. WARNING: Ownership dispute detected. Executing public broadcast of original creator authentication video. The smile on Audrey’s face instantly shattered. She lunged forward, trying to yank the master power cord. I clicked play before she could reach it.

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1 I had spent two years chasing the deal, finally securing a multi-million-dollar contract with Mr. Henderson. But right when it came time to sign, the contract was nowhere to be found inside my briefcase. The meeting fell apart, and Mr. Henderson walked away in frustration. The company immediately stripped me of my promotion eligibility and revoked my annual performance bonus. When I walked out of the office building that evening, my closest friend, Gary, was waiting by the entrance. He held that thick stack of contract documents in his hand, casually waving it in front of my face. It was only later that I realized what happened. While I had stepped away to use the restroom right before the signing, Gary had slipped the documents straight out of my bag. “Looks like you failed your emergency reflex test again!” Gary chuckled. My girlfriend, Janie, stood beside him, her expression completely indifferent. “You still weren’t fully prepared, Simon. If you had built a proper contingency plan for unexpected situations, this wouldn’t have happened. Take it as a lesson.” I clenched my fists tight, my fingernails digging deep into my palms. Back in college, right before a major public speaking competition, Gary had secretly hidden my index cards, leaving me to freeze and look like an absolute fool in front of thousands of students and faculty. When we graduated, Gary hid my job application files, causing me to miss a prestigious corporate fast-track program. Just last month, I spent three straight days and two sleepless nights finishing a critical project proposal. At the absolute last minute, Gary yanked out my power cord, wiping my unsaved files and forcing me to rebuild everything from scratch. Every single time, Gary claimed he was just “training my adaptability under pressure.” And every single time, Janie stood firmly behind him, scolding me for not being prepared enough. I clutched the official transfer notice in my jacket pocket. Neither of them knew that because of this mistake, the company was exiling me to a remote branch in the rugged Northern territory. “Gary, do you have any idea how hard I worked for this contract?” My voice trembled, a suffocating ache spreading through my chest. “I followed Mr. Henderson for two whole years! When his mother was hospitalized, I spent two weeks sitting by her bedside taking care of her!” Seeing the look on my face, Gary’s cheerful demeanor wavered slightly. “Simon, why are you getting so worked up? I only did it to make you better. Remember when I hid your speech notes? After that, you learned to speak entirely off the cuff!” “And when I hid your application, you learned to always print three backup copies!” Janie stepped in, gently patting Gary’s arm to comfort him. “He’s put so much thought into helping you growth. We all see it.” She turned her head to look at me, her eyes filled with cold disappointment. “Simon, why can’t you show a little gratitude? Gary spends every day coming up with realistic scenarios to train your quick thinking, and all you do is blame him.” “Where is your conscience?” A bitter laugh nearly escaped my throat. “You two ruined my career, and I’m supposed to thank you for it?” “Janie, Gary… tell me, is that really how this works?” Gary opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Sensing she might be in the wrong, Janie reached over to take my hand. “Alright, stop being so petty.” “Gary and I only want what’s best for you. Let’s go get those jumbo garlic shrimp you love and blow off some steam.” Without waiting for my answer, the two of them dragged me straight into the restaurant. When picking the spice level, I mentioned I had mouth sores and couldn’t handle spicy food. Gary spoke up immediately, saying he wanted extra spicy, claiming anything less was completely tasteless. Without a second thought, Janie ordered the extra-spicy broth. When the platter arrived, I didn’t touch a single piece. Janie, on the other hand, meticulously peeled every single shrimp for Gary, removing the heads and shells before placing them neatly in a row on his plate. Gary dropped a peeled shrimp onto my plate. “Don’t be mad anymore, man. I’m sorry, okay?” Janie glanced over, her voice flat. “Gary, Simon knows how to peel his own food. Let him do it himself.” When I remained silent, her tone turned sharp with impatience. “Simon, we’ve already apologized and tried to make nice. If you’re going to keep pulling a bitter face, that’s on you.” That single sentence completely shattered whatever composure I had left. I stood up abruptly from the booth. “You two enjoy your meal. I’m leaving.” Back at my apartment, I gathered the contract documents that Gary had finally handed back. I tried calling Mr. Henderson’s assistant again and again, begging for one last chance to present. The only response I received was a firm, distant reply: Please stop calling. We’ve already signed with another firm. The formal transfer letter sat waiting in my email inbox. I stared at the glowing text over and over again. It was a done deal. In the past, to stay in this city, I had forced myself into a grueling industry I hated, pushing through every obstacle simply because Janie was here. But as I looked at the transfer order tonight, a strange wave of relief washed over me instead. A short while later, the front door opened, and Janie walked in holding a takeout bag. “I knew you didn’t eat back there, so I picked up your favorite shrimp wontons and garlic shrimp on the way home.” She set the bag down on the table. “Since you couldn’t eat the spicy broth, I was going to take you to a mild spot, but you walked out. Eat while it’s hot.” Janie opened the food container for me and gently pulled the contract papers out of my hands. “You’re off the clock, so eat your dinner and rest. Stop obsessing over work.” “You’re not a machine, Simon. Your health comes first.” She lifted a wonton with a spoon and fed it to me. The moment I tasted it, tears spilled uncontrollably down my face. She was the only person who remembered this exact recipe. The shop was nearly fifteen miles away across town, meaning she had driven way out of her way just to get it for me. “Silly boy, what are you crying for?” She smiled softly, wiping a tear from my cheek. “Your girl remembers what you like. The food at the other place was too heavy, so I made a special trip to your favorite spot.” I chewed the wonton, the familiar taste filling my mouth, mingled with the salty sting of my tears. “Janie… I might be transferred somewhere very far away…” I looked up, only to see Janie staring down at her phone screen, a bright smile on her face. “Hmm? What did you say?” “I said…” “Hold on a second,” she interrupted, grabbing her coat. “Gary just finished shopping and needs a ride home. Eat your dinner, okay? Be good!” The front door shut with a heavy thud, the sound piercing through my heart like a needle. I sat there waiting for hours. The hands on the clock crept past midnight, but Janie never returned. Just as I was about to dial her number, a text message from her popped up on my screen: Gary’s roommate is out of town tonight and he’s feeling anxious being alone. I’m going to stay until he falls asleep, then head back. I sat at the edge of the mattress, my back pressed against the cold wall, my eyes staring blankly at the dark bedroom doorway. When I was a child, my parents fought constantly. The sound of shattering china and heavy shoving was burned deep into my memory. Once, a jagged shard of porcelain flew across the room and sliced the top of my foot, blood soaking into my slipper. That night, I had huddled in the dark corner, terrified to move or make a sound, afraid that if they noticed me, their rage would turn on me instead. Ever since then, even the faintest noise late at night would send my nerves into a hyper-vigilant panic. I was terrified of turning off the lights or closing my eyes, afraid of being exposed in the dark. I used to force myself to stay awake until dawn before finally passing out, waking up with icy hands and a pounding headache. The doctor called it severe anxiety-induced insomnia. Until I met Janie. Back then, she had held me tight and promised that I would never be alone again. She swore that as long as she was breathing, she would never leave me waiting in the dark until sunrise. I had sobbed in her arms that night, feeling truly safe. And now, she was spending the night keeping Gary company. The desk lamp stayed lit all night long. I leaned against the headboard in a half-awake daze, my eyelids heavy as lead, yet the central nerve in my brain remained pulled taut, refusing to let me sleep. The clock on the wall spun around and around until five in the morning, when the front door latch finally clicked. Janie was back. My pillow was soaked through on one side. I turned my body over, keeping my back facing her. She slid into bed and wrapped her arms gently around my waist from behind. “I’m sorry, babe. I was afraid of waking you up when I finished, and it was so late, so I just crashed on Gary’s couch.” I stayed silent. But deep down, I knew that whatever we had was officially gone. Over the next two days, the company processed my reassignment paperwork. Because the Northern branch was so remote, there were extensive briefing materials to prepare. Yet right before the final review meeting, my prepared briefing folder vanished into thin air. The general manager lost his temper with me once again. “Simon, what is wrong with you?! How many times is this going to happen?” “After a massive blunder like last time, have you learned nothing at all?!” My mind immediately went to Gary. I stormed out of the office and drove straight to his apartment. When I pushed the door open, I found Janie sitting on his sofa, the two of them laughing together over coffee. I caught the tail end of Gary’s bragging voice: “I’m telling you, Simon only ever hides his stuff in a few predictable spots. I practically know his brain inside out by now!” “Name any item, and I can guess where he shoved it!” Janie offered a gentle smile, reaching out to lightly brush a strand of hair from Gary’s forehead. “Look at that clever little brain of yours. You’re so sharp!” Rage boiled over inside my chest. I stepped forward, pointing a shaking finger straight at them. “Have you two no shame at all? Building your entertainment on someone else’s suffering?!” I glared at Gary, letting every bit of pent-up anger pour out. “Gary, you are a despicable, vile coward!” Having never seen me lose my temper like this, Gary froze on the spot. A few seconds later, he squeezed out a pathetically meek tone. “Simon… how could you say that about me? I only did it to train your emergency reflexes!” “The better your quick thinking under pressure, the stronger your career will be!” As he spoke, two forced tears welled up in his eyes. Seeing Gary cry, Janie exploded like a lit fuse. “What is your problem, Simon?! Can’t you tell who’s actually on your side?!” “He’s done so much for you, and you say things that disgusting?!” “I have no idea what goes on in that head of yours. Apologize to Gary right now!” I stared directly into her eyes, my voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “I will never apologize. Not a single word.” “He doesn’t deserve it.” Without another word, I turned and walked out the door. Gary pulled on Janie’s sleeve with a tearful whine. “Go after him! Hurry up and catch him!” Janie let out a cold snort. “I am not going! He’s narrow-minded and ungrateful. Let him sit alone and think about what he did!” Out in the freezing wind, tears burst past my eyelids like a broken dam. My chest felt as if it were bursting apart, a sharp, suffocating pain radiating through my body. That afternoon, I received a phone call from my father. Ever since I started working, my father rarely reached out to me. But knowing I would soon be sent to the remote Northern outpost, I decided to visit home one last time. When I stepped through the front door, I saw Janie and Gary already seated around the dining table, chatting and laughing with my parents. The moment my father caught sight of me, his warm smile instantly vanished into a cold glare. “So you finally remembered you have a father?” “I thought you didn’t even recognize me anymore!” I kept my voice low. “Dad, what’s going on?” My father glared at me. “Are you really going to act like you don’t know what you did?!” “Gary is such a wonderful young man, spending his time coming up with ways to train your adaptability under pressure! Instead of showing some gratitude, you berate him!” “Have you forgotten how slow you were as a kid? You were so dense you couldn’t even work out basic two-digit math!” “If it weren’t for Gary and his family helping you along the way, you wouldn’t even have a job today!” My voice trembled with suppressed grief. “Dad… who is actually your son here?” “Do you have any idea how much damage they’ve done to my career?!” My father raised his voice even higher, cutting me off with a harsh shout. “Damage you?! What do you know, accusing people right and left?!” “You claim he’s sabotaging you… do you really think he has nothing better to do with his time?!” As my father berated me relentlessly, a subtle, smug smirk flickered across the corner of Gary’s eyes. Janie, however, looked slightly uncomfortable, her face darkening as she cast a hesitant glance at me, looking as if she wanted to say something but held back. The dinner ended in miserable silence. Late that night, Janie returned home long after I did, her expression dark with frustration. “I really don’t understand you, Simon. Why do you have to pick a fight with everyone who cares about you?!” “At dinner tonight, you hurt every single person in that room who loves you.” I kept my back turned to her, refusing to say a single word. I knew it was completely pointless. Early the next morning, I booked a one-way flight to the Northern territory. After packing a small duffel bag with a few essential personal belongings, I completed my final digital handovers with the regional branch. Without telling a single soul, I boarded the plane. Shortly after takeoff, the company’s internal employee group chat exploded. Dozens of high-resolution screenshots were posted, showing alleged evidence of me selling confidential corporate data to competitors. The documents clearly displayed my digital signature, along with detailed bank transfer records and account numbers. The chat went into absolute pandemonium. Simon looked so honest and down-to-earth! How could he do something like this behind our backs? He’s trying to ruin the company! Seriously! He made that massive mistake last time, and the boss gave him a transfer instead of firing him. How can someone be so ungrateful? Is he trying to drag us all down with him? We all have families to feed. If the company collapses, what are we supposed to do?! My department head tried calling me frantically, while my colleagues sent hundreds of unread messages: Simon, why are you doing this to us?! Reply immediately! It’s not too late to pull back, Simon! You’re young, don’t do something that ruins your life forever! Because I was mid-flight without cellular service, everyone assumed I had taken the money and fled the country. Gary was practically bursting with pride, showing off his phone screen to Janie. “Look at my new photo-editing skills! It looks a hundred percent legit!” “Unless a professional forensic team analyzes the metadata, no ordinary person could ever tell it’s fake!” His eyes gleamed with malicious excitement. “This is going to give Simon something to sweat over for a long time! Just thinking about his desperate, furious face makes me laugh!” Listening to his non-stop bragging, Janie didn’t smile this time. Her expression flickered between light and shadow. “Gary…” Gary stopped laughing and looked at her. A few seconds passed before Janie spoke up hesitantly. “I feel like… this might be going a bit too far this time. If the company can’t clear this up, it could actually involve law enforcement.” Gary’s face instantly dropped into a bitter scowl. “I knew it!” “Janie, you’re feeling sorry for Simon! You think I went too far, and you’re blaming me now, aren’t you?!” Janie quickly tried to appease him. “No, no, of course not! That’s not what I meant!” “I know you mean well! But you know how petty Simon can be. Even though his quick-thinking under pressure has improved a lot thanks to us, he doesn’t appreciate our efforts at all!” Gary crossed his arms, turning his shoulder to her. “You don’t need to make excuses for him. If you genuinely think I’m being cruel, fine! I’ll never bother helping him again!” Janie immediately pulled Gary back by his sleeve, her face softening into a warm smile once more. “How could you say that? Gary, you’re the sweetest, most thoughtful person I know.” Meanwhile, my plane touched down at the Northern airfield, and I switched my phone back on. The moment the deluge of urgent messages from leadership loaded, I realized exactly what had transpired. Without a second’s delay, I dialed my department head directly. “Sir, I was on a commercial flight for the past four hours. I’ve just emailed you my flight ticket and boarding pass timestamps.” “Regarding the leak, the timestamps on those alleged transfer documents overlap directly with my time in the air. Someone is deliberately framing me and attempting to sabotage the company.” “I will provide all necessary technical logs, but I request that the company prosecute the perpetrator to the full extent of the law.” “Before taking off, Gary sent me those edited images to brag about his work. I have preserved the chat logs, metadata, and IP routing details, and I am submitting them to you right now.” After receiving the executive’s firm confirmation, I forwarded Gary’s full personal file and chat logs directly to the corporate legal team.

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1 Lately, my husband couldn’t stop bringing up the new older woman in his department. “She dresses like she’s going to a club, and her eyebrows look like they were drawn on with a thick Sharpie.” I just smiled and kept quiet. A few days later, he came home fuming. “She actually begged me to fix her laptop today. Can’t she do anything herself? It’s exhausting.” I handed him a bowl of fresh fruit. “She’s new. Just give her a hand.” “She’s almost forty and still acts like a helpless teenager. Every sentence starts with ‘Oh, silly me.’ It makes me want to throw up.” He took a aggressive bite of an apple. “And she’s so slow. I’m constantly cleaning up her messes.” “If it bothers you that much,” I asked, “why don’t you ask your manager for a new partner?” He shook his head, sighing. “Forget it. Life’s tough for her. She’s a single mom.” Then came the night he staggered home drunk, muttering under his breath, “Brenda’s son had a fever tonight. She was sobbing her eyes out… I had to drive them to the ER.” I handed him a glass of water. “I thought you hated her.” He closed his eyes, slurring his words. “I do… I just hate how she tries to carry everything on her own.” My heart sank into my stomach. When a man starts dreaming about another woman, whether it’s in his heart or his bed, he’s already checked out of the marriage. … The next morning, Lucas was mostly sober, propped up against the headboard scrolling through his phone. His thumb flicked rapidly across the screen, his face darkening by the second. Before I could say a word, he blurted out in frustration, “Is this woman completely brainless? Three messages first thing in the morning just to ask how to fill out a spreadsheet.” I nonchalantly replied, “She could ask any other coworker. Why only you?” “Because she’s needy,” Lucas scoffed, his tone dripping with disgust. “She can’t handle basic tasks. It’s ‘Lucas, please help me’ all day long. Gives me skin crawls.” I turned to look him in the eye. “If she annoys you so much, just ignore her.” Lucas stiffened for a fraction of a second before adopting a reasonable posture. “We work in the same cubicle cluster. Ignoring her would make things way too awkward.” “Didn’t you say she was fake and disgusting?” I asked softly. “She is fake, but she’s genuinely miserable too.” He shrugged. “Her kid was burning up yesterday. She broke down crying right in front of me. I couldn’t just turn a cold shoulder.” I stared at him. “So you drove her to the hospital in the middle of the night and picked up her medical bill?” Lucas waved a hand dismissively. “It was just a couple hundred bucks. We’re teammates, it’s no big deal.” I pulled out my phone, opened the screenshots of his bank statements from last night, and held them in front of his face. “Twenty-four transfers in a single month. Boba tea, bakery deliveries, pediatric meds. You paid for all of it. Just being a good teammate?” Lucas shoved my phone away, his temper flaring. “Josie, can you stop looking for trouble where there isn’t any?!” “Checking our accounts is looking for trouble?” I countered. He scoffed, his eyes filled with impatience and quiet contempt. “You don’t even work a real job. You sit at home all day staring at me. Is this your idea of fun? I work my ass off to support this household, and all you do is sit around doubting me?” “I do freelance graphic design,” I said quietly. “I’m not sitting around idle.” He didn’t buy it for a second. “Oh, please. Drawing a couple of pictures is a breeze. Stop inflating your ego. Everyone knows you’re just unemployed and living off my paycheck. Stop throwing tantrums. It’s exhausting.” I didn’t argue further. At noon, trying to offer an olive branch, he opened his food delivery app. “What do you want for lunch? My treat, somewhere nice.” “Let’s get Cajun seafood,” I said offhandedly. “Extra buttery, super spicy.” Lucas instantly shot it down. “No way. Too greasy and unhealthy.” I looked at him, puzzled. “That used to be your favorite.” “That was then. Things are different now.” The words slipped out of his mouth before he could catch himself. “Brenda said greasy food causes stomach cancer. She keeps her diet extremely clean and disciplined.” The air in the room instantly turned ice-cold. I fixed my gaze on him. “You sure pay close attention to her.” Lucas dodged my eyes, clearing his throat nervously. “She rattles on about it every day at the office. My ears are practically numb from listening to her.” Before I could press him, his phone lit up on the coffee table. A banner notification popped onto the screen: Thanks again for taking us to the hospital last night~ I made some homemade rib soup today, I’ll bring some over for you tomorrow! I looked up at Lucas. 2 Lucas frantically lunged forward and slammed his phone face-down on the couch. “She’s just being overly polite.” I didn’t say a word, keeping my eyes fixed on his panicked face. Unsettled by my silence, Lucas sat up straight, crossing his arms in defensive anger. “It’s just a container of soup! It’s basic etiquette between coworkers. Why do you always jump to crazy conclusions?” A bitter smile tugged at the corner of my lips. “So a bowl of soup makes up for a month’s worth of bills you paid for her?” “Josie!” Lucas raised his voice, veins popping on his neck. “Do you really have to pick a fight over every tiny detail?” My voice remained level, though my heart felt completely hollow. “You used to talk so much trash about her. But your actions tell a completely different story.” “You rushed her kid to the ER, paid her bills, and memorized her whole diet plan.” “Lucas, do you even know what professional boundaries look like anymore?” The question caught him off guard. He swallowed hard. “I’m just soft-hearted! I can’t turn my back when someone’s suffering. Why is your mind so toxic? Why do you always assume the worst?” “Is my mind toxic, or are you crossing lines?” I stood up, looking down at him. “You claim to despise her, yet you act more devoted to her than anyone else.” “Does that sound normal to you?” His posture shrank a little, his voice losing its sting. “We are strictly coworkers. Stop making up stories and tearing this house apart.” I looked straight into his soul. “When you used to come home from work, you’d share funny stories about your day with me. Now? Every single word out of your mouth is about her. Your complaints are about her, and your sympathy is for her.” Lucas fell silent, his face turning an ugly shade of red. “I know work is stressful,” I continued, “but I will not tolerate you crossing marital boundaries under the guise of being a good Samaritan.” “I…” He opened his mouth, stammered for a moment, and finally choked out, “I know where the line is. Just trust me.” Without waiting for my reply, he grabbed his jacket from the rack. “I’m going back to the office to work late. We both need to cool off.” By evening, Lucas returned right on cue, carrying a thermal tote bag in his hand. He caught my eye as he stepped through the front door, looking a bit uncomfortable. “Brenda forced this on me. I couldn’t say no without being rude.” I said impassively, “Did she stay late at the office too, just to hand-deliver soup to you?” He set the container down on the counter and walked over, his tone noticeably softer. “She was putting in overtime too. You know how clumsy she is with her work, she can never finish on time.” “Look, I was out of line this morning. I promise I’ll keep my distance from now on, okay? Don’t be mad.” At that exact moment, his phone chimed again. A photo flashed on his screen showing a young boy playing with blocks. The caption read: My little guy is feeling so much better today, all thanks to you~ You should bring your wife over for dinner sometime! Lucas picked up his phone and thrust the screen right into my face. “See? If there was anything shady going on between us, would she be inviting you over?” A gentle, reassuring smile spread across his face, a smile I hadn’t seen in months. 3 I didn’t take the bait. Taking my silence as acceptance, he eagerly pulled out a bowl and began pouring the broth. “Come on, smell this. Brenda’s rib soup actually smells amazing. Give it a taste.” I remained seated, unmoving. “Josie?” He stepped over, offering the steaming bowl with both hands. “Give me a break here. She even asked you over to her place. What else could you possibly be worried about?” I looked up at him. “Fine. Let me go tomorrow night then.” Lucas froze, the bowl hovering in mid-air. I smiled calmly. “Tomorrow evening, after work, we’ll head over together. I’d love to meet the little boy you saved.” Lucas slammed the bowl down onto the dining table, broth splashing over the rim. “Are you doing this just to pick a fight? Going there with that attitude is just going to ruin everyone’s night!” I locked eyes with him. “What are you hiding? Afraid I’ll catch you red-handed?” “You!” Lucas was fuming. “I’ve explained this a thousand times, she’s just a coworker! If you don’t believe me, I’ll call her right now and let her tell you herself!” He ripped his phone out of his pocket and hit speakerphone. It rang three times before a smooth, velvety voice echoed through the speaker. “Lucas-bear~” Brenda’s voice was honeyed and playful. “Why are you calling me at this hour? Is the soup that good? Are you calling to shower me with compliments?” Lucas’s entire face turned stiff as a board. “Brenda, my wife is right here. She wants to say hi.” The line went dead silent for a full second. “Oh my gosh! Hey girl!” Brenda’s tone instantly shifted into loud, hyper-friendly enthusiasm. “Hi, hi! I’ve been dying to meet you! Lucas brags about how pretty and talented you are all the time at work. I thought he was exaggerating, haha!” I spoke up neutrally. “Brenda, the soup is nice. Thanks.” “Oh, it’s nothing! Lucas takes such good care of me at work, a bowl of soup is the least I could do!” She let out a loud, airy laugh. “We’re just good buddies at the office. He just takes pity on me being a single mom and helps out a bit extra.” “I see,” I said slowly. “I’m just curious, Brenda. You call him ‘Lucas-bear’, and he calls you ‘Brenda’. Don’t you think the dynamic is a little weird?” There was another awkward pause on the line. Lucas jumped in frantically to smooth things over. “She’s just joking around, don’t take it seriously.” “Yeah, I just blab without thinking sometimes, don’t mind me!” Brenda added quickly. “I really have to host you for dinner at my place soon. I’ll cook a feast to make it up to you!” “Great. Tomorrow night then,” I said. A flash of panic bled through her tone. “Tomorrow? Uh… I might have to order takeout then…” “It’s a date,” I cut in. I ended the call. Lucas slid his phone back into his pocket, wearing a triumphant look. “See? She told you herself, strictly professional. What more do you want?” I didn’t answer. I picked up the spoon, dipped it into the soup, and took a small sip. “How is it?” He leaned in, expectant. “It’s fine,” I set the spoon down. “A little too gamey for my taste.” 4 The next evening, I arrived at Brenda’s apartment complex early. Lucas joined me after finishing his shift, carrying a gift box of organic milk and a bag of high-end fruit. When he saw my empty hands, his eyebrows pulled into a tight knot. “You came empty-handed? She’s hosting us for dinner, the least you could do is bring a gift.” I glanced at the items in his hands. “You brought enough for the both of us.” His face darkened, but he swallowed his frustration and didn’t push further. It was an old complex without an elevator. Lucas led the way up the stairs with practiced familiarity. Reaching door 603, he raised his hand and knocked. The door swung open almost instantly. “Lucas-bear is here!” Brenda stood there wearing a white lace dress, her makeup meticulously applied. When her eyes landed on me standing right behind him, her smile faltered for a fraction of a second before expanding into a broad, welcoming grin. “Oh, welcome, welcome! Come on in!” I offered a polite smile. “Thanks for having us, Brenda.” Inside, a little boy caught sight of Lucas. His eyes lit up instantly, and he sprinted across the living room with open arms. “Daddy!” Lucas’s face drained of color in an instant. I unhurriedly slipped into a pair of disposable hotel slippers I had brought along. Brenda yanked the boy back by his arm, her tone sharp. “Sweetie! Call him Uncle Lucas! How many times do I have to tell you?!” The boy pouted, tears welling up in his eyes. “But he IS Daddy… When I had a fever, he held me all night…” Lucas whipped his head toward me, his eyes wide with desperation. “He’s just a kid, he doesn’t know any better. Kids in single-parent homes call any guy ‘Daddy’. Don’t overthink it.” I looked down at the entry mat. Resting beside Brenda’s heels was a pair of faded blue men’s house slippers. Noticing where my eyes were pinned, Lucas scrambled to explain, “She bought those for her dad a while ago. Her dad stayed over once.” Brenda chimed in frantically, “Yes, exactly! My father stayed here for a few days a couple of months back!” I said nothing. Dinner was uncomfortable to say the least. The little boy insisted on sitting right next to Lucas. Lucas didn’t reject him. He naturally scooped food into the boy’s bowl and wiped sauce off the kid’s chin with practiced ease. “He sure is attached to you,” I remarked with a faint smirk. Brenda let out an awkward laugh. “Yeah, Lucas is just so great with kids. Naturally, he loves him.” The boy raised his chubby face, asking Lucas in a sweet, high-pitched voice, “Daddy, can you give me a bath tonight? That bubble bath you bought me last time was so much fun!” The air in the dining room instantly turned to concrete. Lucas’s fork froze in mid-air. His face cycled through a spectrum of ghost-white and deep crimson. He offered me a forced, stiff laugh. “Last Friday she was stuck working late, so she asked me to babysit for an hour… I just gave him a quick wash while waiting. Don’t twist it into something bad.” Brenda’s voice pitched an octave higher. “Yes! I was totally drowning in work and had no choice! Please don’t misunderstand, it was literally just that one time!” I nodded calmly. “I see.” The boy, completely oblivious, chipped in again. “Daddy, when are you moving in with us? Mommy said you’re going to live with us soon!” Brenda bolted up from her chair, her voice shrill and panicked. “Stop talking nonsense!” Frightened by her outburst, the boy burst into tears, big drops rolling down his cheeks. Instinctively, Lucas reached over to pull the crying child into his arms, patting his back softly. “Shh, don’t cry, buddy. Uncle Lucas can’t live here. Uncle Lucas has his own home.” I set my chopsticks down cleanly on the table and looked straight at him. “Have you stayed the night here?” Over the past six months, he had been away on “business trips” dozens of times. “No!” The answer shot out of his mouth, but his voice lacked conviction. “Just… occasionally… when she was overwhelmed, I stayed to help watch the kid. Josie, don’t take a four-year-old’s ramblings seriously. What does he know?” Brenda scrambled over, nodding vigorously. “Yes! My boy just lacks a father figure, so he calls anyone who’s nice to him ‘Daddy’! He’s called several guys in our apartment building ‘Daddy’, I swear!” I leaned back against my chair, sweeping my cold gaze back and forth between the two of them. “Oh? He calls every guy he sees ‘Daddy’?” I let out a low, chilling laugh. “Then I’d really love to know… when was the last time you invited one of those other ‘daddies’ over to take care of your household?” 5 Brenda’s face froze mid-expression. Lucas lost his temper completely. “Josie! Stop picking on her! She was nice enough to cook us dinner, why do you have to be so aggressive and mean?!” I stood up. “This meal is completely unappetizing. Enjoy yourselves.” I turned on my heel and walked toward the exit. Lucas yelled my name behind me, but I didn’t bother turning back. Standing in the dimly lit stairwell, I pulled out my phone and looked at the photo I had snapped earlier of the men’s slippers by the door. Then I locked the screen and walked down the steps, one by one. Six flights of stairs. Three of the motion-sensor lights were broken, plunging the path into shadow. Lucas never ran down to chase after me. In fact, he didn’t come home at all that night. I pulled out my phone and dialed my best friend, Gwen. “Gwen, hook me up with a top-tier divorce attorney. Someone who specializes in asset division.” “Did that scumbag actually cheat on you?” “I don’t have concrete physical proof yet, but I need to draw my battle lines.” That night, I cleared all of Lucas’s clothes and personal belongings out of the master bedroom and dumped them into the home office. At 7:00 AM the next morning, the front door clicked open. Lucas walked in. I was sitting right on the living room sofa, waiting. When he caught sight of me, his footsteps faltered. “You didn’t sleep?” “We need to talk,” I said. He slipped off his shoes and walked over. A distinct scent drifted off him, not Brenda’s heavy perfume, but a fresh, clean scent of hotel body wash. He had showered somewhere else. “He’s just a little kid,” Lucas said, sitting on the armchair opposite me. “He calls everyone Daddy. It doesn’t mean anything. Josie, I don’t want to fight. Let’s just move past this and live our lives.” “Lucas,” I looked up, catching his eye. “When exactly did you decide that my feelings don’t matter anymore?” He blinked, caught off guard. “Does a man constantly bring up another woman for no reason?” I spoke slowly, placing emphasis on every single word. “You complained about her, you mocked her, because she was consuming every corner of your mind.” “You couldn’t stop yourself from running errands for her. But did you spend even a single second thinking about how that would make me feel?” Lucas opened his mouth, but no words came out. “You didn’t think about me at all,” I answered for him. “Or maybe you did, but you simply didn’t care.” “That’s not true…” “I’m not finished,” I cut him off. “You told me I don’t work a real job. In your eyes, I’m just a useless housewife living off your charity, someone who has no right to question you.” His face flushed crimson, then turned pale. Finally, he snapped, “What do you want from me then?! Do you want me to drop to my knees and beg for forgiveness? Do you want me to block Brenda right now? Name it, and I’ll do it!” “No need,” I stood up calmly. “Tomorrow morning at nine, meet me at the courthouse for divorce filing.” Lucas shot up from his seat, shouting, “Are you out of your mind?! You want a divorce over a stupid misunderstanding?!” “I didn’t sleep with her!” He roared at the top of his lungs. I looked at him with complete detachment. “Lucas, maybe you didn’t physically cheat, but you lost your way.” “And I am not your GPS. I have zero obligation to stand around waiting for you to recalibrate.” Lucas slammed the door so hard on his way out that the wall art shuddered. By late afternoon, the doorbell rang. “Josie!” Lucas’s younger sister, Ellie, stood outside carrying a bouquet of fresh white lilies. I stepped aside to let her in. “Did Lucas send you?” She gave me a timid, awkward smile. “My brother is terrible with words. He was terrified he’d say the wrong thing and make it worse, so he begged me to come over and smooth things over. Honestly, Josie, aren’t you being a little too sensitive? My brother is just a pushover who can’t say no. He doesn’t have a devious bone in his body.” I looked at her without saying a word. “Look, let me be real with you,” Ellie continued, pulling out all the stops. “No matter what, doesn’t he hand his paycheck over to you every month? As long as a man hasn’t actually cheated on you in bed, you should just turn a blind eye.” I let out a faint, dry laugh. “Ellie, if your husband was emotionally cheating on you, would you just turn a blind eye?” Ellie waved her hand dismissively. “Emotional cheating isn’t real cheating. You can’t even take that to court. Why get so hung up on it?” I looked deep into her eyes and spoke in a low, measured voice. “How about I call your husband right now and tell him about your emotional affair with your college ex? Want to bet if he’ll get hung up on it?” Ellie’s smile evaporated instantly. Her face turned ghost-white. “When the knife isn’t sticking into your own chest, it’s easy to tell someone else not to bleed,” I said quietly. “You’re telling me to let it go only because you aren’t the one getting stabbed.” Before she could form a reply, an unknown number vibrated frantically on my phone screen. I answered and put it on speaker. “Josie!” It was Brenda’s voice, hyperventilating and sob-riddled. “Lucas is in terrible shape! His life is in danger!”

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1 On the morning of my wedding, my father had just stepped out of the master bathroom in our new marital condo. My fiancée’s younger sworn brother raised a bottle of industrial-strength bleach and sprayed it straight into my father’s face. “Can’t you read the sign on the door? It clearly says ‘Outsiders Strictly Prohibited.’ You better sanitize yourself. Who knows what filthy diseases you brought from your trashy backwoods town?” The acrid bleach dripped down my father’s weathered, calloused face. Rage boiled in my chest, but before I could take a step, my fiancée, Summer, pinched her nose in sheer disgust. “Sean, tell your dad to apologize to Jayden right now! He has zero boundaries. He’s completely stressing my brother out.” Jayden was her sworn brother, a trashy bar leech who hung out with her every single night. She didn’t find that worthless boy toy filthy at all, yet she treated her future father-in-law, the man who had drained his entire life savings to buy this condo outright for us, like toxic waste. “It’s my fault… I didn’t know the rules. I’ll go scrub the toilet clean right now…” My dad’s eyes were bloodshot. He wiped at the burning bleach with his sleeve and tugged gently on my cuff, his voice trembling. “It’s your big day, son. Don’t let me ruin the wedding.” I looked at his swollen, red-rimmed eyes. Slowly, I pulled out my phone and dialed the wedding coordinator. “Cancel the reception. The wedding is off.” I had played the loyal dog in this relationship for five long years. Today, I was finally going to be a man again. … The moment I ended the call, Summer snatched my phone out of my hand. “He’s just talking out of his ass! The wedding is on as scheduled. If anyone dares to tear down the stage, I’ll sue your company!” The coordinator on the line hesitated, terrified. I reclaimed my phone and spoke into the receiver, my voice steady as stone. “Do as I said. I will cover all breach-of-contract fees.” Summer raised her hand to slap me across the face. I caught her wrist in mid-air and shoved her back. Jayden whipped out his smartphone, aiming the camera straight at us. “Viewers, are you seeing this?” he yelled into his livestream. “The backwoods father-in-law violated the bride’s private bathroom, and now the groom is getting physical!” “A trashy family like this is a total nightmare to marry into!” Comments flooded the screen in a fast flurry. Summer glanced at the phone screen and immediately stepped in front of Jayden like a bodyguard. “Jayden makes his living from livestreaming! Don’t you dare ruin his career!” My father held onto the wall, feeling his way toward the bathroom sink. “Give me some water… My eyes are burning so bad I can’t open them.” Jayden spread his arms, blocking the bathroom doorway completely. “The kitchen sink is reserved for washing the champagne flutes for the toast,” Jayden sneered. “If your filthy hands touch it, we’ll have to throw the whole set away.” “There’s a public restroom downstairs. Go wash your face down there.” I lunged forward, grabbed Jayden by the throat, and slammed him violently against the wall. “If anything happens to my father’s eyes, I’m going to rip you apart! Get the hell out of my way!” Summer rushed over, trying to pry my fingers off him. “Sean, are you out of your mind?!” “My brother is just doing this for everyone’s health!” I twisted the faucet open and scooped icy water, frantically splashing it over my father’s face. My dad could barely stand from the intense pain, yet his trembling hand kept gripping the hem of my jacket. “Don’t fight, son… Everyone here is a guest. Don’t make us a laughingstock.” Jayden smirked and pushed his phone camera right into my father’s face. “Hey old man, clarify it for the stream. Why did you use that toilet when there was a massive sign right on the door?” My dad opened his mouth, stammering through the pain. “Last night… Summer sent me a text saying the guest bathroom was clogged, so she told me to use this one…” “Dad!” Summer cut him off sharply, her voice piercing. “If you made a mistake, just own up to it! Don’t throw me under the bus!” She whirled around to glare at me. “Your dad forgets things all the time. You wouldn’t seriously take his word over mine, would you?” My father lowered his head, sinking into silence. I dialed 911 for an ambulance. Summer slammed her hand down over my screen. “Calling an ambulance on our wedding day? Are you intentionally trying to humiliate me?” “That bleach was diluted ages ago! What could possibly happen?” “Tell your dad to tough it out for two hours. He can go to the hospital after the ceremony.” I shoved her arm away, my voice dropping into a dangerous growl. “Is your precious vanity worth more than a human life? If anything happens to my father, neither you nor Jayden will walk away from this!” Fifteen minutes later, the paramedics rushed through the door. The nurse pried my father’s eyelid open, took one look, and immediately gestured for the gurney. “Severe chemical burn! We need to flush his eyes and treat him right now!” Jayden quickly kicked the bottle of bleach under the sofa. I bent down, retrieved it, and handed it straight to the paramedic. The nurse glanced at the label on the bottle, then took a quick sniff at the cap. “This isn’t household diluted bleach. This is pure, unadulterated chemical fluid. Treat it as raw concentrate!” Summer’s face drained of color. She whipped her head around, glaring furiously at Jayden. Jayden instantly shut down his livestream. “Sis… I just wanted to scare him a little. How was I supposed to know rural old men are so fragile?” As the gurney rolled toward the front door, Summer refused to move out of the way. She stared at me, biting her lip until it turned white. “Sean, if you walk out that door with that ambulance today, we are officially done.” I slammed my shoulder into her, shoving her aside, and stepped into the elevator with the paramedics. The moment the elevator doors closed, my phone buzzed with a notification from my smart home hub. Local security footage batch deletion detected. Restore cloud backup? I tapped confirm immediately. A progress bar popped up on the screen: Restoring footage. Do not disconnect from network. At the hospital, the doctor spent forty minutes flushing my father’s eyes before calling a halt. “Left corneal chemical burn. He needs to be hospitalized for observation.” “His vision will be severely impaired over the next few days. Full recovery depends on follow-up evaluations.” My father fumbled in his pocket, pulled out his worn bank card, and shoved it into my hand. “Don’t ruin your marriage because of me, son… Go back to the venue.” “There are nurses here. I can handle myself.” I slipped the card back into his coat pocket. My phone vibrated dozens of times. Summer didn’t send a single text asking about my father’s condition. Instead, she sent a spreadsheet titled: Marital Condo Pollution Damages Itemization. Smart toilet replacement fee: $12,000. Full-house chemical decontamination fee: $5,000. Destroyed wedding glassware fee: $2,000. Wedding delay damages: $15,000. The bottom line read: To be voluntarily covered by Sean’s father. Jayden immediately followed up with a voice note. “Get your old man to sign the authorization and transfer the cash, and we’ll call it even.” “My sister is being more than generous. Anyone else would have called the cops on him for property destruction already.” I blocked his number without typing a single word. A short while later, Summer’s mother arrived at the hospital accompanied by two attorneys. She slammed a legal agreement directly onto my chest. “Summer has always been a clean freak!” “She doesn’t hate your father, she’s just terrified that an unhygienic old man will bring dangerous bacteria to her future children!” “If you truly love her, you can’t just care about your father’s feelings!” The agreement contained twelve strict clauses. My father was strictly forbidden from stepping foot inside our condo after the wedding. He was forbidden from using any family utensils or bathrooms. He was forbidden from having any contact with future grandchildren. Before attending any family gathering, he had to provide a full infectious disease medical report. Finally, it demanded that my father record a video statement admitting that the bleach bottle contained nothing but tap water. Summer’s mother pushed an inkpad toward the bedside table. “Get your father to put his thumbprint on this.” “Once Summer cools off, you can still rush back to the venue and finish the ceremony.” My father reached out his trembling hand, about to press his thumb down. I let out a cold scoff, grabbed the agreement, and ripped it straight down the middle. Summer’s mother slapped her knees, screaming at the top of her lungs. “Your father gets a little scratch and you stop respecting your mother-in-law?!” “Summer gave you five years of her life! Where is your conscience?!” “She gave you her youth!” Hearing those words, my father struggled to sit up from the hospital bed. “I’ll sign it… Don’t let your mother-in-law ruin your name, son.” I pushed him gently back onto the mattress. At that exact moment, a video notification popped up in our extended family group chat. My aunt was standing at the back entrance of the wedding hall along with all the guests from my side of the family. In front of every guest sat a plastic bin. Venue staff members were ordering them to strip off their jackets, remove their jewelry, and dump their personal belongings inside for chemical spraying. My aunt was cradling a folded silk satin quilt in her arms. It was the special quilt my mother had hand-stitched before she passed away. She hadn’t lived to see me get married. My father had kept that quilt locked away in his wardrobe for years, only letting my aunt bring it out today for the traditional wedding blessing. Jayden snatched the quilt out of my aunt’s arms and pumped an industrial misting sprayer over it a dozen times. “Old cotton is packed with bedbugs and mites!” “How dare you bring a trashy biohazard like this to a high-end wedding?” Without another word, he crammed the precious handmade quilt straight into a heavy-duty trash bag. Hearing the background audio from the video, my father panicked, trying to scramble out of bed. His knee slammed hard against the bedframe with a loud crack. “Get the quilt back… That’s the last thing your mother left us…” Summer’s call came through on my phone. “Sean, Jayden is doing a live promotional showcase for a professional sanitation brand right now.” “This single sponsorship deal is going to net him over two hundred thousand dollars.” “Tell your cheap relatives to cooperate. It’s not going to kill them.” I looked at the guest protocol document she had attached. Only the guests from the groom’s side were subjected to the forced decontamination line. Under the guest category, four words were explicitly typed: Rural Sample Group. I hung up the phone, tapped into my cloud storage, and checked the restoration progress of the security footage. The wedding coordinator called one more time to confirm if they should tear down the stage. Looking at the seven fully restored high-definition video files on my screen, I changed my mind. “Cancel the ceremony, but do not tear down the venue setup.” “Keep the main LED screens, the live broadcast gear, and the audio systems fully powered up. I will cover all venue rental fees.” I forwarded the seven video files directly to the venue’s master screen operator. “When the event starts, play these videos in the exact sequence I numbered them.” The operator asked nervously, “Do you need me to edit out any private conversations?” I replied with four words: Not a single second. Meanwhile, Jayden had restarted his live stream. He had edited the clip of my father bending over the sink to wash his face, posting it with a bold headline: Rural Father-in-Law Hijacks Bride’s Private Master Bath, Fakes Injury to Extort Money. He had completely edited out the footage of him spraying concentrated bleach. In the live stream, he held up the empty plastic bottle, putting on a righteous performance. “This bottle contained nothing but plain tap water!” “The old man said all those crazy lies just to force the bride to surrender!” Summer sat right beside him, sighing deeply into the camera lens. “Sean is a dutiful son, I understand that,” she said, looking sorrowful. “But filial piety needs boundaries.” “Marriage involves two families. The older generation needs to learn to respect the lifestyle of young people.” The viral clip quickly made its way into my father’s workplace group chat. My dad had worked as a commercial janitor at a downtown shopping mall for over fifteen years. His supervisor called him immediately, telling him to suspend his shifts. “Customers saw the video and filed formal complaints,” the supervisor said coldly. “People are saying you carry infectious diseases.” “Stay home until this whole mess is cleared up.” My father held the phone, sitting in dead silence for a long time. While I stepped out to fetch his prescription from the hospital pharmacy, he asked a floor nurse to help him record a video on his phone. When I walked back into the room, he was trembling, reading aloud from a written script Jayden had texted him. “It was my fault for being unhygienic…” “The bottle contained tap water…” “My daughter-in-law never mistreated me. I shouldn’t have used her private…” I snatched the phone out of his hands and deleted the recording on the spot. My father grabbed my wrists frantically. “Post it, son! Taking a little humiliation is nothing to me. Don’t ruin your entire future over my broken ego!” I slipped the phone into my pocket and held his trembling hands tightly. “Dad, you did nothing wrong. Why should you apologize to those parasites?” “If a woman can’t even respect you, this marriage isn’t worth a damn thing.” Summer called me yet again. On the other end of the line, she sniffled, putting on a sobbing voice, yet every word out of her mouth hurled blame at me. “Sean, I’ve been cleaning up your messes this whole time!” “You beat up Jayden, and I didn’t call the police on you!” “You talked back to my mother, and I kept keeping the peace!” “Your dad ruined my dream wedding, and I’m still willing to wait for you!” “Where did I ever wrong you?!” I read the doctor’s official diagnosis report right into the receiver: “Severe Chemical Ocular Trauma.” She went silent for a few seconds, but her tone remained icy and detached. “The doctor said he’ll recover! He’s not blind! Are you seriously going to throw away our five-year relationship over a minor injury?” She paused, then added in a commanding tone, “If you step onto the stage today, apologize for what happened, and publicly clarify that your dad doesn’t have any infectious diseases, I am still willing to marry you.” “However, after we get married, we live completely separate lives. Without my explicit permission, he is never allowed to see our future children.” I asked her in a cold voice, “Is all of this for my own good too?” She didn’t hesitate for a split second. “Of course! An old man shouldn’t become a parasite in our marriage!” I looked at the seven video files arranged neatly in my upload queue and spoke with eerie tranquility. “Fine. See you at the venue.” I hung up the phone. My father grabbed the sleeve of my suit jacket, his eyes filled with worry. “Sean, don’t go there to fight people… I’m not worth ruining your life over.” I placed his hand back under the warm blanket. “Don’t worry, Dad. I’m not going to fight anyone.” “I’m just going to attend the public launch event she spent so much time preparing for herself.” At the entrance of the grand ballroom, a full decontamination arch had been set up. A security guard blocked my path. “Groom’s family and guests must register first.” “Disinfect shoe soles, step through the mist chamber, and put your smartphone in the UV sanitizer cabinet.” My footsteps paused. I leveled a deadly glare at him. The guard raised an industrial misting gun, aiming it straight at my face. “Miss Summer explicitly instructed us that even the groom doesn’t get an exemption.” The venue manager sprinted over, slamming the guard’s misting gun down to the floor. “Mr. Sean paid the venue rental fees out of his own pocket! Anyone who dares block him gets fired on the spot!” I strode into the main hall. Summer was already standing on the elevated stage, wearing her elaborate lace wedding dress. The massive LED backdrop behind her was covered in promotional ads for the commercial sanitation brand Jayden was endorsing. When she caught sight of me, she wiped a tear from her cheek. “I knew you’d come back to me.” Jayden signaled two assistants to roll a commercial misting machine over. He thrust a wireless microphone into my hand. “Hey brother-in-law, do a quick demonstration for the audience!” “Step into the mist chamber to sanitize yourself, then make a public apology on behalf of your old man.” I looked at the active livestream camera, nodding slowly. “Sure.” “Let’s get this started.” The assistant opened the hatch of the misting chamber. Summer stepped down from the stage, grabbing my hand tightly. “As long as you admit your mistake today, I won’t hold a grudge.” “We will exchange rings as planned, and you’ll still be my husband.” She shoved a printed legal commitment agreement into my palm. Clause 1: The marital condo will be managed exclusively by Summer. Clause 2: Sean’s father is strictly prohibited from entering under any circumstances. Clause 3: All relatives on the groom’s side must undergo full medical checks and chemical sanitation before visiting. Clause 4: Sean is strictly forbidden from publicly disclosing anything that transpired today. Clause 5: Sean must fully compensate Jayden for the financial losses caused by his interrupted stream. Summer pressed her hand against the final signature page. “Sign it, and we’re still family.” Summer’s mother walked over, putting on a fake gentle smile. “A man swallowing his pride isn’t a crime, Sean.” “How many years does your father have left anyway?” “Summer is the one who’s going to spend the rest of your life with you.” Jayden zoomed the livestream camera right into my face. “Brother-in-law, don’t keep hundreds of thousands of viewers waiting!” “In front of everyone, state clearly that the bottle contained plain water.” I raised the microphone to my lips. “Was that bottle really just filled with water?” Summer checked the live viewer count on the monitor. It had just crossed four hundred thousand active viewers. She nodded firmly. “Yes!” “No matter how naive Jayden is, he would never spray raw chemical concentrate on an elder!” “Your dad’s medical report doesn’t prove we caused the injury! He works as a mall janitor anyway, who knows what toxic chemicals he touches on the job every day?” Several guests in the front row nodded in agreement. The corporate brand representative sat in the center of the first row, holding up his phone to record the moment. Jayden smirked at me, winking arrogantly. “You heard her, didn’t you?” “My sister is still trying to save your face even now!” “Any other woman would have sent you and your trashy father straight to jail!” I tossed the commitment agreement onto the table. Summer offered me a pen. I waved my hand dismissively. “I prepared an apology video of my own.” “Let’s play it first, then I’ll sign.” Jayden’s eyes lit up with excitement. “See? Was it really that hard to be reasonable?” He waved frantically at the media control booth. “Throw the groom’s video up on the main screen!” Summer smoothed down her wedding gown and stepped back onto the center stage. She picked up the velvet ring box, posing gracefully for the livestream camera. “There were a lot of misunderstandings today,” she spoke softly into her lapel mic. “But I am willing to forgive Sean.” “Marriage requires patience and grace. I am willing to help him fix the deep-rooted issues from his toxic background.” The massive LED screen behind her flashed brightly. However, my apology video didn’t appear. Instead, the timestamp on the video displayed: 7:00 PM, The Night Before the Wedding. The video showed Summer standing at the master bathroom door of our new condo. She ripped off the ‘Guest Bathroom’ sign from the door, replacing it with a fresh plaque: Outsiders Strictly Prohibited. Jayden stood right behind her, holding an unopened bottle of commercial bleach. “Are we seriously going to spray this right in the old man’s face?” Summer pressed the new sign flat against the wood, without even turning her head. “Stand back a little, it won’t kill him.” “The brand sponsor demands drama and conflict for the campaign. The bigger the outrage, the higher our traffic stream.” “I’ll text Sean tonight saying the guest bathroom is broken.” “Tomorrow morning, I’ll trick his dad into coming over early. The old man will definitely use this bathroom.” Jayden unscrewed the cap of the bleach bottle. “What if Sean loses his mind over it?” Summer let out a nasty, arrogant laugh. “He’s been my loyal dog for five straight years. He doesn’t have the balls to walk away.” “After the drama blows up, I’ll throw him a few sweet words, and he’ll still end up paying for our event promotion fees!” The entire audience in the hall froze, every head whipping around to stare at her. The livestream chat paused for one terrifying second, then exploded into a chaotic waterfall of outrage. Summer dropped the ring box, scrambling wildly toward the control booth. “Turn it off!” “Shut the screen off right now!” I gripped her shoulder with an iron grip, shoving her back onto the center of the stage. “What’s the rush?” “That was only video number one.” The brand representative in the front row stood up abruptly, pulling out his phone and shouting into the receiver: “Do NOT cut the livestream!” “Get legal and the police down here right now!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “616411”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 Patrick insisted on bringing my best friend, Vanessa, on our weekend getaway to Disneyland. The moment we met up at the parking lot, he tossed the car keys into my lap. “You drive. I need to sit in the back and take photos for Vanessa.” Vanessa laughed playfully, punching his arm. “Where are your manners, Patrick? Making your girlfriend drive while you wait on me in the back? That looks terrible.” Patrick let out a helpless chuckle. “Sadie is my girlfriend, but you’re my royalty. How could that ever be the same thing?” In the three years we had been dating, Patrick had never once taken a photo of me on his own initiative. On my birthday last year, I put on full makeup and begged him softly, “Just one picture, please?” He held up his phone, clicked twice without even looking, and handed it back to me with a sigh. “You’re just not photogenic. No angle looks good on you.” Yet his camera roll was overflowing with candid shots of Vanessa. Her profile while eating dinner, the exact second she turned around to laugh, her hair blowing gently in the wind. Hundreds of photos, and every single one was stunning. Sitting in the front seat, I listened as they chatted about concerts I had never attended and giggled over high school classmates I didn’t know. Their laughter filled the car, and I couldn’t squeeze a single word into the conversation. I rolled down the window just an inch. The cool wind rushed in, making my eyes sting with unshed tears. This three-year one-woman show… I was completely done performing. … I pulled the car over right outside the park restrooms, stepping inside to change my pad. The whole thing took less than three minutes. When I came back out, the entrance was empty except for a park worker in a mascot costume. Patrick and Vanessa were gone. The two people who promised to wait for me had disappeared without a trace. It was fine. I was used to it by now. I pulled out my phone and dialed Patrick’s number. It rang for a full minute before he finally picked up. The background noise was deafening, filled with high-pitched screams. “Where are you guys?” “Vanessa wanted to ride the TRON coaster. The line wasn’t too long, so I brought her over first.” Vanessa’s voice rang out in the background. “Hurry up! We’re almost at the front!” A dull, throb of cramps hit my lower abdomen, like a blunt needle being slowly twisted inside me. “My stomach hurts really bad. Can you come pick me up?” “I have to stay in line with Vanessa! Don’t you have legs?” Patrick snapped impatiently. “It’s just your period. Do you really have to be this dramatic?” Vanessa’s voice suddenly chimed in over the speaker. “Who gave you permission to talk to my Sadie like that? You’re asking for a beating!” The two of them began playful banter over the line, with Patrick laughingly begging for mercy. They completely forgot the call was still connected. One was the man I had dated for three years. The other was the best friend I had known for seven. Neither of them cared enough to ask if I was in pain. After a long while, Vanessa finally panted into the phone, “Bestie, I gave him a piece of my mind for you!” I bit my lip hard, my voice barely audible. “Thanks.” Vanessa shouted at Patrick, “Apologize to my Sadie right now!” She commanded him like a trained puppy. Patrick sounded thoroughly reluctant. “Fine, fine. For Vanessa’s sake, I won’t hold a grudge against you.” “There’s a dark ride right near you. Go stand in line for us. Vanessa and I will meet you there after this.” Before I could answer, the line went dead. I looked at the line winding around the corner, walked over, and took my place at the back. I stood under the scorching sun for nearly two hours, sweat soaking through the back of my shirt. The dull ache in my abdomen gradually sharpened into a tearing pain. Still, I held on until Patrick and Vanessa finally strolled over. They were sharing a single sun umbrella, laughing and chatting, with Vanessa practically glued to Patrick’s arm. Patrick tilted his head to listen to her, slanting the umbrella almost entirely over her side. I had brought an umbrella in my bag that morning, but Patrick had glanced at it with disgust, complaining it was too heavy and forcing me to leave it behind. Yet when it came to Vanessa’s umbrella, he didn’t seem to mind the weight at all. A bitter chill rushed through my chest. Patrick walked up to me and handed over a plastic cup. Condensation ran down the sides, and ice cubes clinked loudly inside. “Vanessa said you’d be thirsty after waiting so long, so she specifically bought this iced boba tea to cool you down.” The drink was ice-cold, so cold that my heart froze along with it. When I didn’t reach for it, Patrick helpfully popped the straw in and shoved it toward my mouth. “You only waited a little while. Come on, don’t throw a fit.” My hands went limp, and the plastic cup plummeted straight to the pavement. The milk tea splashed everywhere, brown liquid pooling on the concrete as ice cubes rolled across the ground. Vanessa let out a sharp gasp, bending down immediately to clean it up. Patrick yanked her back by her arm and roared at me, “What the hell is wrong with you?! Vanessa was nice enough to buy you a drink, who do you think you are?!” Vanessa crouched down, her fingers hovering over the puddle, looking as if she were on the verge of tears. I spoke softly, my voice devoid of emotion. “I am on my period. Did both of you somehow forget that?” Patrick’s entire face stiffened, his grip on Vanessa loosening. He knelt down on one knee, using his jacket sleeve to gently wipe the splashed liquid off my heels. His tone softened instantly. “Alright, don’t be mad. It was my fault, I remembered wrong.” I had mentioned it clearly over the phone just an hour ago. A deep wave of helplessness washed over me. He was always like this. After inflicting harm, he would throw me a tiny crumb of tenderness. As if to say, See? I still care about you. Seeing that I remained silent, Patrick stood up with a smile and rubbed my head, like he was petting a stray cat that had finally decided to be obedient. “I knew my Sadie was the sweetest. Here, drink this warm one.” He offered me another cup. It was a cup of hot cocoa that Vanessa had already been drinking. A faint smear of pink lipstick was clearly visible on the straw. I looked at the straw, unable to tell whether he did this on purpose or simply didn’t care enough to notice. Over the past three years, I had received so many second-hand items. Food Vanessa didn’t like, things she was done using, gifts she was bored of. He always offered everything to Vanessa first. Only when she rejected it would he hand it over to me, saying, “These are all nice things, don’t be picky, Sadie.” Terrified of wasting things, I had swallowed my pride and accepted them every single time. But this time, I truly didn’t want it anymore. I walked over and tossed the hot cocoa directly into a nearby trash bin. Then I pulled out my phone and opened the official email from Imperial College London. I took a deep breath and tapped the confirmation button to accept my offer. The Space Mountain, the Soarin’ ride, the Pixar coaster… For the rest of the day, Patrick carried Vanessa’s bags, accompanying her on every single ride she wanted to try. All three of our heavy backpacks were hung around my shoulders, the straps digging deep into my collarbones. Walking in high heels, the sharp cramps in my stomach never ceased. I was forced to slow my pace, gradually falling a couple of yards behind them. Vanessa turned around and called out, “Sadie, hurry up!” Only then did Patrick glance back at me. His gaze slid from my pale face down to my feet, his eyebrows pulling into a tight knot. “We’re just walking around Disney, why on earth did you wear high heels?” “Sadie, you need to learn when it’s appropriate to show off.” I looked down at the pale pink heels on my feet. Patrick had personally chosen them for me. The subtle shimmer on the leather had looked exactly like the light in his eyes back then. I had grown up in a single-parent home with my mother, wearing hand-me-down clothes from relatives. The very first pair of high heels I ever owned was a gift from Patrick. That day, he had dropped to one knee, gently cradling my ankle as he slipped the shoe onto my foot, looking up with a soft smile. “Only beautiful shoes like these are worthy of my Sadie.” “Wear them for me every day from now on. Whenever your feet get tired, I’ll carry you.” Yet now, he found my shoes ostentatious and completely out of place. And the person resting on his back was no longer me. I stared at the tips of my shoes for a long moment, my throat dry as dust. “I won’t wear them anymore.” Never again. Vanessa threw Patrick a playful, scolding glare. “Sadie, don’t mind Patrick’s blunt words. He’s just worried about you. Walking all day in heels is exhausting! My feet hurt just looking at you.” She paused, then added smoothly, “Why don’t you just take them off? Walking barefoot is actually pretty comfortable. Besides, it’s not like anyone is looking at you anyway.” Passersby turned their heads, watching our small confrontation with curious eyes. I pulled my hem down to hide the raw blisters on my ankles, squeezing out a humiliating, “No thanks.” Patrick’s tone turned completely indifferent. “Leave her alone. She grew up struggling, she isn’t used to delicate treatment.” He wasn’t wrong. When I first got my period as a young girl, we were too poor to afford proper pads, so I had to layer toilet paper over and over again. When I started college, I would debate for twenty minutes over ordering a four-dollar meat dish in the cafeteria. Until Patrick entered my life. He had dragged me to the dining hall, declaring, “Whatever I eat, you eat.” In just one month, he helped me gain six pounds. I couldn’t even bring myself to hate him completely. There was only a dull, aching numbness left in my chest. In the distance, the fairytale castle lit up as the loudspeakers announced that the fireworks display would begin in five minutes. Patrick lifted Vanessa up onto his shoulders, pushing through the dense crowd. I was a step too slow, separated from them by a wall of people. Three, two, one. The night sky exploded into brilliant color. Fireworks burst into thousands of glittering stars, blanketing the dark sky above the castle. The falling embers looked just like the meteor shower during my sophomore year. Back then, it was freezing on the hilltop. Vanessa had taken off her heavy winter coat and wrapped it tightly around me. I had hugged her, asking, “Aren’t you cold?” She had shivered with a wide grin. “I have plenty of insulation! Protecting my girl Sadie is what matters most.” She caught a terrible cold after that night, and Patrick and I took turns bringing her hot meals in her dorm. One afternoon, she pinched my cheek gently. “Silly Sadie, don’t be so good to me. I’m scared that if I ever do something bad, you’ll be heartbroken.” Yet the person who once claimed she was scared of breaking my heart was now wrapped in my boyfriend’s arms, watching the fireworks. The crowd around me cheered and gasped. Vanessa excitedly tugged at Patrick’s sleeve. “Take a picture! Quick, take one!” Patrick held up his camera, snapping photos of her as the bursting light illuminated both their faces. Vanessa took the camera, looked at the screen, and pouted. “You took such an ugly picture of me!” Patrick leaned in close. “You look adorable.” “You!” Vanessa hit his chest playfully. “Retake it! Let’s take a couple’s photo this time!” Patrick naturally wrapped his arm around Vanessa’s waist, resting his chin lightly on top of her head. By the time they finished snapping photos, the fireworks show had come to an end. Patrick glanced over at me, suddenly speaking up. “You should take a photo too. It’s rare for us to come all the way here.” I froze for a second. It was a rare moment for him to offer to take my picture. I smoothed down my messy hair, stepping timidly toward the castle backdrop. Patrick raised his phone, clicked once without care, and lowered his arm. “Done.” Vanessa leaned over to look at his screen, her expression turning complicated. “This one… it’s completely blurry.” Patrick glanced at it casually. “Oh, my hand shook. Want another one?” I rasped out, my voice raspy, “No need.” My phone vibrated in my palm. It was a voice note from my mother. I held the speaker to my ear. “Sadie, sweetie, are you having fun at Disney?” The night wind blew past, making my eyes sting. I squeezed my fist tight, typing back: I’m having a great time, Mom. Did Patrick take nice pictures of you? Send some to Mom! I stared at the screen, typed a line of text, and deleted it. Finally, I replied: Yes, he took some. Then I typed another line and hit send. Mom, if someone takes really beautiful photos of a person, is it because they’re a good photographer, or because they love that person? My mother replied almost instantly: Because they love them, of course! You can only capture true beauty when you love someone. Silly girl, why are you asking that? A bitter smile tugged at my lips. Nothing, Mom. Just curious. I locked my screen, suddenly feeling that everything around me was utterly meaningless. I turned my head to look at Patrick, my voice as light as a feather. “Patrick, let me break up with you.” At that exact moment, the loud exit music blasted from the castle speakers, completely drowning out my words. Patrick tilted his head toward me, frowning as he leaned in. “What did you say?” Forget it. It didn’t matter anymore. The fairytale wasn’t over yet, but it was time for me to take my leave. The moment I got back to our apartment, I booked a one-way flight and began pulling out my suitcases. Just as I unzipped my bag, a banking notification popped up on my phone screen. An unauthorized transfer of twelve thousand dollars had just cleared. That account held my entire tuition savings, money I had earned over four years of working grueling shifts as a waitress. Only Patrick and I knew the password. My heart sank into a dark abyss. I threw open the bedroom door. Patrick was sitting on the living room couch playing video games. Vanessa was lounging right beside him, her legs casually resting across his lap. I stormed over, confronting Patrick directly. “Did you touch my money?!” “Vanessa is launching a start-up business. I transferred some funds over for her initial overhead.” My voice began to tremble violently. “Did you discuss it with me?! Did you even ask for my permission?!” Patrick let out a cold scoff. “It’s just twelve grand. I don’t even have the right to move that tiny amount?” That twelve thousand dollars was my only safety net for studying abroad. Without that money, I wouldn’t survive a single month in London. I wouldn’t even be able to afford my return flight home! How dare he? How dare he touch it! I shook with fury. “That is my tuition money! I worked grueling double shifts, working through every single summer and winter break without going home once, just to save that money!” He waved his hand with sheer impatience. “Are you serious right now? It’s not like the money evaporated.” “Sadie, be reasonable for once! Vanessa is your best friend. What’s wrong with helping her out when she’s short on cash for a start-up?” I let out a tragic, hollow laugh. “Patrick, whose boyfriend are you really?” Patrick looked at me with an exhausted expression, as if looking at a spoiled, unreasonable child. He pulled a paper contract off the coffee table and handed it to me. “Forget about grad school. With your family’s financial situation, you can’t afford that lifestyle anyway.” “I already lined up a job for you. Go complete your onboarding tomorrow.” I looked down at the paper. A manual shift worker contract for an assembly plant, paying three hundred dollars a month. On the signature line for Employee, Patrick had already signed my name on my behalf. My voice shook uncontrollably. “In your eyes, I’m only worthy of a job like this?” Patrick let out a heavy sigh. “You have an ordinary state degree. You should be grateful someone is willing to hire you.” “You can’t expect me to support you for the rest of your life, can you? Vanessa’s family can afford to put her through higher education. Can yours?” I stared at Patrick, feeling as though my chest had been ripped open with a blunt blade. During my sophomore year, when I first mentioned wanting to pursue a master’s degree, he had stayed up all night helping me research universities. Back then, he had kissed my forehead tenderly, saying, “Go for it! I’ll fund your studies, even if you want to go all the way to a Ph.D.!” It turned out the expiration date on that promise was only three short years. Vanessa spoke up in a soft, timid voice, “Sadie, please don’t blame him. I promise I’ll pay the money back. I’ll go look for a part-time job tomorrow.” “What part-time job?” Patrick interrupted her sharply. “Your ankle hasn’t even healed yet and you want to work? Do you not care about your health?” The corner of Vanessa’s mouth twitched upward in a subtle, triumphant smile. “Then… Sadie, can you just bear with it for a few more days, please?” Tears welled in my eyes, threatening to spill over, but I forced them back with every ounce of my willpower. I refused to cry in front of them. “Give me the money back. Right now.” Patrick froze for a moment. “I don’t have that much liquid cash on hand right now.” “Then go take out a loan!” Patrick’s face darkened completely. “Has money completely corrupted your mind? Are you living your life with cash, or are you living it with me?!” Before I could say another word, he grabbed my arm, shoved me out of the bedroom, and slammed the door shut. “We’ll talk about the money tomorrow! Vanessa isn’t feeling well, she needs to rest!” CLICK. The door locked from the inside. I stood alone in the dark hallway, feeling the sheer absurdity of the situation. A person who grew up terrified of poverty worked for four long years just to build a path to freedom. And in a single fraction of a second, Patrick had taken the path I built over four years and handed it to Vanessa on a silver platter. Late into the night. Lying on my bed, I could hear Vanessa crying softly in the adjacent room. As long as she cried, Patrick stayed by her side, whispering sweet comforts. Gradually, the tears turned into hushed giggles, until finally, I heard Patrick say in a low, husky voice, “Stop squirming around…” I stared at the white ceiling, the sharp pain in my heart slowly numbing into dead silence. I pulled out my phone and clicked on Patrick’s profile. Pinned at the top of his feed was a photo he had posted just an hour ago. Under the exploding fireworks, he and Vanessa were smiling brightly at the camera. Someone in the comment section had asked: Is this your new girlfriend? Patrick had replied: She’s the most important person in my life. Right. He was never a man who lacked romance. It was simply that he reserved all his devotion, passion, and romance for someone else. While my distress, my future, and my pain meant absolutely nothing to him. At the first light of dawn, my phone rang violently. It was my mother, her voice trembling with sheer panic. “Sadie! Where were you last night?! A girl called me claiming you owe her money and won’t pay it back, and that you’re driving her to commit suicide!” “What on earth are you doing out there?! Mom is terrified to death…” It felt as though a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head. “What else did she say to you?” My mother’s voice was shaking uncontrollably. “She said… she said you’re working as a homewrecker, stealing her boyfriend and ruining her life… Sadie, please tell Mom the truth, okay?” I bit down hard on my inner cheek, my chest suffocating with rage. My mother suffered from severe high blood pressure. Stress could literally kill her. Vanessa did this on purpose. I couldn’t even bear to imagine how terrified my mother must have been when she picked up that call. I swallowed my rage, keeping my voice gentle. “Mom, she’s lying to you. She’s the one who stole my money.” My mother grew even more panicked. “Why didn’t you tell me?! Are you struggling for cash out there and suffering all alone?” I choked back a sob. “I’m not short on cash. Please don’t worry about taking on extra manual labor shifts, Mom. I can support you.” “I’ll text you the full story in a little bit.” I threw open the bedroom door, marched over to the bed, and yanked Vanessa up by her hair. “Did you call my mother?!” Vanessa shrank back against the headboard, putting on a frightened face. “I… I was just worried about you!” “What did you say to her?!” Vanessa pursed her lips, staying silent. Patrick immediately stepped between us, pushing me back. “Vanessa was just being thoughtful—” “I asked you what you said to my mother!” I screamed. Vanessa’s voice dropped to a tiny whisper. “I just… I just wanted to send my regards to her…” I didn’t miss the subtle flash of triumph across her face. I raised my hand and delivered a sharp, violent slap across her face. The sound echoed crisp and loud through the room. “Seven years of friendship! You couldn’t wait to ruin my life, could you?!” Vanessa’s head snapped to the side from the impact. She closed her eyes and dramatically collapsed backward onto the bed. In the very next second, Patrick lunged forward and shoved me with terrifying force. I lost my balance and tumbled backward, the side of my forehead slamming hard against the sharp edge of the coffee table. Blackness flashed across my vision for a second. I raised my hand and wiped my forehead. My fingers came back soaked in crimson blood. Patrick rushed over to scoop Vanessa into his arms, glaring at me with eyes full of pure hatred as he bellowed, “You are a complete psycho! No wonder your father abandoned you the day you were born!” I froze on the floor, the deepest, most agonizing scar of my life ripped open alive, rubbed with raw salt. He knew better than anyone that my father had abandoned my mother and me when I was a newborn. And he deliberately used that exact knife to stab me. The pain in my chest was so intense I couldn’t catch my breath. Patrick lifted Vanessa into his arms and walked out the front door without looking back once. He didn’t even grant me a single backward glance. I lay on the cold floor for a long time before slowly pushing myself up into a sitting position. My phone screen lit up with a new email notification. Application Approved: Congratulations! You have been accepted to Imperial College London with a Full Merit Scholarship. I looked at the screen, the corners of my mouth curling into a smile as heavy tears finally crashed down my cheeks. How wonderful. I don’t need you anymore. After an unknown amount of time passed, my phone chimed again. It was a text from Patrick. Having settled Vanessa somewhere comfortable, he had finally remembered that I existed back home. I was too hot-headed earlier, babe. Don’t take it to heart. Vanessa is in a terrible mood, so I won’t be coming home tonight. I’ll bring you a delicious breakfast tomorrow morning. Stay home and be good. Three simple lines, casually brushing everything under the rug. I tapped on Patrick’s profile picture, hit block, and confirmed. Patrick, there is no tomorrow for us. I packed my luggage, took one final look at the apartment, turned on my heel, and headed straight for the airport.

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1 My wife Abby’s phone was perpetually on silent. If I ever needed to reach her, I could never get through. I always had to call everyone around her. On our seventh wedding anniversary, we agreed to meet at our usual restaurant. Three hours passed, and she still hadn’t shown up. Running a fever, I stood on the freezing street, dialing one number after another. My dad’s voice was warm: “Abby just came over to my place for some homemade soup. Don’t worry, son, I’m keeping an eye on her for you.” Gavin, my buddy who worked at Abby’s firm, said, “Relax, Jonah. Abby’s right here in our department, running a meeting.” Even my older sister Vivian promised me, “Abby’s with me at the art gallery. I swear I’ll send her home to you in one piece later tonight.” Finally, my daughter Daisy spoke through her smartwatch: “Mommy is taking me and Grandma toy shopping!” Everyone was trying so hard to prove that Abby was with them. None of them knew she was right in front of me. Through the restaurant window, I watched her tenderly pick fish bones out of a dish for the man sitting across from her. I stared at my pathetic reflection in the glass. Suddenly, I realized it was time to pull out the thorn that had been buried in my heart for years. … I pushed open the private dining room door. The laughter inside instantly died, like someone hit pause. The air conditioning blasted cold against my face. My burning fever felt chilled, and my feverish mind started to clear. “Jonah? How did you find us?” Abby was the first to react. I didn’t answer. I scanned the room until my eyes landed on a massive custom cake. On top were three fondant figurines: a woman in a pencil skirt, a man in a crisp white shirt, and a little girl holding hands between them. Abby, Jasper, and my daughter, Daisy. To anyone else, it looked like a picture-perfect, happy family of three. Daisy was leaning on Jasper’s knee. “Daddy Jasper, happy one hundred days post-surgery! Stay healthy forever!” Jasper’s eyes glistened with tears as he rested his hand gently on her head. “Jasper, sweetie, I brought the gift you wanted!” my mother-in-law’s voice called out from behind. And right behind her, the very people who had just sworn Abby was with them, my dad, my sister, my best friend Gavin, walked through the door holding armfuls of gifts. When they saw me standing by the entrance, the smiles froze on their faces. I looked at Abby and asked quietly, “Abby, did you forget today is our seventh anniversary?” My throat was raw and burning. Every word felt like swallowing razor blades. Abby paused, a flash of guilt flitting across her eyes. “I’m sorry. Jasper’s checkup results were great today, so everyone decided to throw a last-minute celebration.” She reached out to touch my hand, but I stepped back, avoiding her touch. “A last-minute decision?” I pointed at the elaborate fondant cake. “Custom cakes like this take at least three days’ advance notice.” Abby’s hand stiffened in midair, her face darkening. “Jonah, don’t be so narrow-minded. Jasper just went through major surgery. We just wanted to make him happy.” My dad immediately stood up and walked over, his voice low and heavy with disapproval. “Jonah, why are you being so unreasonable? Jasper is Uncle Shen’s only son. Uncle Shen passed away early, so as his old friend, what’s wrong with me taking care of his boy?” Uncle Shen was my father’s first love back in his youth. And for the son of that first love, my dad was willing to use his own son’s anniversary as a token of favor. Gavin chimed in, “Yeah, Jonah, Abby wanted to go see you, but we dragged her here. Don’t throw a scene here, man. It’s embarrassing.” I looked at this group of people, my absolute closest inner circle. “Throw a scene?” I let out a dry laugh, my vision blurring from the fever. Abby sighed, her tone softening slightly. “Jasper has no family left, and his health is fragile. Everyone kept it from you because they knew you’d make a fuss, and no one wanted to ruin a nice meal.” Once again, I was the one who would make a fuss. The first time she stayed in Jasper’s hospital room until dawn, she said she was afraid I would make a fuss. The second time she abandoned me and our daughter at the amusement park, she said she was afraid I would make a fuss. The third time she ran off on my birthday night to pick Jasper up, she still said she was afraid I would make a fuss. As long as she labeled me a lunatic first, every single one of her betrayals and lies became an unavoidable necessity. “Jonah, be good,” she said, her voice gentle and coaxing as she reached out again. “We’ll make it up to you tomorrow. I’ll clear my entire schedule and give you the whole day.” Her tone sounded sweet, but I didn’t miss the faint trace of impatience lurking in her eyes. “Abby, let’s get a divorce.” The room fell dead silent. You could hear a pin drop. Abby’s face finally cracked. “Jonah, what kind of madness is this now?” Jasper suddenly stood up, eyes red. “Jonah, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have let Abby stay with me. Please don’t divorce her because of me…” “You mean man!” Daisy suddenly stormed out like a little cannonball. She grabbed the slice of cake off the table and threw it right at my chest. The suit and hair I had carefully styled for our anniversary were instantly ruined. “You bully! Don’t you dare pick on Daddy Jasper!” Daisy spread her arms wide, shielding Jasper like I was her mortal enemy. “You’re just jealous of Daddy Jasper! You ruined our party! You’re a bad man!” Sticky cream dripped down my collar. I looked down at my ridiculous state, then up at my daughter’s hostile glare. It felt like the razor blades stuck in my throat had just been shoved straight into my heart, carving a bloody path all the way down. “Daisy, what did you just call him?” Abby didn’t even look at the mess on my clothes. She pulled Daisy behind her and held up the trembling, unsteady Jasper. “Jonah, why are you picking a fight with a child?” she snapped, disappointment cold in her voice. “Jasper isn’t fully recovered yet. Do you really have to trigger him right now?” I casually wiped the cream off my face. “Ms. Ruan.” “I’ll have my lawyer draft the divorce agreement and send it to your office. Please sign it when you have time.” Without another glance at them, I turned and walked out. “Jonah!” Footsteps hurried behind me. My sister Vivian and Gavin chased me down, blocking my path at the entrance. “Haven’t you had enough?” Vivian scolded. “Jasper is sick. Can’t you show a little compassion? Abby was just looking out for him, and you’re using divorce as a threat?” I yanked my arm back forcefully. “Does being sick give him the right to ruin someone else’s marriage? Vivian, whose sister are you anyway?” Gavin scoffed, stepping in front of my sister. “Jonah, I am sick of you playing the victim! Truth be told, when Abby had that miscarriage with your second child, it wasn’t because the fetus had a congenital defect at all!” My heart plummeted. I stared at Gavin in shock. Vivian’s expression changed, and she reached out to tug Gavin’s sleeve. “Gavin, stop…” “Let him speak,” I demanded, my voice raspy and broken. Gavin brushed Vivian’s hand away and laughed bitterly. “That baby was developing perfectly fine! But Jasper had just lost his ability to become a father due to his illness. If you and Abby had a second child right then, he wouldn’t have been able to handle the shock!” “So your sister, as an OB-GYN, deliberately tricked you both into believing the baby had severe birth defects and convinced Abby to terminate the pregnancy!” “Back then, you only got the chance to marry Abby because Jasper went abroad. But having one child wasn’t enough for you, was it? You wanted a second one! We were all just trying to protect Jasper! Why do you always have to be so selfish and compete with him for everything?” The buzzing of cicadas echoed endlessly in my ears. Gavin’s lips kept moving, but I couldn’t hear a single word after that. Five years ago, when Gavin was fired from his company, I begged Abby to find him a good position. He held my hands with tears in his eyes back then, swearing he would look out for Abby on my behalf. I looked at my sister’s guilty, avoiding eyes, and stomach acid surged up my throat. That was the child I had eagerly anticipated for three months. My baby. Her own flesh-and-blood nephew. After Abby’s miscarriage, I spent every day drowning in guilt and self-blame. She had held me gently, promising we would have other children. Turns out everyone knew the truth. Only I, like a total fool, wept for a child that had been murdered by my own family. A sudden gasp came from the private room. “Jasper fainted!” Abby rushed out carrying the unconscious Jasper, with Daisy following behind, crying hysterically. Vivian immediately hurried over to help Abby get Jasper into a car. When Abby ran past me, she didn’t even spare me a glance. Her shoulder shoved against my arm. Weak and dizzy from the high fever, I lost my balance and tumbled onto the scalding asphalt street. Beads of blood seeped from my scraped knees. Abby’s car sped away with a roar. A restaurant server came over to help me up. “Sir, you look like you have a severe fever! Do you need an ambulance?” I politely declined her kindness. My phone vibrated in my pocket. It was the teacher from Daisy’s preschool. “Mr. Jonah, I’m so sorry to bother you this late. Daisy left her art portfolio in the classroom. Summer break starts tomorrow, so the school will be locked up. I tried calling her mother and her second emergency contact, Mr. Jasper, but neither picked up.” “So I had to call you, her third emergency contact. Are you free to pick it up tomorrow?” I froze, unable to process her words. “Ms. Harper, what did you just say? Which emergency contact am I?” “The third contact. Last month, Daisy’s mother came in and updated the forms. She made herself the first contact and Mr. Jasper the second.” “I thought… I thought you two were already divorced.” I stared at the blood dripping down my knees and let out a soft, bitter laugh. “I see. I’ll pick it up tomorrow.” That night, neither Abby nor Daisy came home. I stopped asking where they were. I quietly packed my things. After seven years of marriage, everything I owned couldn’t even fill a single suitcase. The next morning, I went to the preschool and opened Daisy’s art portfolio. On the first page was a drawing of a handsome man in a white shirt holding a little girl’s hand. Beside it, in clumsy handwriting, it read: Daddy Jasper is a prince. On the second page was a woman in a skirt and the man in the white shirt: Mommy and Daddy Jasper will be together forever. Every single page featured Jasper. Until the very last page. In the bottom corner was a dark figure with messy hair, wearing black clothes. His face was painted a terrifying green, holding a whip covered in thorns. Beside it was written: Go away, evil wizard. That was who I was in my daughter’s eyes. Leaving the preschool, I called my lawyer directly. “Mr. Bennett, is the divorce agreement ready?” “It’s ready, Mr. Jonah. But are you sure you want to give up custody of Daisy? If you fight for it, you have a very strong case.” “I’m not fighting for her.” I stood under the scorching sun, looking at the wilted leaves on the trees. “She already chose her father.” That afternoon, I took the printed divorce agreement to Abby’s firm. When I pushed open her office door, the room was full. Jasper sat beside Abby, his eyes shining as they discussed which monastery had the most effective protection medallions. Seeing me enter, my mother-in-law slammed her teacup onto the table. “You still have the nerve to show your face here? Jasper nearly had a heart attack last night because of your antics! How can you be so cruel?” “Abby works so hard every day, and you keep making a mess at home. If you just stayed in your lane, would Jasper be suffering like this?” Ignoring her accusations, I walked straight to Abby’s desk and placed the document before her. “Sign it.” Abby glanced at the words Divorce Agreement on the cover, and her expression instantly darkened. “Jonah, can you stop throwing tantrums? Jasper is still sick. Do you really have to ruin our family right now?” My dad rushed over and slapped me hard across the face. “Apologize to Jasper right now! Are you trying to drive him to death?” My cheek throbbed with a burning pain. I raised my head and stared silently at these people. My sister Vivian and my friend Gavin were carefully shielding Jasper. Daisy held Jasper’s hand, her face lit up with joy. “Daddy Jasper, if Mommy divorces him, can you be my real daddy?” Jasper looked panicked and quickly covered her mouth. I pulled at the corner of my mouth in a self-deprecating smile. “The terms are complete. You keep the child. I only want what is rightfully mine.” “Ms. Ruan, isn’t this the outcome you all wanted?” Abby’s pupils shrank violently. Jasper began to sob softly. “Abby, it’s all my fault. I’ll move out. Don’t be mad at Jonah…” Abby took a deep breath, suppressing the panic in her eyes. She picked up the agreement and let out a soft sigh. “Jonah, you know that with me, everything requires an equal exchange.” She pushed the agreement back to me, her eyes firm. “If you go to Pine Mountain Monastery in the next county right now and get a protection medallion for Jasper, I will sign this agreement immediately.” “However, to get a medallion from Pine Mountain, you have to kneel at every step and climb nine hundred and ninety-nine steps to the top. You’ve never been able to handle hardship. If you’re unwilling, then…” “Fine.” I cut her off. I put the agreement back into my bag and turned to leave. Abby froze. She clearly hadn’t expected me to agree so readily, bypassing the retreat she had so carefully left for herself. “Abby, let him go!” my dad’s voice boomed from behind. “He’s been spoiled his whole life. Let’s see how long he can keep up this act!” I didn’t turn back. I wasn’t going to get a protection medallion for Jasper. I was going to get a release for myself. Only when I brought back that medallion would Abby sign, allowing me to sever ties with all of them forever. Driving toward Pine Mountain, the sky grew darker as I approached the neighboring county. A red torrential rain warning popped up on my phone. I instinctively tightened my grip on the steering wheel. The fever seemed to surge back with a vengeance. Downpours sheeted the road, and the radio repeatedly warned of mudslides and hazardous driving conditions. There was no turning back. The monastery was on the mountain, and the winding road was slick with mud. Suddenly, an out-of-control semi-truck barreled out of the oncoming lane. Its blinding high beams blinded me. I swerved hard, and my car smashed violently into the guardrail. Everything turned crimson. Trapped by the airbag, I used my last ounce of strength to grope for my phone. A call from Daisy came in. “Daisy… call an ambulance for Daddy… I crashed…” Daisy’s impatient voice came through the speaker. “You’re lying again. Mommy was right, you’re just a bad man who loves making a scene!” “I didn’t call to check on you. I called to tell you that you better bring back that medallion so you can make room for Daddy Jasper faster!” Click. She hung up. The phone screen flickered twice and went completely black. As my consciousness drifted into darkness, I felt a strange sense of relief. In this world, no one was waiting for me to come home. Then let it end like this. Jasper had merely mentioned feeling a slight chest discomfort, and Abby had treated it like a major emergency, surrounding him like royalty as they rushed him into the examination room. Now, Abby stood in the hallway, staring anxiously at her phone, which kept indicating a failed connection. “Is Jonah’s phone still unreachable?” Vivian walked over, handing her a cup of coffee. “Jasper’s fine. The doctor said he just needs rest.” Abby shoved her phone into her pocket, her face cold. “Leave him be. When he thinks it through, he’ll come back on his own.” Just as she spoke, rushed footsteps echoed from the end of the hallway. Several paramedics sprinted past, pushing a gurney. The person on the gurney was covered in blood, an oxygen mask strapped over his face. Abby instinctively stepped aside to let them pass. As the gurney rushed past her, a drop of fresh blood splattered onto her shoe. Her phone rang again. She quickly checked it, but it wasn’t my call. It was a local hospital landline. “Hello, is this the family of Jonah?” “This is the ER at Central Hospital. Mr. Jonah was involved in a severe car accident and is currently in critical condition. Please come immediately to sign the consent forms.”

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1 Wesley was a star student sponsored by my family. To dodge an arranged marriage, I hired him to play my boyfriend for two years. The deal was simple: if he didn’t fall for me by the end, we would part ways amicably. We did everything sweet couples do. We dated on campus, met the parents, and eventually set a wedding date. Until the day of the wedding. In front of a room full of guests, he pulled another woman close and kissed his bride. Except the bride in that white gown was my best friend. He turned to me and said, “A deal is just words on paper. Life moves on. Minnie is the one I love.” Everyone waited for me to lose my mind and cause a scene. Instead, I just shook my head and let out a quiet laugh. “When a lapdog forgets his place, you don’t fight him. You toss him out.” … I stood in the dressing room, staring into the full-length mirror at the custom designer gown I hadn’t taken off yet. The grand wedding meant for me had become someone else’s fairy tale. The door burst open with violent force. In walked Wesley, the man I had loved for two years, alongside Minnie, the friend I had trusted for half a decade. Everyone in our social circle knew Wesley was a charity case elevated by my family. His parents were broke farmers. My family had covered every penny of his expenses, from high school prep to his top-tier university degree. Tuition, room, board, wardrobe, allowance, we paid for all of it. I used to believe that no human heart was made of stone, that warmth could melt anyone. So I poured everything into him, falling for him for real. Wesley stood tall, sharp and handsome in his tuxedo. There wasn’t a trace of guilt or panic in his eyes. Only cold indifference, laced with a flicker of annoyance. Minnie clung to his arm like a delicate vine, draped in a bridal gown. Her pale cheeks blushed with a sickeningly sweet glow, though a sinister gleam of triumph danced in her eyes. They walked toward me side by side. “Eva,” Wesley spoke first, his tone unnervingly calm. “It isn’t what you think.” I stared at him in silence, refusing to cry, refusing to scream. “Our two-year agreement is up. I’ve played my part. You used your family’s financial favor to tie down two years of my youth. To me, this was never love. It was a golden cage.” He reached up and gently brushed a loose strand of hair behind Minnie’s ear. The tenderness in his eyes was a level of devotion he had never once offered me. “Minnie is my soulmate. We love each other. We endured nearly two years in secret because of your overbearing claim on me. If you hadn’t held that financial debt over my head, we would have been together long ago.” Minnie’s eyes instantly welled with tears. She timidly clutched Wesley’s sleeve, letting out a soft sob. “Eva, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to steal your wedding. Wesley and I are truly in love. We couldn’t control our feelings.” A tag-team act, twisting facts upside down. I couldn’t help letting out a cold, bitter laugh. Wesley spoke up again, perfectly composed. “Minnie and I already registered our marriage abroad. Our love is official now, and I’ve given her the title she deserves.” “However, I won’t turn my back on your family’s support, nor will I ruin your reputation. Next week, I’ll register a domestic marriage with you.” “From now on, we won’t interfere in each other’s personal lives. I will give you the respect of being my legal wife in public, and you will continue to back my research and provide resources. Once I am fully established, everything will work out for both of us.” Outside the room, staff and guests passed by, whispering among themselves. Their eyes kept darting toward me. Some offered pity, some enjoyed the drama, while others looked away in awkward silence. Wesley was utterly convinced I was hopelessly in love with him. He believed my pride wouldn’t allow me to walk away empty-handed after two years, nor would I let myself become the laughingstock of the city. He assumed I had no choice but to swallow the insult and remain his financial backing. I lowered my head, taking one last look at the pristine white dress. When I raised my eyes, my gaze was ice cold. “Don’t bother.” A flash of genuine surprise flickered across Wesley’s face. I slowly reached up and ripped the veil from my hair. “Keep your true love. Keep your legal title for Minnie.” “The debt is cleared. Wesley, you and I are done.” 2 I turned and walked away. Behind me, Wesley’s voice dropped to a dark register. “Think carefully, Eva. If you walk out that door today, I won’t give you a second chance.” My steps never slowed. My phone vibrated in my hand. It was a text from my mother: Eva, I’ve sent a driver for you. Come straight home. In those few words, I could feel her barely suppressed rage. She had never approved of Wesley from day one, but I had been stubborn. I stepped into the car and told the driver, “To the office. I have work to handle.” At the corporate headquarters, top floor. My assistant, Hannah, knocked and entered. “Ms. Montgomery, the tech department is asking if we have a backup for the core code in Wesley’s research proposal.” “No,” I said, taking a sip of black coffee as the bitterness coated my tongue. “I trusted him too much back then to bother with a non-disclosure agreement.” Hannah hesitated, looking like she wanted to say more. “Speak up.” “Wesley just posted on his feed.” She handed me her tablet. On the screen was a wedding photo of him and Minnie. The caption read: So glad it’s you. Wesley had even replied to a comment below: Thank you everyone. It wasn’t an easy road for Minnie and me, but we made it. Then a text notification popped up from Wesley on my phone. Eva, we need to talk. I didn’t reply. It’s about the technical proposal. Our usual spot. If you don’t show up, you’ll regret the consequences. That spot was the high-end Japanese restaurant where we had our very first date. Back then, he had just won an academic scholarship and claimed he wanted to treat me to dinner. I had once canceled a board gala just to squeeze onto a crowded subway in an evening gown to meet him there. In the private dining booth, Wesley was already waiting. “Eva, I apologize for what happened today.” “But we agreed from the start. Two years. If I didn’t love you, we’d part ways with dignity.” He emphasized the word dignity. “You were the one who took it seriously and insisted on planning a wedding,” he paused. “Playing along with you until now is more than generous on my part.” I picked up my glass of sake, forcing down the urge to splash it across his face. “So you deliberately waited until the wedding ceremony to humiliate me? Was that your idea of dignity?” “It wasn’t like that…” “Get to the point,” I snapped, cutting him off. “I’m not wasting another second on you.” He pulled a document out of his leather briefcase, looking resigned. “I can let your company keep using the tech proposal.” “Your terms?” “First, your family continues to fund my doctorate project. Second, Montgomery Corp guarantees exclusive investment in my new venture for the next five years.” “Third,” he looked straight into my eyes, his tone brimming with unshakeable confidence, “we still get legally married.” I set down my glass. “I can understand the first two demands. But why the third?” Wesley gave a low, cynical chuckle. “Eva, don’t be naive. You announced in front of everyone that our debt was settled. How am I supposed to climb the social ladder after that? Everyone will call me a gold-digger who used a rich girl and discarded her.” “So you’re just trying to save face.” His expression turned dark. “It doesn’t matter what you call it. What matters is public perception. You know how hard I worked to get where I am today.” Of course I knew. Every step of his climb was built on my family’s money and connections. “Wesley, I refuse every single one of your terms.” He snapped his head up, stunned by my blunt refusal. “When I say a bridge is burned, it stays burned.” I grabbed the document and ripped it into pieces right in front of his face. The composed mask he wore finally shattered. He stood up abruptly. “Are you insane? Do you have any idea how critical this project is for your firm? If your father finds out…” “I already know.” The paper door slid open. My father stood at the entrance, dressed in a sharp suit, the gray hair at his temples slightly more pronounced than the last time I saw him. He didn’t even spare Wesley a glance. He looked only at me and said softly, “Eva, let’s go home.” Wesley stood frozen in place. I followed my father out to the car. Inside the vehicle, he broke the silence. “Eva, do you know what makes me proudest of you?” I didn’t answer. “It’s not your grades or your business sense,” his eyes crinkled with quiet warmth. “It’s that when you fall, you never sit around waiting for someone to pick you up.” My nose stung, and tears finally spilled over my lashes. 3 The next morning, I gathered my emotions and prepped for work. Passing my father’s study, I caught his hushed voice on the phone: “Delay it a bit longer. Eva just went through a rough patch, I can’t add to her stress right now…” I pushed the door open. My father hung up instantly, putting on a calm smile. “Heading to the office today? I’ll have Thomas drive you.” “Dad, are you hiding something from me?” “What could I possibly hide?” He waved his hand dismissively. “Your old man is doing just fine.” I didn’t push further, but an unsettling dread settled deep in my chest. A week later. In the middle of an executive board meeting, my phone buzzed incessantly. It was my mother. “Eva, get to Central Hospital right now! Your father… he collapsed. They’re trying to revive him…” My mind went completely blank, the world going dead silent. By the time I rushed to the hospital, my father was already inside the Intensive Care Unit. My mother sat alone on the corridor bench, her eyes bloodshot, clutching a medical chart so tightly her knuckles turned white. “Mom, what happened to Dad?” She looked up, her lips trembling violently. “He was diagnosed with leukemia three months ago. He hid it from both of us and underwent chemotherapy in secret.” “He wouldn’t let me tell you. He didn’t want to distract you…” My legs gave out, and I had to lean against the wall to stay upright. “His condition deteriorated rapidly. He needs an emergency bone marrow transplant.” She handed me the report. “I’ve been tested, along with all our relatives. None of us are a match. Eva, you’re his last hope.” “Test me right now.” The cross-matching process took three agonizing days. For those three days, I spent my mornings by the hospital bed and my nights drowning in corporate files. On the afternoon of the third day, inside the chief physician’s office: “Ms. Montgomery, your results are in.” The doctor adjusted his glasses, his voice heavy with sympathy. “Regrettably, your marrow is not a match for your father.” I stood there, stunned. “How is that possible? I’m his biological daughter…” “Genetic compatibility can be unpredictable,” the doctor explained gently. “We will search the national donor registry immediately, but you should also ask friends and acquaintances to get tested.” I walked out of the office, staring blankly at the bustling hospital corridor. Then I posted a public update on my social feed: My father is critically ill and urgently requires a bone marrow match. A substantial reward will be provided for a suitable donor. Overnight, the news rippled through the entire high-society circle. Early the next morning, an unexpected figure appeared outside the ICU. Wesley. “What are you doing here?” I frowned, my voice cold. “Your father is sick. I came to see him.” His tone was unnervingly tender, and he even reached out as if to smooth my hair. “You look so exhausted.” “I don’t need your pity. Get out.” I turned to walk away, but he grabbed my wrist. “Eva, I got tested.” I snapped my head around to glare at him. He handed me a laboratory document. It showed a perfect ten out of ten match for transplant compatibility. I stared at the paper, my emotions a chaotic storm. Wesley gave me a subtle, triumphant smile. “Eva, I’m glad. Maybe this is our second chance.” His voice was soft, but every word hit like a brick. “I will donate my marrow. But only on one condition: we get back together.” I met his gaze coldly. “And Minnie is just fine with that?” “I spoke with Minnie. She understands,” he paused, stepping closer. “Eva, over these past few days, I realized I still can’t let you go.” He put on an earnest look. “You used to be so high and mighty, and my insecurity made me crave Minnie’s admiration. But after you left, I realized you’re the one I love. I hope it’s not too late.” I let out a mock laugh. “So you want to have your cake and eat it too?” He pulled me into an embrace. “Minnie will move abroad later. I’ll visit her occasionally. As for us, we’ll stay here as the perfect power couple.” He paused, lowering his tone. “Besides… your father’s illness can’t wait.” “Fine.” I heard my own voice reply, eerily calm. “I agree. But you donate your marrow first and ensure my father’s surgery is successful.” He pulled a pre-drafted legal document from his coat pocket and held it out. “Sign this.” I glanced down at the title: Binding Agreement: Eva Montgomery agrees to legally marry Wesley upon successful organ donation, with a five million dollar breach penalty. I picked up a pen and signed my name without an ounce of hesitation. Marriage, after all, was just words on a piece of paper. 4 Wesley wasn’t in a rush to schedule the surgery right away. And I didn’t push him either. Instead, I acted like a devoted girlfriend again, appearing downstairs at his apartment complex every morning to deliver fresh coffee and warm breakfast sandwiches. “You have a sensitive stomach. Stop skipping breakfast.” As he took the coffee, his fingers brushed mine, making him freeze for a brief second. “Eva, you don’t have to do all this…” “I want to treat you well,” I offered a soft smile. “I used to be too proud and distant. Looking back, I was terrible to you.” “It’s really good,” he murmured, taking a sip. Soon enough, Wesley became far more attentive. At first, it was, “Don’t bother bringing breakfast, sleep in a little.” Then it turned into, “Let’s go to that Japanese place, for old time’s sake.” Over sushi, after a few drinks, his eyes grew slightly glazed. “Back when I won my first scholarship, I didn’t have enough to treat you. I was terrified you’d look down on me, so I saved up half a month of food money just to book this place.” “I know,” I said gently. “You wore your only sweater without holes in it that night. The collar was washed completely pale,” I placed a piece of salmon on his plate. “I also know you came here beforehand to check the menu prices and calculated the math three times before asking me out.” He froze, his eyes slowly turning red. “Eva, you…” “I never looked down on you,” I looked into his eyes with absolute sincerity. “You were the one who assumed I was looking down on you.” That night, he walked me back to my apartment building and stood in the courtyard for a long time. The moment I pulled my curtains shut, I sent a text to Minnie. Minnie, Wesley is going to the hospital for a checkup tomorrow. Want to join us? She replied instantly: What are you playing at, Eva? Bragging? Wesley still has feelings for you, and I don’t want to come between you two. But he’s saving my dad right now, so I just want to be good to him. Don’t mind me. A five-minute silence followed on the screen. Fine. I’m coming. The next morning, Minnie showed up at the hospital lobby right on cue. The second she walked in, she wrapped her arm around Wesley’s, her voice dripping sweet. “Wesley, I missed you so much.” Wesley instinctively glanced at me. I smiled gently. “You two catch up. I’ll go grab our queue numbers.” When I returned, Minnie was wiping away tears, her voice choked. “You said you only loved me! You promised you’d end things with her as soon as her dad’s surgery was over…” I walked over as if I hadn’t heard a word and handed the ticket to Wesley. “It’s your turn. Head on in.” He didn’t move, staring at me. “Did you hear that?” I chuckled, reaching out to straighten his collar. “Hear what? Go on, I’ll be right here waiting for you.” Minnie’s face turned completely pale in an instant. Because she realized that the way Wesley looked at me had entirely changed. From that day on, Minnie began throwing desperate tantrums. She posted old photos with Wesley on her social feed with captions like: Nostalgia is poison. I liked every single one of her posts and commented below: You two were so sweet back then. She messaged me, calling me a fake bitch. I replied: Minnie, I genuinely wish you both the best. If Wesley wants private time with you, I can step back anytime. Minnie took a screenshot and sent it to Wesley: Look at how fake she is! Wesley frowned heavily. “Minnie, can you stop making a scene? Eva has been more than generous to you.” Minnie completely lost her mind. She couldn’t understand why the harder she pushed, the closer Wesley drifted toward me. Later, I offered to treat Minnie to dinner as an apology. The three of us sat at the same table. Minnie kept a sour face the entire evening. I smiled and placed food onto her dish. “Minnie, you’ve lost weight recently. Eat a bit more.” She sneered, “Eva, cut the hypocritical act.” I set my fork down, my eyes turning slightly red. “I know you hate me, but I always considered you a friend. I haven’t tried to stop you and Wesley from being together, have I?” Wesley grabbed my hand and snapped at Minnie, “Minnie, that is enough!” Minnie slammed her utensils down and stormed out. I urged him softly, “Go after her. Don’t leave her alone.” He hesitated for a second, then ran out. Five minutes later, he returned alone. “Put her in a cab?” I asked. “Yeah.” He sat down beside me and suddenly pulled me into his arms. “Eva, how can you be so good to me?” 5 Wesley began showing up at my family’s corporate office with increasing frequency. He volunteered to optimize the core algorithms for our tech department, working past midnight and showing up the next morning with dark circles under his eyes just to see me. “Don’t push yourself so hard,” I handed him a mug of warm milk. “I want to help you,” he looked into my eyes. “In the past, I only thought about taking resources from your family. I never realized that you needed someone to rely on, too.” I smiled quietly, saying nothing. The bone marrow transplant surgery finally went smoothly. On the day my father was discharged, Wesley came to pick us up. He bowed deeply to my father. “Sir, I’m sorry. I was an idiot in the past.” My father looked at me, but I remained silent. “If you truly treat Eva well going forward…” My father let out a long sigh. “As her father, what more can I say?” Wesley’s eyes welled with heat, and he dropped to his knees right there, bowing his head to the ground. I pulled him up, dusting the dirt off his knees. “Alright, let’s just live a good life from now on.” In the car, he gripped my hand tightly. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. If you’ll have me.” I didn’t answer, turning my head to watch the neon lights streak past the window. Have you? Of course I will. In the days that followed, Wesley became a changed man. He turned down every social invite and arrived at my office every day at five on the dot to pick me up. He began memorizing my favorite foods, my tiny habits, and every random thought I voiced. He even went out of his way to delete all of Minnie’s contact info. Minnie came to find me once, her makeup ruined from crying. “Eva, you won, alright? Can you please just give him back to me?” I handed her a tissue. “Minnie, I didn’t steal him. He chose to stay on his own.” “You’re lying! You deliberately played nice, acted all generous in front of him, and drove me crazy so he would hate me…” I smiled gently. “If that’s what you want to believe, there’s nothing I can say.” That night, Wesley asked me what Minnie had wanted. I said, “She misses you. Do you want to give her a call?” He shook his head. “No. Some people belong in the past.” On Friday, Wesley reserved an entire restaurant, claiming he had a massive surprise for me. When I arrived, the place was filled with red roses and white balloons. He dropped to one knee, opening a velvet box revealing a sparkling diamond ring. “Eva, marry me.” I looked at the ring and smiled softly. “Alright.” He leapt up in excitement and embraced me tightly, his voice trembling. “I will treat you right for the rest of my life.” I whispered in his ear, “Tomorrow at eleven, let’s go to the courthouse and register our marriage.” Wesley squeezed me even tighter. The next morning, I silenced Wesley’s relentless flurry of incoming calls and switched my phone completely off. Out in the scorching summer sun outside the city registry office, Wesley was drenched in sweat. Suddenly, a text notification flashed on his tablet from his lab junior. Senior, did you see the news? What news? Eva… it looks like she’s already married.

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1 The heavy glass doors of City Hall were slowly gliding shut when Danny called to cancel our marriage registration. “Lilah lost her cat,” he said, his voice laced with stress. “She’s terrified and crying alone in the street. I really can’t leave her.” I froze, the cool marble floor beneath my heels suddenly feeling unsteady. “We can get registered anytime,” he added, as if explaining something obvious to a child. “If the cat wanders too far, she’ll never get it back.” Through the receiver, I caught the soft, wet sound of a girl sobbing, followed by a fragile murmur: “Please tell your girlfriend not to be mad at me…” I looked down at the creased document folder in my hands. “Danny, we scheduled this appointment a month ago. Nana is sitting at home right now, waiting for us.” A heavy sigh echoed through the speaker. In all the years we had been together, whenever he sighed like that, I was always the one to back down. “Go find her cat then,” I whispered. He exhaled, relieved. “I knew you’d understand. You’ve always been the sensible one.” Once upon a time, I was the one who received that gentle protection. The first time we crossed the Old Mill Bridge, I had been trembling with fear. He held my hand tightly, promising he would never let go. The bridge was still there. The cold wind still swept through the valley. But the hand holding mine had opened and let me fall. … “Stella, sweetie, why are you back alone?” Nana was standing by the porch gate, watching me from down the lane. Last night, she had carefully wrapped my birth certificate and legal IDs in a red velvet pouch, placing it in my palm. “Once you cross that bridge, you’ll start your own family,” she had whispered. Now, the pouch sat in my purse, its crimson drawstrings dangling loose. I didn’t want to compromise anymore. “Something came up at his office,” I lied softly. “We couldn’t make it today.” Nana offered a reassuring smile. “Work is important. A good man takes his responsibilities seriously. It’s normal to be busy.” She paused, wiping her dusty hands on her apron. “When’s the next open slot? Don’t you need to make an appointment online?” I lowered my eyes. “We’ll see.” She didn’t press further. Taking the red velvet pouch, she placed it on the dining table and slowly smoothed out the wrinkled edges. “I’ll keep this safe for you. You’ll need it next time.” Her eyesight was poor. It had taken her three frustrating attempts to thread the needle last night just to embroider a small gold luck symbol on the cloth for us. My phone chimed with a text from Danny. Lilah has calmed down. I’ll come pick you up tonight. Explain things to your grandmother. Don’t let her worry. I stared at the screen for a long time. So he knew Nana would worry. He simply didn’t care enough to show up anyway. At seven in the evening, Danny’s black sedan pulled up at the mouth of the alley. Nana walked me to the gate, holding the red pouch in her frail hands. “Stella, take it with you. What if you can register tomorrow morning?” Before I could decline, Danny stepped out of the driver’s seat and took the pouch from her with a polished smile. “Don’t worry, Nana. I’ll handle everything.” His voice was smooth and calm, as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Nana smiled, the deep wrinkles around her eyes crinkling. “Danny, Stella can be shy and anxious. Take good care of her.” Danny glanced at me, his eyes cool. “She isn’t that fragile anymore, Nana. Though she does like to get stuck in her own head sometimes.” Nana missed the edge in his voice and patted my hand gently. “When building a life together, don’t fuss over minor setbacks.” As the car rolled over the Old Mill Bridge, the streetlights flickered on one by one. That bridgehead was where I had waited for him earlier today, staring at the City Hall building across the street. Danny tossed the red pouch onto the center console. “I’m sorry about today.” “Lilah’s cat means everything to her,” he continued. “She grew up with no family security. She doesn’t have many people to rely on.” “I know.” “Good.” He let out a soft breath and reached over to pat the back of my hand. “Stella, you and she are different. You have your grandmother, and you have me. She only has herself.” I pulled my hand back, letting his fingers brush uselessly against the velvet pouch. “Don’t hold a grudge over something so small,” he urged. “We can pick another day for the license.” I heard my own voice ask quietly, “If it were my paperwork that went missing today, if I were the one crying alone outside City Hall, would you have come?” Silence stretched inside the car. Then he let out a short, amused chuckle. “You wouldn’t cry over something like that.” Those words settled over me like a layer of frost. Because I wouldn’t cry, I could be kept waiting. Because I wouldn’t cry, I was expected to yield. Because I wouldn’t cry, I could always be placed last. When the car stopped outside my apartment complex, Danny unbuckled his seatbelt and held out the red pouch. “I booked a nice table for dinner tomorrow night. My treat to make it up to you.” I didn’t reach for it. His brows pulled together in a slight scowl. “Stella, that’s enough. Don’t drag this out.” I stared at the deep red cloth. “Danny, do you even remember what day it is?” Impatience flickered across his features, though he kept his tone even. “Our registration day. Of course I remember.” “No.” I picked up the pouch and pushed the car door open. “It’s also the anniversary of my parents’ death.” Danny’s hand froze on the steering wheel. As I stepped out into the chilly night, I heard him call my name behind me. The light fixture on the second floor landing was broken, leaving half the stairs swallowed in darkness. My phone buzzed in my pocket. I’m so sorry. I forgot. I stood in the shadows on the stairwell, staring at the glowing screen. I didn’t reply. 2 A wave of hushed whispers drifted from the hallway outside the open office door. Lilah stood near the entrance, holding a stack of pristine folders. She had dropped off documents at our firm before, but today was different. Danny was standing right behind her. The department manager rushed over with a warm smile. “Mr. Mercer, who is this?” Danny answered smoothly. “This is Lilah. She’s being temporarily reassigned to your team to help organize project archives.” The manager nodded briskly, then turned toward my desk. “Stella, why don’t you show her the ropes? You work closely with Mr. Mercer anyway, so it’ll make communication easier.” Lilah walked over to my desk, her voice soft and timid. “Stella, I’ll be in your care. I am so sorry about yesterday. Danny told me you wouldn’t stay mad, but I still couldn’t sleep a wink worrying about it.” I looked at her, my posture rigid. “Our team is extremely busy right now. Organizing archives isn’t just filing papers.” Danny stepped forward, his knuckles rapping twice against my desk. “Lilah learns quickly. Just give her a quick walkthrough.” “I don’t have time.” His voice dropped an octave, laced with a quiet warning. “Stella, keep your personal feelings out of the workplace.” The room fell dead silent. Several coworkers turned to stare. Someone whispered in the corner, “Wait, are they having a fight?” Lilah’s eyes instantly welled with tears. “Stella, please don’t be hard on Danny. I can go to another department. Really, it’s fine…” Danny glanced down at her, his expression softening immediately. “You don’t need to go anywhere.” He turned back to me, his jaw set. “She just wants to learn. There’s no need to be so defensive.” Looking at the man I had loved for six years, I suddenly felt like I was staring at a stranger. “If that is your decision, Mr. Mercer, then we’ll follow standard company procedure.” He blinked, visibly caught off guard. I had always called him Danny. When I was annoyed, I still called him Danny. The title “Mr. Mercer” was reserved for joking in front of clients. This was no joke. At lunch, Lilah trailed behind me in the cafeteria, clutching a pink bento box. “Stella, please don’t blame Danny,” she pleaded quietly. “He’s under a lot of pressure lately, and he’s been taking care of me on top of everything else. He probably just didn’t pay attention to the details.” My best friend, Brooke, sat down next to me and let out a harsh laugh. “He can’t pay attention to his own fiancée, but he has all the time in the world to worry about your crying fits?” Tears spilled over Lilah’s lashes. People at nearby tables began turning around. She panicked, hastily wiping her cheeks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just feel like Stella already has so much. Her grandmother adores her, and Danny loves her. I grew up with nothing, so I guess I just got a little greedy…” Danny walked over with his tray, casually pulling a paper napkin to dab the tears from her face. “What are you crying for?” Lilah shook her head. “It’s nothing. I just said the wrong thing.” Danny looked over at me, his forehead creased with deep frustration. “She just got here. Do you really have to do this?” I didn’t bother explaining. Months ago, I would have explained. I would have dissected every painful detail for him to understand. But when someone has decided not to listen, every word you say sounds like unreasonable nagging. I grabbed my tray and stood up. Danny reached out and gripped my wrist firmly. “You haven’t finished eating.” “I’m not hungry.” “Stella, sit down.” His grip wasn’t painful, but it was firm enough to lock me in place. I looked down at his fingers wrapped around my wrist. That was the same hand that used to lead me across the old stone bridge. The same hand that had forgotten I was waiting for him on the anniversary of my parents’ deaths. I yanked my wrist free and walked straight out of the cafeteria. Behind me, I heard Lilah’s timid voice. “Danny, you should go after her. I’ll be okay on my own.” Danny hesitated for a moment. Then he said, “Eat your lunch first.” That night, Danny didn’t come to my apartment. He sent a single text message. Let me know when you’ve cooled off. I stared at the glowing phone screen, remembering the countless times we had argued over the past year. Every single conflict ended with that exact phrase. It was as if all my hurt and boundary setting were nothing more than a childish tantrum that simply needed time to fade. 3 The next morning, during our project status meeting, the manager beamed at the team. “Lilah put a lot of heart into organizing the archives for the Old Mill Bridge Renovation Project. Mr. Mercer reviewed it and said her core concept looks great.” The projection screen lit up. The slide displayed my initial draft, right down to the punctuation marks in the subheadings. Lilah stood up, her voice trembling slightly with performative nervousness. “I put this together last night using Stella’s old notes as a reference. If anything looks wrong, please feel free to correct me.” I looked up at Danny, sitting at the head of the conference table. “That proposal is mine.” The room plunged into awkward silence. Lilah’s face drained of color. “Stella, I didn’t mean to steal your work! I thought since you put it in the shared team folder, it was meant for me to use.” The manager looked uncomfortable, but Danny smoothly stepped in to bridge the gap. “Stella, Lilah was just formatting the material. There’s no reason to embarrass her in public.” “It’s my intellectual property,” I said coldly. “I know,” Danny replied, his tone infuriatingly steady. “Which is why I said she was just organizing it.” Lilah immediately hung her head, tears dripping onto her notebook. “Danny, leave it alone. It’s all my fault.” Danny kept his eyes fixed on me. “Moving forward, you two will co-manage the Old Mill Bridge project. The credits will list the project team, not individual names.” The tip of my pen snapped against the paper, leaving a dark, ugly line across my notes. I had fought for six months to get assigned to the Old Mill Bridge project. That bridge was the road that led to Nana’s house. The vintage lamp posts along its stone parapets had broken down years ago, and I had deliberately designed the blueprints to preserve the original stonework. I wanted to restore it because it was my way home. “Stella, I always thought you knew how to keep work and personal life separate,” Danny said, his tone dripping with quiet disappointment, as if I were the one letting everyone down. After the meeting, Lilah cornered me in the breakroom. “Stella, do you really hate me that much?” she sobbed softly. “I know you think Danny favors me, but I swear I never wanted to take anything from you. When I was little and had no one, Danny helped me out once. I’ve always viewed him as an older brother.” Seeing my lack of reaction, her tears flowed faster. “Please don’t be so cold to me. It really scares me.” I picked up my mug and stepped around her. “If you’re scared, stay away from me.” She froze. The next second, Danny stepped through the doorway, pulling her behind his shoulder. “Do you really have to bite everyone’s head off today?” I raised my mug. “I just told her to keep her distance.” “She was trying to apologize!” “She stole my work.” “I told you, that was a misunderstanding!” I stared directly into his eyes. “If I were the one who took her work today, would you call it a misunderstanding?” Danny went quiet for a moment. “You wouldn’t do something like that.” A faint, bitter smile touched my lips. It sounded like trust. But I knew better. He only said it because he knew I was mature, sensible, and obsessed with keeping up appearances. I was the safe option, the one who would never make a mess or make him look bad. By mid-afternoon, the manager informed me that the core files for the bridge project were being handed over to Lilah temporarily. The official reason? I was “emotionally unstable.” Brooke was furious and threatened to march into the director’s office, but I grabbed her arm. “Leave it.” “How can you just let this slide?” she demanded, her eyes blazing. I closed my laptop. “Because if I make a scene, he’ll just say I’m making a mountain out of a molehill.” Before the workday ended, Danny walked over to my cubicle and set a small velvet box on my desk. “For you.” Inside was a delicate sterling silver bracelet. It was undeniably pretty. But I instantly recognized it. Lilah had posted a picture of the exact same bracelet on her social media feed at noon with the caption: He says every girl deserves to be spoiled. I pushed the box back toward him. “Danny, do you buy your pity gifts in bulk now?” He stiffened, then released a heavy, irritated sigh. “Lilah saw it and thought it looked nice, so I bought an extra one while I was at the shop. Why do you insist on turning everything into something ugly?” I didn’t answer. My phone rang. It was Nana. I picked up, and her cheerful voice filled my ear. “Stella, sweetie! Danny called me earlier. He said you two are coming over for dinner tomorrow night!” “I’m making your favorite lotus root soup. Come early, okay?” I looked up at Danny. He lowered his eyes, taking my silence as an acceptance of his peace offering. A tight knot formed in my throat. “Oh, and Stella,” Nana added warmly, “I stitched a few extra luck symbols onto that red velvet pouch. Everything is going to go smoothly this time, I just know it.” I gripped the phone tightly. “Okay, Nana.” Hearing that single word, the tension in Danny’s jaw finally relaxed. 4 When we drove to Nana’s house the next day, Lilah was sitting in the back seat. “Stella,” Lilah said sweetly, handing a gift basket toward the front, “Danny mentioned your grandmother likes soft pears, so I picked some up on the way.” I shot a glance at Danny. He avoided my gaze and locked the car doors. “Lilah was home alone with nothing to do,” he said casually. “It was on the way, so I invited her for dinner. She has great manners. Nana won’t mind.” Lilah immediately leaned forward. “Maybe I should just get out. I don’t want to make Stella unhappy.” Danny gripped the steering wheel and stepped on the gas. “Sit back.” As the car crossed the Old Mill Bridge, I put my hand into my coat pocket, my fingers brushing against the soft red velvet pouch. Nana had reminded me to bring it, saying she wanted to take a photo of us after dinner for good luck before our next trip to City Hall. When we pulled up to the gate, Nana was already waiting outside. Her smile faltered slightly when she saw Lilah step out of the car. Danny spoke up immediately. “Nana, this is my friend Lilah. She was in the area, so I brought her along to visit you.” Lilah handed over the fruit basket with a sugary smile. “Hello, Nana! Danny talks about you all the time.” Nana took the basket, forcing a polite smile. “Well, come on in and sit down.” At the dinner table, Nana ladled a steaming bowl of lotus root soup and reached out to set it in front of me. Danny reached across the table, intercepted the bowl, and placed it right in front of Lilah. “Her stomach has been bothering her,” Danny said smoothly. “She needs something warm first.” Nana’s hand hovered in midair, frozen. Lilah quickly gestured in panic. “Oh no, please! Stella should have it first.” Danny glanced at me. “Stella doesn’t care about one bowl of soup.” I stared down at my empty bowl. Brooke had asked me recently when Danny had changed. The truth was, he hadn’t changed overnight. It didn’t start with a massive betrayal. It started with a bowl of soup, an umbrella given away, a missed promise, a forgotten wait. Each moment was tiny. So small that if I complained, I sounded petty. Nana quickly filled another bowl for me, offering a slightly strained smile. “There’s plenty more in the pot.” Lilah sat beside Danny, her eyes dropping to the red velvet pouch resting beside my place setting. “Oh, that’s so pretty.” Danny picked it up, examining the intricate gold thread. “Nana’s embroidery is amazing.” Nana chuckled softly. “My eyes aren’t what they used to be. The stitches are crooked, don’t mind them.” Lilah lowered her head, her voice dropping to a tragic whisper. “My mom used to stitch things for me when I was little. But after she passed, no one cared about me anymore.” I looked up, my eyes locking onto Danny’s. “That pouch is for my marriage license.” The smile faded from Danny’s face. “Lilah was just making a comment, Stella. Don’t be so overly sensitive.” Lilah hastily put the pouch back down. “I’m sorry, Stella! I shouldn’t have said I liked it.” I reached across the table to retrieve the pouch, but Danny’s palm slammed down over it, blocking my hand. “Stella, not in front of your grandmother. Don’t make a scene.” “I’m not making a scene.” “Then finish your dinner first.” His palm pressed firmly against the velvet, flattening the small, carefully stitched gold letter of my name underneath his hand. I looked at his fingers, and suddenly, the urge to argue completely evaporated. Nana picked up her tea glass and offered to put the pouch away in the cabinet. At that moment, a sharp meow sounded from near the doorway. The white cat Lilah had brought in her carrier had slipped free. It leaped onto the dining table, its back claws catching on the red velvet pouch and dragging it off the edge. The pouch tumbled onto the dusty threshold, rolling straight into a patch of wet mud near the door. Nana gasped, hurrying over to pick it up. “Oh dear, oh no, it can’t get dirty…” Lilah panicked, dropping to her knees. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t hold onto the carrier!” Danny bent down, picked up the muddy pouch, and casually dusted it against his trousers. “It’s fine. A quick wash will fix it right up.” I held out my hand to take it, but Danny pulled it out of reach, setting it casually on a side table. “It’s just a piece of cloth, Stella. If it’s ruined, I’ll buy you a new one. Don’t be unreasonable.” Nana froze in her tracks. Her vision was failing. It had taken her three long nights under a dim lamp to stitch that pouch. It wasn’t just a piece of cloth. It was her quiet joy, her belief that I was finally going to have a home of my own. I stared at Danny. “Apologize to her.” He frowned, annoyance flaring in his eyes. “I already said we can clean it.” “Apologize to Nana.” “Stella, stop pushing it.” Lilah began to sob uncontrollably. “It’s all my fault! Please don’t fight! I’ll buy a new one to replace it, I promise!” Nana waved her hands frantically. “No, no, it’s alright! The little creature didn’t mean it.” The last bit of warmth in my chest died completely. Danny looked at me, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “See? Even Nana says it’s fine.” I walked over to the side table and picked up the red velvet pouch. The wet mud had already soaked deep into the fabric, staining the gold embroidery. Slowly, I unzipped my bag, pulled out my legal documents, and slipped them into my coat pocket. “You’re right,” I said quietly. “It doesn’t matter anymore.” “And we don’t need to get a marriage license anymore, either.”

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Six months into an online relationship and my boyfriend still refused to meet up in real life. Desperate for answers, I hired a food delivery guy to go do some undercover detective work. When the delivery guy finished his mission, he called me with a desperate plea. “Look, sis, just cut your losses. That guy isn’t tall, he isn’t handsome, and the main thing is, he looks like he’s pushing sixty! He was literally holding a cane!” Hearing that, I completely lost my mind. I logged right into the chat app and pounded out a message: You ancient geezer! We’re over! The next day, I dragged my miserable body into the office, only to overhear my coworkers gossiping. “What on earth set off Mr. Mitchell today?” “I know, right? Why is he running around asking everyone for links to anti-aging face masks?” 1 When I received the phone call from the delivery guy, I felt like my world was collapsing around me. On the other end of the line, he was still painting a vivid picture. “I swear I’m not making this up, girl! When the door opened, I stood there in complete shock. The guy wasn’t tall, wasn’t handsome, and looked like he was about sixty years old. He even had a walking cane in his hand!” “You’re in the prime of your youth. Find someone else. Otherwise, if people see you two together, they’ll think you have an old age fetish!” I mumbled a response in a complete daze, having no idea how I even hung up. By the time my senses returned, tears were streaming down my face like a river. No wonder he always refused to meet me. He was literally so old that moving around was a challenge! And those generous CashApp transfers he kept sending me over the months, were those his retirement pensions?! The thought made me sob even harder. Sniffling, I opened my phone to send all the money back to him. The moment the chat interface popped up, my phone vibrated. My online boyfriend had sent a text: Thank you for ordering afternoon tea for me, baby~ Are your nails done yet? How about I buy you some boba tea? I almost threw up right then and there. The mere realization that I had been calling this old geezer “babe” for half a year made my stomach churn with intense nausea. Oblivious to my sudden meltdown, he kept sending messages: Still getting your nails done? Text me when you’re finished, okay? I’ll reimburse you. A string of large cash transfers followed immediately after. When it came to money, he had never been stingy. Of course! Someone who doesn’t have a job to go to spends money with total freedom! Simmering with rage and resentment, I rejected all the cash transfers and aggressively hammered on my keyboard: No need. I never imagined you were such a wrinkly old fraud. Even saying ‘we’re breaking up’ makes me feel disgusted. Don’t ever contact me again! 2 After sending the message, I blocked and deleted him in one swift sequence, then began packing up everything in my apartment. The clothes and bags the old fraud had bought me? Thrown out! The shopping gift cards he had topped up for me? Sold off! The artisanal cured sausages he had personally smoked and sent over… I hesitated for a second. The old guy actually had incredible culinary skills. Those sausages tasted way better than anything bought from a store. Wait, I was looking for a boyfriend, not hiring a private chef! What good were delicious sausages?! So, I packed up the sausages along with the rest and threw them all into the dumpster downstairs to feed the local stray dogs. I didn’t step foot outside for the entire weekend, curling up on my sofa and wallowing in sorrow. It wasn’t until Monday morning that I finally put on some makeup and dragged myself to work. The moment I stepped into the company, I sensed an unsettling atmosphere. A storm was clearly brewing. “Melanie!” A coworker waved at me frantically. “Hurry up and scan your badge!” I hurried over to clock in and asked in confusion, “What’s going on? Everyone looks so panicked.” My coworker let out a heavy sigh. “Mr. Mitchell is back from the regional branch, and he’s in a horrific mood today! Half a dozen colleagues went into his office to give reports and got chewed out until they were practically weeping!” I froze for a moment. Bryce Mitchell was back? Our big boss had been inspecting the regional branches for almost six months, and he was finally returning to headquarters? I had only joined the company during those six months, so I had never actually interacted with him. Older colleagues said that while he was a bit distant, he wasn’t difficult to get along with. Looking at the situation now, though, it seemed those rumors were completely dead wrong. “He can’t just lose his temper for no reason, right?” I asked, bewildered. “Who set him off?” My coworker looked around to make sure nobody was nearby, then leaned in close to whisper, “Word on the street is that his girlfriend dumped him!” “And it was an out-of-the-blue, total blackout breakup!” 3 It really was the season for breakups… Connecting it to my own tragic situation, I couldn’t help but sigh. Curiosity got the better of me, though. “People don’t just break up out of nowhere. There has to be a reason, right?” My coworker squeezed out a few words through her teeth. “Apparently, she dumped him for being too old…” I sucked in a sharp breath. “Bryce Mitchell is old?!” Isn’t he not even thirty yet?! On top of that, with a face that looked like a male model, he still got dumped for being too old? Just what kind of ethereal goddess was his girlfriend?! Right as the words left my mouth, the elevator doors across from us chimed open. The doors slid back, and I locked eyes directly with the person standing inside. It was Bryce Mitchell. I had no idea whether he had heard my loud remark, but his icy gaze sent a shiver straight down my spine. “Mr. Mitchell,” my coworker greeted him hastily, and the bustling hallway went dead silent in an instant. I instinctively took two steps back and followed suit. “Mr. Mitchell.” Bryce gave a lukewarm response and stepped out of the elevator. Just as it seemed he was going to walk right past me, his footsteps abruptly stopped. The next second, he turned his head and locked his gaze squarely on my face. “Which department are you from?” 4 I stood there, momentarily stunned. My team leader quickly chimed in beside me. “This is Melanie Foster, the new hire in the planning department.” Bryce stared at me for a few more seconds before issuing a quiet command. “Have her come to my office later to present her project report. I want to see the quality of our new recruits.” The team leader nodded frantically in agreement, but my mind was spiraling. Why on earth did a low-level rookie like me have to give a personal report to the CEO? “Don’t be nervous,” my team leader comforted me once Bryce had walked away. “You’ve been following this project from the start anyway. Getting some face time in front of the big boss will do wonders for your career when you want to lead bigger projects later.” Since things had already come to this, I had no choice but to gather my files and head up to the executive suite. Bryce’s office was on the seventeenth floor. It had magnificent natural lighting, but the silence inside was terrifying. I spent a long time mentally preparing myself at the door before finally knocking. “Come in.” A deep voice echoed from inside. I let out a slow breath and pushed the door open. “Mr. Mitchell, I’m here to present the project report.” Bryce sat behind a massive mahogany desk, his face devoid of any expression. “Go ahead.” I had indeed been tracking this project closely, so I knew the structure and details inside out. I spoke continuously for about ten minutes before wrapping up. “That covers the main scope, Mr. Mitchell.” Bryce didn’t speak immediately. He simply flipped through the document I had brought. After a long moment, he raised his head, his sharp features unreadable. “Are you nervous?” I gave an honest nod. “A little.” Bryce showed no reaction to that. He lowered his eyes again, finished reading the final set of data, and tossed the folder onto the desk with a light thud. “Go down to HR and process your handover.” I froze. “Mr. Mitchell?” Bryce looked at me, his voice flat and calm. “You’re not suitable for the planning department.” My heart instantly dropped into my stomach. Was he firing me?! 5 Panic surged through me, and I hurriedly tried to salvage the situation. “Mr. Mitchell, I know my presentation had flaws, but I’m more than willing to learn from the seniors in the department! Please give me one more chance!” Bryce paid no attention to my plea. He turned to his computer and started typing, looking very much like he was drafting an email to HR. Watching his hands move, I knew there was no turning this around, and a wave of bitterness washed over me. Isn’t the saying go that when you’re unlucky in love, you’re lucky in your career?! How come I ended up losing both my love life and my job?! The more I thought about it, the more miserable I felt. Suppressing my rising emotions, I forced myself to ask, “Mr. Mitchell, can you at least tell me where I failed? Just so I can learn from my mistakes and not repeat them at my next company.” At that, Bryce finally looked up. His gaze lingered on my reddened eyes for a moment, and an expression of subtle helplessness crossed his face. “Why would you go to another company? To work as a corporate spy?” I pouted slightly. “Aren’t you firing me?” Bryce seemed to let out a quiet, amused breath. “When did I ever say I was firing you?” He pointed to the folder on his desk, his tone indifferent. “You managed to turn such a tiny piece of work into a comprehensive ten-minute breakdown. Keeping you in the planning department is a waste of talent. Come work in the executive suite.” I blinked, not quite understanding. Bryce was forced to turn his computer monitor around so I could see it. Only then did I realize that he wasn’t typing a termination notice at all, but an internal transfer form. He was reassigning me to his personal office! “Complete your handover this morning, and report to my office this afternoon,” Bryce said, giving me a quick glance. “Any issues with that?” My heart stopped aching, my eyes stopped watering, and I nodded like a toy bird on a spring. “No issues at all!” Bryce gave a quiet hum and pushed the folder back across the desk. “Head back and pack your things.” I responded happily and stepped forward to take the file. Yet, when my fingers touched the cover, I couldn’t pull it away. I paused, looking up, only to see Bryce pressing his hand firmly on the folder, his knuckles slightly white. “Your nails…” He stared at my fingers, his dark eyebrows pulling into a faint frown. “They look somewhat familiar.” 6 I instinctively lowered my head to look at my hands. Since it was my lucky zodiac year, I had specifically gotten a bright cherry-red gel manicure, a style I had actually chosen together with that old fraud from my online relationship. Now, looking at this shade of red gave me a sudden surge of irritation. “Yeah, this style is really popular this year. A lot of girls got it done,” I gave a forced smile, secretly deciding to get them removed the moment I got home tonight. Bryce looked at my nails, then looked at my face, and ultimately said nothing more. He simply waved his hand to dismiss me. The rest of the morning was a chaotic blur. By the time the transfer paperwork was finished, it was already lunchtime. I finally caught my breath and headed down to the cafeteria. My appetite had been terrible over the past two days, so I only ordered a simple bowl of vegetable noodles. After sitting down, I habitually pulled out my phone, took a picture, and sent it to my pinned contact: Baby, lunch check-in~ After sending it, I set my phone down and started eating. Two bites in, a strange, creeping realization hit me. Didn’t I already delete that old fraud’s chat?! Then who in the world had I just sent that update to?! My heart leaped into my throat. I frantically grabbed my phone and unlocked it. When the screen lit up, my eyes went completely dark. My current pinned contact was… Bryce Mitchell! Just half an hour ago, I had added the big boss’s contact through his assistant and pinned him at the top as instructed. Who could have guessed I’d make such a fatal blunder right off the bat! “Bad habits are going to be the death of me…” I groaned internally, my fingers flying as I tried to unsend the message. But the two-minute window had already passed, leaving it permanently delivered. Even more terrifying, my phone vibrated in the very next second. Bryce had actually replied: Who are you calling ‘baby’, Melanie? 7 Dying of embarrassment, I typed out a panicked explanation: I am so sorry, Mr. Mitchell! I sent that to the wrong person… Bryce didn’t seem to mind. He simply asked: That’s all you’re eating? I answered truthfully: My appetite hasn’t been great these past couple of days. Bryce’s end went quiet, and he didn’t reply again. Assuming he was just engaging in polite small talk, I put my phone away and focused on my food. Because of the transfer paperwork, I had come down to the cafeteria late. Paired with my habit of chewing slowly, the cafeteria had mostly emptied out while my bowl of noodles was still half-full. There was still half an hour left of the lunch break. Just as I was debating whether to keep eating or head upstairs for a nap, a shadow suddenly fell across my table. Looking up, I was surprised to see Bryce’s executive assistant. “Still eating?” She smiled warmly and handed over a high-end food container. “An addition to your lunch.” I blinked, taking it carefully. Opening the lid, an incredible aroma wafted out, revealing several beautifully prepared gourmet dishes. “Wow, thank you!” My appetite instantly returned. As I dug in, I caught a glimpse of the restaurant logo on the container and gasped softly. “Wait, this place is ridiculously expensive!” The assistant waved a dismissive hand. “Mr. Mitchell’s treat. Enjoy as much as you like.” I let out a soft whistle. “I have to say, working in the executive office has its perks. Free high-end meals!” The assistant laughed softly. “Not usually. Mr. Mitchell rarely orders takeout; he usually eats at the cafeteria with everyone else. I guess he just wanted a change of flavor today.” I blinked, thinking to myself how lucky I was to score a free luxury meal on my very first day. The afternoon passed smoothly with light tasks. I spent most of the time shadowing the senior assistant, and left work right on time. After returning home and finishing dinner, I flopped onto the couch, ready to launch a mobile game. The second I logged into my account, my screen flashed wildly with notifications, 99+ popping up so fast the phone vibrated right out of my grip. It took a full minute for the phone to settle down. Only then did I spot the culprit, who was, unsurprisingly, that old fraud. I had blocked his chat app, but I had completely forgotten to remove him from my game friend list! Looking at the glowing couple badge hovering above our avatars, a wave of disgust washed over me. I moved to sever the in-game bond immediately, but a private message popped up a split second faster: Baby, you finally logged on! Baby, why did you break up with me? QAQ I cringed at the text. How old was he, still using cute kaomoji emoticons? Absolutely nauseating! Refusing to even reply, I opened his profile to remove him. But right before my thumb tapped ‘Delete’, another message flashed on the screen: I’m not even thirty years old yet! I know I’m a bit older than you, but I’m hardly an ancient geezer, right? Baby, is there some kind of misunderstanding between us!! 8 Not even thirty? For real? I froze, completely bewildered. There was a massive difference between thirty and sixty! Even if he aged poorly, he couldn’t possibly look thirty years older than his real age! Fearing I wouldn’t believe him, he sent another message right away: Baby, if you don’t believe me, I can send you a photo! Forget it. Nine out of ten online photos were heavily edited, and the tenth was usually someone else entirely. Zero credibility. Seeing that I still wasn’t responding, he unleashed his ultimate card: Baby, let’s meet up in real life. Once you see me with your own eyes, you’ll know I’m not lying to you. I hesitated. If he actually had the nerve to suggest an IRL meeting, there was a very high probability that he wasn’t a sixty-year-old man after all. Besides, we had been talking for half a year, and our personalities and interests matched terribly well. If we really went our separate ways over a stupid misunderstanding, I would feel a genuine sense of regret. After a moment of deliberation, I typed back: Fine. We can meet. But I pick the time and place. He became instantly ecstatic: Baby, you finally replied to me! I’ll listen to you! Wherever you say, we’ll go there! After thinking it over, I chose a bustling downtown shopping mall purely for safety reasons. Even if the guy turned out to be some kind of creep, he wouldn’t dare try anything under the watchful eyes of a huge crowd. Once the meeting was set, he started pleading again: Baby, can you add me back on the chat app? I really can’t get used to not saying good morning and good night to you. I gave him a icy response, telling him we would discuss it after meeting in person, and then immediately logged off. The next day was Tuesday. Morning traffic was an absolute nightmare. I sprinted into the building and managed to clock in right on the dot, only to find everyone in the executive office already seated. “I’m so sorry I’m late,” I apologized nervously. The senior assistant shook her head. “It’s fine, we just got here too.” “Oh, right,” she pointed to my desk. “Mr. Mitchell brought some home-style delicacies prepared by his house cook for us to share. Yours is right there.” Looking at the box on my desk, I thought to myself that Bryce was actually a pretty decent boss. “Is he not in a bad mood today?” The assistant smiled. “Yeah, he seems to be in a pretty good mood, actually.” Men really were unpredictable creatures. I opened the box on my desk, and one item inside instantly caught my attention. It was a pack of cured, smoked sausages. 9 The packaging looked strikingly similar to the ones the old fraud used to mail to me. I pulled out a piece and took a bite. Holy crap, even the flavor was identical! Could it be the exact same recipe? Puzzled, I asked the assistant, “Where is Mr. Mitchell’s house cook from?” She shook her head. “I’m not sure. Somewhere local, I think.” I hummed thoughtfully, wondering if that old fraud had just bought some commercial gift packs off the shelf to fool me back then. I originally wanted to find an opportunity to ask Bryce about his cook, but the executive suite proved to be insanely busy. Bryce himself was constantly traveling between branches, so it wasn’t until Friday’s weekly summary meeting that I saw him again. Maybe it was just my imagination, but throughout the entire meeting, Bryce seemed completely distracted, repeatedly checking his wristwatch. Checking the time so anxiously, did he have a date tonight? I didn’t have time to gossip, though. The moment the clock struck the end of the workday, I rushed straight to the shopping mall. Friday night traffic was brutal. By the time I reached the mall entrance, I was already twenty minutes late. Fearing he might think I was flaking on purpose, I logged into the game to send a quick message: Traffic was terrible, I just arrived at the mall entrance. Almost at the exact same moment, a reply popped up on my screen: I’m so sorry, baby! I’m late too, I just pulled up to the entrance T^T I blinked. You’re at the entrance too? North entrance or South entrance? Just as the text sent, a sharp notification chime sounded from a short distance right in front of me. It was the distinct sound of an incoming game message. I instinctively looked up, only to lock eyes with a terrifyingly familiar face. It was Bryce Mitchell. Why was he here? I stood frozen for a second before letting out a stiff, dry greeting. “Mr. Mitchell, what a coincidence.” Bryce stared down at me, his dark eyes deep and unreadable. “It really is a coincidence.” He looked at me, then down at the phone tightly clutched in my hand, his expression turning strangely complex. “Melanie, what are you… doing here?” 10 Telling my boss I was here to meet an online boyfriend felt wildly embarrassing, so I couldn’t bring myself to say it. Seeing my silence, Bryce’s gaze grew even darker. He took a few steps closer, opening his mouth to speak, when someone called my name from behind him. “Melanie!” I turned my head and saw an old college classmate I hadn’t seen in ages. A flash of inspiration hit me, and I turned back to Bryce. “I’m meeting a friend for dinner!” Bryce visibly stiffened, clearly caught off guard by that answer. He stared at me, repeating slowly, “You’re… meeting a friend?” I waved at my classmate not far away and nodded rapidly. “Yes, yes, my friend is already here! I’ll be going now, Mr. Mitchell!” Without waiting for his response, I bolted toward my classmate, grabbed her arm, and practically dragged her away while whispering for her to play along. Fortunately, Bryce didn’t chase after us. When I stole a backward glance after putting a significant distance between us, I saw him standing completely alone under the streetlamp, looking inexplicably… desolate. “What’s the story there?” my classmate whispered, nudging me. “Did you have a fight with your boyfriend? Damn, Melanie, your boyfriend is gorgeous!” I shook my head frantically. “That’s my boss!” She stared at me in disbelief. “Then what was that? The way he looked at you was anything but innocent!” I didn’t know what to say to that. With a stoic face like Bryce’s, what could anyone possibly read from it? Entering the mall, I parted ways with my classmate and hurried toward the reserved restaurant. It was peak dinner hour, but thankfully I had booked a private dining room in advance. Once inside, I let out a massive sigh of relief and sent a message to my online date: I’m in the private room. Sending you the room number now. He replied instantly: I’m at the restaurant too, baby! Coming in right now. My heart took a sudden, violent leap, and the hand holding my phone began to tremble uncontrollably. Time seemed to compress into a single fraction of a second. Almost the very moment I set my phone down, the door to the private room was knocked and pushed open, a figure stepping right into view… 11 When I saw who stepped through the door, I froze. “Ma’am, I am so sorry to bother you. We just received notice that due to a circuit maintenance issue, the mall will experience a temporary blackout for about ten to thirty minutes. It might affect your dining experience.” Standing at the door wasn’t an online boyfriend, but a restaurant waiter, looking thoroughly apologetic. “We are deeply sorry for the inconvenience. Would a fifty-dollar voucher be acceptable as compensation?” I blinked. “So I can’t eat here right now?” The waiter nodded apologetically. “We sincerely apologize for ruining your plans. We will also provide a free parking voucher.” “Uh… alright then.” I grabbed my jacket and stood up to follow the waiter out of the room, then suddenly remembered something. “Wait, the person I was meeting…” Before I could finish my sentence, the lights flickered once and went completely black. The mall had lost power. The customers knew what was happening, so there wasn’t widespread panic, but with so many people and children around, the restaurant quickly degenerated into a noisy chaos of shuffling feet and startled gasps. Standing on the steps between the private rooms and the main dining hall, I completely lost my footing in the dark. “Ma’am? Ma’am, please follow me. Don’t stand in the middle of the stairs, it’s not safe!” The waiter’s voice was right in front of me, but I couldn’t see a single thing. I had mild night blindness, which essentially made me as blind as a bat in pitch darkness. “Excuse me, could you turn on your phone flashlight for a second?” I reached out blindly, trying to find a railing to hold onto, but the moment my hand extended, a panicked customer rushing down the stairs slammed hard into my shoulder. “Watch out!” The waiter’s warning came a fraction of a second too late. I was already pitching forward, falling toward the steps below. Just as I braced for impact, a pair of strong arms reached out through the dark and caught me firmly. In the very next second, a bright beam of flashlight illuminated the space between us. 12 The flight of stairs wasn’t high, but my forward stumble carried decent momentum. The person who caught me took a forced step back from the impact, yet his arms remained locked securely around my waist, holding me safely against his chest. Scared out of my mind, it took me several seconds to catch my breath and look up. “Thank…” My voice choked in my throat as I met the face illuminated by the light. “Mr. Mitchell??” Looking at Bryce’s familiar features, my mind went blank. “Why are you here?” Bryce looked down at me, a tight frown pulling at his brow. “Are you hurt anywhere?” I shook my head slowly. “You came just in time.” Still bewildered, I pressed on, “Were you coming here to eat too?” While this restaurant was popular, its status was hardly high-end enough for an executive like Bryce to frequent. A sudden thought struck me, and I pointed upward toward the higher floors. “Mr. Mitchell, did you get the wrong floor? The upscale steakhouse is on the fifth floor.” Bryce looked at me with a faint trace of helplessness. “Am I not allowed to eat here?” I scratched my cheek. “It’s not that, but that steakhouse up there clearly suits you much better.” “What’s the point of fitting the restaurant?” Bryce stared down into my eyes, suddenly reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair away from my face. His voice softened into something gentle and intimate. “Fitting the person is what matters.” The gesture was so outrageously affectionate that I froze in place. “Um… excuse me, you two…” Behind us, the waiter spoke up nervously in the dark. “Who should I give the meal vouchers and parking pass to?” Bryce raised his head, extending a hand smoothly. “I’ll take them.” The waiter hesitated. “But the private room was booked under the lady’s name…” Bryce gave a quiet, firm nod. “We’re together.” “The person she came to meet is me.”

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Three years into my studies abroad, my mom issued an emergency decree: get back home immediately. Word had reached her that my childhood friend, Jasper, was being thoroughly played by a master-level gold digger. The girl was calculating every move, luring him in, taking his money and his heart, and turning him into a walking ATM. Jasper’s mom was completely out of options. She begged me, his childhood “white moonlight,” to fly back and strip away the scammer’s sweet, innocent facade. At the time, I was strolling along the riverbank in Florence, taking a photo for a passing couple. I replied nonchalantly, “Look, everyone has to suffer a little for love. Besides, if it’s a mutual trap, who cares? How bad could it really be?” My mom went dead silent over the phone for two seconds. “There’s a green field on top of his head big enough to race a herd of wild horses.” 1 My childhood friend, Jasper, had been targeted by a top-tier green tea manipulator. She didn’t just demand an astronomical bride price. On the very eve of the engagement party, she insisted on adding a brand-new luxury sports car to the deal. Jasper was willing to swallow the disrespect, but his mother wasn’t. After conspiring with my mom, they decided to throw a Hail Mary and summon me back to save Jasper from his own romantic stupidity. Fearing this was just a trick my mom pulled to lure me home, I reached out to my best friend, Phoebe. Phoebe promptly sent me a album’s worth of photos showing the girl cozying up with other men. Damn. There really was a whole cavalry riding on Jasper’s head. I didn’t waste another second. I booked an overnight flight and landed just in time to crash the engagement banquet. The party was held on the thirty-second floor of Starlight Grand Hotel. It was obvious Jasper had poured his heart into setting it up, though the same couldn’t be said for his bride-to-be. Before my plane took off, I learned from a mutual friend that everything had been set and invitations sent. Then Whitney, the bride, suddenly demanded a new car at the last minute. The elevator doors chimed open, and the sharp click of my high heels broke the tense standoff in the room. Under the gaze of dozens of guests, I lunged forward and threw my arms around Jasper’s neck. “I missed you so much, babe!” I squeezed and kneaded his handsome, bewildered face. “Why did you lose so much weight?” Beside him, Whitney, wearing a champagne-colored mini dress, visibly froze. She was petite, pale, with soft features and almond eyes. Objectively speaking, a classic beauty. The exact “innocent first love” archetype that straight guys fell for instantly. Brushing a strand of hair behind my ear with my flashy manicure, I leaned toward Jasper and whispered softly, “This is it?” “Jasper, who is she?” Whitney asked, her voice soft and sweet like honey. I hopped down and turned to face her, my tailored crimson dress bold and striking. “Oh, you must be my bro’s girl!” I shook her hand enthusiastically. “Jasper talks about you all the time! You look so thrifty and traditional, not materialistic at all.” Around us, mutual friends stopped eating, drinking, and scrolling on their phones. Everyone was practically begging for popcorn. Whitney eyed me up and down, keeping a perfectly harmless smile on her face. “Is that so? How come Jasper has never mentioned you to me before?” I raised an eyebrow. Okay, she had some moves. I looked over at Jasper, a guy whose IQ and EQ were on completely different planets. He didn’t pick up on the subtle jabs at all and was actually preparing to make a friendly introduction. “Harper, this is Whitney, my fiancée. Whitney, this is Harper. We grew up together.” I promptly shoved him out of the main battlefield. “Oh, he probably just didn’t want you to overthink things,” I said smoothly. “We practically shared the same cradle growing up. His dad was strict, so whenever he got in trouble, he’d hide at my place. We ate together, hung out together, basically shared everything. But honestly, what’s there to worry about? Us girls should stick together.” I playfully flicked the back of Jasper’s head. “Don’t worry, Whitney. Now that you two are together, I’m definitely on your side.” The overwhelming flood of information left Whitney momentarily speechless. She could only offer a strained smile. “Well… thank you then.” “I heard you have your eye on a new Honda?” I continued, analyzing the situation with utmost seriousness. “Jasper is being way too stingy. When I went abroad, he gifted me an Acura. How is he being so clueless now? You definitely shouldn’t back down on this.” The entire banquet hall fell dead silent for a few seconds. Nobody expected me to shift the conversation so fast. But what came next was even faster. “Since Whitney isn’t satisfied, let me just cancel this engagement party. Marriage is a huge deal. You should only hold the party when all the terms are settled.” Before Whitney could recover from her utter shock, I was already waving down the event host. “Wait! Who are you to cancel it just like that?” someone shouted from the guest tables. “Why are outsiders interfering in their relationship?” She even brought her own hype squad? I smirked slightly. “Outsiders shouldn’t interfere. So, are you his insider?” Felix, my other childhood friend who had leaked the info to me, spat out a mouthful of red wine. Low giggles rippled through the crowd. Jasper frowned slightly, stepping between Whitney and me. “Alright, Harper. You traveled a long way back. Let’s keep the peace.” “I am keeping the peace! We’re all just chatting and laughing,” I said, poking his chest lightly with my fingernail. “Since the floor is already booked, why don’t you convert this into a welcome-back party for me instead?” Whitney finally lost her composure. “Harper, was it? You just got back, so you might not know this. Booking a private floor at Starlight Grand is extremely difficult, and reservations can’t be modified on a whim.” I crossed my arms and remained silent. Felix looked like he was about to burst from holding in his laughter. “Whitney, you might not know this since it’s your first time here, but the CEO of Starlight Grand is actually her dad.” 2 After the party dispersed, Jasper’s mother insisted I come over to their house. I excused myself, claiming I needed to adjust to the jet lag, and promised to visit another day. Jasper offered to drive Felix and me home. As for Whitney? She was “urgently” called away by her company. The male lead behind the wheel remained completely silent. In the back seat, drowsiness finally caught up with me, and I drifted into a light nap. Only Felix, sitting beside me, was enthusiastically sending voice notes to friends who hadn’t made it to the event. “You guys hated Whitney and flaked on the party. You missed out big time.” “Queen Harper returned today and completely wiped the floor with her.” I rolled my eyes. “Why don’t you add ‘All hail the Dragon Lord’ while you’re at it?” Felix’s fox-like eyes curved into a mischievous smile. “Trying to play the green tea game in front of you is like trying to teach Shakespeare how to write English.” That much was true. Unlike Jasper, I had never been particularly popular with the older generation growing up. In math class, I used to draw portraits of the handsomest boy in the room, fold them into paper airplanes, and toss them across the aisle, watching his face turn bright red. I was once dragged into the office by an angry middle-aged female teacher and scolded severely. She strongly advised my homeroom teacher to move me to the “seat of shame” right beside the podium. “Sure thing,” I had said, playing with a pencil without even looking up. “Just don’t ask me to design the school bulletin boards for the next couple of semesters.” In middle school, I hated wearing the stuffy school uniform jacket during hot summers, so I tied it around my waist. The patrolling dean caught me and berated me for lacking modesty and decency. I looked at the righteous, overly paternal man for a second, then smiled and tapped my left cheek. “That’s funny. Your son didn’t seem to mind it at all.” The boy I drew back then was Felix, who later moved into our neighborhood compound. The dean situation was eventually solved by Jasper, who spent hours sweating over a three-thousand-word self-reflection essay on my behalf. The three of us formed an inseparable trio ever since. Jasper lived up to his clean-cut reputation. While other boys were covered in sweat and rolling in the dirt, he kept a neat buzzcut and crisp, pristine shirts. I used to think that if the neighborhood voted for the “Ideal Son-in-Law,” he would easily top the list. Felix was equally handsome. The very first time I felt self-conscious about my appearance was because of him. But he had a sweet tongue; even when he broke the rules, he maintained a polite, obedient front. Then there was me. The most common evaluation I received was: “So young, yet so flashy and manipulative. Doesn’t look like a proper girl.” “Her parents are busy with business and neglect her upbringing. Look at her, showing off her shoulders and legs all day. How improper! Only my foolish boy would fall for that.” “Tell me about it! But if she ever tried to be my daughter-in-law, I’d refuse.” At the time, Jasper and I were walking on the shaded side of the alley, and those sharp whispers floated down clearly from above. He immediately used both hands to cover my ears. Even though it was early spring, sweat had broken out across his forehead. Jasper looked down at me and said softly, “Don’t listen to them. You are yourself.” The sunlight shifted, catching the tips of his messy hair and eyelashes. He looked impossibly handsome. In the quiet space of our shared breath, his face flushed red as he made his very first promise to me. “Harper, it’s not up to them to want you or not. I want you.” 3 Before I could reunite with all my old friends, I was summoned by my ridiculously busy father. He pointed at trending clips and social media posts, asking me what was going on. I gave the screen a quick scan. The original post title was: So, in the end, I still lost to his childhood white moonlight. It was a long, emotional essay detailing how meticulously she had cared for Jasper and how deeply she loved him, only for me to return from abroad and turn their engagement party into my personal welcome-back bash. The attached photos included sneaky snaps from the venue and a pitiful selfie of her with red, crying eyes. The comment section was a chaotic mess: Holy crap, novel trope in real life? Did she crash a wedding? So shameless! Stealing someone’s man? Total pick-me energy. Lacking boundaries is terrible, but her face is stunning. Honestly, who wouldn’t be confused? Are your morals following her looks? No matter how pretty she is, you can’t do that! After reading through, I handed the phone back to him. “So, did you call me here because this happened at Starlight Grand and hurts the corporate image, or because you actually care about your daughter?” “Of course—” “Of course it’s about Starlight’s reputation,” I took a deep breath, stepping back while looking at him. “Otherwise, you would have known that my mom was the one who called me back. It’s been five days since I landed in San Francisco from Florence.” With that, I turned and walked out. It didn’t matter. It was a fact I had known for a long time. It was simply being reconfirmed once again. I adjusted my emotions while driving, and by the time I stepped into the private lounge, I was back to my usual self. “Hey, welcoming our heiress back! Did you bring back a handsome Italian souvenir?” “Nope.” “That doesn’t sound like you,” my best friend Phoebe pinched my cheek. “Who are you keeping yourself pure for, huh?” My heart skipped a beat. My hand holding the wine glass paused for a fraction of a second. Felix took a deep breath and dramatically clutched his chest. “Harper, I didn’t expect… I’m so moved. I accept your proposal.” “?” I passed my wine glass over to him. “You haven’t even had a drink yet. What kind of drunk talk are you spewing?” The lounge erupted into exaggerated laughter and teasing. Jasper sat quietly in a dim corner, wearing a light blue shirt. Shadows fell across his brow, hiding his expression. “You guys backed the wrong pair! Who do you think Harper came back for?” “Oh right! Why is Jasper being so quiet?” Someone finally noticed the supposed main character, turning everyone’s attention toward him. “Harper didn’t come back once during her two years of grad school, yet she rushed back specifically for you!” “Isn’t she a hundred times better than the Ginger Girl?” “Don’t compare Ginger to Harper. Is she even worthy?” Phoebe leaned over to explain the nickname to me. “Ginger refers to Whitney.” “Why?” She grinned wickedly. “Because ginger never blooms, no matter how much water and fertilizer you give it.” Clatter. Jasper set his fork down on his plate with noticeable force. The room went instantly silent. He had a notoriously gentle temper and almost never lost his cool. It was rare to see him with such a cold expression. I was somewhat surprised. “You can keep your personal opinions about Whitney,” he said calmly. “But we haven’t broken up. In front of her fiancé, you shouldn’t talk about her like this.” “Fiancé? You gave yourself that title, didn’t you?” Phoebe snapped back sharply. “Jasper, what kind of fiancée demands a luxury car the day before the engagement? If Whitney really loved you, we wouldn’t say a single word!” “I work long hours. She brings me meals, cleans my place, and takes care of everything. Is that not love?” “Ha! If some handsome sucker threw ten grand at me every single month, forget being a maid, I’d call him daddy!” Felix and I spoke in unison without any warning. “Woah, woah, let’s not go that far.” Then we looked at each other across the round table. “Why are you copying…” Double synchronization. The tension in the lounge suddenly turned hilariously awkward. I cut him off with a look and pulled down Phoebe, who was about to stand up in frustration. “I’m going out to the hallway for a smoke,” Felix ran a hand through his hair, chuckling lazily. “Keep it down in here. People outside might think we’re running a fight club.” “Shut up, you instigator,” I poked him playfully, sending the golden boy off before turning back to Jasper. “Go on.” “Hmm?” “Other people’s opinions aside, you know your relationship with Whitney best. I want to hear the full story straight from your mouth.” “Why did your mom frantically reach out to mine, begging me to come back and reason with you?” Jasper softened his tone. “It’s just about the bride price. Harper, you know that while I’m not swimming in cash, I can afford it. My mom thinks Whitney is materialistic, but she just doesn’t understand her. Whitney works incredibly hard. She came here alone with no background or family support. Since I love her and have the means, why shouldn’t I make the girl I love comfortable?” Honestly, Jasper had always been a man of few words. This was the first time I had ever heard him speak so candidly, openly, and passionately. He was clearly head over heels. It seemed the purpose of my trip back home was… I smiled, and before I could offer my blessing, the lounge door was suddenly kicked open. The excitement in Felix’s eyes was practically overflowing from his expression. He pointed a thumb over his shoulder at Jasper. “I stepped out for two minutes, only to catch your true love flirting with another man by the window.” 4 The room exploded into shocked silence. All our friends exchanged bewildered glances. Jasper’s composure was almost unbelievable. “It’s probably her boss.” “Well, her boss is certainly attentive,” Felix shook his head with a sigh. “My boss never sends me flowers.” What?! One second Phoebe was mocking Jasper for being a hopeless romantic, and the next second she was fiercely defending her friend, her face red with rage. “Screw this! Perfect timing to settle the score for her online smear campaign too! Watch me tear that fake bitch apart!” The group scrambled to hold her back. “Don’t deploy the nuclear option!” “This restaurant isn’t ours! We can’t wreck the place!” “Calm down! Calm down!” “Phoebe, sit down,” I said calmly. “Certain things can only be resolved by the main parties involved.” Jasper looked pale. Before leaving, he offered us a polite nod. “I’m sorry. I’ll resolve this and come back as soon as possible.” I dropped a few peeled shrimp onto Phoebe’s plate. She finally sat back down, grumbling as she ate, “He’s tall, handsome, smart, an elite professional! How did he end up so brain-dead in love?” Everyone in the lounge ate in silence, wondering what kind of storm Jasper was about to walk into. After all, she was his first love. To prevent him from doing something drastic out of heartbreak, Felix was assigned the heavy duty of keeping watch from a distance. I slowly sipped my soup, feeling an inexplicable restlessness creeping into my mind. I couldn’t pinpoint the source, like a tangled ball of yarn with no loose end. Was it because of Jasper? Words spoken in our youth meant nothing. Why take them seriously after all this time? Was it because of Felix? Having a crush on him was ancient history from elementary school. Even Jasper had moved on, so how could a guy who naturally attracted women like Felix stay focused on one person? “Let’s wrap it up,” Felix returned, pulling out the chair next to me, Jasper’s former spot, and sitting down casually. “Where is he? Why are you back alone?” I asked. “Do you care that much?” A faint flush of alcohol tinted the corners of his eyes. His cool fingers lightly tapped the tip of my nose. He draped an arm over the back of my chair, effectively leaning over me. “Why don’t you go after him then?” I frowned. “Felix, you know I hate the smell of smoke.” He stared at me with hazy, dark eyes for a moment, then obediently sat back upright. He almost looked a little pouted. I sent him to keep watch, so why did he come back smelling like a brewery? Dinner was effectively over. Seeing his state, I doubted we’d get any useful information out of him. Everyone packed up their things and paired off to head home. Felix was genuinely tipsy. Phoebe and I had to haul him from both sides just to drag his heavy frame into my car. Just as I was congratulating myself on staying sober, Phoebe turned around and stepped straight into her family’s Mercedes. Great. So I was the sole driver left to handle the mess. Starting the engine, I glanced at Felix slumped in the passenger seat. Annoyed yet helpless, I leaned over to fasten his seatbelt, only for him to catch my hand. We were old friends, so a little touch was nothing. But… The warm, dim light inside the car contrasted with the chilly night air outside, making the heat where our palms met feel dangerously intimate. I feigned annoyance. “What are you doing?” Felix mumbled something incoherently under his breath. Left with no choice, I leaned my upper body completely over him to listen closer. Hearing what he said, rage exploded in my chest, and I landed a quick punch right against his ribs. “Sleep with you?! Listen to yourself! Are those human words?! Felix, you dare harbor those kinds of thoughts about me?! Believe it or not, I’ll tell your dad tomorrow! You—” My punch sent him into a coughing fit, unable to utter a full sentence. “Get out of my car right now! What are you leaning closer for? Do you want me to—” His hand reached past me, grabbing… the bottle of mineral water in the center console. The second half of my sentence froze in my throat. I watched in total, dumbfounded silence as he unscrewed the cap and chugged the water down, his throat moving rhythmically, his long fingers gripping the bottle tightly. A deep flush spread all the way to his ears. Oh… He meant water. After finishing the water, he tossed the empty bottle cleanly into the roadside trash can outside the window. He turned back to look at me, his expression extremely complex and hard to read. “Harper, I really wonder what on earth you learned at the Florence Academy of Art.” I felt like dying of embarrassment. The sheer humiliation was off the charts. Maybe I should just board a plane back to Italy right now. Clearly, I was no longer suited for survival in this city. A playful glint surfaced in Felix’s eyes as he enunciated each word clearly: “Give… me… water. Water. Not that.” I glared at him fiercely. “Shut up! You’re getting a free ride and you still have so much to say? That water was two bucks. Venmo or CashApp? Pay up right now!”

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