Author: Momo Chan

The first year I signed Marcus Thorne, he insisted on handing over all his earnings from acting for me to manage. He said I was his most trusted agent, and he felt safe with me looking after his money. But at the after-party celebrating his big award win, Marcus publicly demanded that I hand over the funds I’d managed for him over the past five years for a full audit. “After taxes, that’s at least ten to twenty million a year. After five years, there should be tens of millions left, right?” he said. “I don’t want to always be limited by the company’s cut. I’ll use my own savings to start my independent studio.” “Part of it will be seed money, and the rest will be my advance on future profits.” I froze, completely stunned. “But the money in the account isn’t even close to that amount!” Marcus’s face instantly twisted. “Ashley Clark! You blew through tens of millions?!” His new girlfriend, Sienna Reed, immediately shrieked beside him, “Where did all that money go? Did you secretly spend it all?” Marcus started yelling, demanding to see the books. I immediately motioned for my assistant, Chloe, to prepare the projection files. Sienna, however, suddenly panicked, instinctively tugging at Marcus’s sleeve.

The after-party was buzzing, filled with industry bigwigs, media, and friends. Everything was going smoothly until a director laughed and said, “That’s why Ashley’s a super agent, right? She’s managed Marcus’s career perfectly for five years. Now he’s made it big, and he doesn’t have to worry about a thing.” I was a bit confused. What exactly had I “managed perfectly” for Marcus? Before I could figure it out, Sienna suddenly leaned into Marcus, her voice sickeningly sweet. “Marcus is just humble. He always says ‘enough is enough.’ But actually, he’s already planned out his personal studio, even set aside the startup funds!” My jaw almost dropped. Many people in the room shot admiring glances our way. Marcus looked thrilled. He immediately turned to me publicly and said, “Ashley, I handed over all my income for these five years for you to manage. After expenses, there should be tens of millions left, right?” “I don’t want to always be limited by the company’s cut. I’ll use my own savings to start my independent studio.” “Part of it will be seed money, and the rest will be my advance on future profits.” I didn’t know how to respond, but he kept talking. “Whatever the company owes me by contract, just settle it normally. Ashley, don’t think I’m being too calculating. This is the fairest plan I could come up with.” My partner, David, and other friends present genuinely believed Marcus had tens of millions stashed with me. Coupled with his “clear vision,” their eyes held even more approval. David even clapped me on the shoulder. “Marcus being so strategic is a good thing!” Murmurs of agreement filled the air. “Fantastic, a powerful partnership! Marcus has a limitless future, and Ashley’s contribution is undeniable.” I couldn’t stand the fake atmosphere anymore. I set my drink down. “Are you absolutely sure you have tens of millions saved with me?” The once lively room immediately quieted. Facing everyone’s gaze, Marcus paused, then straightened his back. “Of course! My fee for one movie is millions. Over five years, that’s tens of millions. After daily expenses, asking for most of it isn’t unreasonable, is it?” I actually laughed, but it was hollow. “Are you saying… your personal expenses for five years only amounted to a fraction of that? Marcus, think carefully before you speak.” A cold dread settled in my stomach as I finally pieced together the situation. If I foolishly agreed to this money in front of so many people today, I’d never be able to deny it later. Marcus, too lazy to even think, blurted out, “Of course! I live frugally. I spend most of my time on set. How much could I possibly spend?” My face hardened. “What if I told you the money in the account isn’t even close to that amount?” “How is that possible?! Ashley, you’re not funny right now.” Marcus tried hard to maintain his composure in front of the crowd, even as the first half of his sentence almost cracked. He managed to rein in his voice for the second half. Sienna, his girlfriend, stopped smiling and looked stunned. David, sensing something was off, frowned and asked me, “Ashley, what’s going on?” I pressed my lips together, then raised my voice to ensure everyone in the room could hear me. “Marcus’s movie fees were indeed paid into the company account on time, but to maintain his image and social standing, his annual wardrobe expenses, PR fees, and team costs alone run into millions…” Even before I finished, David immediately understood. “But he said his expenses were minimal. After those fixed costs, is there enough left for him to start his own studio?” Marcus’s face instantly fell. He was losing his cool, but still tried to speak in a calm tone. “Ashley, I know some expenses might be significant, but it can’t be that insufficient. Just tell me the truth, how much money do I actually have left with you?” I shrugged. “I told you. It’s nowhere near the amount you’re asking for.” Seeing I was serious, Marcus finally snapped. He shot to his feet. “Ashley! You actually made tens of millions disappear?!” He startled me, and I stood there, bewildered. The unreasonable, furious Marcus standing before me was unrecognizable. I couldn’t believe this was the artist I’d personally brought up, the one I’d worked with day in and day out for five years. Sienna also raised her voice, suddenly shrieking, “Where did all that money go? Did you spend it all yourself?!” The people present started whispering. “We watched Marcus rise to fame. He makes so much money a year, how could it not be enough?” “Tsk, tsk, looks like artist expenses are indeed significant. We’ll have to be more careful with collaborations in the future…” “Exactly. I thought Ashley was so capable, but she can’t even manage accounts properly…” David heard the nasty comments and his face turned grim. But they all knew my character and trusted that I wasn’t reckless. David leaned in and whispered, “Ashley, clear things up now. We don’t take advantage, and we certainly won’t be taken advantage of.” Sienna, with her sharp ears, immediately shot back with a sarcastic tone, “Not taking advantage? Tens of millions are gone! You’ve made enough profit off Marcus over these five years, haven’t you? How could you possibly lose out?” David was a dignified man and wouldn’t stoop to yelling matches. His face flushed with anger. “Ashley, even between partners, accounts should be clear. You understand that, right? Don’t give anyone ammunition for gossip! Since everyone from the industry is here today, let’s settle it face-to-face!” Settle it? Of course, we would. Everyone in the room was craning their necks, eager to watch the drama unfold. How could I disappoint them? I pointed to the designer suit Marcus was wearing. “The suit you have on costs hundreds of thousands. The watch on your wrist is over a million. You have at least a dozen similar outfits in your wardrobe and safe. Were these all brand sponsorships, or did you buy them yourself?” Immediately, hushed calculations began around the room. The conclusion was whispered: “Good heavens, those outfits alone are worth over ten million!” Marcus hadn’t expected me to bring that up. His confidence wavered, and Sienna looked stunned. After a long pause, Marcus finally managed to stammer, “Some were gifted by brands, some were for work! You’re not trying to pin those on me, are you? How could you even think of that!” I was so annoyed, I laughed out loud. “When did I ever say I was going to pin them on you?” At most, it was my own misjudgment. Then my gaze shifted to Sienna. The diamond necklace around her neck was the birthday gift Marcus had “given” her this year. I knew the price: a seven-figure sum. Before today, Marcus and I had a pretty good working relationship. While he might have gotten a bit full of himself after his success and was overly image-conscious, he didn’t have any major flaws and generally treated me with respect. Especially in career planning, we were very compatible and had the same goals. He earned a lot and spent lavishly. I never imagined his generosity was because he thought all the money was his own, so he spent it without a second thought, like it was a bottomless ATM. Once the glamorous facade was torn away, our five years together turned out to be so pathetic. Just to maintain his image and reputation, I sometimes even paid for those luxury items myself. Looking back now, how foolish of me! Noticing my gaze, Sienna immediately clutched her necklace, and Marcus stepped in front of her. “That’s also my gift to Sienna! It shouldn’t be included, right?” A wave of nausea washed over me. “I know. I didn’t plan to include everything. I just want to ask you one last time: Do you still want to keep going with this audit? Do you admit that there isn’t the tens of millions you’re looking for in the account?” Marcus roared, “Yes, calculate it! Why wouldn’t we? Even if these are my expenses, it’s only a few million. Those were for work! You say there’s not enough money, so where did it go? I want to see what else you can list!” I repeated “Good” three times, then gestured for Chloe to open the projector and connect my tablet. “These are some of the invoices the company paid for you. Top-tier acting and image training courses, totaling almost five million over five years.” “Exclusive styling team, annual media relations, and crisis management fees, a fixed two million per year, which is ten million over five years.” “The extra coordination fees paid to secure your role in ‘Night Walker,’ two million.” “The cost to quell public opinion and pay compensation after your DUI incident last year, one and a half million…” Marcus ground his teeth. “Fine, those count… Even if they’re almost twenty million, my income over these years is far more than that! What about the rest?” Just then, Sienna suddenly, nervously, and with a strange expression, tugged at Marcus’s sleeve. “Marcus! Stop calculating!” Both David and I noticed her unusual behavior. Marcus looked confused. “Sienna, what are you doing? Of course we have to clear this up! How can I start my studio if we don’t? You just said…” Sienna grabbed his arm, forcing a dry laugh as she looked at everyone. “We were just a bit impulsive earlier, and maybe spoke without thinking, but it’s such a large sum of money, we were just anxious. Please don’t mind us. Let’s discuss the specific details privately. Everyone, let’s drink and celebrate Marcus’s award first!” Marcus wasn’t listening. He pushed her hand away. “Sienna! What’s there to celebrate now? According to Ashley, I not only have no money but I’m in debt! How am I supposed to start a studio? If she doesn’t clear the accounts with me today, I’m not done with her!”

“Not done with me?” I immediately announced. “Even if the accounts are cleared, our management contract ends here. I’m afraid if we continue working together, I’ll be left with nothing but bones.” Smash! The whole room fell silent. Marcus had actually hurled his champagne glass, shattering it at my feet. “Ashley! That’s enough!” His face was contorted with rage. “Did you take all my money?! Otherwise, how could tens of millions just vanish?! I truly misjudged you!” His behavior was utterly disgraceful. David and my other partner snapped out of their shock. One shielded me, the other stepped forward to confront Marcus. Marcus, seeing David approach, impulsively pushed him. Seeing this, I rushed forward without thinking. “Marcus, what are you doing!” Sienna saw me coming and tried to grab me, but David stepped in to block her. The scene instantly descended into chaos. It only got worse. People from both sides initially tried to break it up, but the pushing intensified. The room was filled with murmurs and shouts of warning. Marcus even tried to lunge at me in the commotion. Just as things spiraled completely out of control, the hotel manager burst into the ballroom with security guards. “Ladies and gentlemen! Please calm down! Or we will call the police!” With the forceful intervention of security, the two sides were finally separated. Marcus spat on the ground, pushing back his sweat-soaked hair, revealing a small cut on his forehead from the broken glass. “Ashley, I don’t think we should let it get like this. We worked together for five years, how can we just end it? Right? How about this, the contract isn’t expired yet, is it? Just pay me out the remaining money at the lowest percentage. I won’t even ask for the breach of contract fee. Let’s part ways amicably.” Part ways amicably? He just nearly threw a glass at me! Now he tells me to part ways amicably? His calculations were written all over his face! I shot back at him, “No way. Everything will be handled according to the contract.” Seeing my resolve, he dropped the act and yelled, “Fine! Ashley, you want to play hardball! Then give me what’s mine right now, or I’ll make sure everyone knows what kind of person you really are!” I clutched my arm, where I’d been pushed, and calmly replied, “I’m sending you all the relevant account statements right now. Take a good look. Not only do you not have any ‘savings,’ but your actions constitute a breach of contract, and the company will pursue legal action against you. I’ll return your words: if this isn’t settled by contract, we’ll see each other in court. If you want to clear things up, let’s do it now. If you don’t understand anything, you can ask publicly.” With that, I directly displayed the relevant document pages from my tablet. Marcus was about to look when Sienna suddenly rushed forward and smashed the tablet to the floor. Marcus stared, stunned. “Sienna, what are you doing?!” Sienna, unable to come up with an excuse, clutched her head and swayed to the side. “Oh, my head is spinning, Marcus, quick, take me to the lounge…” Marcus took Sienna and left, but not before threatening me to “just wait.” Soon, the crowd dispersed, leaving only David and me. David sighed. “Ashley, let’s start legal proceedings now. Those two aren’t going to back down.” I nodded, knowing that the real trouble was just beginning.

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I was born bad. That’s what my family’s “psychic” black cat decided about me. Mom always said the cat could sense people’s true nature. Good hearts drew it close. Evil ones made it hiss and snarl. When Jasmine—the girl my parents took in—stole money from the house to tip male streamers on TikTok, the black cat would just roll over lazily, exposing its belly to her. But me? Even when I was just trying to feed it a small fish because it looked hungry, it would arch its back and screech at me, its claws leaving deep, bleeding gashes across my hands. At first, I tried to explain. But Mom would just shove me away: “Beasts have instincts. They don’t wrong innocent people! Maybe the pain will teach you something!” After countless scratches and insults, I started to believe it too. That I was rotten to the core. The day the hurricane made landfall, seawater flooded the streets. A heavy shelving unit collapsed and pinned my leg. I struggled, reaching out to Mom as she ran past: “Mom! Help me! My leg is trapped!” But that black cat just screeched at me like I was a demon. Mom glanced at me thrashing in the muddy water. Her eyes turned cold and vicious: “Playing victim to drag us down with you? You really are rotten to your core!” She picked up Jasmine and climbed onto the only life raft without looking back. As the icy seawater covered my nose and mouth, drowning me, I couldn’t help but think—Mom must be right. The cat was screaming, so I must not really be trapped. I must just be evil. I’m sorry, Mom. In my next life, I’ll be good.

When my soul left my body, I actually felt relief. The burning agony in my stomach and the suffocating feeling of cold water filling my lungs—both finally disappeared. I floated in mid-air, looking down at my own body. Nothing but skin and bones, crushed under a heavy metal shelving unit in the murky, muddy water. Strange. Even though I was dead, I could still “see” something at the location of my stomach—a dense mass of dark, ominous energy coiled there. So that black cat hadn’t been wrong after all. I really was bad. Rotten to the core. Even my soul carried filth. The hurricane lasted three days. On the fourth day, the water receded. I heard Mom and Jasmine coming home, laughing and chatting. “Mom, thank god you made that quick decision. We got to stay in that downtown hotel for three days and even bought the latest gaming console.” That was Jasmine’s voice, tinged with smugness. “Of course. When have I ever steered you wrong?” Mom’s tone dripped with affection. The door swung open. Seeing the mess and mud covering everything, Mom’s face instantly soured. She raised her voice, shouting into the empty house: “Aria! Where the hell are you?! Even the cat made it home before you!” A black cat gracefully stepped inside—Shadow, the “judge” who’d decided my fate. It avoided the trash on the floor and leaped lightly onto the only clean surface left: the top of a cabinet. I floated in front of Mom, my soul so weak it was nearly transparent. I opened my mouth and used every ounce of strength I had left to shout: “Mom, my stomach hurts so much. I’m right here…” Of course, she couldn’t hear me. She just waved her hand irritably, like she was swatting away an annoying mosquito. Just then, Shadow suddenly arched its back and let out a piercing shriek—directed at the spot where my body lay. Mom’s gaze immediately followed. She looked at the collapsed shelving and debris. Her face showed no concern for her missing daughter. Instead, she sneered coldly. “See? Even the cat can sense how unlucky this place is. That brat must have brought bad energy back home.” Jasmine chimed in gleefully: “Aria probably thought cleaning up was too much work and ran off again. She’s always been lazy.” Mom nodded approvingly. “Exactly. A bad seed like her has no conscience. We don’t need to worry about her.” “Starve her for a few days. She’ll crawl back on her own.” I watched them, their casual cruelty so natural. A bone-deep chill pierced my soul. Late that night, after they’d gone to sleep, I drifted back to my corpse and stared at that pale, swollen face. Memories flooded back—all those nights I’d been punished, forbidden from eating. I’d hidden in back alleys, fighting stray dogs for scraps in dumpsters. Spoiled buns. Moldy bread. Even rotten vegetable leaves covered in dirt. That’s when my stomach first started hurting—like a small knife scraping and burning inside me. I thought it was just hunger. It wasn’t. It was me. I was broken.

On the fifth day, the weather cleared. Once the sun came out, the smell inside the house became absolutely horrific. The heat and humidity accelerated decomposition. The stench mixed rotting flesh with the particular foulness of diseased organs. Mom finally couldn’t take it anymore and started cleaning the living room. She cleaned while cursing under her breath. “That damn Aria, who knows where she ran off to. Left the house looking like a garbage dump!” A small brown medicine bottle rolled across the floor and blocked her mop. It was my stomach medicine bottle. When the pain got unbearable, I’d secretly used money from collecting recyclables to buy it. Cheap stuff, but it helped a little. Mom read the label. Her face twisted with contempt. “More of her fake sick act!” She kicked the bottle away like it was trash, sending it rolling into a corner. The bottle disappeared into the mud. Gone forever. I wanted so badly to tell her: Mom, it really hurt. I wasn’t faking. But I could only watch helplessly. The putrid smell in the air grew stronger and stronger. Mom finally couldn’t hold it in. She covered her nose and gagged. “Did that slob Aria drag home garbage from the dumpsters?! Why does it stink so bad?!” She cursed while searching for the source of the smell. Jasmine emerged from her room, also covering her nose. That’s when she spotted something poking out from under the shelving through the mud. My swollen, purple fingers. Jasmine’s whole body jerked in fright, her face going deathly pale. But she quickly recovered. Calmly, she used her foot to kick a floating piece of dirty wood over, covering my hand perfectly. “Mom,” she whined, hugging Margaret’s arm, “This smell is disgusting. Let’s just go back to the hotel!” “When Aria gets back, make her scrub every inch of this floor on her knees!” Mom agreed immediately. “Good idea. Let’s go! Let her guard this garbage heap by herself!” Before leaving, Mom seemed to remember something. She went to the kitchen and locked all the crackers and bread from the cupboard into a metal box. Then she opened the fridge and dumped everything inside—all the leftovers, even half a carton of milk—straight into the trash. After finishing, she looked satisfied, like she’d gotten revenge. She dusted off her hands. “Want to sneak back and steal food? Not a chance!” I watched them throw away all that food, feeling nothing but numbness. Once upon a time, those things had been “delicacies” I’d searched dumpsters for hours to find. The door slammed shut. It didn’t just seal off that reeking space. It severed the last thread of possibility that they might ever treat me like a human being.

On the sixth day, the smell of death grew so strong that the entire building could smell it. The neighbors couldn’t stand it anymore. Someone finally called the police. Two officers knocked on our door. Mom opened it. When she saw the police, she froze for a moment, then quickly put on a pitiful expression. “Officers, what can I do for you?” “We received a report about a very strong odor coming from your home. There’s concern that something might be decomposing.” Mom’s heart jumped, but her face remained calm. She denied it flatly: “No, nothing like that. The hurricane just brought in some water. It’s a little musty, that’s all.” One officer frowned. “Is someone in your household missing?” Mom’s eyes flickered. She sighed and began her performance. “Don’t even get me started. My ungrateful daughter ran away from home.” She wiped at her completely dry eyes, her voice carrying just the right amount of grievance. “Officers, you don’t understand. My biological daughter has always been rebellious. This time she didn’t like the mess and just left without a word. She’s probably off with some boy!” “Biological daughter”—she said those words quickly, almost urgently, like she’d let something slip. I floated in the air, watching her coldly. She was lying again. But this time, she’d accidentally said something that was actually true. The officers were skeptical and tried to enter the house for an inspection. Mom blocked them desperately. “It’s such a mess inside. I can’t let you in! When she comes home, I’ll make sure to discipline her properly!” Eventually, the police left, fooled by her lies. The moment they were gone, Jasmine crept out of her room, her face full of panic. “Mom, the cat kept meowing just now. It says there’s bad energy here. What if Aria… brought something unclean home?” Jasmine’s words played right into Mom’s superstitions. She believed in this stuff completely. “You’re right!” Mom slapped her thigh. “That cursed girl must have picked up bad luck somewhere and brought it back here!” And so, a grand “purification ritual” began. Mom went out and bought loads of sage and incense, lighting them all over the house. Thick smoke instantly filled every room, choking anyone who tried to open their eyes. Jasmine “helpfully” went to my shabby closet and pulled out my only thick jacket. Dad had brought it back for me one New Year. It was cheap, from a street vendor, but I’d treasured it. Jasmine held up my jacket and said to Mom: “Mom, I read that burning her belongings will sever the dead’s attachment and scare the spirit away from coming home.” “Burn it! Burn it all!” Without hesitation, Mom threw the jacket into the burning basin. Flames licked at the fabric and quickly devoured it. Just then, Dad’s video call came through. On the screen was his impatient face. “How’s everything at home? Why is there so much smoke?” Mom was coughing from the thick smoke but forced a smile at the screen. “Everything’s fine. Just a little damp, so I’m burning some stuff.” Dad grunted, then asked casually: “Where’s Aria? Let me talk to her.” Mom glanced at Jasmine. Jasmine immediately understood, lowering her head to look hurt and innocent. Mom sighed and said into the phone: “Your wonderful daughter? She’s something else! Didn’t like the mess here, so she ran off with some guy. It’s been seven days and she hasn’t come home. Her phone’s off too!” “Forget about her! Better if she dies out there!” Dad went silent for a few seconds on the other end. Finally, he just said irritably, “Got it,” and hung up. From start to finish, he never asked another question. In the swirling smoke, I watched this couple—one lying, one indifferent. Together, they’d burned away the last trace of my existence.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “345394”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn

The new secretary at the office has the same name as me, but she’s ten years younger. During the company’s annual health check, the medical staff mixed up our ages and gave me her HIV-positive test results by mistake. When I found out it was a false alarm, I was relieved. I was still trying to figure out how to gently break the truth to the secretary when I accidentally caught her hooking up with my husband in his office. I stood outside Connor Blackwell’s office, the test report in my hand practically crumpling under my grip. A woman’s flirty voice drifted through the door. “Connor, be gentle. I’m carrying your baby, remember?” Connor held her close, his voice dripping with affection as he chuckled softly. “Don’t worry. The doctor said it’s fine to have sex during pregnancy.” “But…” “Relax. Once the baby’s born, I’m making you my wife.” My brain exploded. The woman kept up her act, her voice sickeningly sweet. “But what about Iris? She’s already 35. Poor thing.” My name is Iris Bennett. The company’s new secretary? Her name is Iris Bennett too. She’s ten years younger than me, fresh out of college, all dewy-eyed and perky. Connor let out a cold snort. “She can’t even give me a kid. If she wasn’t somewhat useful to the company all these years, I would’ve divorced her ages ago.” I leaned against the hallway wall, my entire body going cold. We’ve been married for ten years. I never got pregnant because Connor has low sperm count. To protect his fragile ego, I covered for him. I told everyone it was my problem, that we could try IVF. To have a baby, I endured round after round of fertility shots, suffering through every needle. Turns out, in his mind, I was just a hen that couldn’t lay eggs. The secretary giggled happily. “Connor, I saw this pregnancy mattress I really want. It’s like fifty thousand dollars…” “Buy it.” Connor agreed without hesitation. “I’ll transfer you a hundred grand. Use the rest for supplements. You’re carrying my child—I won’t let you suffer.” Just last night, I’d transferred a hundred thousand dollars to Connor. He said his mom had a heart attack and needed bypass surgery. All his money was tied up in projects, and he couldn’t liquidate fast enough. That hundred thousand was my money. My mom gave it to me before she died. She said it was a woman’s security, not to be touched unless absolutely necessary. I transferred it anyway. I thought it was saving a life. Turns out, it went to his mistress. I turned and left, my steps unsteady, my mind a chaotic mess. I thought back to three days ago, when the company organized its annual wellness screening. I arrived late. By the time I got there, all the test packets had been handed out. The nurse rummaged around for a while before finding mine. “Iris Bennett, right?” I glanced at it, ready to shove the report into my bag, when I noticed a line of small print at the bottom: [HIV preliminary screening: Positive. Recommend follow-up testing immediately.] I froze. My first thought was: impossible. Connor and I have been married ten years. Our sex life has been practically nonexistent. In the past six months, he barely touched me. And I’ve never been with anyone else. How could I have this disease? Then a nurse rushed over, flustered, saying they’d mixed up the reports. That’s when I realized—they’d accidentally swapped mine with another Iris in the company. She was the new secretary. Only 25 years old. I was still trying to figure out how to delicately suggest she get retested when I overheard the conversation in his office.

I didn’t go back to the office. Instead, I drove straight to the city’s CDC clinic. Registration. Blood draw. Testing. The doctor said post-exposure prophylaxis works best within 72 hours of high-risk contact. Taking it now? The effectiveness was uncertain. I picked up the medication and swallowed it with cold water. Whether it worked or not, I had to take it. As I walked out of the clinic, I spotted a familiar license plate. Connor’s black Audi. In the passenger seat, the secretary leaned against him, smiling sweetly. They were at the clinic too. I ducked behind a pillar and overheard the secretary asking in a sugary voice: “Connor, did you hear? Someone at the company tested positive for HIV.” Connor frowned. “Who told you that?” “Jake from HR told me secretly. He said they didn’t release the name to protect privacy.” The secretary lowered her voice. “Who do you think it is?” Connor scoffed. “Who cares? It’s got nothing to do with us. Just focus on the baby and stop worrying.” “But…” “No buts.” Connor pulled her closer. “That kind of dirty disease—only people who sleep around get it. Not like you who gave me her first time.” She nestled into his arms, blushing. “Then you better treat me right…” “Of course I will.” I stayed hidden behind the pillar, my nails digging into my palms. Her first time? If she’d only been with Connor, she wouldn’t have that disease. Just then, my phone buzzed. It was Marcus Reed, the headhunter. “Have you thought about it? We’re still holding the position for you. Fifty percent salary increase, plus equity incentives.” Marcus had been trying to recruit me for six months. I’d always turned him down. Because Connor built his company from the ground up, and I was his first employee. From a startup with three desks to a team of over fifty people—I’d given everything. I thought we’d be together forever. Now I see how stupid I was. “I’ve made up my mind.” My voice was calm. “I can start next week.” “Fantastic!” Marcus sounded thrilled. “I’ll send the offer letter right away.” I hung up and watched Connor’s car pull out of the clinic parking lot. The last bit of reluctance in my heart vanished completely. That evening, Connor came home early. For once. Takeout boxes sat on the table. He’d even lit candles. “You’re back?” He looked up at me, smiling warmly. “Long day?” I stood in the doorway, unmoving. “What’s wrong?” He walked over, reaching for my bag. I stepped back. His hand froze mid-air. “I’m not feeling well.” I said. “Might be coming down with something.” His eyes flickered, but he quickly smiled again. “Get some rest then. Oh, by the way, I’m going on a business trip next week. About a week.” I sneered inwardly. Going on a romantic getaway with the secretary , more like. I’d just seen her bragging about it on Instagram. “Okay.” I nodded. “I’m going on a trip too.” He blinked. “You’re traveling?” “Yeah. A project I need to close.” I kept my expression neutral. “Might be gone two weeks.” “That long?” He frowned, but quickly relaxed. “Alright. Stay safe.” Then he leaned closer. “It’s been a while since we… you know. How about tonight?” He smiled suggestively, his hand sliding to my waist. Every hair on my body stood on end. Not from desire. From disgust. “I can’t.” I pushed him away. “I’m sick. I don’t want you to catch it.” He looked annoyed. “It’s just a cold…” “What if it’s the flu?” I stared at him. “You can’t afford to get sick right now. The company needs you.” He finally backed off, looking sheepish. “Fine. Get some sleep.” I locked myself in the bathroom. Turned on the shower. My stomach churned. I scrubbed the places he’d touched, scrubbing until my skin turned red. Thank God he hadn’t touched me in the past six months. Otherwise, I’d be the one at the clinic getting blood drawn.

The next morning, I went to the office to submit my resignation letter. The HR manager looked shocked. “Ms. Bennett, why are you suddenly resigning? Does Connor know?” “I’ll tell him myself.” I slid the letter across the desk. “According to my contract, I have a one-month transition period.” “I… I need to check with Connor first.” “No need.” The office door swung open. The secretary strutted in wearing high heels, clutching a report in her hand. She looked at me, a smile on her lips but contempt in her eyes. “Iris is resigning?” She slapped the report on the desk. “Is it because of this?” I looked down. It was the mixed-up test report. On the last page, a line of small print had been circled in red pen: [HIV preliminary screening: Positive.] The HR manager gasped. Outside the office, a crowd had gathered, whispering: “Ms. Bennett has HIV?” “She always acted so proper…” “I literally ate lunch with her today. Could I get infected?” I looked up at the secretary . “This isn’t my test report.” “It’s not?” She raised an eyebrow. “But it clearly has your name on it.” “The nurse made a mistake. If you don’t believe me, call the clinic.” The secretary smiled. “Then why are you resigning? Is it because you got this dirty disease and you’re too ashamed to stay? Are you quitting to go get treatment?” Connor burst into the room. He saw the report on the desk. His face turned gray. “Iris!” He pointed at me, his voice shaking. “What the hell is this?!” I said nothing. The secretary clung to his arm, her voice soft. “Connor, don’t be upset. Maybe Iris went to a dirty public bathhouse or something…” “A bathhouse?” Connor shoved her aside, his eyes bloodshot as he glared at me. “This is a dirty disease! Only people who sleep around get it!” Silence fell over the room. Everyone stared at us. I looked at Connor. This man I’d loved for ten years. The disgust and fear in his eyes were so real, so piercing. “I didn’t sleep around.” I said. “Then how did you get this disease?!” He roared. “You think I’m an idiot?!” The secretary spoke softly. “Connor, I looked it up. Iris doesn’t have symptoms yet, so it must be early-stage infection. Maybe one or two months…” Connor froze, then visibly relaxed. “One month…” He muttered. “Thank God I haven’t touched you in months…” I laughed. “So,” I looked at Connor, “you actually believe I have HIV?” “The evidence is right here!” He jabbed at the report. “You still gonna deny it?!” “Then what if I told you,” I said slowly, “that I’m pregnant?” The office erupted. “Pregnant?!” “Ms. Bennett is pregnant?!” “Then the baby…” Connor’s face went completely dark. “Bullshit!” He screamed. “How long has it been since I touched you?! Whose asshole are you carrying?!” The secretary looked stunned, but quickly recovered. “Iris, even if you want to keep Connor, you can’t make up lies like this…” “I’m not lying.” I touched my stomach. “I just found out yesterday, I am pregnant.” “That night Connor got drunk…”

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Mom was a parenting influencer with a million followers. She preached about raising children with freedom and respect for their natural instincts, yet she demanded I score perfect grades. For every point less than 100%, she’d slap me once. If I scored 90%, I’d be locked in the basement for ten hours without food. To control me and my twin sister, Mom had “anti-laziness chips” implanted near our hearts. If I zoned out for even one minute, my heart would throb with excruciating pain. But when Bella binge-watched ten episodes of a TV series, Mom said she was just “balancing work and play.” Bella secretly erased my name from my perfect-score test and wrote hers instead. Mom flew into a rage. She stormed to school and slapped me ninety-nine times in front of my entire class. “You got a zero? How stupid can you be!” Dad was silent for a few seconds before saying, “Elena, your mom is doing this for your own good. Don’t blame her.” Everyone sided with Mom, accusing me of being ungrateful. I tried to explain, but the next thing I felt was the piercing electric shock. I looked at her with questioning eyes. What about Bella? Why does she get to do whatever she wants? My lips turned pale as I whispered, “Mom, I can’t take this anymore.” Mom looked down at me from above. “You scored a zero. You have no right to be lazy. Study now! No food until you finish.” Outside my bedroom, the house was lively. I couldn’t help thinking—maybe if I just rest for a moment, Mom won’t notice.

The chip had been activated long ago. Whenever I wasn’t actively studying, it would keep working, keep shocking me. “Mom, it hurts so much. In my next life, I don’t want to hurt like this anymore.” “Mom, I’m sorry. I’m just so tired.” The constant electric shocks made my body convulse on the bed. My arms were covered in bloody scratch marks. The door opened. Mom came in. Can I eat now? I’m so hungry! “Elena, why are you lying in bed again? Why haven’t you finished your math problems?” She grabbed my chin, her voice seething with anger. “When will you stop being so lazy? If you don’t get into college, what will happen to you? Who’s going to want you?” “Get up and write! Now!” “No food until you finish!” Mom must have forgotten I hadn’t eaten in a day and a night. Otherwise, why wouldn’t she let me eat? Bella called from the doorway. “Mom! The Christmas Eve special is about to start. Come watch TV!” “Mom, just forgive Elena. I’m sure she didn’t mean to get a zero.” Mom stood up, her voice filled with resentment. “I think she’s deliberately trying to make me die of anger.” “How did I give birth to such a useless daughter!” Years of mental control, combined with constant beatings and abuse. I couldn’t understand. We were both her biological daughters—why did my own mother treat me and my twin sister so differently? “Don’t worry about her. I’ll use the app to turn the chip up to maximum. Then we’ll see if she dares to slack off!” Dad hesitated outside the door. “Won’t that be too much for Elena to handle?” “It’s Christmas Eve. Let her rest for one day.” Mom shot him a look. “Elena’s spoiled because of you. She’ll never learn unless it hurts.” “This is the only way she’ll get into a good college.” Dad hesitated. “But…” Before he could finish, Mom cut him off. “Look, they both have the same chip. Why doesn’t Bella feel pain?” “It’s because Elena is too lazy. Not like Bella, who scores perfect grades.” Bella stood beside them, gently holding Mom’s arm. “Mom, don’t worry. I’d never slack off like Elena. You can turn on my chip if you don’t believe me.” Mom stroked her hand. “I believe you. That’s why you get perfect scores.” “You’re such a good girl, Bella. I’ll never activate your chip.” So Bella’s chip didn’t hurt—not because it didn’t work, but because Mom had never turned it on. The shocks grew stronger. Our handwriting on the test was so different, yet Mom never questioned it. Bella closed the door. “Elena, study hard. I’m going to watch the fireworks with Mom and Dad.” I want to go too. The fireworks filling the sky must be so beautiful. It hurts so much. The chip is reminding me not to slack off. But I’m not slacking off. I’m the one who got the perfect score. I forced myself to sit up but instantly collapsed from the shock. Mom, I’m not slacking off. I’ve been studying so hard. I’m just so tired, so exhausted. Just let me rest for a moment. Just one moment. But slowly, I stopped feeling the pain. With my last bit of strength, I dragged myself to the desk. I pulled out a crumpled notebook. Inside were all my memories with Mom. January 15th. Sunny. Mom checked the app and said I got distracted for two minutes in class. She locked me in the pitch-black basement for two hours. Mom gave me the free pumpkin cookies that came with her order. Mom really loves me. Bella ate snacks during class. Mom didn’t scold her—she took her out for dinner at a fancy restaurant instead. This time, I wasn’t just writing a diary entry. I wanted to write down the whole truth. “Mom, I really wasn’t slacking off or sleeping in. I woke up at 5 a.m. every school day, but Bella kept hiding my school ID so I couldn’t get into the building.” “Mom, the perfect-score test was mine. Bella lied. I know you don’t believe me, but I left you a letter. You’ll understand after you read it.” “Mom, tonight I wasn’t deliberately avoiding my homework. It’s because I’m dying. Can you forgive me?” By the time I finished writing the last word, the yellowed paper was soaked with my tears. The old pen fell to the floor and broke. Even though Mom gave me a used pen while Bella got a 14K gold one, I still treasured it. It was the only gift Mom ever gave me. But now I couldn’t pick it up. My heart was being shocked continuously by the chip, but I couldn’t feel the pain anymore. My expression froze as I watched myself float upward. So this is what dying feels like.

On Christmas Eve, the house was quiet inside, lively outside. I hid in Mom’s closet. It smelled like her. Past midnight, the door opened. It was Bella. “Mom, I want to sleep with you tonight.” Mom’s gentle voice responded. “Of course, sweetheart. Whatever you want.” “I’m always Mommy’s good girl.” Listening to their laughter, I couldn’t help remembering—for as long as I could remember, Mom had never hugged me, let alone let me sleep with her. I came out of the closet, instinctively wanting to heat up their milk. Every night before, I’d heat them each a glass of milk before they went to bed. It was ingrained in my bones. “Mom, the milk is the perfect temperature. Please don’t be angry. I promise I’ll only eat, sleep, and study from now on.” But my hand passed right through the cup. Mom frowned. “Elena! Don’t you know we’re about to go to sleep?” “Slacking off again? Why haven’t you come out to heat our milk?” I froze. Mom, I haven’t. Bella deliberately said, “Mom, Elena’s probably mad we didn’t take her to see the fireworks. She’s hiding in her room sulking.” Mom grabbed the baseball bat nearby. “At her age, throwing tantrums? I’ll beat her until she behaves!” Seeing the bat, I started trembling reflexively. If Mom finds out I’m dead, will she hit me less? I followed Mom as she floated toward my little storage room. It wasn’t big—just enough space for a 0.9-meter bed and a small desk. On the desk was a small lamp and mountains of test papers piled high. Click. The door swung open with a creak. Mom tried to turn on the light, but it had been broken for a while. In the faint glow from the fireworks outside, she could barely make out my shape lying in bed. The blanket covered my head. Mom was furious. She jabbed at me with the baseball bat. “All you do is sleep. How did I give birth to such a lazy daughter?” Tears streamed down my face. “Mom, I’m not sleeping. Just lift the blanket and you’ll see!” “Mom, I’m really not sleeping…” But she couldn’t hear me. Mom walked closer to the bed, step by step. Just as she was about to pull back the blanket— I held my breath. The next second. Mom opened the app controlling the chip. “The app shows you studied attentively for less than ten minutes. You spent the rest of the time slacking off.” Bella walked in, boasting. “Mom, I studied for eight hours today. Not like Elena.” “That’s wonderful. Don’t you dare turn out like Elena.” Mom said coldly, “The app just released a new punishment mode—hypothermia. Whenever Elena feels sleepy while studying, it’ll make her so cold she wakes up.” Dad hesitated. “It’s Christmas Eve. Don’t make her cold. Just let Elena sleep warm for one night.” Mom snapped, “Sleep? Absolutely not!” “Warmth kills the will to study. You’re the one who spoiled her.” “Look at the app—she can’t even focus for a full hour. She has zero self-control.” “I’m doing this for her own good.” “Stop coddling her. When she wakes up freezing in the middle of the night, she’ll realize her mistake.” She closed the door. The storage room plunged into darkness again. I crouched in the corner. So cold. Cold to the core. Mom, if you’d given me even a fraction of your love, you would’ve noticed I wasn’t even breathing. If I were sleeping, how could I not feel pain? Mom didn’t used to be like this. In winter, she’d ask if I wore enough layers. In summer, she’d remind me to drink water every day… But ever since that anti-laziness chip, everything changed. She only trusted the chip’s readings. She stopped believing anything I said.

The next day, the smell of frying bacon and chocolate muffins woke my spirit. This was my favorite breakfast. But I hadn’t had it in so long. Mom said people who scored zeros only deserved water. I knew Mom was using food to make me submit. But I was too exhausted to explain anymore. No matter what I said, no matter how I defended myself, Mom thought I was making excuses. Wait—I don’t need food anymore. Dad looked at his newspaper. “Why isn’t Elena up yet?” “Did the cold actually make her sick?” Mom slammed down her fork. “How is that possible? She’s probably just throwing another tantrum.” Bella ate her bacon and muffins with relish. Suddenly, her eyes lit up. She walked to my door and said loudly, “Elena, your teacher sent you a message. She said anyone who got a zero has to copy the entire textbook.” I looked at Bella. She was the one who had to copy the textbook. When no one answered from inside, Mom walked over. “Elena! Did you hear me? You’re not coming out until you finish copying.” Dad put down his newspaper and picked up a muffin. “At least let Elena eat something before she copies. Otherwise the kid won’t be able to handle it.” Dad walked closer to my room, step by step. My heart rose to my throat. If Dad opened the door, he’d definitely notice I wouldn’t wake up no matter how much he called. Seeing me motionless and curled up, he’d definitely pull back the blanket to check if I had a fever. Dad pushed open the door. Light streamed in. Mom was outside, muttering angrily. “Still lying there. So incredibly lazy…” Dad set down the muffin, suspicion rising. “Elena, why aren’t you up yet? Are you feeling sick?” “Are you still mad at your mom? She just wants you to improve. Don’t blame her.” Dad’s hand landed on my blanket. I held my breath instinctively. A second later, I realized—I didn’t need to breathe anymore. But just then, Dad’s phone rang. “What?” “Okay, I’ll be right there.” He rushed out of my room and grabbed his coat. “My coworker got in a car accident. I need to cover his shift. Take care of the girls.” Before Mom could respond, Dad was already out the door, his back barely visible. He was so close. Just a little closer and Dad would’ve discovered I was dead. Maybe then Mom wouldn’t blame me anymore. Mom stood in the doorway. “Elena, I’ve locked the door from the outside. Starting today, you’ll stay in your room and copy that textbook. You’ll come out when you’re done.” After locking it, Mom pocketed the key with satisfaction. I stared at the locked door—just like my heart. Dead. My spirit never made a sound. If she’d just looked at me once, asked me once, she would’ve realized I was dead. But Mom didn’t. She didn’t even step one foot into my room. Mom, if there’s a next life, please don’t be my mother.

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I just found out I was pregnant. Then I found out my husband was cheating. But everyone in my life told me to forgive him. My husband got on his knees and swore he’d never contact that woman again. I swallowed my disgust and decided to forgive him this once. But the trauma triggered severe depression and OCD. From that day on, my husband had to disinfect everything he touched. If he wanted to touch my arm, he had to wear gloves. Finally, when I complained about finding a single hair on the floor, he snapped. He ripped off his protective gear and exploded. “Enough! I cheated ONCE, and you’re going to punish me forever? You’re acting like a psycho!” He deliberately trashed the house. Smashed plates. Kicked over the garbage can. As I stood there looking at the mess, a sharp pain tore through my stomach. Blood began streaming down my legs. And I felt… relieved. “Derek, let’s get divorced.” 1 I couldn’t let it go. The betrayal cut too deep. Knowing that when I was just one month pregnant, he couldn’t keep it in his pants. He had to screw his secretary. The disgust wouldn’t go away. I tried. God, I tried. I tried to forget. Tried to listen to our families. Tried to be the forgiving wife. But I couldn’t. Derek shoved the door open, grabbed his coat, and stormed out. “I can’t do this anymore. I’m a person too. You want a divorce? Fine. Let’s divorce.” He couldn’t even look at me. Didn’t notice the blood pooling on the floor. The contractions at five months hit hard. I collapsed, barely managing to call 91

The tears wouldn’t stop. I never imagined we’d end up here. Hating each other. I remembered him when we were young. That confident smile. All our friends watching as he carried me to the wedding car. He promised forever. We kissed in that church like we meant it. But promises mean nothing. The paramedics lifted me onto the stretcher. They stared at all the blood. The EMT examined me, her face grim. “I’m sorry, but you’re losing a lot of blood. The baby… you need to prepare yourself.” The tears kept coming. My body screamed in pain, but my heart hurt worse. I remembered how excited I was when I first found out about the baby. I bought all those books. Did all that research. Tried so hard to be a good mom. But… I’m sorry. I have to choose myself first. I went through all the pain of labor anyway. Drenched in sweat. Lying there like a corpse while they delivered my dead baby. I cremated my child alone. The ashes were so small. Too small to even gather properly. Like he knew. Like he was helping me make the hardest choice of my life. I found him a beautiful place to rest. Derek didn’t call once during any of this. Even after the hospital contacted him following protocol, he chose to disappear. Maybe he was that angry. But what about me? All I had was my OCD. One single way to process the pain. Otherwise, I wanted to disappear too. So dirty… Why did you do this to me? After burying my baby, I went straight to a law firm. Asked for divorce papers. When I got back to the hospital for my follow-up, my parents,Richard and Helen called. 2 They didn’t ask if I was okay. They immediately defended Derek. “Honey, why are you fighting again? Marriage takes compromise. You can’t be so stubborn. Stop throwing around the word ‘divorce.’ It looks bad.” I was exhausted. No energy left to argue. I didn’t understand their obsession with keeping a dying marriage on life support. First they used the baby to guilt me. Now what excuse did they have? So I said it calmly. “I miscarried. The baby’s gone.” Long silence. Then they hung up. That afternoon, Derek’s parents,Thomas and Patricia showed up first since they lived closer. They stared at my flat stomach with disappointment, promising they’d talk sense into Derek. “That little punk. How could he take such poor care of you? And where the hell is he?” “Clara, don’t worry. We’ll teach that boy a lesson. We won’t let him back in the house until you’ve calmed down.” Same old script. Acting like they’re on my side while covering for their son. Like he could do anything and be forgiven. A wave of exhaustion washed over me. I wasn’t angry anymore. I just didn’t love him. Didn’t want anything to do with him. My voice came out cold and firm. “I want a divorce.” Their faces changed instantly. “Clara, don’t think like that. You two just need to work things out. If Derek messed up, we’ll make him change.” Patricia muttered under her breath. “Women can be too dramatic sometimes.” Dramatic? I grabbed my hospital gown, my voice ice-cold. “I’m getting divorced no matter what you say. Derek already agreed. If you have questions, ask him.” They didn’t believe me. Called Derek right there. Derek was still pissed. When he heard what I said, he ran with it. “Yeah, fine. Let’s divorce. I can’t take it anymore. You know how miserable my life is? I cheated, okay? But I changed. I fired the secretary. What more do you want?” “Should I die and go back in time to not cheat? I told you—I was drunk. Didn’t realize what I was doing. It happened. We need to move forward.” He hung up before they could tell him about the miscarriage. Just brushed past all my pain like it was nothing. Didn’t he think there’d be consequences when he was screwing her? Cheaters are trash. And he had the audacity to act like the victim? Five months. From early pregnancy until now. The hormone swings amplified everything. I couldn’t take medication for my depression because of the baby. He slept soundly while I cried between bouts of vomiting. Back pain. Swelling. Hair falling out in clumps. I was a balloon filled with darkness, wanting to die every single moment. Everyone took away my medication. For the baby. But what about me? I’m a person too. Who thought about me? What gave him the right to complain about suffering? About humiliation? About being the victim? My parents arrived next. Just like when they pressured me to get married, now they pressured me to stay married. “Listen to us. No divorce. Your father and I would never hurt you.” My successful son-in-law made her look good. Great job. High income. Her friends were so impressed. But I didn’t want it anymore. Looking at her face, I grabbed a cup and smashed it. “Enough! From now on, I’m responsible for my own life.” 3 When my parents realized they couldn’t control me, they gave me the silent treatment. Said if I divorced, they’d disown me. I ignored them. Once I felt better, I took the divorce papers to Derek’s office myself. As I walked toward his office, a familiar figure slipped inside ahead of me. That perfume. I froze. Miranda. Derek’s secretary. The one he supposedly fired. My heart clenched painfully. Another lie. Endless betrayals and lies. This was his idea of admitting fault and changing. I heard happy voices inside. They went silent the moment I opened the door. Miranda’s hand rested casually on Derek’s shoulder. Way too close for any professional relationship. Derek looked panicked, but he still pulled Miranda behind him protectively. “Clara, let me explain. It’s not what you think.” He expected me to act like before. To cry hysterically. To demand he choose. To make him cut contact. To make him swear he’d never do it again. To force him back to our marriage. To make a scene in front of everyone. But I was done with that. I felt stupid for ever acting that way. Cheating happens zero times or infinite times. There’s no in-between. I handed him the papers. “Sign these. Once you do, it’s final. Divorce papers. You already agreed.” Derek finally noticed my stomach. Once obviously swollen. Now flat. He stumbled backward. “Clara… the baby…” He thought his parents were exaggerating to make him come crawling back. That’s why he kept avoiding the hospital. He wanted to teach me a lesson. Wanted me to apologize. But seeing it with his own eyes, he couldn’t form words. “Clara, I’m sorry. I… I didn’t think you actually miscarried. I was so angry.” Miranda’s eyes turned red. She looked pitiful. “Clara, please don’t misunderstand. This is all my fault. Without this job, I can’t survive. I know I was wrong. There’s nothing between Derek and me anymore, I swear.” “That night was an accident. Now I have the lowest position in the company. Please, I’m begging you. Let me live.” She looked more and more pathetic. Like she might drop to her knees. A shelf behind her started to fall. Derek immediately stepped in front of me. But when he heard Miranda cry out, he pivoted and pulled her into his arms. He checked her frantically. “Are you okay? Did you get hurt?” I dodged out of the way. The bookshelf grazed my shoulder as it crashed down. Dust filled my mouth. My eyes burned. Instinct doesn’t lie. I never stood a chance. Derek never let her go. I looked down. A book had fallen open, revealing a used condom inside. The visceral disgust triggered my OCD hard. My stomach churned violently. I bent over, dry heaving helplessly. Only then did Derek remember I existed. He rushed over. “Clara, are you alright?” I screamed and shoved him away hard. “Don’t touch me! Get away from me!” No matter how strong I tried to be, the tears still came. So dirty. Everything was so dirty. I’d suffered so much, but no one stood up for me. No one spoke for me. Everyone told me to be understanding. To move forward. I ran to the bathroom and threw up until I couldn’t anymore. 4 I felt so awful I went back to the hospital. As I was about to leave, something happened at the entrance. My parents were there. They grabbed Miranda and slapped her hard. “You homewrecking slut! Bullying my daughter? How shameless are you, going after a married man?” People gathered around, all cursing at her. “Disgusting. And she looks so innocent too.” Turns out Derek had brought Miranda to the hospital for a tiny scratch on her foot. He didn’t expect to run into my parents. Miranda’s face went pale. Tears filled her eyes. Then she ran toward the roof. Eyes brimming with tears, red handprint on her face making her look fragile. Derek came rushing back from the pharmacy. He didn’t see anyone else. Not me. Just Miranda. He kept calling for her not to do anything stupid, just like he used to comfort me. “Miranda, I’m on your side. Don’t do anything rash. I’m here. I can fix anything.” Miranda sobbed about her feelings, looking broken and pitiful. “Derek, I’m sorry. I really do have feelings for you. I can’t control them. But I’ve kept them buried inside.” “I feel so ashamed. Don’t stop me. I’m sorry for ruining your marriage. I just hope Clara stops being mad at you.” My parents scoffed. “A mistress doesn’t get to threaten suicide.” For the first time ever, Derek disrespected my parents. He shouted at them. “Stop talking! You want to drive her to kill herself?” Derek comforted Miranda, promising her anything. Miranda bit her lip, staying quiet, but looked fearfully at my parents. To make Miranda happy, Derek turned on my parents. He told his assistant to destroy my parents’ company immediately. They were in a vulnerable transition period. Their cash flow was heavily tied to Derek’s company. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I rushed forward to stop him. “That’s my parents’ life’s work! Derek, have some humanity! They treated you like their own son!” Derek pushed me aside without hesitation. “Clara, stay out of this. Nothing matters more than someone’s life. If the company fails, I can rebuild it. Besides, Miranda is my employee. I can’t be that heartless to my staff.” I grabbed his collar and slapped him. “Derek, don’t be so full of yourself. You know what this will do to my parents. I’m telling you—no. We’re getting divorced.” Derek hesitated. “Clara, that’s not what I meant.” Thomas and Patricia arrived and tried to intervene. “Derek, don’t do this. We’re all family. You can’t destroy these relationships.” Miranda took another step toward the ledge. The wind made her sway, like she might fall. Derek didn’t hesitate anymore. “I need to calm Miranda down first. I’ll handle the rest.” My parents’ company immediately ran out of operating funds. Bankruptcy. Richard couldn’t take it. Heart attack. Collapsed. Helen broke down crying, mourning all they’d sacrificed. “I can’t believe I let you marry such a bastard!” I scrambled to get them to the hospital. I bit my lip so hard it bled. I yanked off the jade bracelet Derek gave me and smashed it to pieces. Derek held Miranda’s hand and slowly led her away from the edge. Ignoring everyone watching, he pulled her into his arms, relief written all over his face. I stood there coldly watching. Then called my lawyer. “Modify the agreement. I want Derek to leave with nothing.”

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On Christmas Eve, my husband, a renowned chief surgeon, personally sealed away my son’s only chance at survival. My son, Leo, was bleeding internally and needed emergency surgery. Dr. James Vance, his father and a compatible RH-negative AB blood donor, was instead by the bedside of Serena, the woman he loved, simply because she had cut her finger. I stood outside in the snow, crying and pleading with him. “James, Leo really is your son. Please, just give him some blood!” He looked down at me coldly through the glass, not even glancing at the unconscious Leo. “Scarlett, I’ve seen the medical report. To extort money, you’d even fake that illegitimate child’s death?” Because he refused to believe me, Serena crushed Leo’s last dose of life-saving medication right before my eyes. I could only watch helplessly as my son stopped breathing in convulsive agony. Dr. James Vance, when you finally learn Leo was your biological son, will you regret it? Scarlett POV The night before Christmas Eve, fireworks burst outside my window while I coughed blood into my hands in the bathroom. My phone screen lit up, the top trending headline searing my eyes: “Dr. James Vance Rushes Across Town for Love, Protecting Serena Hayes’ Scratched Finger.” I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth, looked at my pale face in the mirror, and chuckled softly. “James, this is your last year with me.” In the empty mansion, a meticulously prepared holiday dinner slowly grew cold. The crystal chandelier cast a cold glow over the fine dinnerware. I had laid the table for three. One for me. One for James. And a small one for my secret-my son, Leo, hidden upstairs. This would be my last holiday after being diagnosed with advanced coagulation disorder. I wanted to leave my child and myself at least one warm memory. Even if that memory was a facade, painstakingly built with my last strength. A faint sound came from upstairs. I immediately suppressed all my emotions and hurried up. In the small room, Leo lay on the bed, his little face flushed with fever. “Mommy…” His voice was soft and weak, “Daddy… is he coming home today?” My heart twisted with agony. I leaned down and pressed my forehead against his. The scorching temperature made my heart race. “Yes, he will. Daddy will bring Leo a present after he’s done with work.” I whispered gently, feeding him the fever medicine. Leo was so good, he frowned his little face and swallowed the bitter medicine, his big, dark grape-like eyes full of anticipation. Just then, the front door opened downstairs. My heart lifted with a surge of hope, and I rushed down. James was back. He brought with him a biting coldness, and a strange perfume scent that didn’t belong in our home. It was Serena’s scent. I knew he only married me because he’d saved my life from a fire five years ago. That act of kindness, repeatedly emphasized by his mother, gradually became proof of my “scheming.” Since then, his gaze held nothing but scrutiny and disgust for me. I dared not let him know about Leo’s existence, fearing that for Serena’s rare genetic bone marrow disease, he would treat his own flesh and blood as a cruel “living donor.”

Scarlett POV “I’m just here to grab something.” James’s voice was as cold as his demeanor, utterly devoid of warmth. He didn’t even glance at the dinner on the table. “Serena cut her hand, I’m going to take care of it. I won’t be eating at home tonight.” His tone was flat, as if he were talking about something completely unrelated to him. But I knew, anything about Serena was always related to him. “Can’t you stay?” I instinctively grabbed his sleeve, a hint of desperation in my voice that even I hadn’t realized was there. “I… I don’t feel well.” His gaze finally landed on my face. There was no concern in his eyes, only scrutiny, impatience, and the disgust for my “greed and scheming” that his mother had repeatedly instilled in him. He mercilessly shook off my hand. “Scarlett, stop pretending to be sick for attention.” His words cut like an icy blade straight through my heart. “I saw your medical report last week. You are perfectly healthy. You could even donate blood.” James pulled a black card from his wallet and casually tossed it on the floor. The metal card clattered against the marble, a harsh, grating sound. “If you want money, just say so. Don’t use your body as an excuse.” With that, he turned and left, without a single backward glance. I stood frozen, watching the familiar taillights of his car disappear into the night, a bitter ache in my chest. I once thought that saving my life would at least earn me a shred of warmth. Now I understood, that was merely my delusion. My phone screen automatically lit up, a new entertainment notification popping up. The photo showed James carefully cradling Serena’s finger, his brow slightly furrowed, his expression focused and tender. The caption read: “Christmas Eve Romance! Dr. James Vance Bandages His Lover’s Wound, He’s So In Love With Her!” My heart clenched painfully. For me, it was coldness and humiliation. For Serena, it was devoted affection, held in the palm of his hand. “Mommy.” A soft, childish voice came from behind me. Leo had somehow stumbled downstairs. He saw my tears, and his little brow immediately furrowed. He pulled a slightly melted candy from his pajama pocket. He stood on tiptoes, trying to push the candy into my mouth. “Don’t cry, Mommy. Leo brought you a present.” The child’s innocence was like an even sharper knife, cutting my heart to shreds. A sudden, metallic taste surged up my throat. My vision blurred, nosebleed began to flow uncontrollably, and my body went limp, collapsing directly to the floor. In the last moment before losing consciousness, I heard Leo’s terrified scream. If I were to die like this, perhaps it would be a release. James, I’m free. But what about you?

Scarlett POV Cold. An icy, piercing chill radiated from the marble floor, threatening to freeze my blood. I didn’t know how long I’d been unconscious. I only knew that when I woke, the mansion was still empty. Only a dark red stain of dried blood on the floor reminded me of what had just happened. Leo had cried himself to sleep beside me, his little flushed face still streaked with tears. I propped up my weak body, carried the child to bed, and put a fever patch on him. Then I took out a syringe and a hemostatic agent from the medicine cabinet, skillfully found my vein, and inserted the needle. Long illness makes one a doctor. Someone unloved like me, for the sake of my child, could only desperately cling to life. Just as I pulled out the needle and pressed a cotton swab to the injection site, the mansion door was unlocked and pushed open. James was back. But he wasn’t alone. Behind him, Serena walked in, smiling innocently. “Scarlett, I’m so sorry.” Serena intimately hooked her arm through James’s, her posture very much like the lady of the house. “My house’s wiring suddenly broke, and I couldn’t find anyone to fix it on Christmas Eve. James was worried about me being alone in the dark, so he suggested I stay here for the night. You don’t mind, do you?” I wasn’t an idiot. She said “stay” but the triumph and provocation in her eyes were almost overflowing. Before I could speak, James commanded me, “You’ll sleep in the guest room tonight.” He pointed towards the master bedroom and told Serena, “Serena, you take the master bedroom. It gets good light, and you’re afraid of the dark.” How ironic. This was James and my marital home, and now, for another woman, he was openly kicking me out of our master bedroom. Just then, a small figure appeared at the top of the stairs. Leo had been woken up. He rubbed his eyes as he walked down. Seeing James, his eyes lit up, and he timidly called out, “Daddy…” James’s face instantly darkened. He frowned in disgust, looking at Leo as if he were trash. “Where did this bastard come from? He’s so loud.” The word “bastard” felt like three red-hot needles, stabbing straight into my eardrums. That was his biological son! His own flesh and blood, sharing his blood! I rushed over in a panic, shielding Leo tightly behind me, my heart pounding. “He…he’s a relative’s child. No one was home, so I’m watching him for a few days.” I couldn’t let him know Leo’s identity. Absolutely not. I knew James had been looking for a special bone marrow for Serena’s “genetic optimization therapy” to eradicate her genetic disease. And Leo’s various indicators perfectly matched Serena’s. If James knew, he would undoubtedly snatch the child away, using Leo as Serena’s “living donor”! Serena scrutinized Leo with interest, then suddenly walked forward, bent down, and put on a fake smile. “Oh, what a cute little boy.” I watched as she used her long nails to viciously pinch Leo’s arm. Before I could intervene, Leo, caught completely off guard, burst into tears from the sharp pain. Serena immediately straightened up, a hand pressed to her chest in feigned surprise. “What a temper this child has! I only wanted to touch him..” James’s patience completely ran out. He looked at me coldly, scolding sharply, “Control your child! Make him shut up! Otherwise, I’ll throw him out of here!” I could only frantically cover Leo’s mouth, carrying him back to his room upstairs. When I came back downstairs, I witnessed a scene that made my blood run cold. The small white pill bottle I’d left on the coffee table – a special, life-saving medicine for Leo that I’d pulled countless strings to get from abroad. Now, it was in the mouth of Serena’s poodle, Prince, being chewed like a toy. The bottle was bitten open, white pills scattered everywhere. The dog extended its tongue, licking them with relish. Serena giggled beside it, even taking out her phone to snap photos. “These calcium tablets taste good, don’t they? Look how much our dog loves them.” Calcium tablets? That was Leo’s life! “Don’t touch it!” I rushed over like a madwoman, trying to snatch the pills from the dog’s mouth. But James shoved me away. My lower back hit the sharp corner of the coffee table with a heavy thud, the sharp pain instantly making me double over, cold sweat breaking out. James looked down at me, his eyes full of contempt. “It’s just a bottle of calcium tablets, is that really necessary?” “I’ll have someone buy you a whole box tomorrow.” A whole box? He didn’t know this medicine was globally limited, priceless. He didn’t know his own son could die without it at any moment. He knew nothing. He only knew Serena had cut her finger, and Serena’s dog needed “calcium tablets.” And my child, his own child, was less to him than that dog.

Scarlett POV Ignoring the pain, I held a feverish Leo and hid in the cold storage room, wiping his body repeatedly with alcohol swabs, trying to cool him down with basic physical methods. The medicine was gone; this was all I could do. “Mommy…” Leo murmured in his sleep, his little hand clutching my shirt, “Am I… going to die?” A scalding tear fell onto the child’s equally scorching forehead. My heart shattered beyond repair. Just then, my phone rang. It was Mr. Davies, the Vance family’s housekeeper. James had sent someone to rush me to the Vance family’s grand estate for their Christmas gala. On the phone, Mr. Davies’ voice was cold, devoid of emotion. “Mr. Vance instructed that you must wear heavy makeup to cover your illness. Don’t look like you’re half-dead at the gala; it’s bad luck.” Bad luck. In front of his family, I wasn’t even allowed to show a hint of weakness or illness. I was merely a decoration, expected to be perpetually poised and radiant, to adorn the Vance family’s facade. I glanced down at Leo, who was breathing faintly in my arms, and had no choice. I had to go. Only by going could I receive the annual cash gift the Vance family gave to their wives. It was a considerable sum. With that money, I could buy medicine for Leo through underground channels. I hardened my heart, entrusted Leo to a trusted part-time nanny, and went to the gala alone. The Vance estate was brightly lit, filled with guests, clinking glasses, and laughter. Everyone wore polite smiles, exchanging insincere well wishes. I felt like a puppet, numbly following James, enduring countless gazes that scrutinized and evaluated me. Halfway through the gala, James, in front of everyone, took out a velvet box. He personally opened it, revealing a dazzling set of ruby jewelry. He didn’t look at me. Instead, he walked straight to Serena, who was seated nearby. He personally fastened the necklace around her neck. “This set of jewelry suits you perfectly.” Immediately, a chorus of envious praises erupted. “Mr. Vance truly holds a candle for Ms. Hayes. All these years, she’s still the only one in his heart.” “Yeah, the official Mrs. Vance looks pretty terrible right now.” The voices were not loud, but clear enough to pierce my ears. I stood there, like a clown publicly executed, enduring everyone’s mockery and pity. But the pain in my heart had long gone numb. Finally, it was time for the cash gifts to the younger generation. James walked up to me, a formal smile on his face, and slipped a thin envelope into my hand. The envelope was so light it felt weightless. My fingers trembled uncontrollably. I retreated to an empty corner and opened the envelope. There was no check, no bank card. Only a few crumpled bills and a pamphlet for birth control pills. That piece of paper felt like a resounding slap, hitting me hard across the face. Utter humiliation. He was using this method to tell me: He saved my life years ago, and I “schemed” my way into the Vance family. Now, everything he did was merely repaying the kindness I had “exploited.” He didn’t even want me to “scheme” for another child. He didn’t know. Three years ago, I had already given birth to his son. “Scarlett, don’t complain it’s too little.” Serena had approached me without me noticing, waving a high-value check, her smile bold and triumphant. “James is doing this for your own good, afraid you’ll waste money. After all, people like us who can help his career are simply worth more than those who are just kept at home.” Every word was a stab to the heart. Just then, my phone vibrated violently. It was the nanny calling. Her voice was choked with tears, almost frantic. “Ms. Reid! It’s terrible! Leo… he’s coughing up blood and has collapsed!” BOOM. My mind went instantly blank. I cared about nothing else; I turned and ran out. “Stop!” James grabbed my wrist, his eyes icy. “What game are you playing now? In this kind of setting, who are you performing for?” In his eyes, I was always just trying to get attention. “Let go of me!” My voice was shrill, completely off-key. “Leo is in trouble!” “How many times are you going to pull this stunt?” His face was full of mockery and disbelief. Guests around us looked over, whispering and pointing. I looked at his cold face, all explanations stuck in my throat. I knew. He wouldn’t believe me. The next second, I did something that shocked everyone. My legs gave out, and I fell to my knees in front of him, in full view of everyone. The cold, hard floor dug painfully into my knees. I didn’t care about anything else. I bowed my head towards him, slamming my forehead hard against the ground. The sound of my forehead hitting the floor was dull and desperate. “Please, let me go.” My voice was hoarse, tinged with blood. “After this…I’ll do anything you ask.” My dignity. My pride. In that moment, I ground them to dust with my own hands. I wanted nothing. I only wanted my Leo to live.

Scarlett POV I don’t know how I stumbled out of the Vance family’s estate. I sped through countless intersections, driving my car like a trapped beast trying to break free from its cage, rushing to the hospital. The emergency room lights were stark and blinding. Leo’s tiny body lay on the hospital bed, hooked up to various tubes, the cardiac monitor beeping faintly and rapidly. “Oh, God…” I knelt on the cold floor, hands clasped, praying to whatever divine power might be listening. “Please, please don’t take him away… take my life instead, I beg you…” The ER doctor walked over with the test results, his expression grave. “The patient’s condition is critical. He’s lost too much blood and needs an immediate transfusion. But he has an extremely rare RH-negative AB blood type. Our hospital’s blood bank is completely depleted, and neighboring blood banks are also running low.” Running low. Those two words hit me like a sledgehammer, shattering my last shred of hope. The doctor hesitated, then added, “To my knowledge, the only place in the entire city that might have this blood type in reserve is Dr. Vance’s private blood bank. He keeps it for special situations.” James. Again, James. Fate, like a wicked joke, pinned me down and crushed me repeatedly. I trembling took out my phone, dialing the number I knew by heart, over and over. “Sorry, the subscriber you dialed is busy, please try again later…” “Sorry, the subscriber you dialed is busy…” The cold, robotic voice pushed me deeper into the abyss, time and time again. I didn’t give up. Over a dozen times. Dozens of times. Finally, the call connected. But the voice on the other end was a soft, feminine one. It was Serena. “Hello? Oh, it’s you? James’s in the shower, so he can’t answer right now. Is something wrong? You can tell me, I’ll pass it on.” Her deliberately intimate tone was like a poisoned knife, dealing another cruel blow to my already bleeding heart. I hung up directly and rushed out of the hospital. Guided by memory, I sped to James’s usual private club. I kicked open the VIP lounge door. The room was softly lit. James, wearing a bathrobe, his hair still dripping wet, was holding a brochure, quietly explaining something to Serena. Serena leaned against him, pointing at pictures in the brochure, laughing easily and happily. They were choosing beauty treatments. How utterly ironic. My son was teetering between life and death at the hospital. And here he was, with another woman, discussing how to make herself more perfect. “James!” My voice was hoarse, almost unrecognizable. “The hospital! Leo is dying at the hospital! He needs a blood transfusion! I’m begging you, release the blood from your private blood bank for him!” I rushed to grab him, but I was blocked by the people beside him. James slowly looked up at me. His eyes were cold and distant, as if he were looking at an unreasonable lunatic. “For that child?” After hearing my words, his tone was flat, even tinged with cold mockery. He stood up, slowly adjusting the lapel of his bathrobe. “Unfortunately, that batch of blood is already earmarked.” “Serena is having a laser scar removal surgery tomorrow; we need to have blood ready to ensure everything goes perfectly.” I couldn’t believe my ears. “Scar removal? She’s just having scar removal! My child will die! That’s a human life!” A clear look of impatience finally appeared on his face. He walked up to me, looking down at me. His voice was as cold as a lifeless winter wind. “The scar on her arm was from saving me years ago.” “In my world, any surgery for her is the highest priority, with no risks allowed.” He paused for a moment, then, with an eerily calm tone, spoke the most cruel words. “As for that child’s life or death, it has nothing to do with me.” Nothing to do with me… My mind went blank with a loud ringing sound. I broke free and lunged at him like a madwoman, trying to snatch the access card for the blood bank from his pocket. But he easily dodged me. I was once again pinned firmly to the cold floor. “Stop acting crazy.” He spat out those three cold words, his tone filled with disgust. I lay on the floor, looking at his hands. Looking at his familiar yet alien face. Suddenly, I laughed. Laughed until tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. I looked up, my vision filled with a deadly silence. “James.” I spoke each word distinctly. “You will regret this.” “You will definitely regret this.” “Until the end of your life, you will regret everything you’ve done today, to the point of unbearable pain.”

Scarlett POV At the end of despair, there is madness. I was thrown out of the club by bodyguards, like a piece of trash carelessly discarded. I picked myself up from the muddy ground, neither crying nor looking for James again. I hid in an empty public restroom stall, pulling out an old-looking, but military-grade encrypted phone from my inner pocket. This was my past, buried for five years. My identity as “Nyx,” a top medical investor within the covert network. I pressed the power button. The screen lit up, revealing a blood-red phoenix emblem. I dialed the number I hadn’t called in five years. The call was answered almost instantly. “Boss.” “It’s me.” I spoke. “Activate S-class clearance. I need the freshest RH-negative AB blood, airlifted to Central Hospital in half an hour, no matter the cost.” “Boss! Once S-class clearance is activated, your location will be forcefully exposed! The people who hunted you down years ago will come looking!” “I know.” My gaze passed over the stall door, looking towards the hospital. “For Leo, I have to take this gamble.” Half an hour later. A black specialized medical helicopter, ignoring city no-fly zone regulations, landed on the roof helipad of Central Hospital with a tremendous roar. A silver combination lock box was swiftly rushed to the emergency room. The moment the blood plasma entered Leo’s body, the nearly flatlining line on the monitor finally began to fluctuate. Leo was temporarily out of danger. I sat by the bedside, holding the child’s cold little hand, looking at his peaceful sleeping face. The tension that had held me for hours finally broke, and tears silently streamed down my face. Just then, the hospital room door was violently pushed open. James appeared in the doorway. His gaze fell on the blood bag above the bed, then swept to the still dissipating propeller wash outside the window. “How did you manage to mobilize a military-grade helicopter to deliver blood?” He walked in, approaching me step by step. “Who exactly are you?” I quickly wiped away my tears, forcing a smile. “I sold a kidney.” I said it lightly. He paused for a moment. Then he sneered. “For an illegitimate child, you truly will do anything.” I was long numb to such words. He didn’t press further about the blood’s origin. Today, he was here for something else. “Serena’s surgery plan has changed. It requires highly active cell tissue as a culture medium.” “Your bone marrow, it’s a match.” I understood. Serena again. Again, something to be taken from me to fill her needs. “Tomorrow morning, come with me to the operating room for a bone marrow biopsy.” His tone was a command. “I refuse.” I didn’t hesitate. James sneered, his gaze falling on Leo in the hospital bed. “Have you forgotten, this hospital is a Vance family property.” “With a single word from me, I can have that illegitimate child, along with all this equipment, cleared out.” He always used this trick. Using my son’s life to force me to yield. My body trembled uncontrollably. Looking at his familiar yet alien face, the last shred of anything I held inside me completely extinguished. For Leo to continue receiving treatment here, I had no other choice. “Fine. I agree.” Let this be the last time. To repay the debt from when he pulled me from the fire years ago. From now on, we would owe each other nothing. Our lives would run separate courses. James turned and left. He didn’t see the thin surgical blade I had hidden in my sleeve, already clenched in my hand the moment I agreed. Nor did he notice the black sniper scope fixed on the roof across from the hospital, aimed directly at this window. A shadow flickered past outside. My enemies had found me.

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My boyfriend is stunningly handsome, successful, and rich. After three years together, I decided it was finally time to bring him home for the holidays to meet my parents. But the moment I posted a photo of Liam and me in our family group chat, it exploded! “Chloe, I get that you might be desperate, but you can’t just date anyone who’s breathing!” “Are you trying to skip those blind dates by bringing home some random guy just to upset Mom?” I stared blankly at Liam beside me. He’s over six feet tall, with chiseled abs, wearing a custom Armani suit. But the next second, Dad sent back the photo I’d just posted with a message. “Chloe, are you blind? You picked such a short, ugly loser for a boyfriend?” I looked at the man in the photo. He looked old, balding, with a beer belly, and barely five feet tall. He was wearing shabby clothes and holding me in a creepy way. But the photo wasn’t AI-generated, and there were no signs of editing. I looked up at Liam again, still standing there like a Greek statue. I kept asking people around me, but everyone described Liam as short, poor, and ugly. I could not handle the shock. I slowly began to lose my mind. Eventually, I was sent to a mental hospital and accidentally killed by another patient. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment I was about to introduce my boyfriend publicly.

My parents always played favorites with my sister Lily, and I suspected they wanted me to ditch Liam for her. This time, I didn’t send a photo of us together to the family group. Instead, I sent only Liam’s picture and told a little lie. “This is my best friend Ashley’s new boyfriend. What do you guys think of him?” But to my shock, their replies were exactly the same. “How could Ashley date such a loser? Is she going through something lately?” “Chloe, as her best friend, you need to talk some sense into her. Don’t let her just date anyone.” “Chloe, you need to tell Ashley to break up with him! He’s clearly punching above his weight!” I was stunned. If last time they were just messing with me because they knew Liam was my boyfriend… This time, they had no reason to trick me about Ashley. Just as I was lost in thought, Mom’s message popped up. “Didn’t you say you found a boyfriend? The holidays are coming. Bring him home.” Dad chimed in. “Exactly! It’s time our family of four became five. You’re not getting any younger, after all.” “Chloe, when are you bringing Liam home? Don’t you dare end up like Ashley.” My hand, holding the phone, started sweating cold. I couldn’t imagine the expressions on their faces if I actually brought Liam home. Liam’s tall frame enveloped me from behind as he buried his face in the crook of my neck, his tone a playful pout. “Chloe, what did your family say? Are you taking me home to meet your parents for the holidays?” I looked at his handsome profile, sunlight shining on him like he was an angel descended from heaven. How could he possibly be the short, poor, and ugly guy my family was describing? That height difference… that chiseled, sculptural face… the luxurious fabric of his clothes… Every detail reminded me that Liam was the living definition of a ‘dream guy.’ This time, I was cautious and didn’t agree right away. “Of course, I’ll take you to meet my parents. But before that, can you do me a small favor?” He chuckled softly and kissed my forehead. “Anything, baby. You name it.” An idea sparked in my mind. “Liam, would you mind taking a few photos with Ashley at the park later?” Liam’s face instantly fell, looking hurt. “Chloe, are you trying to set your man up with someone else?” I quickly reassured him, lying that I’d lost a dare, and it was just a request from Ashley. “Just three photos in the park, then you’re free to go. No touching or anything.” Liam looked at my pleading face and finally softened. “Just this once.” I sighed in relief and called Ashley. “Ashley, are you free? I just need you to take three photos with my boyfriend at the park.” But I didn’t expect her to refuse so vehemently. “Are you serious? You want me to take pictures with your short, ugly loser boyfriend? You’d be better off killing me!” It was one thing for my family to fool me, but why was Ashley saying the same thing? Ashley had seen Liam many times before. Why was she suddenly calling him short, poor, and ugly now? “Chloe, I wanted to tell you to break up three years ago. But you were so deeply in love, I was afraid you’d do something stupid, so I kept quiet.” “You’re such a love-struck fool. How can you treat that kind of trash like a treasure? The smell of him makes me want to puke, how have you endured it for three years?” My heart leaped. Could it really be that love was blind for me? Even what she called his ‘old man smell’ seemed like a pleasant fragrance to me, actually quite nice…

I still didn’t believe it. I took a deep breath and decided to bribe Ashley. “If you agree this time, I’ll get you the new LV bag that just came out.” “Deal. But don’t ask me again.” After Ashley hung up, the more I thought about it, the more absurd it seemed. Even with a beauty filter, the difference couldn’t be this drastic. Three days later, the photos Ashley sent me shattered my illusions. The man in the photo was the exact same one my dad had sent me in the previous life, the one I was supposedly hugging. I looked at the photos on my phone – they were perfectly natural, no signs of alteration. Just then, Liam came home. I rushed to him. “Liam, did you keep any of the photos from today?” “Of course, I did. Wouldn’t want you nagging me about it.” He handed me his phone. In his photos, he and Ashley stood together, looking like absolute gods. How could this be… Where did it go wrong? I took his phone to the balcony, comparing the two sets of photos repeatedly. Same park, same time, same poses, only the people were different. The other two photos were the same. Liam came to the balcony, wrapped his arms around me, and complained playfully. “Baby, I did what you asked, why do you still look upset?” His scent was still so fresh and clean, like orange soda, utterly captivating. But the thought that the man holding me now could be that man in the photos made my skin crawl. “No… no way. I… I was just jealous, that’s why I looked upset.” Liam instantly perked up at my words. “Then since I completed your mission, you have to give me a kiss.” I looked at his angelic face, about to lean in, but the image of the man in the photos instantly killed my appetite. I gently pushed him away, giving a nervous, guilty smile. “A kiss? That’s nothing! I’ll cook you dinner tonight as a reward.” Liam didn’t notice my odd behavior. He just kissed my cheek and said, “Okay!” I went to the kitchen and sent the photo to the family SnapChat group, along with a message. “Is the man you saw last time the same one in this photo?” Replies quickly poured in. “Why hasn’t Ashley broken up with that guy yet? They’re completely mismatched! Ashley is 5’5″, even in heels, she’d be taller than him!” “Chloe, has your best friend been brainwashed by this man? What does he even have going for him?” “Chloe, look at his clothes, they smell like an old man’s. He’s probably wearing his dad’s hand-me-downs!” As if I wouldn’t believe them, Dad sent a separate photo of the man into the group. “See? This is the same guy you posted in the group last time, isn’t it?” I carefully examined the single photo – still the same time, same background, same pose, but a different person. Why were the photos I took so different from what they saw? Liam, who hadn’t seen me come out yet, knocked on the kitchen door. “Chloe, why are you zoning out in the kitchen? How about I cook instead?” “No, no, it’ll be ready in a minute. Just wait at the dining table.” I quickly finished two dishes and carried them out. But as Liam sat down, I glimpsed the butterfly birthmark on his neck. It was Liam’s unique mark. I immediately pulled out Ashley’s photos and the family group photos to compare. My jaw dropped. The birthmark on that man’s neck in the photos was identical to Liam’s…

I picked at my food, my mind a mess. Looking at Liam beside me, I cautiously spoke. “Liam… there’s something I need to ask, but please don’t get angry.” Liam turned to me, smiling gently. “Okay, I won’t be angry, no matter what you ask.” “Has anyone ever told you what you look like?” He was silent for a moment. My heart sank. Had I accidentally brought up a sore spot? Did everyone think he was ugly? The next moment, he chuckled, taking my hand and guiding it to his face. “Everyone has always told me I’m handsome since I was a kid. I was voted Campus King every single year since junior high.” He seemed to worry I wouldn’t believe him, so he pulled out his phone to show me pictures from his college days. For four whole years, Liam’s photos were displayed on the ‘Hottest Guys’ wall, and he consistently ranked number one by a landslide. Seeing my bewildered expression, Liam flicked my forehead playfully. “What? Can’t stand that your boyfriend is just naturally this gorgeous?” “I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours. You didn’t doubt me when we first started dating, but now that we’re about to meet your parents, you’re getting suspicious? Are you looking for an excuse to break up with me?” Liam feigned a serious look, and I could only push my doubts down. During dinner, I was distracted, constantly glancing at Liam, trying to find anything unusual. But I came up empty-handed. It wasn’t until we were in bed that my mind started racing again. Watching Liam sleep beside me, an idea formed. If love was blind, how did that explain the height difference? Why did everyone else see him as barely five feet tall, while I saw him as over six feet? I carefully slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Liam. I walked to the entrance and checked all of Liam’s shoes – no insoles. Still not satisfied, I pulled a tape measure from the drawer and crept back onto the bed to measure his height. If six feet was just my visual perception, a tape measure would be accurate, right? But Liam kept turning over precisely when I was trying to measure him, preventing me from succeeding. I retracted the tape measure and then stared at his stomach. The man in the photos had a beer belly, but Liam had eight-pack abs. Were his abs fake? Was he wearing something under his shirt? I’d seen videos about guys faking abs, and my hand slowly reached towards his stomach. Just as I was about to confirm, he caught my hand. Liam opened his eyes, a playful smirk on his face. “Honey, are you feeling a little restless tonight? Looking for some action?” Cold sweat instantly dripped down my back. Thankfully, he didn’t notice I’d been trying to measure his height. “No, I was just worried your stomach might get cold… It’s late, let’s just go to sleep.” I quickly lay back down, pretending to be asleep. But Liam rolled onto me, his warm lips claiming mine. “Baby, you’ve definitely stirred something up, and it’s not going away easily.” I didn’t find out anything all night, but Liam definitely wore me out. What a waste of an investigation! The next morning, Liam looked utterly satisfied as he gazed at me, still sprawled exhaustedly on the bed. “Baby, when are you going to take me to meet your parents?” “You’re so adorable, I’m almost tempted to just lock you up and keep you all to myself.” Liam’s reminder made me quickly pull out my phone. The date I’d promised to bring Liam home was tomorrow.

I thought about how good Liam had been to me for three years-gentle, meticulous, attentive, and generous. Even if he was short and clumsy, I’d accept it. But he couldn’t be poor… And in these three years, he had spent at least a million on me. That couldn’t be fake. “Tomorrow, then. Happy?” Liam’s eyes sparkled with joy, and he kissed me. “Why didn’t you say so sooner? Now I don’t have time to prepare gifts for your parents.” “Chloe, don’t sleep in. Get up quickly and take me to pick out their gifts.” I gave him an unamused look, not bothering to point out who had worn me out so badly last night. Liam pretended not to notice, pulling out a custom-tailored suit from his closet and looking at me. “Chloe, can I wear this to meet your parents tomorrow?” I felt a pang of déjà vu. Last time, my parents had looked at him with disgust and disdain when he wore this. They’d almost physically attacked him. But to me, Liam was a walking clothes hanger; everything looked good on him. Especially this custom suit, which perfectly showcased his flawless physique. After getting everything ready, Liam called to reserve the entire luxury mall and drove me there in his Maybach. The sales associate at the jewelry store bowed respectfully to Liam. “Sir, how may I help you?” “I need nearly a hundred pounds of gold bars, and please pick out the most exquisite gold rings and earrings for my parents.” The sales associate’s face lit up with an irrepressible smile. I couldn’t help but look at him. “This is so expensive, won’t it be too much?” “They’re my future in-laws, how can it be too much? What’s mine is yours, honey.” Liam also picked out a Patek Philippe watch for my dad and bought Lily the entire new collection from LV. I figured he couldn’t possibly be poor. I took photos of all the gifts he bought and sent them to Ashley. But I received a skeptical reply from her. “Chloe, be careful! This could be a romance scam! A lot of guys who look respectable on the surface lure you in by taking out huge loans, then stick you with massive debt, claiming it was all for you.” “These guys work with shady loan agencies, earning huge interest fees.” I didn’t believe her. I sent her photos of Liam’s luxury car and mansion. “Those can all be rented! Don’t be so naive and believe everything.” My cheerful mood instantly died down. The next day, I brought Liam home with a mix of excitement and anxiety. My family’s expressions shifted from blatant shock and disdain to forced, strained smiles. Dad accepted Liam’s gifts. “So this is Chloe’s boyfriend? You shouldn’t have bought so much and gone to all this trouble. Come, sit down and eat.” Mom, meanwhile, dragged me aside. “So, all this time, the ‘best friend’s boyfriend’ you mentioned was actually yours? Were you too embarrassed to admit it?” Lily even went so far as to dramatically cover her nose, staying as far from Liam as if he were a monster. Dinner passed in stiff silence. It wasn’t until Liam and I were on our way out that I caught the three of them flashing a synchronized “V” sign behind our backs. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but I hadn’t expected the group chat to explode the moment we got home. “Chloe, look at what he brought! Fake gold bars, a knock-off watch, a replica bag! Is he trying to make fools of us? All of it put together isn’t even worth a thousand! How can he be so shameless?” “Your dad and I are telling you right now: if you don’t break up with him, we’re cutting you off.” “Chloe, you can’t imagine how bad he smelled at dinner. It made me want to vomit.” But I just scoffed, nestling into Liam’s arms, and sent a reply. “Cut the act. I know exactly why you’re all calling Liam some short, penniless nobody!”

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It was three years after our breakup when Julian Kingston and I unexpectedly crossed paths again at a luxury hotel. I was working the front desk. He checked into the presidential suite, accompanied by a young and sexy woman. That night, I received three internal calls from his room. The first time, he said, “My girlfriend got the sheets dirty. Send someone to change them.” I called housekeeping to handle it. Two hours later, he called again, demanding another sheet change. I followed procedure. At 2 AM, his third call came through. Before he could even speak, I politely refused. “I apologize, sir, but housekeeping has already clocked out for the night.” The man chuckled lightly, his tone nonchalant. “Then you come change them.” I ignored him and hung up. My job is front desk. It’s not my responsibility to clean rooms. My colleague, Chloe, leaned over, asking conspiratorially. “Was that the guest from the presidential suite again?” When I nodded, Chloe covered her mouth, stifling a giggle. “He must be incredible in bed, making them change sheets three times in one night!” “So, what did he say when you told him housekeeping was off?” I told her honestly. “He told me to go up and change them.” Chloe froze, then scoffed, laughing derisively. “Just because he’s in the presidential suite, he thinks he can treat people like dirt? So disrespectful.” “He acts like the hotel is his personal home! He thinks we front desk staff are 24/7 personal servants…” Before she could finish, the phone in front of her rang abruptly. She cleared her throat and answered it. The next second, she respectfully addressed the manager. I couldn’t hear what was said on the other end. Chloe’s eyes suddenly widened, and she looked at me. “Did you say to send Aubrey Reid to the presidential suite to change the sheets right now?” Fifteen minutes later, I stood outside the presidential suite, grimacing as I pressed the doorbell. Julian, wearing nothing but a bath robe, answered the door. He had an incredible physique, ripped abs, and water still trickled down his collarbone. Seeing me, he stepped aside to let me in. The hem of his robe swayed with his movement, almost revealing too much. The faint sound of rushing water came from the bathroom. He led me to the bedroom. Then he casually sat down on a nearby sofa. With an air of calm, he took out a cigarette, put it in his mouth, and lit it. I silently pulled back the duvet. The wet stain on the sheets unexpectedly caught my eye. It felt like I’d been punched in the chest. My heart ached dully. He exhaled a smoke ring, his voice laced with the languid contentment of a man utterly satisfied. “My girlfriend gets so wet every time; the sheets are completely soaked. There’s no way we can sleep on them without changing them.” “Please hurry. She’s a bit tired.” I tried to keep my voice steady. “Five minutes.” I efficiently stripped the dirty sheets and quickly put on fresh ones. Once I was done, I gathered the soiled sheets and turned to leave. But then, he suddenly closed in, pressing me tightly against the edge of the bed, leaving me nowhere to go. He leaned in further, and I stumbled backward, falling onto the bed. The next second, he had me firmly pinned beneath him. His powerful forearms braced on either side of my head, and his knee pushed my legs apart, pinning them so I couldn’t even close them. His bath robe had completely parted, his ripped abs pressing taut against my lower stomach, the scorching heat of his skin radiating through the thin fabric. The water in the bathroom still hadn’t stopped. I clenched my fists, trying to push off the bed to stand up. But the power imbalance was too great; I couldn’t move him an inch. I frowned, pushing against his chest, my voice a low whisper. “Your girlfriend will get the wrong idea, let me up.” His eyes turned cold. He suddenly grabbed my resisting wrists, twisting them behind my head. His other hand slowly slid under my top, his calloused thumb tracing a path along my waistline, sending shivers through me. “All these years, I still don’t understand.” “Why, of all people, did you cheat on me with him?”

The sound of water in the bathroom abruptly stopped. But he remained utterly unmoved. In a panic, I bit down hard on his arm. He grunted, wincing, and his grip loosened slightly. I took the chance to push him away, clutching the sheets as I fled the room. As the door closed, the woman’s soft, languid voice faintly drifted out. “Oh, stop it. If you make them change the sheets again, I’ll be too embarrassed to show my face tomorrow.” I couldn’t quite make out his answer. Walking down the silent corridor, my wildly pounding heart slowly began to calm. It wasn’t that I hadn’t imagined what it would be like to see him again someday. But I never expected that after three years, he would hate me this much. Better if we’d never met again in this lifetime. Back at the front desk, Chloe leaned over to gossip with me. “Do you know who that guest in the presidential suite is?” It was late, and I was tired; I didn’t feel like engaging. But she grew more excited. “I just looked him up online! He’s actually the heir to the incredibly wealthy Kingston family in New York!” I said flatly, “Snooping on guest information, that’s against the rules.” “I was just curious!” She continued to share. “Everyone online is still talking about their billion-dollar inheritance battle from three years ago!” “This Mr. Kingston suddenly fell gravely ill at a critical moment and almost lost his inheritance rights.” “And his first love, seeing him so ill, actually cheated on him at his lowest point.” “Oh, I haven’t even told you the craziest part yet. Do you know who she cheated on him with?” Chloe’s chatter buzzed in my ears. “Yeah, I know.” She raised her voice slightly. “You know? You saw the news too?” I slowly turned my head, calmly looking at her astonished expression. “I don’t need to see the news.” “I was his cheating ex-girlfriend.” The expression on her face instantly froze, and it took her a long moment to process. “OMG.” Meeting Julian was an unusual accident in my life. I saw something wrong and kicked a pervert right in the groin. I dragged the pervert to the police station, and Julian followed me the whole way, thoroughly amused. He waited outside the precinct for me, then got my contact info. And that’s how we started. The day he confessed his feelings to me. I asked him why he liked me. He just smiled without speaking, then after a moment, he took my hand and said, “I was captivated by the way you kicked that guy in the groin.” Fine, sometimes I didn’t understand his taste. But I liked him just the same.

He always loved to tease me. We were together for a long time. He bought an apartment near campus. We lived the loving life of an ordinary couple. My parents divorced when I was young, so I grew up living with my grandmother. Once, while I was on a FaceTime call with her, he overheard her mention that her teeth were falling out and it was getting hard to eat. The very next day, he took my grandma to have a full set of new teeth fitted. Later, I brought up the cost awkwardly. A full set of teeth was over $200,000. He signed the bill without a second thought, but I had no idea how I could ever repay him. He saw through my hesitant expression. “Don’t worry about the cost. I’ll take care of it.” I cautiously said to him, “What if we break up later? You wouldn’t ask for the money back for her teeth if we broke up, right?” He burst out laughing. Back then, I only knew he was rich, but not how rich. It wasn’t until I muttered to him one day about my scholarship not being disbursed yet. Coincidentally, from that day onward, the Kingston Group scholarship process at school was streamlined and began to be announced and disbursed on the same day. That is how I learned he was a son of New York’s Kingstons. Later, his father died. The Kingston family’s inheritance battle was a sensation. Besides Julian, his father had several illegitimate children scattered around. At the peak of the inheritance dispute, Julian was suddenly hospitalized. The diagnosis was acute kidney failure. He stayed in the ICU for over ten days. After two rounds of dialysis, his kidney function still hadn’t recovered. The doctors, with no other options, suggested a kidney transplant. But we waited and waited, but no suitable donor could be found. I even went to each of his half-siblings, begging. But not a single one was willing to be tested for a match. And who would agree to be a match? Without Julian, they’d get a bigger piece of the pie. They were practically praying for him to die; why would they step in to save him? During that time, I felt lost in a fog, unable to find a way out. Julian seemed to have a premonition. He had his lawyer transfer all his assets to me. He lay in the hospital bed, his pale hand gently stroking my face. Patiently, he wiped away my endless tears. He said meeting me in this lifetime meant he had no regrets. But to everyone’s utter shock… No sooner had I accepted his gift than I threw myself into another man’s arms. I chose not to stay with Julian through his final days. I betrayed Julian, eagerly pledging allegiance to another. And that man was his father’s most favored illegitimate son.

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The year my daughter needed me most, I left her at a foster home and married a wealthy man instead. Five years later, she became an A-list celebrity. Her first move after hitting the big time? Calling me during her victory livestream. Watching me rush to collect a free meal from the community kitchen, she pulled her manager close with a satisfied smirk: “If you’d just stuck it out a bit longer back then, you could be living the high life with me now. Regretting it yet?” I grinned. “Oh yeah? Prove it. Wire me a hundred grand.” She hung up, furious. My phone buzzed. A hundred thousand dollars hit my account. I called her back: “Wow, color me impressed! Send another hundred grand!” “Dream on!” Right as she went to hang up, I rapped my bandaged hand against the camera: “Haha, just messing with you. Keep your money.” My smile faded. I reached up and pulled off the scarf entirely. Revealing a face weathered by chronic illness. I smiled and waved at the camera: “By the time you’re watching this recording, I’ll already be gone.” “But hey—look at you! You made it, Violet Lane!” “I always knew you would! Haha~” “Shocked? I figured once you hit stardom, you’d come back to rub it in. How’s that—called it, didn’t I?” Violet shot to her feet. She took a step forward, then froze. A bitter laugh escaped her as she turned to the host: “How much did she pay you to stage this whole thing?” The host froze: “Violet, your mother’s will specified that if we ever connected with you, we should play this recording instead.” “Will?” Violet laughed bitterly: “A selfish woman like her? She hasn’t had enough good days yet. Why would she give that up? Trying to guilt me now?” She grabbed her manager’s hand. “Sorry, but when I needed her most, she walked out on me.” She glared at the screen. “She doesn’t deserve to be anywhere near me.” “Violet, I know you hate me.” The second she turned away, my voice came through: “After I left you, I never had an easy life. Don’t worry about that.” “Still mad? Think of this goodbye video as my way of letting you vent. And if you don’t want to watch, that’s okay too.” “And seriously—congratulations on becoming a star!” Violet spun back around. The screen showed footage from every day and night from the day I left her until the end.

I picked up my handheld camera and forced a smile at the lens: “Today… let’s pretend I’m having one last meal with my Violet.” I held up the bowl of oatmeal and imagined my daughter sitting across from me. I smiled at the empty space, like I was answering an unasked question: “You’re wondering about Violet? She… has work. She can’t make it today.” I bowed my head and took a spoonful of oatmeal. Suddenly, a violent coughing fit hit me. I lurched sideways and spat a mouthful of blood-flecked oatmeal into the trash can by my feet, then quickly covered it with crumpled paper. I wiped the corner of my mouth and managed a weak smile for the camera. “End-stage kidney failure… it’s no walk in the park… Did I scare you, honey?” I lifted the camera, angling it to show myself and the empty chair across from me: “Quick, let’s get this ‘lonely mom special’ on film. Once I’m gone, you won’t get to see me like this anymore.” The lens caught only my forced smile. I held it there, staring for a long, long moment. “Violet… do you think… if I wasn’t here one day, would you… would you ever think of me?” I paused, resting my cheek gently against the cold table edge: “Sometimes I have these silly thoughts. If I turned into a bug, would you even recognize me?” I shook my head, muttering to myself: “No, a bug’s no good… maybe a little bird instead. I’d be the kind you loved as a kid—a cardinal with a clear, sweet song. If you ever missed me, I’d land on your windowsill and sing for you.” “I promise I won’t wake you up or make a mess on your windowsill…” My voice trailed off until it dissolved into quiet sobs. Dinner was finished. I leaned against the wall, shuffling slowly over to that old cabinet. In the bottom drawer, under everything else, was money I’d secretly stashed away over the years. I put it all on a bank card and carefully wrote the PIN on the back. Then I found that copy of *The Education of the Heart* I’d bought years ago and slipped the card inside. After a moment’s thought, I pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and wrote: [Violet, Mom will come back as a little bird to see you] Tears finally came pouring out, splashing heavily onto the floor. “My daughter… Mom really wishes… I could really become a little bird…”

“What do you mean my condition got worse and you told them not to let me back?!” In the footage, I clutched my test results, confronting the doctor angrily. “Clara, please calm down!” The attending physician blocked my path. “Your physical condition is too poor. There’s nothing we can do. Besides, you haven’t paid your hospital bills in a long time…” My eyes reddened as I stared at him: “You all knew about this?” I looked around at the silent nurses and other patients. “So you just gave up on me like that?” Everyone looked down. “Clara…” The doctor sighed. “You know your situation. The treatment costs are way beyond what you can afford. I recommend you just get some painkillers and spend your final days at home.” I shook my head, eyes red: “You’re lying… You’re all lying!” I grabbed the doctor’s white coat tightly: “Today is April first… April Fools’ Day. You’re just trying to scare me, right? Tell me it’s a joke!” The doctor turned his face away, silent. I collapsed onto the hospital’s cold corridor floor. Tears hit the clean tiles. “It’s over…” April first. April Fools’ Day. The day I found out my body was shutting down fast. What was even crueler? No one was joking. I don’t remember how I made it back to that basement room. For two weeks straight, I wandered around in a fog, like a zombie. On the way back from the hospital with painkillers, I didn’t even feel the raindrops hitting my face. It wasn’t until I bumped into someone that I snapped out of it, scrambling to help her pick up scattered papers: “I’m so sorry, so sorry…” When I saw the title on the top document—”Adoption Certificate”—followed by the name “Violet Lane,” my hands froze.

“Mom?” Violet was already dressed in the latest designer clothes, standing beside a well-dressed middle-aged woman. My faded old jacket and mud-spattered pants looked totally out of place. A hint of satisfaction crossed her face: “Look at you. What happened—did that rich guy dump you?” I looked up. Our eyes met—mine red-rimmed, hers suddenly stiffening. I handed back the scattered papers and turned to leave. “Mom!” She grabbed my arm: “My new mom… she treats me really well.” Of course I knew that. But I still managed a smile: “Really? That’s great.” She held onto my arm when I tried to pull away, her eyes getting a little red: “What I mean is, if you can’t make it anymore, you can tell me!” “I’m not… I’m…” I clutched the painkillers tightly. “I’m doing okay.” “Are you?” She tugged my hand, revealing the worn old bracelet on my wrist. When she was five, she’d used her saved allowance to buy materials and weave this bracelet for me. “Don’t tell me you can’t even afford a new one now!” She said it through clenched teeth. I noticed she wore an elegant watch on her wrist, no other jewelry. Our eyes met. A flicker of hope crossed hers. The next second, I ripped off the bracelet and tossed it into the storm drain. “Mom!” Her voice mixed with the rain, angry but tight with emotion. Tears streaming down my face, I kept walking. I didn’t look back. That night, I went back to the same spot in the pouring rain. A leaf? No… A pebble? No… Where’s my bracelet? I dropped my umbrella and knelt on the ground, digging with my hands. Dizzy. Nauseous. But… I can’t lose it… A dog barked. I lunged toward the sound frantically. Where the little dog had been, I found the bracelet in the muddy water. I reached out to pet the dog’s head. But instead, I collapsed face-first into the mud with a splash.

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Christmas Eve. Mom suffered a sudden brain hemorrhage and was rushed to the ICU. I called my husband Ryan. His ex-girlfriend Celeste answered. “He’s in the shower. Can I take a message?” A few hours later, Celeste updated her social media: “This boutique couples’ hotel has such amazing vibes! Definitely coming back with my boyfriend~” The photos showed clothes strewn across the floor and several used condoms. Ryan texted me: “Working late. Be home as soon as I can.” I didn’t cry. A man who cheats is garbage, and I don’t want anymore. The OR light stayed on. I leaned weakly against the wall, my hand trembling as I gripped my phone. Friends and family showed up one after another. “Jade, how’s your mom?” “Jade, what did the doctors say?” “Jade, isn’t Ryan here with you?” I kept my head down. I had no idea what to say. After Mom was brought to the hospital, the doctor immediately issued a critical condition notice. I watched doctor after doctor go into the OR, but none came back out. As for Ryan? Was I supposed to tell them he’d just posted on social media—photos from a boutique hotel with Celeste? I could only keep my head down and nurse my wounds alone. Ryan’s parents arrived. When Harold didn’t see Ryan, his face darkened. He immediately pulled out his phone to call him. “Where the hell are you? Get over here right now—” Before Harold could finish, Ryan’s irritated voice came through: “Dad, did Jade complain to you again? I’m working late at the office. She knows that!” Margaret spoke up. “Ryan, you—” “Mom, don’t. I can handle things with her. You and Dad don’t need to get involved.” “I’m swamped here. Gotta go.” Margaret looked at me awkwardly. Harold’s face turned red with rage. He was about to call again. I forced a weak smile. “Dad, if he’s working, let’s leave him be.” After I said that, all the strength seemed to drain from my body. I slowly slid down the wall. The friends and family around me were clearly upset with Ryan. He was my husband, Mom’s son-in-law. When my mom was fighting for her life, no matter what he was busy with, he should’ve been here. But he wasn’t. The operating room light went out. The door opened. I looked up with desperate hope, only to see the doctors’ grim faces. My body trembled. I couldn’t believe it. Step by step, I walked toward the operating room. When I finally saw Mom’s body, tears flooded out of me like a broken dam. In that moment, I could no longer lie to myself. There was no one left in this world who would love me unconditionally. I told his parents and everyone else to go home—I didn’t want anyone staying with me at the hospital. I stayed with Mom all night. The next morning, I called a funeral home to arrange for Mom’s body and plan the service. Watching them take Mom’s body away, I pulled out my phone and texted Ryan. [Mom passed away.] I so badly wanted him to call right away, to rush to my side and hold me. But my message went unanswered, like a stone sinking in water. I let out a bitter laugh and wiped the tears from my face. I’d loved Ryan for ten years—love at first sight, five years of friendship, three years of dating, and two years of marriage. I’d grown used to having him around. But from now on, I’d have to get used to life without him.

The first time I saw him, he was wearing a white shirt—tall and straight with a bright, sunny smile. The day he proposed, I was overjoyed. When he slipped the ring onto my finger, I whispered: “For the rest of my life, it’s only you.” His smile back then was so gentle, burned into my memory forever. Before we got married, he doted on me. After we married, I never stopped loving him. But he never showed affection in public. He always said, “Our life is ours alone. What others think doesn’t matter.” I knew he was lying. Because when he was with Celeste, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other—around campus buildings, on the field, along tree-lined paths. I was jealous, but I never pushed him to change. I believed Celeste was in the past—he was my husband now, the one I’d spend my life with. But that belief crumbled every time he left me to be with Celeste. I grew more and more exhausted. Loving him was draining. Celeste called me: “Ryan was so tired from working late last night. I didn’t want him driving home, so he stayed at my place.” “But don’t worry—nothing happened between us.” Hearing the smugness in her voice, I replied calmly, “Oh. Anything else?” Celeste didn’t expect that reaction. After a pause, she said, “Jade, you’re pretty self-aware. You know making a scene won’t help.” “Thanks for the compliment.” I responded politely, then hung up and walked into a law firm down the street. I saw Ryan again the next day. I was packing up Mom’s belongings when he walked in. “Let’s go visit my parents today. I’ll change quick—wait for me, and we’ll head over together.” I didn’t object. Harold and Margaret had always been good to me. Ryan came out quickly after changing. I was shocked. He usually took at least half an hour to get ready. Then I saw Celeste waiting in the car, and it clicked. He didn’t want to keep her waiting. Celeste gave me a sweet smile. “Jade, hop in! I’ll drive today. I’m joining you guys to visit his parents.” I turned to Ryan. “You’re bringing her?” Ryan quickly explained, “Don’t overthink it. Celeste was alone and feeling down, so I invited her to come along.” “It’s just a meal, anyway. We’ll head back right after.” I smiled and opened the back door. He was right—it was just one meal. And it would be the last. “Ryan, sit up front with me so we can talk,” Celeste eagerly opened the passenger door. Ryan glanced at me hesitantly, but only for a second before getting in. I used to worry he’d feel lonely in the back seat and always told him to sit up front. But he refused—he’d rather sit alone in the back. It didn’t matter anymore. I stared out the window as the scenery blurred past, replaying the call I’d gotten earlier from the funeral home. Mom’s body was ready. Tomorrow was her funeral. They asked if I wanted to add anything to the service, suggesting I discuss it with my husband since spouses typically play an important role in funeral arrangements. But watching Ryan laugh and chat with Celeste up front, I had no desire to ask him anything. I pulled out my phone and texted the funeral home. [Remove all parts of the service involving the son-in-law. Keep everything else the same.]

“Jade, who are you texting?” Ryan suddenly asked. I didn’t even look up. “A friend.” He didn’t ask again, but for the rest of the drive, he kept glancing at me in the rearview mirror like he wanted to say something. I ignored him, keeping my eyes fixed on the window. In the past, I used to chatter nonstop during drives. He’d always act annoyed and uninterested. Now I didn’t want to talk to him at all. Harold was happy to see me, but the second he saw Celeste get out of the car, his face turned cold. Celeste pulled two bottles of wine from the trunk. Ryan smiled. “Dad, Celeste brought these for you.” “I don’t want them.” Harold grabbed the bottles and threw them to the ground. Celeste’s face fell. Her eyes watered, making her look pitiful. “Dad, what are you doing?” Ryan shouted, then turned to comfort Celeste. “What am I doing? I don’t have a son like you anymore. Now get out of my house.” Harold’s face was bright red with anger. I said gently, “Dad, don’t say things you’ll regret.” “Stop playing the victim. This is all your fault.” Ryan snapped at me. “You run to Dad with every little thing. Jade, when are you going to grow up? Tattling like a child?” I dropped my smile and nodded. “You’re right. I won’t do it again.” Harold was furious. He pointed at Ryan and shouted, “Why are you yelling at Jade? She didn’t say a word to me. I’m the one disowning you.” “Apologize to her. Now.” Ryan’s jaw tightened, his features sharp with tension. Harold raised his hand like he was going to hit him. I quickly pulled Harold inside. Ryan followed with Celeste. “Jade, I know you’re upset I didn’t come home on Christmas Eve. I can explain.” Ryan’s face was tense, his tone sharp. “I was working late that night. Celeste was worried I’d be too tired to drive, so she let me stay over. That’s all.” “Nothing happened between us. Don’t jump to conclusions.” “Got it.” I replied flatly. Whether anything happened between Ryan and Celeste that night no longer mattered to me. “Don’t you have anything to ask me?” Ryan pressed. “No.” I turned toward the kitchen to help Margaret with dinner. Ryan never cooked—he said he hated the smell of grease. After we got married, cooking became my responsibility. “Jade, don’t worry about that. Let’s talk.” Harold stopped me. He lit a cigarette and sighed. “I’m sorry about your mom. Ryan was completely out of line. As his father, I take responsibility. If you want to divorce him, Margaret and I will support you.” “I wouldn’t ask you to forgive him. I just hope that even after the divorce, you’ll still think of this as home. Come visit anytime.” I stared at my fingertips and said nothing. Ryan’s face turned pale. “Dad, what are you talking about? Why would Jade divorce me? What did I even do wrong?” “And what happened to her mother?” Harold’s hand shook as he held his cigarette, his face contorted with anger. “You still have the nerve to ask? Your mother-in-law always treated you like her own son. And you?” “She had a brain hemorrhage on Christmas Eve. She was in the hospital fighting for her life. Where were you?” “When she died, where were you?” “You have no sense of responsibility. If Jade hadn’t stuck up for you today, you wouldn’t have been allowed through that door.”

Crash. Ryan shot to his feet, his chair toppling backward. “Dad, what are you talking about?” He turned and stared at me. “Jade, tell me. Is he lying? He has to be lying.” I looked into his eyes calmly. “It’s true. My mom passed away. On Christmas Eve.” “That’s impossible.” Ryan’s voice cracked. “Jade, why didn’t you tell me something this important?” “Mom was in the hospital and you didn’t call me?” “Enough.” Harold’s voice boomed. “Jade did call you. I called you too. But what did you do?” Harold pointed at Celeste. “You were busy with some woman. You hung up on me before I could even finish. And now you’re blaming Jade? How did I raise a son like you?” “No. No, that’s not—” Ryan’s forehead glistened with sweat. “Dad, I didn’t know. I swear. I thought—I thought Jade was just complaining to you, trying to guilt me into coming home.” “Jade, you know how much your mom meant to me. How could I not care? I really didn’t know.” “If I had known, I would’ve dropped everything to be at the hospital.” Celeste spoke up in a soft voice. “Jade, don’t blame Ryan. It’s my fault. I saw how exhausted he was and told him to rest. If you’re going to blame anyone, blame me.” “I’m sorry.” She stood and gave me a small bow. I stayed seated and said calmly, “I don’t blame you. I don’t blame Ryan either. Mom just had bad luck. So did I.” “Dad, it doesn’t look like we’ll be having lunch today. I’m going to head out.” I stood and walked toward the door. “Wait.” Ryan grabbed my wrist hard enough to hurt. “Where is she? Where’s your mother’s body? I need to kneel before her and beg for forgiveness.” I gently pulled my wrist free, my movements soft but firm. “You don’t need to. My mom probably doesn’t want to see you.” When Ryan and I got married, Mom was so happy. She told me more than once to treat him well. She said it wasn’t easy for two people to make it to marriage—that we could argue, but we should never say cruel things, and never talk about divorce lightly. I took it to heart. After we married, I never fought with him. I swallowed every bit of hurt. But what happened on Christmas Eve made me see the truth: love isn’t just about compromise. No matter how much I gave, how much I bent, if our hearts weren’t in the same place, we’d never make it work. In Ryan’s heart, Celeste always came first. His love was never really mine. “Jade.”

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