Author: Momo Chan

The day before my college acceptance letter was supposed to arrive, the police took me away, and I spent five years in prison. During those five years, my wife and daughter never abandoned me—they waited until I was released. I was grateful to them and worked desperately to earn money after returning home. Until one day, I accidentally overheard a conversation between my wife and daughter. My daughter Lena Colon said, “Mom, tell Dad to stop picking me up from school. It’s so embarrassing! When you switched his acceptance letter with Uncle Kyler’s that year, I told you not to pin the blame on him! Now all my classmates are making fun of my dad for being an ex-con!” My wife Norah Colon gently stroked Lena’s head and said seriously, “I promised your Uncle Kyler I would help him succeed. Your father is stubborn—only by keeping him away from us could this secret stay hidden.” So the happy family I was so proud of was built on a carefully woven lie. Norah continued stroking Lena’s head, saying earnestly, “When your grandmother found out the truth and died of anger that year, I felt terrible guilt. So once your Uncle Kyler graduates, I’ll petition the court to restore your father’s reputation. We’ve wronged him too much already. You need to listen to him more—we mother and daughter should spend our lives making it up to him.” Lena frowned and nodded reluctantly. Their voices came through the door crack clearly into my ears, each word stabbing into my heart like a blade. As footsteps approached, I fled the scene in panic, tears I’d held back for so long finally streaming down my face. From age 25 to 30, I spent five years in prison—the best years of my life buried behind bars. I returned home battered and broken, only to face news of my failed college application and my mother’s death. My father believed I had brought shame to the family and handed me a thick rope, telling me to hang myself. Only Norah and Lena encouraged me to look forward. Norah held me tight, her eyes showing no trace of contempt or disgust. “Bryce, there’s nothing in life you can’t overcome. Lena and I will always be by your side.” Lena wiped away my tears: “Dad, don’t cry. Mom and I will protect you!” They were like dawn breaking through darkness, pulling me out of the abyss of despair. I never imagined that all the suffering and humiliation I endured was carefully orchestrated by them for my half-brother Kyler Colon. What I thought was warmth was actually their pity, given to cover up the truth. I turned around and dumped the roasted chicken I’d just bought into the trash. When I got home and pushed open the door, Lena threw herself into my arms: “Dad!” I quickly wiped my face and didn’t embrace her like I usually did when coming home. “Dad, why are your eyes all red? Did someone bully you?” Lena noticed my swollen eyes, her own filled with concern. Norah immediately grew tense, gripping my hand and looking me up and down: “Bryce, why do you look so pale? Are you feeling sick?” I calmly withdrew my hand and replied evenly, “It’s windy outside.” Norah cupped my hands in hers and blew on them gently, warm breath spreading from my fingertips. Her gaze was as tender as always. Was even such genuine concern fake? I suppressed my complicated emotions and forced myself to say calmly, “I’m a bit hungry.” Norah hurried to the kitchen to cook, with Lena following to help. As I turned around, my gaze fell on a dessert box sitting on the wooden chest. Norah always took out a flashlight late at night to look through the contents of that box. I stepped on a chair to take down the box and opened it. Seeing the diary date was from 1978 onward, my heart gradually sank.

That Christmas, I was tortured to skin and bones in prison, while Norah couldn’t wait to pine for Kyler at university. I masochistically flipped through page after page of her passionate confessions to Kyler. “Kyler, your smile is the daily light of my world, warm and radiant.” “Kyler, I can’t live without you. Without you, my world would lose all color, like a night sky without stars.” I had once hinted to her that I envied people who could write love letters. She just told me to read fewer romance novels without even looking up. Back then, I thought she was just shy. I never imagined her straightforward declarations of love were simply things she was unwilling to express to me. There were countless letters addressed to New York, each stamp carefully preserved. At the bottom of the box was a photo of the three of them at the entrance of Columbia University. Kyler wore his graduation gown and looked vibrant. Both Norah and Lena’s gazes were fixed on him. My hand gripped the photo tightly. Because I loved the wrong person, Kyler became a respected doctor while I became a despised ex-convict. After dinner, Norah went to cut fruit for me as usual, and Lena volunteered to prepare my foot bath. Actions that once felt so familiar and touching now only sent chills down my spine. The next day, I went to court to file for divorce. Then I went to the bank to withdraw the savings my mother had left me and the tuition money I’d saved for Lena, and bought a train ticket to Los Angeles departing in two days. ***** On my way home, I ran into Norah and Kyler. They were holding Lena’s hands. Lena was bouncing around, absolutely delighted. Lena had always been quiet around me, rarely this outgoing. Even Norah, who was usually stern-faced, was beaming with joy. From a distance, they looked more like a family than when they were with me. When they saw me, Norah’s face stiffened, and Lena immediately wiped the smile off her face. Kyler remained composed. “Bryce, you’re off work early today? It’s my birthday, and Norah said she wants to take me to her mother’s house to celebrate. Want to join us?” Norah immediately explained, “My mom is home alone today. She specifically asked me to let her personally handle Kyler’s birthday celebration.” Lena tugged at my sleeve and said, “Grandma made lots of delicious food. Dad, I want you to have a good meal.” I couldn’t help but sneer inwardly. Kyler had just been transferred to the military hospital yesterday. Norah and Lena clearly couldn’t wait to see him and were just using me as an excuse. I nodded, and only then did Norah breathe a sigh of relief. She drove out the military truck, and Kyler skillfully picked up Lena and got into the passenger seat first. A flash of loneliness crossed my eyes. Norah had never let me ride in her military vehicle before. She explained that the military had regulations and she couldn’t make exceptions. With my criminal record, I was afraid of gossip that might affect her, so no matter how harsh the weather, I could only ride that rusty bicycle when going out. Now I understood—all her exceptions were reserved for Kyler. Kyler said apologetically, “Bryce, there’s no room left. How about you ride in the truck bed?” Norah looked at me with some difficulty. “Today is Kyler’s birthday…” Before she could finish, I went to the backyard alone to get my bicycle. Norah was stunned, and for a moment, there was reluctance in her eyes. She let go of the steering wheel and was about to speak when Kyler interrupted, “Norah, I’m so hungry. Please drive.” Norah hesitated no more and drove away. By the time I arrived, everyone had already started eating.

After I sat down, Norah handed me a plate of beef burritos. “Bryce, I specially saved your favorite beef burritos for you. Go ahead and eat.” I pushed the plate away and said coldly, “I’m allergic to beef.” Norah and Lena loved beef, so I’d always buy them beef burritos after work. But if they’d paid any attention, they would’ve noticed that in all these years of Christmas dinners, I’d never taken a single bite of beef. Norah laughed awkwardly. “That’s my fault. I have a bad memory.” Bad memory? Yet she remembered that Kyler didn’t like onions and even picked them all out for him. Norah’s mother Ruby glared at me with disgust. “So picky. You’re an ex-con acting like you’re somebody special. You should be grateful that Norah still wants you! “You walk in here with that sour face—what do any of us owe you? Disgusting!” In Ruby’s eyes, I was a tainted man, nowhere near as good as Kyler with his respectable career that could bring honor to their family. In the past, when Ruby would go on her endless rants, Norah and Lena would defend me. Now Norah was completely absorbed in listening to Kyler, her eyes full of adoration. Lena gazed at him with worship, praising him until his expression grew smug with satisfaction. At that moment, I desperately wanted to escape this suffocating place. I put down my utensils and said calmly, “Then I’ll divorce her.” “How dare you talk back!” Ruby angrily threw hot soup at me. The liquid ran down my forehead, stinging my skin. Kyler cried out, and only then did Norah and Lena turn their attention to me. Norah glanced at me, her brow furrowing slightly. She carefully examined Kyler from head to toe, terrified that a single drop might have splashed on him. “Kyler, did you get burned?” Lena immediately rushed over, pulling out a pristine handkerchief from her pocket. “Uncle Kyler, you love being clean—we can’t let you get dirty.” Kyler smiled smugly at me and said gently, “Thank you, Norah, Lena. I’m fine.” I stood there, the burning pain on my body nothing compared to the ache in my heart. I went to the bathroom without a word. Ruby continued her disdainful mockery: “He didn’t even lose a layer of skin—what’s with the dramatic reaction?” I’d just turned on the faucet when Kyler walked in. He put his hands on his hips, looking confrontational. “Bryce, stop pretending! Ever since we were kids, no matter what I took from you, you always acted like you didn’t care. Now you’re watching your own wife and daughter care about me with all their hearts—don’t you think you’re pathetic? “Switching the acceptance letters and sending you to prison was nothing. All I have to do is say a few words, and they’ll do anything for me—even your dead mother had to suffer!” My whole body trembled uncontrollably. Kyler laughed. “Five years after you were arrested, your mother found out about Norah and me. Norah had to lock her in an abandoned bathroom, and she starved to death not long after. Oh, and it was your daughter who personally locked the door.” My chest heaved violently as I staggered backward in disbelief. Though I’d learned from Norah that day that my mother’s death was connected to her, I never imagined that she and Lena had done it themselves. For Kyler’s sake, they’d actually killed my family. Kyler was pleased with my reaction and continued, “The night your mother died, your wife and daughter threw me a graduation party at a restaurant!” I was shaking with rage and raised my hand. As if he’d expected it, he shouted and grabbed me, making me fall against him. The next second, Lena rushed in and bit my arm, making me break out in a cold sweat, though I couldn’t bring myself to fight back. In the end, she bit off a piece of my flesh. Lena spread her arms wide, her small body protecting Kyler. “Bad Daddy, don’t bully Uncle Kyler!” Norah shoved me away forcefully and pulled Kyler into her arms with concern. Kyler immediately put on a pitiful expression. “Norah, I was trying to help Bryce clean the stains off his clothes. The moment he saw the watch you bought me, he tried to snatch it away, and when he couldn’t, he called me a homewrecker who seduced you.” Norah’s face darkened as she scolded angrily, “Bryce, you’ve gone too far. If you keep spouting nonsense, I’ll send you back to prison!” Clutching my bloody arm, I laughed coldly. “Of course you would—that’s how I ended up in prison the first time!” A flash of panic crossed Norah’s eyes, but she still shouted back defiantly, “You committed a crime—you deserved it!” Ruby snapped, “You’ve done so many criminal things, do you think you’re still innocent?” I struggled to get up, and only then did Norah notice my bleeding wound. She instinctively moved to help me up, but Kyler immediately cried out, “Norah, I’m in so much pain!” Without hesitation, Norah took Lena and helped Kyler to the car. Their retreating figures hit me like a sledgehammer, shattering the last trace of tenderness I felt for them. I made my way to the clinic in a disheveled state. As I passed by a private room, I heard cheerful laughter. Through the crack in the door, I saw Norah and Lena nervously hovering around Kyler. After spotting me at the doorway, he gave me a cold sneer. “Norah, I’m really fine. You two should go back and check on Bryce—he needs you more than I do,” he said. Norah dismissed this carelessly: “Don’t worry about it. He’s always been tough. Just lost a little blood—nothing serious.” Lena nodded in agreement: “Yeah, Dad, I just want to stay with you. I don’t want to go back to Bryce. Every time he touches me with those calloused hands, it makes me sick.” I thought I was past feeling hurt by these two women. But witnessing my own biological daughter call another man “Dad” still sent a dull ache through my heart. The day Lena was born, Norah had complications and hemorrhaged badly. I waited anxiously outside the operating room. In the end, I even forced my way into the OR just to make sure both Norah and Lena were safe. Whether it was caring for Norah during her recovery or feeding newborn Lena, I handled every step personally. As a father, I had nothing to feel guilty about. Kyler smiled and said gently, “Then stay.” Lena blushed and covered her eyes. Norah’s face flushed too. She and Kyler quickly embraced, making the hospital bed creak and groan. I covered my ears and rushed out to get the medicine. After returning home and bandaging the wound on my arm, I went to the courthouse to file for divorce. Then I left a complaint letter on Norah’s supervisor’s desk. Norah and Lena didn’t come home until noon the next day. Norah gave Lena a meaningful look, and Lena immediately ran over to massage my shoulders. “Dad, on our way to drop off Uncle Kyler, we ran into Grandpa, so we had to stay at the hospital with him all night. That’s why we’re just getting back now,” she said. I couldn’t help but smile bitterly. My father had just come by last week asking for money before heading back to his hometown, and wouldn’t return until the day after tomorrow. Norah and Lena worked together so seamlessly—I wondered how many lies they’d collaborated on to deceive me. I didn’t bother exposing them and simply pulled out the divorce papers. “This is last month’s electric bill. Just sign here.” Relieved that I wasn’t pressing the issue, Norah signed without even looking at the divorce agreement. She hugged me, her tone softening: “What I said at lunch today was hurtful—I’m sorry. I apologize for Lena too. Yesterday was Kyler’s birthday, so I gave him a watch, just as a gift between family members. There’s absolutely nothing else to it.” The hickeys on Norah’s neck disgusted me. Just as I was about to push away her arms wrapped around my waist, I suddenly felt feverish all over. “Bryce, why are you so hot?” Norah gasped, pressing her palm to my forehead. “You have a fever.” Hearing me cough, Lena immediately ran to get water. Norah hurriedly threw on her jacket: “I’ll go to the clinic for medicine.” Just then, chaotic shouting suddenly erupted from outside: “Fire! Help put out the fire!” Norah’s face instantly changed, and she bolted out the door in her slippers. Lena also dropped the water glass and ran after her. They were racing toward Kyler’s dormitory, even though the fire was clearly a whole street away from there. I suddenly found it somewhat amusing. No matter how well they usually acted, they’d always reveal their true priorities when someone they really cared about was involved. But that was fine—they didn’t need to make excuses to leave anymore. I rummaged through the house to find what little medicine we had left, took it, and went to sleep. The next day, I left a handwritten letter, picked up my luggage, and boarded the train to Los Angeles. Meanwhile, Norah was just getting out of Kyler’s bed. She slapped her forehead in frustration. Remembering that I still had a fever, she hurried out to buy my favorite canned chickpeas. Unexpectedly, she ran into her supervisor Owen Hess at the street corner. Owen threw the complaint letter in Norah’s face and angrily scolded: “How could you let Mr. Colon suffer such injustice? My people have already investigated everything. What do you have to say in your defense?”

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My husband’s mother, Maria Ortiz, seems unable to understand what I’m saying. My husband Ryan Ortiz mentioned he wanted shrimp, so we had shrimp for every meal for an entire month. Ryan’s sister Ivy Ortiz said she wanted potatoes, so we had potatoes with every meal for a whole week. But when I said I was allergic to peanuts, Maria filled the dining table and refrigerator with peanut butter. That’s when I realized she was just selectively deaf to what I said. ***** After her husband passed away, Maria lived alone in a remote countryside area with poor transportation and limited medical facilities. I felt sorry for her. Ryan often hinted or directly mentioned how difficult his mother’s life was, suggesting we let Maria move in with us. I’m not a selfish person, so I agreed to Ryan’s proposal. Initially, Maria was wonderful. She helped with housework and kept the house spotless. Later, Ivy moved in too after her divorce. One evening while we were watching TV, Ryan suddenly said, “Mom, I’d love some shrimp, but unfortunately Josie’s allergic to seafood.” I knew Ryan wasn’t asking Maria to make shrimp for him—he was just expressing regret to his mother. I’m not sure if it was my imagination, but Maria glared at me, as if blaming me for being unfair to her son. I thought I must have been mistaken. After all, Maria had been with us for three months and treated me well, even washing my underwear for me. “It’s okay, since you want it, I’ll make it. I’ll just prepare two separate dinners tomorrow,” Maria said. Ryan’s eyes lit up. He knew about my seafood allergy and hadn’t eaten seafood since we got together. I didn’t stop Maria. Before she came, Ryan and I didn’t eat shrimp at home simply because we didn’t want to cook multiple dishes. But I was still worried about my allergy, so I reminded her, “Maria, please make sure to wash your hands thoroughly when cooking, and don’t use the same pot that cooked shrimp for other food.” I didn’t mean anything by it—I just absolutely cannot come into contact with seafood. Maria smiled and nodded repeatedly, “I know.” The next day I went to work feeling reassured and didn’t think much about it. But when I came home that evening and saw the table covered with shrimp dishes while all I had to eat was a single spaghetti salad, I felt pretty down. Ivy and Ryan were devouring their food. Ryan didn’t seem to think there was anything wrong with me eating only salad. I’d been working overtime at the company recently and hadn’t had time for lunch, so I was really hungry. But thinking about how hard Maria had worked cooking for so long, I couldn’t bring myself to ask for more. So I just swallowed my disappointment and started eating the salad. But the moment I took my first bite, something felt wrong. I immediately put down my fork and demanded, “Maria, did you cook the spaghetti in the same pot?” Maria continued eating nonchalantly and said, “Using two burners would waste too much money, and at my age, washing two pots is exhausting. You don’t do housework, so you wouldn’t know.” She only considered how hard it was for her to cook. “If you’re going to be so picky, cook for yourself. Why are you always bossing my mom around?” Ivy snapped angrily. Ryan just kept eating. Maybe sensing the tension, he said to me without looking up, “Just eat it. We didn’t make you eat shrimp, so you’re fine. Why make such a big deal out of it?” Then he turned to Maria, “Mom, could you make garlic shrimp for me tomorrow?” Maria immediately nodded in agreement. So Maria was just selectively deaf to what I said.

That evening, I quickly broke out in a large patch of red rash all over my body, itching unbearably. I looked at Ryan sleeping soundly and kicked him awake with my foot. “What’s wrong? I’m trying to sleep.” Ryan rubbed his eyes, clearly annoyed at being woken up. Before we got married, Ryan always put my feelings first. I never expected him to show his true colors so quickly after the wedding. I was furious. “I’m having an allergic reaction! Take me to the hospital now!” I knew my body too well. The allergic reaction was just starting, but soon I’d have trouble breathing. When I was little, I nearly suffocated from a seafood allergy. After that incident, our house never had any seafood again. For the sake of my health, even my dad, who loved seafood so much, gave it up completely. He was afraid that if he secretly ate some, even his breath might trigger my allergies. I had told Ryan about my allergy history. Ryan rolled over and buried his head under the blanket. “This is so annoying. Just find some medicine and take it. You only had one bite – it can’t be that serious.” I kept scratching my arms and neck, watching the situation get worse and worse. I shouted angrily, “I told your mom not to use the same pot she cooked shrimp in to make other food. Didn’t she understand what I said?” My voice must have been too loud because Maria and Ivy pushed open our bedroom door. They must have heard what I just said. Maria stood in the doorway looking aggrieved. “Is it wrong for me to do housework for you? My son married you, and now he can’t even have the freedom to eat seafood? You look fine to me – you’re just being too delicate. How serious can an allergy be? It’s not like it’s going to kill you.” Ivy chimed in, “Since you married into the Ortiz family, you should listen to us. Stop making trouble – we need to sleep.” Seeing their coldness, I felt desperate, but I no longer had the strength to argue with them. I could barely speak clearly and could only keep repeating, “Please… take me to the hospital.” Ivy loved stirring up trouble, Ryan couldn’t solve problems, and Maria only made things worse. Maria looked at me with disdain and said, “You young people are so delicate. I’ve lived most of my life and never seen anyone allergic to seafood. I work hard doing housework for you every day – I might as well go back to my hometown.” I collapsed directly onto the floor, but Maria wasn’t panicked at all. She kept talking as she walked out, “Josie must have caught some weird disease. Eating some dirt will cure it.” In my desperation, I quickly sent my mom a text: [Come to my house, emergency] My consciousness was getting hazier and hazier. Maria actually started shoving dirt directly into my mouth, and a fishy, foul smell exploded in my mouth. I wanted to vomit but had no strength, feeling like the vomit was already blocking my airway. “What are you doing!”

Only when I heard my mother’s voice did I finally feel safe enough to pass out. I never imagined the family I married into would be this terrible. When I woke up, my mother was looking at me with concern. Maria and Ryan were also in the hospital room, though their faces still looked rather grim. My mother was both heartbroken and furious. After confirming I was okay, she began scolding Ryan harshly. Out of politeness, she didn’t directly confront Maria. She turned to Ryan: “Ryan, I entrusted my daughter to you, and this is how you take care of her? Do you realize that if we’d gotten to the hospital any later, my daughter could have died! “And how dare you stuff dirt into my daughter’s mouth? Don’t you have any basic medical knowledge?” My family was much wealthier than Ryan’s. Initially, my mother didn’t approve of me marrying Ryan, who had nothing to his name, but Ryan was quite the smooth talker. He would visit my parents every holiday, treating them even better than his own biological parents, which finally convinced them to agree to our marriage. Ryan had always been humble in front of my parents, especially since he worked as an executive at my family’s company. Faced with my mother’s accusations, he didn’t dare say a word. Maria couldn’t accept my mother’s criticism, but put on a pitiful act: “It’s all my fault. Please don’t be angry. I absolutely won’t do this again. I was just trying to help, but I ended up making things worse.” Seeing their seemingly sincere attitude, my mother couldn’t say much more. Besides, I was already married to Ryan, so it wasn’t appropriate for her to interfere too much. She could only give a few more warnings and make Ryan promise this would never happen again before feeling comfortable enough to leave. After my mother left, Ryan casually sat down, crossed his legs, and started playing games on his phone. He didn’t mention a word about how his mother had nearly killed me, not even a single complaint about Maria. I felt disappointed and began questioning for the first time whether I had married the wrong person. Maria put on an attentive act, constantly apologizing to me: “It’s all my fault. Why didn’t you tell me you were allergic to shrimp? I really made a terrible mistake.” I was stunned. I had been ready to forgive Maria, but while her words sounded like an apology, she was actually blaming me. I clearly remembered that from the very beginning, I had told them I was allergic to seafood and couldn’t touch any of it. She acted as if she couldn’t understand what I was saying and continued doing things her own way. I remained cold toward Maria until I was discharged from the hospital. I thought that after this lesson, even if Maria couldn’t completely change, she would at least avoid making such basic mistakes again. But when I came home from work, I saw a table full of shrimp dishes, and this time there wasn’t even a pasta salad for me. Anger surged through me instantly, and I said with displeasure: “Are you trying to starve me?” Maria paused for a moment, feigning surprise: “I thought you’d eat at the office, so I didn’t make anything for you. It’s fine though, you can have a little if you’re hungry. People say that eating more builds up antibodies – you just haven’t eaten enough.” I was so angry I couldn’t speak. If allergies could be cured by eating more, would all those people who died from allergic reactions worldwide have died simply because they didn’t eat enough? So Maria really couldn’t understand what I was saying. One second she was making promises, the next she was doing whatever she wanted. I stormed into the bedroom and slammed the door, but I could hear Ivy complaining: “Just because her family has some money, she thinks she’s so great? Nobody cares whether she eats or not!” Maria sighed: “How did I become the outsider here? I was just trying to help. Hospital stays are so expensive. Ryan works so hard to earn money – how can Josie be so inconsiderate?” Throughout all of this, Ryan didn’t say a single word. Having gone a whole day without eating, I was so angry that I completely lost my appetite. That night I was still angry and wouldn’t let Ryan into the room. Holding his pillow, he said with annoyance: “It’s not like I told my mom to make shrimp. If you want to eat something, go make it yourself. Someone else cooks for you and you’re still so picky!” Ryan slammed the door loudly, and lying in the bedroom, I felt nothing but hurt. I wanted to cook for myself too, but when I opened the refrigerator, all I saw was shrimp. The kitchen was also a complete mess – Maria seemed to have used every single piece of cookware, as if she deliberately didn’t want me to eat anything other than shrimp. I complained to my mother, who could only sigh: “There’s nothing we can do – this is just how mother-in-law and daughter-in-law relationships are. You can’t get divorced over something like this, can you? I’ll transfer you some money so you can eat out.” My mother’s thinking was still somewhat traditional – she believed that once a woman got married, she couldn’t get divorced. I felt helpless, but I kept remembering how good Ryan used to be to me. I thought I could endure it a little longer, and once the dividends came in, I could buy a house and move out. What made it even more ridiculous was that we had shrimp for every single meal for an entire week. Thankfully, my mom transferred some money to me, and with the urgent company project, I didn’t have the energy to deal with Maria anymore. But I could still hear Maria saying, “Making money is so hard these days, yet she’s eating out at restaurants. She’s really not frugal at all.” I shot back, “When you stop making shrimp, I’ll come back to eat.” Ryan said, “Mom, I’m really sick of shrimp too. Can we have something different tomorrow?” Ivy chimed in, “I’ve been craving potatoes lately. Mom, how about making some potato curry tomorrow?” I knew Ivy and Ryan weren’t siding with me—they were genuinely tired of shrimp too. How could such a selfish family ever care about anyone else’s feelings? Maria immediately agreed with a smile. The next day, when shrimp finally disappeared from the table, I could only find it amusing. Her daughter’s and son’s words were unbreakable commands, while mine meant absolutely nothing. I was getting really tired of restaurant food lately. Without saying anything, I sat down to eat with them. But I never expected that when Ivy said she wanted potatoes, Maria would actually make potatoes for an entire week—mashed potatoes, baked potatoes, potato gratin, and french fries. In the morning, I wanted some toast. I usually spread blueberry jam on it, but after searching everywhere, I discovered that my nearly full jar of blueberry jam had vanished. I called out loudly, “Maria, where’s my blueberry jam?” Maria poked her head out of the kitchen and replied carelessly, “It went sour and was definitely spoiled, so I threw it out. There’s peanut butter there, isn’t there? It tastes much better than your blueberry jam.” Sure enough, there was a jar of peanut butter in the fridge. I was so angry my hands were shaking. “Maria, I told you I’m allergic to peanuts!” Maria froze for a moment, looking at me like I was some kind of monster. “Why are you so picky? Your parents just spoiled you too much. You’re just being a picky eater—why use allergies as an excuse?” I slammed the refrigerator door shut in anger. My previous hospitalization due to allergies was as if it had never happened. I went to work angry and hungry that morning. When I came home that evening, the table was still covered with the potato feast. I was used to Maria not listening to me by now. I knew that no matter what I said, she’d have an excuse to argue back. I opened the fridge, thinking I’d make myself something, but the scene inside made me gasp. There were a hundred jars of peanut butter. Besides peanut butter, there wasn’t even a carton of milk in the fridge. I immediately spun around, my eyes red with fury. “Didn’t I tell you I’m allergic to peanuts? Can’t you understand what I’m saying?” As soon as Ivy heard me talking to her mother like that, she immediately stood up. “How dare you talk to an elder like that? Just because your family has money doesn’t mean you can disrespect people like this! We have human rights too. You’re an outsider to the Ortiz family anyway—how dare you yell at my mom?” Maria quickly pulled Ivy back, acting like I had bullied her, saying tearfully and pitifully, “Josie, I know you look down on my family, but you’re Ryan’s wife now. Your parents have money and indulge you—you spend hundreds of dollars on a jar of blueberry jam. Now that I’m your family too, I certainly have the obligation to help cure your picky eating habits.” These words made me sick. Help cure my picky eating habits? So in her eyes, my allergies were just excuses for being a picky eater? I looked at Ryan. “Are you dead? Your mom is ignorant and can’t tell the difference between being picky and having allergies, but don’t you know?” I still remembered when Ryan and I were dating, he took me out to eat, and I accidentally consumed something with peanuts and went into shock. Ryan had heard about my seafood allergy, but he witnessed my peanut allergy firsthand. Ryan lowered his head. “Just don’t eat it then. There’s food on this table for you—can you stop arguing? My mom is getting older, can’t you be more understanding?” I should have known Ryan wouldn’t defend me. Looking at the table full of things Ivy loved to eat, I suddenly felt the urge to flip the whole table over. But I suddenly held back. Since Maria couldn’t understand what I was saying, and Ivy and Ryan both thought Maria was doing this for my own good—one person can never truly understand another person’s feelings. I used to complain to Ryan about whether Maria was targeting me, and Ryan would always say I was being paranoid, telling me his mom had lived a hard life and asking me to be more understanding. I laughed. Was her hard life because I married Ryan? Since Ivy and Ryan firmly stood by Maria’s side, I’d let them experience what I was going through. I suddenly smiled. Just moments ago, I was furious enough to tear the roof off, but my sudden smile left all three of them puzzled. “Maria, I was too angry just now and acted impulsively. You’re right—you’re doing this for my own good. What would this family do without you?” Maria was first surprised, then immediately became smug, saying, “It’s good that you can admit your mistakes. Don’t think I’m being nosy—you’re just too willful and need to change.” I suppressed my anger and disgust, nodding repeatedly in agreement. “You’re absolutely right. I’ll definitely change from now on.” Ryan also nodded with satisfaction and smiled at me. Ivy rolled her eyes and said, “You’d better know your place in this house and stop bringing your spoiled attitude home. We don’t want to serve a princess.” I sneered inwardly. Go ahead and gloat all you want. I’d like to see if they could still be so magnanimous when Maria started targeting them.

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After my boyfriend Christopher Harrington and I were both reborn, we tacitly understood each other without saying a word—neither of us brought up the idea of staying together. He followed his first love to New York for work, while I stayed in my hometown. Five years later, leveraging his past-life experience, he quickly became an industry leader and even had a beautiful girlfriend. Meanwhile, I stayed by my parents’ side, living peacefully in my Texas hometown. When we met again, he had his arm around the stunning Madison Blair, a cigar between his lips as he looked at plainly-dressed me with a mocking smile. “Haven’t seen you in five years—how did you become such a mess?” I ignored him. Later, when a business mogul held me tenderly in his arms, the usually composed and steady Christopher panicked. “Olivia, how can you marry another man?” ***** I saw Christopher again at our class reunion, five years after we’d last met. When I arrived exhausted, I heard someone teasing him from inside the private room. “Christopher, you’re amazing—you even managed to win over Madison.” “Of course he’s amazing! Christopher’s so successful in the big city, us small-town folks can’t compare.” “But I heard that back in the day, you and Olivia…” My hand froze as I was about to open the door. “You two used to study together all the time back then, and everyone said you were a couple. Christopher, aren’t you worried Madison will get jealous?” In that moment, I heard that familiar voice. Christopher said in a casual tone, “Olivia and I were just classmates. Don’t make things up.” I smiled coldly. It had been five years since we were reborn. Naturally, his words no longer stirred any emotions in me, so I calmly pushed open the door. Even though we hadn’t seen each other in ten years, I recognized Christopher immediately. He sat on the sofa with a cigar between his lips, Madison—our school’s beauty queen—leaning against him. Almost all our classmates had gathered around them, the couple surrounded by everyone. The moment I pushed through the door, all eyes turned to me. Kevin Sinclair, our high school class president, was as enthusiastic as ever. “Hey there, Olivia!” Hearing my name, Christopher looked up at me. He had his arm around Madison, his gaze flippant. After taking in my appearance, his expression turned disdainful. I’d rushed out today, and because of my pregnancy, I wasn’t wearing makeup and had dressed casually. I probably looked somewhat haggard. Compared to me, Madison looked exceptionally polished. She wore a designer suit, carried a Hermès bag, and had flawless makeup—she looked like someone who was well taken care of. I didn’t care about her and greeted them graciously. “Long time no see.” Christopher nodded indifferently. Madison just smiled briefly without looking at me. I naturally couldn’t be bothered to please people who didn’t appreciate it, so I turned and walked over to some classmates I was more familiar with. “We’re just missing Quentin now,” Kevin suddenly said. “He just texted me saying not to wait for him.” All our classmates sat around the dining table, toasting Christopher and Madison, flattering him. After a while, I got up to use the restroom. As I came out, I ran into Christopher, his face flushed red from alcohol. He looked at me mockingly. “Olivia, how did you become such a mess in these five years without me?”

I didn’t react to Christopher’s sarcasm at all, but suddenly found myself remembering events from before my rebirth. Before my rebirth, Christopher and I had gotten into a fierce argument. Here’s how it started: After college graduation, I had accompanied Christopher to New York for five whole years as he built his career. Now that he had achieved some success, I wanted to return to Texas to develop my own path. Because I was an only child. That year, my father had a heart attack and passed away before we could get him to the hospital in time, leaving only my mother alone at home. I was very worried about her. Because I was an only child. That year, my father had a heart attack and passed away before we could get him to the hospital in time, leaving only my mother alone at home. I was very worried about her. When we first started working, Christopher had promised me that once we saved enough money, we’d return to Texas. But he kept delaying, claiming Texas had no prospects and wasn’t worth going back to. When we first started working, Christopher had promised me that once we saved enough money, we’d return to Texas. But he kept delaying, claiming Texas had no prospects and wasn’t worth going back to. He even told me outright that he would never go back, suggesting we could bring my mom to New York to live with us instead. But my mom wasn’t comfortable with big city life. After all these years, I still didn’t feel like I belonged in New York. That’s why I finally couldn’t hold back my anger at Christopher. I said, “If you won’t go back to Texas, I’ll go back by myself!” “Are you really going to force me like this?” Christopher demanded. “What’s wrong with staying in New York? Do you want to be poor for the rest of your life? When our child is born, the education they’d get in Texas definitely won’t compare to New York.” I was already five months pregnant at the time. It was precisely because I was pregnant that I wanted to return to Texas even more. I knew very well that once the baby was born, leaving a city would become even harder. Besides, Texas really wasn’t that bad. While it wasn’t an international metropolis like New York, it was still a well-developed state capital, nowhere near as terrible as Christopher made it sound. I said, “By your logic, are all the people who stay in smaller cities useless?” “Only useless people would be content to waste their lives in small cities, living aimlessly without any ambition!” Christopher said disdainfully. “I despise that kind of person the most!” “Is that how you see me?” I looked at him coldly. “I don’t want you to become that kind of person!” Christopher declared righteously. He added, “I never should have chosen to go to college with you in Texas back then—it wasted four whole years of my life! I should have come to New York with Madison from the start!” Before high school graduation, Madison had confessed her feelings to Christopher, but he had rejected her. He and I had already fallen in love over time. But ever since he had accompanied me to apply to Texas universities, he had said things like this many times over the years. At first, I thought Christopher was just joking, or perhaps indirectly telling me how deep his love for me was and how much he had sacrificed for me. Later I realized he genuinely felt regretful. After the car accident, we had both unexpectedly been reborn together. On high school graduation day, Christopher didn’t hesitate to abandon me and follow Madison to an out-of-state university, while I remained in-state. We both knew the other had been reborn, but we tacitly agreed not to interfere with each other. I had thought I’d never see Christopher again in this lifetime, but clearly he was waiting for me here. Seeing that I wasn’t speaking, he mocked me again: “Now you finally know the consequences of staying in Texas. Look at yourself, then look at this bunch of losers. Which one of you is doing better than me? But it’s too late for regrets now—I’m planning to marry Madison.” As he spoke, Christopher pulled out a huge diamond ring from his jacket. The diamond was massive, looking to be about five carats. The reason I could tell at a glance that the diamond was five carats was because it looked just slightly smaller than the one I had at home. Seeing that I wasn’t speaking, Christopher said smugly, “If you hadn’t been so stubborn, this ring should have belonged to you.” In my previous life, when Christopher and I got married, he wasn’t as wealthy as he is now, so the ring he bought was quite ordinary. His bragging now was completely undisguised. “Congratulations to both of you.” I walked past him indifferently. I could sense that Christopher behind me seemed very unhappy. This confused me. This was his own choice. The life he was living now was exactly what he had dreamed of in his previous life. I thought to myself: “Does he really need to see me regret it before he’ll be happy?”

I sat back down at the dining table when my phone rang. After answering, an anxious voice came through: “I just got off the plane and I’m heading over right now.” I said, “Don’t come. I’ll head home by myself in a bit.” “I can’t let you attend a class reunion alone and then go home by yourself. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” I smiled and didn’t say anything more. Just as I put down my phone, someone approached me. “Olivia,” Madison came over with a wine glass in hand, “long time no see. I should thank you.” Madison smiled and said, “Christopher told me that if it weren’t for you helping him with his studies back then, he wouldn’t have gotten into an Ivy League school.” “Don’t mention it. We just helped each other out,” I said casually. “Either way, Christopher’s current achievements are partly thanks to you. I’m thanking you on his behalf.” As Madison spoke, she moved to pour wine into my glass. “I don’t drink,” I firmly declined. “Just a little bit.” Ignoring my refusal, she reached out to pour wine for me. I gently blocked the glass with my hand. Madison suddenly let out a sharp cry as the wine in her hand spilled onto her clothes and purse. She quickly grabbed napkins to wipe her outfit, complaining non-stop: “Oh no, my clothes and bag can’t get wet.” The classmates around us knew her clothes and bag were worth a fortune, and they watched us nervously. After Madison wiped her clothes for a while, she looked up and said to me with displeasure: “Olivia, even if you’re jealous of me, you can’t treat me like this! You’ve ruined my clothes and bag – can you even afford to compensate me?” I was about to explain when Christopher walked over. He said, “Olivia, you’ve gone too far!” “I didn’t do it on purpose,” I explained. I really didn’t mean to, and I hadn’t even touched that bottle just now – I was only trying to stop Madison from pouring wine for me. Somehow the wine splashed out of the bottle in her hand and spilled on her. I had barely gotten one sentence out when Christopher raised his hand to cut me off. “I just told you that Madison and I are getting married, and you’re this angry?” Christopher mocked me publicly. The classmates nearby couldn’t help but start gossiping: “I think Olivia seems pretty calm. She doesn’t seem like the type to be jealous of others, right?” “You can’t judge a book by its cover. Some people act like they don’t care, but deep down they care the most!” “Exactly. I heard that back in the day, Olivia and Christopher dated, but then Christopher went to college in another state and they broke up. Now that Olivia sees how well Christopher is doing, she probably regrets not following him!” Hearing the chatter around me, I felt helpless but still patiently explained again: “I really didn’t do it on purpose. And I said I don’t drink, but Madison insisted on pouring wine for me, which is why the accident happened.” “I sincerely appreciate you studying with Christopher back then, and I hope you can let go of your obsession,” Madison said with a sincere expression. “I know you’ve never been able to forget Christopher, but he belongs to me now.” I was stunned and looked at Madison in confusion. I said, “How did you figure out that I can’t forget Christopher? Did I say something that gave you the wrong impression? Or was there something wrong with my expression or the way I looked at him today?” “Olivia, stop pretending!” Madison said with certainty. “Christopher is doing so well in his career now – there’s no way you don’t have regrets.” “I don’t feel the slightest bit of regret,” I looked into her eyes and said seriously. “I chose my current life, and I’m very satisfied with it.” Christopher sneered, clearly not believing my words. I didn’t want to explain anymore either. We were people who had nothing to do with each other, and today’s encounter was just an accident. If I had known Christopher would be at this reunion, I might have avoided it altogether. It wasn’t that I couldn’t forget him—I just didn’t see any point in meeting up with an ex-boyfriend again. I said, “I can compensate you for the clothes and bag.” Not wanting to argue with them anymore, I said directly, “Send me the price and your bank account number, and I’ll transfer the money to you.” Christopher said bluntly, “What? Do you know how much Madison’s clothes and bag cost? The dress is fifty thousand dollars, the bag is one hundred eighty thousand dollars, and that’s not even including the accessories! They’re worth at least two hundred thousand dollars at the cheapest. Can you even afford to pay that back?” I took a deep breath. Despite Christopher’s condescending attitude, I told myself not to get angry. The doctor said pregnant women need to maintain a good mood. “Of course, I’m not a petty person either. Just apologize to Madison and we’ll call it even,” Christopher said magnanimously. “She can’t just apologize!” Madison quickly added. “You have to promise in front of all our classmates that you’ll never have any inappropriate feelings for Christopher again!” I laughed helplessly. Watching Madison’s arrogant demeanor, I picked up the nearby wine bottle that was half-spilled. The doctor said pregnant women shouldn’t get angry, but even more importantly, they shouldn’t bottle up their anger. I stepped forward and slowly poured the remaining half bottle of wine all over Madison’s clothes and bag. “Ah!” Madison screamed in shock, looking at me in disbelief. Christopher beside her also took a while to react before saying, “Olivia! Are you crazy? What are you doing?” While speaking, Christopher pulled Madison behind him and even pushed me. Fortunately, Kevin quickly protected me and stood in front of me, worried that Christopher might impulsively do something dangerous. He tried to mediate, “Christopher, calm down…” “Olivia, how dare you!” Christopher said harshly. “How dare you treat Madison like this? Who do you think you are?” I said, “I am who I am. Of course I dare to do this!” After saying that, I added coldly, “I already agreed to compensate you. The clothes and bag on her are mine now. How I handle them is my business and has nothing to do with you.” “Can you even afford it?” Christopher questioned me harshly. “Give me your bank account number,” I said seriously. Christopher said, “Are you planning to go bankrupt just to save face? Olivia, you should have changed your stubborn personality long ago. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have ended up with this kind of relationship today!” “Give me the bank account number!” I repeated, my voice louder this time. “Don’t regret this!” Christopher threatened. “Christopher, stop talking!” Madison screamed, looking absolutely furious. She said, “Since she doesn’t appreciate your kindness, give her the bill! I don’t believe she can afford to pay this much money!” Christopher didn’t hesitate anymore and gave me his bank account number. I entered the account number and tried to transfer the money, but the system reminded me that my password was incorrect. I clearly remembered it was this password. I thought for a moment and entered another password, but it was still wrong. I thought to myself, “People say pregnant women become forgetful, and it’s absolutely true. I actually forgot my password.” Christopher and Madison waited beside me, and everyone was watching me, all waiting for me to embarrass myself. Seeing that I hadn’t succeeded, Madison laughed first. “Olivia, you were so arrogant just now. Where’s your money? Why hasn’t Christopher received any money?” At this moment, Christopher was holding his phone in his hand, and there had been no notification of any incoming payment. “I forgot my password,” I explained. “I’m afraid if I enter it wrong again, my bank account will be locked.” “What a convenient excuse,” Madison said, mocking me without any courtesy. Christopher looked at me with disdain. The classmates around us were also whispering among themselves. “I thought Olivia was really going to pay Christopher back. That would be a huge sum for her!” “She’s so foolish. That’s two hundred thousand dollars, not twenty dollars!” “Olivia is making a fool of herself.” Madison stared at me coldly and asked, “Are you planning to write an IOU? When exactly do you plan to pay me back? One Christmas from now or two?” Her expression was full of disdain: “You look so poor, you probably couldn’t pay this back in a lifetime!” “Five minutes,” I said, holding up one hand. I was certain Scott would arrive within five minutes. “Stop pretending—you can’t afford to pay for it!” Madison didn’t want to waste any more time and urged, “Originally, a simple apology would have been enough, but now you need to beg for my forgiveness!” She was clearly ready to humiliate me. Christopher frowned beside her, but soon his expression turned expectant as well. Perhaps he also wanted to see me grovel pathetically.

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I’ve been married to Jameson Ramos for five years, but he’s broken his promises to me 99 times for Nora Peterson. After he broke another promise this time, I found two plane tickets to France in his office. Jameson said coldly, “I was planning to surprise you on our wedding anniversary. Since you’ve already seen them, I’ll meet you at the airport.” I packed my bags early and went to the airport, waiting from morning until late at night, but Jameson never showed up. Then I saw Nora’s Instagram post: [Today’s my birthday. Even though he didn’t have time to go to France with me, I’ll forgive him since he took me to the amusement park.] If this had happened before, I would have called Jameson crying and demanding answers. But this time, I was truly exhausted. ***** The airport was cold at night, and it was pouring rain outside. Nora’s Instagram post stung my eyes. I gripped my phone tightly, fighting the urge to throw it away. This was the 101st time Jameson had broken a promise to me. I couldn’t help trembling, and all hope in my heart had completely vanished. A week ago, because Nora was locked out of her house, Jameson left the banquet in front of everyone, abandoning me there to endure endless mockery. The venue was in a remote location, and my good friend Eliana Roberts had to drive me home after it ended. I stayed angry for a long time, until I discovered those two plane tickets to France in Jameson’s office. After being caught, he said coldly, “I was planning to surprise you on our wedding anniversary. Since you’ve already seen them, I’ll meet you at the airport.” I knew he was trying to appease me. Every time he broke a promise because of Nora, he would prepare gifts for me. I was always too soft-hearted, easily forgiving him after he coaxed me a little. But this time, I only felt endless exhaustion. It was raining and windy outside the airport, making me sneeze involuntarily. There were few people around, and I had to pay double on the ride-sharing app before finally getting a driver at 1 AM. When I got home and turned on the lights, I was startled to find Jameson sitting silently in the living room. With his arms crossed, Jameson immediately confronted me when he saw me: “It’s so late and you’re just getting home. Where have you been?” I didn’t want to talk and just pulled my suitcase toward the stairs. After waiting at the airport all day, I felt completely drained. Jameson was somewhat angry and grabbed my hand: “Answer me!” Looking at my hand in his grip, I felt disappointed: “Where did I go? Take a guess – where could I go with a suitcase?” With that, I angrily pushed the suitcase toward him. But Jameson completely forgot about our arrangement and kicked the suitcase aside: “Great, you’ve really grown bold, trying to run off without saying anything. Do you even consider me your husband? Don’t you know to check in with me?” I was so angry at Jameson’s twisted logic that I laughed coldly: “Mr. Ramos, you’re really too busy and forgetful – you even forgot about your own flight to France. But that makes sense, since you were busy playing at the amusement park with Nora. How could you possibly think of me?” A flash of guilt crossed Jameson’s expression, but he quickly became impatient: “You know I’m busy with work, and Nora and I grew up together. She has no parents – she just wanted me to spend one birthday with her. Is that really such a big deal?” I felt truly disgusted because he always used the same excuse. Just because they grew up together and Nora had no parents, no matter what, as long as she wanted something, Jameson would drop everything and put her needs first, even ranking me after Nora. Now, because of Nora’s birthday, he had left me stranded at the airport for an entire day. I fell silent, finding his words utterly ridiculous. Jameson gripped my hand tightly. I struggled to pry his fingers away, then said calmly, “Okay, I understand I was wrong. I’m sorry.” If this had been before, I would have argued with Jameson endlessly. But now my heart felt completely numb – I just wanted to end this conversation quickly and go upstairs to rest. Looking at me, Jameson froze. He stared at me for a long time, as if trying to detect something unusual. But soon he relaxed: “As long as you understand me. Tomorrow after I finish my work, I’ll take you to the resort.” With that, Jameson walked past me up the stairs. I nodded casually, then opened my phone to contact my good friend Eliana, whom I hadn’t seen in days. As expected, during tomorrow’s resort trip, Jameson would still be called away by Nora for various reasons. Since that was the case, I might as well go with Eliana instead and prepare for divorce proceedings. Once I was divorced, no matter how much Jameson did for Nora, it would have nothing to do with me anymore.

I hurried through my shower and returned to the bedroom. Jameson wasn’t asleep yet. He glanced at me, then immediately turned his back to me. I walked over to him with practiced ease and silently began massaging his back. After a while, he turned his head and looked at me with displeasure. “Didn’t you eat dinner?” I didn’t answer, just looked at him quietly. He grew irritated. “What, are you mute now?” This was the warning sign of Jameson’s temper flaring up. He always liked to nitpick over these trivial matters until I admitted fault. I couldn’t help but respond sarcastically, “How would I dare eat? I was terrified of missing Mr. Ramos’s arrival.” Jameson fell silent for a moment, then coughed awkwardly. “Well, if you were hungry, couldn’t you have found something to eat yourself? Just sitting there waiting like an idiot. How stupid. Whatever, you don’t need to massage me tonight. Get some rest.” Seeing Jameson’s patronizing expression, I didn’t argue. I simply lay down with my back to him. The person behind me didn’t move for a long time, taking a deep breath before finally turning off the lights. This was my first night not trying every trick in the book to fall asleep in Jameson’s arms. By the time I got up and went downstairs, it was already quite late. Jameson hadn’t gone to the office today—instead, he was sitting on the couch reading. He wore light-framed glasses and casual clothes, looking gentle and composed, just like when I first met him. For a moment, I thought the old Jameson had returned. But his words immediately shattered that illusion. “What are you standing there for? Can’t you see I’m waiting for you? Hurry up.” Jameson’s eyes held nothing but impatience and arrogance. I nodded and quickly finished the breakfast on the table, which had long gone cold. After cleaning up, I stood beside him. Jameson looked me up and down, frowning at my t-shirt and pants. “Being ugly is one thing, but don’t you know how to dress nicely? Ugly and lazy—only I would want you.” Now that I’d stepped out of my infatuation with Jameson, I realized how disgusting this phrase he often said really was. I used to treasure these words, treating them as proof of his love for me. I rolled my eyes internally, nodded, and said nothing. Not receiving the expected coquettish response and shyness from me, Jameson fell silent for a moment before saying, “Whatever. Since I’m making it up to you today, I won’t hold it against you.” We got in the car soon after. The ride was silent except for Jameson’s phone constantly ringing. Only Nora would dare disturb him so brazenly. Jameson showed no irritation, pulling over to the side of the road and immediately answering the call. I propped my head on my hand and looked out the window, occasionally hearing Jameson’s gentle murmurs. Nora seemed to be acting coquettish on the other end, making Jameson’s tone increasingly helpless and indulgent. This was the first time I’d heard Jameson speak in such a tone, because he’d never spoken to me that way. At that moment, his tone was so sickeningly sweet it made me want to vomit. After coaxing Nora, the indulgence in Jameson’s voice hadn’t completely faded when he immediately told me to get out of the car. “I’ll come find you later.” I was abandoned on the roadside. Watching Jameson start the car and drive away, my heart felt incredibly bitter. He wouldn’t come back, just like the ninety-nine times before when he’d broken his promises to me. Ten minutes later, Eliana drove up. Rolling down her window, she looked at me and snorted coldly. “I told you from the beginning—being a housewife never ends well.”

Eliana was right. Everyone knew that I had pursued Jameson for three years in college. In the end, because we slept together, he had no choice but to marry me. I had strong design talent and originally had the opportunity to study in Paris. But to marry Jameson, I gave it up without hesitation. I chose to be a housewife and learned cooking, massage, and other skills I had never learned at home, all for Jameson. I ignored the harsh criticism from my teachers and parents, ignored the advice from my close friends, just wanting to stay by Jameson’s side. I shook my head, pushing these thoughts out of my mind, and smiled at Eliana: “I called you here today because I hope you can help me draft a divorce agreement.” Hearing my words, Eliana was shocked and immediately pulled me into the car. Listening to her chatter on about many things, shouting about fighting for more rights for me and helping me escape from that bastard as soon as possible, I felt an unprecedented sense of relief in my heart. The grievance of being abandoned by Jameson on the roadside gradually dissipated. To celebrate my upcoming freedom in advance, Eliana took me out to have fun and wouldn’t let me go home until dawn, not even letting me check my phone. By the time I saw the messages, Jameson had nearly blown up my phone with calls and was constantly sending me texts. When I was about to reply to him, I discovered he had already blocked me. I didn’t care about this and blocked him too, even going so far as to delete him entirely. Early the next morning when I returned home, I saw Nora’s figure. She was holding a breakfast tray. Upon seeing me, she quickly ran over and grabbed my hand: “You’re back! Come sit down.” Nora spoke as if she were the lady of the house. She leaned close to my ear and whispered: “Abigail Lopez, thank you for staying out all night. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have come here. But even if you were here, I’d still come in the future.” After saying this, she looked at me smugly. Nora was bright and lovely, while I looked haggard because I had only focused on Jameson after becoming a housewife. If this had been before, seeing her would have only made me smile bitterly with inferiority. But this time, I didn’t get angry as she had hoped. Instead, I smiled faintly: “Really? Then welcome to visit. Please make yourself at home.” The divorce agreement that Eliana had prepared for me was still in my bag. At this moment, I just wanted to hand it to Jameson as soon as possible. But Nora held my hand and wouldn’t let go, chattering on about wanting me to teach her how to make breakfast, saying she wanted to learn so she could cook for Jameson. I didn’t know when Jameson had come downstairs. He strode down quickly, positioning himself between Nora and me. He looked somewhat tired and very displeased: “Abigail, what are you planning to do to Nora now?” But Nora shook her head and said, “Jameson, don’t be like this. Abigail didn’t do anything to me.” Listening to Nora’s hypocritical words, I felt utterly disgusted. I took a step back and said, “Didn’t you hear? I didn’t do anything.” However, Jameson’s expression grew even darker. He pointed at me and scolded, “You think I’d believe you? I just saw with my own eyes that you were about to push her. You’ve always liked targeting her. She hasn’t appeared in front of you for so long, and now what are you planning to do to her? You wanted to hit her right in front of me—you’re really spoiled rotten.” However, Jameson’s expression grew even darker. He pointed at me and scolded, “You think I’d believe you? I just saw with my own eyes that you were about to push her. You’ve always liked targeting her. She hasn’t appeared in front of you for so long, and now what are you planning to do to her? You wanted to hit her right in front of me—you’re really spoiled rotten.” I had only pulled Nora’s hand slightly, yet Jameson gave me a complete lecture. How ridiculous. At that moment, Nora stood behind Jameson, looking at me smugly. This wasn’t the first time Jameson had favored Nora. I thought back to that cross necklace I had made by hand. It was my first time learning to make something. After struggling for a whole week, I barely managed to complete it. But when I carefully wrapped it up and delivered it to Jameson’s desk during his work hours, all I got was a mocking comment: “It’s as ugly and tacky as you are. Take it away.” I felt deeply frustrated and vowed to make a better one next time. But before I could even take it back, Nora snatched it away. “I think it’s adorable. Abigail, can you give it to me?” Nora looked innocent and sweet, her eyes bright as she gazed at the cross necklace. Jameson answered for me directly. However, just half a day later, I saw Nora casually throw it into the trash can. I was furious and immediately rushed forward, slapping Nora in front of Jameson’s assistant, Logan Cook. Afterward, Nora covered her face and cried, saying, “Abigail snatched the cross necklace and threw it in the trash, then slapped me. I don’t know why Abigail has such malice toward me when I haven’t done anything.” Even Logan, the only person who witnessed what happened, sided with her, saying I was vicious. Jameson was extremely disappointed in me and told me to leave immediately, saying I was never allowed to appear at his company again. Back then, all I could do was cry and beg Jameson not to ignore me. But Jameson showed no compromise and directly ordered Logan to take me home immediately. Thinking about it now, I really want to slap my former self. My expression remained completely calm, not wanting to explain too much to Jameson. Then I pulled out a divorce agreement from my bag: “Since you’re home, why don’t you sign this document.”

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At our 100th engagement party, Landon Stewart once again abandoned me without hesitation. We’d been together for seven years. At the previous 99 engagement parties, he always said his childhood friend Madelyn White wasn’t married yet, and he couldn’t betray their promise. Clutching the ring in my hand, I couldn’t help but ask for the first time: “If Madelyn never gets married, will you keep staying by her side forever? What about me? What do you take me for?” Landon’s face instantly darkened. He snatched the ring from me and threw it out the window: “Madelyn and I promised each other since childhood that we’d get married together. How can I abandon her? Besides, Claire Thompson, do you really care that much about a piece of paper? We’ve been together for seven years. Without that paper, would our feelings be any different?” I stood in the center of the chapel, my hand still positioned to slip the ring onto Landon’s finger, but the ring had already been thrown out the window. Landon’s indifference toward marriage cut deep. I felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over me—bone-chilling cold. I’d already endured 99 scenes like this. From age 23 to 30, I’d been with Landon for seven years and held 99 engagement parties. Today was the 100th. At all 99 previous engagement parties, he’d refused me, using his childhood friend Madelyn’s unmarried status as an excuse. Madelyn would always call at the crucial moment, saying she was in distress and needed Landon’s company. Sure enough, Landon’s phone rang again. Seeing it was Madelyn calling, Landon immediately answered. Before he could speak, Madelyn’s sobbing voice came through clearly for everyone to hear: “Landon, my condition is acting up again. Please come keep me company, okay? Only when you’re by my side can I feel better.” Hearing Madelyn’s artificially sweet voice made me sick. Ever since Landon and I got together, Madelyn claimed she had separation anxiety disorder and could only avoid episodes when Landon was with her. How could there possibly be such a strange condition that only affected one specific person—Landon? But Landon believed it completely. So Madelyn could summon him with a single phone call anytime, including during our engagement parties. Landon hurriedly comforted her: “Madelyn, just hang in there a little longer. I’ll be right there.” His words echoed through the hall. After speaking, he turned to leave, but I grabbed his wrist. The relatives and friends below were all talking, their scrutinizing eyes seeming to nail me to a pillar of shame. Today wasn’t just our 100th engagement party—it was also my 30th birthday. People say that women enter a different phase after turning 30. So I deliberately chose my 30th birthday for our 100th engagement party, hoping to enter a new life stage with Landon as I began this new age. I’d originally thought this engagement party would finally go smoothly. I never expected Landon to reject me just as ruthlessly and want to abandon me once again. I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms. To give myself a chance to completely give up, I looked at Landon’s impatient expression and said: “Landon, we’ve been together for seven years. This is already our 100th engagement party. Stop joking around.” Landon let out a cold laugh, his tone dismissive: “So what? Madelyn and I have over twenty years of history together. Doesn’t that count for more than our seven years? I’ve already told you 99 times, and this is the 100th. Listen carefully—if Madelyn doesn’t get married, I won’t get married either. That’s the promise we made as children. Now that Madelyn has separation anxiety and can’t be without me, there’s no way I could abandon her at a time like this. Besides, do our feelings really need to be proven by a piece of paper?” I wanted to say more, to try to change his mind, but Landon forcefully shook off my hand and strode out of the hotel. Just like the previous 99 times, his retreating figure was so resolute, giving me no chance to stop him. Watching him walk away, I finally couldn’t hold back—my eyes welled up with tears. I thought: “Landon, you say Madelyn can’t be without you, but have you ever thought about me? You’ve already abandoned me, leaving me to face our relatives’ and friends’ mockery alone 100 times. Can I just be cast aside like this?”

The relatives and friends in the audience all felt deeply saddened by the situation. After our fifth failed engagement party, hardly anyone was willing to come and celebrate with us anymore. Holding onto the hope that this engagement party would definitely succeed, I kept praying and once again invited all our relatives and friends, wanting them to witness the happiness between Landon and me. But once again, I was abandoned right in front of them. The moment Landon rejected me, my family felt deeply ashamed and left the scene. Landon’s family had always looked down on me, and seeing this unfold, they seemed quite pleased. After Landon left, they departed as well. At that moment, only my friends remained at the venue, looking at me with pitying eyes. Just then, my phone buzzed. Opening it, I saw Madelyn’s latest Instagram post. The caption read: [With you by my side, I’m no longer alone.] The photo showed Madelyn leaning against Landon’s chest, with half of Landon’s face visible in the upper right corner. In the photo, Landon’s eyes were gentle and tender, completely different from the impatient man at the engagement venue just moments ago. Looking at this photo, I felt like a part of my heart had collapsed. I think our seven years of entanglement should come to an end. I had always been bothered by Madelyn’s presence. When I first got together with Landon, I had confirmed with him that if the person he liked was Madelyn, he could tell me directly, and I wouldn’t cling to him. But every time, Landon would blame me for being too harsh, accusing me of tainting their pure friendship. “Can’t you keep your mind clean? Madelyn and I are just good friends. “Madelyn suffers from separation anxiety. If no one stays with her, she’ll have an episode. I promised I’d stay by her side until she gets married. How could I abandon her? Can’t you be less petty and stop acting like a woman who only knows jealousy?” I had heard this speech at least a hundred times. Countless times during my dates with Landon, Madelyn could call him away with just one phone call, claiming she was having an episode and needed his company. Didn’t Madelyn have any other friends? Didn’t she have family? Was Landon some kind of miracle cure? Would she get better just because he showed up? I believed this was simply Madelyn’s excuse to steal Landon away from me. What was ridiculous was that Landon never thought there was anything wrong with this, choosing her over and over again, abandoning me each time. Until today, at our sixth engagement party, he still chose to leave without hesitation. I hastily wiped away the tears from the corners of my eyes, forced myself to see each friend home, then returned alone to my empty house. Sitting in the living room, I opened bottle after bottle of wine that had been prepared to celebrate our engagement and drank them all. Looking at the table covered with empty bottles, I took a photo and posted it on Instagram with the caption: [Turns out, from beginning to end, I’ve always been alone.] My friends all knew that Landon had abandoned me again today and left caring comments. [Claire, the other friends and I will be there for you.] [There’s someone better waiting for you.] Just then, my phone buzzed. I opened it to find a message from Landon: [What are you doing? I told you, Madelyn is having an episode. Can’t you be more understanding?] Looking at his message that showed no concern whatsoever, I laughed bitterly and grabbed another bottle of wine, downing it in one go. The alcohol probably burned my stomach with a fiery pain, and tears involuntarily welled up in my eyes. When Madelyn needed company, no matter what Landon was doing or where he was, he could rush to her side immediately. But when I needed company, all I got was his blame. Despite our seven years together, it seemed I had never recognized my place in his heart. That night, for the first time, I didn’t sit in the living room waiting for Landon to come home. In the past, I worried that when he came home late to a pitch-black house, he might feel like he didn’t belong, so I would always leave a light on and sit on the sofa waiting for him. Even though I often waited until dawn, I didn’t mind. Gradually, I developed chronic headaches. Today, perhaps because of the alcohol, I slept unusually deeply. The next morning, I woke up early. Sure enough, Landon hadn’t come home all night. This time, I didn’t call to question him like before, but instead made myself breakfast. After eating quickly, I prepared to go to work. Just as I was about to leave, Landon came home. Seeing the empty dining table, Landon looked somewhat surprised. “Where’s my breakfast?” Landon had stomach problems. In the past, regardless of whether he had come home the night before, I would always prepare breakfast for him, worried that skipping breakfast would upset his stomach. But today, I simply continued putting on my shoes and replied indifferently, “I already ate. You can order takeout.” Perhaps sensing that I was angry, Landon came over and put his arms around my waist, his tone much gentler than yesterday. He said, “Claire, I know it’s wrong of me to keep refusing the engagement. But Madelyn has no one to stay with her, and I really can’t feel at ease. You wouldn’t want me to marry you while worrying about someone else, would you? “Once Madelyn finds someone to spend the rest of her life with, I won’t have to worry about her having no one when she has episodes, and I’ll be able to marry you wholeheartedly. Isn’t that better? Madelyn and I are really just friends. Please don’t be upset with me, okay?” In the past, when Landon explained things to me so patiently like this, I would have forgiven him long ago. But this time, I just felt annoyed. I was truly sick of hearing such explanations. Pushing Landon’s hands away, I headed straight for the door. Before leaving, I said coldly, “I understand. I’m going to be late for work, so I’m leaving first.”

With that, I left directly. As soon as I arrived at the office, I received news that our department would be sending two people to overseas branches for training. Colleagues in my department were all signing up. Since joining this company after graduation, I’d had three opportunities to go abroad for training, and this was the fourth. Most of my fellow new hires from the same batch had already gone. After studying for a year and returning home, they all got promotions and raises. But I couldn’t bear the thought of a long-distance relationship with Landon, so I never applied and missed several good opportunities. Now that I think about it, I realize I’m already 30, but my life is a complete mess. In terms of relationships, I kept giving and chasing after Landon for seven years, only to endure 100 failed engagement parties. He wouldn’t even promise me a vague wedding date, always saying he’d get married after Madelyn got married. Career-wise, I’m still a bottom-level employee. My peers have long since moved into management positions, while I’m still stuck at the entry level. I think it’s time to make a change. I also signed up for this training program with my supervisor Eleanor Robinson. I’ve been working under Eleanor since I started at the company. Seeing me choose to apply this time, she seemed surprised. “Claire, have you finally come around? Did you discuss this with your boyfriend?” I shook my head. “This is my own decision. I want to advance further in my career.” Eleanor patted my shoulder with relief. “That’s right. Your own career is what’s most reliable. You can’t just immerse yourself in romance. I’m sure your boyfriend will understand.” I remained silent and didn’t say anything more. That day, I focused on my work and surprisingly didn’t think about Landon anymore, nor did I constantly pick up my phone to check if he’d sent me any messages. The moment I decided to sign up for overseas training, all I thought about was whether I’d be selected, not whether I’d be separated from Landon. Yesterday, the moment Landon abandoned me for the 100th time, I was completely done with him. Surprisingly, before leaving work, I actually received a message from Landon: [I’ll pick you up after work today for dinner to make up for your birthday yesterday.] I thought about it, then agreed. Perfect timing—I could make things clear with Landon today. Whether I go abroad or not, our relationship can’t continue. After work, I’d just stepped outside when I saw that familiar car. I opened the back door and got in. Landon frowned deeply. “Why aren’t you sitting in the passenger seat?” I didn’t speak, instead looking at the cartoon sticker on the passenger seat that read “Madelyn’s Private Seat.” Ever since Landon bought this car, whenever Madelyn was around, the passenger seat was always hers. I used to make a fuss about this, but Landon thought I was being unreasonable, saying it was just a seat. He felt that because Madelyn had separation anxiety, sitting closer to him would make her feel much better. So he blamed me for lacking compassion. Later, I stopped wanting to ride in his car because I didn’t want to make myself unhappy. I never expected that even when Madelyn wasn’t here, she’d still leave her mark to make me uncomfortable. If this were before, I definitely would have felt hurt. But now, I feel indifferent about it. Seeing the sticker, Landon looked somewhat embarrassed. “Madelyn has a childlike personality and can be quite possessive.” I nodded in understanding but made no move to change seats. Landon glanced back at me, and seeing that I wasn’t budging, he seemed like he wanted to say something but ultimately remained silent and started the car. During the drive, Landon kept trying to make conversation with me. I knew this was his way of making peace. From his attempts to be nice this morning to now actively starting conversations, it was already impressive that he’d kept it up for a whole day. In the past, if I didn’t respond after one of his peace offerings, the situation would flip to him getting angry and me having to comfort him. But today, my mind was entirely focused on whether I could get the opportunity to study abroad, so I only responded to him occasionally. When we reached our destination, I discovered it was an observatory. Landon excitedly put his arm around my shoulders. “I heard there’s going to be a meteor shower tonight, and this is the best viewing spot. When I was little, Madelyn and I…” At this point, Landon paused, and only relaxed when he saw I showed no reaction. He continued, “I know yesterday was your birthday, but I really can’t agree to the engagement. I brought you here to see the meteor shower as an apology, okay? Please don’t be angry anymore. I even prepared a gift for you.” With that, he pulled out a box and handed it to me. I opened it to find a bracelet I’d been wanting for a long time. Unfortunately, I didn’t need belated gifts, nor did I need a man whose heart belonged to another woman. I took a deep breath, about to bring up breaking up, when Landon’s phone rang. Seeing Madelyn’s name on the screen, Landon immediately answered. Madelyn’s voice came through: “Landon, where are you? I feel terrible. Can you come keep me company? I think I’m having another episode.” Hearing Madelyn’s dramatic voice, I let out a scoff. Over the past seven years, I’d witnessed this act far too many times. Initially, I believed in Madelyn’s condition and even felt sympathy for her. But who would sympathize with me? Ever since Madelyn claimed she had separation anxiety disorder, she’d been brazenly inserting herself between Landon and me. On Valentine’s Day, Landon and I had planned to go to the beach to set off fireworks, but Madelyn said she was having an episode and insisted on coming too. In the end, I sat on the sidelines watching Landon and Madelyn hold hands while setting off fireworks together. There were countless similar incidents. As she repeatedly ruined my alone time with Landon, I couldn’t help but become suspicious of her condition. I even consulted a psychologist about it. The doctor told me that separation anxiety disorder wouldn’t be nearly as severe as Madelyn claimed. Only Landon would believe her time and time again. At that moment, Landon immediately grabbed his car keys, ready to leave. “Claire, Madelyn needs me. Wait here for me, and I’ll come back once Madelyn feels better.” After saying this, he tried to lean in for a kiss, but I dodged away. Landon seemed like he wanted to say something more to me, but Madelyn’s moaning continued coming through the phone. Not daring to delay, he opened the car door and left. Watching the dust kicked up by his speeding car, I felt like I was back at the engagement party. I’d experienced this scenario far too many times, but I never expected to go through it again after deciding to break up. Looking at the pristine bracelet in the box, I smiled and then threw it into the darkness. What did it matter that Landon had specifically chosen a birthday gift based on my preferences? In his heart, the most important person would always be Madelyn. Shortly after Landon left, a meteor shower erupted across the sky. He was right—this really was the best viewing spot. Meteors streaked across the sky one after another, looking absolutely magnificent. Watching this rare spectacle, I felt an unprecedented sense of peace. When I stopped focusing all my attention on Landon, I realized how much beauty there was in life. I took a photo of the meteor shower and posted it on Instagram with the caption: [Appreciating nature’s wonders alone.] The next second, Madelyn also posted on Instagram. In the photo, Landon was looking down at a bowl of soup in his hands. Her caption read: [Anytime, anywhere, with you by my side.] I knew this was Madelyn deliberately provoking me, trying to make me angry. She was waiting for me to call and confront Landon, so she could enjoy the feeling of being protected by him. For seven years, she’d done this over and over again, never getting tired of it. However, I felt no anger now, nor did I want to play the fool and demand explanations like I used to.

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Just a few days into the new school year, my mother Beth Manning started pressuring me again. “Emily, have you found a man yet? Our family has to fulfill our duty in just one month. That’s your own little brother we’re talking about—how can you bear to watch him die?” Handing over my brother David Manning would be like signing his death warrant. There were over eighty women of childbearing age in the village. David had been frail since childhood—if he were assigned to impregnate them, he definitely wouldn’t survive. But I had absolutely no idea where to find a man.

After my husband Lincoln Taylor’s unexpected death, I didn’t return to my parents’ home or remarry. Instead, I devoted myself to caring for Lincoln’s parents, Landon Taylor and Ariana Taylor, as well as his brother Weston Taylor’s pregnant wife, Sofia Taylor. However, six months later, I overheard the heavily pregnant Sofia asking Weston, “Will you really treat the child in my belly as your own son?” Just as I stood there confused, Weston earnestly promised, “Don’t worry. Since I’ve taken over Weston’s identity, his child is naturally my child.” Hearing his words, I froze, standing stunned outside the door. It turned out that the one who had died in the accident wasn’t my husband Lincoln at all, but his twin brother Weston. Thinking about all the suffering I’d endured these past six months while Lincoln was with another woman, I felt like a complete fool. That very night, I called my college professor Leonardo Paterson and said, “Mr. Paterson, I’m willing to join the Western Infrastructure Construction Projects.” Six months ago, my husband Lincoln died in an accident. My parents had repeatedly tried to convince me to come home so they could help me find a good man. But every time, I firmly refused their advice without hesitation. Looking at Lincoln’s smiling face in the memorial photo, through countless nights of tears when I could barely hold on, I gritted my teeth and refused to give up. Lincoln and I had promised each other we’d be together for life, and I’d only ever acknowledge him as my husband in this lifetime. Even though the neighbors and Landon and Ariana all blamed me for being a jinx who caused Lincoln’s death, I stubbornly stayed with my four-year-old daughter Eleanor Taylor, guarding the little home we once shared. After working several consecutive overtime shifts at the factory, I dragged my exhausted body back to the courtyard where our family lived. But through the wall, I saw Weston and Sofia having some kind of heated discussion. Since I was standing at the corner, they hadn’t noticed me. Sofia was already 36 weeks pregnant. She caressed her belly, her voice full of coquettish concern: “Honey, will you really treat the child in my belly as your own son?” Hearing Sofia’s words, I was puzzled, thinking to myself, “Isn’t the child in her belly Weston’s biological son?” But Weston’s voice quickly responded: “Don’t worry. Since I’ve taken over Weston’s identity, his child is naturally my child. Sofia, I promise you, I’ll be good to you and the child for the rest of my life.” Hearing his words, I was stunned and deeply shocked. In the courtyard, Lincoln continued to pour out his love to Sofia with deep affection. From his words, I pieced together the truth from six months ago. It turned out that the one who had the accident wasn’t Lincoln at all, but his brother Weston. Seeing Sofia, who had just found out she was eight weeks pregnant, Lincoln couldn’t bear to see her without a man’s protection, so he chose to lie to everyone and successfully took over Weston’s identity. Before marrying Lincoln, I already knew that Sofia was the woman he’d liked in his youth. Later, when Lincoln went away to college, Sofia ended up with Weston, who had stayed local. Back then, after learning about this history, I didn’t take it to heart. After all, Lincoln had repeatedly assured me that he and Sofia only shared childhood friendship. But I never expected that Lincoln, that bastard, would actually covet his brother’s wife. He couldn’t bear to see Sofia being bullied. But during these six months, bearing the reputation of having caused Lincoln’s death, I was so ashamed I barely dared to leave the house. People at the factory all said I was a jinx who not only caused Lincoln’s death but also only gave him a daughter, failing to continue his bloodline. Eleanor was ostracized at school by classmates who said she was a child without a father. Yet Lincoln only cared about tenderly and carefully looking after Sofia, letting Eleanor and me be humiliated and degraded. All those beautiful memories that had supported me in remaining loyal to Lincoln even after his death completely shattered in that moment. I bit down hard on my arm, afraid of making even the slightest whimper. Only after hearing Sofia and Lincoln go inside did I drag my numb legs like a ghost and push open the door to what had once been our little home. However, as soon as I entered, I heard a loud crash. Then came the sound of an aluminum basin hitting the floor.

Hearing that voice snapped me back to reality. Realizing Eleanor was home alone, I immediately panicked and ran toward the sound. In the backyard, Eleanor stood by the well, soaking wet and staring helplessly at her torn clothes. “Eleanor!” I rushed over to her. “Why are you completely soaked?” Seeing me suddenly return, Eleanor instinctively pulled her hands into her sleeves. Sensing she was hiding something from me, I grabbed her hand directly. When I saw her once-delicate little hands now purple from the cold, I looked at Eleanor with heartbreak. “What happened? Tell me. Did someone hurt you?” Eleanor had originally tried to act like nothing had happened, but after hearing my question, she suddenly burst into tears. Between sobs, Eleanor told me: “While you were away these past few days, Aunt wouldn’t let me eat. She said I could only get food if I washed her clothes and cleaned the house.” Only then did I notice that Eleanor’s hands weren’t just red and swollen from being soaked in cold water during the winter—her palms also had several small, fine cuts, clearly from being scratched by the bristles of a broom. So this was how Sofia had been treating Eleanor while I was away. I trembled with rage. But remembering the truth I’d just overheard, I still held onto a sliver of hope. I asked Eleanor: “When you saw your aunt treating you this way, didn’t your uncle do anything?” Eleanor shook her head. As if remembering something, she said even more sadly: “Uncle thinks I’m too clumsy and always make Aunt angry. When Aunt scolds me, Uncle just tells me to get out.” Hearing Eleanor’s words, my heart ached as if it were being crushed by invisible hands. “Mommy, he’s not Daddy anymore, and he’s not Uncle anymore either.” Eleanor’s sudden words immediately pulled my thoughts back to half a year ago. That day, I had just learned about Lincoln’s accident. Looking at his mangled body, I cried so hard I couldn’t speak. But four-year-old Eleanor kept calling out “Daddy” to Lincoln, who had already assumed Weston’s identity. At that time, in front of everyone, Lincoln pulled Eleanor to the body covered with a white sheet and said: “Eleanor, your father is dead. As his only daughter, you should say goodbye to your father.” But no matter how much he denied it, during that period, Eleanor kept calling him Daddy. Until one day, after Eleanor once again called him Daddy at the dinner table, Sofia slammed her fork down hard on the table. Then she glared at me angrily: “Victoria Cameron, your husband is dead, so you’re having Eleanor call my husband Daddy. Are you trying to get my husband to take care of you two? How can someone like you deserve to be a college graduate? Your husband just died, and you’re already this eager to find another man?” And Lincoln became cold, warning us with an unfriendly tone: “Out of respect for Lincoln, I still respect you. But if you dare have any other intentions, I’ll definitely kick you both out.” After that, Eleanor never called Lincoln Daddy again. The real Weston had watched Eleanor grow up and had always been especially good to her since she was little. Landon and Ariana looked down on Eleanor for being a girl, but Weston had never hurt Eleanor. Yet in just half a year, in Eleanor’s eyes, her uncle had become like a completely different person. That’s why she said Lincoln wasn’t Daddy and wasn’t Uncle anymore either. I once asked Eleanor: “Why did you call your uncle Daddy?” Eleanor couldn’t explain why, but she was absolutely certain he was her father. Perhaps this was what they call the blood connection between father and daughter. Unfortunately, the father Eleanor missed so much already had a new family. He could even coldly watch as Sofia tormented her. Looking at Eleanor shivering from the cold, I finally made up my mind. I said: “Eleanor, would you like to leave this place with me? I’ll take you somewhere that’s not as comfortable, but where there are many kind adults. Would you come with me?” Eleanor didn’t know where I was talking about, but she nodded without hesitation: “As long as I can be with Mommy, I’ll go anywhere.” Ever since Lincoln faked his death, the state-owned factory that caused the accident arranged an accounting job for me as compensation. Except for year-end, accountants usually had very relaxed schedules, but the salary was low. This made Landon and Ariana, who already had issues with me, even more dissatisfied. They said I was incompetent, that when Lincoln was alive I depended on him for support, and now that Lincoln was dead I was depending on them. But what Landon and Ariana didn’t know was that as a 1990s architecture undergraduate, I could have had excellent career prospects. If I hadn’t accidentally gotten pregnant with Eleanor, I wouldn’t have willingly stayed home to care for my child and husband. After making up my mind, I dialed a phone number. Hearing Leonardo’s familiar voice on the other end, I couldn’t help but tear up: “Mr. Paterson, I regret my decision. Do I still have a chance to join the Western Infrastructure Development Project?” Back then, when my college professor Leonardo learned I was giving up my career to marry and have children, he was deeply disappointed. Now hearing that I had changed my mind and was even willing to participate in the most challenging Western Infrastructure Development Project, Leonardo was thrilled. He said: “You were the pride of our department. Now that you’re willing to come back, I certainly welcome you. It’s just that this project has a very long timeline—you’ll need to discuss it with your family.” After hearing his words, I said without hesitation: “Mr. Paterson, I’m widowed now. As long as you allow me to bring my daughter, I’ll definitely report on time.”

After receiving my confirmation, Leonardo told me that a car would pick me up in three days to meet up with them. Seeing me finish the call, Eleanor asked expectantly, “Mommy, can we go to that place you mentioned?” Looking at her hopeful expression, I smiled and gently stroked her head. The prickly sensation under my palm suddenly made me realize that Eleanor shouldn’t look like this. Because Eleanor was a girl, ever since she was born, Landon and Ariana had always treated us mother and daughter terribly. Even Lincoln’s colleagues mocked him for not having a son. So Lincoln told me to raise Eleanor as a boy, thinking this might cause Landon and Ariana to give us less trouble. At the time, I truly believed his words, thinking that this way Eleanor and I wouldn’t be bullied. So from then on, Eleanor had her hair cut short and wore boys’ clothes. Lincoln always said this was for my sake, claiming it was all because Landon and Ariana didn’t like girls but preferred boys. But now, thinking it over carefully, I realized that Lincoln was actually the one who resented Eleanor the most for not being a son. With this thought, I took Eleanor’s hand and headed toward the street. Eleanor instinctively asked, “Mommy, are you taking me to get a haircut?” Hearing her words, I felt my nose sting with emotion. Then I said firmly to Eleanor, “Eleanor, from now on, if you don’t want to cut your hair short, then don’t. Eleanor, you should be a little princess.” I took Eleanor to a clothing store on the street and bought her several dresses. When she saw herself wearing a dress in the mirror, the joy in Eleanor’s eyes was almost overflowing. When I brought Eleanor home looking like this, everyone at the dinner table was stunned. Ariana was the first to scold me: “You spendthrift! Do you have money to burn? You’re actually buying clothes for a girl? If you have money, why don’t you use it to support Sofia? She’s carrying the Taylor family’s grandson!” In the past, faced with Ariana’s harassment, I would never have argued back for Lincoln’s sake. But this time, I didn’t back down at all. “This is my salary. What’s wrong with spending my money on my daughter? Since Sofia is carrying the Taylor family’s grandson, why don’t you use your own money to support her?” Perhaps sensing that I seemed like a different person today, Ariana, who had always bullied us because of our weakness, finally fell silent. Noticing the awkward atmosphere, Lincoln cleared his throat and said, “Mom just isn’t used to Eleanor looking like this. After all, she’s always looked like a boy before. Victoria, after Lincoln died, didn’t you always dress Eleanor as a boy?” Back when Lincoln faked his death, I often dressed Eleanor as a boy, as if this could deceive myself that nothing had changed and Lincoln was still there. Seeing the probing look in Lincoln’s eyes, I sighed and said, “The dead can’t come back to life. Lincoln is dead, but I’m still alive. Eleanor and I naturally have to move forward. “Ariana was right before. As a widowed woman, I can’t stay in your house forever. I’ll take Eleanor and leave in a couple of days. Perfect timing—I can have my mom help me find another man.” Hearing my words, Lincoln’s face turned ugly. He suddenly raised his voice. “How can you remarry?” After realizing he’d gotten too emotional, Lincoln quickly explained, “Victoria, don’t make impulsive decisions because of what my mom said. Eleanor likes dresses, right? From now on, I’ll buy you dresses too, okay?” However, Eleanor said directly, “No need, Uncle. When I have a new daddy, my new daddy will buy them for me.” A child’s sincere words cut the deepest. Noticing Lincoln’s smile freeze instantly, I felt incredibly satisfied, as if I’d gotten my revenge on him. However, the next day, as I began packing my luggage, my bedroom door was quietly cracked open. Then someone suddenly appeared behind me. “What are you doing?”

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My husband Walker Torres and I loved each other for a lifetime. After sixty years together, we were reborn back to the 1980s. To meet Walker again, I arrived at our shared university early, but he was half a month late starting school. Watching Walker stride toward me with determined steps, sweetness and anticipation filled my heart. I had already decided that in this life, I would love him until we grew old together. But Walker walked right past me and stopped in front of Liliana Jimenez. “Hello, may I get to know you?” So in this life, Walker wanted to be with someone else. ***** Liliana said with a smile, “Eliana Watson, you wait at the school gate for hours every day. Who exactly are you waiting for? So many young, handsome classmates want to meet you, but you treat them like they’re invisible.” I ignored Liliana’s words, constantly looking toward the school gate, afraid I might miss Walker. I had been reborn, and the school gate was where Walker and I first met. In my previous life, Walker and I were an enviable couple. We got together in college, going from lovers to husband and wife. We went from having nothing to starting our own business, then to going public and becoming wealthy. We had fought, struggled, felt lost, and even despaired. In winter, we lived in a cold basement in Washington, relying on our love for each other to get through countless harsh winters. Even when we were down to our last coin and couldn’t afford food, we never thought of leaving each other. After the company went public, we moved into a big house. Our life became stable and peaceful, and we lived together for sixty years. Before dying, I lay in bed and asked Walker, “If we could go back sixty years, would you still choose to be with me without hesitation?” Walker gripped my hand tightly, and I felt the warmth from his palm. Then I closed my eyes in happiness. So after being reborn, even though all the male students showed interest in me—no matter how good their family backgrounds, looks, or character—I treated them all like air. I wanted to wait for Walker and be with him again. I never attended any social events at school. I told my classmates and friends that the person I loved would greet me at the school gate. So every day, I waited at the school gate for seven or eight hours, just waiting for Walker’s arrival. In my previous life, I met Walker on the first day of school. But in this life, Walker was surprisingly half a month late. Seeing that familiar figure outside the gate, a sweet and warm feeling welled up in my heart. Walker had a strong build, refined features, thick eyebrows, and bright, expressive eyes. Though his style wasn’t very fashionable, his clothes were very neat, and his tall stature made him stand out. Walker looked around as if searching for something. When he looked in my direction, he suddenly became excited and quickly walked toward me, just like in our previous life. I took a deep breath, smoothed my hair, and my heart began to race. It turned out that even in another life, I would fall in love at first sight with the person I had loved for a lifetime. I slowly raised my arm, ready to welcome my beloved and be with him again. But my hand stopped mid-air because Walker walked straight past me and stopped in front of Liliana beside me. He said, “Liliana, hello. I’ve known your name for a long time. May I get to know you?”

My heart skipped a beat as I stared at Walker in disbelief. I thought to myself: “Liliana? Eliana?” So he wanted to meet Liliana, not me, Eliana. I carefully recalled what happened in my past life. Since we were roommates, Liliana and I went to the campus entrance together after enrollment, constantly discussing which clubs we wanted to join. At that time, Walker approached us and said: “Eliana, hello. I’ve known your name for a long time. May I get to know you?” Since I had entered university with the top score in my major, classmates and teachers had expressed admiration for me all along the way, so I naturally assumed he was calling my name. I said: “Of course. I’m Eliana Watson. What’s your name?” A flash of shock crossed Walker’s eyes. At the time, I thought he was shocked that I had agreed so readily, but now I realize the real reason for his shock. After that day, Walker and I grew closer and closer, eventually becoming a campus couple. Classmates and teachers all said we were a perfect match. Later we got married, had children, and built our careers. Walker never expressed much emotion toward me, but I always thought he was just reserved. But watching Walker greet Liliana with such radiant charm, I realized he wasn’t the person he wanted to meet. Facing Walker’s radiant charm, Liliana answered without hesitation: “Of course. But why are you half a month late for enrollment?” Walker scratched his head sheepishly and smiled: “My grandmother suddenly became seriously ill on the first day of school, so I decided to postpone enrollment to spend more time with her. After all, nothing is more important than family.” Hearing his words, Liliana looked at him with admiration. In my past life, Walker told me his biggest regret was not seeing his grandmother Hannah Torres one last time. Hannah had died half a month before he received the death notice from his family. He blamed himself for this his entire life. But in this life, he actually postponed his enrollment deliberately, as if he knew in advance that Hannah would become ill. I wondered: “Could he have been reborn too?” On the way back to the dorm, Liliana said to me: “I have no resistance to responsible men who value family. Walker completely matches my fantasy of a partner.” I couldn’t help but wonder. In his past life, Walker deeply regretted not seeing Hannah before she died, so was he doing this for Hannah, or for Liliana? From that day on, Walker’s pursuit of Liliana became increasingly fervent and high-profile. He bought breakfast every day and waited for Liliana downstairs at the dorm, and after every class ended, he was punctually at the classroom door to pick her up. I remember in my past life when I wanted to go to the library with him to study, he would coldly tell me: “Campus is a place for learning, not for romance.” But now he was practically ready to publish his love for Liliana in the newspaper. Liliana was my good friend and often told me about her interactions with Walker: “Walker is really too good to me, so good that it feels somewhat unreal. He actually knows my shoe size and is very familiar with my shoulder width, bust, and waist measurements. He bought me many new clothes and shoes, but his taste is too tacky, and some clothes aren’t my style at all.” Liliana was the daughter of big boss Julian Jimenez, and she was very beautiful—the department beauty who had been pampered since childhood. Many people pursued her, including many who were wealthy, handsome, or very talented, and Walker was just the most ordinary among them. “These tops are too loose. I prefer fitted ones. Eliana, I’m giving them to you. They’re all brand new—I haven’t worn them.” Liliana then pulled out several pieces of clothing and handed them to me. In my past life, I was reluctant to buy new socks even when they had holes. Walker said others couldn’t see my socks, so as long as they were wearable, there was no need to waste money buying new ones. Because my socks had holes, my feet were rubbed raw with blister after blister inside my shoes. In winter, because my socks let in air, the blisters and chilblains on my feet flared up together, leaving me with mild complications in both legs after Christmas. This meant I couldn’t stand for long periods every winter. But now the new clothes and shoes Walker bought for Liliana almost filled her entire closet, with various styles and designs. So Walker did know how to love someone. In my past life, I had just been deceiving myself, thinking he was merely wooden and reserved. It had been raining recently, so all my clothes were damp. Only the top Liliana had given me was left in my closet, so I put it on to go to class. On the way, I suddenly heard a familiar voice behind me: “Eliana, stop!” I turned around and saw it was Walker. This was the first time he had spoken to me in this life. “Why are you wearing the clothes I bought for Liliana?” He looked at me with eyes full of disdain and accusation. “Even if you steal her clothes and imitate her style, your charm doesn’t match even one ten-thousandth of hers!” Hearing his words, my heart felt like it was being stabbed with needles. So in his eyes, I wasn’t worth even one of Liliana’s hairs. I explained: “Liliana gave this to me. My clothes aren’t dry yet, so I wore it.” Walker let out a cold laugh, then looked down at me condescendingly and said: “This is clothing I bought for her. You can’t wear it. Take it off.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing and stared at Walker in shock. Seeing that I hadn’t moved, Walker repeated, “Are you deaf? I told you to take it off.” With so many people on campus, Walker actually wanted me to strip in front of our classmates. In this era, public nudity could get you charged with indecency. In my past life, we had been together for 60 years. Even if he didn’t love me, after 60 years together, even a dog would have some feelings for me, right? But in this life, he actually wanted to destroy me. Seeing that I still hadn’t reacted, Walker actually tried to tear off my clothes. I panicked completely. Just then, I suddenly heard an angry roar from behind me: “Walker, what are you doing?” Liliana rushed over and shielded me behind her. Walker pointed at me and said softly to her, “Eliana stole your clothes. I wanted her to take them off and return them to you.” “I gave this to her—she didn’t steal it. Watch your words,” Liliana said angrily, then pulled me away without looking back. Back in the dorm, I asked her, “Liliana, what’s your relationship with Walker now?” Liliana scratched her head, looking hesitant and troubled: “Walker has confessed to me many times, but I haven’t given him a clear answer. Apart from claiming to be filial and responsible, there’s nothing attractive about him. Besides, my dad says my future husband must be a capable man.” Despite what she said, a month later, they officially started dating. There were rumors around school that Walker was pursuing Liliana so deliberately and purposefully because he had his eye on Julian’s wealthy merchant status. As someone from the countryside, Walker wanted to marry Liliana and become rich. These rumors quickly reached Julian’s ears. He immediately ordered them to break up or face serious consequences. Liliana had never been an obedient girl who let her parents control her. Hearing Julian’s words only strengthened her rebellious streak, and she insisted on staying with Walker. However, Julian was adamant and immediately cut off all of Liliana’s financial support. Liliana, who was used to spending money freely, began to panic. She hadn’t really liked Walker much to begin with—she was only with him to rebel against her parents. But now she had hurt herself instead. Her attitude toward Walker instantly turned cold, and she often hid in the dorm to avoid seeing him. Even when she ran into Walker on campus, Liliana would pretend not to see him and quickly walk away. Walker soon sensed Liliana’s change. One day, he found her and said confidently, “I will definitely become the kind of ‘capable man’ your father demands. Next month, I’m going to publish research that will make me famous nationwide.” Hearing these words, I felt deeply confused. As a marketing major, what kind of research could Walker publish? What research could make him famous nationwide? Then I froze, thinking: “Wait!” I suddenly remembered that next month, Washington was hosting the nation’s first undergraduate medical research competition, and as the top student in the medical school, I had been recommended by my professor to participate. I hadn’t expected my pharmaceutical research to win the gold medal and be purchased by a mysterious pharmaceutical tycoon for $100,000. The competition itself hadn’t attracted much attention, but the $100,000 price tag made me a national celebrity overnight. In the 1980s, $100,000 was a fortune. After all, the national average weekly wage was only $200. Everyone across the country was wondering what kind of genius girl had developed medicine worth $100,000. I kept thinking because I didn’t have much time left. In my past life, my knowledge was limited, and I had only researched ordinary cold and fever medication. If I enhanced my research this time to include multifunctional medicine that could treat sore throats, tonsillitis, and other complications, could I sell it for an even higher price? I worked tirelessly in the lab for an entire month, barely sleeping. Finally, on the day of the competition, I had just walked into the venue when I heard a chorus of admiration. A man said, “He’s so young, but he actually managed to develop a miracle drug. He’s incredibly capable.” A woman said, “I heard he’s not even a medical student. For him to cross disciplines and develop this kind of medicine—he’s simply a genius.” Another woman said, “Whoever marries this young man would be incredibly lucky.” The venue was filled with praise. I walked toward the crowd and found Walker happily chatting with others. The projector in the center of the venue displayed a miracle drug that was identical to the one I had researched. Whether it was the calculation process, chemical formula, or experimental results—everything was identical. The only difference was that this research bore the name “Walker Torres.” I suddenly remembered that in my previous life, after I won the award, Walker asked me for the original copy of my research report and memorized it repeatedly. I jokingly asked him, “You’re a marketing major. How did you suddenly become interested in medicine?” Walker looked at me tenderly and said, “This is my girlfriend’s first acclaimed work. I want to memorize it by heart as a keepsake.” At the time, I thought this was one of his rare romantic gestures. Now I see he had ulterior motives. Walker spotted me in the crowd immediately, then looked at me provocatively. He then turned to address the audience: “This is the result of my Christmas break research. I even spent seven days and seven nights straight in the lab without coming out. “Finally, I succeeded. After developing this miracle drug that benefits the country and its people, I feel all my hard work was worth it.” The venue erupted in thunderous applause. Everyone praised him as a rare genius. At that moment, my submitted competition report was also displayed on the projector, and everyone looked at the screen. In my competition report, both the research title and results were identical to Walker’s submission. Everyone in the venue was shocked. A man said, “Isn’t this report exactly the same as Walker’s?” A woman said, “What’s going on here? Did the organizers make a mistake?” Walker quickly walked up to me, then pulled out a document from his jacket. It was proof that he had preserved and notarized his report at a notary office a month ago, complete with an official government seal that couldn’t possibly be forged. Walker said, “I completed this research a month ago. To prevent plagiarism, I had my research results notarized at the notary office. If you don’t believe me, you can check with them.” The crowd’s murmurs grew louder, but they were all accusations directed at me. A woman said, “Thank goodness he got it notarized. Otherwise, his work would have really been stolen by her.” A man said, “If plagiarism is discovered among the contestants, the organizers shouldn’t just disqualify her—they should send her to prison.” Another man chimed in, “You’re absolutely right. If she doesn’t receive proper punishment, there will be plagiarism in every future competition.” The crowd’s condemnation seemed to cement my guilt. Walker apparently wasn’t ready to let it go and continued exaggerating to the crowd: “I heard Eliana got into university with top scores. Now I’m starting to have doubts. “Logically, as the top student in her major, even without plagiarizing, she should be able to produce original research. But clearly, she can’t. Could it be that her SAT scores were also obtained through cheating?” His intention was to get the university to expel me. Everyone present agreed with his speculation, suggesting the school document my fraud and cheating in my records, making me a pariah who would never find employment. Amid this frenzied chorus of condemnation, I slowly raised my head and smiled at Walker: “Take another careful look. Are our research reports really identical?”

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When the blizzard hit, Keith Jennings’s dream girl Karen Duncan was stranded at the airport. To rescue her, he abandoned me—Madeline Rogers—alone at the hospital. They spent fifteen days together during the blizzard, while I was trapped in the hospital corridor for fifteen days, wishing I were dead. When Keith found me, I had already fallen into a coma, clutching a terminal illness report in my hand. He knelt before my bed, saying he deserved to die, but he had discovered that he loved that woman, never me. To ease his guilt, he transferred all his assets to me, then left with Karen. But what he didn’t know was that the terminal illness report was actually his. When Keith came to pick me up, the snow outside the hospital was already falling heavily. The test results were about to come out, and we should have grabbed the report and headed straight home. I glanced at the unusually heavy sky, wanting to remind Keith to drive slowly later, but Keith’s attention wasn’t on me at all. After taking a phone call, he became distracted. It wasn’t until I gently shook his arm to get his attention, only to be impatiently brushed off, that I realized why he was so distracted—because he was still on the phone with Karen. Karen was Keith’s first love and childhood sweetheart. Five years ago, Karen suddenly broke up with Keith, forced herself to go abroad, and left without saying goodbye. Although he had told me countless times over the past five years that he hated Karen, the joy in his eyes the moment he answered her call couldn’t fool me—someone who had lived with him day and night for five years. An inexplicable unease began to grow in my heart. This unease intensified when I saw the blizzard warning on the hospital’s news broadcast. “Blizzard warning! Blizzard warning! Citizens, please do not linger outside, return home immediately! Please do not linger outside, return home immediately!” As if responding to this warning, Karen’s scream came through the phone: “Keith, I’m scared!” Keith, who had been staring into the distance, immediately responded: “I’m here! What happened?” Karen said: “Keith, the blizzard is here, I can’t see the road ahead clearly. It looks like they might close the roads, I can’t get back, what should I do? Keith, I’m so scared, I regret everything so much… I just wanted to come back to see you, but before I could even see you, am I going to die in this natural disaster? I don’t want this…” By the end, Karen was sobbing uncontrollably. Even after five years, she still knew exactly how to manipulate Keith. With just a few simple words, she instantly shattered Keith’s resentment toward her, making him willing to abandon even me—his wife of five years. She couldn’t see Keith’s condition, but I could see it clearly. As she cried, Keith’s eyes grew redder and redder. He was going to leave, he was going to abandon me. I grabbed Keith’s sleeve and forced a smile: “Keith, the test results are out, let’s go home.” Keith and I had always gotten along well after marriage. Although he didn’t love me deeply, he had never refused me before. This time, however, he unhesitatingly, almost cruelly, pried open my fingers one by one from his sleeve. He said: “Sorry, Karen’s situation is very dangerous right now. She always travels with a lot of luggage, and if I bring you along, there definitely won’t be enough room in the car. I’ll go find her first, then come back for you, okay?” Keith seemed to be discussing it with me, but his tone left no room for doubt. I took several deep breaths, finally managing to steady my trembling voice. I said: “Keith, it’s a blizzard, what am I supposed to do? Don’t abandon me, please? I’m scared too.” Before I could finish, Keith impatiently interrupted me. “Her area is too dangerous and there’s traffic, but at least you have a large building here for shelter.” After saying this, he lifted his foot to walk outside. I murmured to myself: “Is her luggage more important than my life?” Keith paused for a moment, but in the end only said sorry to me. I think I already knew the answer.

Keith left. He said he’d come back for me, but I knew he never would. As long as Karen gave him even the slightest reason to stay, he’d forget all about his legal wife trapped in this hospital. Just like that, he abandoned me in this cold, sterile place. After he left, I didn’t want to stay trapped in the hospital by the blizzard. But the storm was so fierce that I barely made it to the entrance before nearly getting knocked down by the overwhelming snow. The ground was a blanket of white, with snow piled thick everywhere. There were no pedestrians on the roads, let alone any vehicles. The bone-chilling wind whipped snow against my face, snapping me out of the illusion of our five-year marriage. I’d been fooling myself this whole time. Five years ago, I fell for Keith at first sight. Keith showed no interest in my pursuit, yet one day he suddenly proposed to me. Overwhelmed by joy, I didn’t think twice before accepting his completely unromantic proposal. Only later did I learn that Keith proposed to me the same day Karen announced her new relationship abroad. His proposal and our relationship were only made public to one person—Karen. After that, he never updated his Instagram again. But he’d previously posted countless photos of his daily life with Karen. Seeing those intimate details, I couldn’t help but envy Karen. She had experienced a vibrant Keith who loved her deeply, while I had nothing. Back then, I thought it didn’t matter. I was too naive. I always believed that once Keith and I were married, he and Karen would be impossible. I just hoped we could build a good life together. Only today did I suddenly realize I was Karen’s replacement—someone he could discard at any moment. The blizzard was affecting cell service, making the signal extremely unstable. In the last moment before losing signal completely, I received a photo from Karen. Ironically, my legal husband was holding another woman’s hands, his face full of concern as he warmed them for her. The love Keith couldn’t hide on his face—I’d never received even a fraction of it in five years. Below the photo was Karen’s caption: [Running into an ex-boyfriend on such a snowy day could be considered romantic.] My hands were already numb with cold, but I masochistically stared at that photo over and over again. Tears froze on my cheeks before they could even fall. A security guard was shouting at the entrance, urging me to come inside: “The blizzard is coming! Please enter the building immediately and don’t linger outside. The hospital will do everything possible to ensure everyone’s safety!” I stood dazed at the hospital entrance, feeling like my life had turned completely gray. With so many people trapped in the hospital, I wasn’t sure I could survive. I looked down at the medical reports in my hand. One was Keith’s, one was mine. We’d come to the hospital for our annual physical exams—we both took our health seriously. Now these two reports told different stories: one showed late-stage stomach cancer, the other showed perfect health. I clutched these two medical reports tightly. No matter what, I had to survive. I set this goal for myself, but when the blizzard actually cut off all roads and the entire city was under emergency warning, I could clearly feel how fast my heart was racing. I knew all too well that I might actually die here. I wanted to live. I had to live. The hospital’s big screen was broadcasting emergency blizzard warnings, and the footage cut to the airport. Under the heavy snowfall, a man held a woman tightly in his arms, shielding her from every flake of snow and wind. The two were struggling to make their way into the airport terminal. The scene left everyone stunned. In such extreme weather, in a life-or-death crisis, the ugliness of human nature was on full display. Whether longtime friends or loving couples, people would abandon each other to save their own lives, just to reach shelter first. But the man and woman on screen were different. Love in the face of extreme crisis seemed even more precious amid the absurdity of human nature. People around me pointed at the couple on screen, marveling that they must be lovers who truly loved each other. The reporter used them as a positive example, urging everyone not to abandon their humanity just to survive. That image stayed on screen for a long, long time. Someone took out their phone to capture this beautiful scene, saying they wanted it to inspire them through the difficult days ahead. I kept staring at that image. This picture, set against pure white, cut through me like a blade, making me struggle to breathe. The man on screen was my husband. He was carefully protecting the person he loved, while the world praised their great love. I had become a complete joke. He probably never even thought about me facing the threat of death here. I laughed bitterly at myself. People around me thought I was crazy and moved away from me. A wild, terrible idea began growing in my mind. I made a crazy decision. If I died in this blizzard, I’d accept my fate. But if I was lucky enough to survive, I would never let Keith have another moment of peace.

I was trapped in the hospital due to the snowstorm, living in absolute misery. I wasn’t a patient or a family member of one—people like me who were just there for checkups had to stay in the hospital corridors. The lucky ones managed to snag a few offices to stay in, but I definitely wasn’t one of them. Before I could even step through a door, I’d get shoved aside by the people behind me. My legs weren’t in great shape. One Christmas when Keith and I went mountain climbing together, we unexpectedly encountered a mudslide. Keith got hit and not only developed a high fever but could barely walk independently. I gritted my teeth and carried him on my shoulders, dragging him down the mountain step by step. The descent wasn’t smooth—we encountered several more mudslides. Under such difficult circumstances, I finally managed to get Keith to the foot of the mountain where rescue arrived. That’s when I collapsed. When I woke up, Keith was sitting by my bed with red eyes. That’s when I learned that both my legs had suffered nearly irreversible damage. Keith held me in his arms, tears streaming down his face as he choked out a promise to treat me well for the rest of his life. I was overjoyed then, feeling that everything I’d done for him had meaning. But his promise now seems completely unreliable. Karen only needs a few words to make him rush headlong into anything for her. Because of my leg problems, I gave up competing with others for those few available offices. I huddled alone in the hospital corridor, stuck with a defective down jacket that others had rejected, and a blanket so thin it was practically useless. But none of that mattered—I was determined to survive. During those days when the blizzard raged, the hospital’s heating system was partially damaged by the storm. Some patient rooms didn’t even have adequate heating. People got into fights over warm spots, and I got caught in the crossfire. When a middle-aged man’s wildly swinging fist hit my temple, I saw stars. The weakness I’d accumulated over days exploded in that instant. I collapsed to the ground without warning, unable even to get back up. That’s when the hospital’s big screen, which had been dark for days, suddenly lit up. During disasters, the government’s top priority is calming the anxious hearts of people in shelters to prevent civil unrest. So once again, I saw Keith and Karen under the banner of “model couple.” This time it wasn’t just a silhouette. Keith and Karen worked together, giving speeches at the airport disaster zone, urging people to stay calm and care for each other. It was actually quite effective. Both of their appeals were inspiring, making everyone believe this wasn’t the end of the world and that they could survive. People stopped being negative and stopped fighting over supplies. Keith and Karen’s speech was recorded and played on loop on the hospital’s big screen, deeply moving the people here too. I lay there on the ground, feeling like my head was about to explode. I watched that speech play over and over until everyone had calmed down. I watched Keith and Karen’s tightly clasped hands during their speech, while I couldn’t muster any strength in my body—even getting up was a luxury. I lay on the ground and closed my eyes for a very long time. Blood flowed from my nose and mouth, freezing on my face in the extreme cold. When I opened my eyes again, I saw the man who had accidentally hurt me. He had calmed down and noticed the stomach cancer report in my hand, letting out a gasp. He hurriedly helped me up while apologizing. People around us discussed my stomach cancer report, their eyes full of sympathy. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know, I really didn’t know you… I’m truly sorry for hurting you. Look, just like that couple on TV said, I’ll take care of you for the rest of this period. I won’t let anything happen to you during this snowstorm!” he said. I sat on the ground, wiped the blood that hadn’t yet frozen on my face, then took back the stomach cancer report from his hand. Bloody fingerprints remained on the paper, looking shocking. He gasped again and apologized even more profusely. I gave him an embarrassed smile. “Thank you.” He patted his chest and promised he wouldn’t let anything happen to me. Thanks to that middle-aged man’s care and protection, I survived the next five most difficult days of supply shortages. Healthy people always have some compassion for the dying, so no one objected too much to me occupying a front-row spot near the heating. The blizzard lasted a full fifteen days. Fortunately, after fifteen days, it finally stopped. The government quickly resumed operations and began directing post-disaster reconstruction. The day cell service was restored, I received Keith’s first message to me in fifteen days, along with Karen’s “kind regards.” Keith: [Sorry, my phone had no signal before. Are you still at the hospital? I’m dropping Karen off at home and will come pick you up right away.] Karen: [Are you still alive? If you are, that’s a bit troublesome, but it shouldn’t be a big problem.] By now, I could no longer muster even a trace of anger toward either of them. I just glanced at their messages indifferently and didn’t reply. Of course Keith had to come see me. Only when he came could my plan continue.

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On the seventh year of my Blood Oath with vampire Sean Wright, the heat struck me, but he was nowhere to be seen. By midnight, he finally showed up, an unconscious woman in his arms. Leaving me curling up in pain on the bed, he carried her back to his room. and anxiously called for the butler. “Check if she’s alright!” The butler cautiously told him about my condition, but Sean cut him off with annoyance. “You think I’m in the mood to drink her blood right now? Just tell her to tough it out. She won’t die.” My last glimmer of hope shattered. I could only grit my teeth and make a few long cuts on my body to bleed myself for self–rescue. After what felt like an eternity of convulsions, the torture finally ended. Lying in a pool of blood, I sent out my message before I passed out. “You have my word. I’ll break my oath with him within three days, and you’ll be my new master.” When I woke up the next day, my wounds had been bandaged, and the heavy scent of blood in the air was replaced by a faint wisp of smoke. The butler must’ve helped me. Feeling dizzy, I struggled to get up and put on my coat to hide the hideous wounds, wanting to thank him.. Right after I stepped out of my room, I bumped into Sean. He looked me over. Seeing that I seemed fine, he ordered indifferently, “Prepare a meal for me.” I nodded, but another wave of dizziness hit me. I had to steady myself against the wall, and Sean had already turned around. As usual, I brought a bowl of animal blood to his room. Stealing a look at the woman from last night in the bed, I withdrew my gaze and approached Sean. After a glance at the bowl, he frowned. Then he knocked it over, the blood staining my coat. “What the hell are you doing? Take it away!” he snarled, trying to keep his voice down. But the woman was woken anyway. Sean immediately leaned forward and asked how she was feeling, his face etched with worry. She was fine, just a bit hungry. As her stomach rumbled, she stuck out her tongue, giving a shy smile. Sean relaxed and gently pinched her cheek. Then he turned and urged me to re–prepare the meal. Only then did I realize I got it wrong. This woman wasn’t a vampire; like me, she was also a human. Stepping out of his room in silence, I heard their conversation at the door. “Is she a vampire like you?” Chelsea Vasquez sounded curious about me. “No. She’s my blood slave.” “We signed a Blood Oath, so I can only feed from her alone. You have nothing to worry about. I won’t harm you.” A human–vampire Blood Oath was valid for five years only. I should have left a long time ago, but I chose to stay here for him. But he only saw me as a blood slave, a blood bank. I had been clinging to a false hope all along. I numbly walked away, took off my blood–stained coat, removed the damp bandages, and went into the kitchen to prepare food for Chelsea. Just then, I heard footsteps behind me; the smell of the blood drew Sean here. “Why do I smell blood?” Then he saw the horrifying wounds on my arms. He pulled me close, his gaze inscrutable. “Did… you do this to yourself last night?” When the heat flared up, the master had to drink the slave’s blood. Otherwise, the slave must carve at least seven cuts. Lucky one could make it through, while the others would end up in shock and die. I was one of the lucky ones. Just like he said, I toughened it out, and I didn’t die. Only my unrealistic expectations of him died. I pulled my hand back, telling him I was fine. My indifferent attitude made him scowl. “You’re blaming me for not helping you,” he stated. “I wouldn’t dare.” He turned off the faucet, stopping me from washing vegetables. “You’re injured. Stay away from water.” That commanding tone again… I stubbornly held the food in my hand, not letting go. After a few seconds of standoff, he snorted, “Suit yourself.” Then he turned to leave. But after taking a few steps, he stopped and said in a low voice, “Tll help you the next time.” I remained silent, for there wouldn’t be a next time. The castle was as dim as ever, with only a few candles burning on the candelabras. I lit a candle to check the castle’s light–blocking conditions. If I pulled the curtains open even just a little bit, the harsh light from outside would. pour in.

Having lived here for a long time, I was already used to it. But clearly, it was a different case for Chelsea. She told Sean she wanted to go out to bask in the sun. With affection in his eyes, he said, “OK.” When I first came here a few years ago, I made a similar request. Back then, he emphasized to me that vampires should steer clear of light, and the only way to survive in this world was to live by rules. Reading the room was a blood slave’s survival instinct, so I never made such requests again. Now I realized he could have agreed to my request. But he chose not to because, unlike Chelsea, I wasn’t worth it. Taking Sean’s hand, Chelsea walked over to me with a bright smile, asking me if I wanted to tag along. I was stunned for a second before. lowering my head and saying, “I’ll stay here to prepare your meal.” Her smile faded a bit as she heard my answer, and she seemed a bit disappointed. Noticing that, Sean looked at me and ordered, “You’ll come with us. “Get the meal ready and bring it along.” I looked up at him. The candlelight illuminated my expressionless face, and only then did he notice my pale lips due to a loss of blood. He then added, his tone softening a bit, “You’re hurt badly, so just get me animal blood for the next few days.” Chelsea grabbed my hand holding the candle and echoed, “Come with us, OK? I bet it’s been ages since the last time you enjoyed some sunshine.” I was a bit in a trance as I felt the warmth of another human’s touch, missing the wax dripping down. Sean’s eyes flickered as he quickly pulled her hand away. In the next second, my fingertip hurt. I glanced at their hands clasping together and used the other hand to hold the candle. Then I said, “I’ll go get the meal ready then.” After rinsing the burn under cold water, I circled a date on the calendar. The day I drew the third circle would be the day my Blood Oath with Sean reached its full term, and I’d have a chance to break it. After getting everything ready, I pushed open the doors and was instantly bathed in the sunlight. I had been living in the dark for thousands of days already, and my first instinct was to hide myself. On the contrary, in a black robe, Sean didn’t resist at all when Chelsea grabbed him and ran out. Behind them, I took a step forward cautiously. Plucking up my courage, I stepped outside and was bathed in the long–missed natural light. As my exposed skin gradually sensed the warmth of the light, somehow, I suddenly felt the urge to cry. Then I habitually looked around for that familiar figure, only to see Chelsea on her tiptoe. “Can I see your fangs?” She was healthy, and her figure was well- proportioned. Her long hair under the sunlight was radiant, and the smile on her face was utterly eye–catching. Placing his hands on her waist, Sean drew back his hood at her request. He smiled, his pupils narrowing. In the next second, even I, standing from afar, saw his two fangs, the signature of a vampire. He didn’t worry he’d attack her because I–his blood slave–was here. In an unnoticed corner, I took a few steps back. Hiding in the shadows, I let the tree shade cover my withered hair and hid my bony, hideous hands in my sleeves. Soon, the sun set, and darkness was looming. It’d be my shift soon, so I walked out and said I should go back first. The surprised look on Sean’s face suggested he assumed I had already left. He was about to say something when Chelsea beat him to it, saying to him. “It’s time for me to go, too. Could you see me off?” Of course, he would. Since I was here, too, he said to me, “I’ll take you there as well.” The border train was the transportation between the vampire world and the human world, and my other job was workingnight shifts, patrolling the train station platform every day. This was the first time Sean offered to take me there. Fatigue washed over me, and I turned down his sudden whim, saying, “No need. Mr. Wright, you can just see Ms. Vasquez off.” Sensing something off, he walked over to me and insisted, “I’ll take you there.” Chelsea also noticed something as she watched us interact and linked arms with him. Then she said to me, “If it’s on the way, why don’t you come with us? “I heard you’ve known Sean for a long time already. Maybe you can tell me more about him.” I could tell she was defensive of me. Sean patted her hand, obviously pleased by her words. I suddenly realized I didn’t know him at all; at least I had never seen this side of him before. Anyway, I didn’t refuse them again. I bowed and said respectfully, “Thank you, Mr. Wright. Thank you, Ms. Vasquez.” As I straightened, I met Sean’s eyes. All I did was what a servant was supposed to do, though he never asked me to bow to him.

After arriving at the border train platform, I was about to go to the duty room to put my things there when Sean suddenly grabbed me. He said, “Wait for me to come back. I’ll take you back after I’m done.” Come back? Would he come back tonight? I didn’t ask because I noticed Chelsea staring at his hand covering mine. In the next second, my beeper sounded; my colleague was looking for me. So, I nodded hurriedly. Soon, Sean and Chelsea boarded the night train heading toward the human world and disappeared from my sight. Nothing happened during the routine inspections. As the hour hand on the platform clock ticked, the number of vampires coming and going waxed and waned. Sean was still nowhere to be seen until the last train arrived. I came back to the duty room and lay prone on the desk, feeling exhausted. Before I realized it, I fell asleep. I wouldn’t wait for those who’d never show up or bother with empty promises. As I opened my eyes again, I saw a familiar ceiling. There Sean was, sitting by the bed. A sweet aroma wafted over me, and I turned my head to see a slice of cake on the nightstand. “It’s for you.” Sean said. In the dim light, I met his gaze. Then I quickly looked away and said “Thanks” in a flat tone. Clearly, my reaction wasn’t what he was expecting. He pursed his lips and explained a bit irritably. “Something urgent came up last night. I didn’t mean to leave you there waiting for me. Chelsea…” “It’s fine.” I interrupted him, not interested in his excuse. He had left me behind waiting for him so many times didn’t make me feel a thing. I once more When had I last eaten? Feeling a bit dizzy, I reached out for the cake. Being cut off, Sean seemed a bit displeased. He said, “Chelsea is right- women do dig sweet things like this. What else do humans eat?” My hand froze slightly in mid–air. I realized something. He bought a cake for Chelsea, and this slice was nothing but an afterthought. Withdrawing my hand, I lay back in bed while enduring the discomfort, looking listless. “Why don’t you ask Ms. Vasquez?” “You…” He choked on my words and frowned at me. Then his phone rang. His expression changed as he saw the message; then he stood up and left hurriedly without saying a word. I drew another circle on the calendar. Then I gave the butler the slice of cake to thank him for dressing my wounds. After taking a few bites and changing my bandages, I went to the border train platform. A colleague of mine was also a blood slave. She was surprised to see me arrive so early and then told me she had seen Sean earlier. “A pretty human woman came here alone. Can you believe it? There were vampires everywhere on the platform. She almost caused a commotion. “If Mr. Wright hadn’t shown up in time, she would have been in danger. “They hugged. Who’s her to him?” Overwhelmed by bitterness, I lowered and shook my head, saying I didn’t know. Then I gave her the cookies I had baked and asked her about the conditions for breaking a Blood Oath, which was why I had come here early today. She had successfully broken hers once and was now a blood slave to her second master. She was surprised when I brought this up and wanted to ask for more, however, at the sight of the wounds on my arms, she swallowed back her words. In the end, she asked nothing and just patted my shoulder while telling me what she knew. After saying bye to her, I quit my job at the train station and went back to the castle through the thick night. As soon as I pushed the door open, I felt something off. The clothes were scattered on the floor, and muffled groans filled the air. Following a few strands of lights, I walked forward to a wide–open door. In the next second, I saw Sean. His pupils had darkened to a deep crimson, and he was drinking Chelsea’s blood with his fangs buried in her neck. Beneath him, Chelsea didn’t struggle at all. She placed her hands on his waist, meekly letting him take whatever he desired. The bag in my hand fell to the floor. Hearing the sound, Sean immediately looked up at me, his gaze sharp. In the next second, he raised his hand and hurled a glass vase at me without hesitation. It struck my shoulder heavily before shattering on the floor, causing a deafening sound. “Get out!” I snapped back to reality and realized what they were doing. The Embrace–a vampire would drain a human’s blood to mark the human as their own and then feed the human their own blood. In such a way, the human would turn into a vampire. I remained motionless for a few seconds after Sean’s furious roar. Then I picked up the Oath Necklace he had casually tossed on the floor and left the room. The Embrace lasted what felt like an eternity. By the time everything went quiet again, it was the following night. Right after I sorted out the things in the room, Sean kicked open the door and clasped my shoulders with great force under fury. His fingertips happened to land on the large patch of purplish–black bruises left by yesterday. “You gave her the blood extractor, didn’t you?!” His pupils had already returned to normal, suggesting he was no longer in the state of drinking blood, but he seemed even more furious than before. Enduring the pain, I frowned, took a deep breath, and said word by word, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He sneered, not loosening his grip at all. “I only feed from your blood. If the extractor hadn’t carried the smell of your blood, I wouldn’t have lost my mind and done that to her…. “Scarlett,” he said my name through gritted teeth. “I know what’s going on in your mind. But no matter what, you shouldn’t have harmed her like this.” His face twisted due to great anger. Suddenly, I felt utterly exhausted and sick. “You’re the one who lost control, drank her blood, and made her one of yours,” I looked at him and smiled mockingly. “You should be happy. At least no one else will drink her blood now.” In the next second, he slapped me hard, causing a loud, crisp sound. My cheek burned right away. I tilted my face and blinked hard, trying my best not to cry. “Bitch!” He gripped my chin hard to force me to look at him. His eyes were filled with fury and disappointment as he said, clenching his teeth, “I never should’ve saved you back then.” Indeed, he shouldn’t have. I smiled bitterly. What a waste of these few years–my devotion and company turned out to be nothing. “Blood!” suddenly, Chelsea in the next room screamed. “I need blood!” Sean’s expression changed. Ignoring my struggle and painful expression, he dragged me forcibly to his room. Chelsea was looking around madly, her hair scattered on her shoulders. She looked at him like he was her life–saving straw and shed tears at once. “Give me blood. Sean, I want blood!” She clutched and scratched the blanket frantically, leaving chaotic marks. The scene was so horrifying that for a while, I even forgot my pain. The animal blood in the fridge could save her. Yet, in the next second, Sean dragged me to her and ripped open my. collar. Realizing what he was going to do, I struggled crazily. But soon, he pinned my hands behind my back, and my bare neck was exposed under Chelsea’s gaze. The fresh human blood inside me was what vampires craved the most. Without hesitation, Chelsea buried her fangs in my neck where Sean had left his claiming mark. She started to drink frantically. Losing blood, I couldn’t help but twitch in pain. “Let go… of… me…” My wounds that had already stopped bleeding reopened due to my desperate struggle, and I could feel the damp, sticky blood soaking through the back of my clothes. The metallic scent wafted over me, making me sick. Sean then reached over to fix my feebly drooped head, and at that moment, I saw his bare neck. I suddenly felt that the Oath Necklace in my pocket was like a sharp knife, stabbing me hard. He saved me seven years ago. This would be my final payment. My vision went blank as my strength faded away. I stopped struggling and closed my eyes, my hands slipping feebly from behind my back. Feeling the sudden weight in his hands, Sean then noticed I had fainted. with a ghastly pale face. Suddenly, he realized what he was doing and let go of me. Chelsea, who had lost her mind, wanted to continue to drink my blood. He pushed her away, and she passed out, too. Sean pressed a hand over the two puncture wounds on my neck, but the blood continued to ooze out from between his fingers. Panicking, he shouted at the top of his lungs, calling the butler over. No one answered. He placed me in bed, asked me to wait for him, and rushed out of the room. Hearing his shouts and the sound of the castle doors being pushed open, I managed to open my eyes with difficulty. With trembling hands, I peeled off the hemostatic patch from my arm and pressed it against the wounds. on my neck. Then I crawled up and went back to my room, stumbling. Enduring the great dizziness, I rummaged through the drawer where I used to place the blood extractor. Sure enough, it was gone… The clock chimed. It was midnight. I tore off a page from the calendar, lit the fireplace that I had never used, and tossed the Oath Necklace stained with my blood inside without any hesitation. As the flames crackled and popped, I left the castle without looking back.

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