Author: Momo Chan

Before my birthday party even started, Ethan cast his phone screen onto the massive TV in our VIP lounge booth. He started an anonymous poll in our Snapchat group. The question was: Should I stay with my girlfriend to cut her birthday cake tonight, or take my childhood best friend, Melanie, to her movie premiere? A thirty-second countdown. The votes rolled in instantly. Melanie: 17 votes. Me: 1 vote. Everyone assumed that one single vote was mine. Ethan leaned back on the leather sofa, a smirk playing on his lips when he saw the results. “Well, majority rules.” Melanie immediately slid her movie ticket into his palm. “See? Even everyone else thinks you should be with me tonight.” I stood there in my favorite dress, staring at my birthday cake. The candles weren’t even lit yet. Someone in the booth let out a sharp whistle. “Come on, Chloe, don’t be a sore loser.” Right. This kind of voting had been going on for three years. When we argued, they voted to decide who should apologize first. When we went on dates, they voted to decide whose hand he should hold. Even when I asked him if he loved me, he would throw the question into the group chat. “Let’s let everyone judge this,” he’d say. I used to think that if I could just win once, it would mean he had finally chosen me. But I never won. Not even tonight. Ethan stood up and grabbed his jacket. As he walked past me, he casually ruffled my hair. “Be good. I’ll make it up to you when I get back.” I stared at the poll results on the big screen, locked my phone, and pushed the cake knife toward him. “No need.” “Ethan, I’m opting out.” 1 The VIP booth fell dead silent for a few seconds. Ethan’s hand froze mid-air, just above my head. Melanie was the first to let out a soft giggle, as if she had just heard a harmless joke. “Chloe, don’t be like that. It’s your birthday.” Ethan pulled his hand back, his brows furrowing deep. “Chloe, everyone is watching. Don’t throw a tantrum just because you lost.” In the past, the moment he raised his voice, I would be the first to bow my head. I was afraid of making him unhappy, afraid of his friends mocking me, afraid of being called “too dramatic” over nothing. But this time, I just reached down and pulled the candles out of the cake, one by one. “I’m not the one making things look ugly here.” Melanie immediately tugged at Ethan’s sleeve. “Ethan, forget it. I don’t need to see the movie anymore.” Though she said she didn’t care, she held the ticket so tight her knuckles turned white. Our mutual friends immediately started chiming in. “The poll is closed, we can’t break the rules!” “Yeah, Melanie, just go. Chloe can celebrate her birthday tomorrow anyway.” Ethan checked his watch. The movie started in twenty minutes. He remained silent for a moment, then shrugged into his coat. “I’ll drive her there.” “If you still want to celebrate, wait for me here.” “Don’t make me have to comfort both of you every single time.” I looked up, meeting his eyes. “I said, no need.” He ignored me, walking straight past me. Melanie followed closely behind him. As she passed me, she let out a gentle sigh. “Chloe, you know he hates being forced to choose.” The moment the door clicked shut, the music in the booth blasted back to life. The poll on the giant screen was still active. Melanie: 17. Me:

That lonely single vote hung there, looking like the last shred of my dignity. My phone buzzed. A new poll popped up in the group chat. This time, it wasn’t anonymous. How many minutes until Chloe runs out to apologize? Ten minutes. Half an hour. Tomorrow morning. Melanie voted for “ten minutes.” Someone replied with a laughing emoji. “Don’t overestimate her. Five minutes is enough.” “She can’t live without Ethan.” Ethan didn’t vote. But he didn’t stop them either. In the chat, someone suddenly asked, “Hey, that one vote for the girlfriend earlier… Chloe voted for herself, right?” Melanie replied with a giggling emoji. “Who else would vote for her?” I stared at the screen, my fingertips growing icy cold. They didn’t even believe that the single vote could have come from anyone else. I left the group chat. I left my birthday tiara on the table. The gold paper was damp from spilled alcohol, drooping sadly. I grabbed my purse and walked out. Someone behind me called out, “Chloe, you’re actually leaving?” I didn’t look back. The hallway was long and quiet. The glass walls reflected my reflection. A white dress, red eyes, and empty hands. I looked like a clown who had finally run out of jokes. 2 Ethan didn’t get back until 1:00 AM. I was busy packing his things. In our three years of dating, his presence had filled every corner of my apartment. His sneakers in the hallway, his razor in the bathroom, his lighter in the couch cushions. Even the throw pillows I bought had been replaced with his favorite gray ones. I was taping up the last box of his books when the front door unlocked. Ethan stood in the doorway, smelling of the cold night air and a faint perfume. It was Melanie’s signature scent. The moment he saw the cardboard boxes, his face darkened. “Are you doing this again?” I pulled a strip of tape. “I’ll have someone pick these up tomorrow.” He walked over and slammed his hand onto the box. “Chloe, I already tried to give you an out about the birthday thing.” “How long are you going to keep throwing this tantrum?” I looked up at him. “I’m not throwing a tantrum.” “I’m packing.” Ethan let out a frustrated laugh. “I took Melanie to a movie, and now you want to break up?” “You saw it yourself. The group voted for it.” My hands paused. “So, you honestly think you did nothing wrong?” He frowned. “I was just following the rules.” The rules. Again. Three years ago, during our very first poll, he used the exact same words. He had promised to make our relationship public that day. But Melanie posted a poll in the group chat first. Will Ethan going public with his relationship ruin our group dynamic? Yes: 15 votes. No: 2 votes. Ethan looked at the results and ruffled my hair. “We can go public later, babe. Everyone thinks now isn’t the right time.” So I waited three months. I waited until Melanie’s birthday, when he posted a photo of them together on Instagram. Then came New Year’s Eve, the passenger seat of his car, our anniversary, the first slice of cake. Time after time, I was put up for a vote, and time after time, I was voted out. I grabbed my old backup phone, unlocked it, and opened a folder. Inside were screenshots from the last three years. Two hundred and seventy-six screenshots. Ethan froze. “Why did you save these?” I turned the screen toward him. “So I wouldn’t get soft-hearted.” “And so I’d never forget why I had to leave.” His face went rigid. “Chloe, you’re becoming incredibly bitter.” “Bitter?” I let out a soft laugh. “Compared to watching all of you vote on my life over and over, this is actually pretty dignified.” Ethan averted his gaze. After a long silence, he muttered, “You never used to care so much about these things.” “Because I used to believe that just once, you would choose me.” He fell silent. I slid the box toward his feet. “That vote last night? It wasn’t mine.” Ethan looked up, as if he had just heard something absurd. “If it wasn’t you, who else could it be?” I didn’t answer. Because I didn’t know either. I only knew that when the countdown started, my hands were at my sides. I hadn’t even touched my phone. Perhaps it was my last shred of pride that stopped me from begging for a vote in front of a room full of people. Ethan stared at me for a long time, then suddenly kicked the box aside. “Fine.” “If you want to clear things out, make sure you don’t leave anything behind.” Right then, his phone lit up. A message from Melanie. Ethan, is Chloe still mad at me? Should I take her out for lunch tomorrow and apologize in person? Ethan didn’t try to hide the screen from me. He typed back quickly. She’s still throwing a fit. We’ll figure it out tomorrow. Looking at those words, I felt a sudden wave of amusement. To him, I wasn’t heartbroken or disappointed. I was just “throwing a fit.” I bent down, straightened the box, and taped it shut. “Ethan, we’re over.” With his back to me, he let out a cold laugh. “You’ve said that so many times.” “But you’ve never actually left, have you?” 3 Around noon the next day, my friend Sophia called me. Her voice sounded hesitant. “Chloe, Ethan called me earlier. He said you left some things at the lounge last night.” “He said you aren’t picking up his calls, so he asked me to let you know.” I was silent for a few seconds. Sophia quickly added, “I’ll go with you. We’ll grab your stuff and leave right away.” But when we arrived at the VIP lounge, the booth was packed with people. Sophia’s expression shifted instantly. She hissed under her breath, “He told me it was just your gifts here. He didn’t say the whole gang would be here.” Ethan sat in the center. Melanie sat right next to him, her eyes red and puffy as if she had cried all night. A small cake sat on the table. The candles were already lit. The moment she saw me, Melanie stood up. “Chloe, I’m so sorry.” She walked over to me with a glass of champagne, her voice trembling. “Last night was my fault. I shouldn’t have joked around with the movie ticket.” “Please don’t break up with Ethan because of me, okay?” Ethan looked up. “Melanie already apologized, Chloe. Stop being so stubborn.” “Everyone just wants to clear the air.” As soon as he finished speaking, the giant screen lit up. Someone laughed and raised their phone. “Why don’t we settle this the old-fashioned way?” A poll popped up on the screen. Should Chloe drink a glass of champagne with Melanie to officially make up? Before the countdown even ended, the votes were completely one-sided. Yes: 18. No: 0. It was as if the results had been decided before I even walked in. Melanie bit her lower lip. “Guys, don’t do this. It’ll make Chloe uncomfortable.” Ethan pushed a glass toward me. “Drink, and let’s move past this.” I stared down at the amber liquid. The sloshing champagne reflected my tired face. Over the past three years, I had drunk so many of these glasses. To not ruin the mood. To give him an out. To prove I was cool. To keep Ethan from frowning. I picked up the glass. Ethan’s expression softened a bit. Melanie let out a small sigh of relief. But in the next second, I dumped the entire glass of champagne straight into the ice bucket beside me. The sharp clatter of ice echoing in the room made everyone freeze. I placed the empty glass back on the table. “I’m not drinking to this.” “And you don’t need to notify me when you decide to ‘move past’ things.” Ethan’s face hardened instantly. “Chloe, do you have to do this?” “Do what?” I looked at him. “You guys start a poll, force me to drink, force me to be the bigger person, and force me to pretend I’m not hurt.” “And then you ask me why I’m making a scene?” Tears began to roll down Melanie’s cheeks. “I really just wanted to get along with you.” She turned around, pretending to leave. “Ethan, I think I should go. I don’t want Chloe to hate me even more.” Ethan instinctively stood up to hold her back. His reaction was so fast. So fast he didn’t even realize he had done it. But I saw it clearly. He didn’t need a poll. His body had already made the choice for him, a thousand times over. Sophia grabbed my hand and whispered, “Shall we go?” I nodded. Just as we reached the door, Ethan caught up and grabbed my wrist. “You need to make things clear before you leave today.” I shook him off. “I’ve made it very clear.” “We are broken up. She apologized. You two can carry on.” His eyes flared with anger. “I didn’t agree to a breakup.” I laughed. “Oh, so we have to vote on breakups now too?” My phone buzzed. A new poll had been posted in the group. Will Chloe come back tonight? Yes. Definitely yes. Only two options. No third choice. I held my phone screen in front of Ethan’s face. “Look.” “They’ve even decided my return for me.” Ethan’s face went pale. Melanie stood behind him, calling softly, “Ethan, please don’t fight with Chloe because of me.” He didn’t chase after me. At least, not in that moment. I walked out of the lounge into the overcast evening. On my phone, the moving company sent a confirmation text. Hi Chloe, we are scheduled for tomorrow afternoon at 3:00 PM. I typed back a single word. Perfect. 4 The sky stayed gray on moving day. I stood in the empty living room, watching the cardboard boxes stack up against the walls. Faint outlines remained on the paint where my picture frames used to hang. They looked like scars left behind after a relationship had been violently ripped away. My landlord called me, sounding troubled. “Chloe, Ethan reached out to me. He said you’re just having a small fight and told me not to process the lease termination yet.” I dropped the spare key into an envelope. “Just follow the contract, please.” The landlord hesitated. “He said you’d regret it.” I smiled gently. “That’s his opinion.” Right after I hung up, the doorbell rang. Ethan was standing outside. He was wearing the same black coat from the night before, his expression grim. He didn’t ring the bell again. He just texted me. Open the door. Stop trying to scare me with this moving stuff. Chloe, my patience is wearing thin. I didn’t reply. Ten minutes later, another text arrived. What do you want me to do? Looking at that sentence, I suddenly remembered the first time I backed down, three years ago. I had asked him the exact same thing back then. “Ethan, what do you want me to do?” At the time, he said, “Just stop being so sensitive.” It turned out some words eventually find their way back to you. Except this time, the pain was on him. By the time the movers arrived, Ethan was still standing in the hallway. When the door opened, his eyes didn’t land on me. They swept past me into the empty apartment. The shoe rack was empty. The coffee table was gone. Even the little plant he always complained was ugly was cradled in my arms. His face finally cracked. “You’re actually serious?” I nodded. “Yeah.” He reached out to grab my suitcase. “Where are you going?” I stepped back. “None of your business.” Ethan grit his teeth. “Chloe, don’t take this too far.” “I sent Melanie home last night.” “I didn’t participate in their polls either.” “What more do you want from me?” I looked at him. To him, simply stopping the hurt was already considered a massive compromise. I pulled out my old phone from my purse. The screen displayed a poll I had just created. Is Ethan worth Chloe’s second chance? Option 1: No. Option 2: Absolutely not. Total voters: 1. I clicked the second option. Ethan’s face turned incredibly pale as he saw the screen. “Are you being childish?” “I learned from the best.” I handed him the phone. “In the last three years, you let them vote on my life 1,276 times.” “Ethan, now it’s my turn to choose.” His voice dropped, cold and sharp. “Don’t you dare.” I shoved the envelope into his coat pocket. Inside was the key. The couple’s bracelet he bought me. And the movie ticket from last night, ripped in half. “I choose to vote you out.” Ethan grabbed my wrist tightly. “Chloe!” The movers stood by the elevator, looking incredibly awkward. I looked down at his grip on my wrist. In the past, whenever he held me like this, I would soften up. Even if my chest was tight with tears and hurt, I would immediately think, Is he finally trying to keep me? But this time, I only felt annoyed. I peeled his fingers away, one by one. “Don’t touch me.” Ethan froze. His fingers hovered in the air, as if he was realizing for the very first time that I could actually push him away. Just then, his phone buzzed. A message from Melanie popped up with a screenshot of a new poll. How many days until Chloe crawls back this time? Three days. A week. Two weeks max. Melanie’s profile picture was under “Three days.” Ethan’s hand trembled. He instinctively locked his screen, but it was too late. I had already seen it. At that moment, the lingering ache in my chest finally disappeared. I dropped my old phone into his palm. “You guys enjoy your bets.” “I’m out of the game.”

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On my wedding day, I, the bride, had to take an Uber to my own venue. When the wedding limo and the luxury convoy arrived to pick me up, my fiancé blocked me right in front of the car door. “Let Lily have this ride. I’ll call you another Uber.” I froze on the spot, completely speechless. Ethan continued, without a hint of guilt. “Lily is anti-marriage, but she really wanted to know what it feels like to be a bride.” “I already promised her. She’ll be the one walking down the aisle for the entrance ceremony today.” I looked past his shoulder. His childhood best friend, Lily, had already changed into a gorgeous white wedding gown and was sitting comfortably in the main bridal car. Seeing tears welling up in my eyes, Ethan sighed, trying to comfort me with a dismissive tone. “A wedding is just a performance anyway. As long as we get the legal marriage license, we’re good.” “Besides, once Lily is done with her little experience, you can always walk the aisle again.” With that, he turned around without a second glance. The convoy of dozens of luxury sports cars roared to life, speeding away and leaving me in a cloud of dust. I closed my eyes, fighting back the lump in my throat. It had been like this ever since we started planning the wedding. Just because Lily was “anti-marriage” and would never have a wedding of her own in the future. So, she had to try on my wedding dress first. She had to pick the wedding venue. And now, she even got to “experience” my own wedding ceremony first. The traffic light turned red ahead, but the wedding convoy sped up, leaving my Uber far behind in the distance. My driver gripped the steering wheel, glancing at me through the rearview mirror, and called out. “Where to now, miss?” I stared at the empty road where the tail lights of the luxury cars had vanished. I forced a faint smile at the driver. “Don’t worry about the venue. Please turn around.” Whether it was a wedding or a man, I had no interest in using something that had already been used and “experienced” by someone else.

My voice fell right into the silence between songs playing on the car radio. The air in the car quieted down for a few seconds. The driver was stunned. He leaned back slightly, his voice rising in disbelief. “What did you say? Turn around?” I gently rubbed the fabric of my wedding dress. I unlocked my phone. On my lock screen, there was our pre-wedding photo. Ethan and I were smiling so happily, looking like the perfect couple. Outside, the gossiping voices of pedestrians drifted through the cracked window. “Did you see that? That wedding convoy was insane! Maseratis, Porsches… dozens of luxury cars!” “They say the more expensive the wedding cars, the more blessed the bride is. The groom must be head over heels in love with her.” My fingers trembled slightly. Another passerby sighed. “Well, different people, different fates. I just came from the Grand Plaza Hotel, and I literally saw a bride arriving in an Uber.” “No way… That’s so embarrassing…” My phone screen went black. I squeezed the hem of my dress, wrinkling the delicate lace. I swallowed the bitterness in my throat and repeated clearly. “Yes.” “Take me back to my hotel. I’m not getting married anymore.” The countdown ended, and the red light turned green. A horn honked impatiently behind us. The driver swallowed whatever questions he had left. He quickly spun the steering wheel, making a sharp U-turn. As the car smoothed out on the road, my phone buzzed. It was a message from Ethan. “I told the convoy to speed up on purpose so you couldn’t keep up. Don’t try to chase us.” “Tell your driver to take it slow. Don’t arrive at the hotel at the same time as Lily. She hates it when people steal her spotlight.” “Also, enter through the back door near the kitchen later. Lily is sensitive. If people see you entering the main ballroom at the same time as her, it’ll be hard for her to explain.” It was rare for Ethan to send me such a long message. From her feelings to her reputation, every single word was carefully thought out for Lily. But just a moment ago, when he dragged me out of my own wedding car in front of everyone and forced me into an Uber, he never once considered if people would gossip about me. He never thought about whether I would lose my dignity. I opened the chat box and slowly typed out. “I’m calling off the wedding. Do whatever you want.” Just as I was about to press send, notifications started popping up frantically at the top of my screen. It was the Snapchat group chat with Ethan’s friends. Ever since they added me, the group had been dead silent. But suddenly, it was blowing up. “Lily: Being a bride for a day.” Dozens of photos instantly flooded the chat. They were taken inside the wedding limo. Lily was clinging to Ethan, posing for countless intimate couple photos. Making finger hearts, pressing their cheeks together… My gaze lingered on the last photo for a long time. In the photo, Ethan had his head resting in the palm of Lily’s hand, smiling with pure, gentle adoration. I had shown him this exact pose before our photoshoot, using a reference picture. At the time, he had scoffed, saying it was cheesy and childish. The replies in the group chat started rolling in immediately. “Honestly, you two are the ultimate soulmates. I’ve been shipping you guys since we were kids, and it’s finally happening!” That was Logan, Ethan’s childhood best friend. He had once told me how grateful he was that I healed Ethan’s broken heart after Lily went abroad. He said we were a match made in heaven. “If I knew it was you two getting married today, I wouldn’t have skipped the reception! I couldn’t stand watching that boring rebound girl take advantage of Lily being away. Is it too late to buy a plane ticket and fly back now?” That was Tyler, Ethan’s cousin. Once, Ethan asked me to deliver some important documents he forgot at home. It was pouring rain that day, and my car skidded and hit a light pole. When I limped into his office to deliver them, Tyler almost cried, saying those documents were for a multi-million-dollar project and that I was his savior. And then there were Ethan’s other cousins, college roommates, old classmates… Ethan had introduced me to every single person in this group. When we met in person, they were always polite and nice. But behind my back, they degraded and insulted me without mercy. Calling me a plain-jane, a desperate clinger, an opportunist… Then, Ethan sent a message, completely unfazed. “Don’t talk about her. Just focus on how beautiful Lily looks today.” My hands shook with rage as I typed furiously. “Are you guys serious?” “Do you all disgust yourselves, or is it just me?” The moment my message popped up, the group chat fell dead silent for two seconds. The last message sent was. “Oh shit, guys, wrong group chat.”

Before I could type anything else, Ethan’s name flashed across my screen. He was calling me, fast and urgent. I pressed answer. There was no apology, no explanation. Only two cold words. “Apologize now.” A wave of absurdity washed over me. “Me? Apologize?” I almost laughed out loud from sheer anger. “What am I apologizing for? For you guys talking trash about me behind my back? Or for the fact that you created a separate group chat just to exclude me after adding me to this one?” The line went silent for a few seconds. Then, I heard Ethan let out a weary, frustrated sigh. “Hazel, you’re not a hundred-dollar bill. You can’t expect everyone to love you.” “The people in that group grew up with Lily and me. You’re a new addition, so it’s normal if some of them don’t accept you right away. Lily was trying to be respectful by adding you to the group in the first place.” I tilted my head back, forcing the tears back. “So what?” Ethan paused, his voice dropping a fraction. “Just apologize in the group. Say you don’t mind the jokes.” “Lily is… she’s crying really hard right now. She feels incredibly guilty. She thinks this is all her fault for adding you to the chat.” My chest felt like it had been pierced by a gaping hole, letting the cold wind howl through. So, just because Lily cried, I had to bow my head and apologize to the very people who had just humiliated me. He kept talking, but I couldn’t hear a word after that. Tears blurred my vision, and I choked out. “Ethan, we’re done.” “The wedding is off. And we are never getting that marriage license.” Ethan didn’t answer. Someone muffled the phone speaker on his end. I could faintly hear the rustle of clothes, tissues, and Lily’s soft sobbing. And then, Ethan’s patient, gentle cooing. “Hey, don’t cry. Hazel said she doesn’t blame you. She’s just being overly sensitive.” “Wipe your tears. You’re about to go on stage. Didn’t you say you wanted to look perfect for the photos?” It took a while before the other side quieted down. Ethan’s voice came through clearly again, dripping with annoyance. “Alright, hurry up and apologize in the group. We’re literally getting married today, why are you throwing a tantrum now? I don’t have time to baby you on our wedding day.” Remembering what I had just said, he let out a scoff. “Besides, call off the wedding? Like you’d actually be willing to do that.” Ten years of being together. He was entirely convinced I would never leave him. I hung up. I slid over to the side of the seat and rolled down the window. I let the harsh wind ruin my hair and makeup, which had taken three hours to perfect. The Uber driver, who had heard the entire conversation, looked like he wanted to say something. Finally, he couldn’t help himself. “What kind of guy is that? How did a jerk like him even get a girl like you?” “Back when I married my wife, I treated her like a queen. I literally carried her over the threshold.” Carried? A faint ache spread through my chest. Ethan used to carry me, too. During our sophomore year, a massive blizzard hit the campus. The snow was knee-deep, and classes were canceled. I had a fever of 104 degrees. My roommates were panicking, trying to cool me down with frozen towels, crying because they didn’t know what to do. It was Ethan who broke into the girls’ dorm, picked me up, and carried me on his back to the campus hospital three miles away. Through my hazy consciousness, I remembered how he was shivering, slipping and falling in the snow over and over again. But I was warm. I didn’t feel the wind at all. Because he had taken off his only heavy winter coat to wrap around me. In the end, he suffered severe exhaustion and frostbite. Back then, his love was so real that even the freezing blizzard couldn’t hide it. The driver shook his head in disbelief after hearing my story. “How does a guy go from that to… this?” I stared out the window in silence. I didn’t know. Or maybe, I did. He changed the moment Lily came back to the country. The first time he lost his temper and shattered our matching couple cups was because of Lily. The first time he left me stranded at my office in the middle of a thunderstorm until midnight was because he went to pick up Lily. The first time I had to undergo surgery, he was at an amusement park riding roller coasters with Lily. Ever since Lily announced she was anti-marriage, Ethan seemed to find the perfect excuse to openly show her favoritism. Countless “first times,” countless compromises. They all piled up until, before I knew it, we ended up here. When I left the Snapchat group, Ethan sent me a single question mark. And then, nothing. To him, this was just another one of my silent protests. He believed that in no time, I would crawl back, apologize, and beg for his forgiveness. But this time, I was truly exhausted.

Under the pitying and surprised gaze of the receptionist, I dragged my heavy gown back to my hotel room. I washed off my makeup and struggled out of the wedding dress. Collapsing onto the bed, I stared at the blank white ceiling, feeling completely detached. How did everything fall apart so fast? Just last night, in this very bed, I was too excited to sleep. I opened my phone. Lily had just posted on her Instagram. “Just to make sure certain people don’t get triggered again, here’s a quick video for everyone! This is purely a fun practice run. Ethan and I did absolutely nothing out of line!” The video was a clip of the ceremony. Like a masochist, I clicked play. I watched Lily, dressed in a gorgeous white gown, walking gracefully toward Ethan amidst the applause of friends and family. They stood before the officiant, vowing to never part, until death do them part. Then they exchanged rings, locking their fingers together. I let out a bitter, hollow laugh. They did everything except kiss. And yet, they had the nerve to tell me they didn’t cross any lines. Lily’s Instagram updates came fast and furious. They showed her raising a glass to his parents, receiving welcome-to-the-family checks, pouring the champagne tower, and listening to the parental speeches… Without realizing it, they had gone far beyond the “simple walk down the aisle” Ethan had promised me. Only after the bouquet toss did Ethan finally send me a lazy text. “Are you at the hotel? Wait in the dressing room for a bit. Lily was having so much fun, so she ended up doing the rest of the ceremony too.” “Don’t be mad. Just think of this as your apology for making her cry earlier.” The dressing room was literally two doors down from the main ballroom. Yet, he didn’t even bother to walk over and check on me. I didn’t reply. Instead, I took a screenshot from the corner of Lily’s video. It was a picture of a smashed, ruined wedding cake. I sent it to him. “Why did you let her touch my cake?” “It’s just a cake, Hazel. Don’t make a big deal out of it. I’ll have the hotel buy another one.” I bit my lip until it went pale. “Did you forget everything you promised me?” Why? Why did my heart still hurt so much when I was already this disappointed? My dream wedding dress, which I had visited over a dozen boutiques to find, was ruined when Lily secretly tried it on and ripped the seams. Ethan said, “It’s just a dress, let’s get another one.” The beautiful garden chapel I had picked was secretly changed by Lily into a fantasy-themed indoor ballroom. Ethan said, “Let’s go with her choice, she has better taste.” Near the end of the wedding planning, my only demand was that I make the wedding cake myself. As a pastry chef, this was my ultimate dream. Back then, Lily hadn’t returned to the country yet. Ethan had stood in front of my newly opened bakery, gently pinching my nose. “My girl is so easy to please.” “Fine. On our wedding day, I’ll personally make sure every single guest finishes their slice and writes a 500-word review for our master chef.” I had laughed and thrown myself into his arms. “Shut up!” I kept rewinding the video, watching that short clip. The cake I had spent days preparing at the hotel kitchen was hacked into pieces. Before I could even have a single bite, Lily had smashed a handful of it onto the face of one of Ethan’s friends. The crowd roared with laughter, playfully smearing frosting all over each other. My dream was trampled to the ground, smeared on the walls, and thrown into the trash. Ethan’s reply paused for a few seconds. When the next message popped up, it stabbed right into my heart. “Hazel, don’t be so ungrateful.” “It’s just a cake. Why are you being so petty? None of your family members even showed up today. Lily had to ask her own friends to be your bridesmaids just to save you some face.” The old scar was ripped wide open. I tapped my screen so hard it almost cracked. “Why my parents refused to come? Aren’t you the one who knows why best?!” He went silent. The pain I had buried deep inside rushed back, settling heavy in my lower abdomen. I remembered that day. The floor covered in bright red blood. The tearing, agonizing pain. In my panic, I had dialed the number of the person I trusted most. The moment the call went through, a loud, bratty female voice shrieked on the other end. “Hey, Mr. Busy Man! You promised to spend the whole day with me today! Turn off your phone, no taking calls!” Then came the loud music of the amusement park parade, followed by a sharp click. He hung up on me. And I lost my baby.

When I woke up, I was lying in a hospital bed. The first person I saw wasn’t Ethan, but my roommate. She was the one who found me passed out on the living room floor after work, rushed me to the ER, and signed the consent form for the emergency surgery. At that time, we had known each other for less than a month, yet she took the risk to sign those papers for me. Meanwhile, my fiancé had hung up on my emergency call to watch a parade with his female best friend. The doctor looked at me with deep sympathy. “It was a threatened miscarriage. If you had been brought in just thirty minutes earlier, we might have saved the baby.” A suffocating despair had consumed me. I called Ethan dozens of times. But I waited until nightfall, and the only people who arrived were my parents, who had driven hundreds of miles. Ethan, who was only three miles away at the theme park with Lily, never showed up. That day, I was completely heartbroken. I packed my bags and went home with my parents. Remembering this, I opened the chat with my cousin, Mia. Before the wedding, she had messaged me. “Hazel, is the wedding starting?” A few minutes later, she added. “Don’t be too sad. Even though Uncle and Aunt didn’t let us attend, they actually regret it.” “I know you guys will patch things up eventually.” She had sent me a video. Looking at my parents on the thumbnail, I hadn’t had the courage to open it before. But now, my hands shook as I pressed play. In the video, my parents’ eyes were red. My mom was wiping her tears. “Why is Hazel so stubborn? We told her that man is trash.” “What kind of man abandons his fiancé during a miscarriage to play with another woman?” “And what happened? He knelt in the snow for one night, got himself hospitalized, made some empty promise, and her heart softened immediately.” My dad held his coffee mug, staring silently at the floor. My mom slapped his arm in frustration. “You too! Why did you have to say such harsh things? Saying you’d disown her if she married him.” “Now look what happened. Our girl actually ran away.” Looking at the new gray hairs on my parents’ heads, my tears dripped onto the screen. After a long silence, my dad took a credit card from his wallet and handed it to Mia. “Mia, give this to Hazel when you have time.” “There’s fifty thousand dollars on it. Don’t let her struggle out there.” The emotions I had suppressed all day finally exploded. I covered my face, sobbing uncontrollably until my throat went dry and hoarse. Only one thought remained in my mind. I wanted to go home. I didn’t care about packing neatly. I threw everything into my suitcase. I couldn’t even wait for the flight next morning. I booked a long-distance Uber for two thousand dollars to take me straight home. Just as I zipped my suitcase, Ethan called. “Why aren’t you replying to my Snapchats?” I didn’t answer. He clicked his tongue, his tone casual and dismissive. “We accidentally got a bit carried away, and the decorations in the main ballroom got kind of ruined.” “I had the hotel set up a smaller room. We’ll do our vows there.” The main ballroom was ten thousand square feet. The small room was barely one thousand. The girl who was “experiencing” the wedding got the grand ballroom, while the actual bride was relegated to a tiny side room. In Ethan’s mouth, it sounded as simple as moving a parking spot. But I was too tired to care. I replied quietly, “Okay.” Hearing no complaints or tears, Ethan was taken aback. Once he realized I wasn’t fighting back, he let out a sigh of relief. “Good girl.” “The hotel is setting it up now. I also ordered an identical wedding cake from another bakery.” He paused, his voice softening with a rare touch of tenderness. “Hazel, you’re about to become my wife.” “The ceremony starts at nine. Make sure you’re there on time.” The call ended. I slipped the diamond ring off my ring finger and left it carelessly on the hotel nightstand. Then, I turned around and got into the Uber heading home.

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When Ethan’s little secretary booked a divorce filing appointment instead of our marriage license appointment for the 99th time, I stormed straight into his office. “Ethan, is this the high standard of an Ivy League graduate you kept bragging about?” “If she can’t even handle a simple booking, fire her immediately!” Ethan looked up from a stack of documents, glanced at my phone, and spoke in a flat voice. “I’ve told you before, a top-tier graduate like her isn’t meant for doing menial chores.” “If you had spent the time you used to throw this tantrum to do it yourself, it would have been booked already.” He didn’t even look up again after saying that. Without another word, I turned and walked out of the office. [Dad, I don’t want Ethan anymore.] Ethan had no idea that the only reason he got to sit in the heir’s seat of the Vance family was because of our family-arranged marriage. Once this alliance was canceled, there were plenty of people in the Vance family ready to take his place.

My dad sighed on the other end of the line, only telling me to think it through before making a final decision. But I knew there was no going back for Ethan and me this time. I stared at the 99 notifications of divorce filing appointments on my phone. “It was just an honest mistake. I’ll tell her to pay more attention next time.” “She has a lot on her plate. It’s normal to make mistakes sometimes.” “Don’t be so hard on a young girl. I’ve already warned her.” Every single mistake was met with his excuses. Behind every single notification was Ethan’s endless indulgence of his secretary, Stella Montgomery. My eyes burned, and my heart felt like it was being pricked by a thousand needles. Just as I put my phone away, Ethan rushed out of his office. “You bothered both our parents just over a petty issue like this?” “Chloe, when will you finally grow out of this princess syndrome?” Ethan frowned, his voice dripping with accusation. I was about to snap back when my hand suddenly felt heavy. Someone had grabbed me. I looked back. It was Stella. “Chloe, I swear I didn’t do it on purpose.” “The website keeps glitching. I could have sworn I clicked ‘marriage registration’!” “I’ll book it again for you and Ethan right now. I promise I won’t mess up this time.” Stella’s face was slumped, her voice trembling with sheer grievance. She pulled out her phone and started tapping on the screen, sniffing softly every now and then. The pity in Ethan’s eyes was practically overflowing. Stella held her phone up, showing me the booking interface. “No need.” My face was cold as I tried to push her phone away. Her hand trembled, and her finger swiped across the screen. The page shifted. In that brief split second, I saw a selfie of Ethan and her, their faces pressed close together. I grabbed her wrist. She instantly let go. With a loud clatter, the phone hit the floor and shattered into pieces. Everyone in the office turned to look at us, but no one dared to make a sound. Only Stella started crying even louder, wailing: “Ethan… my mom’s voice notes were on that phone. It’s the only memory I have left of her before she passed away…” “What do I do? What do I do? It’s completely broken now…” Ethan’s heart broke for her. He pulled her into his arms, gently comforting her. I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. My mind was flooded with that intimate photo. Ethan claimed to have camera phobia. We didn’t even have a single photo together. He wouldn’t even take pre-wedding photos with me, yet he had so many intimate pictures with another woman. Suppressing the urge to explode right there, I turned to leave. But Ethan wouldn’t let me. “You think you can just walk away after breaking her things?” “Didn’t you hear her? Those were the last voice notes from her deceased mother!” “Chloe, can’t you at least show some basic decency and apologize?” The tenderness in Ethan’s eyes was completely gone, replaced by pure disgust. “Me? Apologize?” “Does she even deserve it?” I forced myself to look him in the eye, though my heart was already shattered into a million pieces. Ethan’s expression grew colder, his words like ice. “If you don’t apologize today, we are not getting married!” The employees in the office gasped, eagerly watching the drama unfold. Ethan had said things like this many times before. Every single time, it was for Stella, and every single time, I was the one who backed down. Ethan and I had been together for ten years. I had chosen him when we were kids. I had dreamed of marrying him for as long as I could remember. But now, the dream was shattered. It was time to wake up. “Fine.” “Let’s not get married then.” Ethan’s hands dropped to his sides, a flash of shock crossing his dark eyes. Without waiting for him to say anything else, I turned and walked out of the building. “Ethan, go after Chloe and comfort her. I’m fine…” “There’s no need to comfort her. She’ll regret this and come crawling back within three days!” Ethan’s dismissive voice echoed behind me. I took a deep breath, forcing my tears back. Ethan had no idea. This time, I wouldn’t regret it. In fact, I was already planning to replace the groom. It was just a marriage, right? What difference did it make who the groom was? That night, Stella’s Snapchat feed blew up. [Who would have thought that right after grad school, I’d find the best boss ever! 💖] The post was accompanied by photos of a five-star Michelin restaurant, the latest iPhone, and a screenshot of a wire transfer of $131,420. The last photo was of Ethan, carefully cutting up a steak and handing it to Stella.

I stared at those three photos over and over again. The more I looked, the more our ten years together felt like a complete joke. In ten years, he had never bought me a single meaningful gift, let alone wired me a single cent. “What’s mine is yours anyway. Wiring money back and forth is pointless,” he used to say. Yet now, he was throwing over a hundred thousand dollars at her without a second thought. Whenever we went out to eat, he would sit there like a king, waiting for me to prepare everything before he would even open his mouth. Every time I asked to take a photo, he refused without fail. But now, Stella got everything I had ever wanted. And she didn’t even have to try. My vision blurred, and the tears finally spilled over. Ding-dong. The doorbell rang. I opened the door to find a delivery man. “Hi, I’m here to deliver the wedding albums.” “I never took any wedding photos.” “That’s impossible. This is Ethan Vance’s residence, right?” I nodded. The delivery man insisted there was no mistake. He carried in several boxes, both large and small. After he left, my hands shook as I tore open the cardboard boxes. The wedding photos featured Ethan and Stella. They had shot eight different concepts. Ethan had accompanied her through countless outfit changes, the bright smile on his face incredibly piercing. These photos stabbed right into my chest. Just as I looked up, Ethan walked through the door, supporting a drunken Stella. “Give me a hand. She’s wasted.” Ethan was so used to ordering me around that he had probably forgotten about our fight at the office. I didn’t move. I pointed at the pile of trash behind me. “I’ll give you five minutes to get this garbage out of my house.” “Including her.” I pointed directly at Stella, whose face was flushed red as she clung to Ethan. “There’s no need to speak so harshly.” “These wedding photos were shot for Stella’s mom. Her mom wanted to see her get married before she passed away.” “It was just to make a dying old lady happy. Why do you have to be so petty?” Stella nodded with teary eyes. “I just wanted my mom to go in peace.” “I put my own address for the delivery, I don’t know how they got sent to Ethan’s place.” “Please don’t be mad. It’s not Ethan’s fault…” Stella sobbed, her words always so full of innocence. It made me look like a bitter, unreasonable villain standing across from them. “An Ivy League graduate can’t even put down her own address correctly?” “Is your brain filled with water?” “Fine. Since you two can’t bear to throw this trash away, I will.” I turned around, grabbed a pair of scissors, and began shredding the wedding posters and albums. I picked up the glass frames and smashed them onto the floor, then cut the photos to pieces one by one. “No!” “Chloe, I can take those with me!” Stella rushed forward with her bare hands to stop me. My scissors ended up slicing right across her hand. A sharp scream instantly sobered Ethan up. He furiously shoved me aside. I lost my balance and fell backward, the shattered glass on the floor digging deep into my palms. “Chloe, have you lost your mind?!” “Smashed things, breaking frames, hurting people—do you even have an ounce of decency left in you?” “Stella’s mother just passed away! You lost your mother too, can’t you have some empathy and be a little kinder to her?!” Ethan’s words pierced straight through my heart. My mother’s death was my greatest regret. When my mom passed away, Ethan and I were studying abroad. Due to the strict travel bans at the time, we couldn’t make it back to see her one last time. I had to say goodbye to my mother through a screen. To this day, I still wake up crying in the middle of the night. Ethan knew all of this. Yet, he chose to use my dead mother to hurt me, all for the sake of Stella. Without looking back, Ethan picked Stella up and left. I looked down at the bleeding cuts on my palm, the bitterness in my heart overflowing. “Mom, the man you chose for me is rotten.” “I don’t want him anymore.” The silent living room offered no reply.

My mother had always adored Ethan. She and Ethan’s mother were best friends, and they had arranged our engagement when we were still kids. My relationship with Ethan was supposed to be a natural path. That was why, when the Vance family was choosing their heir, my dad risked our entire family fortune to help Ethan win his high-stakes venture capital funding round. At twenty years old, Ethan climbed to the top using my family as a stepping stone, securing a hundred-million-dollar deal. Later, when my mom was dying, Ethan knelt in front of the camera and promised her, word for word: “Auntie, don’t worry. I will make Chloe the happiest woman in the world.” Later, we finished our studies and returned home, and our wedding was put on the agenda. But everything changed in the beginning of this year when Stella joined the company as an intern. The train of our relationship suddenly derailed. As his secretary, Stella would often call and text Ethan in the middle of the night. Once, we were in bed together when her call came. Ethan didn’t even pull up his pants before answering it. I had my suspicions, and I had checked his phone. But I found nothing. The first time I met Stella, she was sitting in Ethan’s passenger seat. That day was supposed to be the day we got our marriage license. Before we could even enter the courthouse, Ethan was called away by a phone call from Stella. I didn’t even have time to ask what happened. I waited until the courthouse closed. Later, when Ethan drove back to pick me up, Stella saw me and sensibly got out of the passenger seat to sit in the back. “If it weren’t for Ethan’s help today, my mother wouldn’t even have gotten into the hospital.” “Chloe, I am so sorry. I didn’t know you guys were getting your marriage license today.” “I’ll handle the booking for you next time!” I had heard about her taking care of her terminally ill mother all by herself, and my empathy got the best of me. My suspicions about Ethan and her dissipated. But the repeated “glitches” and wrong bookings made me re-examine their relationship. Ethan’s defense of her became more and more blatant, even humiliating me in public. I finally realized that under the guise of sympathy, Ethan had given her his love. After getting my hands bandaged at the hospital, I went back home. As soon as I walked in, I smelled food. Ethan was busy in the kitchen. He froze for a second when he saw me, holding a bowl of soup. “Take this soup to Stella and apologize to her. Let’s just put this behind us.” Before I could refuse, Ethan shoved the hot bowl into my bandaged hands. Seeing my wrapped hands, he spoke with a hint of disdain. “Stop playing the victim.” “Chloe, honestly, you should spend more time reading books and refining your manners.” “Compared to Stella, you really lack class.” The burns on my hands stung painfully, but it was nothing compared to the ache in my chest. Right in front of Ethan, I poured the hot soup onto the floor. The bowl shattered, splashing the hot liquid everywhere. I shrugged. “Ethan, if you have time, go get your brain and eyes checked.” “I don’t need to compare myself to her.” Ethan’s jaw clenched, his eyes burning with rage. “Chloe, how could you do that?!” “Ethan made that soup himself!” I turned to look at Stella, who was leaning against the doorframe. “You want some?” Stella stared at me blankly. Before she could react, I grabbed her by the hair. “Since Ethan made it himself, we shouldn’t let it go to waste.” “Drink it all!” I slammed her face down toward the spilled soup on the floor. Stella struggled, pawing at the floor and whimpering. Ethan kicked me hard in the back, tearing me away and pulling her into his chest. “Chloe, you’re a absolute psycho!” I ignored Ethan’s roaring curses behind me and walked back to my room. Staring at the blood seeping through my bandages, the tears finally fell. Standing by the window, I dialed the number my dad had given me. “Tomorrow at 1:00 PM at the courthouse. Does that work for you?” The man on the other end seemed to be in a meeting. He gave a soft, low affirmation. “I’ll have my assistant clear the schedule.” Shortly after hanging up, I received a confirmation for our marriage appointment. Amid the 99 notifications of divorce filings, this single marriage booking was exceptionally clear. It turned out booking a wedding was actually this simple. “Who were you on the phone with so late?” Ethan suddenly pushed the door open, his eyes falling on the bloody bandages on the floor. “You’re actually hurt?”

A flash of regret crossed Ethan’s eyes. He walked over and gently inspected my palms. “I didn’t know it was this bad.” “Why didn’t you say anything?” Ethan grabbed some fresh bandages to dress my wounds. His gentle, meticulous touch made me feel dazed. Ever since we started fighting over Stella, he hadn’t treated me like this in a very long time. Between us, there had been nothing but hostility and sarcasm. When you’ve bottled up so much pain, a sudden moment of care can completely break you. In that instant, I cried hysterically. Ethan held me close, patting my back and whispering comforts. “Okay, okay, don’t cry anymore.” “I know I’ve been ignoring you lately, which made you so emotional.” “It’s all over now. Once I accompany Stella back to her hometown to finish her mother’s funeral, we’ll get married, okay?” My crying stopped instantly. So, his sudden care was only for this. And here I was, naively believing he actually cared about my feelings and realized his mistakes. This time, I didn’t throw a fit. “Okay.” Ethan let go of me, his eyes filled with pleasant surprise. “That’s my good girl!” Ethan wrapped his arms around me, kissing me eagerly. His hands slid down my thigh, his breath growing hot and heavy against my ear. He pinned me down, closing his eyes to kiss me. I turned my head away. “I’m not in the mood.” The passion instantly drained from him. He got off the bed, pulled up his pants, and turned to leave. “I’m going to take a shower. Go to sleep.” I stayed awake the entire night. Even through the wall, I could hear Stella’s giggles and whispers. It was agonizing. The next morning, the house was empty. I knew Ethan had taken Stella to her hometown for the funeral. After packing up my belongings, I left the house keys and my engagement ring on the coffee table. As the front door clicked shut, Ethan and I were officially over. At 1:00 PM, I arrived at the courthouse. A black Maybach pulled up smoothly in front of me. A man in a dark grey suit stepped out. “Let’s go. I only have ten minutes.” I nodded and turned to walk inside. “Watch out!” Julian Vance’s voice rang out, and I was suddenly pulled into a solid chest. A heavy flowerpot crashed and shattered right where I had been standing a second ago. I looked up at Julian, my heart skipping a beat. “You’re still the same as when you were a kid, never looking where you’re walking.” Julian let go of my waist, took my hand, and led me into the courthouse. Within ten minutes, we had our marriage certificate. Julian had an urgent meeting, so he had his driver take me to his villa. Staring at the marriage certificate, I felt completely dazed. “How is he? That’s the man I chose for you. He’ll never let you down.” My dad called to check in, his voice full of pride. Ever since I decided to leave Ethan, my dad had been looking for a suitable marriage alliance for me. Julian was a major business partner of his, making him the perfect choice. “Yeah. He’s a million times better than Ethan.” My eyes caught Stella’s latest post on Snapchat. [Thank you for being there for me, making the loss of my mother bearable. ] The picture was a scenic view of her hometown. I knew she was talking about Ethan, and seeing Ethan’s ‘like’ on the post stung my heart. Ethan had never liked a single one of my social media posts. On the day my mother died, he was busy with his classes and didn’t offer me much comfort. The promise he made to my dying mother was nothing more than a performance. With a bitter smile, I tapped ‘like’ on Stella’s post. In the elevator, Ethan pulled out his phone. When he saw my ‘like’, he froze. He turned to Stella. “Did you use my phone to like her post?” Stella’s face flushed as she stammered, unable to give a straight answer. Ethan stared at my ‘like’, a sudden panic washing over him. The next second, a red dot appeared on his feed, indicating a new post. It was my marriage announcement. [Turns out getting married isn’t that hard after all. ] The photo was of my marriage certificate. [Who did you marry?] A text message popped up. I glanced at it and immediately blocked him. [Stop playing games.] [Marriage is a serious matter. Do you think this is a joke?] TThe messages he tried to send back were met with red exclamation marks. Standing in front of the villa door, Ethan froze completely.

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I had just clocked out of work in the early hours of the morning when I received a hotel pin drop on Snapchat from my best friend, Serena. I thought she wanted to hang out or grab a late-night drink. But when I pushed the hotel room door open, I saw Serena and my fiancé, Ethan, wrapped in the sheets together. It felt like a lightning strike. I went completely numb. “Serena, you’re sleeping with my fiancé? And you invited me to watch?” Serena just smiled at me. “Chloe, I’m just giving him a test drive for you before the wedding.” My fiancé, Ethan, pulled on his pants while trying to soothe me. “Don’t you want to wait until the wedding night? Serena said I might have issues, so she wanted to inspect the goods for you first.” I gritted my teeth and forced a smile. “And? How was the inspection?” Serena pinched Ethan’s abs playfully. “Works great. Best friend approved. You can marry him with peace of mind!” There were only two weeks left until the wedding, and they ended up “inspecting” each other eighteen more times at that hotel. On the day of the wedding, Ethan, dressed in his tuxedo, was waiting to receive the bride. But he waited and waited, and I never showed up. Serena got anxious too and called me on Snapchat, demanding answers. “Chloe, you’re thirty minutes late! Did you forget today is your wedding? Where the hell are you?” “Your husband is waiting for you. He looks so pathetic, it breaks my heart.” She joked half-seriously, “If you don’t show up soon, I’m going to marry him instead.” “Go ahead.” I sneered, glancing at the handsome man standing across from me, exchanging rings. I spoke slowly: “I’m already married. Oh, by the way, you should call me Aunt Chloe now.”

The other side went dead silent for two seconds. Serena didn’t believe me. Her laughter came through the phone. “Chloe, are you still asleep? What kind of nonsense is that?” “I’m literally at your wedding venue right now. Your groom is right under my nose. Who could you possibly be marrying?” It sounded like she slapped someone. A loud smack echoed over the receiver. Ethan gasped in pain. “Serena! You dare smack my ass while you’re on the phone with my wife? You’re playing with fire.” “If my wife gets jealous and refuses to marry me, you’ll pay for this!” Serena’s voice was teasing and thick with flirting. “Pay for what? Tonight is your wedding night with Chloe. I won’t be waiting for you at the hotel tonight.” As soon as she said that, a burst of laughter erupted from their friends around her. “What wedding night? You three should just sleep together!” “Yeah! Serena is the maid of honor anyway, they practically share everything. I’m sure Chloe wouldn’t mind.” “Honestly, Ethan, you should just marry them both today…” Ethan laughed and kicked the speaker playfully. “Alright, that’s enough. My wife is listening.” He grabbed the phone from Serena, his voice turning sweet. “Chloe, don’t mind them. They’re just messing around.” “Why aren’t you here yet? Did you oversleep? Hurry up, the guests are going to arrive soon…” I replied calmly, “Are you brainless, or just deaf?” “I already told you. I am married. The groom isn’t you.” “Don’t call me again. My husband will get angry.” Before Ethan could reply, I heard the sound of his phone dropping, and I hung up. The world was finally quiet. I looked back at my own wedding. The roses, the decorations—everything was styled exactly to my taste. Across from me, Marcus looked at me with burning intensity. “Chloe, are you absolutely sure about this? You really want to marry me?” “Don’t do this just to get revenge. Once we exchange these rings, there’s no turning back.” I smiled and held his hand without a second thought. “If I regret it, I’m a fool.” The marriage officiant continued. Just as we were about to exchange rings, my phone rang again. I frowned and silenced it. But it rang again immediately. Marcus smiled and handed me the phone. “Answer it. We have time. I don’t want another man constantly blowing up my wife’s phone.”

I had no choice but to pick up. Ethan’s voice was anxious and annoyed. “Chloe, what kind of tantrum are you throwing?” “What was that lie about marrying someone else? I’m standing right here. Who could you marry?” “Look around. Everyone in our social circle knows you’re my fiancée!” “We’ve been engaged for years, and our families are waiting. Stop messing around and get over here right now.” I listened silently to his entitled rant. Yes. Everyone knew he was my fiancé. We had been together since college. It had been nearly ten years. But ten years of history meant nothing compared to his one-night stand with Serena. All because, after getting drunk a few times, he tried to strip my clothes off, kissing me flushed and breathless. “Chloe, give yourself to me…” I refused. Ever since then, whenever the topic came up, he became obsessive and passive-aggressive. Once, we had a massive fight over a trivial matter. Ethan lost his mind and screamed at me: “Chloe, ask yourself honestly, do you even love me?” “Other couples hold hands and kiss in the first week, and they’re in bed by the second! Look at you. It’s been ten years, and you won’t even let me touch you…” “What century are we living in? What is wrong with you?” “If you really love me, shouldn’t you naturally want to get close to me? Why do you act like touching me is repulsive?” Even though my eyes were red, I explained it to him over and over again. “I love you, but this is my boundary.” He knew exactly why. My mother’s dying wish was for me to save myself for my husband. She had been tricked by a sweet-talking player, got pregnant with me, and suffered her entire life. She didn’t want me to repeat her mistake. But during all of this, my “best friend” Serena had been playing the supportive sister. She would roll her eyes in anger right in front of me. “What an asshole! Throwing a fit just because he can’t get into your pants? Chloe, listen to me, do not tolerate his behavior!” I listened to her. I just didn’t expect that the moment I turned my back, they would end up in bed together. And they had the audacity to call it a “test drive.” I was pulled back to reality by the hysterical voice on the other end. “Ethan, save your breath. I don’t care anymore.” “Today is my wedding day, and I don’t want to waste my time talking to you. If there’s nothing else, I’m hanging up.” Ethan quickly interrupted: “Chloe!” “What are you actually mad about? I’ll apologize however you want, just tell me. Today is our wedding. Do you want to humiliate me in front of everyone?” “And… is this about last night? I told you, I drank too much and fell asleep. I didn’t see your calls.” I couldn’t help but sneer. Fell asleep? Or were you busy sleeping with someone else? Ethan had no idea that I had installed a spyware app on his phone long ago. I heard him talking to his frat boys: “Tomorrow, I’m a married man. Tonight is my bachelor party, and I’m going to wild out.” Someone asked him: “Hey Ethan, are you still going to the hotel with Chloe’s bestie for some pre-marital action?” “Obviously,” Ethan replied, his voice dripping with arrogance. “Serena has a killer body and is totally wild. To be honest, if she weren’t Chloe’s friend, I wouldn’t even want to get married. I’d hate to lose access to a catch like her…” I sneered silently. Serena snatched the phone back and asked, “Chloe, jokes aside, this is your wedding. If you keep delaying, people aren’t going to wait forever.” She had no idea I had already eloped with her uncle. “You should call me Aunt Chloe now.” Serena obviously didn’t believe me. When we were on good terms, we always joked like this to tease each other. She thought “Aunt Chloe” was just me playing along. “Chloe, honestly, which young pretty boy did you run off with?” “Don’t play too hard. Your fiancé is actually pretty good. I’ve already tested him for you. If you don’t hurry up, another woman might snatch him.” “Though, honestly, I’m kind of sad he’s marrying you. I won’t get to touch those abs anymore…” “But hey, that just makes it more thrilling… Haha, you’re not mad, right? I’m just joking.” I ignored her and muted the phone. Suddenly, she sent me a barrage of videos on Snapchat—eight or nine in a row. I casually tapped one. It was Serena and Ethan drinking a toast together. Serena was wearing the wedding dress she had helped me pick out, linking arms with Ethan as they walked onto the stage. She even gave a speech as the “bride.” But she added mockingly: “Don’t get the wrong idea, everyone. I’m not the bride. I’m just her best friend!” “The bride is running late for some reason, and she’s having a little lover’s quarrel with the groom. So, I’m just stepping in to keep things running smoothly.”

Many guests in the crowd could already smell the toxicity. “The maid of honor is acting like such a snake.” “The bride is late, so the bridesmaid takes her place? Who does that?” “I study psychology. Look at their body language. There is definitely something going on between the groom and the best friend.” … The whispers were endless. Someone kept forwarding me the TikTok live streams of their wedding. But I didn’t care anymore. My wedding with Marcus proceeded smoothly. Marcus had always been a cold, detached bachelor. His parents had even begun to worry he might be secretly gay, nearly going grey with stress. My sudden appearance made the elderly couple so happy they couldn’t sleep a wink the night before. Marcus’s parents held my hands warmly, overflowing with affection. “Chloe, you are so beautiful. The moment I saw you, I knew you were meant to be my daughter-in-law. We are so lucky.” At the wedding, the two elders couldn’t stop smiling. They proudly introduced me to the guests: “Yes, this is my daughter-in-law. Beautiful, isn’t she?” “My son must have used up all his lifetime luck to marry such a wonderful wife…” I couldn’t help but look down and smile. Marcus and I had met a few times before, but not often. Because Serena and I were best friends, she had shown me photos of Marcus several times, bragging about her hot uncle. “Chloe, my uncle is five years older than me, and he is insanely hot. He easily beats any guy out there.” “If you ever get tired of your boyfriend, why don’t you try my uncle?” It was because of those words. After discovering that Serena and my fiancé had been “test-driving” each other repeatedly, I made a move on her billionaire bachelor uncle. Once the ceremony ended, Marcus and I went to City Hall to sign our marriage license. Our actual reception party was still a few days away. “Where do you want to go? I’ll take you anywhere,” Marcus said. I thought about it. “Disneyland.” It was a place I had wanted to go for the past two years. Every time I brought it up to Ethan, he would scowl and make excuses to push it off. He told me we would go after the wedding. He promised he would make me his beautiful Disney princess then. But when he said those words, he was always glued to his phone, playing video games with my best friend: “Oh, you silly girl, let me carry you in the next round.” Now I finally understood. There is no need to wait for someone who keeps making you wait. The world is huge, and there will always be someone happy to accompany you. Marcus took me to Disneyland. He treated me like a true princess, taking photos of me with endless patience and gentleness. Suddenly, a familiar giggling drifted over from nearby. “Ethan, won’t your wife be mad if she finds out you brought me here? And this ring… I’m the one who picked it out for her. Are you sure it’s okay for me to wear it?” “What’s there to worry about? You practically stood in for her at the wedding. In name, you’re basically my wife anyway.” Ethan had his arm wrapped casually around her shoulders, and they looked like they were about to kiss. Serena laughed happily, pushed him away, and pointed to a stand selling candied strawberries, demanding some. Ethan quickly bought them and handed them over. “Feed me.” Her voice was pure baby-talk. Ethan used to hate it when girls acted cute or whiny. Whenever I did it, he would scowl and call me high-maintenance. But now, he just smiled indulgently and leaned in to feed her. “No, feed me with your mouth.” And Ethan complied without hesitation. It wasn’t that he hated cute behavior. He just hated it when it came from me. Seeing me dazed, Marcus walked over. “Want some?” He had bought a skewer of candied strawberries at some point—my favorite flavor. I nodded. “Feed me.” Marcus glanced at the couple across from us, gave a knowing smile, took a bite of a strawberry, and leaned down to kiss me. In the end, the skewer fell to the ground. Marcus pinned me against a tree, kissing me with deep, intoxicating passion. But just as we were completely lost in the moment. An enraged voice roared nearby. “Stop it! Chloe, what the hell are you doing?!”

Ethan’s face went pale. He shoved Serena aside and rushed toward me. “Chloe! No wonder you ran away from our wedding and refused to marry me. You found yourself a side piece!” “Tell me, who the hell is this guy?” His face was so pale, he looked like the one who had been cheated on. “Get over here! Why are you so close to him?” Furious, he reached out to grab me. But I coldly stepped back. Unbothered, I linked my arm even tighter with Marcus’s right in front of him. “Since you’re so desperate to know, let me introduce you.” “This is my husband, Marcus.” “And as for you—” I paused and smiled. “Just an ex-boyfriend who got wrapped around our niece’s little finger.” Marcus, who had expected this, smiled warmly. “I’ve heard of you.” “But I must thank you for letting her go. Otherwise, it would have taken me a few more years to win Chloe over.” Ethan’s face twisted in embarrassment and rage. “What niece? What nonsense are you talking about?” “…Uncle Marcus?” Serena gasped from behind him, her face turning white as she stared at us. “Chloe, since when did you get together with my uncle?” She forced a laugh and tried to swat at my arm. “Stop joking. My uncle is a legendary bachelor. He doesn’t even look at women.” “Even if you are pretty, there’s no way you made my uncle melt. Chloe, playing pretend to make Ethan jealous is fine, but don’t take it too far.” Neither of them believed it. “Exactly, Chloe,” Ethan chimed in, looking like he was about to lose his mind. He glared at me, scowling. “What crap are you spewing? We haven’t even broken up. Since when am I your ex?” “And you still owe me an explanation for running away from our wedding!” “I don’t owe you anything.” After all, I was a married woman now. I felt zero possessiveness toward other men. I pulled Marcus to walk away, but Ethan grabbed my arm. “Chloe! What is wrong with you?” “First you ditch our wedding, and now you’re flirting with another man. What do you want?” He glared at Marcus with jealous, venomous eyes. “This pretty boy looks like a total player. You’re using him to put on a show, but aren’t you afraid of getting burned?” Even now, he thought I was just acting to get his attention. What an ego. My eyes fell mockingly on the red hickey on his neck. “It’s none of your business.” “I told you already, I’m married. Believe it or not.” Ethan tried to pull me closer. He sneered maliciously, “No wonder you wouldn’t let me touch you for ten years. You had someone else on the side.” “Since you love throwing yourself at other men so much, let me—” Before his hand could touch me. Marcus’s fist connected sharply with his jaw, sending him stumbling back.

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Late at night, a new post suddenly popped up on the Silvermoon Pack’s private forum. [I heard Sarah is back.] In less than a minute, the thread was flooded with dozens of replies. “Oh my god, she and Alpha Ethan… what happened back then was such a tragedy.” “If she hadn’t left to join the Ironclaw Pack, our pack would probably have an heir by now.” “Even after all these years, I still think they are the ultimate power couple.” Right then, Sarah, who had been inactive for years, finally replied. She only wrote one sentence. “Some people, once you miss them, you regret it for a lifetime.” The forum immediately exploded with ship emojis. Nobody seemed to care—or remember—that they already had a Luna. I slowly lowered my phone and looked at the man sleeping beside me. Alpha Ethan. The very man they were all mourning as “the regret of a lifetime” was currently fast asleep right next to me. The forum notifications kept lighting up my screen. [Sarah, are you staying for good this time?] Sarah replied almost instantly: [Yes. I’m not leaving again.] That single sentence set the entire forum on fire. “I still can’t believe Ethan ended up marrying a human…” “Ugh, don’t even get me started. That human Luna doesn’t even show up to pack gatherings. She’s barely a Luna.” “Now that Sarah is back, things will finally go back to how they should be. She’s the only one fit to stand beside Ethan.” “Oh my god, does this mean Sarah and Ethan might actually get back together?” Sarah didn’t confirm, but she didn’t deny it either. A few seconds later, she just posted a smiling emoji. [If it’s meant to be, we will find our way back to each other.] The comment section was instantly filled with flower and applause emojis. I quietly exited the forum and locked my phone. Beside me, Ethan was sleeping deeply. Seven years of marriage, and he had always been like this. Cold, controlled, and polite. He remembered every anniversary. He transferred money to my account on time. He even accompanied me to visit the orphanage. But he never loved me. I used to wonder why an Alpha like him would want to marry a human like me. I never got an answer, and I never dared to ask. Just as I was about to turn off the bedside lamp, his phone lit up. A new message popped up on his lock screen. [I’m back.] There was no contact name saved. But I recognized the sender immediately. It was Sarah. I turned my head to look at Ethan. His breathing was steady; he hadn’t woken up. His long fingers, however, were resting gently on my stomach, just like they did every night. The wedding band on his ring finger pressed cold against the back of my hand. The chill seeped straight into my chest, making it hard to breathe. My fingertips hovered over his phone. With just a simple passcode, I could know everything they were talking about. But a second later, I pulled my hand back. Ethan never hid his phone from me. Not because he loved me, but because he knew I would never pry. And because I knew that even if I found something, it wouldn’t change a single thing. I had heard stories about how he used to treat Sarah. Once, a young female werewolf in the pack had tried to flirt with him. Sarah had ignored him for an entire day. After training that evening, he had chased her across half the pack’s territory. He forced his phone into her hands, wearing a helpless, desperate smile. “Are you jealous?” “I already blocked her.” “If you don’t believe me, check my texts. Delete whoever you want.” Back then, Ethan only had eyes for one person. But now, he had locked all that passion away. When the sky was just turning gray, before the alarm could go off, Ethan woke up. Almost instinctively, he reached for his phone.

Usually, he would get up early for an hour of training. But not today. He just leaned against the headboard, staring down at his phone. The screen lit up, dimmed, and lit up again. It wasn’t until almost eight o’clock that he finally set the phone down and got up to change. I acted natural as I spoke up. “Are you going to the annual pack gala this year?” His hands paused on his cufflinks. “Yes.” We never had much to talk about. Despite sharing the same bed, I had to find out about his life from an online forum. Ethan hesitated for a moment. “Are you coming?” I shook my head. The pack gatherings had never been something I looked forward to. I was the Luna, yet I was always treated like an outsider. I knew what they called me behind my back. “The useless human.” They didn’t accept me. To werewolves, humans were fragile and troublesome. If I weren’t the Alpha’s mate, they wouldn’t even look at me. He didn’t press the issue. He just gave a faint nod. “Okay.” He probably didn’t want me there either. The moment the door closed, I picked up my phone. The Silvermoon Pack forum had already accumulated over two hundred new messages, all about Ethan and Sarah. The rebellious Alpha heir and his beautiful, elegant ex-girlfriend. The two of them together was always the ultimate gossip. Sarah finally posted: “Just woke up. See you all at the gala next week!” Dozens of users replied instantly. “Can’t wait to see you!” “Wait, does that mean you saw everything we chatted about last night? I thought you blocked the forum notifications.” “Team Sarah and Ethan forever!” Sarah replied with a cute waving cat emoji. “It’s fine. I actually found it… quite interesting.” That sentence was hard to read. But nobody pushed further. Instead, they shifted the topic back to the gala. [By the way, is Alpha Ethan actually coming?] [The Alpha has been so busy with pack business lately. He probably won’t have time for a party.] [Man, the guy who used to skip training just to climb over a wall for Sarah is now the mature, serious Alpha of Silvermoon.] The forum went quiet for a few seconds. Then, Sarah posted a single line. [He will be there.] Someone immediately asked. [How do you know?] It took her a few seconds to reply. [He promised me.]

“Luna Emily.” Ethan stood at the bedroom door, fastening his cuffs. “Don’t you have an appointment at nine?” I snapped my head toward the clock. 8:40 AM. I had barely slept last night, and I had actually forgotten to set my alarm. I threw my phone aside and scrambled out of bed. I had promised Grandma Eleanor I’d visit her at nine to help with her rose garden. I was a punctual person. I hated being late. Except for that one time, before I met Ethan. It had been pouring that day. I was standing at the bus stop, completely drenched. A sleek black car had pulled up in front of me. The window rolled down, revealing a handsome, youthful face. It was Ethan, though I didn’t know his identity back then. “Get in. The rain is too heavy,” he had said, his voice flat, not even looking at me. I hesitated, but eventually climbed in. The heater in the car was on, and it was incredibly warm. He didn’t talk to me. He just drove in silence. I gave him an address, and he simply nodded. I thought he was just a kind stranger giving me a lift. But when he dropped me off and I got out to thank him, I followed his gaze. Across the street, inside a cozy cafe, Sarah was sitting by the window, waving at him. He wasn’t trying to help me. He was just on his way to pick her up, and he had simply pitied the drowned rat on the curb. In the living room, I turned around. Ethan was sitting at the dining table, sipping his coffee. Suddenly, a reckless thought crossed my mind. “Ethan, I’m going to be late. Are you busy?” In our seven years of marriage, this was the first time I had ever asked him for a favor. If he just said, “I’ll drive you.” I think I would have been happy for a very long time. But he merely glanced at his watch. “I’ll have the driver take you.” I froze for a second. “Okay. Thanks.” “Thank you” and “Thanks” were the most common words in our marriage. Thank you for the gift. Thanks for grabbing my coat. We were as polite as roommates who had shared an apartment for years, not like mates, and certainly not like husband and wife. Thanks to the driver, I wasn’t late. Grandma Eleanor was already in the garden, wearing a sunhat and trimming the roses. We had met in a community garden years ago. The old lady loved flowers, but her family was always too busy to keep her company. I frequented that garden too. She always said that even the most beautiful flowers needed patient care. Gradually, we became close friends despite the age gap. Back then, I had no idea she was Ethan’s grandmother, let alone the former Elder Luna of the Silvermoon Pack. During our chats, she would only complain about her rebellious, stubborn grandson. Until the day Ethan came to pick her up. “Luna Emily,” Eleanor waved her shears in front of my face. “What’s wrong? You seem totally out of it today.” I had just accidentally snipped off a perfectly healthy bud. I snapped out of it and shook my head with a weak smile. She saw right through me. “Did you and Ethan have a fight?” I shook my head. We didn’t fight. We didn’t even have disagreements. “That boy is so emotionally stunted. I’ll give him a piece of my mind later.” Hearing the word “stunted” associated with Ethan was almost funny. Before he married me, he was the dream of every werewolf in the territory. He was rich, gorgeous, and a hopeless romantic. I had heard that he once filled the entire pack hall with white roses for the Winter Solstice festival, just because Sarah mentioned she liked white. On New Year’s Eve, he had skipped the pack summit just to set off fireworks outside her window because she was feeling down. Though I received white roses and watched fireworks later in our marriage, I knew they were just leftovers of the love he had once designed for Sarah. My mind was a mess. I had married him, but I had never seen the passionate side of Ethan. As the wind blew through the garden, a sudden realization hit me. It explained my strange behavior since last night. I was terrified. Eleanor set her shears down and looked at me. “Luna Emily, you have been married into this pack for seven years. Do you know what the pack members say about you? They say the Luna is just a pretty ornament. I’m not blaming you, sweetie. But you are the Luna. You have power, and you have responsibilities. You can learn to host the galas, look after the pups, or take your seat in the council room. You don’t need to be a werewolf to prove your worth. You just need to show them you are willing to try.”

I had always been good at waiting. When I was a kid, I waited for someone to adopt me. Later, I waited for the last bus after my part-time shifts. And then, I waited for a husband who never wanted to come home. By habit, I found myself waiting again. Waiting for Ethan and his first love to rekindle their flame. And then, waiting to be rejected. My previous waits were numbing and dull. But this time, I was scared. Sometimes, you just have to be brave once. So, for the first time, I went to Ethan’s office at the Packhouse. On the way there, I practiced my questions a thousand times. “Do you still love Sarah?” “When are you going to reject me?” But I was stopped right at the entrance. The guard gave me a polite but firm smile. “I’m sorry, ma’am. All visitors need to make an appointment a week in advance.” The guard clearly didn’t recognize me. It made sense; most of the guards were on duty elsewhere on our wedding day, and I rarely showed my face at the Packhouse. I wasn’t sure if Ethan wanted the guards to know I was his Luna. I had never visited him here before, so I didn’t push or state my identity. I dialed Ethan’s number. Just as the phone started ringing, I heard his familiar ringtone echoing from the end of the corridor. Ethan was walking at the front of a group. He glanced at his phone, his brow furrowing as if debating whether to answer. I quickly hung up. He didn’t seem to care. He slowed his pace, occasionally turning back to speak to someone behind him. As they walked past, just a few yards away, I finally saw the woman walking beside him. It was Sarah. Time had left no marks on her face. She looked just as pure and beautiful as she did in the photos on Ethan’s old social media posts from eight years ago. She quickened her steps to walk side-by-side with him. Her voice was bright and cheerful. “Oh? You haven’t changed your ringtone after all these years? It’s still my favorite song.” I had heard that back in his rebellious days, Ethan only listened to heavy rock. But Sarah liked soft, classical melodies. Ethan’s taste in music had changed entirely for her. I guess that was the mark love had left on him. Even now, the habit remained. Only after they walked away did the guard speak to me again. “Ma’am, as you can see, the Alpha is busy. If you need something, you can schedule an appointment with the secretary.” I forced a smile. “Thanks. No need.” I felt so exhausted. My eyes stung. I told myself that all I needed was to go home and sleep. But the forum notifications on my phone kept buzzing. “Guess who I just ran into at the Packhouse banquet hall? Ethan and Sarah!” “Oh my god, are they finally back together? The ship is finally sailing!” “@Sarah, spill the tea!” Sarah posted a picture in response. It showed a beautiful window view, a fancy dinner, and a man’s hand resting on the table. His face wasn’t in the frame, but I would recognize those strong, veiny forearms anywhere. She captioned it: “The food here is amazing. Highly recommend.” She didn’t give a direct answer, but the implication was crystal clear. I zoomed in on the photo. Ethan had beautiful hands with distinct knuckles. I had held that hand countless times. I was the one who had slipped the wedding band onto his finger. My eyes locked onto his left hand. His ring finger was bare. He had taken off his wedding ring.

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One month before the Pack’s annual Hunt Festival, an intern from the Healing Center sent me a photo. In the dimly lit treatment room, my fated mate, Alexander, who was also the Pack’s lead healer, was pinning a female warrior against the table. His hands were gripped tightly around her waist. They were staring into each other’s eyes, their bodies pressed flush together. I sent the photo straight to Alexander. Late that night, he came home smelling of therapeutic essential oils. He gave me a lazy, practiced explanation. “Evelyn, you know this is just part of my job.” “Her injury is in a sensitive spot near her lower back. I had to find the exact angle to apply pressure. The photo just makes it look worse than it is.” I pulled the blanket tighter around myself. “Okay. Go to sleep. You have to train with her tomorrow.” He looked surprised. “You’re not mad?” I shook my head. Since he couldn’t let go of his first love, it was time for me to go back to my Alpha. Seeing that I had nothing more to say, Alexander went to take a shower. The posture in that photo didn’t look like medical treatment at all. It looked like an embrace. The intern who sent it only added one line: [Evelyn, I’m not trying to start drama. But Alexander has been doing this with her every single day for the past six months.] Alexander walked out of the bathroom and sat on the edge of the bed. He reached out to ruffle my hair. “Evelyn, Olivia’s spine was severely damaged by silver weapons years ago. Normal healing spells don’t work. I have to get close to find the trigger points.” “I was only treating her.” I turned my head away, avoiding his touch, and stared at the ceiling. “Okay.” “She’s been training too hard for the Hunt Festival, and her back muscles are spasming. I don’t trust any other healer with her.” “Okay.” “You know my skills. The whole Pack trusts me.” I finally turned to look at him and forced a smile. “I know, Alexander. You’re a great healer.” He kept explaining. “She and I broke up a long time ago. We’re just friends now.” I didn’t reply. I knew exactly how heavy their past was. Olivia had never truly left his life. Whenever she got a cramp during training, had a flare-up of an old injury, or couldn’t sleep, she would text him to come over. On the night we completed our Mate Bond ceremony, she texted him at eleven p.m.: “My back is killing me. I can’t move! It hurts so bad!” Alexander had just taken off his coat. After reading the message, he didn’t hesitate to lace his boots back on. I pulled his sleeve. “Does it have to be tonight?” “She’s alone in her apartment. No one is there to look after her.” I sat on the edge of the bed and lowered my head. He bent down and tucked me in. “I’ll be quick. I’ll take you to register our bond at the Pack Hall first thing tomorrow morning.” He didn’t return until three in the morning. There was a smear of essential oil on his collar. He said it got there “while stretching her out.” I knew she was fine. With a werewolf warrior’s healing ability, even the worst silver injury would have healed after several years. But he wanted to go, and no one could stop him. Every time I brought up Olivia, he would say, “She’s a warrior of our Pack, and I’m a healer. It’s my duty.” The more fragile she acted, the more patient he became. The more demanding she was, the harder it was for him to say no. Everyone in the Pack whispered that they were still hooking up. I, his fated mate, felt like an outsider in my own marriage. Alexander wanted to say more, but his phone buzzed on the nightstand. He glanced at it, his expression shifting slightly, and quickly pressed the lock button. “It’s probably just her. She gets anxious before the Hunt.” I closed my eyes. “Answer it. What if she can’t sleep tonight and it ruins her training tomorrow?” He didn’t answer. Instead, he placed the phone face down, turned around, and wrapped his arms around me. “Don’t overthink it, Evelyn. She and I are in the past.” I didn’t hug him back. Suddenly, a sharp cramp flared in my lower abdomen, like a tight knot twisting inside me. I frowned but kept quiet. Even if I told him, he wouldn’t care right now.

The next morning at six-thirty, Olivia’s call came right on time. “Alexander, I can’t train today. I seriously can’t even lift my back.” Alexander’s voice held a trace of helpless indulgence. “Olivia, you’re not a pup anymore. It’s just a mild cramp.” Olivia whimpered on the other end. “Would it kill you to be nice to me?” He went silent for two seconds, his tone softening. “Fine. I’ll head over after my morning rounds at the clinic. I’ll bring a special ointment.” Olivia immediately pushed further. “After that, you have to buy me breakfast and help me stretch.” Alexander let out a low chuckle. “Why don’t you just ask me to move in and be your personal healer?” “I would! But do you dare? Would your precious mate even allow it?” The bathroom door was slightly open. I heard every single word. He hung up, turned around, and froze when he saw me standing there. “She’s just stressed before the Hunt,” he said quickly. My face remained blank. “You’re very attentive.” “Maybe you should request a transfer to be the dedicated medic for her squad.” He frowned. “Evelyn.” A sudden, violent wave of pain surged from deep within my belly. I gripped the doorframe, my voice hoarse. “Move.” I pushed past him into the bathroom, collapsing by the toilet, dry-heaving. Nothing came up, but cold sweat broke out across my forehead. Alexander stood at the doorway. He didn’t come closer. He just watched me with a frown. “What’s wrong now?” I gasped for air. “My stomach… it hurts.” He looked at my pale face, his voice flat. “Your emotions have been all over the place lately. Of course your body is reacting. Just stop overthinking, and you’ll feel better.” I froze, my fingers gripping the edge of the sink tightly. He didn’t seem to notice. He grabbed a tissue to wipe the doorknob. “You never say anything when you’re actually sick. You only act pitiful when you want attention. It’s exhausting, Evelyn.” He checked his watch. “I have to treat Olivia this morning, and there’s a joint seminar this afternoon. I can’t stay.” “There are painkillers in the cabinet. Take two and rest.” Before leaving, he added, “Turn on the exhaust fan when you’re done. Don’t leave a smell for others.” The moment the door slammed shut, another spasm hit me. I couldn’t even stand up. A metallic taste rose in my throat. I leaned against the wall for a long time, feeling a deep sense of irony. He had all the patience in the world to find the perfect angle for Olivia’s spine, but he found my pain “exhausting” and “pitiful.” It turned out his medical compassion was highly selective. He grabbed his bag and left without looking back. I wiped my face, ordered a cab, and drove myself to the Healing Center.

The healer looked at my ultrasound results and fell into a long silence. “Evelyn,” she began carefully, “your physical state is terrible. I’m not just talking about the medical reports. I mean *you*. You look… completely crushed.” I didn’t say anything. She hesitated. “Where is your mate? Does he know you’re here?” I opened my mouth, but no words came. Aside from Alexander, I had no one else to call. My parents died when I was young. I had lived alone for so many years before I finally thought I had found a home with him. But now, as the healer asked about him, my fingers went cold against the paper. I suddenly realized that my pain wasn’t just a physical illness. It was the sickness of a failing Mate Bond. It was the physical manifestation of his betrayal. As I walked out of the Healing Center, I tried to mindlink Alexander, but I couldn’t feel his presence. He had blocked our link. Standing on the steps, I called him. No answer. I sent him a text: [I have an emergency. Come home now.] I took a cab back. When I opened the front door, I saw a pair of unfamiliar women’s leather boots on the rug. In the living room, Olivia was lounging on our couch. One of her legs was propped up on the coffee table, her ankle wrapped in a bandage. Alexander was kneeling in front of her, gently massaging her foot with expert precision. “Did you twist it?” he asked. “Yeah, just a clumsy mistake.” Olivia pouted, her voice sweet and helpless. “Alexander, am I going to be benched for two weeks?” “Your ligaments are a bit tight. Don’t walk on it too much.” He squeezed her ankle gently. “Does it hurt?” “Only a little,” she whispered, her eyes locked onto his. “But it doesn’t hurt when you’re here.” “I’m here,” he murmured. Those two words. In all the years we had been together, he had almost never said them to me. A minor sprain was nothing to a werewolf warrior. They healed in hours. He knew it wasn’t serious. He just wanted to be there for her. My abdomen flared with pain again. I gripped the entryway cabinet, my knuckles turning white. Alexander finally noticed me. “Where did you go? Why do you look so pale?” I opened my mouth to say, *I just came from the clinic,* but Olivia cut me off with a sigh. “Evelyn, please don’t misunderstand! My ankle was so swollen I couldn’t walk. Alexander was worried about me being alone, so he brought me here to treat it.” I ignored her and kept my eyes on Alexander. “I need to talk to you.” Before he could answer, Olivia gasped. “Alexander, my toes are going numb.” He immediately looked down, re-examining her foot. His voice softened even more. “Don’t move. The ligament just loosened. Give it a minute.” I stood there, clutching my bag. “Alexander, can you please take me to the Healing Center?” Olivia grabbed his wrist at that exact moment. “Did I break a bone? Why is it hurting more?” Alexander frowned, checking her foot without looking up. “Evelyn, if you’re not feeling well, go lie down. I’ll come check on you as soon as I’m done here.” “Never mind.” I turned, walked into the bedroom, and shoved my medical report into the very bottom drawer of the nightstand. That night, Alexander knocked on the door. “The guest bedroom is too damp. I’m going to let Olivia sleep in our bed tonight. You can crash in the guest room for one night.” I opened the door. Olivia had already walked into our master bedroom holding a glass of warm water. She sat right on the edge of my bed and naturally reached into the nightstand to look for pain patches. The bottom drawer held my medical report. I blocked her hand. “Don’t touch that. I’ll get it for you.” But Olivia’s fingers had already brushed against something else in the top drawer. A box of birth control pills. She raised an eyebrow and smirked. “You guys have been together for five years and you’re still using these? I was starting to wonder if he even marked you.” She threw a meaningful look at Alexander. “Didn’t you use to hate birth control? You told me you never wanted a pup with anyone else.” The room went dead silent. I looked at Alexander. He looked away, avoiding my eyes. For five years, he had never brought up having children. I thought he was just being considerate of my career. It turned out he had made the decision for me long ago. My abdomen seized in a violent cramp. I gripped the edge of the drawer, cold sweat dripping down my face. I pulled the medical report out, held it tightly, and walked toward the front door. “Evelyn, where are you going?” he called out from behind me. I didn’t look back. Where else would I go? I was going to deal with a pup that he never planned to have—and now, a pup he would never have the right to know.

By the time I reached the Healing Center, I could barely stand. The emergency healer took one look at me and her face paled. She didn’t even look at the paperwork; she just grabbed my shoulders and helped me into a chair. “Why are you here alone?” her voice was frantic. “Where is your mate? Where is he?” I shook my head. Her expression darkened. She turned to the nurse. “Prep the OR. Now.” I gripped the back of the chair, my clothes soaked in cold sweat. “We need to contact your mate,” the healer said. “In your condition, having your mate’s scent and aura to soothe you would make a huge difference.” I stared at the floor for a long time before finally dialing Alexander’s number. It rang for what felt like forever before he picked up. In the background, I could hear Olivia’s whiny voice. “Alexander, my foot still hurts. Come back and look at it…” Alexander’s tone over the phone was instantly gentle. “Don’t move, I’m coming.” Then he spoke to me, his voice instantly turning cold. “Evelyn, what is it?” “Alexander, come to the Healing Center.” “If you’re really sick, let the healers handle it. What good am I going to do there?” “The healer said… I need my mate’s scent to stabilize me.” My voice was so weak I could barely hear myself. “I have no other family. I only have you.” There was a brief silence on the other end, followed by a heavy, irritated sigh. “Evelyn, stop doing this. I know you’re an orphan and you’ve always been insecure. I get it. But you can’t keep weaponizing your trauma to manipulate my feelings.” Those words pierced through my ears like poisoned needles. The pain was so intense my vision went black. The call disconnected. I stared at the dark screen, my knees buckling. He knew exactly how alone I was in this world, and yet he used my loneliness as a weapon to push me away. I braced myself against the wall, opened my contacts, and scrolled to a number I hadn’t dialed in years. It rang once before he picked up. “Evelyn?” My voice shook violently. “Nathaniel… can you come to the Healing Center?” There was a sudden scrape of a chair on the other end. “Send me the address. I’m on my way.” That night, Alexander took Olivia to a Pack bonfire party. After a few drinks, someone suggested a game of Truth or Dare. The beer bottle spun and pointed directly at Alexander. “Alexander, honestly, if Olivia hadn’t gone abroad years ago, wouldn’t you two be married by now?” The crowded room went quiet for a second, followed by a burst of knowing laughter. Olivia leaned closer to him, looking down with a shy smile. “Stop it, guys. Alexander has been married to Evelyn for three years.” But as she spoke, her hand slid over his on the table. Alexander didn’t pull away. Someone cheered. “You’re holding hands and you’re telling us to stop? Come on, Alexander, answer the question!” He raised his glass. “Next question.” The laughter grew louder. Olivia took his phone to take a selfie. When she tapped the screen, she paused at the passcode screen. It was still her birthday. “You never changed the password,” she whispered, her eyes curving into crescents. She leaned her head against his shoulder. “My back hurts too much to lean down, block the light for me.” Alexander frowned slightly but still tilted his body to shield her from the camera glare. Someone yelled about posting the pictures on Snapchat. He replied casually, “Go ahead. My mate doesn’t check social media anyway.” Then, he added, “She’s been acting crazy lately. Always complaining about not feeling well.” The laughter slowly died down. A Pack member sitting in the corner suddenly looked up. “Are you saying Evelyn is faking it?” “What else would she be doing?” The man’s expression changed. “But… I was at the Healing Center yesterday. I saw her. A man had to carry her into the emergency room.” “She lost her pup. And the man holding her… was Alpha Nathaniel.”

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After I slapped my Mafia husband’s mistress, he locked my entire family in an asylum. I never dared to fight him again after that. When Bianca had cramps, I made her tea. When Bianca went into labor, I stayed up all night at her bedside. I waited until her baby was a month old before I dared to ask him, quietly, to let my family go. Dante just smirked. “Ellie. You want to know how I really met Bianca?” “Your loving father and your loving brother put her in my bed themselves.” “She’s your half-sister, Ellie.” He watched the color drain from my face. Then he slid his phone across the table. “Your father and your brother were never in that asylum. They’ve been with Bianca. All three years.” On the screen, my father and my brother were huddled around Bianca and the baby, smiling. Smiling in a way I’d never seen. Not once. Not for me. My eyes burn. Something rips open in my chest. Dante kept going, like he was doing me a favor. “You’ve been a good girl these three years, Ellie. Keep it up. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.” “Though…” His smile turned strange. “Even if I offered, you wouldn’t take a thing. Would you?” I wiped my face. Lifted my chin. Smiled. “Fine, Dante. Then give me a hundred million dollars.” I don’t want any of them anymore. Not the husband. Not the father. Not the brother. — Dante froze. Just for a second. “Say that again.” I looked him dead in the eye. “You said you’d make it up to me. So pay me. A hundred million. Not a dollar less.” His eyes went cold. Then he let out a dry laugh and turned to the phone on the table. “Bianca. Looks like neither of us called it right.” The screen had switched to a video call. I didn’t even see when. Bianca was smiling. Watching me. Enjoying every second. “Ellie, sweetie. We had a bet. What you’d ask for once you found out.” “I said you’d refuse the money and trash Dante’s office. He bet you’d use it to trap him. No divorce. Ever.” “Dad thought you’d make Dante throw me out. Leo thought you’d hurt yourself again to guilt him into staying.” She turned the camera. My father was holding Bianca’s baby, glowing. The second he saw me, every trace of that smile died. “Elena. I can’t believe you. Asking Dante for money?” “Did this family ever let you go hungry? Ever? What are you now — some cheap gold-digger? No better than the whores on the street.” My brother stroked Bianca’s hair. Soft. Fond. Then he turned to the camera, and his face went blank. “Elena. I know you’re upset.” “If you need money, come to me. But you don’t ask Dante. Not for this.” “Bianca and Dante love each other. They don’t owe you anything.” “Is that so?” I cut him off. My eyes were burning. “He stole my husband. You stole my father. You stole my brother. You stole my whole life.” “You played me for three years. Turned me into her personal maid.” “And you’re telling me nobody owes me a damn thing?” Leo frowned. “Elena. Watch your mouth.” “We weren’t trying to hurt you. You’ve always been stubborn. If we’d told you the truth, you never would’ve accepted Bianca.” “She’s been struggling since the baby came. Postpartum. The bet was just a joke to cheer her up. Don’t take it personally.” I pulled the corner of my mouth up. “Fine. Then pay me.” “Fifty million from Dad. Thirty from you. I’ll keep playing house. Keep babysitting Bianca. Deal?” Leo went white with rage. “Elena. How long are you going to keep this up?” “It’s spare change,” I said, cold. “Don’t tell me the Moretti empire can’t cover a favor for the Rossis.” “Enough.” “You want money? Fine.” Dante shot me a look and pulled a document from the drawer. “Bianca gave me a son. No child of mine is going to be a bastard. Sign the papers. The hundred million hits your account tonight.” I looked at those thin pages. I didn’t hesitate. I grabbed the pen and signed.

Something shifted in Dante’s face. “You really care about money that much? You were never like this…” I swallowed the burn in my throat and forced out a careless smile. “If I don’t take the money, what else are you offering me?” He stared. Those dark eyes went bottomless. “Maybe you could beg me not to divorce you.” “Say the word, Ellie. I’ll rip this contract right now.” Beg him. I bit down on my lip until it bled. I remembered the months right after I first found out about him and Bianca. I begged him a hundred times. I slit my wrists once, just to make him come home. I bled all over the bathroom floor. And all he said was: “Don’t do that again. Bianca faints at the sight of blood.” “And then what?” I looked at him. Calm. Bitter. “Then you tell me this was another bet. Another way to laugh at me.” I let out a broken little laugh. My throat burned. “Dante. Stop testing me.” “Haven’t you played with me enough?” Something cold slid down my cheek. Three years of tears. Finally spilling. Dante lifted his hand. Wiped my face. His eyes flickered — but not with guilt. With irritation. Like a wife crying was one more thing he had to manage. He sighed. “Bianca gave me a son. She’s young. A little spoiled. You’re the older one. Cut her some slack.” “You’re still Mrs. Moretti. Marrying Bianca is just paperwork. Just to put my name on the birth certificate.” He paused. Softer. “You’ll still get the hundred million. Take it. Travel. Have fun. Once I clean things up here, we’ll get remarried.” “That works for you, right?” I lifted my face and smiled. Made a small sound of agreement. “Then book me a ticket to Switzerland. You promised me once. We were going to see Lake Como together.” He let out a breath he’d been holding. Pulled me in tight. “Okay.” “Go ahead. When this is done, I’ll meet you there.” “Wait for me, Ellie.” I rested my head against his shoulder. I didn’t say anything. Because I already knew. I wasn’t waiting. Once he was sure I’d caved, he spoke again. “Give me the keys to the house. You’ll need to move out for a while.” “Bianca’s moving in. You know she’s been fragile since the baby. Pack your things up clean. Don’t leave anything behind that upsets her.” “The place is getting old anyway. Don’t fight her over it.” He cleared his throat. Slid a new set of keys and a deed from the drawer. “I bought you a new place on the south side of the city. Move your stuff there.” I said nothing. But I remembered the day we bought that house. We designed every room together. Picked out the curtains, the artwork by the front door. We agreed on two nurseries — one pink, one blue. He called it our nest. He carved a plaque with his own hands and hung it on the front gate. Dante & Elle. Later, he spent his nights with Bianca in his office. And I lost our baby, alone, in that empty house. I smiled. I put the keys in his hand. “It’s fine.” “A new place is better.” From now on, everything I own is going to be new. Not just the house. — I left the Moretti tower and drove straight to the asylum. For three years, I’d pushed open that door a hundred times. Cried until I passed out over the “father” and “brother” who were just pretending to lie there catatonic in those beds. But nobody knew — in that place, I’d met someone else. I pushed open a different door. Sunlight poured through the window. A boy sat on the sill, staring at the sky. Sharp features. Cold, wild eyes. Blond streaks in his hair where the sun caught it. If any reporter had seen him, they’d have recognized him instantly. The youngest son of the Vane Syndicate — the family that ran shipping and arms across half the world. The kid the tabloids said had been locked away for a breakdown. I spoke softly. “I have the money now. I’m taking you home.” Dante has no idea. I’m not going to Switzerland. I’m going to Sicily.

When I got back to the house to pack, the maid gave me a strange look. Opened her mouth. Closed it. I frowned and walked into the living room. Then I saw why. My things were dumped across the floor like garbage. And Bianca was walking down the staircase in a white wedding gown. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. I couldn’t stop staring. She lifted the hem and gave me a sweet little smile. “Sis. Isn’t this the dress Dante designed for you? Back then?” “He said I could have it. Said you wouldn’t mind.” “He said you’re too out of shape now to fit into it. Said the dress got lucky, ending up with me.” She lifted the skirt and spun. “How does it look, sis? Do I wear it well?” The white silk shimmered under the chandelier. Bianca was glowing. Radiant. Cruel. Years ago, Dante stayed up three nights straight sketching that dress. The first time I put it on, he told me: “One of a kind, Ellie. For the only girl in the world.” His words. Still ringing. His heart. Long gone. Bianca didn’t get it. I was walking away from Dante himself. What did a dress mean now? I smiled. My fist slowly loosened. “Bianca. Nobody ever teach you? You want somebody’s stuff, you pay for it.” “That dress is worth thirty million. I want it wired to my account by tonight.” Her face snapped. “You bitch. You stole Dante from me. You stole my family for years. And now you want money?” She raised her hand and lunged. But the dress was too heavy. I stepped aside. Her own train tangled her legs. She hit the floor hard. My father and brother came flying down the stairs. “Bianca! What happened?” Leo whipped around. Furious. “Elena. Did you just put your hands on her?” I didn’t even get a word out. A palm cracked across my face. Half my face went numb, then burned. I stared at my father. I couldn’t believe it. His face was red. His voice was steel. “I know you’re angry. I know you never accepted Bianca. But she just had a baby. She’s still weak. And you *hit* her?” Bianca sniffled from the floor. “Dad, don’t be mad at her. It’s not her fault. She said the dress costs thirty million. Without the money, I don’t get to wear it. I don’t have that kind of cash. She didn’t mean to push me.” She lifted those big wet eyes. “It’s my fault, Dad. I don’t have the money. Dad, Leo — if we pay her, will she forgive me?” My father exploded. “Bianca, you’re too kind. Pay her? Not a chance. I should’ve known. She’s just like her mother. A greedy bitch. Always was.” Something inside me went cold. My hand went to my cheek. I couldn’t stop staring at him. Twenty years of playing the loving father. The mask was falling off, piece by piece. Leo caught his arm before he could swing again. “Dad. Stop.” For half a breath, I felt something stupid. Hope. Then he spoke. “Push her too hard, she’ll show up at Bianca’s wedding to cause a scene. She likes money? Give it to her. Throwing change to a beggar.” He pulled a black card out of his pocket and threw it at my feet. His voice was thick with disgust. “There’s over thirty million on that card. Enough?” “Take it and get out. Don’t show your face near Bianca again. Don’t ruin our lives.” I looked down at the black card. His personal card. The one I used to bring him coffee with. The last thread inside me — the one still tied to them — finally snapped. I bent down. Picked up the card. Smiled like it meant nothing. I looked at the mess of my belongings on the floor. I didn’t want any of it. “Since you’re paying so generously, Leo — deal. All this is yours.” I looked him dead in the eye. “You’ve got a new daughter and a new sister now. This old one won’t be in your way anymore.” “After today, I don’t know any of you.” I dug my passport out of the pile and turned to leave. “Wait —”

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My mother, General Victoria Sinclair, is the most prestigious female general. She despises injustice above all else. That is why she has always treated Sienna better than me. Whether it is a diamond necklace or the latest couture gown—everything goes to Sienna. I get one sentence: “She has grace. She deserves nice things. You are coarse. You would only embarrass yourself.” Until tonight. The Caldwell family proposed that Adrian Caldwell and I become engaged. Adrian is the sole heir to the most powerful political dynasty on the Eastern Seaboard. I am my mother’s only biological daughter. Everyone in that ballroom expected her to accept. Instead, she humiliated me in front of three hundred guests. “Absolutely not. Mia is jealous, ill-mannered, and entirely without talent. She is not worthy of Adrian Caldwell.” I fled to the lounge to hide, only to hear my mother say to her adjutant outside the door: “So Mia has feelings for Adrian. If she marries into the Caldwell family, everyone will say I showed favoritism toward my biological daughter. What happens to Sienna then?” “I am protecting Mia from a marriage that does not suit her—and I am protecting Sienna. That is the most just outcome.” My mother has protected her country. Protected her soldiers. Protected countless strangers. She is a hero to everyone. But she has never been mine. So be it. I will leave with the person who actually chooses me. And our relationship as mother and daughter—that ends tonight. Forever. …… When I returned to the ballroom, Margaret Caldwell had not yet given her final answer. My mother continued, “Mia is too competitive. Too petty. She would only bring shame to Adrian’s name.” ” Victoria. Enough.” The interruption came from Helena Blackwood. The Blackwood family is one of the most influential houses in Washington’s military and political circles. “Mia is nothing like you are describing. You know perfectly well that she—” “Helena.” My mother cut her off. “She is my daughter. I know exactly who she is.” She drew Sienna to her side, her eyes brimming with a tenderness I had never seen before. “My niece Sienna is well-mannered and composed. She knows to put family before herself. She and Adrian are a wonderful match.” “I have already instructed my attorneys to prepare the papers to adopt Sienna. In every way that matters, she will be my daughter.” “She is far better suited than Mia.” Her voice was not loud, but it was enough to tear away the last shred of dignity I had left. My head snapped up and I stared at her back. She was not humiliating me to protect me. She was doing it to make room for Sienna. She wanted Sienna to become her daughter—to stand in my place, take my resources, my engagement, everything that should have been mine. And me, her biological daughter? I would get nothing but the reputation she had just destroyed, turned into a laughingstock in every drawing room from Georgetown to McLean. The murmuring around the room swelled. “So the rumors are true. General Sinclair favors her niece.” “If her own mother speaks of her that way, how terrible must the girl be?” Margaret Caldwell frowned. She was silent for a long moment. Then she nodded. ” Given that General Sinclair intends to take Sienna in as her own, she may also be considered a daughter of the Hart family. The Caldwell family will consider her engagement to Adrian.” Sienna pressed down the triumph flickering in her eyes. She lowered her head demurely. “Thank you for this opportunity, Mrs. Caldwell.” “As for Mia—” Margaret’s gaze shifted to me. “Nathan has been working closely with Adrian. He is also unattached. If Mia marries Nathan, the Hart-Caldwell alliance remains intact.” Every eye in the room turned toward me, full of pity and barely concealed amusement. Nathan Caldwell. Everyone knew exactly who he was. Adrian’s cousin. A name synonymous with late-night club scandals, women, car accidents, and a trail of messes the Caldwell PR machine had buried under mountains of settlement money. Sienna got the heir to a political dynasty. Because of my mother’s public evisceration of my character, I was being offered the man who had nothing left but the Caldwell surname. Helena Blackwood stood up abruptly. “Margaret. Who Mia marries should be her own decision.” I rose to my feet. I looked directly at Margaret Caldwell and said, “Thank you for your consideration, Mrs. Caldwell, but I will not marry Nathan Caldwell.”

Back at the Hart estate that night, my mother summoned me to her study. She poured a glass of water and slid it across the desk toward me—a rare gesture that almost passed for maternal. “At least you showed enough judgment in the end to know what not to take from Sienna.” I heard my own voice shake. “You told everyone in that room that I am unstable, troublesome, unworthy of standing beside Adrian Caldwell. By tomorrow morning, all of Washington will know that my own mother thinks I am worthless. ” “Mom—you destroyed me. Did you ever stop to think about what happens to me after this?” Her patience was utterly spent. She looked at me coldly. “Sienna has no mother, no one to rely on. You have the Hart name, you have parents, you have a starting point most people can only dream of. Why must you be so selfish as to fight her for this?” I stared at her, speechless. I live in the rooms Sienna rejected. I use the furniture she no longer wanted. I wear the clothes she dismissed as ugly. What exactly do I have? When I was ten, I heard my mother tell the housekeeper: “Sienna’s got no mother. Take good care of her. Mia can do without.” So, to spare Sienna’s feelings, every birthday gift my father sent home from overseas was handed straight to Sienna. Anything Sienna liked was off-limits to me. On Sienna’s eighteenth birthday, my mother dropped an urgent assignment and rushed back to throw her a grand party. When I turned eighteen, I waited from sunrise until midnight. She never came. She just sent an email: “I’ve got a lot on my plate. Don’t make this hard for me.” That night, I sat alone in the dining room and cried through the night. My mother’s heart held her country, her soldiers, and Sienna—there was no place left for me. My mother sighed. “The Caldwell situation is settled. You turned down Nathan yourself. Stop pining for Adrian.” From inside her blazer, she produced a folded document and slid it across the desk. “I have already selected a match for you. A junior military liaison. Solid, unambitious, no political entanglements. A quiet, stable life. Most people would consider themselves fortunate.” I looked at the paper. Sienna was marrying into the kind of family that gets its own spread in Vanity Fair. And I was being told by my mother that Owen Pierce—a junior liaison no one outside the Pentagon circle had ever heard of—was the best I could hope for. “No. I’m not marrying him.” I threw the paper back across the desk. “Father is still overseas. You can’t force this through without him.” Her hand cracked across my face. I stumbled into the bookshelf, cheek blazing. “We’ll see about that.” Her voice was flat. “The engagement announcement will go out before Jonathan gets back. By the time he lands, it’ll be too late to undo.” Tears spilled from my eyes, and I ran back to my room. Tessa saw my face, her voice breaking as she pressed an ice pack to my swollen cheek. “She hit you? You’re her own daughter. How does she do this to you?” She holding an envelope. “Helena Blackwood’s driver dropped this off.” I tore it open. A ruby brooch slid into my palm—antique, oval-cut, the deep red stone set in platinum with tiny diamonds around the edge. Tucked behind it: a short note in handwriting. “Wait for me. —D” I closed my fingers around the brooch. The following week, every room in the estate overflowed with flowers and engagement preparations for Sienna. Tessa stood at my window, face blotchy with fury. “She emptied the family safe.” Tessa’s voice shook. “Your great-grandmother’s jewelry. The fur coats. The vintage watches. Three cases of it dragged into Sienna’s room. It should all be yours.” Once, that would have destroyed me. Now I barely felt it. The housekeeper appeared at the door. “Miss Hart, the General would like you downstairs.” The moment I stepped through the door, a teacup shattered against the wall inches from my head. My mother roared at me in fury: “Apologize to Sienna. Now!”

I didn’t move. “Apologize for what? I haven’t done anything.” She pointed. Sienna’s engagement gown lay on the floor, ivory silk soaked in black ink. The beadwork was destroyed beyond repair. “You destroyed Sienna’s engagement gown, and you won’t even admit it.” A bitter sound escaped me. “What proof do you have that I did this?” She gestured toward the girl cowering near the floor—Chloe, one of the maids assigned to Sienna. “She saw you. Last night. Near Sienna’s room.” I turned to Chloe. “What time?” “Around nine-thirty, miss.” “Where?” “By the east corridor. Near the garden door.” “What was I wearing?” Chloe swallowed. “A lavender sweater…” Tessa stepped forward, her voice shaking with rage. “The east corridor has no lights after nine. You couldn’t tell lavender from black at that distance. You’re lying.” Chloe crumpled, sobbing. “Forgive me, General! It was me. I spilled the ink. I was terrified, so I—” Sienna shot up and slapped Chloe across the face. “You brainless fool, how dare you frame Mia?” She turned to me and lowered her head. “Mia, I’m so sorry. I should have kept her in line.” My mother waved a hand. “It was a misunderstanding. Sienna apologized. We’re done here.” “No.” I frowned. “I never did what she accused me of, yet she wanted me punished. If she walks away without consequences, what’s to stop anyone else from doing the same?” My mother’s face froze, and it hit me—she knew. She knew Chloe was lying, and she was going to bury it to protect Sienna. She looked at me, her eyes filled with reproach. “No real harm was done. You’ve been cleared. Stop blowing this out of proportion.” I looked at her without flinching. “If I were the one who broke it, would you still call it a small thing?” She frowned at me, as if looking at a disobedient child. “Chloe is dismissed. Effective immediately. Legal will handle the non-disclosure and she’ll be blacklisted from the industry.” “Are you satisfied now?” Chloe sobbed as security escorted her out. Sienna stood frozen, chewing her lip. Then my mother spoke again. “The gown is destroyed, and there’s no time to have another made. Your grandmother’s vintage Valentino—give it to Sienna.” The air left my lungs. That gown was the last thing my grandmother ever gave me. “No.” My voice broke. “Chloe made the mistake. Chloe works for Sienna. Why am I the one paying for it?” “Sienna is marrying Adrian Caldwell. The press will be at the engagement events. She needs to look impeccable.” My mother’s voice was utterly matter-of-fact. “You’re marrying Owen Pierce. He can only afford a simple, modest wedding. What do you need a couture gown for?” “I don’t know what your father was thinking, leaving something this fine to you instead of Sienna.” Something inside me snapped. I cried out at her: “He gave it to me because he knows who his daughter is. You never did. Sometimes I wish you weren’t my mother! At least then I wouldn’t have to be hurt like this!” Her face went white. The coldness that followed was worse than the slap. “Enough. Perhaps I should teach you how to be a daughter. Especially my daughter.” Tessa threw herself forward. “General, please. Miss Mia gets sick every winter. She’s frail. She can’t take—” “Frail?” My mother’s voice climbed with incredulous fury. “She’s grown up in one of the wealthiest households in this country. Top private doctors. A personal nutritionist. Organic everything delivered weekly. What possible frailty?” A bitter sound escaped me. The private doctors all went to Sienna. The nutritionist was hired specifically for her. Every tutor brought into this house taught Sienna alone—I wasn’t even allowed to sit in on the lessons. What had I ever actually been given? My laughter pushed my mother past the edge. She had me taken to the punishment room, forced down onto my knees in the middle of the floor, and then she produced a leather whip. The way the military disciplined soldiers who stepped out of line—that was how she disciplined me. The whip cut through the air and came down hard across my back. The pain drove straight through me. She didn’t stop. One lash after another. My mouth filled with blood; I had long since bitten through my lip. The skin on my back split open. Blood ran down my sides. My shirt was soaked through, and the pain slowly went numb—as if it wasn’t landing on me at all, but on someone else entirely. By the time my vision went completely black, I dimly heard her say: “Mia, this time I hope you finally recognize what you’ve done wrong.” I closed my eyes. But Mom—my greatest mistake was ever wanting your love. After tonight, I owe you nothing. And I don’t love you anymore.

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On our wedding anniversary, my husband gave my first-class seat to another woman. Ethan Ward was obsessive about time. He had a rule: if any argument lasted more than ten minutes, he would walk away. Not a second longer. But that day, my morning sickness was so bad that I arrived at the gate three minutes late. When I looked up, Ethan had already told the crew to close the cabin door. In first class, Lily Scott was sitting in my seat. This was the fourth time. Whenever I was a step behind, he gave my seat to Lily. The first time, I was held up two extra minutes at security. He took Lily to the Maldives. The second time, my prenatal appointment ran over. Five minutes late. He checked Lily into the spa hotel I had booked. The third time, I was so nauseous my legs gave out. Ninety seconds late coming downstairs. His car pulled away from me with Lily inside. He said: “You’re always late. I can’t leave a seat empty and waste it.” I stood outside the gate, and a tearing pain ripped through my abdomen. My hands shook as I dialed Ethan. Busy signal. Again. Still busy. The third time, the call finally went through. His voice was calm. “Lily’s a little airsick. I can’t step away. Call 911 yourself.” I looked down at the pool of red by my feet and slowly set the phone on the ground. I thought the pain would bring me to my knees, but when your heart truly dies, your body doesn’t collapse. Ethan, since your schedule never has a single minute to wait for me— This time, I’ll be the one who leaves you behind. By the time the ambulance arrived, I could barely form words. The paramedics cut open my blood-soaked pant leg and lifted me onto a stretcher. A nurse gripped my wrist. “How many weeks along? Where’s your family?” “Eleven weeks.” I gasped for air. “My family is on a plane.” “Can we reach the baby’s father?” I closed my eyes. “Don’t bother. He can’t step away.” My phone rang once more. Ethan’s name on the screen. I stared for two seconds, then answered. “Claire, did you call an ambulance?” In the background, Lily’s soft voice floated through. “Ethan, is something wrong with Claire? Should we turn around? I can handle it.” Ethan said flatly: “She’s an expert at making small things into big drama. Just lie down.” Then he asked me: “If the airport medical office can handle it, why did you need to call an ambulance? The plane has already taken off. We’re not turning back for you.” Another wave of cramping seized my abdomen. I bit my lip, waited for the pain to pass, then said: “The doctor says there’s a risk of miscarriage.” Two seconds of silence on the other end. Then he said: “Are you using the baby to guilt-trip me again?” “Claire, you’re the one who was late. If I rearranged everything for you every single time, everyone would think schedules don’t matter.” If this were before, I would have explained. I wasn’t late on purpose. I was in so much pain I couldn’t stand. But now, watching the nurse swap out blood-soaked gauze over and over, I suddenly had no strength left to speak. Lily’s voice came through again. “Ethan, don’t be upset. Pregnant women are emotional. She probably just wants you to comfort her.” Ethan’s voice turned even colder. “I don’t have time for your jealousy. If you’re admitted, keep the receipts. I’ll reimburse you when I’m back. Stop calling. Lily isn’t feeling well and needs rest.” The line went dead. I glanced at the time. Exactly ten minutes. The nurse looked at me, words caught on her tongue. I pressed the phone face-down into my palm. “Could you put it on silent for me?” By the time the examination was over, it was dark outside. The doctor placed the report in front of me. “Threatened miscarriage. You must stay on bed rest. No exertion, no stress.” I asked: “Can the baby be saved?” “There’s still a heartbeat for now, but no one can guarantee anything. You should have family with you tonight.” I shook my head. The doctor frowned. “You can’t be alone. If there’s heavy bleeding, press the call button immediately.” The door opened then. Ethan’s assistant walked in carrying a suitcase. He pulled out a cashmere shawl. “Mr. Ward asked me to bring this over. Ms. Scott left it at the airport. Mr. Ward is worried she’ll be cold on her return flight. He’d like you to wash it and drop it at the dry cleaner’s.” The doctor’s face darkened. “She nearly miscarried, and you people are asking her to deal with this?” The assistant looked embarrassed. “Mr. Ward said his wife usually handles these things. And it needs to be delivered by nine tomorrow morning. Ms. Scott needs it for her return trip.” The assistant’s phone rang. Ethan’s voice came through on speaker. “Did you deliver it?” “Yes. But the doctor says she can’t get out of bed.” His voice shifted toward me. “Claire, stop dragging your feet. Lily’s things can’t be delayed.” I handed the shawl back. “Take it. I have no obligation to look after her belongings.” Ethan’s tone was indifferent. “What’s the fuss now? It’s just a shawl.” I rested my hand on my still-aching belly, my voice barely above a whisper. “You’re right. So it won’t matter if it gets lost.” The assistant was about to take the shawl back when a booklet slid from the suitcase. A prenatal record. The name on the cover: Lily Scott. At the bottom, printed clearly— Eight weeks pregnant.

“Lily is pregnant?” I opened the prenatal booklet. Inside was an ultrasound image. The assistant’s face changed. He lunged to grab it. “Ma’am, this is Ms. Scott’s private information.” I looked at him. “Why is her private information in my husband’s suitcase?” “Mr. Ward only accompanied her to an appointment.” The call was still connected. Ethan said coldly: “Lily hasn’t been feeling well lately. I took her to get checked. She’s not married and doesn’t want anyone to know. Keep it to yourself.” I looked at the date on the ultrasound. That day was also the day of my first prenatal appointment. Ethan had promised to go with me. But at the hospital entrance, he suddenly said Lily’s car had broken down and told me to go in alone. I waited in line for four hours by myself. When I came out with my results, his phone was already off. So in that same hospital, he had been with another woman for her appointment the entire time. I asked: “Whose baby is it?” “That’s none of your business.” “You’re my husband.” Ethan’s patience ran out. “Which is exactly why I’m telling you to drop it.” “Claire, you already have a child on the way. There’s no need to be so hostile toward someone who has no one else.” I simply repeated: “Whose baby is it?” Lily sounded like she had just been woken, her voice faint. “Claire, please don’t misunderstand. There’s nothing between Ethan and me. I just didn’t want my family to know, so he’s keeping it quiet for me.” I asked: “Then where’s the father?” She went silent for a moment, then began to cry softly. Ethan immediately lowered his voice to soothe her. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything you don’t want to.” When he came back on the line, his tone held nothing but irritation. “Are you done interrogating her? She just found out she’s pregnant. She can’t handle the stress.” I looked at the diagnosis sheet by my bed. We were both carrying children, but the way he treated us couldn’t have been more different. Lily furrowed her brow, and he worried about her stress. I lay in a hospital bed bleeding, and all he remembered was to have me wash her shawl. “Ethan, I can’t handle stress either.” “You’re fine, aren’t you?” After those words left his mouth, both ends of the line went quiet. I didn’t argue. This was the first time I hung up on him. Ethan came back the next afternoon. He didn’t come to the hospital first. He took Lily home to rest. At seven in the evening, he finally pushed open the door, carrying a container of takeout congee. “Lily said your appetite’s been bad. She told me to bring this for you.” I glanced at the packaging. Seafood congee. Lily’s favorite. I’m allergic to shrimp. I was his wife. Yet I was never the one he cherished. “Just leave it,” I said, too tired for anything else. He sat on the edge of the bed, studying my face. “What did the doctor say?” “Bed rest to keep the pregnancy.” “There’s a Ward family dinner tomorrow night. We were going to announce your pregnancy. Since you can’t make it, I’ll have Lily attend in your place.” I stared at him. “She’s going to play Mrs. Ward for me?” Ethan tucked the blanket around me, his tone unusually gentle. “She’s just sitting in your seat. Focus on getting better. Don’t get hung up on the small things.” A beat later, he pulled an authorization form from his briefcase. “Sign this. Tomorrow night they’re also unveiling Cloud Cabin. Since you can’t be there, we’ll put Lily’s name as lead designer for now. We’ll change it back after the presentation.” I gripped those pages. Cloud Cabin was my mother’s manuscript. It was the project I had poured two years of my life into completing. “Why can’t you just announce my name?” “If you’re absent from the launch, it shakes investor confidence. Lily presents well, and she can be there on time. She’s more suitable than you.” “It’s my design.” “I know.” He pressed a pen into my hand. “It’s just borrowing her name. Don’t be immature about this.” I pulled my hand away. “I won’t sign.” Ethan’s expression went cold. “Claire, the company isn’t here to indulge your moods. You already disrupted the flight by being late. Lily is willing to clean up your mess, and you’re still making a scene?” He smoothed the authorization form flat again. “Sign it by nine. My assistant will come pick it up.” “And if I don’t?” “All of Cloud Cabin’s development data is at Ward Group. Whether you sign or not, I have the authority to decide who presents it.” He knew exactly how much I had given to this project. My fists clenched, and I finally said the words. “Let’s get divorced.” Ethan looked at me, a hint of derision in his eyes. “Claire, even jealousy has a limit. Don’t push this past the point of no return.” His tone was so certain. Just like every argument before—he was certain I could never leave him. But this time, I was truly done. Too exhausted to even fight him on it.

The door had barely opened when a nurse walked in with lab results. “Are you Claire Ward’s family? Her levels have dropped again. She needs twenty-four-hour monitoring.” Ethan glanced at his watch. “I promised Lily dinner at eight. I can’t be late.” I looked at him and asked one last time: “So she’s more important than me?” “It’s not what you think.” Ethan’s voice went cold. “Lily is punctual. She’s composed. She knows what matters. If her father hadn’t died saving my life, she wouldn’t be alone in this world. When are you going to grow up and be more like her?” With that, he stepped around the nurse and strode out. I had heard this speech many times. Lily’s father had been the Ward family’s pilot. Ten years ago, a mechanical failure mid-flight. He sustained fatal injuries protecting Ethan. From then on, Ethan treated caring for Lily as a debt he owed. She wanted the passenger seat—he made me get out. She wanted a plane ticket—he left me at the airport. She wanted my place—and he called it compensation. Half an hour later, I was transferred from a private room to a six-bed ward. The Ward Group project launch was playing live on the television. Lily stood in front of my cabin design model, wearing my gown. The host smiled and asked: “Ms. Scott, I hear this is a gift you’re preparing for your unborn child?” Lily touched her belly, her smile shy. “You could say that. Ethan helped me revise it many times. He said our baby deserves the safest sky.” Someone in the audience whistled. Someone asked if wedding bells were coming. Ethan didn’t correct them. He simply adjusted the microphone for Lily and said calmly: “Her standing here today is already the best answer.” Applause erupted. Everyone in my ward turned to stare at me. “Isn’t that your husband?” “The one next to him looks more like his wife—she’s even pregnant.” I tried to turn off the television, but my hand was shaking too badly to find the right button. The woman in the next bed switched it off for me and said quietly: “Don’t watch.” A message from Ethan appeared on my phone. “Launch went well. If you’d cooperated, it wouldn’t have gotten this ugly.” Below it was an electronic authorization form. In the signature field, my name was already there. I called him. “Who signed for me? You forged my signature.” His voice was perfectly even. “Schedules can’t stop because of you. Lily only signed on your behalf. Once you’ve calmed down, I’ll have legal handle the paperwork.” My abdomen clenched tight. “Stop the launch. Issue a public correction.” “Do you have any idea how much it would cost Ward Group to stop now?” “That’s my mother’s manuscript.” “Which is exactly why I made it worth more.” He paused, softening his tone. “Stop making a fuss. I’ll come stay with you tonight. Tell my assistant what you want to eat.” A bitter ache filled my chest. He always did this. Thought a scrap of tenderness could erase all the damage. Suddenly, Lily’s gasp came through the phone. “Ethan, I think I felt the baby move!” Ethan’s voice went tense immediately. “You’re only eight weeks. The baby can’t move yet. Are you uncomfortable? I’m taking you to the hospital.” He forgot to even hang up. I listened to his hurried footsteps receding, then set the phone back on the nightstand. A nurse rushed in. “Claire Ward, your contractions are worsening. We need to notify your family member to sign consent forms immediately.” On the other end, a car door slammed shut. Ethan murmured something reassuring to Lily. Then he ended the call. I stared at the darkened screen, my voice perfectly calm. “Let’s change the procedure. Terminate the pregnancy.”

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Three years of marriage, and Vito never once sat down at the table with me. I couldn’t get through a single meal without fish, but the mere smell of it made him snarl about the stink—and afterward, he’d refuse to speak to me for a full month. So whenever he ate at home, I took my plate of fish outside the villa. Three years. Every single day. Until the afternoon I passed by the seafood market at the docks and saw Vito, with practiced ease, gutting a fish for some young girl—then eating the plate of tuna sashimi she fed him with her own hand. That was when I finally understood. It wasn’t that he couldn’t stand the smell of fish. He’d simply been saving his affection for someone else. … At noon, the seafood market baked under a punishing sun, giving off a rancid, rotting stench. A few men in black suits stood watch outside the stalls, telltale bulges at their waists where they carried their guns. I stood across from Vito, watching this man—the Don whose word was law in the Toronto underworld, who held countless lives in his hand—crouched down and expertly cleaning fish for some little girl who sold them out of buckets. When he finished, he peeled off the rubber gloves and let out a soft breath. The girl saw him and hurried over with a tissue, dabbing gently at the sweat on his brow. They looked at each other and smiled. Then, when Vito wasn’t watching, she rose up on her toes and stole a quick kiss right on his lips. Vito froze for a beat—but he said nothing. Something twisted in my chest. Three years. Three years of hiding outside just to eat my fish. And the moment I walked back through the door, he’d order me to rinse my mouth five times before he would even consider kissing me. But just now—just now, he’d let that girl press her lips to his, with the taste of fish still fresh on them. A wave of nausea rolled through me. The girl spotted me approaching, and reluctantly pulled away from him. Vito, the instant he recognized me, went white as bone. I didn’t bother reacting to him. I simply pulled out a hundred-dollar bill and spoke to the girl. “One fish. The bigger, the better.” She clearly didn’t know who I was. She glanced back at the tanks and gave me an apologetic look. “Ma’am, you’re too late—we’re all sold out. Would you like to reserve one for tomorrow?” I shook my head, my voice even. “I’m not late. I got here the moment the market opened.” “Oh—then why are you only buying now, ma’am?” “You two were busy being intimate. I didn’t want to interrupt.” I was speaking to her, but my eyes stayed fixed on Vito. Beside her, he stiffened again, his brows drawing together. I changed the subject. “Isn’t there still one fish left?” The girl turned to look on instinct. There was one fish floating in the tank—dead, at some unknown point during the morning. She waved her hands quickly. “Ma’am, that one’s dead. It’s not fresh anymore. I can’t sell it to you.” I kept smiling. “It’s fine. This fish is only dead. It’s not like certain people—clean and respectable on the outside, rotten to the core underneath. Just knock a little off the price.” “After all, today happens to be my birthday.” Vito’s head snapped up, his expression darkening further. A gleam of hidden satisfaction flickered in the girl’s eyes as she pretended to hesitate, then nodded. “Well… all right, then.” “But my friend can’t clean it for you. He’s been working all morning, he must be exhausted—” Before I could answer, Vito had already scooped the fish up himself, pulling the gloves on with brisk familiarity. “It’s fine, Gina. I’ve got it. It’s just one more.” The girl called Gina tried to lean in for another kiss. He turned his face away. She laughed sheepishly. “Thank you.” The two of them moved around each other with an intimacy that was impossible to miss. Something lodged itself in my chest, so tight I could barely breathe. Vito stunned the fish, then asked me: “How do you want it prepared?” “Sashimi.” My answer made his hands go still again. He pressed his lips together, silent for a long moment, before he finally spoke. “This one isn’t fresh. It won’t work as sashimi. You’d get sick.” I looked at him, and before I could stop it, a wounded ache rose up in my throat. “Is this fish only unfresh today? Or has it been rotten for a long time?” I meant more than I said. On the surface, I was talking about the fish. But I was really asking whether our marriage had gone bad today—or whether it had been decaying for years. Vito paused. He set down his tools, then dropped the fish back into the tank. “I’m sorry. I can’t sell you this one.” “I always eat fish on my birthday.” The girl finally caught on that something was wrong. She asked hesitantly: “Vito, do you two… know each other?” “No.” Vito answered so fast it hurt. Then he shot me a look, silent, insistent. Eyes red, I gave a soft murmur of agreement, and turned to leave, keeping my dignity intact. What he didn’t know, in that moment— What I was giving up wasn’t just the fish. It was him.

Back at the villa, Vito’s messages started rolling in one after another. *Wait for me at home. I’ll give you an explanation.* *I haven’t forgotten it’s your birthday. I have a present. I’m on my way back…* I didn’t answer a single one. My cursor hovered over the “Accept” button for a long time as I sat in front of my laptop, staring at the offer letter from New York. In my mind, I ran through our three years of dating, our three years of marriage. There had been so much good. But now, I couldn’t tell where the truth ended and the lies began. He’d told me he hated fish—hated the smell—said it reminded him of the rotting corpses at the docks, of the bloody water after the family cleaned out its traitors. Yet there he was, standing in the fishiest place on earth, letting a fish-monger’s daughter kiss him. He was supposed to be the youngest, most dangerous, most untouchable Don in Toronto. And yet, for a girl named Gina who sold fish out of a bucket, he was willing to squat down on filthy concrete and gut them for her. Evening came. Vito didn’t come home. There were no more explanations on my phone. No more messages. I pressed a hand to my mouth, and in the end, I swallowed the tears back down. I clicked the button. I accepted the offer that had been sitting in my inbox for a week. It was time to end all of it. Once that was done, I called my lawyer. Drafted the divorce agreement. Started the inventory of marital assets. Late that night, Vito pushed open the door, the winter air still clinging to his dark suit. I sat on the couch and slid the divorce papers across the table toward him. He barely glanced at them. “Mia. As the Donna of the Leone family, you don’t get to act impulsively. Put the papers away. Let me explain what happened today first.” I looked up at him, my voice trembling. “Explain? I saw that girl kiss you with my own eyes. You didn’t even pull away. For three years, if I wanted to eat fish, I had to hide outside like an animal. When I came home, I had to rinse my mouth over and over before I could get near you. And you let *her* do that? You call that anything but favoritism? You call that anything but cheating?” Vito loosened his tie. His voice was still measured, still perfectly organized as he laid it out for me. “That kiss—she’s naïve, she just threw herself at me. I didn’t have time to move away, and I couldn’t shout at her for it.” He sat down on the couch across from me, calmly building his case. “Six months ago, I was ambushed on international waters by the Ruso family. Gina risked her own life to save me.” “My relationship with her isn’t what you think it is.” “There are plenty of ways to repay a debt. You could have written her a check. You could have handed her cash. Why did you have to be at that stall, gutting her fish, letting her cross every line?” I’d been married to Vito long enough. I knew him inside and out. A man like him—a man of that stature—didn’t do things like that out of gratitude. He simply refused, to the death, to admit he was interested in a fish-monger’s daughter. Vito stared at me, absolutely convinced he’d done nothing wrong. “Gina is a good girl. She has no one. She won’t take money. This is the only way I can help her.” “As for the fish smell—Gina makes her living catching fish. If I turned my nose up at the very thing that keeps her alive, what kind of man would that make me?” I laughed, my eyes burning red. “Vito! And what about your duty to me, as my husband? You didn’t even have the guts to acknowledge me as your wife in front of her today.” Vito leaned closer, and for a rare moment, genuine urgency broke through in his eyes. He reached out to touch me. I flinched away. He didn’t push it. His voice dropped low. “No. I only did it because I didn’t want her to feel guilty.” “But I never betrayed you. I’m not signing these papers. You know as well as I do—the Leone family cannot have rumors of a divorce, of a marriage falling apart. The moment I sign this, our rivals will use it to tear us down. Every man loyal to us will suffer for it.” His voice softened, coaxing. “Today was just a misunderstanding. You’re my wife. I’m not going to destroy our marriage and our family for the sake of someone I owe a debt to. Don’t be reckless. Give me the chance to make it right.” The words had barely left his mouth when his phone rang. It was Gina. Through the speaker came the sound of a girl in tears: “Vito, the tide came in at the docks. All the fish you helped me catch today, they’ve all gotten out—I can’t manage it alone, can you come help me?” Vito looked at me, conflict raw in his eyes. I pulled my lips into a mocking smile. In the end, he couldn’t let Gina go. He stood up and said quietly, “I’ll finish up quickly and come right back. We’ll talk this through. Don’t do anything rash. Don’t sign anything.” He grabbed his coat and strode out. The door closed. The house went silent, save for the ticking of the wall clock. The minute hand had just crossed midnight. I sagged against the couch, drained. My nose stung. I whispered to myself: “Happy thirtieth birthday, Mia.” “Congratulations. From now on, you get to celebrate your birthday the way *you* want.”

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