Category: English

My father had an affair. He even had a secret child, a son. Just like in my previous life, my mother, Eleanor Montgomery, fueled by pride and anger, walked out on him, taking me with her and leaving everything behind. I followed her into a life of poverty and hardship, eventually meeting a desolate, premature end. But I’m back, reborn. This time, I didn’t hesitate. I pushed her away. I chose my father. The double betrayal, from both me and my father, left my mother trembling with rage. She cursed me, called me an ungrateful wretch. “So what?” I’d spat back, the words laced with a venom born of past suffering. “I’m never going back to that miserable life with you!” … It was during my sophomore year of high school that my mother discovered my father’s infidelity. His secret son, Jeremy Reed, was already ten years old. The revelation shattered her. She insisted on a divorce, no matter what. My father, Richard Reed, however, refused, threatening that if she left, she’d take me and walk away with nothing. My mother was a proud woman. True to his word, she left him, taking nothing but me. She believed her self-sacrifice, her unwavering pride, would sting my father, make him regret his actions, and perhaps even respect her for her strength. But he never looked back. He married his mistress, Serena Hastings, and lived what he considered a ‘happy life.’ My mother, meanwhile, worked three jobs a day to put me through school. The relentless stress and crushing exhaustion soon led to breast cancer. Without the money for treatment, she died far too young. At her funeral, my father merely shrugged. “Your mother was always too stubborn, too proud,” he’d said, a cold, dismissive tone in his voice. “See? This is what happens when you leave me.” His mistress, Serena, had covered her mouth, a smirk playing on her lips. “It was Eleanor who insisted on the divorce, darling. Richard and I only got together after that. How can you blame me? She simply didn’t appreciate what she had.” Our relatives chimed in, “Eleanor had a good life and threw it away. She brought it on herself.” Everyone agreed she deserved her fate. Not a single soul offered sympathy. Her pride, her fierce resolve, had earned her no kind words, only a bitter, tragic half-life. Unable to afford tuition, I dropped out of college and started working. In the end, Serena and her son, Jeremy, fearing I might return to claim a share of the inheritance, hired thugs. They ambushed me, and I met a brutal, unjust end on my way home from an late shift. On that night, when my cries went unanswered by heaven or earth, I swore a silent oath: if I were ever given another chance, I would never again be a lamb led to slaughter. And mercifully, fate granted me that chance. When I opened my eyes again, I heard the familiar sound of my mother and father arguing downstairs. “Richard Reed, are you even human?!” My mother’s voice cracked, thick with tears. “I’ve been with you since I was twenty! You had nothing back then. We finally have a house, a car, a company, and this is how you treat me?! I want a divorce!” She then launched into a tearful account of every struggle, every sacrifice, she’d made by his side. It was the exact same scene from my past life. “That’s enough, Eleanor Montgomery!” My father’s voice boomed as he rose from the sofa. “What else can you do besides drone on about the past like a broken record?” He paced, agitated. “You’ve been idle at home all these years. The house, the car, the company—which of them did you work for?” He paused, his gaze cold. “Serena’s right. All this talk, isn’t it just an excuse to demand more money?!” Serena Hastings was my father’s mistress. His words struck my mother like a physical blow. Her eyes wide with disbelief, she stared at my father, then nodded slowly. “Fine. That’s how you see me, is it? Then divorce! Divorce immediately! Skylar comes with me. You can go off with your mistress!” “If you’re so determined to be high and mighty and get a divorce, then walk away with nothing!” My father slammed a divorce agreement onto the coffee table. Just as in my previous life, my mother reached for the agreement, her hand already moving to sign it. “Mom, wait.” I descended the stairs, my voice cutting through the tension. I picked up the agreement and scanned it. Identical to the last time: I was assigned to my mother, and all assets went to my father. It seemed my father had been prepared, knowing my mother’s proud nature, he’d deliberately provoked her into signing this one-sided document. My mother, oblivious to being manipulated, still believed he was just being stubborn. “This agreement needs a revision,” I told my father, looking at him directly. “Dad, I’m your daughter. I want to stay with you.” My father’s face broke into a relieved smile. My mother, however, stumbled back a step, her expression a mix of shock and profound hurt as she looked at me. She signed the revised agreement, packed a few changes of clothes, and turned to leave. I reached out to stop her, but she angrily shrugged off my hand. “Spineless creature! Go live with your rich father! Don’t touch me!” I knew. The double betrayal from both me and my father had wounded her deeply. But right now, her mind was consumed by her feelings for my father, and the misguided hope that her pride would make him see her in a different light. Any attempt to reason with her, to persuade her to fight for her share of the assets, would be useless. I had to take matters into my own hands. I discreetly gathered her jewelry—all gifts from my father, worth over a million dollars—and tucked them into her suitcase. In my previous life, she hadn’t taken a single piece when she left, leaving them all for Serena and forcing herself to take on dishwashing and cleaning jobs for barely fifteen hundred a month. Giving her these now, I knew, would at least buy her some time if she faced financial trouble. But my father’s assets were in the hundreds of millions; this small sum was far from enough. The next morning, my father’s company made headlines. “Reed Group Chairman’s Affair Forces Wife to Leave with Nothing,” “Richard Reed Abandons Devoted Wife for Mistress”—the titles were everywhere. The internet erupted in a storm of outrage, condemning my father as ungrateful. Partners called, eager to get to the bottom of the scandal. My father flew into a rage. “Who leaked this?! How did the media get such sensitive information?” His lawyer wrung his hands nervously. “We don’t know yet, Mr. Reed. But given the current situation, we simply must allocate a portion of the assets to Ms. Montgomery.” My father grumbled and cursed, but in the end, he had no choice but to agree to transfer the current villa to my mother and offer her an additional three million dollars in compensation. What surprised me, however, was that my mother, with an almost defiant pride, refused the compensation. My father was caught in a bind, burning under public scrutiny. I tugged his arm. “Dad, if Mom doesn’t want it, you could put it in my name. Then you can tell the media that Mom simply gave her share of the assets to me. It has nothing to do with you or anyone else.” My father agreed. He transferred the house and the savings into my name, ensuring it was legally notarized that these assets belonged solely to me. This move quieted some of the public outcry, but my mother called me, furious, accusing me of being greedy and spineless, telling me I didn’t know how to earn money with my own hands. I simply sighed. Just wait, Mom, I thought. You’ll soon learn that pride is worth nothing in the face of reality. A month after the divorce, my mother called me. Her voice was hesitant. “Skylar, how did some jewelry end up in my bag? Was it you or your father…?” Poor Mom. She was still clinging to the illusion that my father might feel some remorse. “It was me,” I stated, shattering her fantasy. I knew this was the moment my mother was starting to feel the harsh reality of the world. Years of being a housewife meant she faced rejection everywhere she applied for jobs. She had no friends, her parents had passed away, and her life was spiraling into difficulty. In my previous life, she ended up working as a dishwasher for a thousand a month, still harboring fantasies that my father would take her back. This time, finding the jewelry while financially desperate had ignited a final spark of hope for him. Unfortunately, my father was currently preoccupied with planning his wedding to Serena. “Dad and Serena are very much in love, and they’re getting married soon,” I cruelly informed my mother. “Mom, you need to start a new life too.” My mother finally gave up hope. She sold all the jewelry, used the money to buy herself a small two-bedroom apartment, and settled down. At least this time, she wouldn’t have to live in a dingy basement apartment for three hundred a month, like before. She hesitated, then said, “Skylar, I misunderstood you that day. But why didn’t you stay with me? Is it because you thought I was poor?” Recalling everything I’d endured in my previous life, I didn’t answer directly. I simply advised her, “Mom, I’ll study hard from now on, and you live well. Remember to get regular check-ups, and if you meet a suitable man, don’t be afraid to start over.” It was a long time before she replied with a choked “Okay.” Three months after the divorce, my father married his mistress, Serena Hastings. My father bought a new villa, and twenty-nine-year-old Serena moved in, bringing her ten-year-old son, Jeremy. Like many stepmothers, Serena was a two-faced woman. When my father was around, she’d smile sweetly, constantly piling food onto my plate. “Skylar, darling, you’re still growing. You need to eat more.” The moment my father left, her smile vanished, replaced by a look of disdain and veiled hostility. She’d hum a tune, primping herself, then dump Jeremy on me. “Skylar Reed, I have errands to run. Jeremy is your responsibility. I hear your grades are excellent, so you need to tutor him properly! Make sure he finishes his homework! He is, after all, the heir to the Reed family!” What errands could she possibly have? Just playing mahjong and clubbing with her fair-weather friends, no doubt. “I have my own homework to do. I don’t have time to tutor him,” I replied. I was in the second semester of my junior year, a demanding time for studies. “What’s a girl like you doing with all that homework?!” she sneered, her face filled with contempt. “Look at your mother—a college graduate, what good did it do her? Didn’t Richard just dump her? I only finished elementary school, and I’m living in a grand villa, aren’t I?” She leaned in conspiratorially. “Your mother, she just read too many books and ruined her brain. Had a good life and didn’t appreciate it. A woman’s virtue is in her obedience, not her intellect, Skylar. You don’t need all that schooling; just make sure your little brother is taken care of.” The scene from my mother’s funeral in my past life flashed before my eyes. I offered a gentle smile. “Of course. I’ll make sure to tutor him well.” Only then did Serena relent, leaving for her mahjong game, a satisfied smirk on her face. Before the sound of the door closing completely faded, a basketball suddenly slammed against my forehead with a thump. Stars exploded in my vision, and I nearly collapsed. Looking up, I saw Jeremy standing on the stairs, glaring down at me. “Skylar Reed, I’m the heir to this house! You may be older, but you’re just a girl, and you’ll get married and leave eventually! You have to listen to me and stay out of my way! Or I’ll beat you up!” “Who told you that?” I asked. “My mom, of course! She said all the Reed family fortune is mine! I call the shots here. You’re nothing!” Jeremy declared, his chin jutted out defiantly. He was right. I couldn’t cross him. Not yet. So, I would indulge him. I took him to the game room downstairs, then, under his direction, taught him how to play various video games. Once he’d grasped the basics, he waved me off, mimicking my father. “Go on, scram! Don’t bother me!” I returned to my study as instructed, a cold smile forming on my lips. Taught to be like this at ten years old? They would have quite the shock when he grew up. Jeremy spent the entire day in the game room, delighted. At four in the afternoon, estimating Serena would soon be home, I gave Jeremy the answer key. He happily copied all his homework. When Serena checked his work, her eyes curved into delighted crescents. “Oh, Richard, look how much Jeremy has improved! All correct! He truly is our future heir!” My father laughed, pleased. “Of course! What do you expect? He’s my son.” I watched them, a chill in my heart. Even in this life, where I chose to stay with my father, it seemed Jeremy was still the only heir he envisioned for the Reed family. From that day on, after discovering this free labor, Serena completely abandoned any pretense of supervising Jeremy. She was out early and back late every day, busy with shopping, beauty treatments, and mahjong. She ordered me to take full responsibility for Jeremy’s studies, even demanding I attend parent-teacher conferences in her place. Her days, in contrast, were easy and comfortable. The house, surprisingly, became harmonious, thanks to Jeremy and my feigned obedience, and Serena’s cheerful disposition. My father, free from the previous pressures, felt utterly at ease. He constantly praised Serena for her excellent homemaking and child-rearing skills. At Serena’s insistence, he even promised to transfer thirty percent of the company’s shares to her when Jeremy graduated from elementary school. My mother, I remembered, had been by his side for so many years and never received a single share. From then on, I studied even harder, practically forgetting to eat or sleep. My academic ranking climbed steadily. When I graduated high school, I was accepted into one of the top ten universities in the country, choosing a Business Management major. At the parent-teacher conference for college applications, the counselor repeatedly commended my parents for their excellent guidance. My father beamed, his smile stretching from ear to ear, as if my academic achievements were solely the result of his efforts. My mother, when she heard the news, wept tears of joy. She had worried that the divorce would negatively impact my studies, never imagining I could achieve such outstanding results. She didn’t know that after a lifetime of no education, forced to drop out and work, I cherished every opportunity to learn now. Serena, upon hearing my chosen major, pouted. “What’s a girl like you doing studying that?” My father, for once, didn’t agree with her. He chuckled. “The family business is here, after all! Maybe she can even help me out someday!” Serena, seeing my father’s beaming face, unhappily retorted, “Doesn’t our Jeremy have the company? What does it have to do with a girl?” My father scolded her for the first time. “You really are narrow-minded. Women can manage businesses too! Besides, Jeremy is still so young, isn’t he?” Serena, fuming but unable to argue, let out a disdainful huff. “What difference does it make? Our Jeremy is a genius! He gets perfect scores on all his homework, and he’s praised at every parent-teacher meeting! His elementary school graduation results are coming out in a few days. Jeremy will definitely get first place!” Yes, I thought. Busy with my own college entrance exams, I had almost forgotten that my exams and Jeremy’s elementary school graduation coincided that year. My father, hearing Serena’s words, looked even more delighted. Only Jeremy nervously lowered his head. I smirked inwardly. On the day the elementary school results were released, Serena specifically asked my father to cancel his business appointments to go with her. “Skylar Reed, we won’t be home for dinner tonight,” she said, gloating. “Our little family of three is going out to celebrate. Your dad is even transferring shares to us! We’ll be back late.” She deliberately emphasized “family of three,” pointedly excluding me. For some reason, she always harbored a subtle hostility towards me, constantly trying to provoke me, both overtly and covertly. I pretended not to notice her venom. “Oh, that’s wonderful. Have a good time.” To my surprise, less than an hour later, they were back. My father stormed through the door, yelling, “You told me your son would get first place?! Did you mean last place?!” I nearly burst out laughing. It turned out my father and Serena, unable to contain their excitement, had rushed to see Jeremy’s homeroom teacher without waiting for the parent-teacher conference. The teacher had then sharply reprimanded them, revealing that Jeremy spent his days at school trying to skip class and play games, never studying. She’d also criticized them as irresponsible parents for sending a child to every conference. Finally, to their astonishment, she presented his report card: 25 in English, 18 in Math, 15 in Science—last in the entire class. My father was shaking with anger and left before the conference even began. Serena immediately turned her fury on me. “Skylar Reed, you did this on purpose, didn’t you?! I told you to tutor your brother, what were you doing?! Why didn’t you tell us the truth after the parent-teacher conferences?!” I feigned innocence. “Dad, you know I was in my final year of high school, studying for college entrance exams. I was so busy! How could I have time to tutor him every day? And when I came back from conferences, I wanted to tell Aunt Serena, but she was never home! I couldn’t find her!” My father, hearing this, grew even angrier. “Serena Hastings! What kind of mother are you?! Didn’t you know Skylar was in her final year?! You burdened her with more! And you’re never home! What good are you?!” Serena realized she had been outmaneuvered. She shot me a hateful glare, then burst into tears. “Richard, I didn’t know it would be like this! I always thought he was doing so well!” My father ignored her tears this time. He turned to go upstairs, but Serena grabbed his arm. “Richard, we can talk about the grades later. Let’s transfer those shares first!” Even now, she was still focused on the thirty percent of shares. “Shares for what?!” My father exploded, swearing. He pointed at Serena and Jeremy. “With you two like this, what good would transferring shares do?! Don’t you ever bring it up again!” After my father went upstairs, Serena raised her hand to strike me. I caught her wrist, mimicking her own words at my mother’s funeral in my past life. “Aunt Serena, you were the one who insisted I take full responsibility for Jeremy’s studies, weren’t you? How can you blame me?” She was so enraged her lips trembled. I returned to my room to sleep, listening to her yelling at and hitting Jeremy in the living room all afternoon.

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Genevieve gave me the silent treatment, all for her childhood friend. She left me stranded in a foreign country for three years. I had a shattered leg. I was penniless and didn’t speak a word of the language. My only means of survival was picking through trash. More than once, I called her, begging. “Genevieve, I’m not going to make it out here.” Her only reply was a cold, distant dismissal. “If it wasn’t for you, would Tristan have gotten hurt? I’ll bring you home when you’ve finally shed that spoiled heir attitude of yours.” What Genevieve didn’t know, or didn’t care to know, was that in this country, you couldn’t get a job without a permanent address. And without a job, you starved on the streets. The winter was brutal. I was half-buried in a snowdrift when a stunningly dressed woman from high society found me and took me in. Three years later, on a street in that same foreign city, Genevieve and Tristan blocked my path. “Alistair, it’s been three years. Haven’t you gotten over that pampered attitude yet?” I frowned, ignoring her. I pulled out my phone and called Isabelle. “Darling, another woman’s throwing herself at me. When you come to pick me up, bring the bodyguards. It’s time to take out the trash.” 1 The words had barely left my lips when Genevieve snatched the phone from my hand and ended the call. “Alistair, when are you going to grow up? You’ve even learned to lie.” As she spoke, a light snow began to fall. Her eyes, filled with disappointment, met mine. The scene threw me back three years. Genevieve and I were married young, a smooth transition from university sweethearts to husband and wife. The world saw us as the golden couple, a perfect match from powerful families. Her promise to me had been absolute: “Alistair, you’re the heir to a fortune, and I’m the darling of high society. We’re made for each other. No one can ever tear us apart.” Her devotion made me give her everything, from my shares in the company to the deeds to our properties. She was my world. In our first year of marriage, she wrestled control of my family’s corporation from my stepmother, ensuring my late mother’s portrait was hung in the main hall of the family estate. In our second year, she scoured the globe for the best doctors to help me overcome the childhood trauma that still haunted me. In our third year, she endured endless hospital visits and grueling rounds of IVF, determined to give me twins, a boy and a girl, so I could finally feel what it was like to have a real family. Even on our wedding day, as I carried her over the threshold, she had bowed her head so I wouldn’t have to bend mine. “Alistair,” she had said, “you are my husband. I want everyone to look past me and see you standing tall.” And so, wrapped in her love, I had been carefree and demanding. I made her text me back instantly, even during board meetings. I’d make her drive a thousand miles back from a business trip, just because I missed her. Even when she was pregnant, my every mood was her priority. If I mentioned a craving, she’d drive across the city herself to get it for me. That was Genevieve. My perfect wife. And then Tristan appeared, and everything changed. He was a childhood friend of hers. His family had moved away after going bankrupt years ago. When Genevieve found him again, he was being beaten by loan sharks on the street, the result of a disastrous affair with a married woman. The familiar face from her childhood, now bruised and alone, looked so utterly pathetic. Oh, and the night they met? That was the night she was out getting me a specific kind of takeout I wanted. I’ve hated myself ever since for wanting that damn food. It was Tristan who recognized her first. Two words were all it took to reignite a childhood crush. “Genevieve.” And just like that, she brought him home. I was waiting eagerly for my food, only to see her walk in with this sad, broken man trailing behind her. “This is Tristan,” she announced. “An old friend. He’ll be staying with us for a while.” 2 It was the first time she had ever brought another man into our home, and it was the first time I completely lost control in front of her. I destroyed everything I could get my hands on in the villa. A shard of glass flew and cut Tristan’s face. Genevieve rushed him to the hospital in a panic, completely ignoring me as the stress triggered my old leg injury. I collapsed on the floor, pleading with her. “Genevieve, my leg… it hurts.” As she helped Tristan out the door, she threw back one last line: “Stop pretending, Alistair.” So I went to the hospital alone. I had just finished my examination when the doctor told me, “You were two minutes away from losing that leg for good.” Then, he handed me a file. It was Genevieve’s. “Mr. Sterling, your wife is three months pregnant. You need to take good care of her.” The news washed away my anger. For the sake of our child, I could forgive her for tonight. When I stepped out of the office, I ran right into her. “Genny, you’re pregnant.” Her face was a mask of indifference. “I’m getting rid of it. I owe Tristan my life. I have to pay him back first.” For Tristan, she was willing to abort our child. “Genevieve, you dare. If you get rid of this baby, we’re getting a divorce.” I thought the threat would work. Instead, she slapped me. Then she tried to force me to apologize to Tristan. “You’re so childish, Alistair. Tristan is the one who’s hurt right now.” The pain of being compared to another man by the woman I loved was a knife in the heart. I was forced to apologize. I went back to my family’s estate, expecting her to come and coax me back. But in the end, I was the one who couldn’t stand it. I caved first. When I opened the door to our home, I found Tristan lying in our bed. He was wearing a pair of silk boxers, a gift she’d given me. The sight broke something inside me. I went mad. I grabbed Tristan and tried to throw him out of the house. But he fell down the stairs. The fall landed him in the hospital. The doctors said he had a severe head injury and would likely be brain-dead. It was a death sentence for him, and a life sentence for me. She looked at me with that same, crushing disappointment. “You’re a murderer, Alistair. Do you realize that?” A murderer? I didn’t push him. I tried to explain that the staircase wasn’t that high, that he had slipped on his own. She wasn’t listening. She just kept accusing me. “A pampered heir like you could never understand what Tristan has been through. In your world, his life is cheap, isn’t it?” I had nothing to say. Faced with this version of Genevieve, so fiercely protective of another man, the words wouldn’t come. Silence and a bitter smile were my only defense. She shoved me. “There you go again. You just shut down. You think this is funny?” Then, she delivered the final blow. “By the way, I had the procedure yesterday. The baby is gone. Consider it punishment for what you did to Tristan.” She threw the clinic report at me. The baby was gone. It felt like a million tiny threads were sewn into my skin, all pulling at once, trying to flay me alive. The pain was unbearable. I pulled myself together enough to say one thing. “I see.” But my punishment wasn’t over. She sent me abroad. “You can come back when Tristan wakes up. In the meantime, you can reflect on your attitude.” The final outcome of our “silent treatment” was this: she dumped me in a foreign country, stripped me of all my money, and cut off all my contacts. She left me with nothing and no one. She said it was for my own good. “Alistair, you need to feel what it’s like to truly suffer, like Tristan did. Only then will you understand.” 3 The snow in that foreign city was relentless. The first day, I slept in the airport, my eyes glued to the entrance, praying she would come back for me. The second day, security threw me out. They couldn’t understand me, and I couldn’t understand them. I had no money, no ID, nothing. The third day, I lost all my dignity. I grabbed a stranger’s leg and begged for money. He kicked me away, but then, perhaps out of pity, tossed a single bill on the ground and walked off. I clutched the money like it was my last hope on earth and ran to a payphone, dialing the number that was burned into my memory. She picked up quickly. I thought I could hear Tristan’s voice in the background, but all I could focus on was getting home. “Genevieve, please, bring me home.” Her voice was strange, her breathing heavy, her words broken and gasping. “Genevieve, are you there?” All she gave me were breathy murmurs. “Mmm… yes…” I thought she had heard me. I walked all the way back to the airport, my feet blistered and bleeding, my body numb from the cold. I waited for days. The pain in my leg grew worse. I remembered the doctor’s warning and used the last of my money—money I should have used for bread—to call her one more time. She answered with an accusation. “Alistair, can’t you handle a little hardship?” “Genevieve,” I said, my voice cracking, “my leg… if I don’t get treatment, they’re going to have to amputate.” The line went dead. I don’t know if she heard me. All I knew was the pain. My whole body ached. It hurt so much I could barely breathe. I just kept whispering her name. Before, she would have appeared like a goddess, descending to save me from any trouble. This time, I was cast into the abyss, and darkness swallowed me whole. After that call, I collapsed. A kind stranger got me to a hospital. The nurse delivered the diagnosis. The leg needed to be amputated. They required a signature from my next of kin. I stared at my leg and cried. The nurse tried to comfort me. “If your family is willing to pay, there is an alternative treatment…” “I don’t have anyone,” I said. “My wife is dead.” In that moment, all I saw in their eyes was pity. Genevieve was dead to me. She died the moment she chose him over me. She died on her way to get that takeout. She died the night she sent me away. The only person I had failed was myself. She was right. I was a pampered heir. I had no idea how to survive on my own. After that day, I never called her again. Occasionally, she would try to reach me through others, but I refused every attempt. Now, her voice cut through the memory, sharp and impatient. “Alistair, have some respect. I’m talking to you. Are you deaf?” I pushed her hand away. “Three years ago, did you ever listen to me?” If she had, I would still have both my legs. A bitter sting filled my nose. I took a step back and held up my hand, letting the diamond on my finger catch the light. “Genevieve, I’m remarried.”

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The day I was diagnosed with terminal cancer, Ethan Blackwood asked me to go on a divorce reality show with him. I knew he had lost another bet with his little secretary. They had made ninety-nine bets in total, and every single time, he deliberately threw the game, letting himself lose. He lost the house we decorated together, lost our wedding. He even lost the child we created together. Ethan let Chloe perform the abortion herself, just to satisfy her curiosity about the human body. When the seven-month-old baby was aborted, I hemorrhaged and almost died on the operating table. The man handed me the contract for the show. “Ava, I lost another bet. It’s just a reality show, humor Chloe.” “It’s also a good opportunity to boost your popularity, make it easier to get roles later.” Ethan forgot that the last time he lost to Chloe, he signed me up for ten explicit films. Afterward, he promised, “I won’t let any photos of you leak out.” But the next day, a video of me completely naked broke the internet. And I was blacklisted by the entire industry, no director would hire me anymore. Calmly taking the contract and signing it, Ethan kissed my forehead in satisfaction. “Remember to choose ‘not divorcing’ in the final question, we get off together at the end of the journey.” He didn’t know, we wouldn’t make it to the end. … After putting away the contract, the call from the funeral home came. The man, who was always looking down at his phone, heard the vague words and looked up at me. “Who died?” I hung up the phone and casually replied, “A distant relative.” He said “Oh,” looked back down at his phone, and walked straight out. Forgetting to wait for me, as always. I didn’t mind and followed him. Just as I opened the car door, someone held my hand down. Ethan pointed to the car behind, “Ava, you drive yourself to the filming location first, I still need to deliver breakfast to Chloe.” I was stunned, then quickly took my hand back. Softly said, “Okay.” Seeing that I didn’t argue with him like before. He rarely showed me a gentle smile, “Remember to eat something yourself, you’re too skinny.” My eyes fell on the breakfast spread out in the back seat of his car, all kinds, more than ten varieties. Still steaming, I guess he bought them himself early in the morning. I withdrew my gaze, remembering when my stomach problems acted up, I begged him to buy me a cup of hot soy milk. He just gave me a cold look and handed me a bottle of milk, “I don’t have time, you drink the milk first.” After speaking, he rushed out the door. He forgot I was allergic to milk, the milk at home was prepared for him. He always never came home, the milk had long expired. Coming back to my senses, the car had already sped away. When I arrived at the recording scene, everyone looked at me with strange eyes. I didn’t care, quietly waiting aside. Just other guests had already finished recording the pre-interview, Ethan hasn’t arrived yet. The director urged me to contact him, took out the phone only to find that I had long been blocked. The last time he lost the bet to Chloe, was to delete all my contact information. I silently took back the phone, smiled apologetically at the director, “Sorry, I don’t have his contact information.” The people present whispered. “Did she sign up on her own initiative, Mr. Blackwood didn’t want to accompany her to the show at all.” “She made so many explicit films behind Mr. Blackwood’s back, been with so many men, it’s good enough that Mr. Blackwood didn’t divorce her, how does she still have the face to go on the divorce show…” The director is Ethan’s good friend, knows the inside story. Hearing such words, just slightly stunned, did not stop. I waited until dark, all the guests have gone back to the hotel to rest, I still sit in the recording studio. The cold wind blew through the window rustling, covering the mouth can not help coughing. The palm contaminated with bloodshot, just wiped off, someone walked in outside the door. The man heard my coughing sound, put the jacket on me. “Sorry, I’m late, the company suddenly has urgent matters to deal with.” But I smelled the strong scent of crabapple flowers on his coat. Chloe likes to take a bath with crabapple flowers, Ethan built a ten-acre crabapple flower base for her. Flowers that should grow in spring, can also bloom in winter. Seeing the rash on his neck, I moved my gaze away without a trace. Ethan is allergic to pollen, the most serious time, once in front of me shock on the spot. I cried and made trouble, begged him not to ignore his own body for Chloe. In exchange for only his cold eyes, “Don’t be meddlesome.” Pinching the bloody paper ball in his hand, took off the clothes on his body. I hate this smell, he knows. My mother died under the crabapple tree where she and my father made their vows, that day my mother saw my father cheating. When passionate love, he gave me flowers, always carefully told the florist, no crabapple. Also once swore in front of me, never let down. Just, flowers will wither, people’s hearts change easily. The boy who once loved me met the girl he loved more. The camera crew quickly notified the backup, Ethan still looked down at the phone, revealing a spoiling smile. Everyone tacitly did not disturb. Only I like playing a one-man show, alone answering the director’s sharp questions one by one. This is not difficult for me, just acting. Just take this as the last play I perform in the world. The last link, the director handed us a note. Asked the last question, “Do you still want a divorce today?” The man suddenly looked up, put away the phone, took the note. When looking at me, I have already put the note into the box. He also followed the note thrown in. Joked to the director: “So mysterious, have to wait until the last day of recording to open?” Confidently look at me, “We won’t divorce.” After speaking, he stood up for me to drag the luggage into the hotel. Only just to the door, his phone ringtone rang. Ethan immediately hooked his lips, walked aside, picked up the phone. I struggled to move the suitcase up the steps. When he came back, I subconsciously handed him his pajamas. The man shook his head, did not pick up. Chuckled: “Bet with Chloe and lost again, she doesn’t let us sleep together these seven days.” My hand suspended in mid-air. If it was before, I would definitely have a big fight with him again. Just, I now even breathing is fast running out of strength. There is no extra energy to argue with him. Took back my hand, lay on the bed. “Then suit yourself, I’m tired, sleep first.” Ethan’s attention had long returned to the phone, did not hear clearly what I was saying. The next day, the man’s wrist, more a pink hair tie. The lipstick mark on his shirt also showed that he left overnight last night. Ethan subconsciously rubbed the hair tie on his hand, let me can’t help but think of, A few years ago when it was popular to give boyfriends hair ties, I also vulgarly put my own hair tie on Ethan’s hand. The man in front of my face, threw my carefully selected hair tie into the trash can. Undisguised dislike me childish: “You are fast running to thirty, don’t play this kind of little girl’s game.” I scrutinized the words on the hair tie, that “Chloe” word is extraordinarily dazzling. Ethan does not remember, Chloe is still a year older than me. Now he is happily accompanying Chloe to play little girl’s games. “Went to buy breakfast early in the morning, let’s eat some together.” This is the first time Ethan bought breakfast for me since marriage. Even if it’s just to cover up his excuse for leaving at night. And since Chloe appeared, bringing her breakfast became Ethan’s habit. He still handed me a glass of milk. I told him many times, he did not remember that I can not drink milk. And Chloe’s preferences, just casually mentioned, he attentively recorded in the memo. I accidentally saw, densely packed, meticulous. Picked up the xiaolongbao, but was slapped away by his palm. The back of the hand immediately pan up dark red marks. Ethan pushed the porridge to me, “This is for you.” I suddenly remembered, just saw Chloe’s moments. The girl’s tone is charming, “Really want to eat hot buns woo woo.” Thought of this, everything is clear. Can’t help but speak to remind, “Today to go out to record the program.” The man has already carried the food box to go out. Snowflakes floated outside the door, laughing at himself in self-mockery. When he went to find Chloe, always rain or shine. And when I was filming and encountered a mudslide, panicked called him. He only felt that I was hypocritical, immediately hung up the phone. Afterwards sent me disaster relief supplies, also sent to the wrong place. I almost died in that mudslide disaster, and he was accompanying Chloe to check in the amusement park. Love and not love so obvious. Partial I almost die, only see clearly. I forced the porridge into my mouth. The porridge was long cold, and that steamer of xiaolongbao was still steaming. Must be he carefully protected in his arms, so that the xiaolongbao did not cool down so fast. I know this so clearly because I also had such a snowy day, Carefully holding the xiaolongbao downstairs in the dormitory waiting for him. He loved others in the way I loved him, only appear I ridiculous and sad. It is received the director’s notice, know Ethan want to be absent four days of program recording. And I need to with another three pairs of couples, continue recording. For four consecutive days, I like an invisible person, recorded by the camera. No one is willing to talk to a notorious porn star. And every day, Chloe’s moments are very lively. Ethan accompanied her to Mohe skiing. Go to Bali for vacation. Go to Santa Claus Village to see the aurora. I was tortured by illness and unable to focus on thinking, long after the aftertaste came over. Originally the place they went, is the honeymoon route I and Ethan set very early before. Finger suspended on the screen for a long time, until the nosebleed dripping submerged the photo of the two under the aurora. I was flustered with a tissue to wipe off, but accidentally click a like. Soon, four days without contact man with a strange number, called. The man’s voice was somewhat nervous, “Ava, it’s Chloe’s birthday, I accompanied her abroad for vacation.” I wiped off the nosebleed, hoarse voice said it doesn’t matter. Ethan’s voice gentle up, “Ava, recorded variety show, I and Chloe’s one hundred betting contract also completed.” “Wait to go back, I properly accompany you to celebrate anniversary.” Finished, behind him came the girl urging voice, “Brother Ethan, want to set off fireworks!” The man immediately hung up the phone. I stared blankly at the schedule message popped up on the phone, tomorrow is the tenth anniversary of me and Ethan together. And the life of the final deadline, also left a few days. Originally and Ethan together days, fast occupied half of my life. The next day, Ethan unexpectedly did not miss the appointment, on time appeared at the shooting scene. I changed into the goose yellow dress worn when just together, but took off the ring worn for a long time. Actually the ring long ago inappropriate, is I always not willing to take off. Out of the room, Ethan looked at me for a long time lost in thought, then smiling walk over to hold my hand. “Ava, you are too thin, eat more rice.” Just like when young, he clipped the only few slices of meat in the bowl to me, gently touching my head, “Ava, eat more meat.” My heart was moved, Chloe’s untimely voice sounded behind him. “Ava sister you are somehow a female star, how wear nondescript, give brother Ethan shame.” She looked up and down at my dress, can not help but puff a sound. Ethan only pettingly nodded her forehead, looked at me. “Chloe today with us to go to the jungle adventure.” Chloe raised her chin, proudly said, “What adventure, I am now your production director!” “You better behave obediently, otherwise I will definitely let the cameraman brother shoot you ugly.” Ethan not angry but laugh, full of promise. When getting on the car, Chloe sat in the driver’s seat. Provocatively smile at me: “Sorry ah Ava sister, I carsick, aggrieved you sit in the back咯.” I did not say anything, straight sit to the back seat. Two people along the way chatting about what they saw and heard during travel, I quietly closed my eyes to rest. Only the man through the rearview mirror, frequently look towards me. Chloe saw, suddenly “ouch” a sound. Ethan slammed on the brakes, nervous way: “Chloe, what’s wrong?” Chloe covered her own stomach, “Brother Ethan my stomach hurts ah!” Ethan turned his head to look at me, “You get off, I first send Chloe to the hospital.” I looked at the snow-covered wilderness, Ethan in accordance with Chloe’s route into another road. Behind the camera crew did not keep up. “Take me back together.” Chloe was anxious way: “That how can line, how can let Ava sister for me delay shooting.” Saying, tightly frowning cry pain. Ethan almost lost reason like, drag me out of the car. “They soon keep up, you wait here first, Chloe she body weak, cold weather, can not stand.” When the car left, I almost want to stand unstable. The snow is getting bigger and bigger, I waited for three whole hours, side bloody paper ball more and more. Until I fast hypothermia fainted past, a familiar figure rushed towards me. “Ava!” On the medical car of the program group, woke up, Chloe muttering on the side, “All blame me too stupid, unexpectedly pointed the wrong way.” “Ava sister won’t blame me right.” Ethan embrace her, gently coaxed way: “No.” Beside the doctor hesitant to speak, I shook my head at her. Only rested for an hour, the director remind continue recording. This time, the camera crew directly sent us into the jungle. Chloe make noise want to be together. Snow diffuse over the ankle, I subconsciously look towards Ethan. Before when snowing, he afraid my shoes wet, always carry me go. Nowadays, he did not hesitate to carry Chloe. Walked a section of road, only to find that I fell behind. Seeing my increasingly bloodless face, mouth open and open, pale explanation, “Chloe she body uncomfortable.” I did not answer, muffled head walk forward. All the way silent, fast to the destination, Chloe make noise want to roast fire. Ethan put her carefully down, to pick up wood. Chloe glanced at the camera behind, close to in front of me. “Ava, did Brother Ethan tell you, he won’t divorce you?” “He is lying to you, his every note, written all are divorce.” “Know why?” She narrowed her eyes, eyes pride almost hide不住. Stroking her own lower abdomen, “Because I conceived his child, he want the whole world witness you divorce, then grandly marry me enter the door.” Somehow, long numb heart at this moment rapid beating up. And Chloe is still continue, “He simply don’t care about the bastard in your belly, otherwise won’t let you abort.” “Tsk tsk, you don’t know, when come out, all purple…” I violently spit out a mouthful of blood, in all people haven’t reacted over when, deadly pinch Chloe’s neck. “Slut, you return my child’s life, return my child’s life come!” Twisting, my face was ruthless pumping a slap. Then thrown out. Chloe screaming: “Brother Ethan save life, Ava sister want to beat me to death!” “Ah, my lower body bleeding, our child is not can not keep?” I rolled down the hillside. Looking up, the man condescending looking at me. Face full of haze. “Ava, Chloe and child if something happens, I will never let you go.” Saying, he picked up Chloe turn head to go. Only leave a sentence, “Let her properly reflect below, who also not allowed to pull her up!” Director hesitant way: “Ethan, weather too cold, down the mountain still have wild wolves haunt…” Haven’t waited for him to finish, Ethan coldly interrupted him, “She all dare to shot hurt people, still afraid wild wolves?” “Your people immediately evacuate, who dare save her, I just stop all investment.” Throat a rush of sweet surge up, I violently spit out a mouthful of blood come. Call stop angry man, “Ethan Blackwood.” The man footsteps paused, eventually still did not turn back. Also did not hear my last sigh, “Ethan Blackwood, happy tenth anniversary.” Snow covered my body, really good, I will never pain again… The next morning, Ethan drove alone to the end of the journey. There, will the whole network live the final result. As long as both sides get off, is choose continue to be together. When passing a funeral vehicle, Ethan heart rise uneasy come. He last night already explain assistant, go to bring people back. But morning wake up, he didn’t see my figure. Only when I leave ahead. He waited at the end for a long time, finally a car stop in front of him when, he face full of joy to meet up. But wait for him to see clearly people down the car, but stunned in place. At the same time, assistant flustered rush in, “Not good president, accident!” And the radio inside the car, suddenly insert broadcast a section farewell poem. Woman voice soft, “Dear fans friends, when you hear this paragraph, I have left this world…” Director almost trembling, pass the note inside the box to Ethan. “Ava she, every time tick all are——” “Divorce.” Assistant face flustered to extreme point, “President, we press your orders to pick up madam back, but find a night, haven’t find madam.” Ethan to these followed one after another news, slightest didn’t any reaction. He stunned in place, attentively listening to the radio inside woman voice. Fingers tightly clench become fist, scarlet eyes, a pair unbelievable look. Director and assistant also already react over. “Radio inside voice, good, seems to be madam.” Ethan immediately loud refute, “Not her, you give me shut up!” I floating in mid-air, calmly looking at him. Original he know my death news when, is such emotion. I still thought, he would be happy. Because he finally can get rid of me, marry Chloe. Ethan pinching those few notes, repeatedly confirm. He look towards director, “How can?” “She so love me, how can divorce with me?” I float to in front of him, want to confirm he this moment sad, is not true. He look indeed very sad. But he if now will for my divorce choice sad words, last night how will discard me in snowy jungle.

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One hour before my wedding, I scrolled across an anonymous gossip post. [Spilling the tea on my sister’s “debt-repayment” wedding: The groom says marrying the older sister is paying off a debt, but his true love is the younger sister.] The main post was a photo: in the reflection of a hotel vanity mirror, the profile of a back wearing a wedding dress looked seventy percent like mine. Caption: [Is there anything more thrilling than swapping the bride on the wedding day?] My fingers trembled as I zoomed in on the photo. On the vanity, clearly placed, was the iris brooch I had personally prepared for my bridesmaid. There were already hundreds of comments downstairs. The original poster posted a close-up of holding hands in the latest reply. There was a familiar old scar on the man’s ring finger, exactly the same as the mark left by my fiancé Ethan’s car accident. Someone asked for details, and the poster only replied with one sentence. [The older sister accompanied him in starting a business for ten years; he said marriage is a repayment. But tonight, I will look into his eyes and say: I do.] There was a knock on the door. Chloe walked in, lifting the hem of her dress. She leaned in close to my ear, her voice as sweet as honey: “Sis, the ceremony is about to start. Look, is my brooch pretty?” 1 I forced a smile: “Yes, it’s pretty.” She took my arm and chuckled secretly: “Sis is the pretty one, Sis is the prettiest bride today, let’s go quickly, don’t keep the groom waiting.” I took a deep breath and pushed open the side door of the hall. The music was soft, the guests filled the seats. Ethan stood in front of the altar, his back straight. The officiant came up, face full of smiles. “Ms. Sarah, there’s a small adjustment at the end of the schedule, did you see the note?” I took the paper he handed me. In the original schedule, the bridesmaid only needed to hand over the rings. Now there was an extra handwritten line added: “Bridesmaid’s Speech (2 minutes).” The handwriting was elegant, I recognized it. “Who added this?” The officiant lowered his voice: “Mr. Sterling specifically instructed this morning, saying he wanted to add a heartwarming segment.” “Your sister’s writing must be very good, Mr. Sterling praised the speech several times.” I pinched the edge of the paper tightly. “I don’t agree to this segment.” “This… there might not be time to adjust, the guests are all waiting.” The officiant looked troubled and glanced towards the altar. Ethan turned his head at this moment, meeting my gaze. He gave me a slight nod, barely managing to pull a smile at the corner of his mouth. I didn’t say anything more and walked to the reserved seat in the first row. My mom pulled me to sit down and whispered: “Chloe prepared a speech, saying she wants to thank you for taking care of her these years. This child is so thoughtful.” The music changed tune at this moment. The officiant’s voice came through the microphone: “Next, let’s welcome the bride’s sister, today’s bridesmaid Ms. Chloe, to send her blessings to her sister.” Applause rang out. Chloe took the microphone, her gaze sweeping over the audience, finally resting on Ethan’s face. “Thank you everyone, today is my sister’s most important day. As a younger sister, I should have said some words of blessing.” She paused, her fingers gently rubbing the microphone. “But I found out that if I don’t say some things today, I might never have the chance.” There was a slight commotion offstage. Ethan’s body obviously stiffened. Chloe’s voice began to tremble: “These years, I’ve watched my sister and Ethan walk along the way.” “I know how much my sister has given, and I also know… some feelings were misplaced from the very beginning.” She raised her eyes, looking straight at Ethan. The light hit her face, and I saw tears sparkling in the corners of her eyes. She spoke word by word, her voice choked but clear. “Some loves are destined to cross boundaries. Even if it means bearing the infamy of the whole world, there’s no way to pretend it doesn’t exist.” The hall fell into dead silence instantly. Then, whispers spread like a tide. “What does she mean by that?” “Oh my god, is this a confession?” “The bride is still sitting right there!” My mom suddenly grabbed my hand tightly: “What nonsense is Chloe talking about!” I withdrew my hand, my gaze nailed to the stage. The color drained completely from Ethan’s face. His lips moved, as if he wanted to say something, but no sound came out. Chloe continued: “I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t control it. Ethan, I…” Ethan didn’t step forward to stop her, just kept looking at her. The officiant hurriedly stepped forward to smooth things over: “The bridesmaid is a bit emotional, we understand this deep sisterly bond, haha! Next let’s…” I didn’t hear clearly what came after. My gaze fell on Ethan’s hand hanging by his side. My gaze froze. The position and shape of that scar were exactly the same as the hand resting on the vanity in the photo. My phone vibrated in my palm. I looked down, the screen lit up with the latest reply from the anonymous post. The poster posted a new picture. And at the edge of the frame, a platinum wedding band was being gently pushed into the lens by another hand. I looked up, looking at Ethan’s hand again. That wedding band, and the ring being pushed into the lens in the photo, were the same style. 2 Under everyone’s spectating gazes, the ceremony eventually ended hastily. My mother chased after me wanting to say something, I shook off her hand and walked straight to the lounge on the second floor of the hotel. The door wasn’t locked. Ethan was standing by the window. Hearing the noise, he turned around. He spoke first, his voice low and hoarse: “Sarah, about today… I’m sorry.” “Since when?” Ethan’s Adam’s apple bobbed, he didn’t deny it. He called my name again: “Sarah, we’ve known each other for ten years.” “So?” “So…” He looked up, his eyes showing a weariness of someone giving up. “So I can’t lie to you anymore, and I can’t lie to myself either.” The AC in the room was turned up too high, I felt cold. “Explain clearly.” Ethan took a deep breath: “My feelings for you have always been gratitude. During the hardest times of the company, you were the one who stayed with me. Those proposals, those clients… without you, there would be no Ethan Sterling today.” His fingers unconsciously rubbed the ring on his ring finger. “But gratitude is not love.” I heard my own voice, remarkably calm: “Is this your reason for cheating on me? Love is love, not love is not love, but what was the meaning of pulling this stunt at the wedding? Do you enjoy seeing me make a fool of myself?” He didn’t answer immediately. But sometimes, silence itself is an answer. He finally said it: “All these years, the person I really wanted to marry has always been Chloe.” “When did it start?” Ethan looked away: “Three years ago. That time you went on a business trip to Seattle to follow up on a project, I drank too much, and she came to take care of me… we haven’t stopped since then.” Three years ago. I calculated the time. That was when I landed his first ten-million-dollar order for him. I stayed up for four days and three nights in Seattle. On the phone, he said “You’ve worked hard, honey,” and then turned around and got into my sister’s bed. How ridiculous. “Did you know she was going to confess her love to you at the wedding?” “It was Chloe’s idea.” Ethan’s voice grew lower and lower. “She said… this would force you to let go, that you wouldn’t be able to stand the public opinion and would take the initiative to cancel the wedding.” “If you wanted to marry her, why didn’t you just tell me directly?” He smiled bitterly: “I didn’t dare. Sarah, you are too dominant. Half of the company’s shares are in your name, and the core team only listens to you. If I took the initiative to break up, I would have nothing.” I nodded. So that’s how it is. Not love, but calculation. Not impulse, but weighing the options. Ethan stood up: “I can compensate you. I can give up the shares, and the company too…” “Ethan.” I interrupted, reaching out my hand to him: “Give me back the wedding ring.” He subconsciously protected his finger: “Sarah, we can still…” “Give it back.” After a few seconds of standoff, he slowly took off the ring and placed it in my palm. After getting the ring, I flushed it down the toilet without hesitation. As I left, I heard Ethan’s voice. “I don’t love you anymore, I love Chloe.” He seemed to be convincing himself. I didn’t look back. The moment I opened the door, I saw Chloe leaning against the wall in the hallway. She was holding up her phone, the screen facing me. It wasn’t a photo or a chat record on the screen. It was an editing interface of a forum backend. The title bar of the post read: [Spilling the tea on my sister’s “debt-repayment” wedding] Poster ID: Rippling_Chloe. She looked up, waved the phone at me, and a sickly sweet smile curled at the corners of her mouth. 3 Even though these things happened, there were no ripples in my heart. The next day, I got up as usual and went to work under the strange gazes of my subordinates. While working, I thought about why Ethan and I had come to this point today. When driving home in the evening, my fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly, my nails sinking into the leather cover. The lights were on in the living room. My mom was sitting on the sofa. My dad was standing by the window smoking, with three or four cigarette butts already piled up in the ashtray. Seeing me, my mom stood up, her voice a bit weak: “You’re back, are you hungry? There’s soup in the kitchen…” “Did you guys know everything?” Everyone knew, everyone kept it from me. Why? Just to make Chloe happy? I interrupted her, my voice sounding particularly clear in the quiet living room. My mom’s hand stopped in mid-air, looking a bit embarrassed: “Know what?” “Know about Ethan and Chloe, know what was going to happen at the wedding today. Know that I was kept in the dark like an idiot.” My dad put out his cigarette and turned around: “Sarah, things aren’t what you think.” “Then what are they?” My mom sat back on the sofa, twisting a tissue with her fingers: “Chloe… it hasn’t been easy for her. Her health has been poor since childhood; you know about her heart condition. She’s been bitter these years, and Ethan is sincere towards her…” “And so? So I should yield?” My mom’s voice suddenly rose: “She’s your sister! Can’t you be considerate? The doctor said her emotions can’t be stimulated. After making this scene today, she took two pills as soon as she got home!” I laughed. “Mom, today was my wedding, I was the one humiliated in public, I was the one whose fiancé had an affair with my sister. You’re worried about her taking medicine, but did you worry about how I drove back?” My mom opened her mouth but didn’t speak. My dad walked over: “Sarah, Ethan doesn’t have you in his heart, forcing it is useless. Better to endure a short pain than a long one. Seeing it clearly now is better than getting a divorce after marriage.” “When did you find out?” Silence. “I’m asking, when did you find out!” My dad looked away: “Last year, the pregnancy test report Chloe brought back, the child was Ethan’s.” “She was pregnant?” 4 My mom said softly: “She lost it. She said she didn’t want to affect you guys, so she went and did it secretly by herself. She hemorrhaged after the surgery and almost didn’t make it… Sarah, she sacrificed so much for you, can’t you just let her have this?” I looked at my mom’s face. I took a deep breath: “She knew clearly that Ethan was her brother-in-law, yet she still had an affair with him and even got pregnant with his child. I’m obviously the victim here, but you think I owe her?” My mom grabbed my hand: “It’s not owing, it’s sisterhood. Mom knows you feel wronged, but family always has to be understanding of each other. We will go talk to Ethan about compensation, company shares…” I pulled my hand back. “Where is Chloe now?” “Resting upstairs, don’t go make a fuss with her, she just took her medicine…” I didn’t finish listening, turned around, and went upstairs. Back in my own room, I locked the door. The wedding dress was still thrown by the bed, the veil trampled underfoot. My phone rang. It was an unknown number. I swiped to answer but didn’t speak. Chloe’s voice came through the receiver, carrying a smile: “Sis, did Mom advise you to let me have him?” I held the phone, making no sound. “Guess where Ethan is right now?” She paused. “In my room. He said he didn’t want to go home tonight, afraid you might do something foolish.” She laughed even harder: “Sis, I won again.” The call ended. I sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the completely dark sky outside the window. The phone buzzed again. This time it was a picture message. The sender was still that unknown number. I opened it. The moment the photo loaded, my breathing stopped. Ethan and Chloe, naked and embracing on my marital bed. The “Double Happiness” character on the headboard was still the one I personally pasted yesterday; the red paper cutting was exceptionally glaring in the photo. The bottom right corner of the photo had the timestamp. [2023.10.7 22:47] The night before the wedding. I zoomed in on the photo and saw Chloe’s smiling face facing the camera, and Ethan’s sleeping profile. A line of text was attached below the MMS: [Sis, your bed is quite comfortable.] 5 At dawn, I got up and started packing. I had lived in this room for ten years. The closet was stuffed with odds and ends, which I pulled out one by one. In the bottom storage box, old company documents were piled up. I pulled out the first one, it was the bid for Sterling Tech’s first project. The signature on the cover was Ethan, but when I flipped to the planning attachment on the last page, the handwritten revision notes were in my handwriting. The second one, the third one, the fourth one… I couldn’t help but let out a cold sneer. For the core proposals of all major early projects, I wrote the first drafts. Market analysis, product architecture, even financing speech scripts, they were densely packed with my annotations. But the final submitted versions only had Ethan’s signature. I sat on the floor, spreading the documents out one by one. My phone vibrated beside me, it was Ethan. I answered it. “Sarah, let’s talk, about the company shares…” I interrupted him: “That project at the Southside Tech Park, who wrote the original bidding proposal?” There was silence on the other end of the phone for two seconds. “…You did.” “The first round of financing from Apex Capital, who made the PowerPoint?” “You did, but…” I asked: “But what? But all the credit went to you?” Ethan sighed: “The company was just starting out then, we needed someone to be the face of it. You are the unsung hero, I’ve always remembered that.” “And your way of remembering is by cheating on me?” “Sarah, matters of the heart can’t be forced.” “So you repay me in this way?” He didn’t speak. I hung up the phone and continued to rummage through the boxes. There was an old cell phone in the corner. I plugged in the charger to try it, and the screen actually lit up. The power-on password was my birthday. The photo album was empty, and there was only one text in the inbox. Sender: Chloe. [Ethan, Sis helped you so much, how can you repay the debt if you don’t marry her?] [I know you only have me in your heart, but let’s be realistic. Use her power to build up the company first, we can talk about the future later.] [Anyway, she loves you so much, she’ll believe whatever you say.] I stared at those few lines of text, my fingers ice cold.

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“The CEO of Harrison Group Exposed for Cheating!” The trending hashtag had barely lasted a day before I posted my clarification. “There is no third party in my relationship with Mr. Harrison. All these years, my feelings have been a foolish delusion, entirely unrequited.” My voice was flat, devoid of any hint of coercion or reluctance. “Out of jealousy, I fabricated the lie that he was having an affair with his secretary and cheating on me. I apologize to Ms. Monroe.” The internet exploded: “This morning we felt sorry for you and believed your lies! This afternoon, you contradict yourself! Go to hell, you pathetic wretch!” “You think we’re idiots, don’t you? If you’re a psychopath, get help!” An endless stream of curses flooded my phone, and my hand trembled slightly. “Are you satisfied?” Liam Harrison smiled. “You’ve finally learned your lesson. It would have been so much easier if you’d done this sooner.” “As a reward, I might even make time to accompany you to your next prenatal check-up.” “But tomorrow, I have to take Sarah Monroe to Iceland to see the Northern Lights. She’s been in a bad mood lately and needs a change of scenery. So, we’ll reschedule your appointment. You’ll just have to wait.” I ended the video call. The nurse behind me reminded me that the procedure was ready. I had waited ten years for him. I had waited long enough. 1 After I left home, the first place I went was a small, secluded clinic. Ten years ago, Liam Harrison knelt before my mother’s hospital bed here, swearing: “I will love Evelyn forever. I will never let her suffer a moment of injustice.” Ten years later, I had an abortion in that very same clinic. Behind the clinic, under an old willow tree, was a rusty iron box we had buried together. We had promised to open it in ten years. The box was corroded, but the papers inside were surprisingly intact. The first question was written in Liam Harrison’s flamboyant handwriting: 【Dear Evelyn, my future Mrs. Harrison, how have you spent your past ten years with him?】 I looked at the intimate endearment on the paper, a bitter laugh rising in my throat. 【Did you buy rings?】 Yes. A small diamond ring. I wore it on my ring finger for ten years, cherishing it. Even though it was less than a tenth the size of the one on Sarah Monroe’s hand. 【How’s the company? Did we get married?】 The company had indeed grown larger and larger, but so had the number of women around him. Every time I brought up marriage, Liam Harrison avoided the topic. We had been entangled for ten years without a marriage certificate, without a wedding. 【Do you have a baby?】 We did have a child once. But he was stillborn, covered in bruises, never having the chance to cry. Now I was pregnant again. Because Sarah Monroe wanted a child to “play with.” Liam Harrison said she was a career woman and couldn’t sacrifice her figure or time. The next question was mine. 【Over the past ten years, Mr. Harrison, what do you consider the most important thing in our relationship?】 What would Liam Harrison say? Trust, probably. After all, he always used to say, impatiently: “Evelyn, can’t you trust me more? Hannah, my assistant, and I are completely innocent.” “Sarah’s incredibly capable at work. Don’t always look at her with such suspicion. It’s not easy for a woman to get where she is today.” I had tried to convince myself that it was just professional contact. But their eyes didn’t lie. Their actions even less so. I remember the morning he attended his first board meeting as CEO. I woke up early to iron his shirt and chose a sapphire blue tie. I meticulously tied it for him. Just then, Sarah burst in, oblivious. Her gaze lingered on my hands for a second, then she held up a different tie, smiling. “Liam, this is a very formal occasion today. I suggest this dark patterned tie; it looks much more dignified.” Liam Harrison didn’t hesitate. He simply untied the knot I had just finished. The blue tie slipped to the floor. He took the one Sarah offered and, without a glance, tied it skillfully in front of the mirror. In the reflection, he saw my stunned expression. When he turned, he patted my shoulder. “Don’t misunderstand. Sarah has been by my side for a long time. She understands the dress code for these occasions better than you do.” I lowered my head, staring at the abandoned tie in my palm. I didn’t think I had misunderstood anything. 2 After the abortion. The second place I went was the ocean. Over ten years, I had mentioned countless times that I wanted a wedding by the sea. I lay on the yacht bed, enduring waves of delayed, dull pain. Sarah called. She sounded triumphant: “Liam’s luggage for his Iceland trip today, could you pack it for me? I’ll come by to pick it up later.” She paused, then chuckled softly. “But you don’t need to pack any underwear. I bought him new ones. He really likes the size and style.” A sudden, sharp cramp seized my lower abdomen. I bit my lip, refusing to make a sound. In the past, every time Sarah subtly provoked me like this, I would lose control. I’d call Liam Harrison in a hysterical rage, or storm into HR demanding they fire her. Just last week, Sarah had feigned concern: “Evelyn, they say a woman’s body changes after childbirth, becomes… looser. Liam is probably afraid of that, which is why he’s reluctant for me to have a baby. He’s just making you do the hard work instead.” I had immediately trashed her office. The commotion drew countless media outlets, eager for a scoop. After that, the scandal between Liam Harrison and his secretary was out in the open. Rumors spread like wildfire. It was a critical time for his company’s IPO, and the blow was devastating. He was known in the business world for his ruthlessness and vindictiveness. He ordered me to quickly issue a public statement clearing Sarah’s name. “If you cause any more trouble, I’ll take the child the moment it’s born. You’ll never see it again.” Between us, he still leaned more towards Sarah. On the bedside table, a painting of sunflowers rested. It was my mother’s, the only thing I had taken from home. My mother had left me many things, but over the years, to pay off debts, only this one painting remained. On countless sleepless nights, looking at that painting brought me immense comfort. I reached for it. The painting clattered to the floor. Something fell out from behind it. Ignoring the pain, I froze. Inside were some photos of a young Liam Harrison. He was only seventeen when my mother brought him to the city. In the photos, the boy wore a faded old T-shirt, his back straight, his eyes innocent yet sharp. Back then, his back didn’t bear those grotesque scars. My mother fully funded his university education. After graduation, he naturally joined Thorne Industries. He was smart and hardworking, and his future was bright. Until my father, a lifelong philanderer, died suddenly, collapsing amidst a bed of peonies. His illegitimate children, previously unseen, bared their claws, tearing savagely at the family fortune. I was caught completely off guard. All that was left for me was a shell of a company with only ten employees, and a mountain of soul-crushing debt. My mother, suffering a heart attack, also collapsed. Without money, we couldn’t afford a proper hospital. We found this small clinic, where she barely clung to life with basic medication. Liam Harrison appeared by my side. I cursed him, tried to drive him away, but he wouldn’t leave. Creditors were everywhere. We hid, living in constant fear. Sometimes, when there was no escape, cornered in an alley, he would immediately shield me tightly in his arms, covering my eyes with his broad hands. “Don’t be afraid. Don’t look.” Those scars were all from that time. 3 After two grueling years, all debts were repaid. The company finally began to show some promise. I tentatively suggested, “We should get married.” He paused, then smiled and ruffled my hair. “What’s the rush? It’s not the right time yet. Wait a little longer. I’ll save up to get you the most dazzling engagement ring, and we’ll have a spectacular wedding. I’ll marry you in style.” He leaned down and kissed me, reassuring me. “Don’t worry. You’ll always be my wife. Where would I go?” After that, his social engagements visibly increased. A new secretary also appeared by his side. Sarah began to infiltrate every corner of Liam Harrison’s life. By the time I realized something was wrong, it was already too late. I fought with him countless times. I gave him two choices: either fire Sarah or marry me. He remained silent, choosing neither. The disappointment within me grew. The first time I was pregnant, we were in the midst of our most intense cold war. Morning sickness plagued me day and night, my legs swelled horribly, and I’d wake up in agonizing pain from cramps. He rarely came home. I endured it all alone. He knew I loved the ocean. He habitually booked a five-day, five-night luxury cruise for my birthday. But on the deck, I saw Sarah, laughing brightly. On the second day of the trip, the cruise ship unexpectedly sank. A panicked crowd surged towards the lifeboats. I clutched my heavy belly, distraught and helpless. He had paid a high price for two lifeboat spots and, after securing them, immediately reached out to help me. But Sarah rushed out, crying and pushing me away. “Liam, she’s pregnant! The rescue workers will prioritize putting her on the other lifeboat! What about me…?” Liam Harrison hesitated. The crowd pushed and shoved violently. Something fell from above, and I slipped. The sea swallowed me whole. “Evelyn!” When I woke, excruciating pain radiated from my lower body. The doctor told me the baby was gone. It was a boy. I only saw him for a moment before tears streamed down my face—his eyes and brows were so much like Liam Harrison’s. Halfway through the cruise, I staggered out of bed. I opened the small urn I had brought from home. “Baby,” I whispered to the churning waves, “Mama is so sorry.” “Mama will leave you here, alright?” My vision blurred with tears. I scattered his ashes over the ocean. 4 After losing the baby, I became increasingly silent. Whether he spoke kindly or erupted in a rage, I barely bothered to lift my eyelids at Liam Harrison. He couldn’t take it anymore. He fell to his knees by my bed, his eyes red, and roared, “What do you want me to do to make you forgive me? Tell me!” After that, he came home almost every day, forcing me to share the bed. I didn’t resist, but I didn’t respond either. I became pregnant again. Looking at the prenatal report, a flicker of hope stirred within me. I longed for this child to come back to me. Liam Harrison finally promised he would cut ties with Sarah. He started coming home regularly, sometimes bringing a bouquet of lilies to help me sleep. At night, he would wrap his arms around my increasingly heavy waist from behind. Perhaps the arrival of this child could truly change something. Not long after, I found a pair of silk stockings that weren’t mine in Liam Harrison’s suit pocket. They still carried Sarah’s warmth, like a slap across my face. Distraught, I went to the company. Through the glass, I saw Sarah, the woman Liam Harrison claimed to have fired long ago. Her office was directly across from his, and on her desk sat a large bouquet of lilies. She saw me, unsurprised, even raising her left hand to flash the ring on her ring finger in a defiant gesture. I grabbed everything within reach, smashing it furiously towards that infuriating scene! Liam Harrison rushed out, his face ashen. In a fit of rage, he raised his hand and slapped me hard. “Who let you in? This is a company! If you want to make a scene, go home!” I clutched my face, looking at his disgusted expression. How had we come to this? After the scandal broke, the stock price plummeted, and the board of directors was in chaos. Liam Harrison ordered me to immediately clear Sarah’s name. “Issue a statement saying everything was your deranged delusion! Otherwise—” his threatening gaze slid to my swollen belly. This was my only lifeline. He was satisfied with the instant paleness of my face. “I want to see your clarification statement before I leave the country.” “Sarah hasn’t been feeling well lately. I’m taking her to Iceland to relax. She’s always loved the Northern Lights there.”

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At the banquet in my previous life. The family needed a marriage alliance, my brother asked who I wanted to choose. I unhesitatingly chose the playboy childhood sweetheart, Ethan Carter. But after marriage, he still kept in touch with his first love, and they even had a child. Facing friends’ teasing, he sneered: “Amelia Grant is the world’s biggest bootlicker. No matter what I do, she won’t leave me.” My heart finally died, turned and left. But had a car accident on the highway, resulting in two lives lost (me and the unborn child). Opening my eyes again, I returned to the day of the cocktail party. 1 “Amelia, have you decided who to choose?” My brother asked me gently. I stood there trembling, still unwilling to believe that rebirth had happened to me. Before I could reply, Ethan’s mother came to me first, handing me the ancestral bracelet. She smiled gently and said: “Amy will definitely choose our brat. They grew up together, have deep feelings, others can’t compare.” “Mom, drunk before drinking? Who wants to marry Amelia Grant? Bad grades, short, looks just so-so. Marrying her? Our Carter family’s genes would be tainted.” Ethan Carter frowned, looking at me with a bit more disgust in his eyes. Just like in my previous life, as toxic as ever. But in my previous life, I only thought it was because of childhood bickering, and didn’t notice at all. Ethan truly despises me right now. Coming back to my senses, I immediately stepped back two steps. “Mrs. Carter, Ethan and I… are just friends.” As soon as the words fell, the people around quieted down instantly. Everyone knew the Grant and Carter families had been friends for a century. Everyone also knew that I had liked Ethan since childhood. Mrs. Carter’s face stiffened. She moved her gaze away from me and patted her son’s shoulder hard. “What nonsense are you talking about? Our family marrying Amy is a blessing from past lives.” Ethan didn’t seem to expect me to say such a thing. His originally cold face instantly dropped a few degrees. I tremblingly pulled my brother’s suit, red-eyed and whispered: “I’m not feeling well, want to go home.” The marriage alliance isn’t urgent. My brother just raised his hand to call someone to take me back first. But in the next second, Ethan grabbed my hand, walking out abruptly, also saying coldly: “Brother Julian, I’ll take Amy back.” (Wait, Julian is prohibited, replacing with Lucas) “Brother Lucas, I’ll take Amy back.” He held my hand tightly, I couldn’t break free at all. Wanted to call for help, but turned back to find Mrs. Carter had already blocked in front of my brother. Outside the hotel. Ethan threw off my hand without hesitation. My high heels uncontrollably leaned back a step, subconsciously reached out to him. Ethan didn’t expect it either, just wanted to reach out to catch me. I retracted my hand quickly, sat heavily on the ground on my butt. A stinging sensation went straight to my head, my face wrinkled in pain. Ethan’s face changed, stepped forward wanting to help me up. I spoke without hesitation: “Don’t come near me.” After recovering, I took off my high heels, supported myself on the ground with both hands and stood up. This series of reactions made Ethan completely darken his face. He sneered: “What tricks are you playing again? Playing hard to get? Amelia Grant, when did your methods become so disgusting?” I looked up, tears I didn’t even notice were in my eyes. “Ethan Carter…” Originally wanted to say a lot, but meeting his eyes. Meeting his disgusting gaze, all words seemed like a thorn stuck in the throat. I lowered my head and laughed out loud. Before he could say anything, I threw the high heels worth thousands of dollars on the ground, turned around barefoot and left without hesitation. This pair of shoes was given by Ethan on my coming-of-age ceremony. Heard from Mrs. Carter that he carefully selected these shoes for a long time. Knowing today’s banquet was important, so I specially chose these shoes. But I forgot, these shoes are too big, they don’t belong to me. I also forgot, inappropriate people, will never be appropriate. 2 Ethan Carter didn’t chase after me. To him, this was just my manipulative tactic of playing hard to get. When I got home, I lay in the bathtub drowsy. My mind kept replaying everything that happened in my previous life. My hands uncontrollably grabbed the edge of the bathtub. Water spread to my nose, I choked severely a few times before climbing up completely awake, wrapped in a bathrobe looking at myself in the mirror. This face has no burn marks, nothing. I touched my face, lowered my head and sobbed. In my previous life, the Carter house caught fire, Ethan unhesitatingly saved his first love and abandoned me. I was left behind, when rescued. Already lost a perfect face. Afterwards, Ethan explained, “I didn’t see you. Annie’s legs were crushed at that time, the fire was so big, I definitely had to save her first.” Thinking back to this, I raised my hand and slapped myself in the face. Ridiculous, stupid as a dog in the previous life, played around by Ethan’s few words. Probably because of rebirth. This whole night repeatedly dreaming of past life events. When woke up in the morning, the whole person was exhausted and uncomfortable. Perhaps sensing something wrong with me last night. My brother, who usually went to the company early, was waiting for me downstairs at this moment. “Come eat breakfast when you wake up.” My brother looked at the dark circles under my eyes, showing a touch of heartache. “Did brother wake you up when coming back last night?” I shook my head, red-eyed rushed into my brother’s arms. Hands tightly hugged my brother. My brother was stunned, put down the newspaper and gently patted my back. He said softly: “If liking the Carter boy is too tiring, then don’t like him, okay? If you don’t marry in this life, brother can also support you.” I sniffled chokingly. Actually there was no marriage alliance at all, it was brother seeing I liked Ethan, deliberately arranged like this. Thinking of brother dying to save me in the previous life. My heart hurt more and more, hugging tighter and tighter. Until a slight cough woke me up. I looked back with red eyes. A man sat on the sofa at some point, tears spinning in eyes, I couldn’t see the person clearly. The man hooked his lips and smiled: “Good morning, little princess.” I was stunned for a moment, reacted and quickly pushed out of my brother’s arms, also recognized the person in front was Sebastian Ford. Brother’s best friend. When brother died back then, Sebastian avenged brother, beating the murderer to death. Last time seeing him. Was in prison, he said he wanted to take me away, said brother’s death wasn’t that simple. I was possessed. Always believed people who got along for decades wouldn’t become like that. When I turned back to think of him. I was already in a car accident and difficult labor on the highway. Suddenly, I also realized the last voice I heard before dying. “Why are you here.” I spoke in surprise. At this time point. He should be sleeping because of partying too late last night. Sebastian raised his eyebrows and chuckled. “Cough cough.” Brother coughed lightly, signaling breakfast with eyes. I nodded and sat down to eat breakfast, looking back at the man behind from time to time. After eating for a while, brother hesitated for a moment but still spoke: “Amelia, did Ethan make you angry recently?” I looked at brother, didn’t understand the meaning in his words. Brother opened his phone, found the latest moment posted by Ethan. It was a photo on the mountain top full of fog, also captioned: “What to do? Made the little princess angry, how to coax?” I subconsciously tightened the spoon, trembling all over without realizing it. In previous life because of this moment. Made me always think Ethan also liked me. Until later I knew, the little princess in his mouth was his first love Nina, never me. The originally delicious porridge, at this moment tasted like wax. Couldn’t eat nor swallow. I lowered my eyes and said tremblingly: “Brother, I don’t want to mention Ethan Carter.” In this life, I don’t want to have any involvement with Ethan Carter anymore. Liking him for twenty years, was my self-sentimentality. Brother’s face stunned, he didn’t speak, just clicked into Ethan’s chat record. The chat record above was still brother asking him about my trace. Brother looked a few times, unhesitatingly blocked and deleted. He smiled gently: “With brother here, you won’t suffer any grievance.” I looked at brother with tears in my eyes. Brother is always like this, choosing me without hesitation. I like Ethan, he paves the way for me. I don’t like him, he solves it for me. 3 After breakfast. Brother took me to the company. Originally this company was intended for me to inherit. Just because I married Ethan. I always wanted to give time to Ethan. Basically never came to the company. Making many problems in the company, finally brother returned to solve. Everyone knew I liked Ethan. Secretly handed me a special poster of Ethan. A hand took the poster back faster than me. I looked up, seeing Sebastian crumbling the poster into a ball and throwing it into the trash can. Brother also spoke: “From now on, Ethan Carter’s things are not allowed in the company.” I suddenly remembered Ethan is a big star. Entering the office, brother ordered the assistant again. “Pass it down, tear off any Ethan Carter posters posted. Also… “Brother, no need for this.” I interrupted. After all, still have business dealings with the Carter family, plus the relationship between the two families. Brother saw my worry. He shook his head and chuckled: “I said I won’t let you suffer grievance.” Voice fell, he raised his hand to let the assistant do as told. Brother had a temporary meeting. Only Sebastian and I were left in the entire office. Not much interaction with him. Only thing known, he has someone he liked for many years. But love unrequited, heard the other party has someone liked. Watching him staring at me, I uncomfortably turned my head. After a while, the phone in the bag rang. Took out the phone to look, stunned for a few seconds then hung up without hesitation. Sebastian raised eyebrows and chuckled: “Not answering?” “Spam call.” I coldly faced. After a while the phone received a text message. [I’m sick, bring me medicine.] Followed by a hotel room number. I stared at the phone frowning. Didn’t notice Sebastian who had already stood up. When reacting, Sebastian raised eyebrows smiling: “Yo, who is sending room number to the little princess?” My safety awareness has always been strong. Could sense immediately when Ethan approached. But at this moment I was obviously startled, panting heavily. Sebastian seemed not to expect it either, handing me water on the side, but didn’t forget to tease: “This room number is a bit familiar, seems to be Young Master Carter’s exclusive room?” Every rich kid has exclusive private rooms and rooms everywhere. Ethan’s room number is 0726. I didn’t notice anything before. Only realized now, the room number is Nina’s birthday. My fingertips kept trembling. Sebastian who was still teasing me also instantly sensed something wrong. He frowned and tentatively asked: “What’s wrong? Did that Carter kid bully you? “Brother I don’t have other skills, beating people is still okay.” I shook my head gently. Immediately blocked and deleted Ethan’s number. “Person who is not important anymore, getting into trouble for unimportant person, not worth it.” I looked up at Sebastian. His brows and eyes seemed able to flirt. Staring at me a bit blushing. Sebastian obviously didn’t believe. 4 Ethan Carter in the hotel was still waiting for medicine. Yesterday his quarrel with Amelia was seen by someone. Someone immediately teased in the group chat. [Yo yo yo, childhood sweethearts breaking up oh.] [Little Princess Grant looks very angry this time.] [Ethan, don’t always make Amelia angry, or else one day she ignores you, you’ll regret too late.] Looking at the messages in the group. Ethan sneered coldly. Knowing Amelia since childhood, he knew exactly what kind of character she had. Wait for her to bring medicine, casually buy a small trinket to coax, she will be a bootlicker as usual. Done such things thousands of times. Ethan was tired of it. He leaned lazily on the sofa, scrolled videos for more than half an hour but didn’t wait for his medicine. People in the group were still watching the show asking if medicine was delivered. Sentence after sentence drove Ethan anxious directly. He immediately exited the video scrolling interface, immediately opened the pinned place, hesitated a bit and made a call. Just connected. It was the sound of unable to connect. Ethan was stunned. He stared at the phone, called again. The other party still showed unable to connect. Young Master Carter had never been blocked since childhood, didn’t know this was being blocked. He searched on Baidu (Google). After finding the result, he was stunned on the spot for a long time. When recovering, he instantly blackened his face and threw the newly bought phone on the ground. The phone instantly smashed to pieces. “Amelia Grant, good for you.” Amelia far away didn’t know what happened at all. Didn’t care what would happen to Ethan. It was already twelve noon after brother finished the meeting. Sebastian actively proposed: “Eat hot pot, craving.” I looked at Sebastian. Every time in bad mood, I always liked eating spicy hot pot. Numbing myself with spice so no time to think about these annoying things. Just now was indeed annoyed by Ethan. But much better now. Brother didn’t know what happened, seeing I had no objection immediately asked assistant to arrange three seats. Hot pot restaurant chose the frequently visited one. Arriving at the store entrance, I seemed to have a long-lost feeling. Previous life because of pregnancy. Ethan said hot pot would affect child’s development. For full nine months, I didn’t touch anything spicy. Fuck you Ethan Carter. Fuck your affecting child. Once sat down, I ordered everything once, and requested the manager: “I want all spicy, extra spicy, explosive spicy.” My temper was so irritable for the first time. Even the manager was a bit surprised. Suddenly, I remembered brother said Sebastian doesn’t eat spicy, I hurriedly said again: “Split pot ha.” Arranged special private room. I didn’t worry about ladylike image being affected. After serving, while taking care of eating, while eating non-stop. Brother inquired Sebastian with curious eyes. Sebastian waved his hand. Just eating eating, loud noise came from outside. I always liked quietness, hearing noisy sound instantly face wrinkled. Sebastian seeing this reached out greeting manager: “We book the whole place today, those not finished can continue eating, don’t arrange more people, a bit noisy.” Saying, took out a black card. Manager didn’t take, face a bit hesitant: “Young Master Ford, it’s Young Master Carter came.” Neither side easy to offend. Manager dared not make decision. My action of eating hot pot stopped, before we reacted, a voice faster than body. “Brother Lucas, shouldn’t mind I bring someone together right?”

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The guy from the mountains the Ronald family sponsored finally made it into graduate school. He was ecstatic, sharing his rags-to-riches story on social media—the journey from his small town to the city. He included a photo of himself looking up at Julia, and a caption that hit me like a physical blow: [My patron saint, my cornerstone, the most unique presence in my life~] The comments were a chorus of adoration. [Seriously, you’re so inspiring! I’m taking notes!] [Those eyes aren’t exactly professional, are they? Ship it! I’m officially a shipper!] (Liked by the original poster) [OMG, invite me to the wedding, I’ll put my entire savings into the red envelope!] (Liked by the original poster) [Isn’t that Crestwood U’s youngest Master’s supervisor? Being the academic workhorse for your savior—that’s one hell of a way to repay a debt!] … Jasper Cole pinned his own comment: [Thanks for all the well wishes! Hoping to pick up a second certificate (a marriage license) after graduation~.jpg] I stared at the screen, then scrolled to his most recent update. It was a few screenshots of Jasper’s thesis and the full Acknowledgments section. Every line mentioned Julia’s all-nighters, her patient guidance, and her encouragement. I lingered over the images. I recognized the content. I’d seen those exact drafts on Julia’s laptop. She’d told me the paper was critically important to her work. I had run a high fever, staying up late to help her review it, only to find out I was dressing up a borrowed bride. In that instant, I finally understood that even the most meticulously engineered life—the most solid marriage—could develop a fatal fissure. 1 When I walked into the house, I froze. A guy in a tank top, wearing my personalized house slippers, was busy chopping fruit in the kitchen. When he saw me, a flicker of irritation at being interrupted crossed his eyes, quickly masked. “Ezra? I’ve seen your picture. You’re even handsomer in person.” He came out, holding the fruit bowl. He was completely at ease, as if he owned the place. Julia was sitting on the sun-drenched balcony, absorbed in her laptop, so focused she hadn’t even registered my arrival. The academic exchange I was on wasn’t supposed to end until two days from now, but my section was complete, so I’d flown home early. “I’m Jasper, Ezra. Gen must have mentioned me.” He set the bowl down and then lifted his gaze to Julia with an intensely devoted look. “I’ve been writing my thesis these past few days. My dorm was so loud, I just couldn’t sleep, so Gen invited me to stay here for a bit. “Don’t worry, Ezra. I can handle all the chores. You just focus on your job. I’ll take care of Gen.” My brow furrowed instinctively. Because his dorm was too loud, Julia brought him home? That was a difficult justification to swallow. Julia and I grew up together. She wasn’t the kind of person to abandon basic boundaries out of simple pity. The reason I agreed to marry her in the first place was that we knew each other’s blueprint. We were intellectual equals, a formidable pair. Even if we couldn’t be a passionately romantic couple, we certainly wouldn’t become bitter enemies. Besides, in many marriages, a perfect fit matters more than mere feeling. Julia was devastatingly smart, gorgeous, came from old money, and had no bad habits. The Kane and Ronald families were long-time business partners. It wasn’t a dramatic corporate merger, but it was a clear symbiosis. As a marriage partner, there was no better choice. But more than that. We did like each other, fiercely, beyond all the careful calculations. To this day, the memory of her believing I was going on a blind date—flying across two continents from an academic conference to appear on my doorstep—could still make my chest ache. Julia Ronald, always so composed and aloof, had been a beautiful mess that day. Her hair was wind-bitten, her clothes were wrinkled from a night of anxiety, and her red-rimmed eyes showed the strain of sleepless nights. “Ezra Kane, if you want to get married, will you marry me?” I stood in the doorway, holding two heavy bags of trash, completely stunned. Julia was a pure scientist. She wasn’t good at expressing emotion; she’d never once told me she loved me. Even her attempts at comfort were awkward. When I lost the top spot in a class competition, she poked my head and mocked, “You’re pathetic. Try to catch up next time.” Then she’d grab my test paper and dissect all my mistakes. She never once considered missing a question just to make me feel better. … We married naturally, becoming everyone’s definition of the ‘Perfect Equation.’ I remember the night before I left for my overseas fellowship. After we made love, she tucked her head into my chest, a rare moment of vulnerability. “Ezra, let’s have a baby.” I softly agreed. Barring any unforeseen event, we were supposed to be endgame. But now, it seemed complicated. 2 My face set into a hard mask, and I walked straight past Jasper, my leather soles hitting the freshly polished wood floor. “Wait, Ezra, I just mopped this morning! Couldn’t you change your shoes…?” Jasper gasped in alarm, which finally drew Julia’s attention. I gave him a cold look. “Slippers are personal items. I don’t like wearing what other people have worn.” The guest slippers in our house are completely different from that pair. More importantly, Julia and I wear matching couple’s slippers. They were clearly visible by the door. Jasper froze. He had assumed I would endure his presence, given that the Ronalds sponsored him and Julia brought him here. He thought I’d be forced to swallow my anger. But I didn’t care about those politics. He quickly peeled off the slippers and put them in front of me, sounding flustered. “I—I’m so sorry. Where I grew up, a lot of people share one pair of slippers. I didn’t realize you had so many rules… and I’ve never seen slippers this nice.” Julia came in from the balcony with her water glass. Jasper glanced up at her, his eyes full of unspoken appeal for rescue. The woman he saw as his savior didn’t immediately take the bait. When Julia saw me, the coolness in her eyes softened. “You finished early? Why didn’t you tell me so I could pick you up?” I tossed my carry-on bag onto the sofa, about to speak, but Jasper’s choked voice cut me off. “Gen, I’m so sorry. I think I made Ezra mad. I truly didn’t know I couldn’t wear his slippers… I’ll buy you a new pair to replace them…” Julia looked at him, then shifted her gaze back to me. “This is Jasper Cole. I mentioned him to you—he just started grad school. His dorm situation is pretty bad, so he’s staying here for a few days.” I knew the Ronald family sponsored numerous students. Jasper Cole was one of them. He had four sisters and a younger brother. Jasper was the eldest. Without the Ronalds, he likely would have ended up like his three sisters, married off right after turning eighteen. I knew of him. But I hadn’t known that, in the single month I was away, he had moved into my home, wearing my footwear. “Ezra, I’m just a small-town guy. I don’t know any better. Please don’t hold it against me. Now that we’ll be living together, maybe you can teach me the house rules…” Small-town guy? Living together? I gave a harsh laugh. “What about the watch on your wrist? And the cologne you’re wearing? I keep those in the master bathroom, next to the shower. We may not have house rules, but didn’t your school teach you not to take what isn’t yours?” I scoffed, picked up my slippers, and tossed them straight into the trash can. There were four pairs of perfectly clean guest slippers in the rack by the door. He deliberately chose Julia’s and my couple’s set. Julia frowned slightly, looking exasperated. “We’ll go out and buy a new pair after dinner. It’s just a pair of slippers, Ezra.” I rejected the idea flatly. “I’ve been awake for fifteen hours. I don’t have the time or the energy to go out just to replace a pair of slippers.” Julia opened her mouth but said nothing. The pressure in the room was suffocating. Jasper tugged at his pants, looking miserable, and meekly apologized. “I’m sorry, Ezra. I’ll mop the floor until it’s spotless. And I’ll buy the slippers.” “We have a robot vacuum. Don’t put on a performance of unnecessary suffering in front of me.” I walked straight back to the bedroom. Behind me, I heard a stifled, humiliated gasp. 3 By the time I’d washed up and come out, Jasper Cole had already packed his bags and left. Julia was leaned against the sofa, her eyes lowered. Her profile was soft yet cool, her eyelashes thick and dark. “You’re angry. What is the reason for the anger?” We had agreed when we married that clear communication was paramount. Say what you mean directly; it saves time wasted on speculation and second-guessing. We weren’t going to test our relationship with the silent treatment. “Professor Ronald, bringing a grown man to live in our home? That’s not a choice you would make.” I was blunt. She covered her mouth and let out a light laugh, her eyes shining with warmth. “Are you jealous, Ezra? I thought you didn’t care about me anymore.” I paused. The flattery was tempting— But it was clearly not the answer I was looking for. “He’s just a student sponsored by the Ronalds. He needs a temporary place to stay because of the dorm environment and social issues. “The apartments my parents offered were either too far or needed to be cleaned…” I smirked. “Julia, without the Ronald family, without you, would those ‘difficulties’ even register as problems? The complaints about not being used to dorm life, or being scared to talk to roommates? Those are not the words of a young man from an impoverished background. “And he’s twenty-seven, not seventeen.” He spent two years retaking the college entrance exam and three years trying for grad school. Julia might believe his flimsy excuses, but I wouldn’t. Didn’t those constantly updated videos and commented replies speak volumes about his intentions? You didn’t need a man’s intuition to see it; anyone with eyes could tell. “I know. That’s why I told him to go back.” She sat next to me and rested her head on my shoulder. “I’ve been so exhausted lately. I can’t even sleep soundly when you’re not here… “Julia Ronald can live without anyone, but she can’t live without Ezra Kane. “You have to trust me.” I thought for a moment, then nodded. If twenty-plus years of friendship and marriage could be shaken this easily, what did my absolute commitment to Julia mean? I still believed she was fundamentally a good person. Even if we lacked fiery romance, she wouldn’t do anything dishonorable. The next morning, I drove to the lab in Julia’s car as usual. She still brewed my herbal tea before dawn, preparing my day’s vitamins and fruit with meticulous care. Nothing seemed to have changed. During my lunch break, I checked my phone. The algorithm immediately served up Jasper’s latest plog: [I must fly like a bird toward my mountain. Thank you to my Goddess!] The first picture in the album was of my favorite book. When Julia and I first got married, I used to hold her and ask her to read it to me every night. But the copy she gave to Jasper? It had the author’s signature. My hand felt stiff as I scrolled down. Below the book was a screenshot of her chat history with him. Gen: [Don’t dwell on such small matters.] Gen: [If you’re upset, go to the lab. You shouldn’t waste your energy on something like slippers.] World’s Cutest Stud: [Well, why can someone else waste theirs?] Gen: [I can’t control others. I don’t allow you to waste yours.] World’s Cutest Stud: [Hehe, I’m honored~ Yes, ma’am! Salute.jpg] … I slid through the comments, feeling the blood drain from my entire body. [OMG, what kind of angelic supervisor is this? She is so protective!] (Liked by the original poster) [The domineering CEO-style mentor. And her face is absolutely right for the role.] (Liked by the original poster) [I’m obsessed. Is it too late to go back and get a grad degree?] [Don’t be delusional, commenter above. The supervisors we get are like mine: three sentences, and two of them are about how bad my paper is. Must be original content.] [Keep the updates coming! I love shipping you two in my free time!] (Liked by the original poster) … Distracted, I took the list a colleague handed me. “Ezra, this is the list of students Crestwood U selected for the project. Want to take a look?” I nodded, signing my name without looking. This was a joint project between our lab and CU. The CU contact hoped we could give their students some exposure. Our project team agreed to let them send resumes for screening. We planned to keep about ten students. I drove home that night. Julia had already cooked dinner. I changed into the new slippers she had bought for me and put my phone in front of her. “Why didn’t you bring back a signed copy of that book for me?” She didn’t like social media; she preferred phone calls for communication. I needed to make her see how Jasper interpreted her every action. And how everyone else perceived their relationship. Her frown deepened, and she put the phone down, her voice tight. “I understand.” Julia explained the signed book was a gift she asked a contact to bring back for a group of her students, not just Jasper. I didn’t get one because, she claimed, I preferred the content to the celebrity. As for Jasper, she said she would handle it. I looked at her and gave a slow nod. “Okay. I trust you.” One last time. 4 Life resumed its routine. The lab project got underway. Just as I was preparing to pull an all-nighter, Julia called. Professor Ronald, who usually preferred home-cooked meals, was actually taking me out on a dinner date. I looked at the empty lab and readily agreed. It was the familiar old restaurant, one Julia and I had frequented since high school. They made the best smoked and cured meats in the city. Just as we sat down, a familiar figure appeared nearby. It was Jasper Cole. He was carrying a tray, pouring water and taking orders for a newly arrived table. When he saw us—no, when he saw Julia—his eyes immediately brimmed with tears. He lowered his head, trying to hide his distress, his hand gripping the order pad so tightly his knuckles turned white. I swirled the drink in my glass, watching him in silence. Julia looked at him, a flicker of concern crossing her features. “Did the Ronald family stop your funding?” Jasper took a deep breath, trying to control his voice, but it still trembled. “I’m grateful to Mr. Ronald and to you for your help and care. But I think I should rely on myself and work my way through school now.” He stole a cautious glance at me, adding pointedly, “That way, I won’t upset Professor Kane anymore.” I lifted my head, my gaze piercing. “You want to work? With your master’s degree, you could tutor privately or teach at an agency. There are plenty of options.” “But you chose to work as a server at a restaurant we frequent. I wonder what your intentions are.” Jasper reacted as if I’d stepped on his tail, quickly defending himself. “It was just a coincidence. Gen brought me here once before, and I saw the ‘Help Wanted’ sign. I just want to earn more money…” I smiled faintly. Earn money? What part-time job pays less than waiting tables for a Crestwood University graduate student? “A student should look and act like a student. I’d prefer to see ‘clear stupidity’ in your eyes than so much obvious calculation.” He suddenly stopped moving, his voice choked. “Mr. Kane, not everyone is as articulate and bold as you are.” “I came from a small town. I’m slow-witted. I didn’t even know you couldn’t share a pair of slippers, and I’m terrified of dealing with powerful people. All I know is that all work is the same. You earn money in your glamorous lab, and I earn money serving here.” “I know you look down on me, but you can’t repeatedly humiliate me!” Julia turned her head, her gaze resting lightly on me. “Ezra, don’t push a young man when he’s already down.” Jasper stood next to Julia, his eyes red and his posture trembling. He gave me a sincere bow. “Professor Kane, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shown off the little kindness Gen gave me, and I shouldn’t have made you unhappy. I formally apologize. I’ll delete all the videos.” “And please, stop making things difficult for me!” “How have I made things difficult for you?” 5 Jasper looked mournfully at Julia, then bit his lip and spoke in a repressed, heavy tone. “The lab project you’re running… I applied for that, too… “I know you don’t like me, but I worked so, so hard. Why would you deny me that opportunity?” It suddenly dawned on me. Ah, so this little performance was all for this. A few days ago, the selected CU students started reporting to our lab. As fate would have it, three of the four students in Jasper’s dorm room were selected. When they returned to school, they couldn’t stop talking about our lab. “The most heavily funded lab in the state! Mom and Dad, I finally made you proud!” “Turns out, being a workhorse depends on where you’re working—a golden cage is better than a doghouse, and this is like a diamond mansion…” “The cafeteria food is amazing, and it’s free!” “Highlight of my resume. I hear the husband of one of our professors works there!” “Our supervisor, Professor Kane, is incredible. Young and brilliant. I love him almost as much as I love Brad Pitt!” … I had reviewed the resumes of every accepted student, but Jasper’s had never reached my desk. I immediately messaged the colleague in charge of selection, asking for Jasper’s resume. I opened it and glanced at the contents. “Before asking others why, ask yourself why not.” Julia stared at me silently, her eyes devoid of any softening. I knew she was angry. “Ezra, don’t play with someone else’s future.” I felt a prick of surprise, followed by a wave of self-mockery. I laughed at how, after all these years, I still hadn’t seen her clearly. I laughed at how, after all these years, she still hadn’t known me. Otherwise, why would she believe a stranger over me? Seeing Julia defend him, Jasper’s voice grew even more pitiful. “Professor Kane, I know I’ve made mistakes, but I’m not blaming you. Getting into that lab is just a word from you—” “Stop. I don’t have the power to control everything, and if I did, I wouldn’t waste it on you.” Julia seemed unconvinced. “I asked about the project. You’re the lead coordinator. “I know it was a joint decision, so I didn’t plan to interfere, but today, you’re being overly aggressive.” I let out a cold laugh. “I’m being aggressive? “Out of respect for you, I accepted his resume after the submission deadline. “How can a student who hasn’t even passed his English proficiency exam have the basic ability to read technical documents? “Or should I show you the resumes of the other students?” Jasper forgot to act wounded, looking anxiously at Julia, clearly terrified she would blame him. “Gen, you know I don’t get along with my roommates. They didn’t want to tell me about the opportunity. By the time I found out, it was too late…” I was beyond anger, I was amused. How could one person shift all responsibility onto others? “The project announcement was posted everywhere on your campus. If you missed it, fine. But what obligation did your roommates have to notify you personally?” “But I have a paper!” A sudden spark of defiance lit up Jasper’s eyes. “My paper is higher quality than the research of the students who have been here for two or three years!” “Ah, yes. The paper. It is quite important.” I nodded slowly. “But the first three thousand words of that paper alone required me to send you over thirty major revisions. Is that what you’re bragging about?” What a twist of fate. The thesis he was so proud of was the one I’d spent an all-nighter fixing. … Dinner was abandoned. Or rather, my dinner was abandoned. As I left, Julia ran after me and grabbed my arm. “He’s just a student, Ezra. You don’t need to humiliate him in front of all these people.” I yanked my arm away, looking at her coldly. “And you, Julia Ronald? When you publicly accused me of targeting him, did you think about how I was supposed to navigate that? “In the three years we’ve been married—no, since we met—have we ever fought over a person this insignificant?” The answer was never. Why now? “Ezra, he is my student.” And what does that have to do with me? 6 Julia didn’t come home that night. Some so-called ‘insider’ posted the video of the restaurant confrontation on Crestwood U’s campus gossip page, along with screenshots of Julia’s social media posts. [The so-called ‘Inspirational Male Student’ everyone loves is actually abusing the kindness of his supervisor’s family. He cooks, wears the husband’s slippers, uses his cologne, and clings to the supervisor. All I can say is that Professor Ronald’s husband is too good for this to work. This Jasper guy is trying to be the mistress and failing! He looks shy and sweet, but secretly, he’s garbage.] The comment section exploded, and the post went viral. Julia was virtually immune, but Jasper became the target of the entire school’s outrage. [Wait, isn’t he from my dorm building? I wondered why he was always sleeping out—guess my dorm couldn’t support His Majesty’s palace life~] [Even though all the videos were deleted, he clearly branded himself as an ‘Inspirational Blogger.’ Do those words even apply to him?] [Why not? Trying to inspire others to be a side-piece is a type of inspiration, too~.jpg] [Let’s see how the school handles this. Who wouldn’t love a young, successful Prof Ronald? Some people have no shame.] [I remember he’s not exactly young. Prof Ronald is only five or six years older.] [Disgusting. Entering someone’s home without permission and wearing the husband’s slippers. Imagine the foot fungus.] [That’s what you get from guys with no manners. The OP said he used the man’s cologne too. Just trash.] [He must have thick skin. I still draft my messages to my own supervisor in a blank document first…] [Fellow cowards, assemble here!] … I sat in my study, staring at the photo frame on Julia’s desk. It was our first photo together. It was right after our first high school midterm. We had tied for first place, and the teacher insisted on a joint photo. I remembered her muttering before the flash went off: “Finally, someone who can compete. You’ve earned the right to stand next to me.” I scoffed, looking at her. “Next time, it’ll be a solo shot for me, Your Highness. You can stand in the shade.” “Dream on, Kane.” … Just like that, we became each other’s sole measuring stick throughout high school. “Julia, what did you get for the last question?” “I’m too lazy to tell you.” “Whatever.” … “What did you translate that English word to?” “Call me ‘Big Sister’ and I’ll tell you.” “Get lost.” … “Julia, which one do you want: Harvard or Stanford?” “Which one are you going to?” “Harvard.” “Then I’ll go to Harvard, too.” After our results came out, I went to Yale and she went to MIT. We saw each other every year, fought every time, and were constant companions. Finally, as everyone predicted, we became a powerhouse couple. … My phone suddenly vibrated wildly. It was Julia. The moment I answered, her voice, completely devoid of its usual composure, came through the line. “Ezra Kane, how could you spread such malicious rumors? He is still a student! Are you trying to destroy his life? He never did any of those things!” Facing Julia’s baseless accusation again, I was unnervingly calm. But why did my chest hurt so badly? I felt like I was suffocating. “What happened?” I tried to keep my voice steady, though my hands were shaking. “Stop acting innocent! I’m starting to doubt if I chose the right person three years ago!” Smash— My hand twitched slightly, and the photo frame crashed to the floor. Shattered. Perhaps it wasn’t just the frame that was broken.

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The day I found out about my husband’s affair, my family hauled my numb body back home, all of them urging me to pretend that nothing had happened. “You’re a stay-at-home wife, what would you live on without him? You’ll forget about this soon enough.” A chill went through me, and the tears wouldn’t stop. I was a wreck. That was why, while my husband was away on a business trip, my parents had my cousin try to stand in for him. “Just try it a few times. If you get used to the proximity, you’ll accept it. Life will go on as before. Just try to be practical.” My cousin went through the motions of my husband’s routines. Their figures overlapped; everything seemed unchanged—still gentle, still attentive. But I couldn’t bear it. Every caring gesture he made brought back the image of her: them kissing on the street without a care, that same mouth having kissed me just that morning. I screamed with revulsion, shattering a vase, but the agonizing question still tore out of me: “Why did you cheat? Was I not enough? Is she really that much better than me?” I wasn’t being asked to forgive him just once. I was being asked to forgive him every single time the memory surfaced. Those images sliced me into pieces, like knives. I collapsed to the floor, helpless. Twelve years of a relationship. He was supposed to be the husband who loved me most. I’d quit my job to become a full-time wife so we could prepare for a baby. We were supposed to be having children. But he had cheated. How could I possibly pretend nothing happened? I was sobbing hysterically. When I looked up again, I pleaded with my parents. “Please, let me go. I can support myself. I promise.” … My parents exchanged a long, tense look, then sighed in defeat. “Fine, but you need to think this through. Divorce isn’t easy, and we don’t want to hurt you.” “Marriage doesn’t always need love to last.” They left, and the house fell into a terrifying silence. Before leaving, Mom told me to give both myself and him some time, to just try to make it work. Divorce, she insisted, wouldn’t be good for me. I mumbled a reply, then curled up in the corner, the cold seeping into me from all sides. I thought and thought, for hours. The sweet moments we shared flashed before my eyes like a slide show. How could a person so deeply loved change like that? How long had it been? Had they gotten a room? Gone further? What positions had they used? I even had the perverse thought: What if someone who looked exactly like him did it, that it wasn’t him? But no, we knew each other too well. That person was definitely him. A whirlwind of thoughts tormented me, driving me nearly insane. I tugged at my hair, pulling myself further into the corner. Maybe if I didn’t love him, I could pretend it hadn’t happened. But we had loved each other, deeply. I couldn’t accept his infidelity and then have to either pretend everything was fine, or have him say, I’m sorry, and me say, It’s okay, and somehow expect everything to go back to normal. Tears streamed down my face again at the thought. I didn’t sleep. I sat in that corner all night. The sound of the front door opening. Ronny Maxwell walked in. Seeing me on the floor, he rushed over, picked me up, and headed toward the bedroom. The unfamiliar scent of perfume was a loud declaration, making my nose sting with a mix of sadness and revulsion. There was a smear of uncleaned lipstick on the inside of his shirt collar. In that moment, everything was clear. The pain spread throughout my body. I had imagined so many reactions: I would lash out, I would force him to tell me why he cheated, I would make him swear on his knees never to do it again, I would drag that woman to my face, I would torment them like a lunatic, ending everything in mutual destruction… But the words caught in my throat, all of them. It seemed to make no difference. They all led to the same result. He was frantically checking to see if I was hurt or sick, when I finally spoke. “Ronny, let’s get a divorce.” Ronny’s face froze. “Wifey, what are you talking about? We’re not getting a divorce.” He quickly wiped my tears away. “Don’t say things like that. Have I been too busy lately, traveling too much, not paying enough attention to you? I’m sorry. I’m just trying to work hard now so I can spend more time with you and the kids later.” He raised my hand to his lips and kissed it, acting as if his love for me was absolute. I pulled my hand back, cold and uninterested in even speaking. I was too tired… I fell into a heavy sleep. When I woke up, Ronny had already prepared dinner. He presented a delicate necklace—a matching couple’s piece I had mentioned wanting ages ago. He happily put it around my neck, but received no joyful reaction. He looked a little deflated. “You don’t like it?” I shook my head, my voice exhausted. “I like it.” If he had given it to me last month, I would have jumped up for a huge hug and a big kiss. But now, an overwhelming fatigue consumed me. Ronny returned to the kitchen to busy himself. The doorbell rang. I opened the door. The delivery person checked the house number. “Hello, package for Mr. Maxwell. Could you sign for it?” I took it. Driven by curiosity, I opened the box. Inside was an identical necklace. Ronny came out of the kitchen and saw me staring blankly at the necklace. He nearly dropped the bowl he was holding. He quickly took the necklace from my hand. “Look at me, I’m so forgetful. I accidentally bought two of the same one. I’ll return this one tomorrow.” When he lied, he instinctively touched his ear. That habit hadn’t changed. After twelve years together, I knew all his tells. He had no idea how transparent his lies were. I didn’t expose him. It was too meaningless. After dinner, I fell back asleep, my body inexplicably drowsy. Ronny went out late that night. As if to confirm a suspicion, I called out softly. “Ronny.” He paused, came back, and kissed my forehead. “Something came up at the office. I’ve been busy lately. I’ll be back soon.” He left quickly, not giving me time to react. I stood by the window, watching him walk in the complete opposite direction of his office. A suffocating ache tightened my chest. I tried desperately to make excuses for him. No, it’s just work… Ronny came home early the next morning, and his first stop was the shower. The heavy scent of sex on his clothes was sickening, and a massive wave of nausea hit me. I ran to the bathroom and vomited until I felt empty, the bitter taste of bile filling my mouth. I broke down and cried. Ronny and that girl… they had done everything. So dirty! I curled up in the bathroom corner. Even with all that noise, Ronny didn’t notice. He finished his shower and left the house again. I felt another surge of acid bile. Following a friend’s advice, I used a pregnancy test. Staring at the two clear lines, I was completely stunned. The baby I had longed for had chosen this moment to arrive. I touched my lower abdomen, thinking for a long time. My friend urged me. “Think about it carefully. It’s hard for you to get pregnant. You drank so much herbal medicine just to conceive. Maybe you should keep the baby and ditch the father.” I was lost. I never imagined giving my child an incomplete family. But if I terminated the pregnancy, would my body ever be able to conceive again? I remained in a daze. While chopping vegetables, I accidentally sliced my finger. Blood welled up, but I kept repeating the motion, as if I felt nothing. Until Ronny came back and quickly took the knife away. He seemed to finally take a good look at me. “Seraphina, your condition has been terrible lately. Was that trip not fun?” I answered coldly. “It was pretty awful.” To cheer me up, he took me out for a special candlelight dinner. I bumped into someone around a corner. We looked up, and in that instant, I felt the blood drain from my body. Ronny’s hand, which was holding my arm, tensed slightly. The young woman spoke first, breaking the silence. “Boss, I’m so sorry. Look at me, always walking without watching where I’m going.” She introduced herself with a natural poise. “Hello, Mrs. Maxwell. I’m Ronny’s secretary. I’ve heard so much about how much of a devoted husband the boss is. See how much in love you two are.” I dug my nails into my palm to keep myself from exploding. That necklace—the one Ronny claimed he would return—was now hanging around her neck. Ronny gave a cold, distant nod, even asking the young woman to return to the office to work overtime, making it seem like they were nothing more than employer and employee. At the dinner table, Ronny ordered a feast. The waiter brought out a plate of boiled crab. Ronny even pushed the crab closer to my side of the table. “Your favorite.” He had forgotten. I was severely allergic to crab. It was something that should have never appeared in front of me. Now, however… It seemed someone else liked it, and he was remembering her preferences. Feeling sick, I got up and headed to the restroom. I considered just leaving, turning the opposite way from the main dining area, but I heard voices coming from the corner. Ronny was coldly ordering Laney Vance to leave. “I told you, don’t cause a scene in front of Seraphina. Are you looking to get fired?” But his coldness shattered the next second. The young woman stood up and kissed him. “I know, I just miss you.” Ronny’s ears turned red, his emotional defenses completely broken. He wrapped his arms around Laney and deepened the kiss. Soon, I heard muffled gasps. My heart shattered into a million pieces. I stood rooted to the spot. Ronny pulled back slightly. “I have to go back to dinner. Don’t cause trouble. I’m yours tonight.” They finally emerged from the corner and made direct eye contact with me. The panic on Ronny’s face was unmistakable. “Seraphina, it’s not what you think. Let me explain…” His face was flushed. I gave a bitter smile, and oddly, I felt a heavy weight lift from my chest. I felt a sense of release. “Ronny Maxwell, let’s get a divorce.” It was too obvious. His infidelity was everywhere. He was so careless. I couldn’t pretend nothing had happened. Ronny was about to speak again, but Laney clutched her head, looking pained. Ronny immediately rushed to her side, picking her up and hurrying away. “Seraphina, wait for me to come back and explain.” Ronny didn’t come home the next day. He didn’t even call. I booked an appointment for an abortion and contacted a law firm. He probably hadn’t even realized it. Laney Vance was already his priority. As I packed my things, I found our old wedding video and couldn’t resist watching it again. The footage was blurry, and my eyes stung with tears. He had loved me so much then. But the scene changed in my memory, and that other figure appeared again, the unspoken understanding in their intertwined gazes. My hand started shaking uncontrollably. Seven years of marriage. He had been cheating for a long time. I was only just finding out now. Why? If he was cheating and didn’t love me, why did he marry me in the first place? The past seven years of ‘love’ felt like a stinging slap across my face. I was such a fool. Just as I was lost in thought, my phone pinged with a video message. I opened it. It was a montage of Ronny taking care of Laney in the hospital: rubbing her feet, massaging her back, feeding her soup with a spoon… Everything was done with practiced ease, every action something he had once done for me. Only the recipient of the service had changed. Their familiar intimacy was indistinguishable from that of a married couple. I was surprisingly calm. Seven years. A full seven years. They had done everything. It made sense. They might even have a child together already. I composed myself, saved the evidence, and headed for the law firm. Just then, a car sped toward me, driving the wrong way. I couldn’t dodge it in time and was slammed to the ground. As I fell, the world spun. The driver sped away. My abdomen hit the pavement hard. Blood flowed profusely. Excruciating pain shot through my entire body. But all I could think about was the baby. I regretted everything. The child I had suffered so much to conceive, the one I’d taken all those years of herbal medicine for. If I lost this gift from God, would I ever be able to be a mother? I no longer loved Ronny Maxwell, but I loved this tiny life. I wanted to keep the baby. I wanted to be a single mother. I desperately reached for my phone, which had been flung away. I intended to call for an ambulance, but due to the blood loss, my hand was shaking, and I accidentally dialed Ronny’s number, which was set to speed dial. The phone rang. It connected. It sounded like a bar VIP room, the loud noise drowning out my feeble calls for help. My consciousness began to fade. Until the other side went quiet. Ronny, sounding drunk, was encouraged by everyone around him to reveal his darkest secret. “The boldest thing I’ve ever done? Because Laney was afraid I’d have a kid, I put birth control pills in my wife’s food for three years. All her attempts to conceive failed. I even hired someone to fake her medical reports. She was in the dark, thinking she had fertility issues, taking herbal medicine for three years, and she even quit her management job because of it.” Laney kissed Ronny. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, Ronny. I have great news too—I’m pregnant.” A burst of cheers erupted, everyone celebrating their sordid affair. I listened, stunned. My baby, as if sensing my despair, made its final attempt to leave my body. I was completely numb. I forgot to even ask for help. Until the call disconnected, and a passerby finally noticed my terrible condition. When I woke up again, I was in a hospital bed, my mind blank. The doctor followed protocol and tried to contact Ronny, but couldn’t reach him. He was probably drunk, passed out in Laney’s bed, ready for another post-drinking session of passion. The doctor’s face was full of regret. “We couldn’t save the baby, but thankfully, there was no damage to your uterus. Having another child later shouldn’t be a problem.” I thanked the doctor, then looked at the few-months-old fetus. Was he also completely disappointed in his father? The final tear escaped. I signed the divorce papers, copied the phone recording, and mailed them to Laney Vance’s address. Then I arranged for a real estate agent to sell our marital home. With everything taken care of, I boarded a plane, leaving the city behind forever. Ronny Maxwell woke up with Laney in his arms. They lingered together all morning. He felt a nagging uneasiness in his chest but dismissed it as the aftermath of too much drinking. Then, the delivery guy knocked on the door at the worst possible time. “Hello, Mr. Maxwell. I have a package here that needs signing.”

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The tenth time I caught her. Cordelia “Delia” Jennifer in our bed, with a new man. My reaction was less of an eruption, more of a clinical observation. I glanced at my watch, then, with a strange gentleness, offered the young man in the bed a jacket. “Isn’t your prenatal appointment scheduled for the afternoon? Why the early return?” When I didn’t answer, Delia kissed the new face next to her and subtly positioned herself between us, her body a shield. “He’s just a kid. Whatever your issue is, take it up with me.” She fully expected the hysteria. The screaming, the broken glass, the spectacle she’d grown accustomed to. But what she didn’t know was that the ten-year wager was up. I was finally free to leave her. 1. Two distinct, slightly sweaty handprints marred the pristine white of our bedside wedding photo. They were placed perfectly over Delia’s face and mine, making it chillingly easy to visualize the casual intimacy that had just taken place. I inhaled deeply, a long, steady breath, and turned to look at Delia. “We had one rule, Delia. No one in this house.” My voice was a flat monotone. “And for God’s sake, do you remember what day this is?” Delia scoffed, an indifferent smirk playing on her lips. She lit a cigarette, drew deep, and blew the acrid smoke directly into my face. “Drunk. Too many champagne bubbles to remember dates.” Her new boy, a soft-faced kid named Caspian “Cas” Miller, flinched. He fumbled with his clothes, eyes wide with panic as he looked at me. “Mr. Sinclair, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—” Seeing him struggle to zip his shirt, I stepped forward and calmly pulled the zipper up the back for him. “It’s fine. You can go.” I gave him a dismissive nod. “I know exactly who Delia is.” This was nothing new. Drunk. Moody. Bored and needing entertainment. Any excuse would do for her. And the kid? He wasn’t the first, the third, or even the eighteenth. Why bother being angry at the wallpaper? Cas scrambled out, terrified, and I called the housekeeper to sanitize the room. The mess, the scattered wrappers—it was repulsive. I pinched the bridge of my nose, pulled out a can of disinfectant spray, and covered the area. That’s when Delia wrapped her arms around my waist from behind. Her head, soft and heavy, nestled into my back. “Good husband. So domestic now, aren’t you?” She squeezed me playfully. “Afraid I wouldn’t come back, or have you finally mastered the art of being a society wife’s accessory?” She seemed satisfied with my silence, then pinched my cheek. “This is better, Wes.” She chuckled. “As long as you stay compliant, I promise no one will ever replace you.” She reached into a pile of glossy gift bags and pulled out a gold wristwatch, strapping it onto my wrist with practiced ease. “There. A reward. Now stop sulking. I know it’s our ten-year anniversary. Wipe your tears, and let’s go celebrate.” She spoke casually, unaware that in the decade we’d been married, my tears had long since dried up. I sidestepped her touch, reaching instead for the crisp document I’d prepared days ago and placed it in her hands. “Delia. We’re getting a divorce.” Her face froze for a beat, then she burst into laughter, loud and jarring. “Stop the drama, Weston. You know perfectly well we can’t get divorced.” She gripped my jaw, her eyes sharp. Her hand traveled down my chest, landing firmly over my heart. “Go get ready. You’re coming with me to the appointment. Don’t start a fight you know you can’t finish.” Years ago, my love for Delia had led me to a scorched-earth break with my family—the powerful Sinclair dynasty of the San Francisco Bay Area. My father, the Magnate, had banished me, forbidding my return home. To punish my impulsive defiance, he leveraged his deep connections to ensure a legal agreement that kept Delia and me locked together: No separation. No divorce. For better or worse, we were bound for life. Back then, Delia knelt before me, swearing she would spend that life proving my choice was worth the exile. Two years later, she cheated for the first time. She stood there, arms around her lover, looking me dead in the eye. “Yes, I’m cheating. What are you going to do about it?” she’d challenged. “Weston, you’re homeless. You’re family-less. You will be stuck with me forever!” I called home, sobbing, begging my family to let me back in. My father hung up. My mother averted her gaze. You made your bed, Wes. Now lie in it. Knowing I was legally and financially trapped, Delia grew bolder, her conquests more public and frequent. Until now, she simply brought them home. She had no idea that when I walked out that day, my father and I had an unstated agreement: A ten-year wager. It was a gamble on the longevity of my “true love.” If I won, he would bring us home and back us fully. If I lost, I was to return and accept a prearranged, politically advantageous marriage. Because of Delia. I had lost the marriage, the bet, and my decade. I had lost everything. While Delia drove, I discreetly dialed a familiar number. “Dad. I lost.” My voice cracked on the final word. “I honor the terms. I’ll be back in the Bay Area in three days for the engagement.” 2. My father, a man who never lost a bet, offered no surprise at the inevitable outcome. He simply gave a soft grunt of acknowledgment and a brief instruction. “Weston, you are my eldest son. This empire still requires its heir. The past is the past, I won’t debate it. But remember one thing.” His voice was a cold, quiet threat. “Don’t bring what shouldn’t come. Don’t leave what shouldn’t stay.” Don’t bring what shouldn’t come: Delia’s child. Don’t leave what shouldn’t stay: The business empire I had built for her. My ten years of pain were to be my final lesson. “I understand, Father.” I hung up as Delia’s impatient horn blasted from the driveway. I climbed into the passenger seat of her car, the seat I’d bought for her, the one that now smelled faintly of another man’s cologne. The drive was silent. She pretended not to notice my profound distance. I pretended not to notice the cloying scent of cheap perfume. As we arrived, Delia habitually reached for my arm to steady herself. Her sleeve pulled back, revealing a long, jagged scar running down her forearm. For a moment, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. She had taken eighteen stitches for me once, ready to give up her life just so we could be together. The woman who once loved me enough to bleed for me… how had she become this? Before I could dwell on the thought, Cas, her lover, rushed over and brazenly hooked his arm through hers. “Delia, babe, you haven’t visited me in forever.” He pouted. “What brings you here? Did your kept man throw a tantrum, or can your new guy not cut it?” It was Caspian Miller, Delia’s current favorite and her longest-running pet project. He rubbed himself against her, acting the spoiled child. Delia merely smiled, ignoring me completely. She pulled a velvet box from her purse. “Don’t be silly, Cas. I’d never forget my little pet.” She showed him the contents: a heavy, antique gold wristwatch. “I flew to the Bay Area just for you. Now, go play. I have an appointment. I’ll come find you after.” She finished by giving him a familiar, proprietary pat on his backside. My eyes landed on the familiar timepiece. I nearly laughed. A woman who clawed her way up from nothing never wasted a dollar. An authentic watch for the lover; a passable forgery for the husband. The cheap metal of the watch on my wrist suddenly felt scalding. I ripped it off and tossed it into the nearest public trash receptacle. As I turned, I heard a group of people nearby, gossiping about us. One tried to move closer, but his friend pulled him back. “Are you crazy? You don’t see the guy next to her?” “That’s… the Magnate’s eldest son.” The Magnate’s eldest son. It had been a long time since I’d heard that title. Cas overheard it too and scoffed. He looked me up and down, pure contempt in his eyes. “’Magnate’s son’? Please. He’s just a useless leach who got kicked out of his rich daddy’s house and sponges off Delia. A lazy gigolo. I hate parasites.” Parasite. What did that make Delia, who built her business on my money and connections? What did that make Cas, who was supported entirely by her? When did these two connect, anyway? Was it during my first car crash? Was it when I drank myself into the ER to close a deal for Delia? Or was it the time I took a bullet for her, ending up in a coma while she was being hunted by rivals? It was so long ago, the memory was a blur. I just remembered that while I was recovering, pale and alone in the hospital bed, Delia started sleeping with the little nurse. While I was struggling to heal, Cas was crawling all over my wife. Years later, Cas was still this brazen. Clearly, Delia had spoiled him rotten. But soon, they would be free to be openly together. My task now was simpler: address the inconvenience in her womb. 3. I ignored the two of them and walked straight into the clinic. Dr. Lee already knew Delia was pregnant. Before he could offer congratulations, I slid the medical reports across his desk. “I need you to terminate the pregnancy.” Dr. Lee stiffened, then reviewed the file with a grim expression. “Mr. Sinclair, are you certain? The baby appears perfectly healthy. You and your wife have been trying for years…” Delia’s first miscarriage was at twenty, early in our time in Dallas. We were poor, living in a cheap, rundown apartment. She complained I couldn’t give her the life she wanted, terminated the pregnancy, and threatened to leave me. I worked myself to exhaustion to build a life for her. When our business finally gained traction, Delia crossed a local crime boss and was kidnapped. To save her, I liquidated everything and got myself hospitalized in the process. I was young, I could have recovered, but I couldn’t bear to see Delia suffer. I pushed my body past its limits just so she could live the good life. The moment I finally paused, Delia started cheating. I spent years chasing lovers and cleaning up her messes. In the process, I ignored my own health, which led to our current inability to conceive naturally. Initially, Delia would kneel at my bedside, saying, “Wes, I see everything you’ve done. I’ll take on the burden and make up for your sacrifice.” But soon after she took over the business, she’d look at me while holding another man. “Wes, I know what you did, but that’s in the past. I promised you I wouldn’t let anyone replace you, and I’ll leave all our wealth to our child. But you need to be a good boy and stop questioning my choices.” Now, I looked out the window at the two of them embracing below. I shook my head, a bitter smile touching my lips. “Prescribe a gentle course of medication. I’m returning to the Bay Area soon, and a child would be inconvenient.” I added, my voice hardening, “Besides, given Delia’s smoking, drinking, and reckless lifestyle, there is no guarantee that a child born into this chaos will be healthy.” My father’s fortune was built on my mother’s family money. Once established, he acquired a rotation of mistresses and a brood of illegitimate children. That history made me crave a pure, honest relationship. But the first time she cheated, Delia showed no remorse. She was indignant. “Weston, what the hell is wrong with you?” she’d yelled. “Your father has dozens of mistresses. Why are you acting like a psycho when I step out once or twice? Think about what your mother did! You grew up in that world—why haven’t you learned how to be a proper rich man’s husband yet?” She used my deepest, most private wound—my childhood trauma—as a weapon against me. In that moment, I knew our love was dead. But because of the ten-year agreement, I couldn’t leave. I was forced to watch her violate my dignity and trample my devotion. The marriage I fought to secure became my prison. The love I desperately protected became her tool for abuse. I had tasted enough of the family and relationship poison. I would not allow an innocent child to repeat the cycle. I would end this irreversible marriage myself. I took the prescription, called Delia, and waited for her to pick up. Though we couldn’t part as friends, I could at least attempt a final show of decency. The phone connected. I heard the muffled sounds of Delia and Cas, mid-embrace, already engaged in suggestive banter. A sudden, sharp pain struck my heart. I looked up at the sprawling Dallas cityscape, slowly being swallowed by the night. I wondered, for a final time, how Delia and I had ended up here. Was it Cas? Or was it… that one incident? 4. It didn’t matter. No reason, no excuse, could negate the concrete reality of the betrayal and the hurt. I flagged a taxi, intending to go home and finish packing. While I waited, I spotted Delia and Cas across the intersection. They were walking hand-in-hand, two figures strolling the busy streets like a couple hopelessly in love. Cas gently caressed Delia’s abdomen, his face alight with affection. “Babe, we’re going to be parents soon. When are you finally going to divorce that old man?” he murmured. “I don’t want my son calling anyone else Dad!” Delia leaned into his shoulder and kissed his cheek. “Not yet. Weston still controls some core information about the company. Once I have everything completely secured, then we’ll file the papers.” She then spoke at length about their future: their plans, their life together, how hard she would work to protect this child and give Cas the best life possible. The words, mixed with the cold December air, felt like a thousand tiny cuts. Finally, Delia reached up, unclasped the custom-engraved St. Christopher medal—the very one I had begged and knelt in the snow to acquire, swearing it was a talisman for our future and a symbol of my unending commitment—and fastened it around Cas’s neck. “I’ve named our child Pax,” she said softly. “Peace and prosperity. A beautiful, whole family.” Pax… The child wasn’t mine. The last flicker of love was a lie. I had felt such guilt over her words years ago, losing sleep for days. To prove my love, I had literally humbled myself, walking miles in a blizzard for that piece of jewelry, vowing to make a success of myself. That unborn child was supposed to be the proof of our love. Now, she was giving that medal, my sacrifice, to a pet, a gigolo, transferring the debt she owed me and our first child to him and his child. I took a deep breath, trying to summon indifference. But Cas spotted me. He smirked. “Delia, your sugar-husband is checking up on you again. Look, pal, why are you still trying to be relevant?” He fiddled with the custom locket around his neck, his eyes full of sneering superiority. “If you can’t satisfy your woman, don’t blame other men for stepping up. Instead of standing there looking miserable, go home and figure out what you’ll do when she finally kicks your worthless butt to the curb!” He was trying to provoke a scene, hoping I’d explode and give Delia another excuse. But I was past caring. By sunrise, I would be gone. Back to the Bay Area. And someone else would be taking care of the inconvenience in her womb. I looked at Delia one last time, devoid of any feeling. “You’ll regret it, Delia.” I told her. “Because you forgot who gave you the keys to the kingdom.” Delia started to speak, but Cas cut her off. She looked from him to me, hesitant, before finally turning back. She left me with a half-hearted, “Wait for me. I’ll explain tomorrow.” There would be no tomorrow. The moon cast a cold, silver light. I dragged my exhausted body toward the port. In the final hours before dawn, I paid the housekeeper and instructed her to dispose of all my and Delia’s shared belongings. Then, I simply waited. As the sun began to rise, a sleek private jet descended and stopped directly in front of me. “Young Master. I’m here to take you home.” The plane climbed above the city, condensing a decade of struggle and memory into a single, distant aerial view. From this moment on, Delia and I were separated by an ocean. Never to meet again. … Delia was violently awakened, dragged from the bed in a flash of black suits and efficiency. A cup of foul-tasting liquid was forced down her throat. The child she had anticipated so eagerly soon became nothing more than a painful memory. Furious and terrified, she glared at the dark-suited men who had invaded her hotel room. Before she could demand an answer, a newspaper was thrown at her. The headline screamed: THE MAGNATE’S ELDEST SON WEDS SHIPPING HEIRESS IN SAN FRANCISCO. MAJOR BAY AREA INVESTORS PULL FUNDS; JENNIFER GROUP FACES CATASTROPHIC LIQUIDITY CRISIS.

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The year I asked for a divorce, Caleb Thorne had only one request: give the Thorne family a child. After five years of struggling, I finally got pregnant. But instead of joy, he pinned me against the wall like a madman, eyes red, demanding to know whose bastard it was. I stared at the vasectomy report he threw in my face, eyes stinging, voice gone. No wonder it took so long to conceive. It turns out he had cut off my path from the very beginning. For a moment, I just wanted to laugh. Laugh until I cried. “Yes, I cheated.” “I admitted it. Will you let me go now? Caleb.” 1 Midnight. The man I hadn’t seen for two months pushed open the bedroom door, carrying the biting cold of the snowstorm outside. I had just turned a page of my parenting book. Suddenly, a shadow fell over me. His icy hand grabbed my wrist, dragging me all the way to the bathroom and pinning me against the cold tiles. “Explain.” The damp, freezing tiles made my back shiver. I tried to get up, but he pinned my wrists back down. “Explain what?” I stared straight back at him. His dark pupils were full of mockery, his gaze dropping to my still-flat belly. “What do you think?” “While your husband is overseas, you couldn’t wait to carry some wild man’s seed just to complete your task?” The bathroom light was dim. In five years of a cold, distant marriage, this was the first time we faced each other with such hostility. —Because of the unformed child in my belly. I looked at the unmelted snow on his shoulder, my eyes suddenly reddening, a mocking smile on my lips. I thought he rushed back overnight from New York, thousands of miles away, braving a blizzard. Because he was moved by the new life inside me. I even despicably hoped. That the birth of this little life could ease our stalemate. Unfortunately, I guessed wrong. He imprisoned me here, staring at me with bloodshot eyes, to condemn me. For a moment, I found it ridiculous: “You think I cheated?” “What else?” He sneered, his tone even colder. “Five years of marriage and nothing. I leave, and you’re pregnant?” “Pearl, sometimes I really admire you. To be able to diligently act out the role of a woman desperate for a child for five years.” “Were you running to the hospital every day really to prepare your body? Or was it to lay the groundwork for this moment, making this pregnancy seem logical?” Every word dripped with malicious speculation. I listened to him in a daze. After a long while, I clenched my white knuckles and suddenly laughed: “Is that what you’ve always thought of me?” “The baby is eight weeks old. Before you left, we did it once. If it’s not yours, whose is it?” “When the baby is big enough, we can do an amniocentesis DNA test. Why label me a cheater now?” Seeing me defend myself, he laughed aloud, his thumb grinding maliciously on my belly: “My child?” “Then please explain, given that I had a vasectomy five years ago, how exactly did you get pregnant with this child!” Smack! A dazzling white vasectomy report was slammed next to my face. My eyes turned red, completely stunned. 2 Ten years ago, the Thorne family went bankrupt. To break up with him, I aborted our child. Later, he rose again, went to great lengths to marry me, saying I owed him a child. Five years into the marriage, to conceive as soon as possible, I visited every hospital. I, who couldn’t even drink coffee, drank bowl after bowl of nauseating traditional medicine without blinking. I was afraid of pain, yet I let the needles prick my lower abdomen until it was bruised all over. The pain turned into a morbid desire. That was my hope to cut off the past. Once I have a child, I can leave here without burden. Just as he said. We would owe each other nothing. His company was always busy. I had to calculate my ovulation period while avoiding conflicts with his schedule. The man now was nothing like the boy who craved physical touch back then. He was cold and abstinent, no longer keen on intimacy. And I always worked double hard to arouse his interest. Stockings, uniforms, bunny tails… But his reaction was always cold. And that scrutinizing look. It made me feel ashamed from body to soul. Years of effort yielded no results. Of course, I suspected it was Caleb’s problem. That was the third year of marriage. I tentatively asked his assistant and checked all his past medical reports. The next day at the dinner table. He threw two latest reports at me. With many detailed items attached. His was perfect without any abnormality. Mine clearly stated. [Uterine lining is thin, difficult for fertilized egg to implant.] What did he say then? Oh, he looked at me coldly, like looking at a clumsy clown: “Pearl, don’t you know best where the problem lies?” Someone who once hid from everyone to undergo such a painful D&C surgery in a private clinic. How could I have the right to blame him now? I still remember my face turning white with embarrassment. But now. He tells me he had a vasectomy long ago. Then what do the ridicule and torture I suffered in these five years trying to conceive count for? 3 My hands were trembling, shaking so much that tears blurred the words in front of me, fingertips white from gripping. I threw the report in his face, asking with a trembling voice: “Caleb Thorne, is it fun to play me?” If silence and tears cannot earn respect. At least anger can. Temporarily. “Watching me drink medicine and take injections, seeking doctors everywhere, being tortured like a madwoman, are you happy?!” “I told you long ago the Thorne family doesn’t lack a child, YOU wanted to conceive!” He interrupted sternly. “But you promised!” My tears fell uncontrollably, choking so much I couldn’t speak a complete sentence, “You promised, as long as I give you a child, we’re even…” He looked at my tears, silent for a long time. I don’t know how long passed before the man in front of me finally calmed down. Before my “betrayal,” he was the one who set up this scam. He pulled the corner of his mouth with difficulty. “Yes, I did say I would let you go, before you explain clearly.” “After all, I’m not interested in wasting my life on a shameless woman.” Explain? What does he want me to explain? Why did I disappear for four hours at that banquet? Why lie to him with the excuse of my period? And why did the playboy second son of the Jiang family, whom I dated after our breakup, also happen to leave early? 4 Cold wind mixed with snowflakes hit the glass window. The rustling sound was particularly clear in the quiet night. I said: “Nothing happened between him and me.” This was the answer I gave Caleb after thinking for two hours. As soon as this pale defense came out, a substantial piece of evidence was thrown in front of me. —A surveillance video of me stumbling out of a hotel room in the middle of the night. “Now, what else do you have to say?” After a long while, I pinched my white fingertips, my tone calm and numb: “Yes, he sought me out, wanted me to ask you to help his family. I refused.” “And then?” “He pestered me for a few hours, suddenly asked if I really wanted a child, said he could help me.” “Then what did you do?” The mockery in his eyes grew. “I escaped.” I looked up, meeting his scrutinizing gaze. His gaze was sharp as a knife, determined to find any trace of lying on my face. But the mist covered my almond eyes. Except for the redness around the eyes, he could see nothing else. Just like he couldn’t distinguish if my words were sincere back then. I touched my lower abdomen, speaking hoarsely: “Your vasectomy is your business, but I haven’t been with other men. This can only be your child. If you are willing to believe, I can keep it.” “No need.” He didn’t hesitate for a second. “Pearl, the one aborted ten years ago deserved to be called my child.” “But this one now, will never be acknowledged by the Thorne family.” The dusty past was suddenly brought up. He saw the blood drain from my face as he wished, his eyes full of undisguised pleasure: “I’ve already scheduled an abortion for you, tomorrow.” “Some chances only come once in a lifetime. Don’t you think? Pearl.” The heating in the room was strong. But I still felt a bone-chilling cold spreading from my chest to my limbs. It turns out he scheduled the abortion on the plane back. The interrogation was just to confirm his guess. Like a cat playing with a mouse. He just wanted to see me panicked and speechless to vent the hatred in his heart. Not really caring about the truth. After a long while, I released my hand from my abdomen weakly and suddenly laughed: “Yes.” Some chances only come once in a lifetime. So the second chance God gave us. I don’t want it anymore.

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