Category: English

My wife came home from her business trip and found me in a compromising position with the nanny on our living room couch. She exploded. She called her family. They dragged me outside, tying me to a tree in our courtyard for a public shaming. “Leo Thompson, why?” Chloe wailed in front of everyone. “Was I not enough for you?” Her intern, Alex, hit me with a branch. Called me scum. I tasted blood and tears. I looked straight at Chloe. “Does this scene look familiar, Chloe? It’s just like the day Lily died.” Chloe froze. “You… you remembered?” “Leo Thompson!” Chloe’s voice was a raw, furious roar, her eyes blazing. “Our daughter has been gone for a month. One month! And you’re already screwing the nanny in our home? Do you have no shame?” Chloe’s eyes were blazing red, her voice a furious roar. I calmly lit a cigarette. “Feel free to cheat too. I wouldn’t mind.” “Stop acting so innocent. You’re never home. You’re probably already screwing someone else.” The nanny, Maya, pulled on her black stockings with a smirk, twisting the knife. I chuckled. Chloe completely lost it. She lunged at Maya, hand flying toward her face for a slap. But I caught her wrist in a tight grip. And I let Maya walk away. “Leo! You’re actually protecting some outsider? You scumbag! You bastard!” Chloe’s eyes were wide with shock. She started wildly punching my chest. “Stop being crazy!” I impatiently shoved her away. Just then, Alex, Chloe’s intern, arrived with her family. They saw Chloe collapsed on the floor, and everyone erupted. Alex charged at me, grabbing my collar. “Leo Thompson!” he snarled. “Not only are you cheating, you hit your wife? Are you even a man?” “Do you have any respect for Lily’s memory?” His spit sprayed across my face. “You don’t get to talk about my daughter!” I snapped. My fist connected with his jaw, sending him stumbling back. Chloe panicked. “Have you gone rabid? Why did you hit Alex?” Her family saw I wouldn’t back down. Rage burned in their eyes. “My daughter gave you everything! he didn’t care that you came from nothing, with no car and no house, and she still married you.” “How could you betray her?” “We shouldn’t have been soft-hearted! Even if you’d knelt in the rain until you died, we shouldn’t have allowed this marriage!” “Today, I’m going to let everyone see your true colors! And I’ll make sure you can never work in the medical field again!” All her relatives swarmed me. I was overwhelmed. They dragged me, helpless, to the center of the complex and tied me to a tree. They ripped my clothes off, leaving me in nothing but my boxers. “Everyone, come look! Look at this cheating, wife-beating bastard!” “Someone tell me,” a relative wailed, “why is my niece so pathetic? She gave her all to her family, and her husband runs off with the nanny!” “This animal was fooling around with the nanny right in front of his own daughter’s memorial photo! It’s an outrage!” Chloe’s family cried and screamed, drawing the entire neighborhood to crowd around. When people heard what happened, they stared at me with pure fury, cursing me as subhuman, saying I deserved to die. “You were hospitalized after your accident, and Chloe cared for you day and night! After just a few days, this is how you repay her? Where is your conscience?” “You pathetic, weak pig! I’ll kill you!” Chloe’s parents slapped me wildly. Encouraged by this, some in the crowd spat on me. Others grabbed dirt and rocks and started throwing them.

I was utterly humiliated. Chloe’s eyes were hazy with tears as she questioned me. “Leo Thompson, tell me! Why did you cheat?” I let out a bitter, self-mocking laugh. “You know why.” “Was I not enough for you? But that closet full of lingerie, I bought all of it for you! What more do you want?” Chloe cried even harder, almost screaming in despair. That was all the provocation the crowd needed. Their fury ignited. “Chloe, this bastard is hopeless. Today, I’ll make sure you get your revenge.” Alex first wiped away Chloe’s tears, then picked up a branch from the ground and savagely lashed me. “You rotten scumbag!” Again and again he struck, until my body was a mess of bloody welts. And the crowd cheered. “Hit him harder!” Chloe’s family yelled. “Don’t let him off easy!” Only Chloe stopped Alex. “Leo, we’ve been together for ten years, it wasn’t easy.” “If you admit your mistake and promise in front of everyone that you’ll change, I’ll give you one last chance.” The crowd praised her for her kindness, lamenting that such a wonderful woman was wasted on a man like me. “Admit my mistake?” I ground my teeth until I thought they would crack. “Chloe, doesn’t this scene look just like the day our daughter, Lily, died?” Chloe’s pupils immediately constricted. “You… you remembered everything?” “It was over a hundred degrees,” I pressed on, seeing her freeze. “Lily was surrounded, being screamed at by a crowd.” “Your favored and beloved intern, Alex, didn’t help. He locked her in a dog cage to ‘teach her a lesson’.” “Do you have any idea how desperately she cried?” Chloe’s fists clenched tightly, and she murmured, “Alex didn’t mean to.” Hearing her words, a few blood-tinged tears slid from my eyes. “Chloe! Lily was your own daughter! How could you be so heartless?” “That day, Lily couldn’t even get a sip of water. The sun peeled her skin, and her lips cracked and bled.” “When you saw her dead, didn’t your heart ache?” My accusations rang out. Chloe trembled all over, and Alex beside her looked nervous. The residents of the complex all stared at them, their gazes becoming strange. “Her own daughter was killed by her intern, and the mother still keeps him around? Is she sick?” “They probably have something going on.” “No wonder the husband cheated for revenge, his heart must have turned to ice.” Besides that. Mrs. Thompson also glared at Chloe, demanding, “Didn’t you say Lily’s death was an accident?” “Alex, what exactly happened?” Mr. Thompson glowered at Alex, waiting for an explanation. “It’s all my fault…” Alex slapped himself, feigning remorse and sobbing, “That day, I took Lily out to play. I just went to buy water for a second, and when I turned around, Lily was gone.” “Later I found out she ran into a bakery to steal bread, was caught by the store owner, thrown into a cage, and put on the roof as punishment.” “During that time, Chloe was busy with surgery. I sent messages and called Leo, but no one answered.” “I’m sorry, I didn’t watch Lily properly, I deserve to die!” After saying that, he wildly slapped himself again. “Okay, stop hitting yourself.” Chloe was heartbroken and quickly stepped forward to stop him. “I didn’t get any calls or messages from you that day, you killed my daughter…” Before I could finish. Chloe turned and slapped me, raging, “How many times have I told you? It has nothing to do with Alex! It was the bakery owner who committed the evil act, and he’s currently wanted by the police.”

“Besides, if you hadn’t abused Lily, not given her food, would she have stolen bread?” I suddenly froze. “As a mother, don’t you know your own daughter? Would she really steal like that?” “Don’t you know how much Lily adored me?” Chloe was always busy with work, performing multiple surgeries every day, so I decisively quit my job at the hospital to care for Lily. If Lily wasn’t eating enough or dressed warmly, she would have been malnourished long ago. Moreover, Lily was a sweet and well-behaved child, she would rather starve than steal bread! Chloe remained silent. Alex, however, indignantly said, “Leo Thompson, stop making excuses!” “I investigated at the daycare. The teacher said Lily fainted a few times, but always recovered after eating something or having a drink.” “I have surveillance footage as proof!” With that, he pulled out his phone and played a video. The teacher was playing games with the children. Lily suddenly fainted. “I have dozens of videos like this! Leo Thompson, what more do you have to say?” Alex said coldly. “You bastard, you actually didn’t give Lily food? What kind of father are you?” “My poor granddaughter must have been starving to steal bread. It’s all your fault, you irresponsible father.” Mr. and Mrs. Thompson cried out, rushing forward to hit and curse me. The other relatives followed suit. The surrounding residents cheered again, wishing they could all rush up and strangle me on the spot. Chloe looked at me, saying disappointedly, “Alex kept this quiet out of respect for me.” “But what about you? You repay kindness with cruelty, actually slandering Alex!” “Killing Lily wasn’t enough, you want to kill Alex too? When did you become so malicious?” Hearing her righteous accusation. I smiled bitterly, tears in my eyes. “Chloe, some things aren’t facts just because you see them with your own eyes.” “What if I told you Lily had low blood sugar? Would you believe me?” Chloe momentarily froze. Alex sneered, “Leo Thompson, are you trying to use this to say you didn’t cheat? That what Chloe saw was all fake?” “Exploiting your deceased daughter, you’re truly disgusting!” At his words, Chloe raged, “Leo Thompson, I’m not just Lily’s mother, I’m also a doctor!” “Do you think I wouldn’t know if she had low blood sugar?” “Don’t try to twist the facts to justify your cheating!” Mr. and Mrs. Thompson and the others cursed me as an animal. In the endless barrage of insults, I stared intently at Chloe and shouted, “I never cheated! You and Alex framed me!” “Bullshit!” Alex immediately retorted, “You were caught red-handed and you’re still denying it! You have no shame!” “Still spouting nonsense, I’ll smash your mouth!” Mr. Thompson pulled off his shoe and viciously threw it at my mouth. My mouth bled profusely. Yet my attitude remained unchanged. I said coldly, “I can prove my innocence in a moment, but some people won’t be so lucky.” I stared fiercely at Alex and Chloe, my eyes filled with hatred. “Enough!” “Do you really think people will believe you with empty words? Are you treating us like I was born yesterday?” Chloe put a hand on her hip, indignant. “I’m telling you now!” “The moment you admit your mistake today, is the moment we let you go. Otherwise, you’ll stay here under the blazing sun!” I didn’t utter a word. The surrounding residents all said I was stubborn to the core, utterly despicable. I was still under the scorching sun, like a skewer roasting, burning from the inside out.

Sweat soaked my clothes. But evaporated just as quickly. Dehydration left my mouth parched, my lips cracked, and my head spinning. I thought of my daughter. She was in this very weather, alone on that rooftop, calling out to no one, crying for help that never came. Her tiny life, slowly slipping away, eventually dying of dehydration. She must have been so desperate, so in pain. She surely wished her mommy and daddy would suddenly appear like superheroes, handing her a bottle of water and a popsicle. “I bought watermelon and popsicles, and various cold drinks, everyone can have them for free!” Alex’s shout broke my thoughts. He had someone bring a cart of watermelons and three portable ice chests, offering relief to everyone around. “Alex, you’re so thoughtful.” Chloe took the cold drink Alex offered, a happy smile playing on her lips. “It’s nothing, just what I should do.” Alex smiled, then distributed cold drinks and popsicles to Chloe’s family. “This young man is so capable.” “He’s eighteen times better than some scumbag!” Mr. and Mrs. Thompson praised him profusely. The surrounding residents also gave thumbs up. Only I felt sick to my stomach. Alex took a popsicle, walked up to me, and sneered in a low voice, “Hot and thirsty, aren’t you?” “Just call me ‘Dad,’ and I’ll give you some. Otherwise, you’ll just end up like your daughter, baked to a crisp.” “I even recorded how pathetic she looked back then. I rewatch it every night…” My eyes were bloodshot. I spat a bloody phlegm at Alex, cursing, “You monster!” Chloe rushed over, glanced at the bloody phlegm on Alex’s face, and immediately lashed out at me. “Leo Thompson!” “Alex was kindly offering you a popsicle, and you repay his kindness with cruelty, you ungrateful jerk!” “I must have been blind to ever fall for someone like you!” Still not satisfied, she raised her hand to slap me. “Keep your filthy hands to yourself!” Just then, a playful female voice cut through the air. Everyone looked over. It was Maya, the nanny, who had returned, followed by a team of police officers. They immediately untied me. Chloe was furious, glaring at Maya. “You homewrecker, you actually dared to come back!” “I’ve seen shameless people, but never someone this shameless. Being a homewrecker and then having the nerve to call the police!” Alex also cursed her with disgust. Mr. and Mrs. Thompson’s fists clenched, grinding audibly, as if they wanted to tear Maya apart. “Anyone can talk big.” “What evidence do you have to call me a homewrecker?” Maya asked. “I… I saw it with my own eyes!” Chloe gritted her teeth. “So, you have no evidence, huh?” Maya’s lips curved into a smile. She turned to the police officers and said, “Chloe Thompson and Alex slandered me as a homewrecker and deliberately assaulted Leo Thompson.” “Please arrest them!” At her words, I, who had played along, also smiled. The show was just beginning! Alex immediately panicked. “You homewrecker, you’re actually playing the victim! You’re utterly despicable!” “Can’t afford to live anymore? A homewrecker being so arrogant!” Chloe frowned, looking at me. “Leo Thompson, if you’re still a man, admit it!” I took a sip of the cold drink Maya handed me. “I’m innocent, why should I admit to anything?” “If you think I cheated, then show me the evidence.” Hearing me, Chloe threw the popsicle in her hand, indignantly saying, “I saw you two intimately close on the sofa with my own eyes!”

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Three years after my death, I suddenly ‘woke up.’ No flesh, no memory, just a wisp of a soul. I was trapped, tethered to Jason’s side, forced to watch him and his wife in their blissful ignorance. Then, one day, his wife was cleaning out the attic and stumbled upon a photograph of me. “Who’s this?” she asked offhandedly, a casual chuckle on her lips. Jason’s voice was flat as he tossed the photo into the trash. “Just a dead person. Elara, I think? I can barely remember her name anymore.” Elara. So that was my name. A forgotten ex-wife. But that very night, I saw Jason secretly drugging his wife. Through the reflection in the glass, his eyes met mine. “Elara,” he whispered. “See? I’m avenging you.” For a moment, I almost believed Jason could actually see me. My soul quivered, the words right there. But Jason simply held the milk, turned, and walked away. Such a shame. He still couldn’t see me. Seraphina, suspecting nothing, drank the milk and fell into a deep sleep. The moment she did, Jason rushed to the trash and carefully retrieved my photo, clutching it to his chest. “I’m sorry, Elara. I’m so sorry.” “I made you dirty, did it hurt when you fell? It’s all my fault.” Jason’s voice was low and hoarse, filled with guilt. He repeatedly wiped the glass frame with the cuff of his expensive suit, then suddenly let out a cold laugh. He pressed his warm lips to the glass, gently coaxing. “Just a little longer. Soon, five days at most.” “I’ll make Seraphina lose everything. Her wealth, her reputation, everything she stole from you. Then I’ll send her down to apologize.” “And then, Elara, we… we can be together again.” Jason picked up his phone and dialed a number. His voice instantly turned cold. “You can proceed. Make sure it’s clean.” After that, Jason held my photo, practically frozen in his study. Sometimes he would weep uncontrollably, large tears splashing against the glass. Other times, a gentle, yet chilling, smile would twist his lips. And then, he’d press his forehead to the frame, letting out strangled, guttural sobs. For three whole hours, Jason acted like a madman, crying and laughing. He was more terrifying than I, a mere ghost. A belated realization dawned on me. This man, Jason, he seemed to… truly love me. Until his phone screen lit up again, a distinctive vibration breaking the silence of the study. Jason snatched up his phone. The message was concise. “Mr. Jason, it’s done. Mr. Thorne fell to his death after drinking too much.” He didn’t reply, simply putting my photo frame away carefully. He rose and walked towards the master bedroom, pushing the door open forcefully. Seraphina on the bed seemed disturbed by the rough sound, stirring uneasily. But the sleeping pills worked their magic, and she didn’t wake. Jason walked to the bedside, gazing at her for a few seconds. His eyes were as cold as if he were looking at an inanimate object. Suddenly, Jason did something utterly insane. He lunged out, not to wake Seraphina, but to grab her hair viciously and smash her forehead hard against the solid wooden headboard! A dull, sickening thud echoed in the room. Seraphina jolted awake from the extreme pain and terror, letting out a piercing scream. The moment her eyes flew open, I watched the coldness vanish from Jason’s face, replaced by feigned concern. He pulled her into his arms, his voice soft. “Seraphina, what’s wrong?” “How did you manage to hit your head just sleeping? Was it a nightmare?” “Shhh, it’s alright now. I’m here.” Before she could even begin to collect herself, her phone on the nightstand erupted with a shrill ring. “Hello?” The next second, Seraphina’s pupils constricted, her face turning ashen. “No! Dad! That’s impossible!” She desperately grabbed Jason’s arm, sobbing incoherently. “Jason! My dad… my dad had an accident. They said he fell from a building, and he’s gone.” “What do I do, Jason! What am I going to do!” Jason reacted quickly. He immediately pulled Seraphina tightly into his embrace, his voice carrying just the right amount of shock and grief. “What! How could this happen?” “It’s okay, I’m here for everything. If the sky falls, I’ll hold it up for you. Calm down, tell me slowly.” Seraphina clung to Jason even more. Her face buried in his chest, she wept, murmuring words. But where Seraphina couldn’t see, I clearly saw Jason’s expression. There was no grief on his face; instead, he smirked at me with a twisted, eerie smile. Yet, the words he spoke were so gentle and reassuring. “Seraphina, your family’s problems are my problems!” “I’ll handle everything!”

“Jason, thank god you’re here.” Mrs. Thorne wiped her tears, clutching his hand. “With her father gone… who knows what those vultures outside might do to our family without you here.” Jason’s face was a mask of sorrowful resolve. He squeezed her hand in return. “As long as I’m here, no one will ever dare touch the Thorne family.” Then, he drew a sealed envelope from his pocket. The words “To My Dearest Wife” were written on the front. “I… came across this in Mr. Thorne’s study,” he said, his voice gentle as he handed it to her. “It must be for you.” He paused and handed it to Mrs. Thorne. “Perhaps you should read it when you feel a little stronger?” With that, Jason left. Mrs. Thorne’s trembling hands tore open the envelope. That letter was a fake. I had watched Jason forge it. He seemed to have practiced Mr. Thorne’s handwriting for a long time, his fingertips calloused. As he wrote each word, a pang of sorrow and melancholy welled up in me. I vaguely sensed that the Jason I remembered shouldn’t be like this. He should have been the bright, flamboyant young man, pure as a fresh breeze and clear moonlight. Not this… this twisted, dark, ruthless man, almost a demon driven to madness, all for me – someone who didn’t remember him at all, someone who had been dead for three years. Jason, you should have lived your life well. When Mrs. Thorne returned after reading the letter, her expression was already dazed. Jason feigned tenderness, stepping forward to support her, and whispered words that pierced her heart. “Mrs. Thorne, what Mr. Thorne said in the letter is true, isn’t it?” “It was you, thinking you were so clever, working with Seraphina to murder Elara. It was you who raised Seraphina to be just like you, a useless person who only knows how to kill to solve problems. The Thorne family has been caught red-handed; there’s no way to recover. “The Thorne family was destroyed by your hands. He’ll never forgive you, even in death.” Mrs. Thorne’s body began to tremble violently, her gaze fixed on her husband’s portrait. “I didn’t! I never mean to kill Elara.” She mumbled. “She was just an orphan. Who cared if she died? It’s been three years. No one will-” “Won’t they?” Jason cut her off, his voice dropping to a venomous hiss. “After Elara fell to her death three years ago,your people chopped her body into twenty-eight pieces. Each piece cemented into the building.” He continued, the words cold and precise. “I hear they’ve started renovations on it recently. They might have already dug her up.” “If someone discovers it, the Thorne family will be completely finished. Tell me, will you also be chopped into twenty-” Jason didn’t finish his sentence. Mrs. Thorne suddenly let out a shrill, ear-splitting shriek, pushing Jason away violently. She had completely lost her mind. She lunged towards Mr. Thorne’s altar, screaming, laughing, falling into complete delirium, repeatedly yelling. “I didn’t mean it! Old Thorne, I did it all for Seraphina.” “That slut was hogging Jason, so I killed her. Only then could my daughter take her place! I wanted to throw her down! To chop her up!” Mrs. Thorne then grabbed Seraphina’s hand, trembling and pleading through tears. “Don’t come for me, I already cemented you in the concrete.” “Elara, you’re dead. Why don’t you reincarnate? Why are you tormenting me! Don’t extort the Thornes anymore, we’re out of money!” Seraphina had been lost in grief over her father’s death, but hearing her mother’s words, she was utterly terrified. She grabbed her mother, blurting out. “Mom! What are you talking about? Are you crazy?”

But it was too late. The altar, which had been deathly silent, erupted into a greater uproar. Everyone’s eyes darted frantically between the delirious Mrs. Thorne and the ashen-faced Seraphina. Some people even started recording videos. Just then, Jason steadied the swaying Seraphina. His voice was grave and urgent. “Seraphina, listen. Your mother is having a mental breakdown right now; she’s speaking nonsense.” “So many people have heard it, and some are secretly recording. If someone makes trouble and calls the police, they’ll definitely investigate. Then not only will your mother be finished, but you’ll also be questioned repeatedly. The Thorne family will be completely ruined!” Seraphina was stunned by Jason’s words, clutching his clothes, trembling. “Then… then what do I do? Jason, I’m so scared.” A cold glint flickered in Jason’s eyes, but his tone grew even calmer. “There’s only one way. forcefully send your mother to a mental hospital.” “You must maintain a consistent story externally, saying that your mother suffered too great a blow from your father’s sudden death. That she’s experiencing severe schizophrenia and delusions. This is the only way to protect her, and to protect you. Understand?” A dazed Seraphina had long lost her judgment, relying completely on Jason. Tears streaming, she nodded frantically. “Okay!” Under Jason’s ‘guidance,’ Seraphina shakily signed the admission papers. Several burly ‘staff members’ in uniform stepped forward, unceremoniously grabbing the still delirious, screaming, and struggling Mrs. Thorne, one on each side. “Let me go!” “Seraphina, I’m not sick! I’m your mother! Say something, they’re trying to hurt me!” “I don’t want to go! Seraphina, don’t let them take me!” Mrs. Thorne shrieked as she was forcibly dragged from the altar, her black high heels kicking off and clattering to the ground. I floated out after them. I saw that the vehicle waiting wasn’t an ambulance at all, but an unmarked black van. She was shoved roughly into the back seat. Her struggles lasted only a moment. A cold-faced man in the passenger seat raised his hand and slapped her, again and again. Smack! Smack! Smack! “Be quiet! You murderer!” Mrs. Thorne was knocked sideways into the seat, left with only terrified whimpers. The man emotionlessly pulled out his phone and reported. “Mr. Jason, the person has been picked up. Following your instructions, we’ll ‘take good care’ of her!” By the time I floated back to the altar, the guests had left. A funeral that should have been solemn and dignified had turned into a deeply embarrassing farce. Seraphina, shocked and enraged, simply fainted. But this time, Jason didn’t help her. He watched her coldly. Then, with the tip of his shoe, he disdainfully and scornfully prodded Seraphina’s limp body. His contempt was undisguised. “Wake her up.” A bucket of ice water was splashed on Seraphina. Seraphina jolted awake in the biting cold. “Jason, what… what are you doing? Why…” Jason curved a cold smile, leaning down to look at her. “Why what?” “I just don’t want to pretend with you anymore.” Seraphina’s voice instinctively trembled. “Pretend? Is it because the Thorne family has fallen, and you think I’m useless now?” “Jason, you weren’t like this before, you used to constantly say you loved…” Jason angrily cut Seraphina off. “Enough! What right do you have to speak of ‘love’! In that villa, there was never a single photo of Elara. Everything that belonged to her, I took care of three years ago, cleanly, not a trace left.” “When you deliberately let me see it, I knew. You were testing me.” Jason took a step forward, the invisible pressure almost suffocating Seraphina. “You asked me who she was, didn’t you?” “Now, I’ll give you the answer.” Jason’s gaze drifted upward, all pretense gone, his cruel nature laid bare. “Her name was Elara. She was the only wife I’ve ever had.” “Three years ago, at the abandoned factory west of the city, you pushed her. Your mother had the body dismembered into twenty-eight pieces to cover it up. Your father arranged for them to be cemented into the factory’s foundation during the renovation.” I floated in the air. I watched, cold and detached, as Seraphina trembled in absolute terror, too afraid to even sob. Jason gripped Seraphina’s neck, his eyes burning with monstrous hatred. “I married you,” he snarled, “to get close to my wife’s murderer. Closer and closer…” “…until I could kill you. Slowly.”

The body beneath his hand went limp. Seraphina, overwhelmed by terror, fainted again. “Mr. Jason, should we wake her up again?” A bodyguard whispered, seeking instructions. “No need. Lock her in the basement. The game… is more fun when played slowly.” Jason’s voice was devoid of emotion. He turned and walked directly towards the study. The moment the wooden door closed, his shoulders sagged slightly. Looking at his back, I instinctively felt a bone-deep weariness and vulnerability. Jason walked to the bookshelf, pressing certain book spines. With the sound of mechanical movement, a hidden compartment popped open. I expected top-tier jewelry, confidential documents, or something similar. But no, there was only a neatly folded, old dress, a faded hair tie, a few polaroid photos with worn edges, and… my meticulously clean photo frame. A sense of familiarity and fragmented memories surged. I knew those were my things. “Elara…” Jason murmured, his voice terribly hoarse. “Did you see? I made her afraid, she’s finally afraid.” He chuckled, but as he laughed, tears unexpectedly streamed down, turning into suppressed, painful sobs. “Elara… twenty-eight cuts. Were you scared then?” Jason questioned, clutching the photo frame. Standing behind Jason, my soul trembled. I frantically shook my head, hoping he wouldn’t continue to torment himself like this. But I was just a wisp of a soul, only able to helplessly float around him. Jason’s tone grew increasingly obsessive and deranged. “I was your husband, and I failed to protect you. I couldn’t get there… I’m guilty.” “Elara, I should also suffer twenty-eight cuts!” As soon as he spoke, Jason abruptly pulled a sharp utility knife from the study drawer. I gasped in alarm, immediately wanting to grab his hand to stop him, but I could only watch my soul fruitlessly pass through Jason’s arm. Jason didn’t hesitate, raising his hand and savagely slashing his left arm. Blood instantly gushed out! “Does it hurt? Elara.” He stared at the photo, his eyes unfocused. It was as if he was looking through it at me, who had suffered all those years ago. I was frantic with tears, silently comforting him. It doesn’t hurt anymore. Jason, it stopped hurting a long time ago. “Was it… was it this painful back then?” The second cut was deeper. Blood instantly stained most of his white shirt. I was in unbearable agony, but no matter how I pleaded or cried out. Jason couldn’t hear or perceive me. Just as I tried to stop Jason’s self-mutilation again, my “hand” desperately brushed against the computer keyboard. Clack! One of the keyboard caps pressed down ever so slightly, yet distinctly. I could actually press a key! The sound was faint. But in the study’s deathly silence, a silence broken only by the blade slicing through flesh, it echoed like thunder. Jason’s movements froze instantly. His hand, poised to make another cut, halted mid-air. His bloodshot eyes stared in disbelief at the computer screen. There, on the screen, in a blank document I had personally pulled up, a few words slowly appeared. “It doesn’t hurt” Time itself seemed to freeze.

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I took thirteen stab wounds for Jacob. After I got out of the hospital, he married me. But at the wedding, right after he slipped a ring on my finger, he pulled out an even bigger diamond ring and walked straight toward his first love, Celeste. “Celeste,” he choked out, “I never forgot my promise to put a wedding ring on your finger. I’m sorry I failed you.” Jacob started sobbing in front of everyone. Celeste held him gently, her eyes lifting over his shoulder and locking on mine. “Maya, you saved Jacob, so he should marry you. Besides… I’m dying. Promise me you’ll take care of him. I’ll watch over you both from heaven.” Then the two of them kissed—completely lost in each other. Everyone laughed at me. I slipped off my ring. “Jacob, go marry this bitch. I wish you both the best.” My few words seemed to infuriate Celeste. She clutched her heart, coughing and twitching violently. I knew it was an act. But Jacob didn’t. “Maya Hayes, you are absolutely vicious!” He roared, his voice raw. “I’m marrying you! What else could you possibly want? Celeste is dying, and you’d curse her? Do you have any heart? Are you even human?” He screamed these words at me in front of all our friends and family. Then, gnoring the desperate pleas from both our parents, he scooped Celeste into his arms and stormed out of the wedding. His exit was absolute. There wasn’t a shred of hesitation. Not a flicker of regret for me. It was as if he’d forgotten the story behind every scar that marked my skin. In the lavish wedding hall, only I, the bride, remained. The mocking whispers of the guests echoed in my ears. “This was supposed to be a beautiful wedding, and she ruined everything. Couldn’t she just suck it up? She had to make such a scene, it’s completely disgraced the Reed family.” “She can’t keep a man’s heart, and then she throws tantrums. She’s hopeless. We should have just made some food at home, just a casual meal, instead of this ridiculous wedding.” “We’re out of patience. You’re on your own.” Jacob’s parents unleashed all their anger on me, making me their scapegoat. No matter what, the Reed family was blameless, Jacob was blameless. No one spoke up for me. Because I grew up in an orphanage, with no family, no connections. My eyes welled up as I watched Jacob’s parents and the guests leave. I looked up at the bright chandeliers. My pristine white wedding dress, at this moment, felt like a shroud, mourning seven years of my pathetic, unrequited love.

Seven years. I alone knew the truth of my sorrow. Thinking back, I couldn’t hold back my tears. Jacob had told me his family was old money, and his parents valued heritage. To gain their approval, I had to work hard. I loved Jacob, and I knew the path ahead was difficult, but I rushed headfirst into it, like a moth to a flame. I always obeyed Jacob’s parents, giving up my dream of becoming a detective to be a housewife. Even then, I wasn’t allowed to sit at the dinner table. Because of my humble origins, Jacob’s parents found me ‘unclean’. They saw me as beneath them, tainted by my background. I thought with time, I could warm them up. But Jacob’s passion for me steadily dwindled, while his interactions with Celeste became more frequent. Even so, I clung to a sliver of hope. So, when Jacob was attacked by thugs, I didn’t hesitate, shielding him and fighting them off, taking thirteen knife wounds! Blood soaked my clothes, blurring my vision. As I lay bleeding, consciousness fading, I heard Jacob screaming my name. In that second, I felt Jacob’s love and thought dying for him was worth it. But it was all my hallucination. Jacob had always truly loved Celeste… I sighed, wiping away my tears, and was the last to leave the hotel. To my surprise, Jacob’s father was waiting outside. “I’ll arrange a press conference. You’ll admit your mistake and take all the blame, don’t you dare affect Jacob.” He saw me and spoke, his tone an order.

“Mistake? What mistake have I made?” I shot back. “If you still want to remain a Reed, and be Mrs. Reed, then do as I say. Otherwise, don’t bother coming home!” Mr. Reed’s face darkened. He delivered his harsh ultimatum, then got into his car and drove away. I clenched my fists. Even if I was as obedient as a dog, wagging my tail at their slightest gesture, overjoyed by a scrap they threw me. Even if I offered my life, I still wouldn’t get their approval. Celeste’s status would always be higher than mine. The weather bureau had announced a possible hailstorm today, but I didn’t call the Reed family to beg for forgiveness as I usually would. I refused to be threatened, refused to compromise anymore. I thought about finding shelter back inside the hotel, but the security guard stopped me. It was definitely the Reed family’s doing again. They wanted to force me to behave like a dog. I still refused to comply, walking alone on the street. My phone was in my car, so I couldn’t call a ride. The sky grew darker, and finally, the hail began to fall. I had nowhere to hide. I let the hailstones pelt me, feeling like I was being stoned. My head was bleeding, and I collapsed onto the ground. My white wedding dress was stained red again. Suddenly, I felt ridiculous. Seven years of my youth had led to this pathetic, desolate end. My consciousness started to fade. “The choice I gambled my life on… in the end, it was wrong…” I finally succumbed and passed out. When I woke up, I was in a hospital’s VIP room. My entire body was wrapped in bandages. I asked the nurse and learned that a patrol officer had happened to pass by and saved me. Otherwise, I might have been killed by the hail. After all, my old wounds hadn’t fully healed, and now I had new ones. Even a person of iron couldn’t endure it. “Mr. Reed, there’s already someone in this room. She’s very badly injured.” “So what? The last VIP room is for Celeste! I’m Jacob Reed, the heir to the Reed fortune, and the hospital has my family’s shares. Who dares defy me will be fired!” Suddenly, I heard Jacob and a nurse arguing outside. Before I could even process it, the door flew open. Jacob stormed in, carrying Celeste in his arms. Without so much as a glance toward the bed, he yelled, “You! Move the patient in this bed to another room, now! I’ll take full responsibility for any consequences!” “And I want Celeste taken care of immediately! Or everyone gets fired!” Only when his orders were given did he finally look up and saw me. He froze, startled. “What are you doing here?”

His surprise lasted only two seconds before Jacob frowned, an impatient expression on his face. “Maya, you must be very angry for following us here!” “I’m so sorry, I had an episode, that’s why Jacob dropped the wedding and rushed me to the hospital.” “Blame me, don’t blame Jacob.” Celeste squeezed out a few tears, looking pitifully at me. She acted like she was apologizing, but her saccharine words were pure poison. This, of course, made Jacob’s heart ache all over again. “Maya! Celeste is like this, how can you still blame her? Can’t you be more understanding?” He snapped at me, annoyed. “Have I said a single word since you both walked in?” I retorted, my voice cold. My entire body was wrapped in bandages, an IV drip in my arm, yet Jacob didn’t ask about my condition or show any concern. His eyes were only on Celeste. True love, indeed. Jacob was momentarily speechless, knowing I had a point, but he quickly went back to his accusing tone. “Even if you didn’t say anything, you deliberately followed us, then faked an injury to compete with Celeste for the VIP room. You’re truly malicious.” “I honestly regret ever knowing you!” “Give up the bed to Celeste immediately, and I might still forgive you!” His icy words were like a command to a dog. “Jacob, don’t be angry. Maya certainly didn’t mean it…” Celeste feigned concern, tugging on Jacob’s clothes, trying to ‘calm’ him. In reality, she was just adding fuel to the fire. “Celeste, you’re just too kind.” Jacob’s gaze softened the moment it landed on Celeste. When it flicked back to me, it had iced over completely. “Maya, stop this nonsense. Move.” He urged. He was desperate to appease his first love. The old me would have shuffled aside without a word, anxious not to cause him any trouble. But not this time. “I’m a patient here, too,” I said, holding his cold stare. “Why should I be the one to move?”

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Luke deleted Tiffany’s number and wiped out every trace of her from our place. He even fixed our busted wedding photo and hung it back up above our bed. I thought, maybe I should give him one more shot. Then, bam—two envelopes show up on the same day: my prenatal appointment reminder… and Tiffany’s damn wedding invite. He didn’t even hesitate—drove straight to her wedding. Right in front of everyone, he pulled Tiffany behind him and slammed a check on the groom’s chest. “Here’s $880,000. Now get the hell out.” The video blew up online. Everyone was obsessed with the runaway bride and their so-called epic love story. That’s when it hit me—Luke never let Tiffany go. And that night, I lost the baby. When my friend sent me the wedding-crashing video, I was making soup for Luke. “Is that him?” “What the hell happened?” “He and that massage girl are back together?” Countless messages flooded my phone. It was exactly like three years ago, when Luke got into a brawl and threw a guy off a third-floor balcony for Tiffany, landing himself all over the news. The same damn story. And of course, people in the comments recognized him. “OMG, this guy’s crazy streak showed three years ago!” “If you’re not marrying me, I’ll crash the wedding! We’re destined to be tangled till we die.” “Right? This is like a dark romance novel come to life, the kind of toxic love-hate saga everyone secretly binge-reads!” I slowly scrolled through the comments, forgetting to turn off the stove. The ceramic pot cracked. Boiling soup scalded my skin. But I barely felt the pain. I just silently called Luke. His phone was off. I let out a laugh, my heart growing colder. He had promised me this morning he would come with me for my prenatal check-up after work. He had sworn on his knees by my hospital bed that he would be a good husband. Was I sad? Was I hurting? I wasn’t sure. After all, I’d already experienced the deepest despair three years ago. I calmly cleaned up the kitchen. Then I called the hospital. “Please cancel my prenatal check-up. Could you book an abortion for me instead? The sooner, the better.”

Luke got home at three in the morning. I sat on the couch, my eyes raw from exhaustion. Our gazes met. A heavy silence stretched between us. On the table, the tablet played his wedding-crashing video on loop. “Here’s $880,000…” Once, twice, three times. Luke strode over and shut it off. Then, slowly, he knelt. He was kneeling for that woman. The thought alone was pathetic. “I know it’s too late for excuses,” he said, his voice rough. “But I swear, this is the last time I help her.” “Her dad has lung cancer, he needs money for surgery.” “She came to me first, but I refused to see her. That’s why she was selling herself to that man.” “I just felt sorry for her, you have to believe me…” Just pity. How many times had Luke said that? He probably lost count long ago. But I remembered every single time. Because every time he said it, I was the one who suffered. Funding her education, out of pity. Arranging her job, out of pity. Buying her a house, out of pity. Getting into a fight for her, out of pity. And now, even stopping her from marrying someone else, he still claimed it was out of pity? “Your compassion knows no bounds.” The sarcasm hit its mark. He stood to hug me, but I shoved him away. “Claire, are you going to leave me again?” Luke knelt on one knee, his eyes watering. “Luke, the one who gave up first doesn’t get to make demands.”

I never imagined Luke would cheat. The day I discovered his betrayal marked exactly 5,200 days since we first met. Childhood sweethearts. High school lovers. Married young. Over a decade of shared history. All of it shattered by the tears of a massage girl. In those days, Luke was always working late. Friends would joke, asking if I ever worried he was having an affair. I’d just smile serenely and say. “Why worry? If a man is tainted, you simply throw him away.” But I had overestimated Luke’s loyalty, and underestimated the depth of my own love. To love anyone more than you love yourself comes with a price. And my punishment arrived on schedule. Luke had spent half a million dollars at that massage parlor. The truth slipped out from his friend over dinner. A sudden silence swallowed the table. That was the day I most wished I could forget. Because it was the same day I discovered I was pregnant. I had planned to share our happy news with everyone at that table. Instead, I shattered. I demanded to know which parlor, which woman. When I confronted Tiffany, the man who usually walked on eggshells around me, suddenly stood in front of her and yelled at me. “Are you done making a scene?!” “I’m so sorry, Claire. I’m the one who seduced Luke. If you want to hit or scold anyone, just direct it at me.” Losing all reason, I pushed Luke aside and slapped Tiffany’s pitiful face. Luke held the sobbing woman, glaring at me with furious hatred. “Claire, don’t you dare go too far!” “You’re always so bossy with me, forcing me to do this and that, so what if I just want to spend some money on her?!” His words felt like an ice-cold punch to the gut, making me tremble with rage. From that day on, Luke and I fell into a continuous cold war. Everyone thought he would be the first to back down. After all, it was clearly his fault, and for so many years, he had always been compliant with my every wish. But in the end, it was me who had to use the pregnancy to get him back.

I never realized how much I loved Luke. From our student days, he was always the one chasing me, the one giving everything. The moment I realized I couldn’t lose him, I even started to wonder. Was I really too strong-willed with him? So that day when I called him, I poured out every soft, pleading word I could think of. “Just come back, just cut ties with that woman, and we can pretend nothing ever happened, okay?” My voice was so careful, so pathetic. But he said no. He said he had to protect Tiffany. “She’s had such a tough life, I just feel like I owe her, I have to make it up to her.” To get him to come home, I agreed to give Tiffany a monthly allowance. I thought that would finally be enough. But Luke kept finding excuses to see her every single day. If a friend brought delicious pastries, he would immediately take them to that girl so she could try. If he got concert tickets, his first thought was to take that girl so she could see the world. He even opened a bar for Tiffany, naming it “The Siren’s Gaze.” When a drunk man harassed Tiffany, Luke didn’t hesitate to throw him off a balcony. Fortunately, the man’s fall was broken by a tree. After we paid a hefty settlement, the case was closed. “When you did that,” I asked, my voice trembling, “did you ever think of me? Of our child?” “Do you want our child to be born with a criminal for a father?” But Luke just accused me of having no compassion before he started destroying our home. When our wedding photo shattered, the glass cracked perfectly between us – separating his image from mine forever. Broken mirrors are hard to restored. The tragedy is, I was too young back then to understand that simple truth. On our wedding anniversary, I waited at a restaurant we’d booked months ago until closing time. What I got instead was a post on Tiffany’s Ins. “Thank you for showing me that even if you’re not perfect, you can still be loved.” In the photo, she was wearing the latest Chanel haute couture dress, carrying a Louis Vuitton bag. All identical to mine. She was telling me that everything I had, she would have too. Luke was raising her all over again, using my lifestyle. In that instant, nausea and an unspeakable sense of grief overwhelmed me. I drove, tears streaming down my face, directly to the villa Luke had bought for her. The moment I pushed open the door, I froze. There was Tiffany, wearing my wedding dress. They were kissing. I think I truly lost my mind then. I screamed, a raw, hysterical sound, and rushed forward to tear them apart. In the struggle, Tiffany shoved me. I fell to the floor. And then I felt it – the warm blood spreading beneath me.

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Liam and I grew up together in the same orphanage. On my tenth birthday, I made a wish: to marry Liam when I grew up. But then, a group of older kids started bullying me. Liam shielded me, yelling for me to run. I ran from the orphanage like crazy. And then, I time-traveled ten years into the future. The orphanage was now a ruin. A man stood in front of the wreckage. I recognized him as Liam at first glance. But the woman he was embracing wasn’t me. Liam glanced at me, then said to the woman beside him: “Damn it, Stella, that kid looks exactly like Mia.” Stella, the woman he’d called out, squatted down, scrutinizing me with a gentle smile: “She certainly does. It’s been ten years since you two split. If Mia remarried and had a child, they’d be about this age.” “If that messy incident hadn’t happened back then, our child would be taller than her now, wouldn’t they?” She measured my height with her hand again, her eyes suddenly welling up. Liam seemed momentarily stunned, resting his chin on her head, his voice soft: “It’s okay. It’s all in the past.” His gaze fell back on my face, and he couldn’t help but ask: “Is your mom named Mia?” He frowned, a hint of barely concealed disgust in his tone: “So dirty. Exactly like she was when she was little.” Liam had changed. He seemed to really dislike me. My hand, clutching the hem of my clothes, tightened. I nodded gently: “Yeah, I’m lost.” Liam didn’t waste words. He pulled out his phone and tapped a couple of times: “Mike, find Mia’s address for me.” After a long moment, a reply came through. He hung up, walked to his Maybach, and opened the door: “Get in. I’ll take you home.” His tone was flat, devoid of emotion. I slipped into the car gingerly, pulling a crumpled tissue from my pocket. I padded it under my butt before I dared to sit down lightly. “You actually have more manners than your mother.” Liam glanced at me. I couldn’t tell if it was mockery or an observation. Stella in the passenger seat leaned against the seat and nudged his arm: “Why are you arguing with a kid, Liam? She’s so well-behaved.” Liam caught her restless hand and kissed it openly, as if no one else was there. I quickly lowered my head, feeling awkward. The Liam from my childhood said he’d be with me forever. It was a lie. My nose stung with a pang of sadness, and my stomach rumbled unruly. It was exceptionally loud in the quiet car, and my face flushed. Stella smiled, handing me a beautifully wrapped cream cake: “Hungry, aren’t you? Have this to tide you over.” I shook my head, my voice faint: “No thanks. Could you please stop the car? I want to buy a couple of pastries.” I added: “I’ll pay for them myself. It won’t take long.” The car slowly decelerated, stopping in front of a bakery. Liam got out with me. “One savory pastry, one plain roll.” I reached into my pocket for money, but Liam was faster. He tapped his phone to pay, and the person behind the counter immediately handed me the pastries. I was startled: “It’s so advanced!” A rare smile touched Liam’s eyes: “What, does your mom usually raise you like a cave dweller?” “Then again, she was so clumsy. At your age, she couldn’t even tie her shoelaces, let alone raise a child this old.” As he spoke, his lips involuntarily curved upwards. But soon, the warmth faded from his face, replaced by cold indifference: “Eat quickly. I don’t have time to waste with you.” “Mhm.” I took a bite of the savory pastry, and instinctively offered Liam a flattened piece of the plain roll. At the orphanage, we used to flatten the rolls, making them bigger, as if that would fill our stomachs more. Liam’s gaze fixed on my actions, his pupils constricting. I realized what I’d done, my face flushed crimson, and I awkwardly pulled my hand back. I quickly finished the pastry and got back into the car. I instinctively took out a tissue and folded it under me. When I looked up, I met Liam’s gaze. He said nothing. The car started, eventually stopping in front of a kids’ clothing store. “Try this one.” He took down a white tulle dress, adorned with delicate pearls. When I put it on, the sales assistant couldn’t help but compliment: “Sir, your daughter looks beautiful in this, like a little angel.” “Yeah, just like her mother.” He didn’t correct her, a faint smile gracing his lips. Stella’s face stiffened, and the warmth in her eyes lessened as she looked at me. She reminded him: “Liam, let’s not waste time. Mia will be worried if she can’t find her daughter.” Liam nodded and strode back to the car. The car drove for almost an hour, eventually stopping in front of an old, dilapidated apartment complex. The paint was peeling from the walls, and clutter was piled in the stairwell. Liam frowned but said nothing. He led me up to the sixth floor and raised his hand to knock. I felt a flicker of excitement. What would my grown-up self be like? But an old lady opened the door. When she heard we were looking for Mia, she tilted her head in thought for a moment before suddenly tapping her forehead: “Oh, you mean her? She died ten years ago.”

Liam’s car keys clattered to the floor, but he didn’t notice. Staring intently at the old lady, he choked out the words with difficulty: “What did you say? How is that possible…?” I was stunned too. The wind blew in from the stairwell, carrying a chill. I instinctively shrank behind Liam, feeling a little scared, and an indescribable sadness. “Why would I lie to you?” The old lady sighed: “She rented my place. Her husband ran off, and with postpartum depression, she committed suicide by hanging.” “Her body hung from the old ceiling fan, creaking for a week before anyone found it. I only found out when I came to collect the rent.” Her tone held a hint of reproach as she mentioned this: “Made this place unsellable, so I, this old woman, had to live here myself.” “Impossible!” Liam suddenly pointed at me, his emotions flaring: “Mia, who was afraid of even a fall, how could she commit suicide?” “Besides, if she died, how did her daughter grow up to be this old?” “That girl did have a daughter back then, but I heard she was sent to an orphanage after birth.” The old lady’s clouded eyes fixed on me: “You certainly look like your mother.” She paused, then remembered something else: “Oh, and she left a pile of belongings. They’re just taking up space in the storage room. If you want them, take them.” The old lady hobbled inside. I cautiously explained to Liam: “I was also trying to find my mom through you. I didn’t know she…” Liam didn’t listen to me, walking straight in. The interior was dilapidated, with large patches of peeling paint on the walls. He stared at the creaking ceiling fan, muttering to himself: “How could she have ended up like this? Back when she left, I gave her half my assets, at least a few million.” No one could answer his question, and neither could I. He took a large box of belongings from the old lady, walking downstairs dejectedly. I followed closely behind him. Stella, who had been waiting in the car for a long time, looked at me in surprise: “Liam, haven’t you sent her away yet?” “Mia… is dead.” Liam choked out the words, his shoulders trembling almost imperceptibly. Stella gasped, covering her mouth: “How could this happen? Liam, did you ask where Mia’s grave is? Let’s go visit.” “Even though she did those things back then, we were still friends.” She leaned closer to Liam, her eyes slightly red-rimmed. I couldn’t help but wonder. From the moment we met, I felt a barrier between the grown-up Liam and me. What happened ten years ago to break us apart, even causing me to leave? “No need.” Liam’s voice was cold: “I said I’d hardly ever see Mia again, whether she was alive or dead.” “Stella, didn’t you have a salon appointment? I’ll drop you off.” He pulled open the car door. Stella pointed at me: “What about her? Maybe send her to an orphanage.” Liam glanced at my restless self: “Let’s take her back first, we’ll figure it out.” A flicker of disappointment crossed her eyes, but she still smiled and nodded: “Okay.” Soon, the car arrived at the beauty salon. Liam kissed Stella’s forehead: “Go on, I’ll pick you up when you’re done.” “Mrs. Stone is so lucky!” The wives waiting at the salon joked: “I heard that whenever you go out, you don’t even have to put on your own shoes; Mr. Stone drives you everywhere and even carries you out of the car.” Stella blushed and waved goodbye to Liam. Hearing those words, a pang of sadness hit me, and I stared blankly out the window. Liam, however, was clearly more distracted than me. Not long after driving off, he accidentally cut off another car. The driver opposite immediately rolled down his window, leaned out, and was about to curse. But when he recognized Liam, his expression suddenly turned to surprise: “Liam!” “Do you remember me? I’m Brenda, Mia’s classmate from grad school.” Brenda leaned in to look into the car, her gaze falling on me with delighted surprise: “Is this your child with Mia? She’s all grown up and looks just like her mother!” After saying that, she couldn’t help but sigh: “Everyone in our department was envious of Mia back then. She’d be busy with experiments until midnight, and you’d always be waiting downstairs with hot soup for her.” “I thought that after what happened, with her stubborn personality, she’d never end up with you.” “Guess I was overthinking it.”

Confusion flickered in Liam’s eyes: “Something happened? What happened?” “Mia and I always had a great relationship during grad school, we never even argued.” “No wonder people always sugarcoat the mistakes they made back then.” Brenda’s gaze towards Liam grew cold, filled with scorn and condemnation: “That year, Mia cried for a day and a night because you cheated. She called you hundreds of times, even flew to A-City overnight to find you.” She pulled out her phone, scrolled for a long time, and finally brought up a photo. The pixel quality from over ten years ago was blurry, but it was vaguely identifiable as a photo of Stella and Liam. In the picture, Liam’s collar was open, his neck covered in suggestive hickey marks. Stella lay in his arms, smiling at the camera. My heart felt like it was being pricked by needles, hurting intensely as I looked at the photo. So the grown-up me was with Liam, but he cheated. Brenda grew angrier as she spoke: “Even on our university’s anniversary, Stella, visibly pregnant, publicly slandered Mia as a homewrecker in front of hundreds of faculty and VIPs.” “The incident became a huge scandal. Mia was crushed by public opinion, unable to hold her head high, and was eventually forced to drop out of school.” “Liam, did you even have a heart back then?” Liam stared at the photo, his eyes filled with shock: “I had no idea about any of this.” “That year, I was drinking all night for a tricky project. The next day, I had no record of Mia’s calls on my phone, and I didn’t know she came to find me.” “Even when she dropped out, she only told me she wasn’t feeling well and wanted a short break…” His throat tightened, and he involuntarily gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white. Liam didn’t remember how he got home. Exhausted, he instructed a maid to prepare a room for me: “Get some rest first. Call me if you need anything.” After that, he walked straight to the liquor cabinet, opened a bottle, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Smoke quickly filled the air, blurring his expression. From upstairs, I watched Liam curled up in the corner, feeling an inexplicable ache in my heart. His phone buzzed. Liam glanced at the screen, then silently turned it off. In the evening, Stella returned. She stomped her foot, pouting dramatically with feigned grievance: “Liam, didn’t you say you’d pick me up? Why didn’t you answer my calls?” She naturally threw herself into Liam’s arms, not noticing the pile of empty bottles on the floor. Liam looked at her, then after three seconds of silence, he abruptly grabbed her by the neck: “Why did you go to Mia’s school and cause trouble that year? Do you even know that her biggest dream since childhood was to study?” Liam’s grip slowly tightened. Stella’s face turned crimson, gasping for breath, as she weakly tried to argue: “I was just a jealous young girl back then. I didn’t know it would affect her so much.” She cried harder and harder, tears splashing onto Liam’s hand. He paused, then withdrew his hand. Stella collapsed into his arms, sobbing: “Liam, it’s been so many years. Please forgive me.” “Besides, didn’t I get punished too?” “Mia pushed me down the stairs. I miscarried, and it’ll be difficult for me to have children for the rest of my life.” Liam’s fingers curled, but he ultimately pulled her into his embrace. For a long time, he stood on the balcony, cigarette butts littering the floor. “She bullied my mom. Are you just going to let her get away with it?” Liam turned around and saw me standing in the darkness, my eyes fixed on him. That gaze almost made Liam squirm with shame. Especially looking at my face, so similar to Mia’s, he couldn’t even meet my eyes. “Adult matters aren’t as simple as you think.” He touched my head, a bitter smile on his face: “Your mother also did something very wrong back then.”

Watching his retreating back, I suddenly felt Liam was a stranger. Perhaps feeling guilty towards Mia, Liam poured all that compensatory guilt onto me. He arranged for my adoption, and took me to amusement parks on weekends. Any doll I casually mentioned would appear by my bedside the next day. But the longer we spent together, the more complex his gaze became. My habit of chewing on pen caps, or licking the milk mustache before drinking, would make him stare blankly for ages. He would also murmur: “So similar.” Stella watched this scene, her nails digging deeply into her palms. The next morning at breakfast, she suddenly clutched her throat, recoiled, and slapped me hard across the face: “Why did you put peanut butter in my toast? Don’t you know I’m allergic to peanuts?” Stella’s body rapidly broke out in a dense rash, visible to the naked eye. Liam rushed over at the commotion. The maid chimed in: “Sir, we’ve followed your instructions. No peanut products are allowed in the house. This child must have snuck them in.” “Yesterday, she even specifically asked me about Ms. Stella’s likes and dislikes, saying she wanted to get revenge for her mother.” Liam supported Stella, his eyes full of disappointment as he looked at me: “How could you become like this, as vicious as your mother?” Before he could finish, I scratched my arm. A patch of rash also appeared on my arm. Stella and I were both sent to the hospital. The diagnosis was that I was also allergic to peanuts, and it was hereditary. Liam seized on the word ‘hereditary’ and stormed into Stella’s hospital room. Grabbing her hand, he sharply questioned: “Eleven years ago, you almost went into anaphylactic shock because of a peanut allergy, and you claimed Mia loved peanut butter so she forced you to eat it.” “But the doctor just said this is a hereditary allergy. Mia couldn’t eat peanuts either.” His grip was so strong it almost crushed Stella’s arm. Stella, her face pale, tried to argue: “It happened so many years ago, how could I remember clearly?” Liam let go of her, the disappointment in his eyes intensifying. He turned and left. Stella frantically chased after him, tugging at his clothes, tears streaming down her face: “Liam, please listen to me. I must have said the wrong thing back then because I was so scared.” “But my allergy is real, and Mia forcing me to eat it is also real. Let’s go back to the room and talk properly, okay?” Liam looked at her tear-reddened eyes and finally gave in, letting her pull him into the hospital room. The door clicked shut, and ambiguous gasps came from inside. I stood at the stairwell, my heart sinking bit by bit. So the grown-up Liam was so easily swayed. His kindness to me before didn’t seem so steadfast anymore. With Liam backing her, Stella became emboldened, and her tactics grew even more malicious. She would deliberately paint me as vulgar and uncouth in front of him, saying I chewed with my mouth open, and always spoke ill of her behind my back. She would even suddenly scream while showering, then rush into Liam’s arms wrapped in a towel, claiming I was secretly filming her. After a while, Liam grew annoyed. When Stella again suggested sending me to an orphanage, a clear flicker of hesitation crossed his eyes. At dinner, Liam sat across from me, hesitating before speaking: “I’ve asked Mike to find your biological father. In the future, I’ll pay you five hundred thousand dollars in child support annually, as compensation from me to Mia.” I nodded numbly: “Okay.” Liam’s phone suddenly vibrated. He answered the call. Mike’s voice came from the receiver: “Mr. Stone, the child with you isn’t Ms. Mia’s at all.” “And Ms. Mia’s death isn’t as simple as it seems!”

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I saw the nanny swap her baby with my sister. Just as I was about to switch them back, a the live commentary scrolling across my vision **[This must be the start of Alice’s nightmare, right?]** **[Her biological sister is actually a born devil.]** **[At three years old, she’d stab her sister’s eyes with a fork.]** **[At ten, she’d put mercury in her sister’s milk.]** **[At eighteen, she’d sell her off to some remote place just to claim the inheritance…]** **[She’s nothing like the nanny’s girl – so sweet and docile!]** **[The choice of who gets to be her sister is entirely up to Alice now.]** I quickly put the baby down. Actually… blood ties aren’t *that* important, right? Who truly cares for me is what matters most. My mom was being rushed into the delivery room, and my dad and I were pacing anxiously in the hospital corridor. The doctor’s warning before he entered the emergency room still echoed in my mind. He’d said the baby was in a difficult position and might require a C-section after attempting natural birth, so we should prepare ourselves. We waited for nearly four hours, until finally, my dad and I heard a baby’s cry. Mother and daughter were safe. When the nurse wheeled Mom and my sister out, Mom was still groggy from the anesthesia, completely lost in a deep sleep. Back in the hospital room, Mrs. Davis, our nanny, who had been waiting since early morning, immediately came forward, eager to care for Mom. My dad quickly waved her off. “No, no, Mrs. Davis. You just gave birth yourself; you should go rest first.” It was a strange coincidence; Mrs. Davis and my mom had given birth on the same day. But Mrs. Davis had a natural delivery and was out of the delivery room much earlier. She was still quick on her feet and, as soon as she was cleaned up, she hurried to Mom’s room. When my dad insisted, she just waved her hand, looking completely unfazed. “We’re not that delicate, Mr. Peterson. My mother-in-law was back working in the fields the day after she had my husband.” Mrs. Davis’s honest husband, Mr. Davis, stood beside her, nodding in agreement. Even though my dad tried to protest further, Mrs. Davis had already taken the warm towel from his hand and gently wiped the cold sweat from Mom’s forehead. Mrs. Davis then nudged me forward. “Alice is still young, and she’s been hungry for a long time. Mr. Peterson, you should take Alice out to eat.” She added that my dad was a big man, clumsy with babies, and would only be in the way in the room. My dad looked a bit awkward but also seemed to relax. Clearly, he was quite pleased with Mrs. Davis’s initiative to stay and look after Mom. Besides, Mrs. Davis had worked for our family for many years and had never made a single mistake. After a moment of hesitation, my dad agreed. “We’ll be back soon.” Then he picked me up and carried me downstairs. On the way, he said, “See, Alice, Mrs. Davis is so good to you. You must never bully her daughter, Chloe, when she grows up.” I nodded obediently. But when we reached the car, my dad realized he’d forgotten the car keys. Just then, his phone rang. He pointed to the hospital building and quietly asked me to go up and fetch the keys for him. Thankfully, I remembered the way back to the room. I ran back to the hospital room with light steps, only to find the door locked. I stood on tiptoes, about to knock and ask Mrs. Davis to open the door. The next second, through the glass panel, I saw her pick up the baby lying beside Mom. Then she placed the unfamiliar baby she was holding into the spot where my sister should have been. She even carefully swapped the wristbands on the infants. My eyes widened, and I held my breath, my entire body tense. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a man swaying as he walked towards the room. Instinctively, I opened the door to the next room and ducked inside. It was Mrs. Davis’s husband, Mr. Davis. Through the slightly ajar door, I heard Mrs. Davis, holding the baby, complaining incessantly to him. “I told you to stand guard at the door, but you just *had* to go take a pee! What if the Petersons find out we swapped the babies?” “If we get caught, neither of us will get off easy, and your daughter won’t be a little lady anymore!” Mr. Davis offered a placating smile. “Oh, come on, I saw them go downstairs to the car. How could they possibly come back? Don’t scare yourself.” Their voices gradually faded away. I tremblingly left the room where I had been hiding, feeling like my whole body was shaking uncontrollably. Terrified, I couldn’t stop crying. I went to Mom’s bedside and kept pushing her, wanting to wake her up and tell her that my sister had been swapped. But Mom was still under the effects of the anesthesia, completely unconscious. No matter how much I pushed, she wouldn’t wake up. I gritted my teeth, intending to pick up the swapped baby and switch her back with my sister. But at that exact moment, the live commentary overlays inexplicably appeared before my eyes— **[Go on, swap them back. Bring your family’s born devil home, and then you’ll learn your lesson.]**

The strange words that had appeared seemed fixed in front of me. Even if I waved my hand to scatter them, they would reappear seconds later. And the content of the words grew more and more alarming. **[That devil, at three years old, she’d stab her sister’s eyes with a fork. At ten, she’d put mercury in the milk her sister was about to drink. Her sister was lucky to even survive to adulthood.]** **[Yeah, and she only lived to adulthood, right? At eighteen, the devil sister sold her off to some remote place…]** **[If it were me, I definitely wouldn’t swap them back. This sweet girl from the nanny’s family is so much better. At least you wouldn’t have to worry about dying any day.]** My hand, poised to pick up the baby and swap my biological sister back, froze in mid-air. I didn’t know what these sudden, strange words were, but I felt an overwhelming fear growing inside me. If I swapped my sister back, would I really end up like they said? Living in constant anxiety and danger until I was eighteen, only to be sold off to the countryside by my sister before I could truly enjoy the world. I instinctively wanted to wake Mom, but she wouldn’t open her eyes no matter what. All I could do was clutch my dress, squatting on the floor and sobbing uncontrollably. Before my sister was born, Mom and Dad had told me countless times to be good to her. Because I was the older sister, and older sisters were naturally supposed to be good to their younger siblings. I knew I should run to the hospital front desk and tell the nurses and doctors that my sister had been swapped. But I was too scared. I didn’t dare. I was terrified that if I brought my sister back, my future would be ruined by her. My eyes were red from crying, gasping for breath. Just then, my dad came panting up the stairs. He’d just finished scolding me for dawdling and taking so long to fetch the keys. The next second, he saw me sobbing, almost collapsing, and quickly hugged me, soothing me gently. “What’s wrong, Alice? Don’t cry, don’t cry. Did someone bully you?” I clutched my dad’s shirt collar, shaking my head through my tears. After finally catching my breath, I blurted out a flimsy excuse with red-rimmed eyes. “No, I just… suddenly missed Mom.” My dad sighed helplessly, stroked my head, and said I was a good daughter. Then, telling Mom and my sister to rest well, he picked me up and carried me out. Before he closed the door, I glanced back at the bassinet. The baby Mrs. Davis had given birth to was awake. Her big, clear eyes stared directly at me. Then she smiled, showing off her soft, pink gums. In that moment, I suddenly made my decision— I’d take a chance. I’d trust the the live commentary just this once. Staying alive was what mattered most!

What happened in the following years made me incredibly grateful for my decision as a child. Because I kept silent about Mrs. Davis swapping the babies, she was able to remain our nanny. To verify the truth of the the live commentary , and also to ensure my real sister wouldn’t truly disappear. I even suggested to Mom and Dad that, to make it easier for Mrs. Davis to balance family and work, she should bring “her daughter,” Bella, to live with us. And it was precisely because of this that I confirmed those the live commentary hadn’t lied to me. Bella, that girl, was truly a born devil! During infancy, Mrs. Davis’s biological daughter, now my sister Chloe, was an angelic baby. She rarely needed to be woken up at night, didn’t cry much, and just smiled at us when she was full. Bella, however, couldn’t be put down; she insisted on being held to sleep. Otherwise, she’d scream her lungs out, which eventually caused Mrs. Davis to develop chronic back pain. As they grew, the contrast between the two girls became even more apparent. Chloe started feeding herself at a very young age. Though she ate slowly and sometimes spilled a bit. She wasn’t picky and sat there obediently. Bella, on the other hand, was three years old and still demanded Mrs. Davis feed her. And when Mrs. Davis was a second too slow, Bella grabbed her kiddie fork and brutally stabbed Mrs. Davis right in the eye. Blood gushed. Leaving her with permanent vision damage in her right eye, nearly half-blind. In that moment, I clamped my hand over my mouth, desperate not to scream. Thank goodness… I hadn’t swapped the babies back then, or I would have been the one blinded. Mrs. Davis was getting her just deserts, in a way. As Bella grew, her lack of empathy and cruelty became increasingly obvious, and her destructiveness grew stronger. At ten, Bella smashed the thermometer at home and poured the mercury into Mrs. Davis’s thermos. If Mrs. Davis hadn’t had her stomach pumped in time, she probably would have died that day. We all witnessed Bella’s actions towards Mrs. Davis. And throughout those eighteen years, her frequent acts of bullying classmates were atrocious. Every time Mom and Dad saw her like this, and then looked at Chloe, who was always trailing behind me like a little shadow, excelling in both academics and character. They couldn’t help but sigh. “Mrs. Davis’s daughter…” “What a difficult life she’s had…” But I couldn’t help but inwardly sneer. Serves her right! If she hadn’t come up with such a sinister scheme to swap the babies, *I* would have been the one suffering, *our family* would have been suffering! So, just before Chloe’s eighteenth birthday celebration. As my parents and I were discussing how to throw a grand coming-of-age party for her. Bella suddenly burst into our house, shouting that she was the real long-lost daughter and Chloe was a fake. My parents’ first reaction was that she was lying.

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I found a box of condoms in my husband’s gym bag. I didn’t confront him. I just quietly poked a few holes in each one. Two months later, my best friend told me. She was unexpectedly pregnant and wanted someone to take responsibility. My husband, Ryan, had been a different man lately. Suddenly, he was pinching the fat around his waist in front of the mirror, eating like a bird. Even more out of character, he’d splurged on a top-tier gym membership. Before, he’d come home from work and flop onto the couch. Now, come hell or high water, he’d grab his bag the moment he walked in, heading straight for the gym. Something was definitely off. While he was in the shower, I snuck into his gym bag. The canvas pocket reeked of sweat. My fingers delved inside, brushing against a square, hard box. My blood ran cold. I pulled it out: condoms. My hands shaking, I pried open the box. The foil packets were neatly arranged. My gaze swept over them, freezing instantly. One, two… Any last shred of doubt withered and died. Two were missing from the box. My fallopian tubes were severely blocked, making natural conception impossible. We never used condoms. He had used them. With whom? A buzzing roar filled my ears. My body went numb, as if plunged into an icy abyss, chilling me from head to toe.

I stealthily retrieved his phone. The screen lit up, the lock screen still our Maldives wedding photo from three years ago. Ryan’s arm was around my waist, and my eyes curved into crescents from smiling in the sunlight. My fingerprint still unlocked it. He hadn’t thought to hide this from me yet. My SnapChat was pinned at the top, our chat history stopping at this morning’s – Remember to buy milk. His text messages were all delivery notifications. The call log for the past week only showed me, his mom, and the delivery guy. I tapped on the DoorDash app; all the order addresses were for the Downtown Tech Hub and Maplewood Residences, Unit 902. His Uber rides were strictly between work and home. Too clean. Clean like a meticulously scrubbed crime scene. I was about to lock the screen. Ding! A Mobile Legends notification popped up: Your friend “InvincibleRyan” has invited you to a ranked match. My finger, seemingly of its own accord, tapped open the game. It led me into a private chat. There were only two people: my husband and “SugarBaby.” I scrolled through the private chat. The world spun around me.

“Baby, did you enjoy that?” [InvincibleRyan] “You were moaning so loud against the glass, the whole building probably heard, hehe~” [InvincibleRyan] “Where’s your wife? Still playing dead fish, waiting for you to honor her with your presence?” [SugarBaby] “Her? She’s long asleep. Having sex with her is like having sex with a corpse, she doesn’t even make a sound. Every time we finish, I’m so disgusted I have to come find you. Nothing like you, baby, last time you screamed so loud my ears were ringing~” [InvincibleRyan] “So, are you coming over tomorrow night? I bought a new lace collar you’ll love~” [SugarBaby] “Yeah, I’ll be there, baby. I’ll make you come so hard you’ll see stars.” [InvincibleRyan] “Okay~ But, do you think she’d burst into tears if she knew you had to think about me just to get hard every time you were with her?” [SugarBaby] “Her? She’d probably just cower in her bed, too scared to even breathe.” [InvincibleRyan] “Then I want to do it right under your wedding photo, let her stare blankly at the headboard every day. Since her belly can’t produce anything, why not let me carry one?” [SugarBaby] …

Reading those chat messages… The raw mockery, the vile obscenities, the venomous personal attacks – they made my whole body tremble with rage. Suddenly, my stomach lurched, bile rising in my throat. I clapped a hand over my mouth, stumbling to the balcony. Clutching the cold railing, I dry-heaved a few times. Tears mixed with snot, a pathetic mess streaking my face. How could this be? This was Ryan, the man who once ran several blocks in a downpour to save cab fare, soaking wet but meticulously shielding the hot soup he was bringing me. This was Ryan, who spent his first paycheck on a necklace for me and ate cheap ramen for a month. This was Ryan, who woke up at 5 AM to stand in line for two hours just because I casually mentioned I wanted a pastry from that popular spot across town. This was Ryan, who cried more than I did at our wedding, declaring, “Marrying you is the greatest blessing of my life.” … Three years ago, when I had that terrible flu. I was burning up, drifting in and out of consciousness. He stayed awake all night, constantly cooling my forehead, neck, and hands with a warm cloth. In the early hours, I was so parched, I rasped out a soft moan. He startled awake, immediately got out of bed, and went to the kitchen for water. The water was too hot, so he poured it back and forth between two cups, repeatedly, until it cooled. He blew on it, tested the temperature himself, and then carefully brought it to my lips. “Slowly, drink slowly…” His eyes held nothing but anxious concern. During that time my career hit rock bottom. My boss was making things difficult, my proposals were rejected again and again. I’d come home late, exhausted, and collapse onto the hallway rug. He always heard me, always came over in silence. He never asked why. He just quietly knelt down and opened his arms. I’d bury my head deep in his embrace, like a lost ship finally finding its safe harbor. He would simply hold me gently. His embrace held a quiet power, shielding me from every storm. Even when my check-up revealed blocked fallopian tubes, meaning I couldn’t conceive naturally. He just held me tight and said, “Don’t be silly! I’d be jealous, a kid would just steal your love from me!” I even felt guilty for his boundless acceptance, believing I owed him a complete family and should repay him with boundless love and devotion. But who would have thought… One person could wear so many masks. Behind that gentle affection lay such repulsive filth. He hadn’t just betrayed his vows. He had casually, brutally, shattered everything we had built together, my genuine heart, my unwavering trust!

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Ninety-nine days after our brutal split, and I was still drowning. Staring at the wreckage Luke left in my apartment, I decided it was time to purge it all. I headed downstairs for moving boxes and passed a new massage place. A guy with a killer smile handed me a flyer. “Grand opening! 20% off!” My body had been a stiff, comatose mess for weeks. Why not? His hands were professional, finding every knot and tense spot. The pain brought tears to my eyes.. Then My phone buzzed. It was Luke. The ex who’d ghosted me the day we broke up. “I think I left my belt at your place. Can you find it for me?” Blunt, to the point, no sugar-coating. I took a deep breath. “I threw it out.” “Come on, Aubrey. Throw out whatever else, but that belt… Chloe gave it to me…” The words choked me, my body shaking with a wave of anger. The cute masseur noticed my tension. “Relax,” he murmured. “Lift your leg.” “Mm-hmm…” Luke’s roar blasted through the phone. “Aubrey, what the hell are you doing?! We just broke up!” My face burned. Right before I hung up, the masseur’s hand pressed hard into a sensitive point on my lower leg. “Ow! That hurts! Easy, please…”

“Aubrey! What are you doing?!” I slammed my phone face-down, silencing Luke’s roar. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to lose myself in the massage, but the tears came anyway, disobedient and hot. Seven years. This is how it ended. Anyone who said it didn’t hurt was a liar. Later, standing at my own door with a stack of empty boxes, I took a deep, steadying breath. It was time. I hardened my resolve and stepped inside to pack away Luke’s relics. I had just tossed one box aside when the keypad at the front door beeped. “Unlocked.” The door flew open. Luke stood there, chest heaving. “Where is he?” “Who?” “The guy you were just with! He sounded young, too, didn’t he? Aubrey, are you that desperate?” As his wild eyes scanned the room, a cold dread filled my stomach. So that’s why he’d come. Because of a sound. “Are you here on a raid?” His silence was confirmation. I scoffed. “We’re broken up. You have no right to be here. And more importantly, does Chloe know you’re here?” Luke seemed to calm. His eyes swept over me. “Who said I’m here to catch you in the act?” He jutted out his chin, extending his hand. “My belt. Hand it over!” I didn’t move. My attention was locked on the lipstick near his feet. That was the first gift he ever gave me. I remembered the first weekend after we started dating. We’d planned a trip to the beach. It was our first trip together. It was also the first time I met Chloe. Chloe was Luke’s longtime family friend, practically a sister. On the train, claimed the middle seat between Luke and me. “Aubrey, I just love the middle seat! You don’t mind, right?” She then grinned. “Oh, and Luke said you’re paying for everything! Your family must be loaded.” I forced a smile, shooting a pained look at Luke. He just turned away, offering no defense. Back then, I was too hopelessly in love to stay mad at him. Our first trip, and I was already seething because of his “sister.” Later, he appeased me with a cheap lipstick. The very one now at his feet. The memory sent a wave of fury through me. “I told you, I threw it out. Try the dumpster.” I shoved Luke away, picked up the lipstick from the floor, and tossed it into a packing box. “You’re throwing that out too?” Luke stared, utterly stunned. “That was my gift!” I pointed at the still-sealed tube and smiled coldly.”An $18.80 lipstick with free shipping, Luke? I wouldn’t dare use it. I’m pretty sure it’s toxic.” Luke’s face immediately darkened, a chaotic mix of embarrassment, fury, and a pathetic attempt at disdain. “You’re not still thinking I bought you that lipstick just because it was cheap, are you?” “I explained it to you! I bought you a designer one later! You forgave me back then, didn’t you?” I just stared at him. When I first got the lipstick, I told myself the same lies. Guys just don’t get all the nuances of makeup, they’re too simple-minded, too lazy to pick out anything good… It wasn’t until months later, when I scrolled past Chloe’s Ins feed and saw picture after picture of her with designer lipsticks Luke had given her, that my defenses completely crumbled. That was the first time Luke and I had a real fight. I hysterically accused Chloe, criticizing all his boundary-crossing behavior with her. Luke just sat there, silently watching me lose my mind, watching me cry non-stop. It wasn’t until I quieted down that he finally spoke. “Aubrey, I honestly didn’t know there was so much to a lipstick. Chloe just picked it out herself and asked me to pay!” “There’s nothing going on between Chloe and me, you know that. Why would I be with you if there was?” “How about this, you pick one too, and I’ll buy it for you!” Just like that, I was placated. I picked out one more expensive than Chloe’s, but now I had no idea where it even was. “I forgave you then. Now we’re broken up. Can’t I just throw it out?” Luke jabbed a finger toward my face. “Aubrey, you’d better not come crawling back to me, begging to get back together, because I-” “I won’t.” I cut him off. The words he hadn’t spoken died in his throat.

In the 99 days since we broke up, this was the first time I felt so resolute. Just a second before Luke walked in, I was still picturing him begging for me back. Or maybe, I’d be the one, unable to hold on, begging him to come back, just like before. But in this very second, I knew there was no possibility for us. Luke looked into our bedroom. It was a mess. The floor was practically buried under all his stuff, all our stuff. That lunchbox on the very top shelf of the kitchen cabinet once held all my burning love for Luke. Luke stormed over, grabbed it, and smashed it to the floor. Bang! It shattered into pieces. “You think I ate all those breakfast burritos you waited in line for every morning freshman year?” “Let me tell you, I never even liked those breakfast burritos. Chloe did!” “Every single time, I gave them to her behind your back!” “How about that? Does that make you mad?” Luke pointed at the broken lunchbox on the floor, his brow furrowed in anger, veins bulging on his neck as he spoke. I wasn’t angry. I wasn’t crying. I merely shot Luke a deadpan look, then squatted down, picking up the pieces and tossing them into a packing box. “Do you know why I stopped bringing you breakfast after that?” My calm tone and detached demeanor made Luke’s hand, hanging by his side, tremble slightly. I still remember that freezing winter morning freshman year. I’d just left the main cafeteria after waiting in line and found it was pouring rain, but I didn’t have an umbrella. So I called Luke. He didn’t answer for a long time, until a loud commotion erupted. “Luke?” “Hello? Luke?” There was no answer on the other end, and I was about to hang up and redial. “Luke, it’s pouring out. Your girlfriend isn’t still standing in line for your breakfast burrito, is she?” I heard Luke’s roommate’s voice, tinged with a teasing note. “If she knew those burritos were all for Chloe, she’d probably lose her mind!” “It’s not like I’m forcing her to buy them.” “Besides, what’s the difference if I eat them or Chloe eats them?” “She…” Luke’s casual voice rang out, tinged with a bit of sleepiness. I couldn’t bring myself to listen to the rest. The moment I hung up, the burritos in my hand suddenly felt like they weighed a thousand pounds. The rain beat down on my face, stinging and cold. I walked back to the dorms through the downpour and came down with a high fever. Luke called me countless times, but I missed every single one. From then on, I never brought Luke breakfast again. Every time Luke brought it up, I would lightly brush it aside. Back then, I was so blindly in love, I convinced myself none of it mattered. I thought I could swallow all the hurt, but deep down, I knew I never really did. It stuck in my throat, refusing to dissolve for years. I walked into the bedroom and threw all the photos we’d taken together into a box. Luke looked a bit unsteady on his feet. “Luke, these photos? They’re all junk.” “Seven years together, and we don’t have a single decent picture of just the two of us.” “No way!” Luke looked utterly incredulous, bending down to rummage through the box. But after he looked, he couldn’t say a word. Luke didn’t like taking pictures, he’d told me that ages ago. Every time I picked up my phone to open the camera, he’d instinctively dodge. Eventually, I figured, whatever, as long as we’re together. But then I accidentally scrolled past Chloe’s Ins feed, and picture after picture showed my boyfriend, Luke. By then, I was already really bothered by Chloe. So I set a boundary with Luke. He agreed, albeit reluctantly. But whenever Luke and I tried to take a picture, Chloe would always appear. It was either a hand, or half a face, or a corner of her clothes, or half a head. She always, at just the right moment, interrupted our photos. “Forget it, if we can’t get a good one, then don’t bother.” In the end, Luke would always walk away, annoyed. That’s why none of our photos were ever good. Our photos always had Chloe in them. Luke’s face was a mess, going from pale to flushed, his mouth opening and closing. Finally, he managed, “Chloe… she…” “She probably didn’t mean to…”

Right. How interesting. He used to say things like that too. Except back then, he wouldn’t say “probably.” He’d say “definitely.” I turned to look at the piano in the living room, and Luke’s gaze followed mine. That was a gift Luke bought me after graduation, with his first big paycheck. It was a gift he promised to buy me after I nagged him for a long time-the second gift in seven years of dating. The ridiculous thing is, I never even played it before it broke. After graduation, Luke and I moved in together. I was comfortable, living off my family’s support, taking my time to find a job. Luke was different. He started clawing his way up from his senior year of college. So I focused on being his pillar of support. During that time, Chloe was busy looking for work, so she rarely appeared. Luke and I’s relationship gradually strengthened. Luke got a promotion and a raise after his first project was a success. To celebrate, he invited a bunch of friends, including Chloe. “Aubrey! You’re such a good influence on Luke! You really keep him together!” “Luke, you mean this house is yours?” Chloe looked around, sizing up the place. I had a bad feeling then, and sure enough, Luke brought up the idea of letting Chloe move in. “Aubrey, Chloe’s apartment complex has had a few break-ins recently. I’m really worried about her living alone.” “If she comes, she can keep you company too!” Luke pleaded with me for a long time. I finally softened and agreed. But the first day Chloe moved in, she “accidentally” spilled water on the piano. I blew up at her, and Chloe ran off crying. The first thing Luke said when he brought her back wasn’t to comfort me, but to accuse me. “Chloe definitely didn’t mean to.” “It’s just a piano, Aubrey. Do you have to make such a huge deal out of it? You’re being so over-the-top!” “I’ll just buy you another one next time, okay?” In that battlefield of three, I never won. That time, I called it quits, but regretted it the next day. Later, the piano was never mentioned again. Luke followed my gaze to the piano, then looked down. “The piano…” “I… I just forgot about it later…” Yes, Luke had a bad memory. But only when it came to me, not Chloe. He couldn’t remember what subway stop my office was on, but he could tell you exactly where the best coffee shop was near Chloe’s job. He couldn’t remember I had pollen allergies, but he could remember Chloe didn’t like cilantro. I didn’t answer, walking directly into the room Chloe used to stay in. The room was painted pastel blue, with a crib, a high chair, a changing table… Everything was brand new and unopened. It was the nursery I had carefully decorated for Luke and my first child. “Luke, you and Chloe owe me a life. Forever.” His eyes instantly reddened. “Aubrey…” Luke reached out to grab me, but I stepped back.

In the summer of 2023, I got pregnant. Using that as an excuse, I demanded Chloe move out. At first, Luke even got mad at me for it, saying I was disrespectful. But when I told him I was pregnant, he fell silent. Truthfully, when Chloe wasn’t around, Luke was really good to me. Chloe had a fight with Luke over it, and they didn’t speak for a long time. Luke also started making arrangements to meet my family and for our engagement and wedding. That period, I was truly happy. It felt like a dream. On our wedding day, Chloe, whom I hadn’t seen in ages, appeared. She brought lavish gifts to celebrate us. In the dressing room, I genuinely believed her well-wishes were sincere. It wasn’t until the ceremony rehearsal that Chloe, volunteering to fix my train, somehow “tripped” and stomped right on it. I lost my balance, lurching forward into a metal floral stand by the stage. A sharp, searing pain ripped through my abdomen. Then, a cold, terrifying wetness spread between my legs. “The bride! The bride is bleeding!” The whole place erupted in chaos. The wedding came to a screeching halt. My baby was gone. When I woke up, I hysterically accused Chloe. “She did it on purpose! Luke, she did it on purpose!” “She deliberately stepped on my dress!” … I screamed my accusations, but Chloe didn’t argue. She just cried and apologized. “It’s my fault, all my fault. I’m so sorry, Aubrey, I’m so sorry!” Chloe admitted her mistake, even dropping to her knees in my hospital room. She even sank to her knees on the hospital room floor. In that moment, all my hurt and anger were muted. It seemed if I didn’t forgive her, I would be the one at fault. Luke held me, his whispers a hollow comfort. “Don’t think about it, it’s over.” “We’re still young, we can have more.” “Chloe, she… she didn’t mean it.” That incident was too painful. So painful I’ve made myself forget how it even ended. Our wedding plans were shelved after that, and the subject never came up again. “Aubrey…” “It’s over.” Luke looked utterly heartbroken, his hand gently patting my back as if to offer comfort. My eyes stung. I blinked hard, then closed the door. “Luke, you’re here for the belt, right?” He had no time to answer. I turned and went to the storage room. In the corner, on a shelf, lay the belt, still in its packaging. I shoved it into his arms. “Take it. Check if there’s anything else you want. Just take it all.” “And don’t come back here.” Luke’s knuckles were pale, his face ashen. “Aubrey, I actually-” Ding-dong! The doorbell interrupted Luke. I stepped around the mess on the floor and opened the door. The cute guy from the massage place stood at my door, holding my jacket. “You left this.” One doorway, three people, a tangle of conflicting emotions. Luke’s breathing turned ragged, his fury burning like a wildfire.

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I was the ultimate simp. My bestie must have told me to dump Jake a hundred times. I never listened. When my boyfriend announced he was a business genius and decided to open an herbal burger joint with his girl best friend, Sam, I didn’t hesitate. I drained my savings for him. Then he claimed they were desperately short-staffed. I quit my $18,000-a-month job to work for free. Then I caught them. Jake said he was off for a “business meeting” with Sam. The business was her, naked in our bed. As I sobbed, Sam had the nerve to shrug. “Don’t overthink it, Chloe. Best friends can have super intense meetings under the covers. It’s all for you, so Jake can marry you!” Like an idiot, I almost believed her. Until the business went bankrupt, and Jake ran off with Sam and all the cash, leaving me with $700,000 in online loans. The debt collectors drove me to the roof’s edge. I jumped. Then I opened my eyes. I was back on the day Jake first pitched his brilliant business idea. My bestie Harper burst in, her eyes red. “Chloe, ‘love blindness’ is a real condition now. Insurance covers it.. You HAVE to get treated!”

“Harper, what are you talking about?” Jake stomped over, scowling. “Are you trying to sabotage my relationship with Chloe again?. Then he turned to me, his tone dripping with possession. “Chloe, I’m planning to open an herbal burger joint.I’m short on cash. Hand over your savings.” My love-blind self was already nodding, ready to agree. “No!” Harper cut in fiercely. “An ‘herbal burger joint’? Does that even sound like a real business? Chloe, do NOT give him your money! Come with me. Now!” Harper squeezed my hand so hard, I nearly cried ou. But when I met her tear-filled, red eyes, the truth slammed into me. Harper and I had both been reborn. The last time I saw that look in her eyes was right after I jumped. She had cradled my broken body, sobbing hysterically. And I, a mere wisp of a soul, could do nothing to wipe her tears away. My eyes instantly welled up too, and a sudden calm washed over me. I spoke to Jake, my voice stiff. “Jake, I suddenly don’t feel so good. I’m going to have Harper take me home to rest.” “I’ll figure out the money situation later.” Jake frowned, annoyed, and let out a dismissive “Tsk.” “Fine, whatever. Just send the money over as soon as you can.” I nodded, then pulled Harper and turned to leave. As we walked, Harper vented, shaking her head in frustration. “Chloe! Snap out of it!” “You just said you weren’t feeling well, and he didn’t even care! All he thought about was getting his hands on your money.” “Are you seriously going to keep being a ‘love-blind’ idiot for a guy like that?!” Once we were in the car, I urgently prompted her. “Harper, hurry! Let’s go to the hospital!” Harper’s eyes lit up. “Chloe, what did you say?!” I looked into her sparkling eyes, stating each word with serious intent. “You’re right. ‘Love-blindness’ is covered by insurance now. I’m going to get my brain fixed!”

Lying in the hospital operating room, the anesthesia needle slowly sent me into a hazy state. In my dream, I saw the debt collectors from my past life again. Last time, Jake used my phone to take out $700,000 in online loans. After the herbal burger joint went bust, he just ran off with Sam. He left me with nothing but a huge mess and those $700,000 in debts. Several tall, mean-looking guys with tattooed arms blocked my front door, yelling and banging, their mouths spewing obscenities. “You damn bitch, pay up now!” “No money? Then go sell yourself! If you don’t pay, we’ll drag you off and sell you to traffickers!” I huddled in my room, trembling and crying, calling Jake. “Jake, please, pay me back…” Jake just coldly replied, “You’re the one who owes the money, not me. Figure it out yourself. Don’t bother me.” From his end of the call, I heard Sam’s voice, sickly sweet yet trying to sound tough. “Ugh, women are so annoying with all their crying.” “Jake, forget her. Come on, have a drink with Daddy!” The next second, the call was cut, leaving only the endless “beep, beep, beep” of a busy signal. In the silent darkness, I curled up in the corner of my room, shaking and in tears. The banging and shouting from outside were terribly loud and terrifying. The scene shifted. My dream moved to the rooftop. I stood at the edge, dialing Jake’s number one last time. “Jake, I’m dying. The debt collectors are killing me…” What came through the receiver, though, was the sound of heavy, breathless panting, enough to make anyone blush. Jake was gasping, his voice hoarse but brutal. “If you’re going to die, just do it. You don’t need to tell me.” Sam’s voice echoed with an ambiguous laugh, a teasing purr. “Women are so annoying, Jake. Just block her.” The call was disconnected again. When I tried calling back, Jake had actually blocked me. In that moment, my heart turned to ash. I leaped, falling from the rooftop onto the hard concrete below. Bright red blood stained the ground. It hurt so much, truly agonizing… “No! Stop!” I jolted upright, my eyes filled with regret and terror. Harper, sitting by my bed, immediately grabbed my hand. She gently patted my back, soothing me. “Chloe, don’t be scared. The surgery is over.” “Your ‘love-blindness’ has been cured.” Two days later, I was discharged, completely recovered. After my insurance covered it, the whole thing cost me less than $500. And my love for Jake? It was completely wiped clean. This time, I was going to make them pay tenfold for all the pain they’d inflicted on me! My phone suddenly rang. It was Jake. He impatiently demanded, “Chloe, why haven’t you sent me the money for the shop yet?!” “I need to pay the store’s deposit! Hurry up and send me the money!”

After hanging up, I went straight to the bank. I locked all my savings into a long-term CD and canceled all my credit cards. Then I changed my phone password to stop Jake from taking out more loans. Only then did I go to inspect Jake’s chosen location. I stared at the three-story building. My unpaid workplace for six months. And I laughed. It was sandwiched between a McDonald’s and a KFC. A Burger King stood directly across the street. And Jake wanted to open his “herbal burger” joint here, under siege by fast-food giants. The very idea turned my stomach. Who would ever eat that? But the biggest fool was my past self who funded it. Not this time. I put on a troubled face and fidgeted. “Jake, my parents locked my savings in a long term CD,” I said. “And I maxed out all my credit cards last month. I cannot get any money right now.” Seeing Jake frown and ready to explode, I cut in quickly. “Jake, you said you saved $28,000 for our wedding. Why not use that? When we marry, I won’t ask for a single dollar. Consider it my investment in your startup.” His frown deepened, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. I smirked inside. That wedding fund was a fantasy, an empty promise he never meant to keep. I didn’t press him, instead shifting gears with a tone of innocent concern. “But… your herbal burgers don’t sound very appetizing. Will people actually eat them?” The moment I questioned him, Jake’s annoyance flared. “This is a project Sam and I researched personally! It perfectly merges health consciousness with modern food trends!” “What the hell do you know? Just keep quiet if you don’t understand!” Sam chimed in from the side, “Ugh, women just have such a narrow view, no vision at all.” “Our herbal burger joint is entering a completely blank market right now. There’s so much money to be made!” I wanted to burst out laughing. Seriously, Sam? Have you ever stopped to think why the market is blank? It’s because this garbage won’t make any money! But Sam was still lost in her self-proclaimed brilliant vision. She slapped Jake on the butt, winking and grinning. “Jake, Daddy here has found us the ultimate path to riches! We’re going for it, even if we have to take out loans!” “We’ll take over this whole three-story building! Herbal burgers on the first floor, boba tea on the second, and a trendy rooftop patio for Instagram on the third! It’s going to be an instant hit the moment we open!” Last time, they did exactly the same thing. Before they even opened, they blew nearly $100,000 on renovations for all three floors. But after opening, nobody bought the herbal burgers, and the generic tea shop on the second floor was completely ignored. As for the trendy rooftop patio? Only mosquitoes and flies ever ‘checked in’ there. In my previous life, I tried to convince them not to invest so much money all at once, to just try one floor first. But then I was called timid and lacking vision. This time, I mentally gave Sam a huge thumbs-up! Go for it! Take out massive loans! You two deserve to experience what it’s like to be hounded by debt collectors, driven to despair. But on my face, I maintained a worried expression, deliberately questioning, “Can that really work? What if your judgment is wrong and you lose everything?!” Sure enough, Jake, who couldn’t handle even the slightest challenge, got even more hyped up. “What the hell do you know?! Sam and I picked this project! How could we lose money?” “We’re listening to Sam! We’re taking all three floors and making it a huge, bustling success!” They exchanged a sweet glance, lost in their delusional dreams of getting rich. Watching their public display of affection, in my previous life, I would have been consumed by jealousy and self-doubt. Now, I just felt utterly disgusted.

I was about to make an excuse to leave when Jake dropped another task on me. “Chloe, you’re an interior designer. The design and renovation are all on you.” Memories of my past life flooded back-a brutal experience that would make a slave driver wince. Sam was impossible. She wanted American style one day, vintage the next, then industrial. She bombarded me with hundreds of photos but never gave a clear direction. “Just show me what you come up with,” was all she said. My designs changed constantly, shifting styles, sometimes reverting to the first draft. She made impossible demands, like asking for “a colorful black,” just to mess with me. I went back and forth 99 times before she finally approved one. When Jake found out, he patted Sam’s shoulder sympathetically. “Poor Sam, you worked so hard. It’s Chloe’s fault for being so incompetent.” The memory makes my blood boil. But not this time. I’m done playing. Let’s see what masterpiece Sam can create without her free, devoted labor! So, I put on my troubled face again. “I sprained my hand a couple of days ago. The doctor said I need a lot of rest, so I can’t draw any designs for at least two months.” Jake raised his voice, agitated. “Two months?! We can’t wait that long!” “Why did you have to sprain your hand at such a bad time?” I put on a hurt and regretful expression, looking down, but in my head, I’d already cursed that selfish jerk eight hundred times. Sam, looking completely confident, spoke up. “Forget it, I don’t think she’d design anything good anyway.” “I’ll handle the design and renovation. I’ll make it so dazzling it’ll blind you all!” A few months later, Sam’s renovation finally blindsided me. She had spent nearly $200,000. The result was pure apocalyptic junkyard chic. It looked like she’d just dumped a bunch of hideous, eye-sore second-hand furniture into a bare concrete shell. That was it? Any customer walking in would probably burst into tears from the ugliness. But Sam proudly declared, “Look at my design style! Isn’t it super cool? Super badass?” Jake’s expression was a little complicated. He awkwardly glanced around a few times before finally managing to squeeze out, “It definitely… has style…”

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Three days before my wedding to Ashton, I walked in on him cheating with his secretary. They were right there, in our new bed. For twenty years, I’d never seen him break. Now, his hands trembled. Tears fell. He blamed the booze. Swore it would never happen again. But one look at Valerie told a different story. Her face, a mask of cool contempt, said this was a well-practiced routine. When my mother asked if I still intended to marry him, I let out a wet, broken laugh and nodded. “The wedding is on.” Only this marriage could save my father’s failing company. It was just disappointment. Love was long gone. It didn’t matter who I married anymore. My wedding day was a storm of chaos. I sat at my vanity, detached from it all. My father found me there. He led me to the ballroom doors, his hand trembling as he fought back tears. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. My heart clenched. I forced a faint smile. “Don’t be. Ashton… still cares for me. I’ll be happy.” He fell silent. His shoulders slumped in defeat. Finally, the grand doors swung open. Ashton waited, poised in a crisp white suit, a bouquet in his hands. Forcing a smile, I stepped forward. And the memories crashed over me. Our families, the Reynolds and the Bennetts,were once neighbors, equal. Ashton, three years my senior, had always watched over me. The day I took my first steps, he stood before me, holding my tiny hands, guiding me forward. At ten, he wiped milk from my lips, then stole a kiss. My face burned. I pushed him away, my lecture on personal space firm and swift. Ashton stared back, his eyes blazing with a possessive certainty. “What are you afraid of? I’m going to marry you someday.” The memory faded. My steps faltered, then stopped. Ashton came to me, holding the flowers. My father placed my hand in his, his voice a low, desperate plea. “Please, be good to my daughter.” Ashton’s eyes were red as he promised. “I will.” It was just like when I was eighteen, when he’d held my hand tight before our families, vowing to love only me, forever. Back then, I’d blushed, believing every word. I was full of hope for a loyal, unwavering love. Now, at twenty-three, I was finally marrying him, just as I’d always expected. Then the officiant’s voice cut through. “Do you take this man…? Then, the dam broke. All the sadness I’d held back came rushing out. I lost control. Tears streamed down my face. Ashton’s face blurred behind the veil of tears. For a terrible moment, I couldn’t even see who I was marrying. I just closed my eyes and a choked whisper escaped my lips. “I do.”

The wedding was over. We were home. He was drunk, the driver helping him onto the sofa. I wrung out a cloth and gently wiped the sweat from his forehead. He frowned, eyes suddenly opening. He stared at me for a moment, then pulled my hand to his, laughing softly. “I finally married you. Wifey… wifey? That sounds so good. Will you call me that too?” His possessiveness had always been overwhelming. Since we started dating at eighteen, he’d been eager for me to call him ‘husband.’ But I believed in acting the part and never gave in. Back then, he’d just shake his head with a helpless smile, ruffle my hair, and call me his ‘good girl.’ Now, meeting his expectant gaze, I just smiled and loosened his tie. “You’re drunk. Let me help you to bed.” Ashton’s grip on my hand tightened sharply, making me wince in pain. “Why won’t you say it? Just once! Call me ‘husband’!” I pressed my lips together, staring at him, utterly silent. Finally, Ashton closed his eyes. A wave of pure torment seemed to crash over him as he collapsed into frustration and rage. “Fine! I messed up, I know! Are you still angry, Chloe? Then why won’t you yell at me? We have twenty years, and this is the only thing I’ve ever done wrong! Just this one thing!” His voice was laced with desperation. As if I was the one who was guilty. The Reynolds family had invested poorly this year, and our company was teetering on the brink of collapse. Our previously equal standing with the Bennetts had suddenly plummeted. I even felt a pang of insecurity, feeling unworthy of Ashton. My father’s company had a massive funding gap. But then Ashton suddenly proposed at that very moment. “After we’re married, we’ll be truly family. Then it’ll be my duty to help your father, and you won’t have to worry anymore.” Ashton held me close, chuckling softly against my ear. “Besides, you were always meant to be mine, weren’t you?” That day, I sobbed uncontrollably, overwhelmed by a twisted mix of gratitude and relief. The greatest burden on my heart had been effortlessly lifted by this man, once again. A tidal wave of immense love enveloped me. I wanted to give him everything. I truly felt like the happiest person on earth. I hugged him back fiercely, vowing to love him for the rest of my life. With three days left until the wedding, I was a bundle of excitement and anxiety. I was sending him messages almost constantly. If he didn’t reply within half an hour, I’d get so anxious I’d want to cry. As a bride-to-be, I had been staying at my parents’ house during that time. One day, Ashton’s messages were delayed. I waited for a long time, and for some reason, I suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to visit the new home Ashton and I had bought. My mother drove me there. When I opened the front door, a shockingly high-pitched scream echoed from the bedroom. The sounds rose and fell, one after another, sickeningly familiar. One listen was all it took. I instantly went cold, my hands and feet numb. Instinctively, I pushed my stunned mother back outside. Step by step, I walked to the bedroom door. Ashton was thrusting like some primal beast, a disgusting grin plastered across his face. His sweat-soaked hair was slicked back, revealing those wild, captivating eyes. He was spewing vile, demeaning words I’d never heard from him before. Bitch. Whore. I stood there like a puppet, frozen. My purse slipped from my hand, hitting the floor with a soft clack. Every hope, every dream, shattered with that sound.

Ashton explained to me. He’d gotten drunk, and Valerie, his secretary, had brought him back to our new house. It was a drunken mistake. His eyes red, he swore to me. It was just this one time, he’d only made this one mistake. Under the massive shock. I inexplicably leaned forward, sniffing his breath. No alcohol smell. Instead, a pungent, indescribable scent. It felt utterly, sickeningly filthy. I gasped for air. My awareness and emotions clashed violently within me. I was in too much pain to even cry out loud. My life had always been smooth sailing, following every rule, every expectation. The biggest setback I’d ever faced was my father nearly going bankrupt. And even that problem had been effortlessly solved by Ashton. From my earliest memories to my first blush of love. This man was everywhere, inside and out. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to slap him hard. Then, stand tall. And with dignity, announce the cancellation of our wedding. But then I saw my mother’s anxious figure at the door. Reality slammed back into my mind. I forced a smile, stretching my stiff lips into a grotesque grimace. After that day, the wedding proceeded as planned. Ashton and I maintained a silent, unspoken facade of decency. Only I knew. Everything was different now. … Now, Ashton was still waiting for my answer. As if, if I just acknowledged his role as my husband. Everything could still be salvaged. I opened my mouth. But my throat seized up. Ashton sighed, standing up first. “Never mind. It’s late. Let’s just go to bed.” He took a step, then paused. Turning back, he looked at my hand gripping his jacket sleeve, a surprised joy spreading across his face. “.Wifey?” I managed a strained smile, my voice meek. “Husband.” Ashton’s face lit up. He turned back and hugged me tightly, pressing kisses all over my face. It wasn’t until my eyes met his, blazing with raw desire, that I suddenly clapped a hand over my mouth. A wave of nausea hit me.I clamped a hand over my mouth, gagging as I pushed him off. I pushed him away before stumbling to the bathroom to throw up until nothing was left. I never saw his expression darken in that instant. I never saw his fists clench.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “305925”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn