Category: English

  • Snow Covers Old Vows, A New Year Starts Silent

    1 The miscarriage taught me how to behave. I stopped asking when Nathan would be home. I didn’t question his vacations with my best friend. I didn’t even mind when he started playing dad to her son. Even now, as I found a handful of used condoms on the floor of his car, my expression didn’t change. I simply swept them into a trash bag. But that’s when Nathan slammed on the brakes, the screech of tires echoing the tension in his voice, which was stretched taut like a wire about to snap. “Sophia and I were together… in this car. And that’s all the reaction I get?” I nodded, my voice a calm, placid lake. “Passion is a hard thing to control. I get it.” I had finally become the reasonable wife Nathan always wanted. He just didn’t know that in the years I was unreasonable… I was also the one who truly loved him. … “Aria, you’ve changed,” Nathan’s voice trembled slightly. “The old you would never have been this… detached.” I watched the city lights blur past the window. “That was before I knew better.” “I don’t need you to know better!” he insisted. “You can fight with me, Aria. Like you used to.” A bitter smile touched my lips, and my gaze drifted to my own hand, to the little finger that never quite straightened out. A souvenir from the last time I’d slapped Sophia, when he’d thrown me to the ground and stomped on my hand. Seeing my silence, Nathan made a promise that felt both monumental and completely hollow. “Aria, after the holidays, I’ll end things with Sophia for good. We can start over.” A year ago, those words would have brought me to tears of relief. Now, they were just laughable. The car pulled into the driveway of the Hawthorne family estate. The moment I stepped inside, I saw Sophia in an apron, arranging platters on the dining table, playing the perfect lady of the house. Panic flashed in Nathan’s eyes. “I didn’t know she would be here…” “I invited her.” Nathan’s mother shot me a look sharp enough to cut glass. “It’s Christmas Eve. Try not to make a scene and embarrass everyone again.” It was a perfect echo of last year. Sophia, clinging to Nathan’s mother with one arm and Nathan with the other. At the dinner table, I had emptied my glass of red wine over her head. In response to Sophia’s sobs, Nathan hadn’t hesitated to throw a tureen of hot soup in my face. I subconsciously traced the faint scar on my temple and managed a small smile. “Then we should thank Sophia for her help.” If someone else wanted to play the part of the virtuous wife, I was more than happy to relax. I turned to grab a handful of nuts from a bowl, but Nathan grabbed my arm, his voice laced with disbelief. “Aria, you’re just going to let an outsider celebrate Christmas with our family?” I smiled and nodded, repeating the words he’d used last year. “Sophia’s a single mom. It’s tough. We can’t let them be all alone on Christmas, can we?” “She’s my best friend,” I added. “I don’t have a problem with it.” Just then, Sophia’s son, Max, came charging at me, ramming his head into my stomach. “You’re the bad lady! You can’t take my mommy’s place!” Sophia quickly covered his mouth. “He’s been watching too many cartoons. Don’t mind him.” But there wasn’t a shred of apology in her eyes. I stood perfectly still, a dull ache lingering where he’d hit me. There was nothing left in this world that could truly hurt me anymore. Except for the child I never got the chance to meet. Nathan and I had been the couple everyone envied in college. He knew my class schedule by heart, and my thermos was always full of hot coffee on cold mornings. I knew he’d forget to eat when he was absorbed in his lab work, so I always brought him his favorite barbecue ribs from the cafeteria. We talked about literature and macroeconomics; we were lovers and soulmates. The year we were meant to graduate, the Hawthorne Group was targeted by a rival and driven into bankruptcy. Nathan’s father, overwhelmed by creditors, jumped from his office window. Overnight, Nathan was forced to drop out of college and inherit a mountain of debt. When I found him, he was curled in the corner of a grimy apartment, with jagged cuts on his wrists, blood pooling on the floor. His father was gone, his mother was sick, and the debt had crushed him into a severe depression. I tried to get close, but he brandished a shard of glass, screaming at me to get out. The moment the glass bit into my shoulder, clarity seemed to return to his eyes. He dropped it and collapsed into my arms, sobbing like a lost child. If you’re not afraid of death, what is there to fear about living? I dropped out of college without telling my parents and stood by his side. For seven years, I pieced his shattered soul back together. We worked street stalls, delivered food, took any odd job we could find, and counted every penny together in the dead of night. The night we paid off the last of the debt, he proposed with a ring he’d fashioned from sea glass, polished for half a year. The band was rough, but it was the most precious thing I’d ever worn. At our wedding, he wept in front of everyone. “Aria, I swear I will never let you down.” Our marriage was blissful, with only one lingering sorrow: we couldn’t have a child. The years of hardship had taken a toll on our bodies, and getting pregnant was a difficult journey. The injections, the egg retrievals, the failures… the cold, aching hollowness in my belly after every trip to the clinic. That’s when Sophia showed up with her son. We’d known each other since childhood. Her father was a gambling addict, and her mother had run off when she was young. My parents took pity on her, bringing her into our home. We were raised like sisters, sharing everything, until we went our separate ways for college. I smiled and slipped the boy a fifty-dollar bill, teasing her, “When did you get married? You should have told me so I could get you a proper wedding gift.” Her eyes darted away. “Do you remember when I came to visit you in your junior year? When you and Nathan were renting that little place.” I nodded apologetically. “I’m so sorry about that. I know you were stuck in the apartment by yourself. The lab was so demanding, I never even got to show you around the city.” “One night,” she interrupted, her voice barely a whisper, “you didn’t come home.” “He thought I was you.” She pushed her son forward. “This is Nathan’s son.” I stood frozen, a roaring in my ears drowning out everything else. When Nathan found out, his first reaction was to slap Sophia across the face. Then he spent the entire night on the balcony, chain-smoking. The next morning, he held me, his eyes bloodshot. “Aria, I was drunk. I don’t remember a thing. I will never acknowledge that child.” The day the paternity test results came back, his mother was overjoyed, cuddling Max and beaming. Nathan, however, remained stone-faced. “The only children who will be part of the Hawthorne family are the ones Aria gives me.” Sophia wept, telling us how hard it had been raising a child alone, how she never would have come to us if she hadn’t been completely desperate. Nathan impatiently tossed a check at her and told her to disappear forever. Sophia took the check and left. Life seemed to return to normal. Nathan continued to accompany me to my fertility appointments, holding my hand during injections and wiping my tears after each failure. I slowly let my guard down. After all, Nathan hadn’t known what he was doing, and Sophia hadn’t pushed the issue. Three months later, the IVF treatment was finally a success. I was holding the positive report, my hands trembling as I dialed Nathan’s number, when I saw him across the bustling street. He was holding Max’s hand with one hand and had the other wrapped tightly around Sophia’s waist. He leaned down and kissed her, a gentle, lingering kiss. I stood rooted to the spot, the paper in my hand crinkling into a tight ball. I struggled to keep my voice steady. “Nathan, where are you?” His voice on the other end was rushed. “I’m in a meeting at the office. I’ll be home late to be with you.” “How did the test go? Was it successful?” It was. But I wished it wasn’t. My silence must have given him the wrong impression. He thought it had failed again. “It’s okay, Aria,” he soothed. “If it doesn’t happen, it doesn’t happen. We can be child-free. I’ll never blame you.” Across the street, Nathan ruffled Max’s hair while Sophia snuggled into his side. They looked like the perfect, happy family. A single tear hit the back of my hand. The pain was so sharp I couldn’t speak. I just watched them walk away until they disappeared from sight. When I got home, dazed, an expense report from the company’s finance department was waiting. A hundred thousand dollars was missing. When I pressed for an explanation, the accountant reluctantly admitted, “Mr. Hawthorne dropped sixty grand on a diamond ring at a charity auction for the new secretary, Ms. Cole, not to mention the new condo and car.” I sat in the study, staring at the report until late into the night. Finally, the lock clicked. Nathan came in, bringing a chill with him. “Why are you still up?” He tried to wrap his arms around me from behind, but I subtly moved away. “Are you angry?” He smiled, offering me a bouquet of roses. “The meeting ran late. I’m sorry.” But he’d forgotten to trim the thorns, and he’d forgotten I didn’t like roses. They were Sophia’s favorite. I turned the laptop screen toward him. His smile froze, but he tried to maintain his composure. “The company is investing in a new project. We needed some liquid assets.” “What kind of project requires dropping sixty grand on a ring at an auction?” Nathan’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Sometimes in business, you have to grease a few wheels…” “A condo and a car, too? All for greasing wheels? I had no idea Sophia was so well-connected.” “So you know.” The room fell into a dead silence. After a long moment, Nathan sighed. “Sophia and Max were living in a terrible little apartment. She had no job, no support. Max is still my son, Aria. I couldn’t just let him suffer. I’m doing this for the boy.” My face was a cold mask. “So you’re using company money to support them?” His expression darkened. “This company is mine. Hawthorne assets. I built it from the ground up, and I have the right to decide how its money is spent!” I looked at him, a complete stranger. “Nathan, do you remember who provided the initial capital when we first registered this company?” He froze. “I sold all the jewelry my parents gave me and added it to the money I’d saved from working three jobs.” “The company’s first major contract? I landed that by drinking with a client until my stomach bled.” “When we were on the verge of collapse, I mortgaged the house my grandfather left me to get us through.” “And now you say you built this company all by yourself?” Nathan’s face shifted through a spectrum of emotions before settling on a frustrated anger. “Yes, you contributed! But I gave you the title of Mrs. Hawthorne. Isn’t that enough? Sophia will never have that title. What’s wrong with me compensating her for that?” “Besides,” he added, his voice dripping with cruelty, “you can’t even get pregnant. Are you going to let the Hawthorne family line die with me?” The bruises from the hormone injections still ached. I laughed until tears streamed down my face. A sperm morphology rate of over 98% abnormal was the real reason we couldn’t conceive. I pulled off the sea glass ring he had made and smashed it on the floor. I sued Sophia, demanding she return every penny. I bought trending spots on social media, exposing her and ruining her reputation. Her few days of luxury were over before they began. She was fired and became a social pariah. She came to me with a knife to her throat, kneeling on the floor. “Aria, I’ll never try to take your place. Please, just leave my son and me alone.” She was sobbing hysterically, and the moment Nathan walked in, she dragged the blade across her neck. It wasn’t deep, but it looked terrifying. Nathan rushed over, slapped me hard across the face, and scooped her into his arms, racing to the hospital. When he returned, his eyes were full of weariness. “Let’s get a divorce, Aria. Not for Sophia. For Max. You’ve backed them into a corner. I have to give them a name.” I coldly tossed the ultrasound report at him. The law here states that a husband cannot divorce a pregnant wife. Why should my legitimate child be born without a father, while a mistress’s illegitimate son dances on my grave? Nathan stared at the grainy image, a flicker of joy crossing his face. He didn’t mention divorce again. He seemed to transform back into the caring husband I once knew. Until Sophia’s son was pushed from a third-story window. The first thing Max did when he woke up was point at me in front of the police. “It was Auntie Aria. She pushed me. She said if I was gone, Daddy would belong only to her.” The security camera on that floor had been tampered with. I was the only suspect. The police investigated but eventually dropped the case due to a lack of evidence. I hired the best lawyer to find the truth. But Nathan was convinced it was me. The day I was released from the station, he grabbed me by the throat, his eyes filled with icy hatred. “How could you hurt a child? You’re not even human!” I choked, struggling to breathe until I finally broke free. From that day on, Nathan stopped coming home at night. He said he was atoning for my sins. If I so much as touched Sophia, he would twist my arm. If I tried to tell my side of the story online, he held a press conference to spin his own narrative, painting me as the vindictive third wheel. Public opinion turned against me. Strangers online ripped me to shreds. My parents tried to defend me and were doxxed, then physically assaulted. After one of Sophia’s live streams, the brake lines on my parents’ car were cut. They were in a serious accident. At the hospital, I discovered Nathan had frozen all of my accounts. I found him at Sophia’s condo. The air was still thick with the heat of their lovemaking. “Max wants a little sister,” he said, as casually as if he were discussing the weather. A chill ran through me. “My parents are in the hospital. I need money.” “Apologize.” He was buttoning his shirt, not even looking at me. “Apologize to Sophia. Admit you pushed Max, and the money will be in your account immediately.” “Nathan, those are the people you called Mom and Dad for three years!” “Mom and Dad?” he scoffed. “They didn’t act like elders when they were feeding Sophia leftovers and treating her like a servant. If they hadn’t been so cruel to her, would she have been desperate enough to come to us in the first place?” He had swallowed every lie Sophia had told on her live stream. I thought of the countless bowls of soup my mother had simmered for him, the savings my father had secretly slipped him when he was starting his business. I remembered when we were children and my mother gave the new winter coat to Sophia, while I wore her hand-me-downs. As I gritted my teeth, preparing to bow my head to them, the hospital called with the worst possible news. The world spun. Sophia blocked the doorway. “You haven’t apologized. Don’t you want the money to save them?” I slapped her with all the strength I had left. Nathan retaliated for her, shoving me violently. My abdomen slammed into the corner of a cabinet. A searing pain, followed by a sudden, warm gush spreading down my legs. Nathan saw the blood pooling on the floor. His face went white. He scooped me up like a madman and raced to the hospital. The baby didn’t make it. When the light in the operating room went out, Nathan knelt by my bed, slapping his own face over and over. I stared at the blank white ceiling, as empty as the space that had suddenly opened up inside me. At the funeral, the grief was so immense I could barely stand, but I couldn’t shed a single tear. Nathan stayed by my side for a long time after that, avoiding Sophia completely. He tried to talk to me like we used to, but I would just sit in silence, saying nothing. Eventually, he started provoking me, flaunting his relationship with Sophia, but all I felt was a profound numbness. I think I had stopped loving Nathan. That’s when my lawyer handed me the investigation report. I read through the file, my fingertips growing cold. The truth was more shocking than I could have ever imagined. The largest sum of money that disappeared from the Hawthorne Group right before its collapse had been traced to an offshore account. The owner of that account was Sophia’s father. Tucked inside the file was another paternity test. Nathan’s ringing phone pulled me from my thoughts. He put it on speaker. A voice cut through the silent room. “Mr. Hawthorne, we managed to restore the security footage from the third floor. We have the entire incident with Max on video.” “Send it to me. And don’t call the police.” Nathan’s eyes were fixed on me as he spoke, completely missing the way the color drained from Sophia’s face. “Aria, it’s Christmas. I won’t hold this against you. Let’s just put the past behind us.” I could only find it pathetic. Even now, he was certain I had pushed Max. Sophia forced a smile. “Nathan, maybe we should just delete the video. There’s no need to dredge up the past and embarrass Aria.” Nathan actually hesitated, considering it. I placed my hand over his on the phone. “Nathan, I’d like to see the truth, too.” He looked at me, surprised, as if the thought of another possibility had never occurred to him. Sophia tried to stop us, but I silenced her with a single glare. “Don’t you want to know who really pushed your son?” His mother snorted and snatched the phone, pressing play. “My son may protect you, but I won’t!” On the screen, Max cowered in Sophia’s arms. “No, Mommy, I’m scared.” Sophia’s voice was a soft coo. “Don’t be afraid, sweetie. Just be brave this one time, and you’ll have a daddy forever.” When Max still refused, her face hardened. “You can have Uncle Nathan as your daddy, or I can send you to live with your grandfather. You choose.” Max started to cry. “I want Daddy Nathan! I don’t want to go to Grandpa’s!” He climbed onto the balcony railing, trembling, and then squeezed his eyes shut as Sophia pushed him off. She didn’t call for an ambulance. Instead, she picked up a nearby brick and smashed the camera. The phone slipped from his mother’s hand, thudding onto the carpet. “No…” Sophia’s voice was strangled. “That’s not real… it’s a deepfake…” Nathan’s voice was hoarse. “You pushed him.” “I’m his mother! How could I!” “Precisely because you are his mother,” I interjected softly. “You knew exactly how to push him so it wouldn’t be fatal. You knew how to make it look like an attack.” Sophia whipped her head toward me, her eyes filled with venom. “It was you! You paid someone to fake this video!” I laughed. “The only person who could commission the Hawthorne tech team to restore that footage is Nathan himself.” It was his handpicked team; they answered to no one else. Sophia’s lips began to tremble. She had no argument left. Nathan bent down, picked up the phone, and watched the video again, slowly, as if burning every frame into his memory. “Why?” he asked, the sound of something shattering in his voice. Sophia collapsed into a chair, curling into a small ball. After a moment, she looked up, a wretched smile on her face. “Because I was tired of it, Nathan! I was tired of hiding in the shadows, tired of my son calling you ‘uncle,’ tired of you always checking the clock, rushing to leave…” “So you gambled with your son’s life?” Nathan’s voice shook. “I never meant to hurt him!” she shrieked. “I knew there was grass below! I just wanted you to hate her, to finally be done with her! Everything I did was for us!” “Us?” Nathan cut her off, his expression turning to disgust for the first time. “There is no ‘us.’ There never was.” The words hit her like a physical blow, and the last of the color drained from her face. But we were just getting started. I pulled out the paternity test. “Sophia, is Max really Nathan’s son?” “What are you talking about! I had a paternity test done with Max. It proved he’s his father!” Nathan’s desire for a child was his greatest weakness. “What if the hair sample you submitted wasn’t Max’s? What if it was yours?” “What? That’s impossible! How could she have gotten my hair?” “She could,” I said, tossing a document onto the table. It was an employment record. For one month, just before she came to us, Sophia had worked as a shampoo girl at the salon Nathan frequented. Nathan’s fingers froze on the paper, the edges trembling. “March, two years ago… I did get my hair cut there. I even complained the new girl was too rough…” His eyes, red-rimmed, snapped to Sophia. “Max… he’s not my son?” I handed him the real DNA report. The probability of him being the father was 0.1%. His mother instinctively let go of Max’s shoulder. Nathan lunged forward, grabbing Sophia’s wrist with a force that made her cry out in pain. “You dared to lie to me? You told me he was my son… you made me raise another man’s child!” “I just wanted him to have a father! Is that so wrong?” she screamed, hysterical. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through alone? Aria had everything—parents, love, a career! All I had was Max! I just wanted to give him a proper family!” “So you stole my hair, forged a report, and taught him to call me ‘Dad’?” Nathan’s voice was ice. “And to seal the deal, you pushed him off a three-story balcony?” He finally lost control, smashing the phone on the ground. “Sophia, how many other lies are there?!” Shards flew across the room. Max burst into terrified sobs. For the first time, his grandmother didn’t comfort him. Sophia scrambled to Nathan, grabbing at his pant leg. “But he calls you Daddy! He truly thinks of you as his father!” “Shut up!” Nathan kicked her hand away and turned to me. His eyes were wild with regret, shame, and a near-suicidal despair. “Aria…” He opened his mouth, but no more words came out. I watched him, my face a placid mask. “You wanted a child, so she gave you a ‘son.’ You needed to feel guilty, so she gave you a reason to atone. You wanted a tender escape from your marriage, so she played the part for you.” “Everything you protected, everything you cherished, everything you were willing to hurt me for…” I pulled the final, most devastating truth from my lawyer’s file. “From the very beginning, it was all just an elaborate scam.” The largest sum of money that disappeared from the Hawthorne Group right before its bankruptcy was traced to an account owned by Robert Cole. Nathan stared blankly at the document. “Robert Cole,” I explained, “is Sophia’s father.” His gaze locked on the name, as if trying to burn a hole through the paper. “Robert Cole…” he repeated, his voice raspy. “Sophia’s deadbeat, gambling-addict father?” “Yes.” I flipped to the next page, a copy of a bank transfer from a decade ago. “Three months before the collapse, the last major payment your father approved was an eighty-thousand-dollar contract for ‘Cole Construction Materials.’ The legal representative was Robert Cole.” “But those materials never arrived at the construction site,” I continued. “Here are the warehouse logs and the testimony from the project supervisor. And within twenty-four hours of receiving the payment, the money was wired to an overseas account.” Nathan was incredulous. “And my dad… he didn’t report it? Why wouldn’t he try to get the money back?” “Because he thought you had slept with an underage girl. Robert Cole used that to blackmail him. Of course, Sophia’s age was faked, but your father didn’t know that. To keep you out of jail, he absorbed the eighty-thousand-dollar loss. That, combined with the rival’s attack, was enough to break the company’s capital chain.” My voice was steady, but I had felt the same shock when I first learned the truth. Nathan staggered back into a chair. His mother was speechless. “Sophia,” Nathan said, slowly raising his head. “You climbed into my bed on purpose. You and your father conspired to destroy my family.” “Your father stole the money that could have saved my family, driving my dad to his death. And then you… you used that money to raise your own son, only to bring him back to me and try to bleed my family dry all over again.” He rose and walked toward her, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at him. “Tell me, when you were lying next to me, did you ever, for one second, picture my father falling from that building?” Sophia was trembling so hard she could barely speak. “I was forced to! My father never gave me a cent of that money! I didn’t get into college, I got a boyfriend at the factory, I got pregnant… My father threatened me! He said if I didn’t help him frame you, he’d make me get an abortion and kill my boyfriend! I had no choice!” “My boyfriend died in an accident later, and my dad still wouldn’t help me. I couldn’t support Max on my own, so I thought of you.” Outside, New Year’s fireworks bloomed in the sky, casting flickering shadows across the living room. Amidst the hollow celebration, Nathan slowly turned to face me. “When did you find out?” he asked. “Three months ago,” I answered truthfully. “While tracing Sophia’s finances, I noticed a regular monthly transfer to an overseas account. Following that trail led me to Robert Cole.” All this time, her father had still been blackmailing her, forcing her to drain Nathan’s resources for his gambling debts. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” “Would you have believed me?” I met his gaze. “Back when there was no proof, you wouldn’t even believe I didn’t push Max. How could you have believed a truth that implicated your own father’s death?” He had no answer. I took out the last document, my expression serene. “Nathan, I want a divorce.”

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  • The Hated Siren Boss Gets Claimed by the Kingpin

    I was the bottom-ranked Siren in the entire Survival Horror MMO, and universally known as the “Worst Boss Ever.” On the game forums, players tore me apart with vicious posts, calling me a delicate liability, brainless, and a total waste of a raid slot. Then the server announced the Soul-Bound Gauntlet—a limited-time Wedding Dungeon. The reward for the champion? Taking the final Boss home as their in-game spouse. I stood at the end of the aisle, certain no one would show up. But then the system alert flashed: [NOTICE: DUE TO MASSIVE MELEE COMBAT AT THE DUNGEON ENTRANCE, CASUALTIES ARE SEVERE. ENTRY IS NOW RESTRICTED TO THE TOP TEN RANKED PLAYERS ONLY!] My jaw dropped. Wait, what? Didn’t these people despise me? A new BOSS rating list had just launched on the game’s companion app. On the “Most Beloved Bosses” chart, I sat comfortably at the very bottom with a rock-bottom score of 0.1. Under that garishly red number, the user comments were brutal: “Avert your eyes! The Siren Gauntlet is a scam. Anyone who goes is a total fool.” The thread was trending ridiculously high. The echoes of agreement were a deafening chorus: “She looks like a Siren, sure, but does she act like one? Her level design is kindergarten-level weak.” “She just struts around in that tattered little skirt every day. Does she really think she’s that cute? I’m going to puke.” “To the user above: Puking didn’t stop you from buying her the limited-edition skin from the cash shop, did it? And she won’t even wear it! I’m furious.” “Don’t even get me started. Last time, I accidentally made her cry. Her tears made me panic, so I had to toss a few diamond packs at her to get her to stop. I’ve never seen an NPC with such fragile emotional armor.” “And you’re proud of being a button-mashing buffoon?” “Mind your own business. I saw your playtime is twenty thousand hours, all of it grinding the Siren Gauntlet. What are you stalling for?” A confused newbie popped in: “Is she really that bad? I wanted to see for myself.” Hundreds of replies instantly buried him: “Dude, no! Run!” “Heed the warning. Don’t get scammed. Plus, the entrance fee is ten thousand Void Credits (VC) per attempt. You’ll go broke!” Reading those comments, a knot twisted in my stomach. My iridescent tail drooped listlessly onto the floor. Everyone really hated me that much… No wonder no one had been farming my dungeon lately. I was barely scraping by for my next meal. More bafflingly, my dungeon’s entrance fee kept going up. I asked the System Guardian—the voice in my head I called the Sentinel AI—and it just said the price was adjusted based on market demand. I figured everyone hated me so much that the system was deliberately raising the price to keep people away. My nose stung. I wanted to cry, but I didn’t dare. If I cried, the aggressive players would just start a new thread calling me a drama queen. Based on the players’ “feedback,” I decided to turn over a new leaf. The Sentinel AI helpfully offered an idea: “They think seeing you right away is too easy. You need to add difficulty.” That made sense. Before, a lot of players would just stare at me when they entered. They wouldn’t look for clues, just stand there like dumb statues. The forums said my clear time was slow, but that was because when I attacked them, they wouldn’t fight back or even take damage. I’d cry out of frustration, which is what really slowed things down. If they weren’t getting scared, where was my dignity as a Horror Boss? The Sentinel AI pressed on: “Let’s add a massive maze. And at every major intersection, we’ll set up a toll booth. One hundred VC per pass.” I was stunned. “The entrance fee is already so expensive! Now internal purchases too? No one will come!” The Sentinel AI scoffed. “That’s where you’re wrong. Some people might just like that kind of high-maintenance treatment.” Half-believing, I added the maze and retreated to the exit to eat my snacks. These were all “player drops.” When I attacked them, they’d randomly drop all kinds of delicious food. I used to think it was loot, but now I was convinced they were just throwing junk food at me to try and fatten me up because they hated me. The chips in my mouth tasted of pure melancholy. Soon, the first wave of challengers entered. They scurried through the maze like headless chickens. To prove I wasn’t brainless, I’d used a master-level map that would normally take at least two days to solve. Through the wall, I could hear their curses. “What the hell is this broken maze! System, you jerk!” “It has to be the damned system misleading Penny! My sweet Penny is too pure to design this kind of nightmare trap!” Were they mocking me for being dumb and easily fooled? I was so upset I couldn’t swallow my potato chips. I threw the bag down and ran back to my inner sanctum. So I completely missed the later wails of despair from inside the maze: “Waaah! Give me back my Penny! Where is my wife!” “Scam game, pay-to-win trash! Give me back my soft, cute little Siren!” “Penny, look at your mommy! Mommy spent money! What? I spent ten thousand and I still can’t see her? That’s fine… I’m satisfied just breathing the same dungeon air as her…” “Customer service! I’ve put in ten million VC! Stop with the toll booths and just tell me where the exit is! I’ll pay any price!” I huddled under my duvet, sniffing as I asked the Sentinel AI, “Am I a total failure? Everyone hates me so much.” The Sentinel AI’s voice sounded strange, like a suppressed laugh mixed with a kind of twisted pleasure. “Not necessarily… Hate is more enduring than love. The fact that so many people are cursing you means you matter to them.” A new, encrypted thread quickly appeared on the forums. [Rational Discussion: Can Penny see the Player Forum?] “Probably not? Only the devs have that clearance.” “If she can’t see it, why did the dungeon change? She must have seen us dissing her!” “This is all your fault! Stop acting like she’s an annoying little sister! Now I’ve been stuck in the maze for three hours, all my money is gone, and I haven’t even seen a glimpse of Penny’s skirt!” “Serves your foul mouths right! You call her ‘ugly trash’ to her face but secretly buy more skins for her than anyone else! I hate you all!” “Something’s not right. No other BOSS has changed their level. Only Penny’s. This has to be the system doing something sketchy.” “I agree! The system sees how much VC Penny sucks up and is deliberately adding new features to steal money! This is outrageous!” “Does anyone remember when the Siren’s original setting was ‘hug-and-snuggle’? Now, getting her to even scratch us is a pipe dream!” I was reading this, completely lost, when the screen suddenly went black. “Stop looking at this garbage. It’s affecting your mood.” The Sentinel AI’s voice became serious. “Look at the other bosses. They’re all trying to hit quotas and impress the top-ranked players. And you? What good is staring at the haters’ comments?” I felt a surge of anger. “Is it my fault no one wants to come? My rating is so low, what high-level player would bother?” Normal players and high-level players were in two different spheres. Horror game NPCs all hoped for high-level players to visit; one visit could make a dungeon’s popularity skyrocket. But the true elites, looking to grind points, only went to high-risk, near-impossible hardcore dungeons. They wouldn’t look twice at my “tea party” difficulty level. Except for the top player—known only by the ID Damian Kage. He was the single exception, the eternal legend. I scrolled through the leaderboards. The names in the top spots shifted constantly, but the number one slot, Damian Kage, was an unmoving mountain. His preference was listed simply as: All Categories. I pointed at the second-ranked player and asked the Sentinel AI, “This Brock Jensen guy seems to be farming survival/resource escape raids lately. Should I try to mimic that style?” The Sentinel AI was silent for a few seconds. Its electronic tone carried a strange, definite displeasure. “Why are you focusing on the number two player? Is the number one player not worth your time?” Huh? I tilted my head. The top player was elusive, a literal ghost. While his score was always first, no one had heard of him entering a dungeon in ages. The Sentinel AI brutally finished its thought: “He’s been trying for so long and can’t surpass first place. Don’t you think that makes number two a loser?” The Sentinel AI was far too harsh. I’d be grateful for anyone to visit! I sighed glumly and packed up to attend the annual NPC mandatory meeting. The meeting was essentially a showcase for the top performers, designed to motivate (read: shame) the rest of us. The star this month was Sawyer ‘The Slasher’ Jack. He slammed his still-dripping chainsaw onto the table, instantly filling the room with the smell of blood. He sneered at me, sitting at the foot of the long table. “I have to say, Penny, you’re embarrassing us. Dropping from S-Class to C-Class, and you haven’t done any soul-searching? Look at me. I’ve climbed from C-Class to A-Class. I’m practically S-Class already…” Before he could finish, a flash of cold light shot through the air. A black surgical scalpel materialized, slicing precisely through the main artery in his neck. Sawyer clutched his spurting throat, letting out a hog-like shriek: “Who… who dares…” He looked up and saw the attacker. His face went white. He dropped to his knees, not even daring to cover his wound. “Forgive me, my Lady! My mouth is trash! I was out of line! Please, spare me!” The room fell into dead silence. Every NPC turned to stare at the other end of the long table. A woman in all black sat there. Her face was veiled by black chiffon; her clothes were somber, as if she’d just walked out of a massive funeral. She was The Countess of Ash, the personification of the Black Death, and one of the most terrifying entities in the game. Her voice, a grating rasp like an old vinyl record, cut through the silence. “What right do you have to critique him?” She slowly rose. The hand Sawyer was holding the chainsaw with suddenly seemed to be corrupted by an unseen digital plague. It dissolved instantly, falling to the floor in a puddle of black code. —He was ruined. He’d never be able to wield his chainsaw again. He was frantically slamming his head against the floor, begging for mercy, but The Countess didn’t even look at him. She walked to me, lifted her veil, revealing a face that was pale but exquisitely beautiful. Her black-gloved hand gently lifted my chin, and her cold lips kissed my fingertips. “Penny, my poor child. Where is your former glory?” I blinked in confusion. “My Lady, I’m just a normal Siren.” She shook her head, her eyes as deep as an ancient well. “No. You simply forgot.” “You were once the first, and only, Triple-S Class among us.” Before I could process what The Countess meant by “Triple-S Class,” a massive red warning window popped up in front of my face. [SYSTEM ERROR! ILLEGAL DATA INTRUSION DETECTED!] [FORCING DISCONNECT…] [CLEARING CACHE…] A burst of screeching static filled my ears. The Countess’s form instantly distorted into a tangle of corrupted code. She seemed to try to say something, but an invisible firewall slammed into her outstretched hand, pushing her away. “Don’t listen to that lunatic.” The Sentinel AI’s electronic voice was ice cold, carrying a sense of… exasperation? Then, the world went dark. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in my pink little bedroom. I was still clutching the unfinished bag of chips, but my mood had completely shifted. “Sentinel,” I asked cautiously. “Was that woman telling the truth? Was I really powerful before?” Silence. Dead silence. After a long moment, the Sentinel AI’s text slowly appeared on the screen, this time in a lazy, non-committal font: [She’s got a system virus; her brain is scrambled. Look at yourself—you can’t even unscrew a soda bottle cap. Triple-S Class? Dream on.] I looked down at my arms, thin as little reeds, and then at the nearby Coke bottle I hadn’t managed to open. Okay, the Sentinel AI was right. If I was Triple-S Class, the game was probably headed for bankruptcy. [Stop dwelling on useless things. Get ready.] The Sentinel AI suddenly changed the subject. [The Soul-Bound Gauntlet is about to begin. Due to your consistently poor performance, the system is forcing you to appear as the final Boss.] I dropped my chips in terror. “I’m not going! The players will tear me apart!” [Relax,] the Sentinel AI’s tone became layered with an odd significance. [No one will dare touch you this time.] … The Wedding Dungeon design was a total disaster. No gloomy castle, no bloody torture tools—just an overwhelming sea of red roses and a red carpet that stretched farther than I could see. I stood in the chapel at the end of the aisle, wearing the white wedding dress the system had forced upon me. Whoever designed it had made it ridiculously form-fitting, cinching the waist tightly, and the backless design made my shoulders feel perpetually chilled. I wanted to find somewhere to hide, but my feet were rooted to the spot. “Sentinel, I’m scared,” I whispered, tears welling up. “What if they come in and just hack me to pieces? I only have one hit point; one touch and I’m dead.” [Just watch.] The Sentinel AI offered only two words. Just then, the chapel doors burst open with a crash. I expected a horde of bloodthirsty players. Instead— There were people at the entrance, but the scene was utterly bizarre. The server’s second-ranked player, Brock ‘The Brute’ Jensen, the legendary killer, was now leaning on his greatsword, his face bruised and swollen, his armor shattered. The third-ranked player, Rylan Knox, the silent assassin, was clutching a broken arm, glaring viciously at Brock. The players ranked four through eight followed, all looking mangled and miserable. This wasn’t a wedding party. This was a crew that had just crawled out of a meat grinder! I started to tremble, my tail instinctively wrapping around my thigh. “See! They’re fighting each other just to kill me first!” I cried, shutting my eyes in despair. “They must be competing for the ‘First Kill Siren’ achievement! They want to chop me into pieces!” […Are you an idiot?] The Sentinel AI seemed to be laughing at me. [Listen closely to what they are saying.] I cautiously opened one eye. The burly Brock Jensen was pulling a bouquet of… crushed roses out of his broken armor? He limped up the red carpet, and his face—the one that could silence a crying baby—was flushed with a strange blush. “Penny…” His voice was a gravelly rasp, like a lump of coal was stuck in his throat. “Don’t be afraid. I cleaned up all the riff-raff at the entrance. No one will take… ahem, take the first kill from me.” See! He was definitely here to kill me!

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  • The Asthma Bride’s Revenge

    My husband’s childhood sweetheart, Bella, sent me a wedding gift. It was a box full of her cat’s fur. I didn’t know until I opened it. My asthma immediately flared up. We were out of medicine at home, so I called my husband, Ethan, who worked at a pharmacy, begging for help. He ignored Bella’s tantrums and delivered the medicine, saving my life. But the next day, he locked me in our bedroom with a dead cat and laughed as I screamed in agony. “If it weren’t for you, Bella wouldn’t have killed herself! You have to pay with your life!” It turned out that Bella, jealous that Ethan had left her to help me, jumped off a building with her pregnant cat. Ethan blamed me and wanted revenge. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my asthma flared up. This time, I called 911 immediately. Ethan ran to Bella without hesitation. But later, he regretted everything. 1 As the air was slowly sucked out of my lungs, the intense suffocation cleared my mind instantly. I opened my eyes. The next second, I threw the gift box in my hand as hard as I could. With a loud thud, cat fur floated into the air. I instinctively covered my nose and mouth, but my body erupted into violent coughs, twisting me into a painful knot. Nebulizer… I fell to the floor, my brain screaming for the medicine. But the familiar scene made me realize: I had been reborn. Ethan’s terrifying laughter from my past life echoed in my mind. I couldn’t stop shaking, gasping for air as I crawled towards the sofa. This time, I grabbed my phone and dialed 911 without hesitation. After giving my situation and address, and hearing the confirmation on the other end, I collapsed completely. As my consciousness faded, I banged my head against the floor to stay awake with the pain. Only when I saw figures in white coats did I let the darkness take me. When I opened my eyes again, the bright hospital lights made my eyes water. The suffocation in my chest was gone, and the smell of disinfectant, usually unpleasant, felt incredibly reassuring. “If you’re feeling okay, you can go pay the bill now.” After the nurse left, I threw off the blanket and walked out. Besides paying the bill, there was something I needed to confirm personally. Stopping in front of the hospital pharmacy, I called my husband, Ethan. He picked up quickly. “Honey, are you at the hospital?” “Yeah, I’m busy.” He hung up the next second, but right before the call ended, I heard a faint “meow.” And in the pharmacy window, there were different faces, but no Ethan. I let out a bitter laugh, my heart aching. Then, I felt a mocking gaze from afar. Walking closer to the window, I saw that Ethan was indeed absent. His colleague, Mark, was on duty. He glanced at me sideways while typing on his keyboard. “Picking up medicine?” I needed more nebulizer medicine for home anyway. Just as I was about to speak, he stopped typing and gave me a malicious smile. “Show me your medical record and prescription.” I gestured politely at the computer in front of him. “The hospital’s electronic system is synced. You can just check it there.” He acted like he didn’t hear me, not even glancing at the screen. “Sister-in-law, everyone else brings a slip. Why do you have to be special?” Then he opened his mouth in exaggerated surprise. “Oh, does your family own the hospital?” “I don’t have Ethan’s good temper. I won’t make exceptions for you.” 2 His voice was loud enough for everyone around to hear. People in line behind me started to grumble. “Just do what the doctor says! Why are you wasting time?” “Is she trying to get medicine without paying? That’s ridiculous!” … Hospitals are crowded places. Seeing a commotion, people started gathering around. Passersby stretched their necks to see what was happening. More and more people surrounded me, making the already stuffy air even thinner. My throat started to itch again. I coughed twice, but Mark looked at me with pure disdain. “What? You don’t follow the rules, you’re in the wrong, and now you’re pretending to be pitiful?” “Sister-in-law, save your energy. Ethan told me you love putting on a show.” As soon as he finished, I felt mocking gazes from all directions. Humiliated and suffocating, the feeling of despair almost overwhelmed me. “Give me the medicine… I need—” I leaned against the wall, gasping for air, looking at him, but he interrupted me. “Nice acting, but I’m not buying it!” I had felt this crushing despair in my last moments in my previous life. That day, my asthma flared up, and we were out of medicine. I called Ethan at the pharmacy immediately. When we were dating, he promised me after learning about my condition: “Xu Jie, I’ll be the person who brings you medicine the moment you need it.” He delivered the medicine as promised, saving my life. But his childhood friend, Bella, jumped off a building with her pregnant cat because he didn’t answer her call and didn’t arrive in time. He seemed fine, just helped his friend with her funeral and buried her cat. Respecting the dead, I didn’t tell him that Bella’s gift had caused my attack. After everything, he looked at me even more lovingly, bought a whole box of medicine, and scolded me gently to be more careful. I thought our marriage was finally on the right track. But the next morning, I woke up suffocating. I opened my eyes to find the dead cat in my arms, its fur stained with dried blood. I screamed and ran to the door, only to find it locked. I frantically opened the bottles of medicine he bought, but they were all empty. I wailed in despair on the floor, while his maniacal laughter came from outside. “If not for you, Bella wouldn’t have killed herself!” “We were together for so long and you were fine. Why did you have an attack right then? You did it on purpose to call me away when Bella and Kitty needed me most!” “Xu Jie, you have to pay with your life!” I used my last bit of strength to bang on the door, begging him to save me. Until I stopped breathing, he never opened the door. That’s when I realized how important Bella, his “little sister,” was to him. Before our wedding, he pushed aside all preparations to help her find an apartment and a job. Now, he pushed me into the abyss for her. I was too naive to think marriage would fix everything. To him, marriage and love could be given to two different people. When I came back to reality, my vision was blurry, and Mark’s face was doubling. “Please, give me the medicine.” I bowed down at the window, begging. The last thing I heard was a scream. “Someone fainted! Get a doctor!” 3 When I opened my eyes again, Mark’s face was right in front of me. This time, his eyes were full of worry and guilt, completely different from before. Seeing me awake, he started apologizing. “Sister-in-law, I’m so sorry! Ethan told me this morning you’d come to cause trouble, so I…” He slapped himself lightly. “I didn’t know you really had asthma!” I sat up and looked around. The culprit was still missing. Mark seemed to notice my gaze and quickly pulled out his phone. “Sister-in-law, don’t move. I’ll call Ethan!” While dialing, he muttered to himself. “Why isn’t he picking up…” He must have been rejected countless times while I was unconscious. And Ethan… He was probably enjoying his time with Bella, not wanting to be disturbed. I took a deep breath, but my chest still hurt. Surprisingly, I heard Ethan’s voice the next second. “What is it? I told you, just tell that bitch to get lost.” “Kitty just had kittens, and Bella and I are celebrating. Don’t ruin the mood!” Mark’s smile froze on his face. I coughed a few times, laughing at my own foolish hope. Mark leaned in anxiously, but I waved him off. Ethan’s voice got louder on the phone. “See? I told you she’s good at acting! She’s doing it again, isn’t she?” Then, a female voice spoke up. “Ethan, don’t be mad. Sister Xu Jie probably didn’t mean it…” Hearing that sweet voice reminded me of the box of cat fur. And the note inside: “Sister Xu Jie, I heard you have asthma? I just got a kitten.” “Ethan will be visiting me often, so he’ll smell like cats. I’m helping you get used to it.” Malice wrapped in sweetness. And now she was playing innocent. “Bella, you’re too kind.” Hearing Ethan’s voice soften with affection, my heart sank. Mark looked awkward, his hand frozen in the air. “Ethan, if you want to keep your job, come to the hospital right now.” Silence fell on the other end. Mark froze too. A moment later, Ethan’s angry voice exploded in the room. “Xu Jie, who do you think you are? What right do you have to say that?” Then, he hung up. Mark scratched his head awkwardly. “Sister-in-law, is there anything I can help with—” I interrupted him. “You and Ethan are from the same hometown, right? You grew up together?” He nodded. I beckoned him closer and whispered. “Do something for me…” Not long after Mark left the room. Ethan, who was just yelling on the phone, showed up with Bella, and… Two kittens in her arms. 4 I instinctively shrank back, shouting at the kittens: “Get out!” Ethan patted Bella’s back soothingly, his face turning stormy. “Xu Jie, you’re not going to die from that distance. Stop acting! Can’t you talk properly?” Of course, he thought I was faking it again, even though I was lying in a hospital bed. Maybe because in my past life, I never had an attack in front of him. He even joked privately: “Did you fake your medical records just to hit on me at the pharmacy?” I met him when I went to pick up medicine and fell in love at first sight. The one time I had an attack, it proved my condition but led to Bella’s suicide. So he believed I used my illness as a tool for attention. I covered my nose and mouth, suppressing my anger as Ethan walked closer with his arm around Bella’s waist. Suddenly, a nurse shouted: “What are you doing? Don’t you know the patient had two asthma attacks today?” They were “escorted” out by the nurse. When he returned, he was alone. It seemed his job was important enough to make him compromise. But he still looked impatient, chin raised, looking down at me. “You’re not dead yet, are you? You look like you’re about to kick the bucket.” Even though he was a few steps away, I still felt uneasy, worried about lingering cat dander on his clothes. I pinched my nose and pointed behind him. “Stand further back.” His patience ran out, and his face twisted in anger. “Xu Jie, what do you want?” “Come here, go away… are you playing with me?!” Seeing his rage gave me a strange sense of satisfaction. I chuckled. “No.” “I want you to kneel and beg for my forgiveness.” His jaw dropped, eyes bulging. He enunciated every word, fueled by fury. “Me? Kneel? To you?” “Why should I?” I replied calmly. “Because if I want, I can make you pack up and leave right now.” He stared at me for a long time, scanning me up and down, then burst into laughter. Shoulders shaking, bending over with laughter. Then, he looked at me with pure malice. “I think you’ve lost your mind.” I didn’t care, smiling as he walked away. I felt a little sorry for him. He personally threw away the only chance I gave him. I opened my contacts and dialed a number I hadn’t called in a long time.

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  • The Anniversary of Goodbye

    One week before the third anniversary of my brother’s death, my boyfriend, Caleb, promised he’d go with me to visit the grave. But on the day of, he ghosted me. That night, I finally got a text: “I had to go out of town for business.” I didn’t reply. I just silently folded my clothes and packed my bags. At midnight, Caleb’s ex-girlfriend, Sarah, posted an update on Instagram. The photo showed Caleb holding a birthday cake, looking at Sarah with a tenderness I hadn’t seen in years. The caption read: “Twenty-eighth birthday. It’s so good to be remembered by the one who loves you.” I didn’t call him in a rage like I used to. I just screenshotted Sarah’s post and saved it. Then I posted my own update: just three candle emojis. Caleb called me immediately, his voice tinged with guilt. “Don’t be mad, Chloe. I didn’t mean to forget your brother’s anniversary. I promise I’ll remember next time…” Three years ago, my brother took a knife for Caleb, saving his life. Now, Caleb had completely forgotten him, too busy drowning in his ex’s affection. Thinking of this, I spoke slowly, my eyes cold and desolate. “No need. There won’t be a next time.” 1 Caleb didn’t come home until a week later. Before he arrived, he texted me saying he was carsick and wanted my homemade meatballs. Usually, whenever he went on a business trip, I’d have everything ready before he even asked. But this time, I did nothing. When I didn’t reply or call, Caleb called me. “Chloe, where are you? Why aren’t you here?” I was cleaning out the study, tossing things into a box. “I’m busy. Take an Uber.” “Chloe, you always pick me up when I get back from a trip.” His voice was laced with annoyance. I gave a perfunctory reply. “I told you, I’m busy. Are you broke? I’ll Venmo you the fare.” He hung up on me. I walked to the kitchen, pushed down the rising tide of emotions, and started making lunch—for myself. I was mid-meal when Caleb dragged his massive suitcase through the door. He was sweating profusely, the calm, collected facade he usually wore completely gone. He dropped his luggage and went straight to the kitchen. “Are the meatballs ready?” Usually, knowing his stomach issues, I’d keep his food warm on the stove. He opened every pot. Empty. “Chloe, what is this? I told you I wanted meatballs.” “Are you that lazy now? Or do you just not care about me anymore?” In the past, I would have rushed to the kitchen to cook for him. Now, I just took a sip of my hot tea and said indifferently, “I’m tired. Order DoorDash.” Caleb walked over, pulled out the chair next to me, and sat down with a huff. “I know you’re mad because I missed your brother’s anniversary due to the business trip. But I really was busy and forgot. Can you just let me eat first? I’m exhausted.” He looked at me with weary, pleading eyes, as if I were a child throwing a tantrum. I finished my tea, stood up, and cleared my dishes. “I’m really not mad.” Caleb wouldn’t let it go. “Police work involves travel. It’s standard. I didn’t want to miss the anniversary, but work is work. I had no choice.” My tone remained flat. “Yeah, I understand.” Seeing my lack of reaction, Caleb deflated, slumping in his chair. “I’m already so tired. Why can’t you just be understanding for once?” “Okay. Go get some rest.” I replied in a lukewarm tone, looking at him like he was a stranger. Honestly, it was boring. It wasn’t a business trip. He went to celebrate his ex’s birthday. And here he was, lying to my face. If he had the guts to do it, why didn’t he have the guts to admit it? But I didn’t have the energy to puncture his pathetic lies. Caleb stared at me, a hint of impatience creeping into his eyes. “You’ve been wanting to see Hamilton for ages, right? I’ll take you tomorrow.” He crossed his arms, looking like he was bestowing a great favor upon me. I didn’t show the joy he expected. I just calmly declined. “No need.” If I hadn’t seen Sarah’s Instagram post this morning, maybe hearing him say this would have moved me to tears. Maybe I would have thrown myself into his arms. 2 Sarah’s post this morning was just a goofy photo of Caleb. The caption: “I mentioned wanting to see a musical forever ago. He said he’d check it out for me this time to see if it’s worth the hype. This man, always so thoughtful!” Caleb looked at me in shock, clearly not expecting my refusal. “No need?” “Why? Did you forget tomorrow is our six-year anniversary?” I acted like I just realized. “Oh, right. I totally forgot.” Caleb’s face darkened. He stood up and walked right up to me. “How could you forget our anniversary? Okay, stop with the attitude. Did you prepare a surprise for me?” I pretended to think. “I’ve been too busy lately, I really forgot. How about this—is there anything you want? I’ll buy it for you.” “Or I can just Zelle you the money. Buy whatever you like.” Caleb looked incredulous. “You’re asking me to buy my own anniversary gift?” He stared at me, a flash of astonishment in his eyes. For years, I had handmade every anniversary gift. Last year, he mentioned wanting a suit made by his girlfriend. I spent six months taking tailoring classes to design and sew a suit for him. The year before, he said he wanted to design our new house himself. I taught myself interior design and decorated the entire place according to his vision. Caleb stood there, looking dissatisfied. I didn’t know how to handle the awkwardness, so I grabbed my coat from the sofa and turned to leave. Caleb grabbed my arm. “Where are you going?” “I have a portrait session booked.” I shook off his hand and walked out the door, ignoring his angry shout behind me. I majored in Fine Arts. After graduation, I worked as a portrait artist. But after getting together with Caleb, he said he didn’t like me painting other people—it made him insecure. So I gave up the career I loved and switched to drawing webcomics. Now, I was finally going back to what I loved. After the session, the client looked at the portrait with satisfaction. “I’m so glad you’re back. We’ve been waiting for you.” “I’ll refer some friends to you. Talent like yours shouldn’t be wasted.” I smiled lightly. “Thanks, I appreciate it.” I picked up my phone and saw several missed calls. Some from Caleb, and some from my best friend, Quinn. I ignored Caleb and called Quinn back. “What’s up?” “Megan is back in town. We figured since the girls haven’t been together in ages, we should grab drinks tonight. Can you come? Will your guy let you?” “Sure. Send me the address.” After I started dating Caleb, he first cut off my male friends citing “family values,” then slowly isolated me from my girlfriends, saying he wanted all my time. Considering his busy schedule, I thought he had a point, so I drifted away from my friends. When I arrived, Quinn feigned shock. “Wow, a rare sighting! We actually got the great Chloe to grace us with her presence. Is your hubby gonna be mad?” I smiled and shook my head. “From now on, don’t worry about that. Call me anytime. I’ll be there.” 3 Drinking with my girls, I felt a buzz, my head spinning but my heart lighter than it had been in years. It was the first time I felt this relaxed since being with Caleb. I had devoted my entire being to taking care of him. I gave up my career, my friends, my self. I thought loving someone meant unconditional devotion. Now I realized I was just stupid. I checked my phone for the time and saw Caleb was still calling. I answered. A barrage of complaints poured out. “Where the hell are you in the middle of the night? Don’t you know I worry?” “I’ve been traveling for a week, I’m exhausted. Can you stop causing trouble? Can you stop making me worry?” “You… don’t have to worry.” My speech was slurred. The line went silent for a moment before Caleb’s angry voice cut through. “Have you been drinking?” “Send me the address. I’m coming to get you.” For a second, I felt a flicker of the old hope. Caleb coming to pick me up? But subconsciously, I didn’t want him there. I stayed silent. Quinn leaned into the phone. “Caleb! We’re at The Northern Light Bar.” I glared at her, but Caleb had already hung up. When he arrived, the girls were gone. They left thinking I was in good hands with my boyfriend. They looked at me with envy. But inside, I felt nothing but irritation. Caleb got out of the car, walked up to me, and looked at my drunken state with disdain. “Chloe, what are you doing? I explained I didn’t miss your brother’s anniversary on purpose. Are you done yet? Drinking yourself stupid just to get my attention?” “We’re adults. Playing games like this? Really?” Maybe it was the alcohol, but my mouth moved faster than my brain. “What business trip? I saw it. I saw everything.” “Caleb, am I easy to fool? Is this fun for you?” My head was spinning, my eyes full of pain as I looked at him. Panic flashed in Caleb’s eyes. He looked away unnaturally. “Sarah and I broke up years ago. We’re just friends now. Friends meet up. What’s the big deal?” “Besides, I’m your boyfriend now. You have no reason to be jealous of Sarah!” “You’re overthinking it. I… I’m not jealous.” Caleb turned back to me, anger rising in his voice. “Enough! Sarah and I are just friends. I just happened to celebrate her birthday! Stop being unreasonable! Since I got back, you haven’t asked if I’m tired once. You just throw tantrums!” “I have a temper too, Chloe! Don’t push it!” “Fine. Get in the car. Let’s go home!” I stumbled after him, staring at his back with sorrow. See? That was Caleb. Always twisting the truth, making everything my fault. We drove in silence. Caleb glanced at me several times, but said nothing, his face grim. 4 In the past, whenever we were alone, I would chatter endlessly, sharing every detail of my life. Now, I just wanted out of the car. When we arrived, Caleb followed me. Seeing me stumble, he sighed and reached out to hold me. I sidestepped him smoothly. Using the last of my sobriety, I walked into the house and went straight to the guest bedroom. I lay down before Caleb could react. He followed me in, annoyed. “Why are you sleeping in the guest room? Go back to the master.” I ignored him, turned over, and closed my eyes. Caleb stood by the bed for a long time, but eventually left without a word. My consciousness faded, and I fell into a heavy sleep. The next morning, I was surprised to see Caleb sitting at the dining table. “Up?” “Come eat breakfast!” His tone still carried a hint of anger, clearly still dissatisfied with me. This was the first time in six years he had made breakfast. Before, I would have been moved to tears and eaten every bite. Now, I glanced at the food and felt nauseous. I washed up, went to the fridge, grabbed a slice of toast, and ate it dry. Caleb’s face turned stormy. “Chloe, don’t cross the line!” “What did I do?” I looked at him innocently. When he didn’t speak, I didn’t try to soothe him. I changed my clothes and walked out. I went back to my alma mater. My old professor had contacted me recently about a teaching position at a university in Beijing. I had hesitated, dragging my feet on giving an answer. I thought Caleb and I were finally settling down after all these years. If I moved to Beijing, our relationship would suffer. But now, Caleb wasn’t part of my future. Painting and teaching were my passions. My brother once said I had a natural teacher’s aura. Now, I could pursue what I loved without guilt. My professor was thrilled. He patted my shoulder beaming. “Good! Finally! You agreed!” “But I heard you have a boyfriend of seven years. Is he okay with you moving to Beijing?” I smiled bitterly. “No. We broke up.” After leaving the campus, I went home to pack. As I opened the front door, I heard laughter. I walked in and saw Caleb hugging a woman, smiling brightly. It was Sarah. Clearly not expecting me home so early, Caleb pushed Sarah away, looking flustered. “Uh, Sarah just got into town for business.” “She doesn’t know anyone here, so I invited her over for lunch.” “We were just… hugging. Old friends reuniting.” “It’s fine. You don’t need to explain.” I acted understanding, my tone flat. Sarah greeted me with a smile, a glint of smugness in her eyes. “Chloe, nice to meet you. Caleb always says you have a great temper. I see it now.” I caught the double meaning but was too tired to engage. I smiled and walked toward the kitchen. “Sarah is here. Cook a few extra dishes. Show her your skills.” 5 Caleb stepped forward, acting casual. I poured myself a glass of water and drank it in one gulp. “Can’t today. I’m tired.” “I’ll order takeout for you guys.” Caleb’s face dropped. He glared at me silently. I knew this look. He was telling me he was angry, and if I didn’t obey, he would give me the silent treatment. Caleb was an expert at manipulating me. Before, at the slightest sign of his displeasure, I would fawn over him. But today, I just walked out of the kitchen. Passing Sarah, I smiled and said, “Make yourself at home.” “Caleb, is Chloe unhappy I’m here? Should I leave?” “Ignore her. It’s early menopause or something. She’s crazy. I’ll cook. You need to taste my cooking.” “Lucky me!” I went into the bedroom and started packing. I realized there wasn’t much to take. The closet was stuffed with Caleb’s clothes. Mine were squeezed into a tiny corner. The whole house was full of his things. I gave up on the suitcase. Caleb walked in, looking at the mess with disgust. “What drama are you staging now?” “Where’s the salt?” “Oh. We’re out.” “If we’re out, go buy some. Now.” I looked at him, confused. “Why me? I’m not eating.” For years, I managed everything in the house. He was used to ordering me around like a servant. Caleb looked ready to explode. He yelled, “Fine! Great job, Chloe! I give you an olive branch and you snap it! Let’s see who breaks first!” He stormed out before I could reply. I watched his back, helpless. Why was he always angry? Like I was the one who sinned. “Let’s go, Sarah! We’re eating out. I’m taking you to a bar!” Caleb grabbed Sarah and left, slamming the front door so hard the walls shook. I sat on the bed, perplexed. What was his game? I lay down and scrolled through my phone. A minute ago, Sarah had posted: “I think I’m the luckiest girl in the world. No matter when or where, he’s always there for me.” The comments were full of Caleb’s bros: “That’s real love!” “So jealous. It’s always been him. When do I get a love like this?” One of his friends tagged Caleb: “Did you dump Chloe? The ex is always better, right?” Caleb replied: “Life is good with you here.” To the tag, he just replied with a smirk emoji. His friends never liked me. I knew that. They always made snide comments about how great Sarah was, how perfect they were together. 6 Eventually, I asked Caleb why his friends kept bringing up another woman in front of me. He scolded me, saying they were just joking. Reading the comments, I did nothing. I turned off my phone and went to sleep. Caleb came back with Sarah. She told me, “Caleb drank too much. His stomach hurts. Make him some honey water.” As she turned to leave, she added, “Make sure it’s not too sweet. Caleb hates sweet things.” Caleb woke up, looking at Sarah with pure affection. “Sarah, you remembered.” I watched them, their eyes locked. “So, should I give you guys the room? I can sleep in the guest room?” They both froze. Sarah looked at Caleb, then turned and left. After she was gone, Caleb sat up, glaring at me. “Chloe, what is your problem? Your boyfriend is out drinking with another woman and you don’t even call?” “My friends’ girlfriends pick them up. You? You don’t even check on me?” “Chloe, is this how you love me?” He was tearing up. “Your friends don’t like me. Why would I go there to be humiliated?” “Besides, you had your good friend Sarah. She brought you back. What was there to worry about?” I leaned against the doorframe, genuinely confused about what he was mad about now. He used to stay out late all the time. I used to worry, calling him incessantly. He would hang up or block me. When I tried to pick him up, he humiliated me in front of his friends, saying I was suffocating him. Now that I let go, he accused me of not caring. I really didn’t understand what he wanted. Caleb looked at me in disbelief. “You’re okay with Sarah bringing me home?” I chuckled. “Why not? You’re best friends.” Caleb froze. He stared at me, then suddenly laughed. “Did you see Sarah’s post? You’re jealous, aren’t you?” “Come on, the post was just a Truth or Dare penalty. Don’t overthink it.” He smiled, looking relieved. “Sarah hasn’t been back in years. It’s natural I treat her. I planned to cook at home, but you didn’t buy salt, so we went out.” “Right. My fault.” “My fault for not breaking up with you sooner.” “Caleb, let’s break up.”

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  • My Fiancee Stole My House While I Was Away

    I walked out of the airport, jet-lagged after a month-long business trip, only to find a colossal, sparkling “Mr. & Mrs.” decal plastered across the front door of my condo. Outside the threshold, two pairs of men’s shoes—one expensive, one cheap and worn—sat like sentinels. I was reaching for my phone, sure I had the wrong floor, when the door swung open from the inside. Maddie’s younger brother, Brandon, was standing there, holding a trash bag. He looked perfectly calm, almost bored. “Oh, hey, Ryan. Back already?” He saw the question in my eyes. “Oh, yeah, about this,” he gestured vaguely at the gaudy decal. “Wedding was last week. They didn’t have a place, so Maddie—uh, your fiancée—said they could crash here. Just for a bit. You don’t mind, right?” 1 I stared at Brandon. He casually pulled the door shut behind him, not making any move to invite me inside, or even let me put down my carry-on. A slow-burning fuse lit inside my chest. I swallowed the fire. “You got married a week ago? I hadn’t heard anything from your sister.” Brandon scratched his head. “Yeah, well, you were out of the country, man. Maddie said there was no point telling you until you got back.” He then lifted his phone. “Oh, and by the way, don’t forget to Venmo the gift money. Maddie said you’re family now, so anything less than ten grand would be pretty cheap.” The elevator dinged down the hall. Brandon practically shoved himself toward it. “Gotta run, man. Meeting someone. Catch you later. Don’t forget the check.” As the polished steel doors slid shut, the full, absurd gravity of the situation hit me. They had commandeered my home. Where was I supposed to live? I walked to the door, my heart pounding in my ears, and typed in my old security code. ACCESS DENIED. Of course. I was a fool. They had occupied my house; they had changed the locks. I kept my hand pressed to the cold steel of the door and dialed Maddie’s number. She answered on the third try, her voice sharp with irritation. “What is it?” “Maddie. Did you loan our engagement condo to your brother?” My voice was tight. “How could you do something this big without discussing it with me?” “And, since they’re in my house, where, exactly, am I supposed to be staying?” My rapid-fire questions were met with a minute of dead silence. Finally, she spoke, her tone defiant. “It needs discussion? Brandon’s my brother. He’ll be your brother-in-law. He needed a place for the wedding. What’s the big deal?” “And besides, you’ve been out of town. How was I supposed to tell you?” That was laughable. I’d been on a business trip, not in prison. We had video-chatted nearly every night, and not once had she mentioned Brandon’s wedding, let alone the notion of giving him the keys to the condo. “Look, stop making a fuss. Doesn’t your company have some temporary corporate apartment for you? Just stay there for a few days.” Before I could protest, she claimed she had a meeting and hung up, leaving me standing alone, amidst the discarded cardboard boxes and the mocking sparkle of the “Mr. & Mrs.” decal. 2 Maddie and I had been together for two years. I knew she had a younger brother. But she had always distanced herself from the archetype of the Brother-Martyr—the woman who drains herself financially and emotionally for an entitled sibling. She used to talk about how she couldn’t respect women like that—the ones who allowed their hard-earned money to disappear into a black hole of brotherly need. I’d never once worried she was that woman. Until now. I let out a bitter, exhausted laugh. This condo—my parents had bought it for me outright. I had spent the last year overseeing a forty-thousand-dollar renovation, pouring money into the absolute best, most modern finishes, all based on her exacting tastes. I remembered the tour we gave her friends when the renovation was finished, Maddie clutching my arm, eyes shining as she pointed and planned. “We’ll put a cozy reading nook here, with that velvet chaise, and an espresso bar over there. The third bedroom is going to be the perfect nursery one day.” I was happy, filled with a simple hope for our future. I never imagined that instead of planning our wedding, I’d be dealing with Maddie loaning out my property to her brother—and then expecting me to downgrade to a corporate extended stay. A shared, temporary apartment—a grim place only interns or people running from financial disaster ever used. I owned a gorgeous condo. Why the hell should I go sleep on a pull-out sofa somewhere else? I couldn’t take it anymore. I hailed a cab and headed straight to Maddie’s office, determined to wait for her to clock out. 3 My timing was perfect. I was barely out of the car when Maddie and a colleague emerged from the lobby, laughing brightly. The smile evaporated the moment she saw me. She strode up to me, her expression hardening into a frown. “What are you doing here? I thought you were exhausted from your trip. Why aren’t you at that corporate place unpacking?” I grabbed her arm and pulled her roughly toward an alcove by the building’s side entrance. “How could you loan my condo to your brother without my consent? It’s my name on the deed. He and his fiancée can’t afford a place? Fine. Tell his parents to buy one. Why is he living in mine?” Maddie yanked her arm back, her eyes wide and disbelieving. “Ryan! Do you hear yourself? He is my brother! He came to me, his sister, because he was in a bind, and of course I was going to help! It’s only temporary! It’s not like they’re keeping it, so why are you making such a scene? And why are you coming down to my office to yell at me?” Temporary loan? I laughed, a raw, humorless sound. “Did I say he could borrow it? Did I agree to loan it?” Maddie rolled her eyes, the sheer contempt on her face making my stomach clench. “It’s our engagement condo, Ryan. If I agree, that’s all that matters.” Her arrogance was staggering. The condo cost over half a million. My parents paid 100%. The renovation was forty thousand—I paid 100%. Maddie had contributed nothing but endless, expensive opinions. She had zero financial stake. On what basis did she believe she could make this decision for me? “Maddie, I don’t care what bind your brother is in. You have three days to get him and his new wife out of my condo. If they are not gone by then, I will call the police to have them removed.” “Ryan, are you insane? That’s my brother! Are you actually trying to sabotage his marriage?” “Do you even want to marry me?!” Hearing her furious roar, a strange, cold calm washed over me. The emotional storm faded into clear, logical certainty. This marriage, definitely, wasn’t happening. 4 It was the first time I had ever left a fight with Maddie—just turned my back and walked away while she was still yelling. I took a cab to a clean, mid-tier hotel near my office. This would have to do for a few nights. On the way, my phone was blowing up. Call after call from Maddie—I ignored them all. Then came the barrage of texts. [Ryan, are you seriously sick? He’s my brother! His fiancée said they had to have a place. Are you trying to make him homeless?] [Ryan, he’s my brother, and he’s your brother! What’s wrong with giving your own family a hand?] [We weren’t getting married for a while anyway! They’ll be out long before we ever set a date.] *[I put so much work into that place—the designs, the endless hours picking materials. How dare you say it’s only yours?] * [I knew you were cold, but this is a new low! If you try to remove my brother, we are over!] She also left several sixty-second voicemails. I didn’t listen to them. I put her on Do Not Disturb. I honestly didn’t understand. She had seemed normal for two years. A model partner. Why had she transformed into this irrational, entitled stranger the moment I left town? I finally collapsed onto the crisp hotel bed, the exhaustion of the trip and the confrontation hitting me at once. I was asleep instantly. It was a deep, quiet sleep that only ended when my alarm clock went off. I reached for my phone. 99+ messages. Over 100 missed calls. All from Maddie, her mother, and her father. The family siege was in full swing. As I was getting ready to start the day, another call came in. Brandon. I sighed, but answered. 5 A roar erupted from the speaker. “Ryan, what the hell is wrong with you? My sister lent me this place! It was her wedding gift from you! And now you’re trying to take it back?” “Why the rush? You and Maddie aren’t getting married for years! You have a massive income, man! Just get a rental! Are you seriously telling me you can’t afford a security deposit?” “My sister spent all that time and effort decorating that place! And you just walk in, claiming it’s yours? You have no shame! Maddie was blind to pick a guy like you!” “And don’t think you can threaten us with the cops. We’re not scared of you!” “I’m not moving out! You call the police, I dare you!” He hung up before I could utter a single word. I shook my head, setting the phone down. They truly believed they were entitled to stay. They would not move voluntarily. I showered and headed into the office. I met with my director and reviewed my successful trip. My boss was thrilled. “Great work, Ryan. Mr. Zhang is retiring next quarter. The position is yours. You’ll be the new Department Head.” I felt a surge of adrenaline, pushing the domestic drama out of my mind. My income was about to double. I nodded, suppressing a smile. A much-needed victory. I spent the next three days in a productive frenzy, working late and sleeping at the hotel. Maddie didn’t contact me again, nor did she show up. I knew why. In the past, no matter who was at fault, I was always the one who eventually gave in and apologized. She was the woman, after all. She had told me countless times that a man needed to coax and pamper a woman, regardless of the issue. Now I knew better. She wasn’t just “sensitive.” She was utterly shameless. 6 On the evening of the third day, I sent Maddie a single text. [The three days are up. I will be at the condo tomorrow to take possession. If your brother has not vacated the premises, do not blame me for the consequences.] The phone rang instantly. It was her. “Ryan, are you trying to ruin everything? I told you, he’s my brother! What’s wrong with him using our engagement condo for a little while?” “It’s only for two or three years! They’ll definitely give it back when we get married!” “Why can’t you just see reason? We aren’t rushing to the altar, and the condo is just sitting there empty. Why can’t we let him stay?” Empty? I was supposed to be living there! And the timeline was a complete reversal. I had told her the plan was to get married as soon as the twelve-month curing period for the renovations was complete. She had agreed. Now she was pushing it back three years? I was thirty-three, she was thirty. How long was she planning to drag this out? [I’m done discussing this. If the condo isn’t vacant tomorrow, face the consequences.] “Ryan, what the hell is your game? Are you seeing someone else? Is that why you’re picking a fight?” “I knew it! You suddenly start traveling for a month? You were probably shacking up with your little girlfriend!” “Listen to me, Ryan. If you broke up with me because you cheated, you have to walk away with nothing! This condo is mine!” My mind short-circuited. My native language was suddenly speechless surprise. I travel for work, therefore I’m cheating. And because I cheated, I have to forfeit the house my parents paid for. I felt a wave of gratitude wash over me. Thank God we hadn’t made it to the altar. My life would have been ruined. 7 I simply couldn’t continue the conversation. After a few more futile seconds, I hung up. Why hadn’t I seen this level of irrationality and self-serving entitlement before? The next morning, I checked out of the hotel and drove to my condo. The garish decal was still on the door. The two pairs of shoes were still outside. Clearly, they had dismissed my warning entirely. I knocked. No answer. They must have gone to work. I pulled out my phone and dialed the non-emergency police line. Two officers arrived quickly. I explained the situation: people were squatting in my property, they had changed the access code, and they refused to leave. I presented the officers with the deed to the condo, clearly showing my name as the sole owner. One officer frowned and called Brandon’s number. Brandon hung up, thinking it was a scammer. The officer then called Maddie’s mother. She sounded terrified when she heard the police on the line and arrived within minutes. When she saw me standing next to the two officers, she lunged, her face contorted with rage. “You ungrateful—! Your brother-in-law needed a place for his wedding! Why use the police? Haven’t you any shame?” I leaned in, meeting her glare. “Go ahead, hit me. Do it right here, in front of the officers. I’d love to have you spend the night in a holding cell.” She stomped her foot, defeated, and pulled out her phone to call Maddie. “Get over here now! Your husband is calling the police on your brother! If you don’t come, your brother and I are going to jail!” The call ended. The officer instructed her to open the door. Reluctantly, she entered the code. The door opened, and the sight inside made the blood drain from my face. 8 My custom-made, twelve-thousand-dollar Italian leather sectional was gone, replaced by a cheap, uncomfortable corduroy sofa. The expensive cashmere-blend throw I’d bought was swapped for a thin, polyester knock-off. The eight-thousand-dollar custom stone dining table was replaced by a flimsy wooden one. The high-end, ergonomically designed dining chairs were plastic stacking stools. As I walked further in, the rest of the condo was the same: the high-end robot vacuum, the expensive washer-dryer set, the smart refrigerator, the motorized bed, even the smart toilet—all replaced with the cheapest possible, off-brand alternatives. My temples throbbed. I pointed to the room, my voice shaking with cold fury as I looked at Maddie’s mother. “Where are the appliances and furniture I bought? The original ones?” Maddie’s mother avoided my eyes, muttering guiltily. “How should I know? You’re the one who bought them!” “Don’t lie!” I shouted, the sound echoing in the half-stripped condo. I remembered the renovation. I had suggested buying cheaper items because I was running low on cash after paying for the build-out. Maddie had insisted on the most expensive options, saying, “We’ve spent this much, what’s a little more? It has to be perfect.” But when I asked her to pitch in for the furniture, she’d scoffed, claiming it was tacky for a man to ask his fiancée to furnish a house that was solely in his name. I did it her way. Now, my entire condo had been stripped and replaced, and I hadn’t even spent a single night here. I turned to the police. “I want to press charges. The value of the items they removed and sold is easily over one hundred thousand dollars. They either return them immediately, or they pay me the equivalent value.” Maddie’s mother tried to grab my face again, but I backed away, two steps, out of reach. These people were immune to shame. Half an hour later, Maddie arrived, breathless. She saw me, saw the police, and her face immediately twisted in annoyance. “Ryan, how long are you going to keep this up? I told you, my brother is only using it temporarily. They’ll move out before the wedding.” I laughed, the sound cold and dangerous. “Oh, and when is that? When are we getting married?” Maddie held up five fingers, then hesitantly tucked two back. “Three years. We’ll get married in three years.” “Ryan, you’re in a serious career-building phase. You need to focus on your job, not on settling down. A man needs to prioritize his career!” I couldn’t believe her audacity. I was thirty-three, soon to be thirty-four. I had worked tirelessly, saving up a substantial sum before I even turned thirty. I had bought and renovated this house for our marriage. And now, she was saying I had to wait three more years—during which I would lend my property, rent-free, to her entitled family. Was I a complete idiot? 9 I looked at Maddie, immaculate in her work clothes, perfectly made up, and felt a profound sense of alienation. She was a stranger. She shifted under my cold stare. “Why are you looking at me like that?” “Maddie,” I said quietly, “I bought and renovated this house to get married.” She sighed, exasperated. “I said we’d get married! We’re just pushing the timeline back. Why are you so desperate to tie yourself down?” I was desperate. I craved stability. I was a traditional man at heart—I wanted a wife, kids, and a warm home. I worried that if I waited much longer, I might miss my chance. Seeing my silence, Maddie seemed to think she had won. She took a step back, folding her arms. “Fine! We’ll get married sooner, alright? But Brandon just got married, so this place is off-limits for his first few years.” “Here’s the deal. This condo stays Brandon’s for a while. You go tell your parents to buy another one for us. You can take out a mortgage; you have the income to handle the payments.” I actually burst out laughing. My parents buy another condo? Were they running a private mint? Maddie’s mother immediately jumped in. “Ryan, see? My daughter is compromising! Why are you still holding out?” “A house is just a thing. You can live anywhere! If your parents don’t have the money, they should borrow some!” “Also, remember the dowry we agreed on? Twenty-eight thousand dollars, plus you pay for the venue and all the liquor. We’ll discuss the ring later.” “If you agree to all this, call your parents now. Once you have a second condo for us, we can talk about a date.” The calculation, the naked greed on both their faces, made me nauseous. Even the police officer standing nearby shook his head. “Ma’am,” the officer interjected, “you’re asking your daughter’s fiancé to give up his home, and asking his parents to buy another one. Houses aren’t that easy to buy.” Maddie’s mother sniffed. “He wants to marry my daughter. Of course, it costs money! You don’t get a wife for free!” At that moment, Brandon returned. He saw the open door and the two officers, and he charged at me, landing a hard punch to my jaw. “You sick son of a—! You actually called the cops!” I fell back, stunned. The two officers immediately grabbed Brandon and pinned him to the wall. “Assaulting someone in front of officers! You’ve got nerve!” Brandon fought them, yelling obscenities at me. “Ryan, if you let my wife find out this isn’t my house, I will end you! This is my sister’s engagement house! What’s wrong with me staying here?” “What’s wrong,” I gasped, rubbing my jaw, “is that it’s my house. And my name is on the deed!” I glared at Brandon. “Where are the original electronics and furniture?” Brandon looked genuinely confused. “How would I know? When I moved in, it was all this stuff!” My eyes flicked to Maddie. She looked down instantly, avoiding my gaze. The confirmation I needed. She had insisted on the most expensive stuff, not because she loved it, but because she planned to flip it for profit the moment I left. I pointed at them both. “Officers, I am not accepting mediation. Brandon broke in, refuses to leave, and now he’s assaulted me.”

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  • The Debt of a Lifetime

    The year Brandon Pierce went bankrupt, he secretly bought two extra plane tickets. He took his business partner’s wife and daughter out of the country with him. Before turning off his phone, he made one last call to me. “Mia’s husband died because of me. I can’t just abandon them. “Give me ten years. Wait for me to come back and marry you.” Five years later, Brandon returned, having rebuilt his empire, covered in glory. Meanwhile, to save a two-dollar bus fare, I walked for an hour with our daughter on my back. I only saw him helping the woman everyone called his wife into a car. My daughter, face flushed from the sun, asked me with hope in her eyes: “Mommy, aren’t we going to say hi to Daddy?” I turned around and started walking back. “Mommy made a mistake. That man isn’t your daddy.” 1 I walked back the way we came, my body stiff, my daughter heavy on my back. My mind was filled with the image of Brandon protecting Mia and her daughter, looking so happy. It wasn’t until I heard a small gulp from my back that I realized. After walking for over an hour, she must be thirsty. I found a nearby convenience store, bought a bottle of water, and sat down to rest on the curb outside an ice cream shop. A sleek, understated black luxury car pulled up. Through the lowered window, a little girl’s whining voice drifted out. “Daddy, I want ice cream! Will you come buy it with me? Please?” The man in the car was working, but hearing her, he chuckled indulgently. He tossed his laptop aside without hesitation and got out of the car with his wife and daughter. I looked up and locked eyes with Brandon. He stopped. His body froze, and he didn’t take another step. Our reunion after five years wasn’t the joyful occasion we had once imagined. Right now, he had a beloved wife and daughter by his side. Naturally, he didn’t want to see me. Mia, standing next to him, noticed. She let go of his arm. She walked up to me. “Hannah? Is that really you? It’s been years… why do you look so… old?” Mia looked me over and secretly sighed in relief. Then, her eyes filled with undisguised smugness. I looked down as her pale, soft hands reached out. They grasped my rough, yellowed, sandpaper-like hands. For five years, she had been pampered by Brandon, looking ten years younger than her age. Clearly, she hadn’t suffered a day in her life. Unlike me. To pay off the debts Brandon left behind, I worked day and night. My body and soul had aged prematurely. I pulled my hand back, picked up the half-empty water bottle my daughter had been drinking from, and ignored her. Brandon stared at me for a long time. Seeing I was about to leave, he stepped forward and grabbed my wrist. His eyes were dark. He was so close I could hear his teeth grinding. “Hannah, where are you taking my daughter? “Even if you leave, my daughter stays.” But before I could speak, the spoiled little girl beside him pushed me angrily. “Daddy only has one daughter! Get lost, you annoying people!” Seeing me being bullied, Lily lunged forward. That little girl had been too protected by Brandon. Unlike Lily, who had been bullied by other kids since she was small. She didn’t know how to fight. In a few minutes, her face was scratched up. Mia cried and hugged her daughter, looking up at Brandon with teary eyes. Before I could react, his slap landed on my Lily’s face. 2 Lily held back her tears. She didn’t cry. Instead, she looked up and forced a smile at me. “Mommy, don’t cry. It doesn’t hurt.” Tears streamed down my face. My heart shattered into a million pieces. The more she smiled, the more I hated myself. Hated my incompetence. Hated that my Lily had a father like Brandon. Brandon’s hand froze in mid-air. His lips moved, looking a bit lost. “I… didn’t mean to.” Mia’s daughter’s sobbing seemed to encourage him. “You’ve spoiled Lily rotten. Hitting her sister like that? Who knows what trouble she’ll cause in the future.” But how could Brandon know? If my Lily wasn’t tough, she would get beaten up. She didn’t have a father around, and I was always working. She felt sorry for me. When she got bullied, she never told me. She just endured it. I touched Lily’s swollen face, head bowed in silence. The next second, I raised my hand and slapped Brandon hard, ten times in a row. Caught off guard, he stumbled. He glared at me coldly. But he let me keep hitting him. “Brandon, Lily is my daughter. You haven’t raised her for a single second in all these years. What right do you have to hit her? “They are your wife and daughter. Go discipline them. Don’t mistake us for your family.” Mia cried in distress, biting her lip as if she were the victim. “Hannah, I know you resent Brandon for not taking you with us back then. But he was already struggling to support us. How could he have the energy to care for you too? “You were with him for so long. Don’t you have any empathy for him?” Fighting back tears, she took out a tissue and gently wiped the blood from the corner of Brandon’s mouth. But Brandon, face dark, swatted her hand away. He picked up Lily and got into the car. I chased after him, but he shoved me into the car too. Before the car started, Mia stood outside, looking fragile, and cried out. Passersby stopped to watch. “Brandon, are you abandoning us?” “Daddy, I’m your Joy! Don’t leave Joy and Mommy!” After getting in, Mia sat next to me with her daughter. The little girl in her arms glared at Lily, whispering complaints: “Mommy, she stepped on my dress and got it dirty. It was a birthday gift from Daddy.” Mia scolded her gently, and she whined, calling for her daddy in the front seat. Brandon, sitting in the passenger seat, frowned but spoke gently. “When we get home, Daddy will buy you a hundred pretty dresses just like that one, okay?” The little girl cheered up instantly. Mia smiled charmingly at the man. “Brandon, don’t spoil her too much. This little thing is becoming lawless.” I turned and saw the envy in Lily’s eyes. I whispered: “Do you like dresses? Mommy will buy you one too.” Lily put her small hand in mine. It was warm. She shook her head sensibly. “Mommy, Lily doesn’t like them. Grandma Wang’s hand-me-downs are just fine.” Brandon turned his dark face toward us, anger evident in his voice. “Hannah, you let our daughter wear someone else’s old clothes? What kind of mother are you?” His words were full of blame. 3 I looked up at Brandon’s self-righteous accusation. I just wanted to laugh. Years ago, he sold our wedding house and secretly took his partner’s wife and daughter away. Just before boarding, he called me for less than thirty seconds. He said: “Mia’s husband died because of me. I can’t abandon them. “I swore to take care of them for life, no matter where we go. Hannah, you have to support me.” He didn’t give me a chance to speak. In the last second, he casually made a promise. “Give me ten years. Wait for me to come back and marry you.” After that day, he left no contact information. He just left his seven-months-pregnant fiancée behind. He let the debt collectors find me. Heavily pregnant, I faced them alone when they came knocking at midnight, smashing things and threatening me. For five years, just staying alive with my daughter was hard enough. Seeing me zone out, Brandon’s face grew colder. Lily protected me. Even though she was trembling, she glared at him with wide eyes. “Don’t yell at my mommy! You’re a bad man! Don’t bully Mommy!” Brandon looked at Lily’s increasingly swollen face, guilt flashing in his eyes. His voice softened. “Lily, I’m Daddy. Daddy is back.” Lily pouted and pointed at Mia and her daughter. “You’re not my daddy. My daddy only has me and Mommy. You already have them. “Mommy said Daddy loves me very much. But you hit me. You’re not my daddy.” I pulled my tear-streaked daughter into my arms and heard her sobbing. Silly Lily. For five years, she slept with Brandon’s photo under her pillow. How could she not recognize him? It was just that the father she had longed for already had another beloved daughter by his side. She was too disappointed, too heartbroken. The man froze for a moment. His eyes red, he wanted to explain, but opened his mouth and found nothing to say. Seeing Brandon’s pained expression, I only felt nausea. I couldn’t help but dry heave. He looked over, and I said calmly: “From now on, Lily is my daughter alone. She has nothing to do with you. “Please stop the car and let us out.” 4 Brandon didn’t speak, nor did he stop the car. The car drove straight into a beautiful, expensive-looking villa complex. Mia took her daughter and got out first. The girl skipped around the yard. Clearly, she was familiar with this place. “Mommy, my pool, my swing! They’re just like the pictures you showed me!” Mia smiled, glancing at me before speaking. “Your daddy had this designed specially for you. I didn’t do anything. Thank your daddy.” “Brandon, look how happy our daughter is. Staying up late to prepare this surprise was worth it.” Brandon stood awkwardly, his gaze falling on me and Lily. He felt a tearing pain in his chest. He told Mia to take the girl inside first, then walked over to the car. I glanced at him coldly. “Mr. Pierce, I’ve seen your happy family life. I won’t bother you again. Can you let us go back?” Brandon seemed hurt. He asked me in disbelief: “Hannah, what did you just call me? Do you hate me that much? “I really had no choice back then. If there was any other way, how could I have left you and our daughter behind?” But his “no choice” meant taking Mia and her daughter, cherishing and protecting them. I held on for so long, waiting for him. And what I got was him having a wife and daughter. Now, I was truly tired. “Just assume I still hate you. Don’t disturb us anymore.” I got out of the car with Lily. Brandon’s driver wouldn’t be kind enough to drive us back. The man grabbed my wrist again. This time, his grip was strong. As if he wanted to crush my bones. “Hannah, my guilt has limits. I know I wronged you, but I won’t let you do whatever you want in front of me. “Go back? Where are you going back to? This is your home too. I prepared rooms for you and Lily long ago.” In that moment, I just felt it was utterly absurd. Asking me to live under the same roof as the woman he called his wife. How could Brandon even think of that? He tried to drag me into the house. I couldn’t break free. Just then, Mia ran out of the house anxiously, her gaze landing on my wrist. Her expression paused. In an instant, she put on a fragile look. “Brandon! Joy just fell down the stairs! Come quick!” Brandon’s pupils shrank. He let go without hesitation. He flung his arm back, not noticing me behind him. I almost fell. Mia, walking behind him, smirked at me triumphantly. I ignored her, took Lily’s hand, and walked home.

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  • He Fell For My Soul And Married Her Lies

    Ten years after graduation, I was suddenly added to a new high school alumni group chat. The notifications were relentless. Everyone was buzzing about a tribute video they were piecing together—a wedding gift for Miles and Ivy. Someone noticed I’d joined and immediately tagged me with an assignment: “Oh, Nora! I heard you’re still back in our hometown. You should film the segments at the old high school campus! “It’ll be perfect for the montage. We need to relive the glory days of the school’s ultimate power couple.” I didn’t reply. Instead, I stared at the ring on my finger, a cold weight settling in my stomach. Miles and Ivy were getting married? Then who the hell was the man I was supposed to marry next month? 1 I stared at that message until the screen went dark. Because I didn’t respond immediately, the tags kept coming. I was the final piece of their puzzle, the “closer” for their grand romantic gesture. It was almost comical. From high school through college, I had been the silent stagehand in their sweeping epic. I thought I had finally stepped into the lead role of my own life, only to realize I was still just an uncredited extra. The group count showed fifty people. Our graduating class had fifty-two. The two missing people were the stars themselves. The former class president was practically vibrating with excitement in the chat: “Once we have everyone’s clips, we’ll have Miles and Ivy record their own vows. That makes fifty-two videos—one for every member of the class. It’s perfect. Remember, everyone, the clips have to be exactly fifty-two seconds long. We need that symmetry.” “God, that’s so romantic,” someone chimed in. “Makes me want to find a high school sweetheart of my own. Anyone looking for a second-chance romance?” “Shut up, Dave. You don’t have Miles’s looks or his brain. The man is a literal neuroscientist now. Go look in a mirror.” “True. They really were the King and Queen. The Golden Couple.” Someone finally asked the question I was screaming internally: “How do we even know they’re getting married? I haven’t seen a formal announcement.” “My wife told me,” the class president replied. “She was Ivy’s roommate when they were doing their post-grads abroad. Ivy talked about her and Miles all the time. Word is, Ivy just flew back into the States today, and Miles was the one who picked her up at the airport.” “My wife saw the invitation in Miles’s car. He went to pick up his first love with the wedding invites already printed. Can you imagine the romance of that?” “You wandered the world, but I stayed here, waiting to welcome you home.” Another message popped up: “Airport? Yeah, that was today. Look at Ivy’s Instagram.” He posted a screenshot. It was a photo of a glass of vintage red wine against a backdrop of city lights. The caption read: Coming home is easy when you’re the one waiting on the other side of the table. I felt a wave of nausea. I hit the “Mute Notifications” button and set my phone face down on the coffee table. 2 Miles didn’t get home until late. He looked startled to see me still sitting on the sofa, the living room bathed in the blue light of the TV. He walked over and pulled me into a hug, his coat still cold from the night air. “Hey, honey. Why aren’t you in bed?” I caught the faint, sophisticated scent of red wine. The Instagram photo flashed in my mind like a crime scene still. I couldn’t help it. I pulled away slightly, my brow furrowed. Miles noticed. He let out a weary sigh. “Do I smell like the bar? I grabbed a glass of wine with some colleagues. I’m going to go jump in the shower.” He practically bolted for the bathroom. Guilt in a man has a very specific velocity. Fifteen minutes later, he climbed into bed beside me. “Still awake? No beauty sleep tonight? Or are we thinking of something else?” In private, Miles was a different man than the reserved, brilliant professor the world saw. With me, he was usually warm, almost needy. It was how I had spent years convincing myself that I was enough. What did it matter if he’d had a legendary first love? I was the one in his bed. I was the one he’d asked to spend his life with. I pushed his hand away. He looked genuinely shocked. I almost never turned him down. I had been infatuated with him since the eleventh grade—a decade of pining, a college-era secret, and finally, the dream come true. He was the air I breathed. He reached over and clicked on the bedside lamp, studying my face. “What’s wrong? Did someone at the lab give you a hard time?” I forced a brittle smile. “My fiancé is the department head. Who would dare?” He ruffled my hair, satisfied that I wasn’t ill, and turned off the light. As soon as his breathing evened out into the steady rhythm of sleep, I reached for his phone. 3 I was still the pinned contact at the top of his messages. We’d set it that way the day we went official. But our last text thread was from a week ago. Miles was always “busy.” I’d learned not to clutter his day with my thoughts or the small details of my life because he never had the bandwidth to respond in real-time. Eventually, I just stopped sharing. If something was urgent, I called. If it wasn’t, I kept it to myself. Miles didn’t have many contacts. Most were work-related group chats. I scrolled down just an inch and saw a name that wasn’t a colleague. Ivy. I hesitated. Once you break the seal of trust, the monster inside you takes over. There was a voice note. Twenty-four seconds long. I didn’t want to hear her voice, so I hit the transcription button. The little loading icon spun for an eternity. Finally, the text appeared: Are you sure you aren’t just doing this to punish me? I couldn’t help myself. I put the phone to my ear and pressed play, the volume at a whisper. I heard muffled sobbing. Then the question, sharp and trembling. I played it over and over, trying to find a name for the hollow feeling opening up in my chest. I scrolled up, back through the months, until I found the beginning. The first message was from her: It’s been twelve years. Are you okay? Twelve years. I had watched them fall in love, watched them fight, watched them break up, and watched her move across the ocean without a backward glance. I thought twelve years was enough time for the ink to dry on that chapter. I thought my devotion, my warmth, and my presence had filled every crack she left behind. His first reply shattered that illusion: Everything is fine, except for the part where you aren’t here. He had sent that text the day after he proposed to me. 4 They didn’t talk constantly. Miles was, after all, a busy man. But he answered every single one of her messages. Sometimes an hour later, sometimes a day. It was like a long-running correspondence that never lost its signal. The frequency had picked up a week ago. Ivy had sent him her flight itinerary. She was landing at 7:00 PM tonight. What followed was a delicate dance of “will they, won’t they.” Ivy threw out bait; Miles didn’t always bite. Until yesterday. Ivy: Will I see you at the gate tomorrow night? Miles: It’s not a good idea. I don’t want Nora to be upset. Ivy: In my memory, Nora was always such a… gracious girl. You’ve been together for years; surely she won’t mind you greeting an old friend? Ivy: Besides, I’m joining your research team. Isn’t it a lead’s job to welcome new staff? If she can’t handle this, how are we supposed to work together every day? Miles had hesitated for hours. Then, at 5:00 PM today, he replied: Safe flight. See you at the airport. Five minutes after that, he had called me. “Hey, I have to pick up a new researcher at the airport tonight, so I won’t be home for dinner. Why don’t you go over to your parents’ place? And don’t eat anything cold—your period is starting soon, remember? Stay warm.” I remembered exactly where I was when he said that. I was walking to the parking garage, planning to drive across town to get that rotisserie duck he loved so much—the place with the hour-long line. Hearing his voice, his “concern” for my health… it had made me feel so cherished. I’d walked to my car with a smile, thinking about how lucky I was. I didn’t realize that his “concern” was just the padding he used to soften the blow of a lie. 5 Miles rolled over in his sleep and pulled me into his chest. “Your arms are so cold,” he murmured, half-awake. “Get under the covers.” The heat of his body felt like an insult. It made everything too real. Me, him, and the ghost that had finally taken on a physical form. He was up early the next morning. He had a guest lecture at a university a few towns over. Before leaving, he touched my forehead, checking for a fever. “It’s getting chilly out. Don’t be stubborn, wear a coat.” I nodded. Just then, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, gave me a quick, distracted kiss, and headed for the door. “Did you pick up your new researcher last night?” I asked, my voice flat. His back stiffened. He turned around, his expression a mask of “casual” curiosity. “Yeah. Caught her at the gate. We should have her over for dinner sometime once she settles in.” I forced a smile. “Maybe. You know I’m not great with strangers.” Miles lingered for a second. “She’s not exactly a stranger. Look, there’s something I need to talk to you about. I just have a crazy couple of days. Can we talk soon?” His phone buzzed again. He silenced it with a flick of his thumb, looking annoyed. “The day after tomorrow?” he pressed. “Tuesday night?” A thousand thoughts raced through my mind. What was the talk going to be? My first love is back, so we’re done? Or, My first love is back, so I need you to be okay with her being in my life every day? I wasn’t going to be the prey in this scenario. I wasn’t going to wait around for him to decide my fate. “If you want to talk,” I said, “it has to be tonight at eight. After that, don’t bother.” 6 Miles’s phone rang for the third time. He finally picked it up. “I’m coming down now. Give me a minute.” We worked at the same research institute. I knew everyone in his orbit. The institute provided him with a driver, a guy named Will who was the soul of discretion. Will never called three times in a row. I walked to the window. Will was standing by the black sedan, circling the car as if checking the tire pressure. But someone was already in the backseat. A woman, her head turned toward our apartment building. Miles walked out, opened the back door, and slid in beside her. As the car pulled away, I got a clear look at her face. Ivy. One look, and ten years vanished. To Miles, she was the “One That Got Away,” the eternal heartbeat. To me, she was the architect of the worst years of my life. She had transferred to our school junior year. She was sunlight and charisma. Within a week, she was everyone’s best friend. Except mine. I was going through a family tragedy then—my mother’s illness—and I had retreated into a shell. Ivy saw me in the corner and decided I was a project. She tried to “warm me up” with relentless, sunny intrusion. I was a teenage girl; I couldn’t hide my heart. Ivy realized I had a crush on Miles. When she asked, I confessed. I thought she was my friend. A week later, she started dating him. 7 The group chat was exploding again. Even on mute, the number of unread messages climbed into the hundreds. They were doing the “video relay” now. The class president and his wife had posted the first one. They were up north, and it was already snowing. They filmed themselves running through a field, laughing, and then stomping the names MILES + IVY into the fresh powder inside a giant heart. It was cheesy. It was sincere. It was exactly fifty-two seconds long. The comments were a chorus of clapping emojis. Everyone was eager to take the next “baton.” I didn’t get it. Why did they care so much? But they were like white phosphorus—once ignited, they couldn’t stop. By the second day, they were on the thirteenth video. People were sharing memories of the “Golden Couple” like they were sacred relics. “I remember when Ivy wrote that ten-thousand-word love letter. It was like thirty pages long. We were all floored.” “And Miles had it bound into a little book! He carried it everywhere. He even designed a custom cover for it.” “God, we’re all so nostalgic. Back then, they were just the hottest couple in school. Now, seeing that they’ve stayed true to each other after all these years? That’s the real dream.” “Seriously. I never got the sweet romance, or the epic drama, or the world-stopping love. How did one girl get it all in her first try?” Yeah. How did one girl get to experience the entire spectrum of human emotion before her twentieth birthday, while I was still trying to figure out how to be the protagonist of my own life? I didn’t know if I was the luckiest person in the world for having avoided that kind of drama, or the unluckiest for being the one left holding the bill.

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  • Love Ends in Old Dreams

    The day Asher woke from his coma, he insisted he’d been reborn. He told me that in another life, three years into our marriage, I would cheat on him with a college student. He said I would become so obsessed that I’d be willing to walk away with nothing, just to divorce him. So this time, he was getting ahead of it. He found a girl, set her up in an apartment on the other side of town. She had already given him a son and a daughter. I didn’t scream or throw a hysterical fit. I just waited until we were walking out of the courthouse, divorce papers in hand, and asked him quietly. “Asher, the person I supposedly became… did you have something to do with it?” He was silent for a long, long time. And just like that, I knew. Asher had betrayed me twice. 1 The day Asher turned cold, I had no idea what I’d done wrong. It was like a switch had been flipped. He stopped meeting my eyes. The gentle check-ins, the little gestures of affection, they all vanished. We’d only been married a month. He moved into the guest room without a word of discussion. The night he carried his pillow and blanket out of our bedroom, I sat on the edge of the bed, tears streaming down my face. “Asher, if you don’t love me, why did you marry me? If you want a divorce, just say it! We can go tomorrow!” Something I said must have snapped the last thread of his patience. He threw the bedding onto the floor. His hands clamped down on my shoulders, his voice a torrent of venom as he hurled the most vicious words imaginable at me. He said I was disgusting. Shameless. Completely unworthy of his love. The verbal assault left me reeling, stunned into silence. On pure instinct, my hands flew up, my freshly manicured nails raking across his cheek. Asher didn’t even flinch. He just gave me one long, dark look, then walked out, blood welling in the fresh scratches on his face, and drove away into the night. It wasn’t long before I heard the whispers from friends. Asher was keeping another woman, and he wasn’t even trying to hide it. Of course, I confronted them. I found her, dragged her to the ground, and lost myself in a blind rage. Asher just stood in the doorway, watching calmly. He didn’t intervene. He just watched me transform into the cliché I never thought I’d be: a screaming, unhinged shrew, driven mad by her husband’s infidelity. And he was driving me mad. I was losing my mind trying to understand. Why had he stopped loving me overnight? I wasn’t afraid of a divorce. All I wanted was a reason. And he finally gave me one, his face a mask of cold indifference as he tossed me out of their apartment. He said he was reborn. He said that three years from now, I would throw our marriage away for some college kid. The tears I’d been holding back started to fall again, hot and heavy. The excuse was so absurd, so insulting, that I refused to believe it. “Believe what you want, Seraphina. But this time, I’m the one who fell out of love first.” He was a man of his word. A month later, his new girl, Nicole, was pregnant. He told her to keep it. During that time, everyone I knew pleaded with me. If you can’t live like this, just leave him. But how could I? How could I let him divorce me without a real explanation, just so he could play happy families with his mistress and their child? No. As long as I refused to sign the papers, she would always be the other woman, and their child would always be illegitimate. I clung to that bitter thought, fueled by spite. I let my youth wither away, tangled in a toxic standoff with Asher for three long years. But in the end, it felt like I was the only one trapped in that marriage. In three years, he had two children. My stubbornness had become a joke. 2 Asher’s daughter had her one-month celebration party. Most of his family was there. I saw the photo of their perfect little family of four in the family group chat. Asher’s own parents had posted it. After three years, everyone understood that Asher and I were finished. A divorce was inevitable, so no one bothered to consider my feelings anymore. [Two kids in three years, a boy and a girl! Asher is so blessed!] [Little Ash Jr. is the spitting image of his dad as a boy. He’s going to be a real handful for his grandparents at the estate!] [It would be so much easier if Seraphina would just sign the papers. Then they could all move back here instead of all this hassle!] The house Asher and I had shared was in the same gated community as his parents’ estate, just a three-minute walk away. They were blaming me. Why couldn’t I just be gracious, step aside, and let Asher’s perfect family have their happily ever after? If this had been the old me, that thought would have been unthinkable. I would have dug my heels in deeper, ready to drag us all down into the abyss with me. But something inside me had shifted. That burning knot of spite I’d been holding in my chest for years suddenly unraveled. For the first time, I genuinely considered it. What if I did divorce him? How much could I ask for in the settlement? It would have to be a fortune. I wouldn’t settle for less. As I was lost in thought, the front door swung open. Asher stood there, reeking of alcohol, his eyes locked on me. They held an emotion I couldn’t decipher. “Does it hurt, Seraphina?” he slurred. “Watching me play house with another woman, building a family. Does it tear you apart?” I hadn’t expected him to come here. The only time he ever sought me out was after I’d made a scene with him and Nicole, and he’d come home to retaliate on her behalf. Other than that, he hadn’t willingly set foot in this house for a very long time. When I didn’t answer, he dropped the half-smoked cigarette from his fingers and pressed on, his voice raw. “Does it hurt?” A little, maybe. But not as much as he probably hoped. Three years is a long time. Long enough to get used to sleeping alone. Long enough to forget what it even feels like to have a husband. I shook my head, my voice surprisingly steady. “No, Asher. I don’t think I love you as much as I thought I did.” A flicker of genuine pain crossed his face. He looked down, and after a moment, a low, humorless laugh escaped his lips. “You’re lying.” He looked back up, his eyes dark. “You brought this on yourself, Seraphina. Because I once felt the same agony you’re supposed to be feeling right now.” 3 It seemed he’d only come back to say those few words. Without even taking off his shoes or stepping into the bedroom, he turned to leave. Just then, his phone rang. His body tensed. With his back still to me, he answered, putting it on speaker. He wanted me to hear. Nicole’s sweet, cloying voice filled the silent room. “Ash, where did you go? I just got out of the shower and you were gone.” Asher turned his head slightly, his gaze falling on me. A faint, cruel smirk played on his lips. “Just popped out to grab something, my little scatterbrain. You forgot we used up the last box.” My hand clenched into a fist. I had overestimated myself. Hearing that, a sharp pang of pain shot through my chest. He saw my reaction. The smirk widened, and his voice softened into a tender caress. “Be good. I’ll be right back.” After hanging up, he didn’t leave as promised. Instead, he walked slowly toward my bed. His long, elegant fingers closed around my chin, tilting my face up. He clearly expected to see tears. But my face was dry. I offered him a small, placid smile. “Asher, I don’t think I can cry over you anymore. Does that mean it’s really over? That whatever I felt for you is almost gone?” I wasn’t a fool. I knew, on some level, that everything he was doing was a form of revenge. Revenge for what this other, “reborn” version of me had supposedly done to him. I still didn’t buy the whole reincarnation story. But whether it was true or not, the only power he held over me was my love for him. And once that was gone, I had nothing left to fear. The smile on my face seemed to ignite something in him. His eyes turned bloodshot. He shoved me back against the mattress. Then he grabbed a pillow, his face contorted, and pressed it down over my face. “Don’t you dare smile,” he hissed, his voice cracking. “Don’t you dare. Who gave you the right to stop loving me? You sentence me to hell every single day, and you think you can just… stop loving me?” I never thought he would snap like that. I struggled, my lungs burning, until he finally came to his senses and pulled the pillow away. I gasped for air, ragged and desperate. Asher collapsed beside me, pulling me into a fierce embrace. His entire body was trembling uncontrollably. “Sera,” he whispered, his voice choked with something that sounded like despair. “If I forgave you… could we try again? Could you just be with me?” 4 That night, Asher tried to stay. He’d already taken off his pants. But I’d recovered enough to grab the toilet brush from the bathroom and chase him out of the house. And no, I didn’t take his talk of “starting over” seriously. I’m Seraphina. I don’t do recycling, especially not for trash like him. After he left, I called my lawyer and had him draw up divorce papers. I didn’t have a long list of conditions. Just one: an absolutely astronomical settlement fee. After all, if the love was gone, I’d be damned if I walked away without the money, too. As for Nicole, the mother of his two children, I knew there was little I could do. Those kids were her lifetime insurance policy. As long as she played her cards right, she had a very real chance of becoming the next Mrs. Blackwood. Initially, Asher’s parents hadn’t liked her. But faced with their grandchildren, they’d softened, gradually accepting the reality of the situation. It helped that Nicole wasn’t some girl he’d picked up in a bar. She had worked diligently at Blackwood Industries for two years. Her family background was clean, even if no one knew how she and Asher actually got together. The Blackwoods had come to terms with it. And so had I. I couldn’t spend another three years making myself miserable just to spite them. The next day, my friends invited me out shopping. They knew I’d been down and were trying to get me out of the house. I really hadn’t been anywhere in ages. I pulled a new dress out of the closet, one that had been collecting dust for years, and even put on a full face of makeup. But the moment I opened the front door, I found Nicole there with her two-year-old son. The little boy, wearing a pair of shiny black leather shoes, toddled behind his mother’s legs, peeking at me with curious eyes. My heart seized. I didn’t want it to hurt. But his face, a seven-tenths copy of Asher’s as a child, was a sharp, painful blow. Nicole’s face went pale, and she raised her voice theatrically. “What do you want? Seraphina, if you lay a hand on my son, I swear I’ll kill you.” If you’re so afraid of me, I thought, then don’t bring your child to my doorstep. Are you really not scared I’ll lose my temper and do something to him? I walked down the steps. I looked at this woman, dressed immaculately from head to toe, the woman Asher had cherished and protected for three years. I let out a cold snort. “Nicole, you don’t deserve to be a mother. You’re willing to use your own son as a pawn. I’ll give you this, you’re far more ruthless than I am.” She was using her own child as a tool, a bargaining chip, just to provoke me. But the worst was yet to come. As I walked past her, she shot me a triumphant smirk. Then, she gave the little boy a sharp, deliberate push. He stumbled, falling backward onto the pavement with a surprised cry. His small hands scraped against the concrete. A loud, piercing wail erupted from him. The sound brought Asher and his mother rushing out of the main house. 5 “Seraphina! What did you do to my grandson?” Asher’s mother charged toward me, her round frame surprisingly agile. I sidestepped, and the hand she’d swung at me met empty air. I wasn’t about to stand there and take a slap for something I didn’t do. She shot me a venomous glare before turning her attention to the boy, scooping her precious grandson up off the ground with coos of concern. Asher’s brow furrowed in displeasure as he stared at me. “He’s my son, Seraphina,” he said, his tone a low warning. “You have no right to touch him. If I find out this happens again, I won’t hesitate to repeat what happened last night. You hate me, don’t you? Fine. I’ll give you more reasons to.” This time, his words didn’t cause me any pain. Just a wave of nausea. I think I’m really, finally getting over him, I thought. I glanced at the security camera above the door and was about to pull out my phone when Nicole leaned into Asher’s chest, her voice trembling. “Asher, it wasn’t her fault. Ash Jr. just lost his balance and fell. Please don’t blame Ms. Vance. I know she doesn’t like me, but I’m sure she’s not so heartless that she’d hurt a two-year-old child. She wouldn’t have a reason to.” That sent Asher’s mother into another fury. “What do you mean she has no reason? She’s still hoping Asher will come back to her, isn’t she? If my grandchildren were out of the picture, her path would be clear!” Nicole buried her face deeper into Asher’s chest, her expression one of pure terror. “Oh my God, what should we do? Are my babies in danger?” Watching her pathetic, amateur acting, I felt the urge to drag her to the ground again. But a look at the little boy, whose sobs had quieted to whimpers, stopped me. Instead, I pulled out my phone, opened the security app, and rewound the footage. “I won’t be accused of something I didn’t do,” I said, holding the phone out. “See for yourself, Asher.” The video clearly showed the truth. When it was over, Asher’s face was a mask of regret. He reached a hand toward me, but I flinched away. His eyes reddened. He couldn’t believe I was so repulsed by his touch. His mother saw it too. With a strength I didn’t know she possessed, she spun around and delivered a resounding slap across Nicole’s face. “You little tramp! How dare you use my grandson like that! You try a stunt like this again, and I’ll have Asher throw you out on the street.” I put my phone away and took a deep breath. “Asher,” I said, my voice clear and final. “Let’s get a divorce.”

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  • The Dare That Caught a Tycoon

    The content of the Truth or Dare game on the variety show was to post a message on my social media: I like you, only visible to you. But, I posted it publicly for everyone to see. And I publicly replied instantly to messages from the opposite sex. The whole internet was waiting to see me, the famous entertainment industry “fish farmer” (someone who leads many people on), fail miserably. But unexpectedly. The cold movie emperor: [Do you want to ruin this family?] [Delete it quickly, I’ll pretend I didn’t see it, sis.] [Delete it now!] The top singer: [What did you see? Just tell me, I’ll bring it over immediately.] [Sister-in-law, delete the post quickly! My brother saw it, he’s lying flat!] The Beijing circle tycoon: [Not dating.] [If you really want to date, I can reluctantly agree.] [Let me make it clear first, if you want to date me, you must cut ties with everyone else.] [Hmm? Wasn’t I an instant reply?] [Why haven’t you replied yet?] [It’s okay if you don’t cut ties, I’m a traditional man, I must be the main husband, remember to bring that group of concubines to serve tea.] 1 I am a manipulative female star hated by the whole internet. The moment my name appears, it’s a storm of blood and rain. On Twitter, the comment section that appears. Most comments are [How many moms do you have? Trying to get clout like this?] [Did your sugar daddy not feed you enough? Fancying my brother? Didn’t you see him avoiding you like PTSD?] [Seeing my sister-in-law like this, the family probably feels relieved.] And so on, countless flame wars blocked by Twitter. I have no fans. They purely curse. I block them all. The cause is just that I got a bit close to some male stars in the circle. But most of them are my brother’s buddies. Asked by my brother to take care of me. That old cadre, often in the deep mountains and forests, doesn’t use the internet much. So he asked this group of people to take care of me. It’s just that I happened to be photographed a bit too much. Plus I was photographed visiting my brother on set. I tarnished the cold movie emperor in their hearts, plus the paparazzi said the movie emperor wasn’t dating. Netizens believed it without a doubt. So, I became a manipulative female star purely chasing clout. This time, to turn around my reputation, my agent stuffed me into the all-female variety show “Besties’ Wandering Guide”. Praying that this slow variety show with besties traveling, featuring female stars with super good reputations on the whole network, can save my non-existent reputation. 2 Four-person bestie party live travel variety show. Compared to the true besties variety stars Chloe and Joy. Chloe seems to like my impersonal old cadre brother Liam. Joy seems to be chasing my little follower singer Win. The other one is the famous girl-loving star Bella, who has CP chemistry with any female. Steady. Undoubtedly. This program is tailor-made to whitewash me! 3 With full expectations, I went straight to the program team’s site. Arriving at the cottage prepared by the program team. I saw the full warm arrangement. Sure enough, it’s an all-female variety show. Full of healing style. I was still admiring the beautiful scenery. I saw two beautiful ladies running towards me enthusiastically. Chloe and Joy. I had already opened my arms ready to welcome the two. Unexpectedly, they went straight past me and ran towards the back. Shining Bella. Goddess Bella, simple and clean attire, delicate and natural makeup, plus a very approachable smile. Whether she slays men is uncertain. Charming women is definitely certain. Netizens’ strict selection of versatile CP physique. Is authority. The barrage has already started mocking me: [Hahahahaha, look at that manipulative girl, she thought the bestie group came to welcome her, didn’t expect to be completely ignored!] [LMAO, sure enough, only in an all-female variety show can you see such a competitive woman fail.] [Luckily there are no men, otherwise we would have to feel sorry for this manipulative girl again.] [Ahhhhh! Such a good all-female variety show, why invite a manipulative girl?] [The program team is purely sick! But if there are more scenes like this, it’s not that I can’t accept the program team’s problem.] Seeing the barrage, I quickly explained for the bestie group. “Goddess Bella is so shining, I was stunned, it’s normal that they didn’t notice me.” Chloe and Joy turned their heads in disbelief upon hearing this, staring at me. The look was a bit strange. I gave them a reassuring look. I’m fine. Bella slightly curled the corners of her mouth, the smile seemed a bit meaningful, nodded slightly as a greeting. I rubbed my hands, carefully extended my hand to Bella. “Goddess Bella, hello, I’m your fan Fisher, you can call me Little Fish.” Bella smiled and extended her hand, “Hello.” The barrage started praising one and stepping on another again: [Heh~ Now knowing there are no men in this program, starting to curry favor with the most popular Goddess Bella?] [Still our Goddess Bella is the best, even knowing this woman is her brother’s dream girl, her attitude is so good.] [Sure enough, adjusting the sails to the wind, hasn’t even greeted the not-so-famous bestie group yet, right?] Goddess Bella’s brother? Who? I was a bit strange, but in my impression, there are almost no males named Huang (Bella’s surname in original context, kept consistent) I know. Otherwise, I couldn’t have just met the goddess now. I sighed. Sure enough, a disastrous start. This image, really… hard to reverse. Silently pushing the suitcase, following behind the trio. Remembering what my agent sister Jiang said: speak less, do more, be less infatuated, read more barrage. 4 Crossing the steps of the garden villa. While moving luggage. Chloe in front suddenly turned her head and said apologetically. “Little Fish, your luggage is too heavy, we seem unable to move it, you won’t blame us for not helping you carry luggage, right?” Just the tone was slightly strange. Lustful me, seeing a girl like this, quickly shook my head. “It’s okay, I can move it.” Joy and Chloe suddenly exchanged glances, I was a bit confused. The barrage seemed to scold me even more severely. [Hahahaha! Well done! Let her say the suitcase was too heavy to move when she leeched off Brother Liam’s heat last time!] [Now there are no men on the scene, naturally they don’t buy her act, her disguise is naturally torn off.] [Cool! Just this all-female variety show punishing the evil woman, cool!] I hesitated a bit. Huh? They are all kind ladies, how could they target me? Must be the barrage talking nonsense. However, last time visiting Liam on set, I brought things all ordered by my parents. A huge box, I definitely needed to sell some misery to get some living expenses from Liam. I haven’t had time to explain, the camera and everyone have moved indoors. I paused. Forget it. Traveling for so many days, there will always be a chance to mention it. 5 The ice-breaking game of variety shows is Truth or Dare, this simple and unpretentious little game. But it is indeed the fastest way to understand each other. There was still hot pot on the table. The game had already begun. The bottle on the table happened to turn to me. “Truth, or Dare?” I rolled up my sleeves, “Real woman, never play Truth.” Chloe and Joy looked at each other. I was a little scared. But pretended to be calm, what could happen? All are fragrant and soft little beauties, I won’t suffer a loss. A slightly expectant look appeared in my eyes. Joy spoke seriously, “Do you have a boyfriend or ambiguous object?” I hesitated, “Is this Truth? What does it have to do with Dare?” “We are worried that after playing this dare, your boyfriend will break up with you.” I sneered, “How is that possible? Men are just stumbling blocks on my road to becoming a god!” A trace of appreciation flashed across Bella’s eyes. But it seemed to be mixed with something else. Chloe smiled, “So there isn’t one?” I nodded affirmatively. Chloe smiled and read out the content of the dare. “On your social media, without blocking anyone, post the following content—I like you, only visible to you.” “Open the message box of the person who replies instantly.” I was silent for a moment, raised my hand obediently. “What if no one replies instantly?” “Then just pick the person who replies first and open the message box.” I nodded thoughtfully. Took out my phone, just edited the content, haven’t posted yet. Joy raised an eyebrow, “You wouldn’t deliberately block some people, would you?” I hesitated, handed out the phone, “How about, you guys post it?” Closed my eyes watching them click post. A bit painful. What if no one sends a message later. Wouldn’t I be finished? My reputation was already bad, now I’m going to be hated by everyone. Forget it, my agent Sister Jiang is watching my live broadcast all the time, she should send me one, right? Barrage swiping: [Tsk tsk tsk, just old variety show people! Know how to hit the snake at seven inches!] [Ahhh, LMAO, seeing the manipulative girl so unwilling, so cool!] [This post goes out, this manipulative girl’s fish pond must be overturned?] [Well done! I didn’t understand what the all-female variety show invited her for before, now I understand, she is a clown!] There were some other contents in the barrage, unsightly. I was a bit uneasy. Give some strength! Reply quickly! Probably my wish was too effective. Message notification sounds one after another. I breathed a long sigh of relief. Luckily. Joy and Chloe opposite, the moment they heard the message notification sound, their eyes lit up. Immediately afterwards, the phone was directly projected onto the screen. I saw the latest pop-up messages. Um, seems a bit many. Chloe and Joy saw the people on the list clearly, and their faces sank in unison. Pulling out a smile, Chloe asked: “Little Fish, whose do you want to see first?” I looked at the string of messages, showing despair. Picked a soft persimmon. My brother—Liam. Remark is his WeChat name “Spark”. I often block him, the remark I gave him before was “Pretentious Bro”. Now too lazy to remark. Chloe looked at the avatar on it with some hesitation. “This person, seems to be Teacher Liam?” I nodded, frankly said: “Yes.” Chloe’s hand handing over the phone shook, “Aren’t you afraid he will reprimand you?” I quickly took the phone that almost fell into the hot pot. “Why would he scold me?” Chloe widened her eyes in disbelief, “Shouldn’t Teacher Liam scold you?” That’s leeching off heat! I don’t know if my brother scolded me, but the barrage started scolding me again: [No way? Will die without leeching heat?] [Just this? Dying soon and still frying heat?] [Sigh, after all black red is also red, as long as red, who cares how.] [Fisher lives so unscrupulously, parents must have flown away right?] [Brother Liam hates this group of heat-leeching stars the most, waiting for the manipulative girl to be blocked.] I turned my head, not looking at the barrage. Out of sight, out of mind. Directly clicked open my brother’s message chat box. Projection floated out, camera aimed. Spark: [?] [Do you want to ruin this family?!!] [Delete it quickly, I’ll pretend I didn’t see it, sis.] [Delete it now!] Silence all around. Listening carefully, there was still the sound of surprise from Goddess Bella dropping a beef ball into the soup. Obviously everyone was stunned. Everyone looked shocked. Chloe looked ugly, forgetting even basic expression management. Staff seemed to be still digesting this news. Only I calmly sent messages. [Pretentious Bro, rest assured, I won’t love you even if I love anyone.] [Content of Truth or Dare.] The opposite was also an instant reply. [Luckily, my life is saved.] Barrage scrolling crazily: [Ahhhhhh! Is it really Brother Liam?] [Holy crap, isn’t this really someone Fisher found to impersonate?] [But such a lie that breaks with a poke, shouldn’t be necessary right?]

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  • The Substitute Wife’s Exit Strategy

    In the second year of my marriage, I unexpectedly received a call from my husband’s ex-girlfriend. She handed me a medical report and a bank card. “I have liver cancer, late stage. It’s incurable.” “There’s half of my life savings on this card. It’s all yours. Can you please be generous and let your husband accompany me on my final journey?” Before getting married, I knew my husband had a great love, but due to circumstances, they couldn’t end up together. I had noticed my husband’s schedule was a bit odd lately. I thought he was cheating, but it turned out his ex-girlfriend was dying. Why should women make things difficult for other women? I accepted the bank card and, under her expectant gaze, said magnanimously: “Sure, but let me be clear first, I won’t divorce.” She looked moved, almost kneeling down to me: “Miss Chen, thank you for your fulfillment…” “No need to thank me, I took the money.” I waved the bank card in my hand, “Don’t worry, I definitely won’t disturb you two during this time.” Her thin and lonely figure left. I stared for a while until another person sat down opposite me. “When you were dating me, why weren’t you this magnanimous?” I took a sip of coffee and answered with a smile: “I was young then, couldn’t tolerate a grain of sand in my eye. Now I’m older, I can stomach a whole ship.” 1 The man sitting opposite me is Ethan Ford. My ex-boyfriend. A typical scumbag who is wealthy, handsome, and has high emotional intelligence. Back then, I was relatively naive and ignorant, and the breakup wasn’t very decent. But after all, we loved each other. After so many years, it’s okay to sit down calmly, drink a cup of coffee, and chat about the current situation. He said he was still unmarried. I joked with a smile: “That’s good. For someone like you, playing around is fine, but don’t get married and harm others.” “Don’t make me sound so worthless. When we were dating, I spent a lot of money and thought on you.” Ethan’s tone was frivolous, “You are the only official girlfriend I have ever publicly acknowledged.” “Should I feel honored? Should I give you an award to frame and hang on the wall?” I retorted, putting down the coffee cup in my hand, “Alright, I have things to do, I’m leaving first.” “Wait.” Ethan shook his phone, “Can you find time to unblock me?” “Sure.” In the years without reuniting, I rarely thought of Ethan, and naturally, I wouldn’t specifically unblock him. Before, I thought old flames absolutely couldn’t be friends, best not to meet again in this lifetime. Now I feel, for a nodding acquaintance, one more is not too many, one less is not too few. Ethan reappeared in my friends list. I stared at his profile picture which hadn’t changed for many years, a bit surprised. I didn’t expect a man so fickle in relationships to be so dedicated to his profile picture. This thought flashed by. I drove home, simply packed my luggage, and prepared to stay in a hotel for a while. It’s not that I don’t have other houses to live in, it’s just that staying in a hotel saves the most effort and is convenient. Just as the luggage was packed, Liam returned. Regarding this husband in name only, whether there is love or not, it’s hard to say. But I am indeed satisfied with him in all aspects. Living together these few years, we have never had conflicts. When I discovered he might be cheating before, I hesitated whether to have a frank talk with him. Now learning the reason, I don’t mind at all. I’ve heard the story about him and that woman, and I know how unforgettable that relationship was. Regardless of how much feeling he still has for his ex-girlfriend, how much do I care? In my opinion, a man with affection and righteousness is at least more reassuring than an ungrateful man. Liam saw the suitcase in my hand, opened his mouth and closed it again. After a while, he sat down on the sofa: “Elle, let’s talk?” 2 I nodded casually, and handed him the bank card as I sat down: “Your ex-girlfriend gave it to me.” “Say what you will, at least she’s sincere, not just lightly selling misery to morally kidnap me.” I said with a smile, “I don’t know how much money is in here, but given her personality, she definitely wouldn’t give a small amount.” “Husband, your value is quite high.” Liam twitched the corner of his mouth, his eyes a bit complicated: “Actually, I wanted to tell you this before, but… I never found a good opportunity…” “It doesn’t matter, I can understand.” I sighed lightly, “Where does she live now?” “I found her a house.” “I remember our house in the Third Ring Road has good layout and lighting, how about letting her live there?” I thought for a moment and said, “Actually, you can bring her directly to this home, I don’t mind.” Patients with late-stage cancer will weaken rapidly, and in the terminal stage, they cannot leave people’s side at all. Given Liam’s personality, he will definitely stay inseparable until the end. He has a bit of trouble sleeping in unfamiliar beds, and always slept poorly on business trips before. So I thought, simply move to a hotel for a while, vacate the house, and let Liam bring his ex-girlfriend back to live. Liam gave a bitter smile and looked at me: “Elle, I didn’t expect you to be so magnanimous.” “Isn’t being magnanimous good? My approach is trying to save face for everyone involved.” “But you know my bottom line.” I looked at him and said softly, “I can cooperate with anything, except divorce.” “I know.” Liam took a deep breath, “You don’t need to move, hotels aren’t as comfortable as home.” “I will fulfill the responsibility of a friend and accompany her on this journey. But rest assured, I am very clear that you are my wife.” I looked at him somewhat blankly. Liam let out a long breath, his expression a bit relaxed: “Let’s still get along as before, okay?” “Then what about your ex-girlfriend? Your breakup back then was a lifelong regret, right? Are you sure you won’t give her a perfect ending?” “Elle, we are all just mortals.” Liam said, “Mortals’ lives are mostly regrets, where are there so many perfect endings.” 3 I pride myself on being a very tolerant wife, and I don’t have a desire to control Liam. As long as he feels there is no problem, then I have no problem either. Getting along with Liam is not as before. Since I knew about his ex-girlfriend, he doesn’t hide taking calls from me anymore. Occasionally his phone rings in the middle of the night, almost always calls from his ex-girlfriend. When night is deep and quiet, people find it hardest to endure loneliness. I know what kind of torture illness can bring to people, sleepless nights, living is worse than death. Liam specifically arranged a family doctor and nurse for his ex-girlfriend, but medical staff can never replace relatives. Woken up by the phone again in the middle of the night, I yawned, rubbed my eyes and sat up slowly from the bed. Liam finished the call and walked in from the balcony. Seeing me half-asleep leaning against the headboard, he paused, looking apologetic: “Did I wake you?” “It’s okay.” I yawned again, “Are you really not going to accompany her? She needs you very much now.” Liam stared at me intently: “Do you really think I should go accompany her?” My emotions remained calm: “I received two calls today, both from your brothers.” “They advised me to be more magnanimous, saying your ex-girlfriend doesn’t have many days left, asking me not to haggle with a dying person.” Liam was stunned. “Your phone rings every midnight. This call takes at least half an hour.” “If you really don’t want to disturb me, you can completely silence it or go sleep in the guest room.” “Liam, I said, I don’t mind about you and her.” “I’m really not that petty. Just like your brothers said, she’s about to die, what do I have to haggle over.” “You can neither abandon your responsibility to me as a wife, nor completely ignore your old love. The more you want to be perfect, often the less you do anything well in the end.” Only silence remained in the room. Only a small table lamp was on in the bedroom, I couldn’t see the expression on Liam’s face clearly. After a long silence, I spoke again: “Or is it that you want to divorce me and give her a title in her last days?” I clearly saw Liam’s fingertips hanging by his side tremble. For some unknown reason, I suddenly felt a bit sour. So the bottom line I had been holding onto was finally broken. I lowered my eyelids and said softly: “Divorce… is not impossible. But regarding my parents, you have to come forward.” “You know, I don’t want them to worry about me.” After all, as the real daughter found by the Chen family at the age of 18, my kinship fate in this life is not deep, but cannot be broken. 4 Liam said he never thought about divorcing me. I don’t know what he said to those friends, but I never received calls inexplicably accusing me of not being magnanimous enough again. When getting off work, I received a call from my mother. She said it was my father’s birthday this week and asked me to bring Liam home for dinner on Friday. I thought for a moment and replied: “Okay. But Liam happens to be going on a business trip, so I’ll come back alone then.” “Okay, I saw the weather forecast says there will be sleet recently, drive slowly when you come.” “Okay.” Since the day I returned to the Chen family, the relationship with my biological parents has been like this, neither salty nor bland. It’s not intentional, it’s just that besides blood relations, getting along is also very important in human interactions. I was already 18 then, living under others’ roofs for years, my personality was fixed. Although not unlikable, it is difficult to act spoiled without scruples like those children who grew up held in their parents’ palms. The child who was swapped by mistake is named Clara. She is still unmarried and lives with her parents. Actually, her personality is not bad, cheerful and generous, one can tell at a glance she is a child raised in wealth. But maybe my personality is too awkward. Every time she feels guilty, thinking she occupied my happy life for many years in vain, and wants to compensate me and be good to me, I feel her behavior is full of hypocrisy. The happier she lives, the more bitter my life seems. After work on Friday, I went to the mall to buy a birthday gift for my father. It’s cold in winter, suitable for wearing a scarf. Father likes horse riding, so I asked the shopping guide to introduce some horse gear. While browsing, customers came into the store again, a young man and woman. I glanced inadvertently and found one of them was an acquaintance. Ethan Ford. The beautiful young woman affectionately held his arm, asking the shopping guide to get a bag for her. Ethan also saw me, surprised for a second, then nodded naturally towards me. “Who is it?” The young woman also looked curiously at me. “University classmate.” Ethan was frank, “You choose first, I’ll go say hello.” He walked over, glanced at the horse gear in the shopping guide’s hand, understanding in his eyes: “Preparing to give to husband?” The young woman still had some doubts in her eyes, but upon hearing Ethan say this, she was immediately relieved and happily started looking at bags and ready-to-wear clothes. I withdrew my gaze and smiled, asking the shopping guide to bill me. “Is your husband named Liam?” I looked up abruptly. Seeing my serious expression, Ethan smiled casually: “Don’t misunderstand, I didn’t deliberately pry into your privacy. It’s just that I took on a new project last week and had a meal with the project manager.” “His name is Liam, and his phone screen is your wedding photo.” “Later after the meal ended, the person who came to pick him up happened to be the woman who asked you to give up your husband in the coffee shop before.” Pausing, Ethan asked me: “Did you really give up your husband? Didn’t you say toothbrushes and men are absolutely not shared?” “Did I say such things?” I paid the bill nonchalantly, “I don’t remember.” “Thinking about it this way, were you unfair to me back then?” Ethan chuckled lightly, “After all, I never let those mistresses make a scene in front of you.” “Maybe a bit unfair, so what do you want?” “Is there any point in keeping a marriage with neither love nor loyalty?” Ethan asked me with a faint smile, “Can you have an old flame reignited with me?” “Sure.” I answered too crisply, making Ethan a bit stunned. “Are you serious?” I shrugged: “Just joking. Didn’t you use to joke with me often?” Looking at the time, it wasn’t early. “You and your female companion take your time shopping, I’m leaving first, bye.”

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