Category: English

On one of those Reddit threads asking, “How hard is it to get over your first love?” my fiancé’s answer popped up: “Can’t let go, can’t forget. I married her niece, so I could always be near her, even just as family.” The post quickly got buried, and Ethan switched to anonymous, but I’d already seen it. Because I’m the poor sucker niece in that answer. Except, I’m not heartbroken. After all, my own anonymous answer to that same question, posted three years ago, already has tens of thousands of upvotes and comments. 1. When I opened the door, my husband, Ethan, stood there, eyes bloodshot, reeking of alcohol, his shirt a wrinkled mess. I took the jacket he offered, stepping back slightly to avoid the wave of booze fumes. He proposed last week. I said yes. This morning, we went down to City Hall and made it official. Ethan tugged at his collar, trying to hide his low spirits. I was happy for the quiet, pretending not to notice as I offered some wifely concern. “Did a friend drop you off? Drink lots of water, take care of yourself.” “That doesn’t matter.” Ethan grabbed my arm impatiently, pulling me into a hug. “They’re just jealous I have such a great wife. We’re finally family.” Ethan holds his liquor okay. He crashed on the sofa and was out cold pretty quickly. I noticed his phone was unlocked. Even though I’d stumbled across his Reddit post half an hour earlier, I still felt a pang of… not pity, maybe just disappointment at his carelessness. The thread: “How hard is it to get over your first love?” His answer: “Forgetting is impossible. Dating her niece… well, the vineyard owner wasn’t really after the grapes, if you know what I mean. It was just so I could see her often, even call her ‘Aunt.’ Now, the niece loves me deeply, but I don’t really love her back. My first love is her aunt. No one can replace her. Getting married was just about having a legitimate reason to be close, to protect my first love from afar.” 2. The first time I brought Ethan home, I hadn’t even introduced my Aunt Audrey yet. But he reacted like he knew exactly who she was, didn’t miss a beat, just followed my lead and called her “Aunt Audrey.” Thinking back on Audrey’s expression then—surprise, confusion—it was incredibly subtle. Ethan, meanwhile, couldn’t hide his smug satisfaction. Looking back now, there wasn’t much innocence in that moment. 3. Actually, Audrey isn’t my biological aunt. She’s my grandfather’s daughter from another relationship. My grandfather and her mother passed away when she was young, and my grandmother decided to raise her until she was an adult. When I started high school, she was a junior in college, doing an internship in our city and staying with us. My parents were very understanding and tolerant towards her, but she just became more spoiled and demanding. “Your aunt hasn’t had it easy,” my dad would often say, urging me to be kind. Good people often feel sorry for those who’ve suffered. Despite all the affection she received, Audrey was never satisfied. She competed with me for everything, tried to sabotage my reputation, spread rumors. If we were both home, conflict was inevitable. As we got older, we maintained a surface-level peace, but underneath, the currents were always turbulent. She probably thinks she’s finally won. My husband is the man she discarded, a man still deeply in love with her, his unforgettable first love, his ‘moonlight.’ This morning, I posted pictures of our marriage certificate and sent out wedding invites online. Audrey commented “Congratulations.” I wonder what she was really feeling. Ninety percent of Ethan’s long Reddit post was about how he couldn’t get over Audrey after they broke up, how he “accidentally” found out about her niece (me), and how he pursued me. So that’s how it was. Suddenly, Ethan, asleep on the sofa, grabbed my wrist. “Don’t go… don’t leave me…” I pulled my hand away. What Ethan doesn’t know is that three years ago, I also answered that question. My post now has over thirty thousand upvotes and two thousand comments. After posting it back then, I never dared to look at it again. It represented a dream I couldn’t touch, something that only brought wistful pain whenever I thought of it. Truth is, my dream should have ended long ago. Ethan was never him. But I had a promise I needed to keep. 4. The next morning, we were supposed to check out wedding venues. Ethan glanced at his phone, then bailed on me. I didn’t need to ask who texted him. Two years ago, Audrey got her wish and married into a wealthy family. Her husband wasn’t exactly good to her – partying, womanizing, even a violent streak. But she dragged her feet on divorcing him, unwilling to give up the money and status. Three minutes ago, she posted on her Instagram story. “Hangover headache. Feeling helpless.” No wonder Ethan rushed off. Good thing I didn’t make much breakfast today; just enough for one. 5. At three in the afternoon, Ethan called me downstairs, his tone casual. I opened the car door. Aunt Audrey was in the passenger seat. Ethan said, “Your aunt works in design. I specifically asked her to come help you check things out.” He pursed his lips. There was a small cut on his lip. Audrey’s lips looked a bit swollen too, her lipstick smudged around the edges. Audrey smiled faintly but said nothing. I paused by the door for a moment. Audrey acted as if she just realized. She put on a high-pitched voice, “Oh, I know the city routes better, so I’ll navigate from the front seat. You don’t mind, do you, Lily?” Ethan immediately jumped in. “Why would she mind? Aunt Audrey, you just sit up front. Right, Lily?” Halfway through the drive, Audrey dropped a bombshell nonchalantly. “I’m divorced.” The car screeched to a halt, triggering a chorus of angry honks. I could feel the irritation from other drivers through the windows. Ethan ignored it all, staring only at Audrey, his voice hoarse. “You’re divorced?” Audrey curved her lips into a smile, meeting his gaze boldly. “Yes.” Ethan stared at her for a long moment, single-handedly adding to the already congested traffic. They looked like actors in a soap opera. Afraid they’d derail my important plans, I had to break the spell. “We should get going.” 6. The atmosphere in the car was tense the rest of the way. Once we reached the wedding venue, Audrey immediately slipped into the role of the protagonist, discussing details meticulously with the manager. Ethan hovered nearby, pouring her water, fanning her occasionally. They exchanged intimate smiles, completely ignoring me. The manager chuckled admiringly. “You two make such a beautiful couple. Truly enviable.” A sudden silence fell over the venue. I watched Ethan steadily. The words, “She’s actually my bride,” never came out. I let out a short, sharp laugh. Not surprised. Just then, faster than you could say “drama,” Audrey’s ex-husband, Mark, burst in. I don’t know how a body ravaged by booze and excess could muster the speed of a sprinter, but maybe rage fueled him. Mark glared at Audrey. “So this is why you suddenly divorced me! You had some pretty boy waiting on the side! Have you no shame?” Audrey immediately hid behind Ethan. “Leave me alone! We’re divorced!” Before anyone knew it, Ethan and Mark were throwing punches. Audrey wrung her hands nearby, pretending to break it up, but somehow I, in my heels, got caught in the crossfire. I lost my balance, tumbled to the ground, and felt a sharp crack in my ankle. The manager finally snapped into action, and security guards dragged Mark out. Ethan rushed straight to Audrey. “Aunt Audrey, are you okay?” I tried to move my ankle and cried out in pain. Before he could even turn towards me, Audrey fainted. He didn’t hesitate for a second, turning back mid-stride, scooping her up. “Lily, I’ll come back for you later.” In that moment, I felt no sadness. Watching Ethan dart back and forth just now, he reminded me of that donkey in Aesop’s fables, wanting both the hay and the water bucket, finally collapsing from indecision. 7. “Okay,” I said. “Just make sure you come back.” My ankle hurt, but after a minute, I could hobble. Predictably, Ethan never returned to the venue that night. He called later, told me to go home and rest. Said Audrey was very weak, needed to be hospitalized, and he was staying there to take care of her. Good thing I didn’t wait for him until midnight. 8. Late that night, lying in bed, I opened my old keepsake box, not a Bible, but close enough, and took out a photograph. Noah, did you see? Today, I finally made it to the wedding of my dreams. But the silent night offered no reply, only endless loneliness. The next day, I went to the cemetery on the outskirts of town. In front of Noah’s headstone, there was a bouquet of chrysanthemums. And a mother and daughter. The little girl looked at me and asked, “Are you related to Noah?” I was speechless for a moment, thinking of the wedding that never happened, the celebration I could never reach. Silence and grief washed over me. “Yes,” I managed, my voice choked. “I’m his… family.” “Noah saved me,” the little girl said earnestly. “He donated his corneas to me. He gave me sight.” My heart jolted. I looked down at the little girl’s innocent eyes, emotions overwhelming me again. Tears welled up, threatening to fall. “Little one,” I asked, my voice trembling, “is your name… Chloe?” The little girl nodded. “Yes, miss. I’m Chloe.” (Original: Chu Qian, changed to Chloe for clarity) So, it was wrong from the very beginning. I had the wrong person all along. The one with Noah’s eyes was never the Ethan I knew. I forced a smile and gently patted the girl’s head. “Chloe, you need to live facing the sun. Grow up strong and happy.” 9. The little girl nodded again, then looked up at me. “Miss, what kind of person was the big brother?” “Him? He was a very strong, very gentle person. He always showed me warmth and hope.” “He was a light in my life.” The little girl handed me a paper crane she was holding. “Miss, don’t be sad. This is the thousandth paper crane I’ve folded. Big brother Noah is definitely watching over you from heaven.” I stroked her head. “Thank you.” After they left, I slowly sank down, tracing the inscription on the headstone, murmuring, “Noah, will you be angry that I got the wrong person?” The Ethan I found wasn’t the Chloe I was looking for. He was just… irrelevant. I never liked him. But every time I looked into his eyes, it felt like Noah was speaking to me. How could I refuse those eyes? So I said yes to Ethan’s confession. I said yes to Ethan’s proposal. He was, after all, the closest thing to Noah left in this world. But when he closed his eyes, the illusion shattered, yet I refused to wake up. That so-called obsession… vanished in an instant. My phone rang. It was Ethan. I turned it off without a second thought. The man on the headstone photo was expressionless, but his eyes were warm and kind. I took that picture. But when I took it, I never imagined it would become black and white. I whispered to him, “Noah, let’s get married.” “Do you think this could all be a dream? Maybe tomorrow I’ll wake up, and you’ll be alive again?” “If you can hear me, make the clouds break, okay?” 10. Just then, sunlight pierced through the clouds, scattering down from the sky, finally settling on the earth. The biting chill finally faded. The sky… it really cleared. A distant breeze lifted my hair, dried the tears on my cheeks, and soothed the heavy sadness in my heart. Strands of hair brushed my face, just like that summer when I was seventeen. I really thought he would be by my side forever. That day, I’d fought with Audrey. She’d given away some of my things without asking. We got into a physical fight; no one could pull us apart. When my dad came home, he slapped me right across the face. “You disappoint me so much.” I slammed the door and ran out, consumed by pain and frustration. But around the corner, I found myself drawn back to Noah’s flower shop. It was graduation season, filled with clouds of baby’s breath. Amidst the flowers, I saw the busy owner. Maybe it was the gentle way his brownish hair caught the light, maybe it was the bright summer sun, but surrounded by the scent of flowers, I walked into the shop. Inside his shop, I kept my head down. But he stopped what he was doing, came over, looked gently into my eyes, and ruffled my hair. “Eyes are so red. What’s making my little friend so sad and gloomy?” “Nothing, just tripped and fell.” He brought over the first-aid kit anyway. With those same long fingers that tied beautiful bouquets, he gently dabbed antiseptic on my scraped knee. “You don’t have to be so strong all the time,” he said softly. “I’m here.” I couldn’t hold back anymore. I threw myself into his arms and sobbed. His beige shirt got soaked with my tears. He smelled like clean laundry and warm sunshine. He usually kept a respectful distance, but that time, he didn’t push me away. He just gently patted my back. It was the safest I’d felt in anyone’s arms since my mom passed away. I knew, right then, I was hopelessly falling for him. He didn’t say much, but he was kinder than anyone I knew. 11. Audrey posted on social media again. The smugness in her words made me suspect she’d set the privacy to “Ethan only.” The picture showed a bowl of soup on a hospital bed tray. The caption: “Having you here is my greatest happiness.” One of Ethan’s hands was prominently featured in the shot. He stayed at the hospital with her for two days. I didn’t want to deal with it anymore. I quietly went back to our apartment and started packing my things. Just as I was almost done, Ethan came back. Usually, when our eyes met—his eyes—I’d break into a happy smile. But now, I didn’t even bother looking up. Treated him like air. Suddenly, Ethan grabbed my hand. When I finally looked up at him, he fell silent. He seemed hesitant, but I had no more time to waste. “Let’s get a divorce.” My directness seemed to throw him off, leaving him looking lost. “I’m sorry. I messed up. You… take care of yourself… find happiness…” Before he could finish, I went into the bedroom, dragged out my packed suitcase, ready to leave. He frowned, looking at my luggage. “When did you pack?” “Right around the time I realized first loves are truly unforgettable.”

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What’s it like being married to someone who doesn’t love you? Evening rush hour. I’m sitting in the passenger seat of my husband’s car, typing out an answer to that exact question on my phone. My fingers fly across the screen as memories from high school flood back. Suddenly, the guy next to me glances over, casually asking, “What are you writing that’s got you so focused? You didn’t even hear me talking to you.” My heart skips a beat. I fumble, quickly closing the app, and force a smile. “Oh, nothing much. Just chatting with a friend.” I turn to him, putting on my most innocent face. Ethan narrows his eyes slightly, clearly not entirely convinced, but lets it go. He sighs deeply, launching back into his rant about his ex-ex-girlfriend—the one who’d been clinging to him for the past six months. “Seriously, this woman is unbelievable. It’s not like I treated her badly when we were together, right? But she’s like Krazy Glue, totally driving me nuts. Now she’s texting me asking why I married you…” I listen intently, like I’m getting the inside scoop on the hottest guy from high school. All I need is a bag of popcorn. Hearing him talk, you might think Ethan was deeply in love with me. Only I know the truth: he married me because he thought I didn’t love him either. Someone who didn’t love him wouldn’t get clingy or jealous, wouldn’t cause him any trouble. What he doesn’t know is that I’ve been crushing on him since seventh grade. I’ve just gotten really good at hiding it. While he’s distracted by traffic, I quickly reply to a particularly intense comment on my post: He’s not bad to me. He gives me plenty for spending money, picks me up from work… he just doesn’t have feelings for me, that’s all. Another commenter earnestly offered to drive a bulldozer over and help me escape. I almost snort with laughter. We get home. Ethan eats a quick bite and then heads back out to the office to work late. I hand him some fruit to take with him, walking him to the door like I always do. “Drive safe.” He nods, opening his umbrella and stepping out into the rain. I watch his car disappear down the street before heading back inside. Lately, I’ve been playing this online game Ethan used to be obsessed with back in high school. When he found out, he just lent me his old account. He was totally nonchalant about it. “That game has a ton of boring starter quests. Just use my account; I haven’t played in ages anyway.” I knew about his reputation back then, and even before we got married, he was upfront about his past – lots of ex-girlfriends, lots of online “friendships.” He’d said if his history bothered me, we shouldn’t get married. So, logging into the game and seeing a friends list full of female avatars wasn’t exactly a shock. It did sting a little, though. Thinking about it, he probably doesn’t even remember half the girls he flirted with using this account. I eventually managed to tease him about it, trying to sound casual. “Wow, you were quite the popular guy back in the day.” He just laughed. “That was a long time ago.” Tonight, like usual, I log into the game. Suddenly, I get an invite from a player with a little kitten avatar. My finger slips while trying to decline, and I accidentally accept, landing right in her private lobby. Thankfully, I hit the exit button fast. All I hear is a tearful “Ethan?” before I’m back on my own screen. But she’s persistent, spamming me with party invites. Fine. I type back: Not him. He sold the account. The girl fires back immediately: You say that on every account… Are you that scared of me? Ugh. Not sure what to do, I screenshot the chat and send it to Ethan. What now? He replies with a string of periods, followed by three words: Delete her. So ruthless. I hesitate. I mean, technically she’s a rival, but she’s still just a girl. I try a gentler approach: Ethan’s married now. You shouldn’t waste your time hanging onto him. There are plenty of other fish in the sea, better ones too. Her response is instant: Who are you to him? She types fast. Girl: Like I care. That’s hilarious. People get divorced all the time, you know? Her audacity leaves me speechless. Okay, no more Mrs. Nice Guy. Me: I’m his wife. Silence from her end. A long silence. I start to think maybe she’s finally given up. Then, a new message pops up. Her: Are you Jessica? … Let me tell you a joke. Jessica is my husband’s “one that got away.” One of them, anyway. 2 It’s totally normal that she doesn’t recognize the name of my husband’s actual wife. Me and Ethan getting married was pure luck. Like, win-the-lottery kind of luck. Dumb luck. It was Memorial Day weekend. My parents, who live out of state, were visiting the family plot at the cemetery, lighting incense for my grandpa and other relatives. Right next to them, my future mother-in-law was doing the same for her family. My mom overheard her muttering to a headstone about how Ethan was almost thirty and still single. One thing led to another, my mom heard her, and the two of them started chatting. They compared notes, realized Ethan and I lived in the same city. Then came the photo exchange. Both moms were thrilled. Before I knew it, they’d orchestrated a blind date for us. It wasn’t until Ethan and I added each other on WeChat—yeah, we still used that sometimes—that we realized we’d gone to the same middle and high school for six years. Now we even worked in the same city. The only part of his life I missed was college. We went out for dinner once. Afterward, Ethan sent me a voice message on WeChat. I can still remember the deep, magnetic quality of his voice. He said, “Let’s be honest. I just need to get married to satisfy my family. I’ve dated a lot of people, and fair warning, I probably won’t fall in love with you. If we get married, the house will be in your name, and you won’t have to worry about chores or anything. If you’re okay with all that, and you’re interested, maybe we could give it a shot.” So, this marriage was basically optional for him. He was willing to marry me purely because he thought I didn’t love him either. His last girlfriend, the one he dated for six months, wanted to talk marriage. He thought she was too dramatic and needy, so he broke up with her. In his eyes, I was different. Anatomically female, sure, but otherwise, just like one of the guys. Loved gaming, kind of oblivious, seemed totally uninterested in romance. I know that the second I show any sign of actually loving him, he’ll file for divorce without hesitation. Ethan often reminds me, “If you meet someone you like, just tell me. Don’t cheat. We can get divorced amicably. Same goes for me.” I’ve heard it so many times my ears are practically calloused. I play along, pretending to be indifferent. “Nah, I’m good. Life’s pretty free right now, it’s great. I’m perfectly happy.” He seems satisfied with the status quo too. Even though he was the backdrop to my entire middle and high school existence. Somehow, we always just missed each other. I was completely insignificant in his world. Fine. Jessica it is, then. Jessica’s name carries more weight than mine, apparently. I type back to the kitten avatar girl: Yeah, that’s me, Jessica. We’ve been married for two years. She finally shuts up. A moment later, I check my friends list – she’s deleted me. Clearly, she knew when to back down. Gaming is my biggest passion, besides Ethan. I get completely absorbed and, oops, it’s suddenly past 1 AM. Just as I shut down the computer, I hear the front door open. Ethan is taking off his shoes in the entryway as I emerge from the study, heading towards the bedroom. Seeing me still awake, he frowns. “Playing games this late? Still not asleep?” I yawn. “Yeah. Going now.” “You haven’t changed into pajamas,” he notes, his expression disapproving. “Haven’t showered either, have you?” I know about his neat-freak tendencies. Caught, I nod awkwardly. The next thing I know, he’s dragging me towards the bathroom. “Get cleaned up before you get into my bed.” Showering with my high school crush… another win for today.

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sixth year Ethan Pei and I were together. His assistant, Sarah, saw her chance. She urged him: “This is perfect, Ethan. Let Amelia learn what hardship is. A spoiled princess like her needs toughening up if she’s The year my family went bankrupt was the ever going to be a proper Mrs. Pei.” Ethan listened to her. Ignoring my pleas, he shipped me off overseas for three years. The first year, riots broke out where I was living. I sent him countless frantic messages, begging for help. He blocked me everywhere – phone, social media, everything. The second year, I worked my ass off, saving enough for a plane ticket home. But at the airport, Ethan’s guys intercepted me, grabbed me, and sent me right back. The third year, I married the man who saved me from… well, let’s just call them insurgents. I didn’t tell anyone. When the three years were finally up, Ethan himself was there at the airport to “welcome me home.” “Three years eating dirt should’ve taught even a stray dog some obedience,” he sneered, leaning against his Maybach, sunglasses hiding his eyes. “From now on, you listen to me. Your husband’s word is law. Got it?” I just lowered my eyes, silently holding up my left hand, showing him the wedding band on my ring finger. He refused to believe it. He dragged me into a private lounge, ready to tear into me. In the midst of the chaos, my husband—the Special Forces operator supposedly still on a peacekeeping deployment—burst in and decked him. “You goddamn bastard!” Caleb roared. “How many lives you got, laying hands on your Aunt Amelia?” … Stepping off the plane, I greedily inhaled the air. Three years away. I’d almost forgotten the scent of home. Honestly, if Caleb Pei’s mother hadn’t taken a turn for the worse, constantly asking to see him one last time, I probably would never have set foot back in the States. But right before we were due to leave, Caleb got called away on a classified mission, so I had to come back alone first. I traveled light, just a small carry-on. Before I could even spot the driver Caleb had arranged, Ethan blocked my path. “Amelia Sutcliffe, I’m here to take you home.” He leaned against the gleaming black Maybach, sunglasses perched just so, trying to look cool and in control. But ever since my family went bankrupt three years ago, since my parents, seeing no way out, took their own lives… I haven’t had a home. I sidestepped him. “Don’t need it. I’m not here for you.” He blinked, taken aback. “What crazy talk is that? Who else do you even have in the States besides me?” A bitter, ironic smile touched my lips. Right. Even he knew I had no one else to rely on here. Yet, when my family’s world collapsed, he not only stood by and watched, he listened to his little assistant and shipped me off to some unstable, war-torn corner of the world to fend for myself. “That’s none of your business. My life has nothing to do with you anymore.” Maybe he expected three years of hardship overseas to have broken my spirit, smoothed out my edges. Instead, I felt colder, harder, more defiant than ever. Anger flared in Ethan’s eyes. “Amelia, you really haven’t learned a damn thing. Still got that same princess attitude.” “Or have you forgotten? The Sutcliffes are finished! You’re nothing now! A stray dog without a home! Who the hell do you think you are, talking to me like that?” He leaned closer, his voice dropping menacingly. “Maybe three years wasn’t enough? You want to go back for a few more?” Watching his mouth twist with that familiar cruelty, spitting out those callous words… the face I’d loved for six years felt utterly alien. He wasn’t always like this. He was New York royalty, the Pei heir apparent. I was the LA debutante, the Sutcliffe heiress. We met in college, fell head over heels. Everyone said we were the perfect couple, destined for each other. I won’t deny it, I was spoiled rotten growing up. I had a temper. But back then, Ethan adored it. He indulged my every whim. Anything I merely glanced at twice would magically appear before me within hours. Every casual word I uttered, he seemed to carve into his memory. How could I not fall for a man like that? But everything changed after Sarah Miller became his assistant. Sarah was the classic ‘poor girl makes good,’ all wide-eyed innocence and soft-spoken sympathy, always looking at Ethan with those big, sad doe eyes. At first, I dismissed her. Just an assistant. But gradually, Ethan started getting impatient with me. He accused me of being demanding, selfish, saying I wasn’t “understanding” and “considerate” like Sarah. Then, the Sutcliffe empire crumbled. My family went bankrupt. I begged Ethan for help, a lifeline, anything. He just watched, cold and detached, as everything we had slipped away. And then, on Sarah’s suggestion, he sent me away. Said it was to “smooth out my rough edges,” make me a “more suitable, dignified Mrs. Pei” for the future. But where he sent me… it was chaos. Riots, violence, instability. I stared death in the face more times than I can count. If Caleb hadn’t found me during one of his operations, pulled me out of that mess… I wouldn’t be here. I would have died, over and over again. Whatever love I had left for Ethan, whatever remained of those six years, died somewhere in the dust and fear and desperation of those three years. Before coming back, I made one resolution: For the rest of my life, I was Caleb Pei’s wife. I would have absolutely nothing more to do with Ethan Pei. Chapter 2 My silence only fueled Ethan’s anger. “Amelia, didn’t you hear me?” His voice rose, sharp and loud, drawing curious glances from passersby. I rolled my eyes internally. I hated people who made scenes in public. Zero class. Taking a deep breath, I forced down my rising irritation and spoke coldly, “Ethan, have you had enough? This is an airport, not your personal stage to throw a tantrum.” He acted like he hadn’t heard me. He stepped directly in front of me again, blocking my path. “Getting bold, huh? Talking back to me now? Get in the car. We’re going home, and I’m going to teach you some damn manners!” He reached out to grab my arm. I frowned, stepping back sharply. Before I could say anything else, Sarah Miller slid out of the passenger seat. She put on her concerned face, her voice soft and gentle. “Amelia, Ethan’s just worried about you. He came all this way to pick you up. It’s not safe for a woman to be out here all alone.” So sweet, so caring. As if she wasn’t the one who whispered in Ethan’s ear three years ago, suggesting he throw me to the wolves overseas. I shot her a freezing glance, then turned back to Ethan, deciding to cut through the crap. “Forget it, Ethan. I’m not going anywhere with you. I’m here to see my husband’s family.” Hearing the word “husband,” both Ethan and Sarah froze, their faces masks of stunned disbelief. Ethan gaped for a second, then burst out laughing as if I’d told the world’s funniest joke. “Husband? Amelia, you’re really something else. Still spinning tales? What husband?” He leaned in, his voice dripping with contempt. “You think anyone would actually marry you now? After what happened over there? The videos of you getting grabbed by those thugs are all over the internet back home. You think anyone decent would want you after that? Only I’m willing to overlook it, take you back, because of our history.” He gestured dismissively. “Seriously, if you’re going to lie, at least make it believable. Who else would possibly want you now?” Sarah chimed in smoothly, “He’s right, Amelia. Those videos… everyone’s seen them.” My chest tightened painfully. That first year overseas… snatched off the street by local militants during the riots. They heard I had a rich American boyfriend back home. They made those horrifying videos, sent them to Ethan, demanding a massive ransom. They threatened to sell me to… well, to the kind of places you don’t come back from. Being held captive… every second in that damp, cramped cellar was pure agony. I clung pathetically to the fantasy of Ethan, my powerful boyfriend, riding in like a white knight to save me. The reality? He ignored every desperate plea. Blocked me completely. If Caleb hadn’t stumbled upon me during one of his covert ops, rescuing me when he had no obligation to… I would have been lost, swallowed by that darkness forever. And now Ethan, even more shameless and cruel than I could have imagined, was not only broadcasting my trauma but throwing those videos in my face, using them as weapons. My face hardened instantly. “My private life is none of my ex-boyfriend’s concern,” I said, my voice clipped and cold. “My husband might get jealous.” Ethan didn’t back down; instead, he laughed even louder, more mockingly. “Husband? Still on that? Stop dreaming, Amelia. Are you starting to believe your own lies? What damn husband?” Sarah was right there, fanning the flames. “Amelia, just stop pretending. Ethan came all this way personally to get you. What more could you possibly want?” I’d been on a plane for over fifteen hours. Jet lag was hitting hard. And dealing with their relentless harassment… my patience snapped. I abruptly raised my left hand, letting the diamond on my ring finger catch the bright airport lights. “Open your damn eyes and look closely,” I stated, my voice flat but firm. “I. Am. Married.” Chapter 3 Ethan’s mocking smile froze on his face. He stared at the ring, then back at me, disbelief warring with a flicker of something else… panic? “You… you’re really married?” he stammered. “To who?” Before I could utter a word, Sarah let out a delicate little laugh, covering her mouth. “Oh, Amelia, did you take up acting while you were away? Going so far as to get props just to fool Ethan? That’s quite elaborate.” Hearing her words, the flicker of panic in Ethan’s eyes vanished. He visibly relaxed, puffing out his chest, his usual arrogance flooding back. He looked me up and down dismissively. “Still pulling the same old tricks, huh? Remember how you used to stage those fake breakups just to test me, see if I’d come running? Guess you’ve upgraded your tactics to fake marriage now.” His voice turned cruel again. “Too bad for you, you’re not the Sutcliffe heiress anymore. No parents, no power, no money… and you’re damaged goods.” He spat the words like poison. “Tell me, Amelia, besides me, who’d actually want you now?” People you were once intimate with always know exactly where to twist the knife for maximum pain. A wave of weary, hopeless absurdity washed over me. Six years of my life… utterly wasted on this piece of human garbage. There was no point talking to them. I turned, intending to just walk away and find my driver. But Ethan, enraged by my dismissal, lunged, grabbing my arm and shoving me violently. I stumbled backward, caught completely off guard, and crashed hard onto the pavement with a sickening thud. Just then, the driver Caleb had arranged, clearly wondering what was taking me so long, spotted the commotion and hurried over. Seeing me sprawled on the ground, he rushed to help me up. “Who are you people?” he demanded, his voice sharp with concern as he steadied me. “Why did you push Madam?” “Madam?” Ethan stared, the shock and disbelief stark on his face. He repeated the word, his voice trembling slightly. “Amelia… you married… him?” I froze for a second, realizing he’d mistaken the polite, middle-aged driver for my husband. A wave of exhaustion and disgust washed over me. I couldn’t even muster the energy to correct him. “It’s none of your business,” I said flatly, pulling away from the driver’s supportive hand. “I’m leaving now. Stop harassing me.” My dismissal seemed to trigger something primal, something furious in Ethan. He shoved the bewildered driver aside and lunged towards me again, his face contorted with rage, shouting, “Amelia, you really have no self-respect left at all, do you? Debasing yourself like this!” He got right in my face, spitting venom. “If your parents knew you ended up shacking up with some old geezer old enough to be your dad, they’d claw their way out of their damn graves!” Sarah instantly glided to my side, putting on a show of gentle disapproval for any onlookers. “Amelia, why are you doing this to yourself?” she murmured, loud enough for Ethan to hear. “Ethan doesn’t hold your past against you, you know. You don’t have to… degrade yourself by settling for… an old man.” Then she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper meant only for me, “You actually think a used-up whore like you deserves someone like Ethan? Maybe this old fossil is more your speed after all.” Nausea rose in my throat at her poisonous hypocrisy. I jerked my arm away from her feigned supportive touch. I barely applied any force, but she staggered backward dramatically, letting out a small cry. Before I could even process her act, Ethan surged forward, shoving me hard. I hit the ground again, the impact jarring my already bruised body. He caught Sarah, pulling her protectively into his arms. He glared down at me, his eyes blazing with fury. “Amelia, are you insane? Sarah was just trying to talk some sense into you!” He held Sarah tighter. “Fine, wallow in your own damn mess if you want to, degrade yourself! But why the hell would you attack her for trying to help?” I landed hard. My knees and palms, already scraped raw from the first fall, screamed in protest as fresh pain shot through them. The poor driver tried to step between us again, starting to say, “Sir, you misunderstand, I’m just the driver…” But Ethan just waved a dismissive hand. Instantly, two burly bodyguards materialized from near the Maybach. They grabbed the driver, efficiently stuffing something that looked like a handkerchief into his mouth, and dragged him away, ignoring his muffled struggles. The whole ugly scene was attracting a growing crowd of onlookers, whispering and pointing. Ignoring my desperate struggles and cries of protest, Ethan abruptly hoisted me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “Still haven’t learned your lesson, have you?” he growled, starting to stride towards the airport building. “Looks like I’ll have to teach you myself this time.” Chapter 4 He carried me, struggling futilely, into a private VIP lounge near the gates and unceremoniously dumped me onto a plush sofa. My head spun from the rough handling, and my back throbbed where I’d landed. The scrapes on my knees and hands, jarred and scraped again, started to actively bleed. But Ethan didn’t care. His face was a mask of pure, uncontrolled fury. He stormed over, grabbed the front of my shirt in his fist, and hauled me violently upright, forcing me to meet his blazing eyes. He looked like he wanted to tear me apart with his bare hands. “Amelia, you’ve got some goddamn nerve!” he snarled, his face inches from mine. “I sent you away to think about what you did wrong, to reflect! And instead, you run off and marry some ancient fossil?” Sarah trailed in behind him, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue, her face a picture of wounded innocence. “Amelia,” she sniffled pitifully, “Ethan waited for you all this time… he was going to forgive everything… And you secretly married someone else behind his back? An old man? How could you do that to him?” She turned her tear-filled eyes to Ethan. “I was only trying to help her see sense, Ethan. Please don’t be angry with her because of me.” Ethan’s face was thunderous, dark with rage. “You pushed Sarah,” he stated flatly, his voice dangerously low. “Get on your knees and apologize to her. Now.” My eyes flew wide in disbelief. “Are you out of your mind, Ethan?” I shot back, incredulous. “Why the hell should I kneel to her?” My defiance seemed to push him over the edge. His grip on my shirt tightened viciously, constricting my throat. I gasped, my face flushing red as air became scarce. “Don’t push me, Amelia!” he hissed, his voice tight with fury. “Do as you’re told right now, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll let this go. Otherwise, I swear to God, you and your ancient husband are going to seriously regret crossing me!” Sarah, ever the actress, tugged lightly at Ethan’s sleeve, sniffling again. “Ethan, please, just let it go… Maybe Amelia didn’t mean to push me. I’m really okay, honestly. Besides,” she added, with a perfect imitation of meek humility, “someone like her, a former heiress… she’d never dream of apologizing to someone like me, anyway.” Ethan let out a cold, harsh snort. “Former heiress? Don’t make me laugh. The Sutcliffes are history. She’s nothing now! Just some washed-up gold-digger shacking up with an old man for his money!” And with that, he delivered a sharp, brutal kick to the back of my knee, sending me crumpling towards Sarah. My knees slammed hard onto the plush carpet. Blinding pain shot up my legs. Tears of pain and humiliation welled in my eyes, but I clenched my jaw fiercely, refusing to lower my head, refusing to give Sarah the satisfaction of seeing me bow. “You bastard, Ethan!” I choked out, my voice trembling with rage and pain. “You absolute animal! The biggest mistake, the absolute worst regret of my entire life, was ever knowing you!” He exploded. “Regret knowing me?” he roared back. “Amelia, I sent you away for your own damn good! Who the hell could stand that spoiled brat attitude of yours day in and day out?” He was practically vibrating with self-righteous fury. “I did it for us! I was waiting for you to come back, humbled, ready to be the wife I needed! I was going to marry you! And you… you betrayed me! Crawled into some other guy’s bed!” His eyes narrowed, filled with ugly suspicion. “What, does the old guy screw you better? Is that it?” Sent me to a potential death trap… ignored my pleas for help… and he claimed it was for my own good? The sheer, staggering absurdity of it choked me. “You shameless, hypocritical monster!” I spat, finding my voice again despite the pain and the tears blurring my vision. “If you wanted some spineless, obedient doormat, you should have just gone out and found one! Don’t you dare stand there and pretend you were ‘reforming’ me for my benefit!” That finally, irrevocably, pushed him over the edge. He raised his hand, palm open, ready to strike me across the face. Just as the blow was about to land, the lounge door flew open with explosive force, kicked clean off its hinges. My husband—Caleb Pei, the Special Forces operator who was supposed to be thousands of miles away—stormed into the room. He took in the scene in a nanosecond – me on my knees, Ethan looming over me with his hand raised, Sarah cowering nearby. With a roar of pure fury, Caleb crossed the room in two strides and sent Ethan sprawling to the floor with a single, devastating punch. “You goddamn bastard!” Caleb roared, standing over Ethan’s stunned form, his voice shaking with rage. “How many lives do you think you have, laying your filthy hands on your Aunt Amelia?” Ethan hit the floor hard, stars probably dancing in his vision. He slowly pushed himself up, touching his mouth, his fingers coming away stained with blood. Sarah shrieked, her face bleached white with terror, scrambling uselessly towards Ethan as if to help him up. He shoved her away roughly. “Aunt Amelia?” he repeated, dazed and confused, staring up at Caleb. “What the hell are you talking about?” Caleb sneered down at him, his expression utterly contemptuous. “What, I’ve been gone deployed for so long you don’t even recognize your own uncle anymore? Or are you just blind, Ethan?”

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My cousin came to the city looking for work, and like a chump, I helped her find a place to stay. But not even two days later, she tells me, all freaked out, that some creep is stalking her. So, I take her to the cops, and guess who it turns out to be? The son of the richest dude in town! Since he hadn’t actually hurt her, the cops could only mediate. The rich kid’s all like, “I was gonna check you out for a while, see if I wanted to marry you. But you dragged me down to the station? Forget it. Seriously disappointed.” My cousin was kicking herself, trying to beg him to reconsider, but the guy had already moved on to some other chick. She went ballistic, stormed into my place, and stabbed me to death, screaming the whole time: “If it wasn’t for your stupid ideas, I’d be marrying that rich guy right now! It’s all your fault! All your fault!” I died from blood loss. Then I wake up, and I’m back to the day my cousin came to me for help. …… “Ugh, sis, what am I supposed to do?” “Someone’s been going through my trash every day, and some pervert’s been watching me through my window with binoculars! I feel like I’m being followed everywhere I go… “Sis, you’re my favorite cousin in the whole world, and my folks told you to look after me before I came here. You gotta help me!” On the phone, my cousin sounded all desperate, practically crying her eyes out. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath: “But you live in a really nice neighborhood. Whoever’s stalking you must be someone important, right?” She hesitated right away. So I pretended to be worried, saying: “What if it’s some rich guy with a fetish? Even if we call the cops, we’ll never win! Ugh, what are we gonna do?” Hearing that, my cousin started stammering: “Well, uh, sis, maybe I’ll just figure something out myself. Gotta go! Bye!” Then she hung up on me, just like that. I let out a huge sigh of relief. Okay, at least I passed the first hurdle. Last time, as soon as I heard about it, I was all on alert, dragging her around to gather evidence and call the cops. Later, at the police station during mediation, we found out the guy was the son of the richest family in the city! My cousin freaked, not only dropping the charges but blaming herself for missing out on a chance to hit the jackpot. She even started stalking the guy herself! Then, to try to land him, she put on some lingerie that barely covered more than my cell phone and went to his house to try to seduce him! But the guy wasn’t having it. He just laughed at her: “I was kinda interested in you at first, but then you had to call the cops on me? I told you, that was just me testing out a future wife! “Well, I’m into someone new now. You? Get lost!” My cousin had a meltdown, barged into my place, and stabbed me twenty-something times with a fruit knife! That’s when I found out she blamed me for helping her gather evidence and call the cops, which made her miss out on marrying into millions! I put down my phone and smirked to myself. Well, this time, don’t come crying to me. 2. I spent a few peaceful, happy days without contacting my cousin, and she didn’t contact me either. That was unusual. Ever since my cousin came to the city, she’d been a total pain in the ass, always needing something or just bored and wanting me to take her out to eat. She said she was looking for a job, but finding a job isn’t that easy. She went to a couple of interviews and then decided she was done, trying to mooch off me any way she could. At first, my aunt, playing the “family” card, had my mom rent a place for my cousin in my neighborhood, paying a whole year’s rent upfront. My aunt said she’d pay us back, but she never did, not even by the time my cousin stabbed me to death. Not to mention, my cousin was always coming over to bum stuff off me, even taking showers at my place! She used up half a bottle of my Jo Malone body wash in three days! She’d eat my cherries and durian like there was no tomorrow, and even take some with her! She used my black bandage face cream like it was free! She sprayed my Hermes Terre d’Hermes cologne like it was air freshener! And she was always asking to borrow money, three or five grand at a time, never paying it back. I don’t even know what she planned to use to pay me back. Was she my cousin or a freaking bandit? I’d wanted to shut her out a long time ago, but my mom wouldn’t let me! My mom said that when she was little, her parents were always busy working in the fields, and her sister, my aunt, carried her on her back and raised her. So, in her mind, my aunt’s daughter was like her own daughter! I got pissed right then and there. “Mom, you and Aunt have a great relationship. That was between you two, don’t make me pay for it! “If you want to take care of her, fly back from Europe and take care of her yourself. Don’t use me as your good deed!” My mom gave me a sheepish smile: “I know, I know. “So, I won’t let you do it for nothing, Mom’ll give you a little something for your troubles! Just think of it as helping me out! “Don’t worry about the money she borrowed, Mom’ll cover it. And you can buy new stuff to replace what she used! “Thanks for helping your mama, sweetie!” Then, before I even hung up, I got a notification on my bank account… Two million bucks. I wasn’t angry anymore. After all, my mom actually paid me! That’s why I went out of my way to help my cousin last time, only to end up stabbed to death. I can’t imagine how sad my parents would be if they knew. Anyway, I knew my cousin’s habits. She’d use mine instead of buying her own, treating my stuff like it was hers. So, her not contacting me was really weird. To keep her from causing more trouble, I did a little digging. She had a boyfriend! And it was the stalker guy! 3. I was surprised, but not really. After what I said, my cousin probably wanted to meet the stalker. And from what I knew, the stalker was going to brag about who he was. Last time, I was the one who caught him and insisted on taking him to the cops, even though he was yelling about his family. This time, my cousin caught him. Last time, she chickened out when she found out he was the son of the richest family. But this time… I sincerely hope they get married and stay locked up together! Don’t go messing with anyone else! I thought I was off the hook, but then one day I came home from work and ran right into my cousin. She was in my closet, stuffing bags. My designer bags. She was packing them, one inside the other, a dozen bags in one tote! My vanity was open too, and all the Tiffany necklaces, Van Cleef & Arpels bracelets, Cartier bangles, Bulgari rings… all crammed into another bag, ready to be taken. I was stunned for a second, then fury set in. Was she opening a shop? Who gave her the nerve? I yelled: “What are you doing?! Put that stuff down!” My cousin flinched, then seemed to find some courage from somewhere, puffing out her chest and saying, like she owned the place: “What? You have so many bags and jewelry. I see you just leave them there. I’ll just borrow a few, so what? “We’re practically sisters. You’re so rich. You don’t need to worry about this, right? “Oh, and can you lend me some money? It’s my boyfriend’s birthday soon, and I can’t give him something cheap. I want to get him a CK belt.” I almost laughed out loud. “Borrow money? Get outta here! “A few things? You have some nerve! “That ring you’re holding costs $1.6 million, that bracelet costs $2 million, and even the cheapest Alhambra necklace is worth $60,000 used! “Not to mention the bags you’re taking. Do you even know how much that CK bag costs? Even the tote you’re stuffing everything in cost $80,000! “All the stuff you packed is worth over $5 million used. And you call that ‘a few things’? “How much money do you have to be talking like that?” My cousin rolled her eyes: “Ugh! Do you even know who I’m dating right now? It’ll scare you to death! “The only son of the richest guy in the city! His family’s worth hundreds of millions! “My boyfriend’s that kind of guy, so I need stuff that matches my status, right? “I’m just borrowing it, I’ll pay you back! We’re so close, why are you freaking out? “When I marry that rich kid, I’ll give you back even better stuff!” Hearing that, I snorted. Marry the rich kid? In her dreams! I pointed my finger at her and said sharply: “Put everything down right now! “If you want stuff that matches your status, earn it yourself or ask your rich-kid boyfriend, don’t come begging here! “I’m telling you, I’m not giving you any of this stuff! “And I don’t need your promises, because every single one of these things means something to me! Who gave you the right to touch them? “I’m telling you, if even one thing is missing, I’m calling the cops! This is breaking and entering! “If you don’t listen… don’t blame me for not acting like family and sending you to jail! “Don’t believe me? See if I care!” Seeing my cousin looking all defiant, I smirked: “I was looking out for you because of my mom, but after what you’ve done, not even God could help you! “Put down that stuff! Empty your pockets! And get the hell out!” My cousin glared at me, then threw the stuff she was holding on the ground: “Let me tell you something! Don’t act so high and mighty just because you have a few bucks! One day…” She stomped her foot. “One day, I’m gonna slap that smile off your face! Don’t underestimate me because I don’t have money now! “You have so much designer stuff at such a young age, who knows how you got your money! “Probably earned it on your back! “Ugh! I don’t even want your dirty stuff, bought with your dirty money! “When I marry the rich kid, you’ll see!” After she stormed off, I looked at the mess on the floor and shrugged. Marry the rich kid? She didn’t know that the richest guy in the city didn’t even have a son.

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The new intern, to establish his “straight-shooter” persona, had been deliberately stealing my lunch orders for a month, even taking my pre-paid meals to appease the picky boss lady. Because of his “honesty,” he once force-fed me a bowl of scalding hot ramen, nearly burning through my throat. By the time I got to the hospital, they had to remove half my stomach! When I asked for compensation, he put his arm around my girlfriend’s shoulders: “I’m just a regular guy, how am I supposed to notice these things? What’s the big deal if I accidentally take the wrong order? He’s acting like a total drama queen.” “Besides, how much could his cheapo lunch cost? I already made it up to him with my ramen!” My girlfriend, all sympathy for him, didn’t hesitate to hand over my $10,000 Christmas bonus. And my boss, whom I’d worked tirelessly for over a decade, fired me without a penny of severance pay and blacklisted me in the industry. Because I didn’t have the money to pay for my grandma’s urgent surgery, she left this world. He, meanwhile, was basking in the admiration of my girlfriend and my boss. When my body was found, my phone was still playing that trending video on loop: #DouchebagHypocriteKillsGrandmaWithHisTwoTimingSchemes# Then, I woke up on the day he stole my lunch for the nth time! 1. “Oh my god, is Mark okay? Is his blood sugar low or something? Ugh, everyone get out of the way, let me take care of him.” A familiar voice snapped me back to reality. As my consciousness returned, I saw Chad hurrying toward me with a steaming bowl of ramen. My face turned pale. Last time, after Chad snatched my lunch, he saw me collapse and rushed to pour a whole bowl of burning ramen down my throat. The searing heat woke me, but he ignored my struggles and kept dumping the ramen all over my face. I almost had a hole burned through my esophagus, and not only did they have to cut out half my stomach, but I was left with a nasty scar on my face. When I demanded compensation, he turned around and complained to my girlfriend, Ashley. “Mark is being such a baby, not very macho, don’t you think? You women are all have terrible taste or what?” When she found out it was a cheap lunch, Ashley’s face immediately soured. “Why would you let Chad eat that nasty garbage? Are you really that broke? It’s a good thing Chad didn’t get sick, or I’d make you pay!” And Annabelle, my boss of ten years, took his side unconditionally. “Get on your knees and apologize to Chad, or don’t even bother coming back!” To appease Chad, they fired me and cut me off completely. When I tried to sue, they threatened me with my grandma’s upcoming surgery. Desperate, I had to start live-streaming to earn money, but Chad slandered me. He, however, gained a ton of fans by playing the “honest” guy. My grandma and I were just stepping stones for his fame, and I died with unfinished business! As Chad came closer, my stomach clenched involuntarily. “Get away from me! Who the hell thinks it’s a good idea to use scalding ramen to revive someone? Can’t you see I’m having a stomach cramp? Are you trying to kill me?” “And even if I did have low blood sugar, wouldn’t a glass of water be better?” I roared, wanting to unleash all the anger from my past life. A coworker added: “Is Chad doing this on purpose? I’m right next to Mark, and I don’t know what happened, but Chad comes running with a bowl of ramen. That stuff is so hot, it will burn someone’s face off.” Chad didn’t expect me to wake up, and the other coworkers were already pointing at him. His face darkened. 2. “You women are so smart, why don’t you do something? If I hadn’t stepped in, he would have already passed out!” Ashley, my girlfriend, came to the office for an inspection. She was a shareholder, who normally came in twice a month, but ever since Chad arrived, she was coming in 3 times a week. Seeing Ashley, Chad immediately changed his expression and walked behind her with a look of grievance. “Ashley, your boyfriend is so fake. He’s not as honest as me. Be careful.” Ashley’s heart went out to him, and she immediately apologized. When she was sure that Chad was alright, she sighed in relief. Then she glanced at me and rolled her eyes. “Who do you think you are? Chad is a regular guy, he wouldn’t think too much about these things. You’re acting like a baby, and you are ruining the company’s reputation. Half of your pay for this month is gone!” “Ugh!” I threw up. I struggled to a trashcan and crawled next to it. The office filled with the smell of vomit, and Chad said in disgust: “Mark, what are you doing? Why are you throwing up in the trashcan?” My stomach was churning, and I had no strength to say anything. “Oh my god! What is he doing?” I heard a coworker cry out. Before I could even see what he was doing, my mouth was pried open. “Mmmm…” An unbearable stench filled my nose and mouth. Chad was choking me so that I couldn’t turn away. “Mark, don’t move, or else something might happen to you!” I shook my head and pushed him away, but I was too weak. After he was done, I croaked: “What did you… give me?” It was sour and gross, making me want to vomit. He said proudly: “Didn’t you say ramen would hurt your stomach? Your vomit is fine.” “I had to look through the trash, so you better be grateful.” I was dumbfounded. “Did I kill your whole family in my past life? What kind of idiot would do that?” My blood was boiling, and the moment I heard the ambulance’s sirens, I passed out. 3. When I woke up, I was in a hospital. My throat was sore, but my face had no scars, and my stomach had no bandages. For once, I was relieved. But then the door was kicked open. “Stop faking it, Mark. You’re not trying to work, and you’re pushing all your work onto Chad!” “Chad is a regular guy and wouldn’t do this, you better fix things with the clients, or else I’m firing you!” It was my boss, Annabelle. We were childhood friends, and I followed her because she helped my grandma during college. The company had a lot of problems, whether it was a lack of money or connections. She promised me, that once the company grew, I would get a raise, stock options, and that I could buy back my house. Ten years have passed. The company grew, but she didn’t deliver on her promises. “It’s so hard to find a job nowadays, you should be grateful that I gave you one.” I was still making $3000 a month, and last life, my Christmas bonus went to Chad. Whenever I quit, she would bring up my grandma’s medical bills as an excuse. I wish that this company would go bankrupt! “I quit!” “But you have to return the money that I paid for the company, with the interest that is almost 300000, and the Christmas bonus of 100000, and compensation, along with the monthly bonuses.” I opened my phone and showed her the receipts. I had been waiting for this moment! Annabelle stared at me. “Are you crazy? When did you give money to the company? You lost a client, so you shouldn’t be compensated, you should be paying us!” I was about to say something, but Chad said in disgust. “Mark, a man should know his place. Annabelle is giving you a platform to display your talents. Otherwise, as a graduate, how could you find such a good job?” “Apologize to Annabelle. It’s so hard to find a job. Don’t throw it all away.” I scoffed. “You don’t want me to leave, or you’ll have to pick up the slack.” Chad glanced at Annabelle. Annabelle said: “I can cover for Chad! Do you think the company will fall apart?” Okay, I’ll see which department can operate without me! 4. Annabelle said affectionately: “Chad, you can take his spot after Mark leaves.” “Mark works so well, but I am smarter. I’ll be better.” Chad wrapped his arm around her shoulders. They flirted, and Ashley couldn’t bear it anymore. “Annabelle, Mark has been working for you for ten years, and is still not as good as a security guard. Don’t use Chad just because he’s honest.” “Chad, if there’s anything, you can tell Mark to do it. Whenever you mess up, he can cover you.” I laughed. “Impossible!” Ashley sneered. “Look at this, then tell me what you think!” She swiped on her phone. I saw that she had taken nude photos of me while I was asleep! They were edited to look like I was messing around, and the part that was p-ed was so small! “Ashley, are you sick!” Three years ago, I saved her life. But she became obsessed. The company was in debt, and Ashley became the second biggest shareholder. She was always at the company. She was rich and pretty, and I liked her. But after we got together, she started to ignore me. Especially when Chad came in, she became more indifferent. After my death, I realized that she wanted to use me to help Chad. “If you don’t want to, then I’ll show it to your grandma.” She laughed, but she forgot that without me, she wouldn’t be standing here. “Okay!” I wanted to take the money and leave, but I won’t be so nice now. 5. Annabelle gave me a spot next to the bathroom to humiliate me. She commanded me: “Mark, you are close to the bathroom, so you are cleaning it from now on.” Chad acted up, and knocked on my desk. “Mark, are you aware of the time? The presentation is to be used at the meeting. Why aren’t you done yet?” “There are reporters later. This is related to the reputation of the company. You better know what to do!” I scoffed. That work was done months ago, and now he wants me to finish it in one morning? “You ordered this much food? That’s such a waste. Ashley and Annabelle are coming to the meeting, so we’ll help you take care of it!” This isn’t an accident. They are taking it. But I did nothing. I had ordered takeout that my brother added a special ingredient to it. In my past life, my brother had a restaurant. He said it was for brand recognition, so that I can take it easy. I knew that he was just helping me, so I thanked him. Otherwise, why would these guys want to eat that food? Chad saw me, and smiled. The bathroom was broken, and had not been fixed. Annabelle wanted to punish me. I was full of rage, and my coworkers were trying hard. Chad was flirting and making fun of me. Laugh! It won’t be funny soon! “Mark, the customers and reporters are here, they are waiting for the elevator!” Lisa texted me. I responded, and was about to report. I saw the boss walking towards me. I stopped her. “Boss, the customers and reporters are here, let’s greet them.” She wanted to move away, but I held onto her. “What did you put in my food?” Ashley walked over. The coworkers were already paying attention to them. Chad wanted to rage, but he couldn’t do anything. “Annabelle, Ashley, why don’t you use this?” He secretly handed a black bag to them. But they thought that they were above everyone, so they wouldn’t do it. “We can hold it!” The customers arrived. “Ms. Ashley, Ms. Annabelle are great!” Mr. Liu went forward and shook their hands, and the reporters took photos. But then everyone heard a loud noise!

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Three years ago, I ended up in a coma saving Sarah. She never gave up on me, taking care of me with devotion. On the day I woke up, I hid in the closet to surprise her. Instead, I found her bringing her male best friend home late at night and going at it on our bed. “Sarah, this is hot, but we can’t keep sneaking around like this, right?” “Give it some time.” Sarah, lost in the heat of the moment, hesitated before succumbing to his smooth moves. In the morning, after they were asleep, I dragged my numb legs out quietly. And submitted my application to be a war correspondent. 1 Right after finishing the application and getting into my wheelchair, Sarah rushed out of the bedroom, panicked. “Danny, did you wet yourself?” “Sorry, I left you here all night. You must be freezing?” She checked me all over, a flicker of surprise crossing her face when she found me dry. Feeling my cold hands, she quickly wrapped me up in a blanket. Since she was so close, I caught a whiff of the raunchy, lusty scent clinging to her. I felt nauseous and had to fight with everything I had not to push her away. Suddenly, Jake wrapped his arms around her from behind, his hands wandering all over. He glanced at me coldly and yawned lazily. “Sarah, who cares about him? Let’s pick up where we left off.” His groping got more intense, and Sarah frowned, trying to push him away. He grabbed her hand, pinned it above her head against the wall, and leaned in close to whisper in her ear, “Let him watch. It’s hotter that way. He doesn’t know what’s going on anyway.” Sarah hesitated for a second before giving up. Before long, they were making out in front of me, red-faced and panting. Even the dog scratching at the door didn’t wake them up. Watching them put on a live sex show in front of me, my heart bled. This was my perfect wife? Before we got married, she was so reserved she wouldn’t even let me hold her hand. Then, I noticed Jake was wearing my boxers. Sarah had given them to me for my birthday before the accident. I treasured them and never wore them. Now she was not only cheating on me but giving my stuff to Jake. I went white with rage, my fists clenching. Just as I was about to explode, someone knocked on the door. “Hey, Sarah, your dog’s been barking and waking everyone up. I know you’re busy taking care of Danny, so how about I take him for a walk?” It was Old Man Johnson, our friendly neighbor. When Sarah was working and too busy, she always asked him to look after me. To make it easier for him, she’d given him a key to our place. Hearing the key slide into the lock, Sarah snapped to attention, quickly held the door shut, and replied frantically, “No need, Mr. Johnson. I’m done now.” She quickly shoved Jake back into the bedroom. She changed her clothes haphazardly and hurried out, dragging the dog with her. The living room fell silent. Then, the bedroom door slowly opened, and Jake walked out, wearing my bathrobe, looking refreshed. He rolled his eyes at me dismissively. “I’m sleeping with your wife, wearing your clothes, using your bed. What can you do about it? Wake up if you’ve got the balls, ha!” He pulled his hand from behind his back and tossed three used condoms in my face. The filthy things landed on my face, my clothes. My face went pale. I barely managed to swallow the urge to vomit. After he went back to the bedroom to sleep, I covered my mouth and rushed to the bathroom… After changing, I got the message that my application was approved. “Dear Mr. Daniel Carter, congratulations! You have been approved to be a war correspondent. A helicopter will pick you up in five days. Please prepare.” Five days, huh? That’s enough time. Time ticked by. Hearing the click of the lock, I quickly deleted the text and sat back in the wheelchair. Sarah walked in and saw the mess on the floor. Her face flushed red, and she stormed into the bedroom and dragged Jake out of bed. “Look what you did!” Jake yawned and glanced at the floor before grinning wickedly. He grabbed Sarah and started groping her. “Heh, he doesn’t know anything anyway. He can open his eyes, but he doesn’t have any thoughts or awareness. Doing it under his nose makes me feel like I’m really winning, Sarah.” “You!” Sarah bit her lip and struggled weakly before sinking into the lust he was creating, her eyes glazed over. Then, she saw something in her peripheral vision and her eyes cleared. She pushed him away and pointed at me, her voice trembling. “Did you change his clothes?” 2 I instinctively gripped the armrests, alarm bells ringing in my head. Jake was pissed his fun had been interrupted. Without even looking at me, he mumbled, “No way. Did you change him before you left?” “I… I was in such a rush to leave, I don’t remember if I changed him.” Sarah panicked and rushed over to me, crouching down. She stared at me, her eyes unblinking. She hesitated, then tentatively spoke. “Danny, are you awake?” I didn’t move. Jake lost his patience and scooped Sarah up to carry her into the bedroom. “Stop being paranoid. I’ve never heard of a coma patient waking up. I threw those things at his face, and he didn’t react.” “Knock it off. Let me ask again…” “We have time for another round. Pay attention.” The bedroom door slammed shut. Then came the moans and gasps. I sat alone in my wheelchair, listening to the sounds, feeling like I had fallen into an icy chasm, cold from head to toe. That’s when it finally hit me: my selfless sacrifice had only moved me. Jake didn’t leave until almost noon, looking satisfied. Sarah came out and saw me sitting alone in the wheelchair. Guilt washed over her. Her face flushed, and she quickly cleaned up the mess on the floor. Then she pushed me out onto the balcony to soak up the sun. “Danny, don’t worry. I’ll find a way to make you better.” She leaned against my shoulder, speaking seriously and clearly. I thought she was full of it. If she loved Jake so much, why didn’t she divorce me now that I was in a coma? Double standards, I thought angrily. I started planning my departure in five days, trying to figure out what unforgettable memory to leave her with. I didn’t expect her to actually hire the best medical team in the country to consult on my case. When she took me to the hospital, her phone rang. I glanced at it and snorted to myself. Jake really was everywhere. Sarah answered the phone, frowning slightly. After hanging up, she hesitated and apologized to the doctor. “Dr. Xie, please take care of my husband. I have some work to take care of.” She turned and left without looking back. As soon as she left, a nurse pulled Dr. Xie away to deal with a patient in the ER. Taking advantage of the fact that no one was around, I quietly followed Sarah. Walking past the hospital stairs, I heard familiar voices. “Sarah, why do you want to heal him? What does that make me?” Jake’s voice was hurt. Sarah was silent for a moment, then spoke ambiguously. “Jake, don’t be mad. You’re the only one I love. I just feel guilty about him. If he hadn’t saved me and ended up in a coma, I would have divorced him long ago.” “My reputation as a good wife has been praised by the public for the past few years, and the company’s performance has skyrocketed, so I can’t divorce him yet.” I stood there, stunned. My heart felt empty. She hadn’t divorced me because I was still useful to her. The sound of footsteps in the stairwell snapped me out of it. I turned around to go back the way I came. But as I walked back into the consulting room, I ran into Dr. Xie. “You… you’re awake?” Dr. Xie was shocked to see me moving freely. Realizing I was in trouble, I covered his mouth and pretended to be calm. “Please keep it a secret, Dr. Xie. I want to surprise my wife.” Dr. Xie looked at me suspiciously before nodding knowingly. When Sarah came back to pick me up, Dr. Xie didn’t reveal that I was awake. He just said that my condition wasn’t too serious and that I could wake up at any time. Sarah was overjoyed, and tears welled up in her eyes. I looked down, not wanting to try to figure out how much of her emotion was real, because I didn’t care anymore. When we got home, she carefully wiped me down, a smile playing on her lips. “Danny, the doctor said you’re about to recover. Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this day?” “When you wake up, I’m going to take you all over the country. We’re going to leave traces of our love everywhere we go.” She took out a new shirt she’d bought for me. Halfway through putting it on me, Jake opened our front door and sneaked in. He shoved me out of the bathroom and cornered Sarah inside. “Sarah, I want you to bathe me too. We haven’t tried a shower together yet. Come on.” “Hey, what are you doing? Danny’s watching!” Sarah punched him, blushing and angry, but not putting much strength into it. Seeing this, Jake glanced at me triumphantly, hooked his leg, and slammed the bathroom door shut. In the heat of the moment, Jake asked loudly, “Sarah, who do you love most?” Sarah, lost in pleasure, spoke without thinking. “You. You’ve filled the emptiness of these three years.” My face darkened, and I clenched my fists, smiling bitterly. They didn’t come out of the bathroom until late at night. Sarah realized I hadn’t finished putting on my clothes and her eyes turned red with panic. She quickly helped me get dressed. Seeing my face was pale from the cold, she felt unbearably guilty and, for the first time, didn’t agree to let Jake stay the night. “Jake, go home. Our wedding anniversary is in a few days. I’m going to livestream it at work. Don’t cause any trouble.” “…Okay.” Sarah pushed him out the door. Through the crack, I saw the resentment and darkness in his eyes. 3 I calculated that the wedding anniversary was the same day the military was supposed to pick me up. Jake was definitely going to cause trouble, and I’d already figured out what gift to give them. The day before the anniversary, Sarah pushed me to the mall to buy a suit. For some reason, paparazzi found out about our secret trip and swarmed us, their flashes blinding Sarah. “Ms. Sarah, your husband’s been in a coma for years. What’s the point of buying him a suit?” “Although you should be grateful for what he did, you’re too good for him. It’s a waste.” “He’s half-dead. It’s disgusting. Don’t you feel like he’s holding you back?” Hearing their barbed words, Sarah’s face darkened. She stood in front of me and fired back. “I think you guys are living on the coast. You’re meddling too much.” “I don’t just owe my husband a debt of gratitude. We have great memories together.” Sarah paused. Her eyes were full of tenderness as she looked at me. “When we were in college, my husband would wake up at 5 a.m., rain or shine, to wait in line for my favorite breakfast.” “After I started working, I was harassed by a client. He broke into the client’s house overnight to make him apologize to me.” “Later, my family’s business faced an unprecedented financial crisis. He quit his six-figure job to help my family through it.” “Now he’s in a coma saving me. I can’t give up on him. He deserves my lifelong commitment.” Her last words were choked with emotion. The paparazzi were speechless and left. I watched her wipe her eyes, sneering, and looked away. Who would have thought the woman who was publicly declaring her love for me had been getting hot and heavy with Jake on our bed last night? “Danny, I’m sorry. It’s because of me that you’re being ridiculed. To keep other reporters from camping out here, I’ll take you to the car.” Sarah looked at me with red eyes and gave me a sweet smile. She rushed me to the car. “Danny, wait for me in the car. I’m going to buy you two suits.” She got out of the car with a cold look on her face. I thought about it for a moment and quietly followed her. Around the corner on the second floor, Sarah pulled Jake out with a frosty expression. Even though she lowered her voice, I could clearly hear the gunpowder in her words. “Jake, don’t think I don’t know you called the reporters. Our relationship can’t be made public yet. Don’t overstep…” “Heh, just kidding. Why are you so mad? Let me cool you down.” Jake chuckled. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms, kissing her. “You…” The anger in her eyes dissipated, and a flush spread across her face. She glared at him resentfully, but her resistance weakened. I sneered, my eyes cold. I seemed to know what gift to give. I turned and went to the electronics section, bought what I needed, and quietly returned to the car. Finally, the wedding anniversary arrived. Early in the morning, Sarah dressed me up and pushed me in front of the camera to show our love to the world. Everyone seemed to want to know what she thought about the marriage. As soon as she went live, 100,000 people tuned in. “Women like Ms. Sarah are rare. She has a husband in a coma. What’s the difference between that and being a widow? But she hasn’t changed her mind in three years.” “Seeing them, I finally believe in true love.” The audience was singing her praises. Shares of Sarah Co. immediately jumped. Sarah lovingly cradled my face, ready to kiss me. “Danny, today is our third wedding anniversary. I’m still protecting you.” At the same time, the livestream reached peak viewership. Her phone on the table suddenly buzzed. Jake’s message popped up. “Sarah, I don’t want to bother you, but I think I have food poisoning. I’m in the office next door and can’t get up.” Sarah’s eyelashes fluttered, and she frowned. After hesitating, she quickly pulled away from me. Switching the camera, she looked at me apologetically and said softly, “Sorry, Danny. I have some company stuff to take care of. I’ll come back and keep you company later.” She turned and hurried away… Soon after she left, I patted the spot she’d touched and expressionlessly stood up from my wheelchair. Looking up at the camera, I smiled triumphantly. I’d already switched the livestream. The whole world could see what was happening next door. Sarah, goodbye. I hope you like the surprise I have for you. Bang! Sarah pushed open the door next door and ran in anxiously. “Jake, what’s wrong? Don’t scare me.” When she ran in, she found Jake, who was supposed to be dying, leisurely drinking red wine on the couch. “You tricked me?” She grit her teeth, her voice full of anger. Jake raised an eyebrow, sipped his wine, and pounced on her, pinning her to the couch. Without a word, he leaned down and transferred the wine from his mouth to hers. She choked, coughing, and a suspicious red spread across her face. “Jake, stop it!” “Haha, Sarah, I knew I was more important than that piece of trash Danny. As soon as I texted you, you came to my side.” “Everyone’s congratulating you, but they don’t know that I’m the one who sleeps with you every night.” Jake seemed especially excited today, groping her on the couch. Sarah couldn’t resist and bit her lip, suppressing her moans… Unbeknownst to them, everything was being filmed by the hidden camera I’d put in the window. Ten minutes later, an assistant rushed in, interrupting them with a flushed face. “Ms. Sarah, something’s wrong. Someone installed a live streaming camera here.” “And Mr. Carter’s gone!” “What?” Sarah sat up on the couch, her face pale.

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I felt a gentle hand stroking my cheek. Was it my wife, Sarah? How could it be? Sarah died just a few days ago. My heart leaped in shock, and I forced my eyes open. Going from darkness to sudden light stung my eyes. I squinted, uncomfortable, but desperate to see the person by the bed. 1. She stood bathed in what felt like an explosion of white light, her form hazy, almost a silhouette. As the stinging faded and my vision cleared, her features sharpened. Delicate eyebrows, almond-shaped eyes, and that habit of pressing her lips together slightly before breaking into a smile. It really was Sarah! Was she alive, or was I dead? Is this a dream? I stared, dumbfounded, at the living, breathing person before me. Then I heard her say, “It’s almost seven. Get up, Sleepyhead, Andy.” Sleepyhead, Andy. Hearing that familiar nickname, tears rolled down my cheeks without me even realizing it. I scrambled up and pulled my wife into a fierce hug. Through my own sobbing, I felt her warmth seep into me, heard her slightly exasperated voice asking what was wrong, right beside my ear. After a long moment, I managed to calm down. Right now, I couldn’t tell if Sarah dying in that plane crash was real, or just a terrible nightmare I’d had. I told her about it. She listened, laughing softly, then gently wiped the tears from my face— “You dream about what you worry about, huh? ‘Fess up, did you take out a big life insurance policy on me?” Hearing that, I laughed and pulled her close again, overwhelmed by the happiness of having her back, of loss reversed. I breathed in her familiar scent, sighing, “I was so scared of losing you…” Sarah patted my back comfortingly. “It was just a nightmare. You’re awake now, it’s okay.” She gently pulled away. “Come on, get up, or you’ll be late.” I grabbed my phone and checked the date again: December 5th, 2022, 7:03 AM. I vaguely remembered sitting by Sarah’s headstone, seeing the engraved letters. Sarah Miller (November 15, 1993 – December 5, 2022) A wave of confusion washed over me. …Was it really just a nightmare? I swung my legs out of bed and followed Sarah, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder, then touch her hand. She turned and hugged me, resting her chin on my chest— “Andy, I would never, ever leave you like that. It was just a dream.” “When you wake up, the pain from the dream fades away. Can you even clearly remember how it felt now?” I tried hard to recall the feelings from the dream. Seeing the news about the missing plane, watching her casket… no, the container with her ashes being prepared for interment, sitting on the damp, cold ground staring at her grave marker. All that crushing grief… it was starting to feel distant, fuzzy. I slowly shook my head. Seeing me shake my head, Sarah slipped out of my arms and headed towards the kitchen. “Then hurry up and get ready! Breakfast is almost done. I made pancakes.” She stood at the kitchen doorway and gave me a playful wink. Shaking off the lingering confusion, I asked, “Did you use hot water for the mix, or cold?” Sarah hesitated. “Cold… water? Isn’t cold better for dissolving the powder?” I walked into the kitchen and lifted the lid off the pan on the stove. A puff of steam cleared to reveal… well, a soupy, slightly sad-looking pancake. She looked up at me sheepishly— “Whoops, sorry! I just thought since you were working late, I’d make breakfast so you could sleep in a bit longer.” Working late? Suddenly, I remembered a detail from the nightmare. In the dream, I’d also had to work late, forcing me to cancel my ticket. I couldn’t go with Sarah on the plane. That flight to Boston… I remembered it was at 2 PM. I walked to the kitchen doorway and looked into the living room. Just like in the dream, there was a half-packed, open suitcase lying next to the sofa. My voice urgent, I asked, “Is it the two o’clock flight?” Sarah looked at me, puzzled, but nodded. A cold dread started spreading from the pit of my stomach. Could the plane crash, just like in my dream, actually happen? 2 I told Sarah about the dream again, insisting, over and over, that it felt like a premonition. The same late-night work, the same suitcase by the sofa, the same flight time. At first, Sarah patiently tried to reason with me. She said I had it backward. The work, the flight, the suitcase – those were all things that were real before I went to sleep. My subconscious had just woven them into a nightmare. Her logic made me waver for a second. But I was still terrified. What if…? That tiny chance it could actually come true. So I kept trying to persuade her, until Sarah finally lost her patience. She yelled, “You’ve been watching too many Final Destination movies! A premonition? Yeah, right, a premonition about bubblegum!” I opened my mouth to argue again, but she shot me a look, frowning impatiently. “Go to work, or deal with me. Your choice.” I wanted to say more, but I stopped myself. Finally, with dignity, demonstrating sound judgment, I chose… to go to work. Sitting on the subway car, I kept thinking about what Sarah said, about the subconscious. Maybe it was just my subconscious playing tricks. But… I had this nagging feeling, a memory from the nightmare, something that happened after I fell asleep. Something from the morning of December 5th. Something I did before getting on this subway… I felt like it was crucial. But what was it? I couldn’t remember. The automated voice announcing the next stop broke my train of thought. The crowd surged out like a receding tide, leaving the car emptier. I looked out at the platform sign revealed as people dispersed: Tech Center West. My stop was next. I stood up and walked towards the door, watching the ads flicker past outside the window. My mind uncontrollably drifted back to the nightmare details. In the dream, after leaving the cemetery, I’d walked forever, unable find a bus stop. The rain got heavier, the cold seeped into my bones, and I stumbled, dazed, into a subway station I’d never seen near the cemetery before. It was a weird station – silent, cold, completely empty. Trains waited on both sides, but only the one on the left had its lights on, doors wide open, as if waiting just for me. Soaked from the rain, head throbbing, I hadn’t even bothered to check the station name before getting on. … My thoughts kept looping, giving me a splitting headache. Outside the window, the advertisements had vanished. The subway plunged into an unnatural, thick darkness. The car suddenly became silent, like sinking into the deep ocean. Then, in the endless darkness stretching ahead, a single beam of light appeared. And in the light… was a girl? She was dressed all in black, hair pulled back in a ponytail, facing my direction. I couldn’t see her face clearly, but I felt like that blurred face under the eerie light was glaring at me, furious. The scene from my dream was happening again! Fear froze me in place. Suddenly, a fragment of memory flashed through my mind. I remembered a detail. When Sarah called me from the airport gate to say she was okay, she mentioned running into someone she knew. Who was it? Right, the daughter of her parents’ neighbors, Brenda White. I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm my racing heart. If Sarah ran into Brenda White at the gate this afternoon… then I absolutely could not let Sarah get on that plane. 3 Even though I’d made up my mind, I couldn’t focus at work. I fidgeted anxiously, barely able to sit still, until finally, lunchtime arrived. I choked down a few bites of food, then rushed out of the cafeteria, found a quiet corner, and dialed Sarah’s number. It rang for a long time before she picked up. I could faintly hear the noise of the airport terminal in the background. I quickly asked if she’d gotten her ticket okay, if the trip to the airport was fine, standard stuff. Then I got straight to the point: had she run into anyone she knew? “Someone I know? Who?” “Brenda White?” “Brenda?” Her voice sounded distant; I guessed she was looking around. After a moment, her voice came back clear. “Nope, haven’t seen her. Who told you she was flying back to Boston today too?” This was different from the dream. A wave of relief washed over me; the huge weight I’d been carrying lifted. I chuckled to myself, thinking, Seriously, believing in nightmares? Maybe I have watched Final Destination too many times. I mumbled some excuse about hearing it from someone, changed the subject, chatted for a few more minutes, and then hung up. That afternoon, I threw myself into my work. Just as I finished color-correcting a video and started the rendering process, I noticed the office had descended into a low buzz of chatter. Confused, I pulled out my phone. No signal. Somehow, it had been switched to airplane mode. The last message I’d received was from Sarah. “Just asked Brenda. She is going back to Boston today, but couldn’t get a plane ticket, so she’s taking the train instead.” I switched off airplane mode, reconnected to the Wi-Fi, and was about to reply when Mike from the next cubicle leaned over. “Andy, you seen the news? The afternoon flight to Boston… it’s gone missing.” I froze. I heard something shatter inside my head. “The flight… to Boston?” “Yeah, the one that left at two. Flight number was…” He scrolled on his phone for a second, then looked up at me, his eyes wide— “Holy crap, Andy! That was the flight I couldn’t get tickets for! I was just bitching about having to work late because I couldn’t get on it… Man, am I lucky—” I slowly stood up, the room spinning around me. All the emotions, all the memories, rushed back at once. I remembered identifying Sarah’s… what was left of her body, the rage I felt. Watching her become nothing but a box of ashes, the utter despair. How could I have risked it? How could I have let myself hope, only to watch Sarah walk towards death again? The helplessness inside me exploded. I bolted towards the office door, pushing with all my might against the heavy glass, and then— ice-cold water slammed into me. The force knocked me back, forcing me to let go of the door handle. Standing behind the glass door was a girl. Dressed in black, ponytail. I looked at her furrowed brow, heard her cold voice muffled through the glass— “Why did you let her get on the plane again?” 4 I sat bolt upright, gasping for air. As oxygen filled my lungs and my senses slowly returned, I felt sticky, drenched in sweat. A hand was rubbing my back, a voice murmuring softly near my ear. “Sarah?!” My voice came out raspy. She answered, leaning in to hug me. Tears instantly flooded my eyes. I remembered the girl in black who’d splashed water on me just before I woke up, how she’d dragged me into that empty subway station. As the subway started moving and my consciousness faded, I heard her say: “Don’t let her get on the plane again.” The plane? Right! The plane that had killed Sarah twice now. I pulled away from Sarah’s embrace and fumbled for my phone. The date displayed: December 5th, 2022, 7:03 AM. I was back again. On the morning of the day Sarah died. I looked at Sarah, saw the worried, sympathetic look on her face as she asked, “Bad dream?” I nodded automatically. Honestly, whether she knew the truth or not didn’t matter right now. What mattered was keeping her off that plane. No matter what. Sarah waited until I seemed calmer, then went back to the kitchen to finish the pancakes. Urged by her, I went into the bathroom. Brushing my teeth, I tried to figure out how to stop Sarah from getting on that flight. There seemed to be two options. One: stop Sarah from going to Boston altogether. Two: get her to use a different mode of transportation. The first option was basically impossible. Sarah was going to Boston because her younger brother, Ben, who was still in high school, had beaten up one of his teachers. He’d injured the teacher so badly the man was in a coma, hadn’t woken up yet. But Ben had also gotten stabbed by the teacher in the fight and was currently laid up in the hospital himself. When the police investigated who started it, Ben initially claimed the teacher had done something absolutely disgusting, and he’d only fought back to protect a girl. According to the investigation, besides the two of them, there was a middle-school-aged girl present at the scene. But when the police found the girl, she denied being there at all. And then, weirdly, as soon as Ben heard the girl denied being there, he completely changed his story too. He stopped mentioning protecting the girl. He just said he hit the guy out of a sense of justice, that his conscience was clear. Beyond that, he refused to say another word. Now, the teacher’s family was suing Ben for assault and battery, maybe even aggravated assault. The teacher was still in a coma, unable to give his side. But from talking to people who knew him, the teacher seemed like a quiet, well-mannered guy, well-liked, with a great reputation. Ben was eighteen. If he didn’t start telling the truth, things looked really bad for him. If he got convicted of felony assault, his life would be ruined. Ben’s parents were frantic, like ants on a hot pan. They kept calling us, begging us to come home and talk some sense into Ben, while also pressuring Ben to just tell the truth. But nothing worked. Ben just clammed up, repeating, “My conscience is clear.” We were worried sick about Ben too. We’d called him several times, tried reasoning with him, but got nowhere. Sarah was so stressed she couldn’t sleep at night. Meanwhile, the project I was on was nearing its deadline, and my boss wouldn’t approve any time off. Sarah was teaching a senior class heading towards graduation; finding a substitute teacher to cover for her was impossible. Finally, just two days ago, she managed to arrange for someone to cover her classes and got three days off. Telling her not to go back now? Absolutely no way. So, option one was out. I started thinking about option two.

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The wind screamed past my ears, tearing the breath from my lungs. A split second before the fall, a billionaire had claimed I was his long-lost granddaughter, whisking me away into a life of unimaginable wealth. He had casually tossed my mother a check with enough zeroes to buy a small island. Without a flicker of hesitation, she signed her name, shoving me out the door without once asking if I wanted to go. Later, my twin sister saw me on television, living in a sprawling mansion, flanked by a security detail. Jealousy is a venom that rots the brain. She used a tearful reunion as an excuse to visit, and the moment my back was turned, she shoved me off the sixteenth-floor balcony. Her face, contorted into a monstrous sneer, was the last thing I saw. “We have the exact same face! Why do you get to be the billionaire’s miracle? Once you’re dead, that empire is mine!” When I hit the pavement, the pain wasn’t just immense; it was an apocalyptic shattering of every nerve in my body. Blood pooled in my mouth, hot and thick. The heavy, metallic stench of iron filled my nostrils as my vision dimmed, my dying eyes locked on the tiny, frantic silhouette of my sister looking down from the penthouse. In those final, agonizing seconds, the truth of my “fairytale” reunion flashed before my eyes. The sterile rooms. The needles. The cage. If I ever get a second chance, I thought, the darkness swallowing me whole, I would rather die than let him take me again. 1 “Are you deaf? I told you to get your sister for dinner!” The shrill, grating voice of my mother, Brenda, shattered the silence. I stood frozen, my mind violently spinning. It wasn’t until a sharp kick landed on my shin that the sensory details of the room snapped into focus—the smell of stale cooking grease, the peeling wallpaper, the faded linoleum. I was back. I was standing in our cramped apartment, mere minutes before the billionaire and his lawyers knocked on our door. A tidal wave of euphoria crashed over me. But the real shock came when my twin sister, Riley, walked out of my bedroom. She was wearing my clothes—a faded, oversized band tee I usually slept in. The moment she met my eyes, a chilling smirk played on her lips. My gut instantly knew. She remembered, too. She had also been sent back. “Sweetheart, why are you wearing her rags? Won’t your skin break out?” Brenda asked, her brow furrowing in confusion. Riley only ever wore the good clothes. If a fabric wasn’t premium cotton or silk blends, she claimed it gave her a rash. So, for eighteen years, I wore the thrift store rejects and her cast-offs. Riley ignored Brenda’s concern, excitedly grabbing her arm. “Mom, that doesn’t matter right now. Come here. I need to tell you something.” She dragged Brenda into the tiny kitchen, their heads bent together in hushed, urgent whispers. Through the narrow doorway, I watched the skepticism on Brenda’s face melt away, replaced by a greedy, ear-to-ear grin that deepened the harsh lines around her mouth. Cold sweat prickled across my skin. Riley was going to steal my identity. She was going to volunteer to be the billionaire’s long-lost granddaughter. But would he buy it? Would he believe Riley was the one he was looking for? What if I was the one dragged away again? Three sharp knocks on the front door made me flinch. My heart hammered against my ribs. I made a silent vow right then and there: if he saw through her lie and tried to take me, I would throw myself out the window before I ever let him put me in his car. Better to end it on my own terms than endure the slow, torturous hell of my past life. Smack! A stinging slap across my cheek snapped my head to the side. Brenda glared at me, her voice a venomous hiss. “From this second on, you are your sister. You keep your mouth shut, you hear me? You say one word, and I’ll beat you half to death.” At the door, Riley pulled it open just a crack, peeking out with manufactured innocence. “Um, can I help you?” She was perfectly mirroring my quiet, timid voice from our past life. She even nailed my wide-eyed, hesitant stare. Mr. Hayes, the icy, suited secretary, stepped inside without asking, holding a thick leather portfolio. Behind him walked Arthur Kensington. Arthur’s sharp, sunken eyes scanned our decaying living room with unconcealed disgust. He lowered himself onto our ratty sofa like a king claiming a dirty throne, immediately doubling over in a fit of violent, wet coughing. Riley hurried over, playing her part. “Who are you? Why are you in our house? Get out before I call the cops!” Mr. Hayes adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses, looking Riley up and down before turning his attention to Brenda. “Ms. Miller. Please review these documents. Your daughter, Wren, is Mr. Kensington’s biological granddaughter. She was switched at birth in the hospital. Mr. Kensington’s health is failing, and he wishes to bring his sole heir home.” It was a poorly constructed lie, riddled with plot holes. The first time I heard it, I thought they were running a scam. Riley and I were identical twins. How on earth could only one of us be switched at birth? But before I could even process the absurdity, Brenda had snatched the supposed DNA test. She pretended to read the medical jargon, but her eyes were entirely locked on the document tucked behind it. The settlement agreement. If she let me go, Arthur was offering her a cool five million dollars as “compensation for her years of care.” Brenda didn’t hesitate. She didn’t ask for a pen; she grabbed the one from Hayes’s breast pocket and scrawled her name with trembling, frantic hands. She was vibrating with the high of a sudden, unearned fortune. “Mom?” I mumbled, playing my part perfectly, letting my voice crack with feigned confusion. “Shut up,” Brenda snapped, not even looking at me. “The DNA test is right here. You’re his granddaughter. No wonder I never could stand you—you aren’t even mine.” She turned to Arthur, her smile practically unhinged. “Mr. Kensington, I only have one daughter now, and that’s Riley. Please, take your girl home.” She couldn’t get rid of me fast enough. She didn’t question the logic of twins. She didn’t ask what I wanted, or if I was terrified to leave with strangers. She didn’t even wonder where her other daughter would theoretically be. Her eyes were glued to the check, terrified that if she blinked, the paper would evaporate. In my past life, I had clung to the doorframe, crying, begging her not to make me go. My fingernails had bled against the wood. She hadn’t even looked back. 2 I stood by the peeling radiator, watching the scene unfold with the detached chill of a ghost. Hayes scrutinized Riley, then let his gaze slide over to me. A shiver racked my spine. Mimicking Riley’s usual arrogant demeanor, I lifted my chin and glared right back at him, my expression radiating teenage hostility. “Which one of you is Wren?” Hayes asked, his voice smooth and clipped. His background check would have told him that Wren was the unloved one, the girl in the hand-me-downs. But because Riley had stolen my ratty t-shirt, he couldn’t tell us apart by our clothes. That was exactly why Arthur had chosen me in the first place. An unloved, neglected child is the easiest to sever from her roots. No one comes looking for the girl nobody wanted. Seeing Hayes hesitate, Riley quickly stepped in front of me, shielding me from their view. “I… I’m Wren,” she stammered, shrinking into herself. “Is it true? Am I really not my mother’s?” She sounded heartbreakingly fragile, but I could see the manic, triumphant gleam dancing in her eyes. After a tense beat, Hayes gave Arthur a subtle nod. Arthur descended into another agonizing coughing fit, his face turning a dangerous shade of plum. For a second, I thought he might just drop dead right there on our cheap rug. My heart was in my throat, terrified he would see through Riley’s act. But he bought it. He slowly nodded. Hayes handed the final copy of the agreement to Brenda. Arthur stood up, leaning heavily on his silver-tipped cane, and offered Riley a grandfatherly smile. “Wren, my dear. Come with your grandfather. Let me spend my final days making up for all the time we’ve lost.” Tears welled up in Riley’s eyes—a masterclass in manipulation. “Grandpa! You finally found me.” She threw herself into Arthur’s arms, but not before shooting me a vicious, gloating smirk over his shoulder. “Sir, we need to leave,” Hayes interrupted, checking his watch. Riley pulled back, wiping her eyes. “Grandpa, could I come by later tonight? I need to say goodbye to my mom. Even if she didn’t love me, she kept a roof over my head. I want to do this the right way.” Arthur frowned slightly, but the performance won him over. He patted her hand. “Very well. I will leave a driver for you. Don’t be late.” Riley nodded furiously, walking them to the door like the perfect, obedient heiress. 3 “Oh my god, honey! It actually worked! They believed you!” The door hadn’t even clicked shut before Brenda started shrieking. Her hands shook so violently the five-million-dollar check made a frantic, fluttering sound in her grip. “Five million! Five million dollars for absolutely nothing!” “Mom, listen to me,” Riley said, dropping the timid-girl act immediately. Her voice was sharp, commanding. “He thinks I’m Wren. You need to get her out of here. Now. Give her some cash and her college acceptance letter. Tell her to leave town today.” “Why?” Brenda asked, distracted by the zeroes. “Because we can’t have loose ends!” Riley hissed. “Once she’s gone, you take this money and buy a luxury condo across the city. Cut your phone line. Even if she comes back, she won’t be able to find you.” They were standing less than ten feet away from me, loudly conspiring how to erase my existence. I couldn’t help it; a dark, quiet joy bloomed in my chest. Walking away from this nightmare was going to be so much easier than I thought. “But… she is your sister,” Brenda murmured, the check lowering slightly. For a fraction of a second, I thought a dormant, maternal instinct had finally flickered to life. Then she sighed. “If she leaves, who’s going to do all the chores around here?” And there it was. The drop from heaven to hell. For half a breath, I thought I was a daughter. I was just losing an unpaid maid. It was liberating, honestly, to let the last shred of hope I had for her love finally die. “Mom, you have five million dollars! You can hire a live-in housekeeper!” Riley argued, exasperated. “Don’t forget, the billionaire wanted her!” Seeing Brenda waver, I decided to give them the final push. “Wait,” I said, stepping forward, my voice trembling with fake indignation. “Were those men looking for me? I’m the real granddaughter? How could you lie to him, Riley? He’s dying! He just wants to see his real family! I’m going to go find him!” I bolted toward the front door. Riley lunged, grabbing a fistful of my shirt. I was chronically malnourished and built like a bird; she easily yanked me backward. Her face darkened, a vicious sneer twisting her features. “You take one step out that door, and I’ll break your legs. I am the heiress now. You are never, ever stealing my luxury life again.” Together, Brenda and Riley shoved me down the short hallway and threw me into my bedroom, locking the door from the outside. To sell the performance, I pounded on the cheap wood. “Let me out! Please! You can’t do this!” “Give it up!” Riley yelled through the door. “Get out of this city and don’t ever let me see your face again! If you try to ruin this for me, I’ll make sure the Kensington family destroys you!” Her footsteps retreated. Once I was sure they were gone, my hands dropped from the wood. I slid down the door until I hit the floor, my tense muscles finally going slack. My shirt was plastered to my back with cold sweat. Riley thought she had stolen a golden ticket. She had only seen the paparazzi photos from my past life—the designer clothes, the galas, the pristine smile. She had no idea what was happening behind the velvet ropes. A dying billionaire searching for a lost granddaughter. It was the greatest lie ever told. A dark, bitter smile stretched across my face. Fortunately, someone else was going to take the fall for me this time. I just hoped Riley enjoyed her “luxury life” when she finally realized what it actually cost. 4 After two hours of muffled scheming, Riley left to meet her driver. A few minutes later, the lock clicked, and Brenda opened my door. On the kitchen table sat a neat stack of cash. Maybe twenty thousand dollars. My mother, true to form, was cheap to her very core. She had just been handed five million dollars, and parting with twenty grand looked like it was physically causing her pain. “Your sister is right,” Brenda said, refusing to meet my eyes. “Take this money and get the hell out.” She scurried into her bedroom and came back out, tossing a few items onto the table next to the cash. My birth certificate, my social security card, and my crumpled acceptance letter to the Rhode Island School of Design. Things I treated like sacred relics, she tossed like garbage. The day that RISD letter arrived, she had snatched it from my hands, threatening to burn it. I had applied entirely to out-of-state schools, desperate for any excuse to put a thousand miles between us. I thought she had thrown it in the trash years ago. My hands trembled violently as I picked up the thick envelope. I hadn’t seen this letter in my past life. I never got the chance. And now, holding it, the reality of my freedom finally sank in. “Stop looking so pathetic,” Brenda sneered. “Take your crap and leave. As of today, I don’t have a second daughter. And don’t come crying to me when you fail. You’re cut out of the will. You aren’t getting a dime when I’m old.” As if I’d ever come back to wipe her drool, I thought. “Mom,” I said, my voice shockingly steady. “Are you saying twenty thousand dollars is the buyout price for our entire relationship?” She stiffened. “Because that old man gave you five million,” I continued, leaning casually against the table. “And we both know his real granddaughter is standing right here.” Since Riley was already gone, Brenda was stripped of her strategist. She was on her own, and she wasn’t smart. “What are you implying?” Brenda hissed, her face flushing. “That money is mine! You little ungrateful bitch—”

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Ever since my wife switched jobs, she started playing these deadly “jokes” on me. Small stuff, like kissing me into a chokehold, or covering my head while I slept. Then bigger things, like mixing my meds with booze, or handcuffing me and trying to push me underwater. Every time I barely escaped, she’d just grin and say, “Just messing with you! Isn’t it exciting?” I brushed it off as her acting out, didn’t push it. But then, during a camping trip, she secretly brought back snake eggs. I ended up tangled and bitten to death by venomous snakes. She felt zero guilt over my death. Turned right around and spent the night wrapped around her boss. “Your husband kicked the bucket just like that? I wasn’t done having fun! Guy couldn’t handle a little rough play, huh?” Only after dying did I learn my life was just a game piece for her to impress her boss. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day we were supposed to leave for that camping trip. This time, I’d be the one putting snake eggs in her bag. 1 “Honey, pleeeease say yes! I’ve never been camping before, the wilderness sounds so thrilling!” “And there’s a reward tonight!” she purred, pulling three sets of skimpy lingerie out of her suitcase. The same scene played out in my head. I realized I’d been reborn. Seeing my lack of reaction, she immediately slipped into a bunny outfit and threw herself at me. “Ooh! Hubby, I’m sooo cold, hold me tight!” Looking at her trying to be seductive, memories of my past life flooded back. Revulsion churned in my stomach. It was just disgusting. In my past life, ever since she changed jobs, she was like a different person. Kisses turned into chokeholds, sleep meant being smothered, and where she learned about mixing dangerous pills with alcohol or handcuffing someone near water, I had no idea. Every single life-threatening moment, she just laughed it off. I thought she was just being difficult. Then, chasing more “excitement,” she insisted on dragging me camping at Shadow Creek Preserve. While I was setting up the tent, she snuck off and brought back Diamondback Rattlesnake eggs. When night fell, she deliberately left me alone on the mountain. The rattlesnakes, drawn by the scent, found me. Unprepared, I was their target. With my last ounce of strength, I dialed her number. All I heard were her moans tangled with a strange man’s grunts. That night, she was wearing this exact outfit, screwing her boss in the car, completely ignoring whether I lived or died up on that mountain. Her ecstatic cries drowned out my pained gasps as the rattlesnakes coiled tighter, biting, killing me. When she saw my cold corpse, there wasn’t a flicker of remorse. The man kicked my body dismissively. “Your husband died just like that? I wasn’t finished playing! Couldn’t take a little action, huh?” “Well, I haven’t had enough action either. You planning on finishing the game tonight?” Excited, the man swept her up. “What do you think?” They went back to the car, screwing all night long. Afterward, she twisted the truth, slandering me, claiming I’d secretly gone camping with someone else behind her back, looking for cheap thrills. My death became gossip fodder – the price of cheating. I stared at her, numb. We’d been in love for four years. I’d cherished her, put her on a pedestal. But she’d tried to kill me, again and again, just to please another man. My heart was dead to her now. Hatred, like poison, began to spread through me. “Okay, fine. I’ll go with you. Now change back into normal clothes,” I said, forcing calm, suppressing the fury inside. A flicker of triumph crossed her eyes. “Great! You start packing, I need to do my makeup.” “I don’t have much to pack. I’ll run out and grab some fruit and snacks for the trip.” “See? Hubby always thinks of everything.” I used the chance to go downstairs. Besides fruit, I bought some fake eggs, the kind you use for crafts, perfect for making realistic-looking snake eggs. This time, it was my turn to put the snake eggs in her bag. Let them taste despair. 2 I was packed and ready. She emerged, face plastered with heavy makeup. Ever since switching jobs, she, who rarely wore makeup before, was always fully done up. I never suspected a thing. Even encouraged her to embrace her beauty. Thinking back now, I basically helped put the horns on my own head. Only when she slid into the passenger seat did I see what she was wearing under her coat: a short skirt and black stockings. “You’re wearing that little? It’s going to be freezing up in the mountains.” “With you here, I won’t be cold,” she purred, placing my hand on her thigh. “Don’t you think it’s convenient?” A small smile touched my lips. “Yeah, very convenient.” Convenient for seducing other men. Shadow Creek Preserve was over twenty miles from the city. By the time we arrived, it was already afternoon. I carried the gear and food, forging a path ahead. She trailed behind, phone in hand, typing and giggling, obviously chatting with someone. “Honey, this way! Who are you texting that’s making you so happy?” She realized she’d taken a wrong turn, gave an awkward laugh, and headed towards me. “Oh, nobody~ Just thinking about spending the night outdoors gets me all excited, hehe!” Right. Excited about hooking up with someone else tonight, or excited about getting me killed? I picked up the pace towards the summit. Once there, I dropped the gear but didn’t immediately start setting up the tent. Grabbing her backpack, I ducked into the dense woods. “Honey, where are you going? Set up the tent first!” she called out, hurrying after me. “Babe, ate something bad, gotta take care of business! Wait here, I’ll be right back!” I ran fast, not slowing until her voice faded. After cautiously checking my surroundings, I quickly found the rattlesnake nest. And a clutch of eggs. Remembering the two thirteen-foot rattlers coiling around me in my past life… the pain like a million needles drilling into bone, my chest crushed so tight every breath was agony… I shuddered involuntarily, then decisively pulled out her lingerie from my pocket. Carefully, I wrapped the snake eggs in the fabric, placed them in her bag, and retreated quickly. But I ran right into her on my way back. “Honey, what are you doing in here? Did you eat something bad too?” She didn’t answer, her eyes fixed on me. “Why did you bring my bag in here?” I quickly took the bag off my back and slung it over her shoulder. “Came in such a rush, forgot to put it down.” “Good thing you had tissues in here, though. Otherwise, I would’ve had to call you.” She looked impatient. “Alright, let’s just get out of here and set up the tent. Don’t waste my time.” “Okay, babe. Did you need to go? I found a spot back there…” “Why are you being so chatty?” “Hey, I found this weird egg just now. Look, isn’t it pretty?” I pulled the fake egg out of my coat pocket. She turned, her expression shifting from annoyance to shock, then poorly concealed delight. “Looks like a bird egg. Honey, let’s fry it up when we make dinner.” “Are you sure?” I held the fake egg out towards her. “Seems like a waste to eat it.” She backed away quickly. “It’s a waste not to eat wild game! Just pack it carefully, don’t break it.” “Whatever you say, honey.” I put the fake egg back in my pocket, pretending to protect it. She visibly relaxed and hurried out of the woods ahead of me. 3 After coming out of the woods, whether I was setting up the tent or talking to her, she kept her distance. Either taking pictures or wandering off “looking for signal.” Just as I wanted. She didn’t linger near the tent site. I deliberately took until dark to finish setting up the tent. While gathering firewood, I overheard her on the phone. “Are you at the base of the mountain yet?” “Don’t worry! Everything’s taken care of.” “I just can’t wait to see you!” Clutching the firewood, I felt a surge of grim satisfaction. Finally, she’s leaving. Go on, take the snake eggs and go find your lover. I guarantee it’ll be very exciting for both of you! “Oh no, honey! I left the most important thing in the car! Toss me the keys, quick!” I had just gotten the fire going when she called out, her bag already slung over her shoulder, standing several yards away. The same escape excuse as last time. “Honestly, you…” I stood up deliberately. “I’ll go with you.” She looked slightly panicked. For every step I took towards her, she took one back. “No, no, it’s fine! I can go myself.” “You get dinner started, I’m starving. Remember to fry that egg first! I’ll be right back.” “It’s already dark. Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” She refused again and again. I finally just tossed her the keys. “Alright then. Hurry back.” If I didn’t let her go now, the snakes might show up too soon. That would ruin everything. “Love you, hubby!” she chirped, blowing me a kiss before turning to leave. No, more like, before turning to die. I didn’t reply, just waved goodbye, watching her walk away. Goodbye! My dear wife. Once her figure completely vanished, I quickly took sulfur powder and snake repellent from my pack and sprinkled several circles around the tent, just in case. With that done, I unfolded the camp table, laid out the roast chicken, beer, peanuts, and grapes I’d bought earlier, and sat by the fire, ready for the show. I set up a small tripod, placed my tablet on it, angled perfectly. Calculating the time, it should be starting about now. My heart hammered as I opened the app. Soon, my wife’s shameless moans filled the quiet night air via the tablet’s speaker. “Whoa there, Mr. Henderson, what’s the rush? Ow… you’re hurting me!” (Mr. Henderson, a good generic boss name instead of Mark for now, keep Mark/Finn reveal for later) That was the feed from the hidden camera I’d installed in the car this morning, connected to my phone. I never thought I’d witness my own wife starring in such a film. Watching the woman I loved betraying me with another man in my own car… a bitter taste filled my mouth. It wasn’t pleasant. But then I remembered: tonight was their last night. Suddenly, the anger subsided. “You said you had a surprise for me? Where is it? I don’t see anything.” The man, Mark Henderson, was like a starved wolf, tearing into his prey. Distracted, she fumbled with one hand, reaching for the bag on the floor, trying to pull out the lingerie. With considerable effort, she yanked the clothing free. But as it came out, something else seemed to tumble out with it, rolling near her feet. Mark stepped on it, crushing it. 4 “What’s the theme tonight? Fancy props?” “You’ll see when I change.” She straddled his lap and started changing, oblivious to the sticky mess on the floor mat. “God, it’s hot in here! Let’s leave the door open, nobody’s around anyway,” Mark grunted, pushing the car door ajar. “What if someone comes?” she asked, suddenly cautious. “If you’re scared of people, why come out to the wilderness?” Mark snapped, taking his frustration out on her. “Not just the car. Later, we’re doing it by the roadside, in the trees.” “Okay, okay, whatever you want.” “Did you take care of things or not? How come your husband hasn’t called yet?” They finally remembered I existed. Not wanting to disappoint them, I immediately dialed her number. “Should be fine? I saw him with my own eyes… Oh, his call’s coming in.” “Make it loud for me!” Mark ordered. “Chloe! Help me! You gotta come save me! I’m being…” As soon as she picked up, I started screaming in fake agony. Just like last time, her response was panting moans. “Hubby, I’m kinda… busy right now… Can’t save you~” “What are you doing? Who are you with? Answer me!” My feigned rage was met with dismissal. She simply tossed the phone aside and went back to her pleasure. “Your wife said she’s busy, can’t you understand plain English?” Mark’s voice sneered through the phone. “Who are you? You goddamn animals, I’ll kill you!” “Kill me? Hahaha!” Mark laughed mockingly. “We’re right here in the car. Come and get us if you’ve got the guts.” “Since you heard everything, I’ll just tell you straight,” Chloe chimed in, her voice dripping with malice. “This whole camping trip was about getting rid of you. But you’re the one who supposedly brought the snake eggs. Your death is your own damn fault, got nothing to do with me!” She admitted everything without me even having to press her. “For the sake of our marriage, if you come save me right now, I’ll pretend tonight never happened.” I offered one last, empty chance. “Tch! Who wants to be married to you! I’ve been waiting for you to die! Only when you’re dead can we be together openly.” “Alright then! Chloe, you said it. Don’t come crying and begging me for forgiveness later.” Things had reached this point; no need to play games anymore. “Me? Crying and begging you?” She didn’t know whether to laugh or scream. “You’re about to die and you’re talking nonsense? Okay, then I beg you, don’t haunt me as a ghost, hahaha~” “Why would I die? The ones who are going to die are you two.” They dismissed it as angry ranting, ignoring me, returning to their ‘game’. “Ah!” Suddenly, she let out a piercing shriek. “Ow! That hurts! Why did you pinch my leg?” Mark sounded confused. “Your hand feels freezing.” “My hands are on your waist, I didn’t move!” The pleasure vanished, replaced by a sharp pain in her calf, accompanied by a chilling coldness. She looked down, scratched at it— “AHH! SNAKE! There’s a snake on my leg!” The snake, drawn by the scent of the crushed eggs and the warmth, had slithered in through the open door. Familiar smells triggered its aggressive attack. It bit savagely into her calf, its body instantly coiling around her leg, tightening its grip. She screamed uncontrollably, wanting to grab it but terrified, trying to shake it off but it wouldn’t budge. The sudden terror turned Mark limp with fear. He stopped moving, shoved her violently away, grabbed his clothes, and scrambled to open his door to escape. In panic, she latched onto his arm, shaking her leg frantically while begging, “Where are you going? Get this snake off me!”

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The day of Annie’s accident, Ethan was with his old flame getting her nails done. I called him, begging him to come to the hospital, to see our daughter one last time. But Ethan just accused me of being cruel, of cursing our own daughter. I pleaded again and again, but he wouldn’t budge. Meanwhile, his old flame was posting on her Instagram story, showing off her new manicure. “This goofball sat here like a statue waiting for me for three hours. He said he likes pink nails on me, what do you guys think? Cute?” I stared at my phone for a long time, suddenly exhausted. “Real cute. Tell him to come home and sign the divorce papers.” 1. My daughter was rushed into the operating room, covered in blood. I stood outside, my legs trembling. Because I’d held her, I was drenched in her blood, my mind replaying the image of her lying in a pool of it. My knees gave out, and I collapsed onto the floor. Today was Annie’s birthday. I’d only stepped out for a moment to buy a cake, and she was hit by a car. The driver yelled “serves her right” and sped off – a hit-and-run. There were no cameras on that stretch of road. The police arrived quickly. I somehow managed to call 911. On the way here, I tried calling my husband, Ethan, but his phone went straight to voicemail. A doctor came out, his expression grim. He handed me the critical condition forms. “The surgery is extremely high-risk. You need to prepare yourself.” Hearing those words felt like a giant, invisible hand squeezing my heart, making it hard to breathe. “Doctor, please, you have to save my daughter! Please! She’s only five! She’s just five years old!” He hesitated, then urged me to sign the consent forms quickly. I forced myself to stay calm, to hold back the tears, and signed my name with a shaking hand. I tried calling Ethan again. Even though we were fighting, this was about Annie. He couldn’t be that cold. After several tries, he finally picked up. Like finding a lifeline, I burst into tears. “Ethan… get to the hospital! Now! Annie… Annie was in an accident!” There was silence on the other end for a moment, then his voice, cold. “Sarah, that’s enough. How could you be so twisted? What kind of stunt are you pulling now? Cursing Annie like that.” He didn’t believe me? I choked back tears, trying to sound calm. “Ethan, I’m not kidding. Annie was hit by a car. She’s at City General right now. Please, I’m begging you, just come!” “The doctor… the doctor already said it’s critical…” I stammered out. He was clearly annoyed. “Last time it was a fever, now it’s a car accident. Stop the drama, Sarah. I have a company party tonight. I’ll bring her a cake later. Gotta go!” Before I could say another word, the line went dead. I stared at my phone in despair. He just hung up? Even if we were fighting, this was our child! My hand clutching the phone felt ice-cold. Tears dripped onto the screen. The light above the operating room door was still on. I stared at it, my mind drifting back. Ethan was a model. He had this arrogant air about him, fiercely driven in everything he did. That’s what drew me in. He was struggling at first, barely getting any gigs. I was his biggest fan. After relentlessly pursuing him, he finally gave me a chance. He said, “I’m not very good at loving someone.” Tears streamed down my face, but I smiled and nodded. It’s okay, I told him, I’ll love you enough for both of us. I hustled for him, sending out his resume everywhere, networking, getting him gigs, always asking them to keep my involvement a secret. He was ambitious; he seized every opportunity. After we got together, he took care of everything for me, treated me well. He knew I wanted to pursue photography, so he used his savings to send me to school. As life got better and his career took off, he got busier, but he was still good to me. But I always sensed a distance in his kindness. It wasn’t that he couldn’t love; it was like someone else already lived permanently in his heart. The day Annie had a dangerously high fever, I panicked. I called him countless times. He didn’t come home until the middle of the night, after her fever had already broken. He accused me of lying to get his attention. Later, I found out that Chloe, his old flame, had returned to the country that day. I secretly followed him to the airport when he went to pick her up. Chloe was crying hysterically. Without a second thought, Ethan pulled her into his arms. I clearly heard him promise to protect her from now on. Later, they went to an amusement park. Just as they were about to get on the Ferris wheel, I called him, demanding he come home. Back when we were dating, I’d playfully asked him to ride a Ferris wheel with me. I’d heard that if a couple kissed at the top, they’d stay together forever. He’d called me childish, saying he hated places like that. Trembling, I asked him why he was going now. The irritation in his eyes was the last straw. We argued. He shut down, coldly throwing these words at me before starting the silent treatment: “Sarah, I thought you were different from other women. Turns out you’re just as unreasonable.” “Chloe saved my life. I owe her.” The sound of another family crying nearby snapped me back to the present. I frantically stared at the operating room door. Annie was still in surgery. My heart ached so much I couldn’t breathe. It’s okay, it’s okay, as long as he still loves our daughter. But now… My hand trembled uncontrollably. My heart clenched. My Annie. I sank to my knees, praying desperately for her safety. But my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I pulled out my phone, intending to record a video, to prove I wasn’t joking. But then I saw a post from one of his colleagues. They were at a company event, but he wasn’t in the photos. The next second, his old flame, Chloe, posted on her Instagram. A picture of her freshly manicured nails. “This goofball sat here like a statue waiting for me for three hours. He said he likes pink nails on me, what do you guys think? Cute? 😉” He had liked the post. I zoomed in on the photo, my hand shaking slightly. In the reflection of the nail salon window, I saw Ethan’s hand. He was still wearing the watch I gave him last year. A chill spread through my body. My hand fell limply to my side. Our daughter was fighting for her life in surgery, and he was sitting with this woman while she got her nails done? Just then, a text from him finally arrived. “Sarah, have you had enough of your games?” “Don’t think sending me random hospital pictures you found online will make me believe you.” “Stop teaching Annie to lie with you. I’m really sick of this.” “I told you I’m at a company party. Why are you always so suspicious? Where do you think the money you spend comes from? Think about that.” Before, I would have blown up his phone, demanding why he lied to me. But now, reading his self-righteous excuses, I just felt tired. 2. My gaze drifted, landing on his hand in the photo’s reflection. Right after Annie was born, I was sitting on the couch holding her when I saw a picture of pink nails I really liked. I wanted him to go with me to get them done. He glanced at it dismissively, his voice flat. “Sarah, you’re a mother now. Pink is so… delicate. Is that really appropriate? Besides, I don’t like flashy nails on you.” His words deflated me. I looked down at the baby in my arms and quietly let it go. I thought he just genuinely disliked nail polish. Now it seemed he just disliked it on me. The doctor came out of the OR. I stumbled to my feet, my voice trembling. “Doctor, how is my daughter?” I fought back tears. The doctor shook his head sadly. “I’m so sorry. We did everything we could. Your daughter has something she wants to say. You should go in.” My lips trembled. I barely managed to stay upright. Annie lay on the hospital bed, her face pale. I held her hand, struggling to keep myself together. Annie’s lips moved. I read her lips. She wanted to see Daddy. I wiped away a tear, forcing a smile. I told her I’d bring Daddy right over. I frantically tried calling Ethan, only to discover he’d blocked my number. All the blood rushed to my head. Annie was fading fast. She wasn’t crying or fussing, just looking at me. The pain in my chest was suffocating. I thought of the only other way to reach Ethan. I dialed Chloe’s number. Her loud, cheerful laugh came through the phone. “Sarah? What’s up?” I fought to control my voice, telling her Annie was dying, that Ethan needed to come to the hospital to see her one last time. Please. He had to come. But I never expected Ethan to grab the phone, his voice laced with impatience. “Sarah, you’ve really lost it! You call yourself a mother? How can you curse your own child like that!” “You sound like a lunatic right now!” I sobbed quietly. Through the phone, I heard Chloe’s coy voice. “Ethan, she sounds really upset. Maybe you should go? I can manage dinner myself.” “Don’t worry about it,” Ethan replied. “It’s probably nothing serious. She’s just putting on a show for me, she pulled this stunt last time too, and Annie was fine. I’m staying with you tonight.” Panic seized me. What if he didn’t come? I raised my voice. “Ethan, if you don’t come right now, we’re getting a divorce.” It was the only leverage I had left. Silence on the other end. Finally, he relented, though his voice was cold. “Wait for me.” I hung up immediately and sent him the hospital address. Annie was in so much pain, but she didn’t cry. She opened her mouth slightly. “Mommy… don’t cry… An… nie… loves Mommy.” Tears streamed down my face, my chest feeling crushed by a heavy weight. Looking at her little face, so much like Ethan’s, brought a fresh wave of bitterness. After we got together, I realized I was just Chloe’s replacement. Chloe had gotten married. He’d only agreed to be with me out of spite. Now Chloe was divorced and back, and that light was back in his eyes. Clutching my daughter’s blood-stained hand, I felt utterly broken. 3. No matter what, I would endure it for Annie. But I never imagined… Annie didn’t make it long enough to see Ethan. I paced the hospital corridor, checking the time over and over. When the devastating news finally reached me, my body went rigid, as if the world had fallen away. I couldn’t hold back anymore. I collapsed, sobbing uncontrollably. How… how could this happen… Whether he was coming from his office or Chloe’s place, it was only a ten-minute drive. He couldn’t even spare ten minutes? My heart clenched painfully, making it impossible to breathe. Just then, Chloe’s Instagram updated again. Her caption: “The silly goose made me a four-course meal! Told him I couldn’t possibly eat it all, but he insisted I’m too thin. Cleaned my plate! ” Ethan’s comment below: “Happy if you eat more.” My thumb slipped and liked the post. She immediately sent me a private message. “Sarah, Ethan was worried I wouldn’t eat, so he insisted on staying with me Sorry! He’ll make it up to Annie tomorrow, okay?” I could practically picture her smug expression. In that instant, my heart felt like it had plunged into ice water. I raised my hand, wiped my tears, and deleted her contact information. My fingernails dug into my palms, the pain spreading through my core. Overnight, I had lost everything. I accompanied Annie’s body to the funeral home. It was crowded, too many people needing arrangements. Annie had to lie alone in a refrigerated drawer, waiting. I didn’t cry. I didn’t make a scene. I just sat quietly outside the funeral home all night. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Annie’s face contorted in pain. I felt nothing, just numb. Only one thought remained. Divorce. I want a divorce. I handled everything and went home as the sky began to lighten at the crack of dawn. He was back. I hadn’t turned on the lights. He jumped when he saw me. He froze for a second, his expression slightly awkward. “It got really late last night. I didn’t want to wake you and Annie, so I didn’t come home.” “I have to leave for a business trip soon, can you pack a couple of outfits for me?” Always ordering me around, just like usual. When I didn’t move, he walked towards me. My face must have looked awful. He clearly didn’t understand, stepping closer, trying to placate me. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting. Last night, she was really upset—” I lifted my hand and slapped him across the face with all my strength. His expression turned ugly. He raised his voice. “Sarah! Are you crazy? You hit me?” “And you sent Annie back to your parents’, didn’t you? Can you stop being so unreasonable? Stop being jealous all the time! Chloe just got back, she has no family here but me.” I didn’t say anything. He lost his patience, dragging me onto the sofa, fumbling with his belt, kissing me roughly. I bit him. “Get off me!” The taste of blood filled my mouth. Just then, I saw the hickey on his neck. The blatant mark sent a sharp pain through my heart, stealing my breath. But his face was cold. “Sarah, what’s the act? You used Annie to lure me back, isn’t this what you wanted all along? Fine. I’ll give it to you.” He roughly tore at my dress, as if sex was some kind of compensation. Seeing I’d stopped resisting, his movements became gentler. “Sarah, stop being unreasonable, okay? Or I’ll really lose my patience.” “Sarah, can’t you just yield a little? Why do you have to be so stubborn?” My body flinched slightly. I didn’t fight back anymore. My voice was flat. “Annie’s gone.” He didn’t seem to hear me, still tearing at my clothes. Tears streamed silently down my face. Just then, Chloe pushed the door open and walked in. She wore a victor’s smile, covering her mouth coyly. “Ethan, what’s taking you so long? It’s cold downstairs, so I came on up.” She saw us, her expression faltering for a split second, then she strutted over in her heels. “Oh… Sarah’s here too? Weren’t you supposed to be at the hospital? See, Ethan? You know her so well. She really was lying to you.” Ethan seemed to tacitly agree with her. Her casual words cut me like knives. My head snapped towards her. I saw a matching, glaring hickey on her neck too. Out all night, hickeys on both of them. No explanation needed. I snapped, biting down hard on his arm. He cried out in pain, releasing me. I forced back tears. “Ethan, why would you humiliate me like this?” He looked bewildered but moved to stand beside Chloe, rubbing her hand, his tone reproachful towards her. “Chloe, I told you to wear more, didn’t I? Your hands are freezing, just like a little girl’s.” She pouted playfully. “Ethan, as long as you’re here, I’ll never be cold.” “You promised you’d always protect me. When our baby is born, you’ll protect them too, right?” Ethan’s expression softened incredibly. I heard him reply, “Okay.” He said okay? He… how could he? Baby? What baby? I looked at Chloe, who was shyly cradling her stomach. In that instant, my world collapsed. He tucked her hair behind her ear, not even looking at me. I straightened my clothes and stood up, my expression numb, my hands hanging limply at my sides. Tears fell, fat and heavy. “Ethan, you’re sick. You’re seriously sick. You didn’t deserve such a wonderful daughter.” Mentioning Annie finally made him look at me. He crossed his arms, leaning back slightly, his eyes cold, his tone impatient. “Go get Annie from your parents’ house.” “Sarah, if you keep acting this paranoid, maybe Chloe should take care of her for a while. Chloe likes kids more than you do.” He called me paranoid. Before, he would have said, It’s okay, Sarah, I’ll reassure you, I only love you. Memories sliced through me like razors, leaving me bleeding pain. Tears streamed down my face. “Ethan, you don’t get another chance. You’ll never get the chance. Annie’s dead.” Chloe tugged at his sleeve, still fanning the flames. “Ethan, listen to her! How can she curse her own child like that? I would never.” His expression remained cold, still convinced I was lying. Until I pulled the death certificate from my bag. Ethan’s face began to change. He took the report, his body staggering back a step.

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