Category: English

I bought a used laptop online, expecting a beat-up machine to get me through the school year. What arrived was the latest, high-end model, brand new out of the box. I opened it up, and my jaw hit the floor. The wallpaper was a photo of me. The password was my birthday. Just as I was wondering if I had a secret admirer or a stalker, my phone blew up. The seller was spamming me with frantic texts: “Dude! I sent the wrong one! That’s my sister’s brand-new laptop!” “That wasn’t the one for sale! Oh my god, she’s going to kill me.” “Did you see the guy on the wallpaper? That’s her future husband. She’s obsessed with him.” “Please, for the sake of true love, can you send it back?” 1 My four-year-old laptop finally gave up the ghost right before payday. I was broke. I teach third grade; “broke” is my default setting. I scoured eBay for four days until I found a listing that fit my sad little budget. To save even more money, I decided to shoot my shot. I pulled out the metaphorical machete: “Would you take $200?” The listing was for $500. I expected to be blocked or cursed out. Instead, the seller replied instantly: “Sure. Free shipping, too.” I felt like I’d encountered a benevolent god. I sent a string of generic, over-the-top compliments to the default avatar profile: “You are an angel! May you win the lottery! May you get a promotion! May your crush fall in love with you!” After a pause, she replied: “I hope so.” I paid immediately. The seller messaged: “We’re in the same city. Can you pick it up?” “Totally.” A few minutes later: “Actually, something came up. I have to go out of town. I’ll have my family courier it to you tomorrow.” The next day, I came home from school to find a package. I opened it, and my smile froze. This wasn’t the gray brick I ordered. This was a Rose Gold, top-of-the-line beast. It cost ten times what I paid. Confused, I hit the power button. The screen lit up. And there I was. It was a photo of me from high school, standing under a cherry blossom tree, holding an ice cream cone, waving at the camera. I looked young, happy, and full of life. Unlike the current me, who looks like a walking corpse fueled by caffeine. Why did a stranger have my photo as their wallpaper? Was this a prank? A gift? I looked at the password field. on a hunch, I typed in my birthday. Click. Unlocked. I grabbed my phone to ask the seller what was going on. That’s when the barrage of texts came in. “I messed up! I grabbed the wrong box!” “That’s my sister’s laptop! She keeps a photo of her ‘dream husband’ on it because she’s crazy!” “Please, help a girl out!” 2 I stared at the screen. “Dream husband?” Me? I convinced myself it was a coincidence. Maybe my photo became a meme online or a stock image. As for the birthday… plenty of people are born on that day. The seller’s panic seemed genuine, and honestly, a little hilarious. I replied: “Okay, I’ll return it.” I’m a teacher. I can’t steal a laptop, and I certainly don’t want to mess with someone’s “dream husband” delusion. The seller sent a flood of crying emojis. “Thank you! You’re a saint! I’ll meet you at the mall near the elementary school. Call me when you get there.” I grabbed the laptop and headed to the mall. I scanned the entrance for anyone looking like they were waiting for a package. Instead, I saw one of my students. Zoe. Zoe was staring at her massive, pink smartwatch, stomping her foot nervously. Seeing her triggered a memory from that morning. During recess, Zoe had cornered me. “Mr. Miller, do you have a girlfriend?” “No,” I’d said. She slapped her hand on her desk and pulled over another kid, Lucas. “Okay, Mr. Miller. Two choices. One: You become my brother-in-law. Two: You become his uncle. Pick one.” I was confused. Then I remembered Zoe was Lucas’s aunt (don’t ask about the family tree). Lucas had chimed in, “Yeah! My Aunt Nora is super pretty! She’s a police detective! She’s tall and kicks butt!” I had laughed it off. “I’ll give you two choices. Double homework, or triple homework?” They had scattered like roaches. Now, seeing Zoe at the mall, I tried to hide. I didn’t want to get roped into another “Choose Your Own Adventure” romance plot. I looked at the sky. I looked at my shoes. “Mr. Miller!” Too late. Zoe sprinted over. “What a coincidence! Are you waiting for a girlfriend?” I sighed. “No, Zoe.” It was 7:30 PM. “Where are your parents? It’s getting dark.” Zoe held up her watch. “I am on a mission. To protect my sister’s love life… and my own survival.” “Is your ride here?” She pointed to a sleek, expensive black car by the curb. “Driver’s right there.” I remembered I needed to call the seller. I dialed the number. Zoe’s giant pink watch started ringing. 3 The look on Zoe’s face was a masterpiece of pure terror. She stared at the laptop in my hands. Her brain rebooted. “M-Mr. Miller? You bought the laptop?” I handed it to her. “Here.” “Lying isn’t a good habit, Zoe. Also, tell your sister to refund my money.” Zoe looked like she was about to cry. “I can’t refund it! If she sees the transaction, she’ll know I sold the wrong one! She’s a cop! She knows how to hide a body!” “She beats me! You don’t want to see your favorite student with a black eye, do you?” “I thought you said she was nice?” I asked. “She is! I mean… no! She’s a tyrant! Please, Mr. Miller!” She was spiraling. “Okay, okay,” I said. “But I need the computer I actually bought. Or the money.” Zoe sniffled. “Can you… come to my house and get it?” 4 I followed Zoe into her house. The living room was full of people. “Mom, Dad, I’m home!” Zoe announced. “Sister… you’re back?” On the couch sat a woman. She had her eyes closed. She was wearing a simple T-shirt and sweatpants, but you could see the muscle definition underneath. Tan skin. Sharp jawline. Even sleeping, she looked intimidatingly gorgeous. So this is the sister. My eyes lingered a little too long. Zoe tugged my sleeve. “Mr. Miller, you’re drooling.” “I am not.” Zoe ran over to the woman and shook her. “Nora! Wake up! Emergency!” Her parents walked over to me, looking confused. “Who is this?” They didn’t recognize me. Which was weird, because “Zoe’s Guardian” liked every single one of my Facebook posts. “Hi, I’m Liam Miller. Zoe’s teacher.” The woman on the couch snapped her eyes open. She looked at me. Her gaze was sharp, analytical. A predator assessing prey. I looked away, nervous. Zoe was whispering to her sister. “Buy me the Lego Death Star! Or else!” Nora grabbed Zoe by the collar and tossed her aside like a sack of potatoes. “You failed math. No Death Star. Be quiet.” Zoe’s mom ushered me in. “Is Zoe in trouble at school? She’s a handful.” “No, no,” I explained. “I actually bought a laptop from… Zoe’s sister. There was a mix-up.” “Nora?” Her dad called out. “Go get Mr. Miller his computer.” Nora stood up. She walked past me without a word, her face completely blank, and went into a bedroom. Zoe was punching the sofa cushions in rage. “She won’t buy it! Evil woman!” I sat awkwardly with the parents. I decided to make conversation. “Zoe is a great kid,” I lied. “Very spirited. She’s talked the ears off nine different desk-mates.” Before I could finish, a slice of orange was shoved into my mouth. “Eat, Mr. Miller,” Zoe hissed. “My sister peeled it.” Zoe hopped off the couch and grabbed the rose gold laptop I had placed on the table. She opened it. The screen lit up. My face, eating ice cream, beamed at the entire family. Just then, Nora walked out of her room. Zoe gasped theatrically. “Oh my god, Nora! Why is Mr. Miller on your wallpaper? That is so weird!”

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My family went bankrupt. Then my best friend’s brother decided to force my hand. My best friend was fighting for me. “Sebastian! How could you do this to my best friend?” Her brother’s expression was calm. “You have a crush on her brother, don’t you? I had him brought here for you.” My best friend’s face changed in an instant. “Oh! Well, in that case!” Me: ? My brother: ? 1 My family’s business collapsed. My younger brother, Liam, and I were handling it with a grim sort of calm. The one person who wasn’t calm was my best friend, Isabelle Thorne. She called me, practically screaming into the phone. “Chloe! Are you okay? Are there loan sharks camped out on your lawn? Did they splash red paint on your door or something?” “…” I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “I’m fine, Izzy. And maybe you should watch a little less TV.” “Can you even afford to eat?” She had already pictured me begging on a street corner. “Quick, give me your bank details, I’ll wire you some money!” “It’s okay, really,” I reassured her. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.” After another ten minutes of dramatic wailing, she suddenly switched gears. “Chloe! I’ve been thinking, and I’ve come up with three possible solutions to save your family!” Thinking she was finally about to be serious, I sat up straighter. “I’m listening.” Isabelle declared, “Plan A! I’ll beg my brother to marry you!” “…” I knew I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up. Before the bankruptcy, my family’s business had been successful. But compared to the Thorne family, we were small-time. Theirs was old money, an empire that had only grown more formidable in recent years. And that was all thanks to Sebastian Thorne. Liam, Izzy, and I were the creative types, none of us with an ounce of business sense or any desire to take over our family companies. Sebastian was the complete opposite. In the business world, he was ruthless, decisive, and terrifyingly brilliant—a true titan of industry. I’d only met him a few times, but each time, he was like a walking glacier—imposing, cold, and radiating a chill that dropped the room temperature by ten degrees. Even though Izzy was his sister, she’d been on the receiving end of his lectures more times than she could count for her wild antics. She would often come to me, crying. “Everyone else’s brother is so sweet and gentle! Why is mine so scary?” But for all his scolding, their bond was strong. When Izzy’s chatter got on his nerves, Sebastian’s go-to solution was to throw money at her until she went away. Izzy would instantly transform, snatching the cash with a grin. “Thanks, Seb! You’re the best brother in the world!” If even his own sister was a little intimidated by him, what chance did I have? Besides, despite his frosty demeanor, Sebastian was tall, devastatingly handsome, and had a line of admirers stretching from New York to Paris. Why would he ever choose me? I immediately vetoed her first plan. “What’s Plan B?” Izzy’s voice jumped an octave, clearly thrilled with her next idea. “Plan B is—” “I’ll marry your brother!” 2 I have a younger brother, Liam, who is two years my junior. Liam is a lot like me—quiet and reserved. He’s also incredibly good-looking, the classic cool, aloof campus heartthrob all through school. Girls were constantly asking me to pass love letters to him. Izzy and I met during our junior year of college. As we grew closer, we started visiting each other’s homes. The first time Izzy saw Liam, she fell for him. Hard. Her jaw dropped, her eyes lit up, and she grabbed my hand, her voice a dramatic whisper. “Chloe, I think I’ve just met my Prince Charming.” “…This is my brother, Liam,” I introduced them. “What!” She got even more excited. “This is perfect! It’s fate, Chloe! Fate!” Liam just gave her a weary look and walked away. I tried to gently warn her. “Izzy, are you sure? Liam is… a tough nut to crack.” I had seen him turn down more girls than I could count. But Izzy didn’t listen. She launched a full-scale, no-holds-barred campaign to win him over. So far, it hadn’t worked. But she was nothing if not persistent, her spirit commendable. I couldn’t stand it anymore and asked Liam myself, “Do you really not like Izzy? She’s amazing. She’s beautiful, and she’s so fun and cheerful.” Liam just handed me a freshly peeled apple. “Eat your apple, and stop asking questions.” So, I shut up and took a bite. Deep down, I really hoped they would get together. Liam might not be a man of many words, but he was the best brother anyone could ask for. When I first heard about the bankruptcy, I was terrified. Liam, an architect, was out of town for work, but he rushed back overnight. He found me sitting in a daze and put a steadying hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay, Chloe. I’m here.” Instantly, I felt a surge of confidence. “I know.” I could tell that while Liam hadn’t been interested in Izzy at first, she was slowly getting under his skin. The last time I’d casually mentioned that some guy was asking Izzy out, Liam had been in a foul mood for the rest of the day. But a crush was one thing. With our family’s current situation, he was under immense pressure. Marrying Izzy was out of the question. So, Plan B was a no-go. Izzy sighed dramatically. “Well, that only leaves Plan C,” she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Maybe we should just elope!” 3 As ridiculous as it sounded, it somehow seemed more plausible than the first two options. But I still turned her down. “Why are all of your plans about one of us marrying one of you?” “To make us family, of course!” Izzy said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Besides, my family is loaded. We could pay off all your debts in a heartbeat!” She had a point. Then she suddenly gasped. “Wait! Don’t you have a childhood fiancé or something?” She meant Noah. Our families had lived next door to each other when we were kids. Noah was my shadow, following me everywhere. Our parents used to joke that we should just have an arranged marriage when we grew up. It was just talk, of course, nothing official. I’d always thought of Noah as a good friend and never took it seriously. Until my family went bankrupt. Noah showed up at my door, looking frantic. “Chloe, I told my parents we have to honor our engagement, but they won’t agree!” “I’m still trying to convince them! Just wait for me!” “Don’t worry,” he declared, puffing out his chest. “I won’t break things off just because your family is broke!” I stared at him, completely baffled. Break things off? We weren’t even together. I tried to explain. “Noah, uh, I don’t think we ever had a real engagement…” “Of course we did! My dad said so himself when I was five! Our families were going to be joined!” He wouldn’t listen, his eyes wide with conviction. “Chloe, wait for me! You just have to wait for me!” He ran off, shouting “Wait for me!” over his shoulder, leaving me utterly confused. I kept meaning to sit him down and explain things properly, but after the bankruptcy, life was a whirlwind of paperwork and phone calls. Thankfully, most of it was sorted out now. After liquidating our assets, we were still in debt, but it was a manageable number, not an insurmountable mountain. Liam and I were both working overtime to pay it off, bit by bit. I was a freelance illustrator, and I had taken on a flood of private commissions. Liam was constantly working late or traveling for business. Seeing how exhausted I was, Izzy insisted on dragging me away from my endless pile of sketches for a weekend getaway. “Come on, please!” she begged. “It’s my brother’s new mountain villa! We can watch the sunset, it’s gorgeous, I promise!” I couldn’t say no. “Okay, fine.” So that weekend, we drove up to the villa. It was perched on a mountaintop, lavishly decorated, with a breathtaking view. “What do you think? Isn’t it amazing?” Izzy said, pulling me along excitedly. “I begged my brother to let me throw a party here, but he always said no. This time, when I told him I wanted to bring you here for a vacation, he had a rare moment of mercy and actually agreed!” On the second floor, there was a huge observation deck overlooking the lush, green mountains. Izzy and I lounged on recliners, and watching the scenery, I felt my stress begin to melt away. After a while, Izzy went downstairs to get the desserts she’d been baking. I was lying there alone when I heard footsteps behind me. I turned my head. And froze. Izzy hadn’t mentioned Sebastian would be here. I fumbled for a moment, not knowing what to call him, and just stared up at him dumbly as he approached. He stopped beside my chair and spoke first. “How have you been holding up?” His voice snapped me out of my trance. “I’m… I’m okay.” A breeze swept across the deck, making the trees sway like a green ocean. It was so beautiful, I let out a soft sigh of admiration. He caught it. “You like it here?” “I love it,” I nodded, then joked, “The view is so incredible, it’s completely cleared my head. If only I could live here forever.” I was just making a casual remark, but Sebastian replied without a hint of hesitation. “You can.” I didn’t understand. “What?” “You can live here forever.” He looked down at me, his usual intimidating aura softened by the serious look in his eyes. “All you have to do is marry me.” 4 For a second, I was sure I’d misheard him. After a few stunned blinks, I quickly waved my hands. “I was just kidding.” But his expression didn’t change. “I’m not.” Now I was completely lost. I remembered Izzy’s joke about getting her brother to marry me and wondered if she had actually asked him. But Sebastian wasn’t the type to do things just because his sister asked. “Marry me,” Sebastian repeated. “You can name your terms.” I started to stammer. “I-I don’t think so.” A frown creased his brow, a clear sign of his displeasure. He was about to say something else when Izzy came back up, carrying a plate of cake. “Seb?” she said, surprised. “What are you doing here?” “Just passing through. I’m leaving soon.” He turned to go, then paused and looked back at me. “Think about it.” “Passing through what? The middle of nowhere?” Izzy watched him go, confused. “What were you guys talking about? I swear my brother looks even angrier than usual. His iceberg face is extra frosty.” I didn’t know what to say, so I asked her cautiously, “Did you, by any chance, ask your brother to marry me?” “Nope!” she said, shaking her head. “I was going to, but then I saw his face and chickened out. I was afraid he’d tell me to get lost, so I dropped it.” That only made me more confused, but I didn’t press the issue. After that, Izzy kept dragging me on “getaways,” sometimes to a resort her brother had invested in, other times to one of his properties. “I don’t know what’s gotten into my brother lately,” she’d say. “He’s suddenly being nice to me! He says yes to everywhere I want to go. I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth!” I tried to refuse, but she was relentless. I only agreed to go after making sure Sebastian wouldn’t be there. Our fourth trip was to a beach house he’d bought a year ago. Izzy said she’d only been allowed to stay there once since it was renovated. We ended up just curling up in the home theater to watch a movie. Halfway through, Izzy complained of a stomachache and ran to the bathroom. I paused the movie to wait for her. But she wasn’t the one who came back. It was Sebastian. Before I could even think of some polite small talk, he cut straight to the chase. “Have you made your decision?” I just stared at him blankly. “Huh?” “Marrying me,” he clarified. “I can pay off your family’s debt.” I didn’t answer right away. To be honest, I was tempted. But my hesitation must have looked like a refusal to him. His brow furrowed. “Why not? Is it because of that childhood fiancé of yours?” I was shocked. Izzy had even told him about Noah! “No, that’s not it,” I tried to explain. “That whole thing was…” He didn’t seem interested in my explanation. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter.” He produced a glass of milk from somewhere and handed it to me. “Drink.” “Oh, okay.” I took the glass obediently and took a sip. “Finish it,” he commanded. I dutifully drank the rest of it. “It tastes a little bitter,” I remarked. “Mm,” he said, taking the empty glass back. “Are you tired?” Now that he mentioned it, a wave of drowsiness washed over me. I rubbed my eyes. “Yeah, a little.” My thoughts suddenly felt fuzzy, and my eyelids grew heavy. In the last few seconds before I lost consciousness, I heard his voice, low and soft. “Go to sleep.”

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Danny was on his deathbed, and I was the only one there, his faithful companion. I was peeling an apple, the rhythmic scrape of the blade a comfort. I smiled at our children. “Want to hear the story of your parents’ golden anniversary?” I expected fond smiles. Instead, they looked at me as if I’d served them poison. My son, Ben, shook his head. “Mom, look at me and Maya. We’re not married. Don’t you understand why?” I stared, bewildered. “Why? Your father and I have been through fifty years together.” Maya shot to her feet. “Fifty years as his mistress?” she shot back, her voice shaking. “Fifty years with no name, no rights, raising two illegitimate children while another woman shared him as your equal? You call that a golden anniversary? I’d rather be alone!” Rage flared in me. Crack. My palm struck her cheek. Maya clutched her face, eyes blazing with tears. Those eyes were screaming, He’s not worth it. A wave of vertigo hit me. I clutched my chest, a sharp pain lancing through my heart, and crumpled to the floor. All that came out was a choked gasp and the coppery taste of blood. 1 “Mom! Mom, don’t scare me!” Maya cried, her anger instantly replaced by panic. I grabbed her arm, my voice a desperate rasp. “You think he doesn’t love me? Your father? After fifty years, you think there was never any love?” She turned her face away, unable to meet my eyes. I violently shook off the hand she offered to help me up and scrambled toward the hospital bed. I seized Danny’s frail, withered wrist, the skin a roadmap of needle marks and faded bruises. I leaned in close, staring into his clouded eyes, my voice a raw shout. “Danny! Don’t you love me? Huh?” “In high school, you skipped breakfast every day to save up and buy me a rose. In winter, you knitted me a scarf and warmed my hands in yours. In college, you worked all summer to buy me a ring… Have you forgotten all that?” “Say something! Answer me!” I shook him with all my strength, but not a single sound could escape the tube in his throat. He’d endured five major surgeries this year alone. The handsome, strong man I once knew was gone, replaced by a fragile skeleton trapped in this sterile white bed. He’d had two women in his life, and children from both. But in the end, the only one here, tending to him day and night, was me. “How dare you say you don’t love me? Speak!” I slapped him, once, then again, the sound sharp in the sterile room, my hands striking his hollowed-out cheeks. “You liar! You’ve lied to me my whole life! Give him back to me… Give me back the Danny I knew when I was twenty!” His head lolled to the side from the force of the blows. He couldn’t move, but his old eyes slowly, painfully, turned back to me. And then, large, cloudy tears began to roll down his temples, quickly soaking the white hair at his sides. Maya wrapped her arms around me from behind, her voice choked with sobs. “Mom, stop! Please, stop! He can’t talk!” My mouth was open, but I couldn’t breathe. The world swam before my eyes. All I ever wanted was to fool myself for a lifetime. 2 Danny had two women in his life. We grew up on the same block, in a rough part of town. Childhood sweethearts, inseparable. The year we graduated, Danny’s academic excellence landed him a coveted position as a senior aide to Chairman Sterling, the head of the Sterling Corporation. The other woman was the Chairman’s secret, illegitimate daughter. On my twenty-second birthday, I accepted Danny’s proposal. The very next day, I was taken. The kidnappers demanded a twenty-million-dollar ransom, or they would kill me. But Danny and I were just kids, fresh out of school. Twenty million was an impossible sum. To prove they were serious, they’d sent him my ring finger, the engagement ring still on it. Danny knelt before Chairman Sterling for a day and a night, begging. He came back with a check for twenty million dollars. And he brought me home. The price was a night with the Chairman’s daughter, Eleanor Sterling. On his deathbed, Chairman Sterling used that twenty million to secure a stable future for his illegitimate daughter. He saw Danny’s talent and ambition. He entrusted him with the entire Sterling Corporation, and with Eleanor. I was in agony. I struggled. The man I loved now had a woman who would be by his side for life. I should have wished them well and disappeared. But every time I made up my mind to leave him for good, Danny would appear. Sometimes drunk, sometimes sober and clear-eyed. He would kiss the mutilated finger that could never again wear a ring and whisper, “Lena, don’t you ever think you can leave me. You owe me twenty million. You owe me your life.” Later, he confessed that his relationship with Eleanor was just for show, a necessary evil. He swore that I was the only woman he considered his wife. And when I learned they had no official marriage certificate, I accepted his terms. From that day on, I became his life in Northwood, and Eleanor was his life in Bay City. Over fifty years, we even bore him the same number of children, a boy and a girl each. He was the master of juggling two lives. “…Don’t be a fool, Mom. You call that juggling?” 3 It was Maya again. Her words were always so hard to hear. And they always cut right to the bone. “Do you have any idea how much jewelry she owns? How many apartments, how many limited-edition cars? Do you know how many shares of the company have been funneled to her, openly and secretly?” My lips moved, but no sound came out. “Fine,” Maya said, her voice thick with the frustration she felt on my behalf. “You can say you don’t care about that stuff. But what about his time? In fifty years, you can count on one hand the number of times Dad flew to Northwood to be with you. When Grandma and Grandpa were sick, when they were dying, you were the one who stayed by their bedsides day and night. Did Eleanor Sterling ever bring them a glass of water? A single pill?” “When we were kids, how many people pointed at us and called us bastards, illegitimate… You always said Dad was busy! Yes, he was busy! Busy celebrating a birthday with his other children in Bay City! How many of our birthdays did he come home for? We couldn’t even call him ‘Dad’ unless no one else was around!” Finally, a flicker of pity softened her voice, as if she was afraid of pushing me too far. “And in the end… Mom, she had a wedding of the century, broadcast around the world. Her dress was custom-designed by a master couturier. Her ring was bigger than a quail’s egg. And you?” She paused, her voice barely a whisper. “You have a finger that can never wear a ring again.” I staggered back until my spine hit the cold wall. The dignity I had fought to maintain for fifty years was, in my daughter’s eyes, nothing but a pathetic lie. I could still see the broadcast of that wedding, clear as day, even after all these decades. The air filled with falling petals as Danny, in a perfectly tailored suit, kissed Eleanor. The applause of countless guests. They were a beautiful couple, a perfect match. Beside me on the sofa, Danny’s mother had let out a long, weary sigh and patted my hand, saying nothing. That sigh was more shaming than any curse. Even if Danny swore they would never get a marriage license, that in name, Eleanor and I were the same, what did it matter? He bought her priceless jade at auctions, hosted art exhibitions of her paintings, even cooked for her. The tenderness in his eyes when he looked at her was undeniable. The world said Danny Sterling adored his wife. And I was just a sewer rat, peeking at a happiness that wasn’t mine. I’d fought back, of course. The worst time, I smashed everything in the house I could get my hands on. At first, he was patient. He tried to hold me like he used to, to kiss my broken finger and murmur, “Don’t, Lena… You know you’re the only one in my heart. I could never love her. What is Eleanor Sterling to me? Anything she has, you’ll have too…” But eventually, he stopped saying that. The last time I raged, he stood amidst the wreckage, looking down at me as I sat, disheveled and broken, on the floor. He watched me for a long time, then said softly, “You’re getting old, Lena. What’s the point of all this?” He was right. I was old. My skin had loosened, my waist had thickened, and the lines around my eyes were too deep to hide. And Eleanor, with her expensive beauty treatments, was always perfect, always radiant at the galas, the charity dinners, the international art shows where she was needed. More importantly, I had no way out. He had long since forbidden me from working, slowly clipping the wings that connected me to the outside world. The money he gave me was enough to raise the children, enough to keep up appearances, but never enough for me to have ideas of my own, and certainly not enough to leave and live independently. I was a frog in a pot of slowly boiling water, and I’d been simmering for so long. Eventually, I started to believe it myself. I had to love him. I had to act like I loved him more now than I ever had when I was young. It was the only way to find a reason for this absurd, laughable love, a pillar to keep it from collapsing entirely. Danny’s visits to Northwood grew less and less frequent. But I poured all my energy into caring for his parents, so much so that on their deathbeds, they wept and told me how sorry they were for what I’d endured. I pushed my children relentlessly, my standards for them almost cruel, until they became top performers in their fields. Their success was my greatest medal, proof that my silent suffering had been worth something. 4 Danny’s health took a sharp decline in the spring. A man of his wealth should have had access to the world’s best doctors, to 24/7 private care. He shouldn’t have been in this state. But his son and daughter in Bay City were just waiting for him to die so they could take over his empire. Danny was stubborn and refused to relinquish control. He came to Northwood on his last legs. When I opened the door, he collapsed into my arms. Through five major surgeries, I let no one else near him. I bathed him, fed him his medicine, tended to his every need myself. He wasted away to nothing. In his rare moments of lucidity, he would dictate instructions to his secretary. One day, the secretary mentioned arrangements for his ashes. I suddenly spoke up. “He should come back to Northwood. Come home.” His cloudy eyes turned to me. On a strange impulse, I added, “…I want to be buried with you.” The words were out before I could stop them. I was stunned. The resentment I had buried for fifty years had never truly gone away. If I couldn’t have him exclusively in life, I would bind him to me in death, forever. Danny smiled, a weak, tired thing, and laboriously raised a hand to my face. “…That wouldn’t be fair.” He paused. “My ashes… half and half. Buried in two different places.” “Danny…” I stared at the dying man. “And was it fair to me?” Eleanor and I both had a son and a daughter, all around the same age. But I never told Danny that we should have had three children. Eleanor had always known about me, but Danny had passed me off as a live-in housekeeper. A housekeeper. Someone who would never threaten her position as Mrs. Sterling. Even so, she couldn’t stand the thought of me bearing his child before she did. One day, there was an “accident.” I fell, and started bleeding heavily. Danny wasn’t there. There was no one to even sign the emergency medical forms. I passed out from the pain. I was lucky to survive, but I nearly lost my uterus. I never told anyone about it. It was a scar I carried deep inside. 5 Today was December 6th. Fifty years ago today, Danny emptied his pockets, took me to a jewelry store, and bought me a ring. On that day, with a ring on my finger, I accepted his proposal. In my heart, I married him fifty years ago. That’s why I told my children we’d had a fifty-year marriage. Today should have been our golden anniversary. But there were three people in this marriage. It was too crowded. I wiped away a tear. Maya was right. A golden anniversary like this? I would rather not have it. Today was also the day of Danny’s sixth major surgery. The head surgeon said the risk was extremely high, with only a ten or twenty percent chance of success. But the potential reward was just as great. If it worked, he could recover most of his strength. If it failed, he would die on the operating table. He was with his secretary now, scribbling instructions on a notepad. Soon, the nurses would come to take him away. I don’t know what came over me, but I shouted, “You fell in love with her, didn’t you? You’ve loved Eleanor for a long time!” You just couldn’t admit it to me. He struggled, shaking his head. I laughed through my tears. Even at death’s door, he wouldn’t tell me the truth. My children and I waited outside the operating room. I stared at the floor. Maya came over and put her arm around me. “Don’t worry, Mom. Dad will make it through.” I forced a smile. “I almost wish he wouldn’t.” Then I would finally be free. Six hours. The surgery dragged on. I couldn’t sit still. The longer it took, the greater the risk. Which meant… Suddenly, the doors to the operating room burst open. A doctor rushed toward me. “The patient’s condition has taken a turn! He’s in cardiac arrest! We need to reopen his chest immediately! Where’s the family? We need a signature on the consent form!” A piece of paper was thrust into my hand. My mind went blank. Images of Danny flashed before my eyes—young, old, tender, cold. The tip of the pen hovered over the signature line. My hand was shaking so badly I couldn’t write. “Sign it! Sign it now!” the doctor urged, his voice frantic. “We can’t proceed without a signature! You’re wasting precious time!” Slowly, I put the pen down. “Doctor,” I said, looking up, “there are no direct family members here. I can’t sign this.”

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I was Julian Thorne’s companion for three years. He set many rules for me. No touching him. No crossing the line. He was afraid his “white moonlight”—his childhood sweetheart—would misunderstand. I was cautious, terrified of being thrown back to the poverty-stricken mountains I came from. The day his sweetheart became single again, perhaps to avoid suspicion or simply because I disgusted him, he told his grandfather, Mr. Thorne: “I don’t want Autumn to be my companion anymore.” Terrified of losing my chance at an education, I swore a solemn oath: “I swear, I, Autumn Reed, will never fall in love with Julian Thorne in this lifetime. If I do, may I die a horrible death. Are you satisfied?” Later, that oath trapped him for a lifetime. 1 The Thorne family wanted to pick a companion for Julian from the underprivileged students they sponsored. Mr. Thorne chose me at first glance. At that time, Mr. Thorne was visiting the countryside, and his car got stuck in the mud. I was catching mudfish nearby and went up to help push. Despite my small frame, I was incredibly strong. After we got the car out, I cheekily asked if they wanted to buy my mudfish. Just like that, I was chosen. The day I was brought to the Thorne estate, Julian immediately put me in my place. He pushed a test paper in front of me. “If your IQ isn’t high enough, you don’t deserve to be my companion.” That day, I took a Math Olympiad test for the first time. The questions were interesting, the difficulty average. Seeing me finish in under an hour, Julian was surprised. Sitting in his wheelchair, he started laying down the rules. “I only have three requirements. First, no touching me.” Pushing a wheelchair didn’t require touching him, so that seemed easy enough. “Second, no pitying me.” Looking at his empty pant leg, I nodded solemnly. The Thorne family controlled 40% of the nation’s shipbuilding industry. To say they could turn clouds into rain with a wave of their hand was no exaggeration. Born into such a prominent family, who was I to pity him? “Third, we have an employment relationship. I hope our relationship remains purely professional. Don’t get any funny ideas.” I looked at his sculpted profile in the dappled light, then at my own dusty reflection in the glass cabinet. I understood. He meant a toad shouldn’t dream of eating swan meat. 2 Being a companion meant accompanying Julian through three years of high school. Mr. Thorne said as long as I stayed with Julian, helped him around school, and looked out for him, the Thorne family would cover my future education—whether it was a master’s, a doctorate, or studying abroad. To me, this wasn’t a transaction, but a blessing. The Thorne family gave me clean clothes, a spacious room, and ample time to study. All I had to do was fetch water, run errands, and push Julian’s wheelchair between classes. It was a luxury work-study program. At school, Julian was an eye-catcher. He was exceptionally handsome and the only student in a wheelchair. Even though he dressed and traveled low-key, gazes followed him everywhere. Naturally, classmates were curious about our relationship. One day, after I politely asked Julian for the seventh time if he needed fresh air, the student in front of us turned around. “What exactly is your relationship? You seem close but distant. You can’t be master and servant, right?” Without looking up, Julian replied, “None of your business.” He was always like this—withdrawn, cold, seemingly uninterested in making friends. Oh, wait, not always. Every weekend when he made international video calls, his mood would turn from cloudy to sunny. I didn’t know who made him so happy. 3 At school, besides taking care of Julian, I buried my head in books. I didn’t socialize much. Gradually, Julian and I became known as the odd duo. Some called us “The Crippled Prince and his Country Bumpkin Follower.” Yes, my accent, my sun-darkened skin, my whole aura screamed “rural.” It didn’t matter. I didn’t care. But the “Crippled Prince” remark led to a fight between me and the strongest guy in the sports class. That day, I was pushing Julian out of school. A jock holding a basketball sneered, “Yo, isn’t that the crippled prince and his bumpkin sidekick?” I stopped and glared at him coldly. Julian didn’t even look at the guy. He just said to me, “Ignore him. Let’s go.” The jock laughed loudly. “Keep pretending, you little coward.” Julian reminded me again, “Let’s go.” I didn’t leave. Instead, I walked straight up to the guy and punched him. Yes, a punch, not a slap. I jumped up and hit him on the right cheek. I was strong. He stumbled back several steps, clutching his face, stunned. I dropped a threat: “Keep running your mouth and I’ll hit you every time I see you!” The driver, waiting in the distance, said he finally understood why Mr. Thorne chose me. However, Julian wasn’t grateful. His evaluation was: “Reckless, impulsive, stupid.” He said arguing with low-class people lowered one’s status; using physical violence against verbal violence invited trouble. But what civilization can you discuss with uncivilized people? I retorted, “He insulted you, he deserved it.” In the car, Julian was silent for a long time before speaking slowly: “Autumn, we have an employment relationship. Don’t bring personal emotions into it.” I knew what he was reminding me of. 4 There were many such reminders and warnings later. Two instances left the deepest impression. Once, I went to his study to borrow an Agatha Christie collection. There, I saw a photo of him surfing. Spirited, smiling brightly. Involuntarily, I looked at where his right leg should be. Strong, powerful, tanned. When Julian coughed behind me, I jumped and hurriedly put the photo back. He looked at me, his voice cold. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop. I said, no pity.” That time, I nodded furiously. Another time was accompanying him to a music festival. Usually, he was gloomy and silent, locking himself in his room or the music studio. But at that festival, he transformed. Seeing him DJing on stage in his wheelchair completely overturned my perception. The powerful electronic beats, synced with his finger movements, pounded against my heart. He raised his arms confidently to welcome the cheers. The breath of youth, the vigor of life. Hot and passionate; broken yet resilient. I admit, my heart skipped a beat. But—I knew my place. The Little Prince says: “You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.” And that “One runs the risk of weeping a little, if one lets oneself be tamed.” I didn’t want to weep. Besides, he set the rule: no funny ideas. I promised him. As I was giving myself a pep talk, he came off stage. Taking the water bottle I handed him, his fingers brushed mine. The warm touch made my face heat up uncontrollably. Julian keenly caught my reaction. This time, he was blunt: “Why are you blushing? Don’t get any ideas about me. I have someone I like, and she’s coming back soon.”

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At the company gala, Finn, an intern, tossed a half-eaten scallop from his plate directly into his fiancée’s bowl. She picked it up and ate it without a second thought. That night, I tore our merger agreement into shreds and threw it in the trash. She took off her glasses, her face etched with exhaustion. “Over a single scallop?” “He gave it to you after he’d already taken a bite.” Sophia Walter scoffed. “Ethan Cole, I never realized you were so petty.” “Fine,” she said, her voice dripping with disdain. “Let’s call off the wedding. Just don’t you dare come crawling back to me.” She was convinced I was so deeply in love with her that I could never let go. But I just smiled. “Deal. And whoever comes crawling back is a dog.” 01 The very next day, I asked my parents to find a new family for our corporate alliance. They were surprised but didn’t press for details, respecting my decision. As expected, Sophia initiated a cold war. Blocking my number, deleting me from her socials, cutting off all contact—she moved through the steps with the cold precision of a practiced routine. She was certain that, just like every other time, I would be the one to break the silence and come back to her. But this time, as I stared at the familiar friend request notification on my screen, I finally let it fade away without hitting ‘accept.’ A week later, a notification popped up in the company-wide group chat: “Tonight is Ms. Walter’s birthday celebration. Attendance is mandatory for all employees.” I went, if only to avoid making a scene. Pushing open the door to the private dining room, the first thing I saw was Sophia at the head of the table, with Finn leaning in so close his lips were practically brushing her ear. They were murmuring to each other, lost in a world of their own, a bubble no one else could penetrate. As they laughed, they leaned even closer, their faces a breath away from a kiss. I tore my gaze away, found a seat in the corner, and started drinking alone. Colleagues began presenting their gifts one by one, but I remained motionless. Eventually, a shadow fell over me. I looked up into Sophia’s beautiful face, now marred by a flicker of annoyance. “Ethan. Where’s my present?” In the past, I would have spent months preparing for this day. I once spent weeks meticulously building her a scale model of Howl’s Moving Castle, the one that actually walked. When the gears turned and smoke curled from its tiny chimneys, she had squeezed my hand and whispered, “We’ll be just like Sophie and Howl, finding our forever home in each other.” I believed her then. I never imagined her ‘forever’ wouldn’t even last three years. “I forgot,” I said, my voice flat. Sophia’s face darkened. “How long are you going to keep this up? Are you really this upset over such a small thing?” My eyes drifted to her lipstick, smeared slightly where Finn’s face had been. A wave of nausea rolled through me. “I’m not trying to make a scene. I’m serious about calling off the engagement.” Her expression froze for a fraction of a second, but she regained her composure the moment Finn’s hand found hers under the table. “Ethan, don’t misunderstand,” Finn explained softly, the picture of innocence. “I just didn’t want it to go to waste. If it bothers you that much, I can just wait until everyone’s finished eating at the next dinner.” His words instantly ignited Sophia’s protective instincts. “Finn, you deserve the best! The one who should leave is Ethan. Who does he think he is?” Finn walked over and patted my shoulder. “Come on, Ethan. Be the bigger man. Sophia hasn’t been sleeping well these past few days. I know you two have your differences, but you’re still engaged…” I swatted his hand away, a cold laugh escaping my lips. “You know what I admire most about you, Finn?” “You can play the victim and the villain at the same time, all while shamelessly hitting on another man’s fiancée.” The smile froze on Finn’s face. Sophia was instantly furious. “Ethan, how dare you slander him!” “Slander? Then why don’t you explain why every gift you’ve ever given me, he has an identical one? Why is it that every time we fight, he’s the one who makes sure the whole office knows about it? And how the hell does he know about the small scar high on your thigh—” “Enough!” The sharp crack of a slap echoed through the room. My left ear rang, and my vision swam. The only thing in focus was the sea of faces around me, their expressions a mix of pity and scorn, all directed at me. The ringing slowly subsided. It was replaced by Sophia’s voice, loud and clear, ringing with defiance. “From this day forward, I want everyone to like the photos of me and Finn together. Once we hit one thousand likes, I’m calling off this stupid engagement and marrying him instead.” Without another word, she grabbed Finn’s hand and stormed out of the room. As they passed me, Finn shot me a look of pure, undisguised triumph. After they left, the room began to empty. A sneering voice drifted back to me. “Served him right for pretending to be so magnanimous. He played his hand and lost. Too late for regrets now.” A colleague I was closer with leaned in and whispered, “Ethan, your pride isn’t worth it. Just go apologize. You can’t let her do something crazy in the heat of the moment…” I knew exactly what this was. Another test, another power play designed to make me bend. But this time, I wasn’t going to fold. Not even if it killed me. The once-boisterous room fell silent until I was the only one left. I picked up a half-full bottle of whiskey from the table and drained it, the fiery liquid scorching a path down my throat and into my stomach, the burn so intense it brought tears to my eyes. Nearly twenty years of my life had been tied to her. Cutting the cord, it turned out, just felt like this. Fine. I would accept the family’s new arrangement, move thousands of miles away to Bayside City for a new alliance, a new partnership. Far enough away that she could never bother me again. I didn’t know why, but my face was wet and cold again. Back at my apartment, I started to pack. Sophia and I were childhood sweethearts; most of my life was interwoven with hers. The place was filled with too many things, each one a hook pulling at a memory. This faded red paper flower. Her first prize in kindergarten. She had toddled over to me, her little legs churning, and placed it reverently in my palm. “Ethan, you get the best things!” This yellowed photograph. Her face flushed beet-red the day she got her first period. Having skipped health class, she thought she was dying and ran to me to deliver her last will and testament, telling me to find a girlfriend who wasn’t as pretty as her. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Once I figured out what was happening, I sprinted to the corner drugstore to buy pads. We sat together, puzzling over the instruction manual. I teased her for not paying attention in class, and she bit my arm in frustration. Strangely, it didn’t hurt. Instead, a secret, sweet warmth spread through my chest. After that, getting together was the most natural thing in the world. Different colleges meant four long years of long-distance. The thick stack of train tickets I’d saved was a testament to the hundred and twenty thousand miles I’d traveled for her. Back then, her world revolved around me. She would have crossed oceans for me without a single complaint. My fingers brushed against a small, hard box. Inside, a pair of simple, matching rings we had made together lay nestled in velvet. For her, I had moved back to this city without a moment’s hesitation after graduation. The day I returned, she dragged me to a jewelry workshop to forge these rings. She slid one onto my finger, her eyes sparkling. “Ethan Cole, you’re mine now. Trapped for life. Don’t even think about running away.” We both believed it then. That the sincerity of a vow spoken in a moment of pure love was enough to make it eternal. We never imagined she would be the first one to let go. The day Finn interviewed at the company, he was terrible. Sophia made no secret of her disdain. I, too, dismissed the applicant who lacked both the qualifications and the skills. But somehow, against all odds, he was hired as an intern. My real alarm bells started ringing when I saw the ring—our ring, the one that was supposed to be uniquely ours—on Finn’s finger. At first, when I confronted her, Sophia was patient, coaxing me with soft words and explanations. But soon, her patience wore thin, replaced by irritation. My constant willingness to forgive, to endure, to please her, only emboldened her favoritism toward Finn. The menu for company dinners was tailored exclusively to his tastes. He only had to show up to the office for half a day each week, spending the rest of his time with Sophia. Meanwhile, all his menial intern duties were unceremoniously dumped on me. She started bringing him up more and more often. It began as unconscious admiration, but soon she was openly comparing me to him, complaining that I wasn’t romantic enough, that my words weren’t sweet enough. Then came the day at a company coffee break. Sophia was raving about the milk tea she’d ordered. Finn leaned in and said he wanted a taste. Without a second thought, she offered him her cup, straw and all. He took a long drink, his lips touching the faint trace of her lipstick on the straw. What made my chest tighten was how she took it back and, completely unfazed, continued drinking from the very same straw. In that instant, it felt like an invisible hand was squeezing my heart, a sour, suffocating pressure that made it hard to breathe. From then on, Finn’s transgressions as an “intern” became unstoppable. He’d help with her skincare routine, personally applying lotion to her hands. When she sprained her ankle, he ignored me standing right beside her, hoisting her onto his back and rushing her to the infirmary. She even cancelled my birthday celebration, a dinner I had been planning for weeks, because Finn had a minor cold. Every time I expressed my displeasure, Sophia would lash out impatiently. “Ethan, you see the worst in everything! He’s just an intern, what could possibly happen between us? Stop projecting your own dirty thoughts onto everyone else!” But as time went on, the conviction in her voice began to waver. The final blow came during a major industry gala. The invitation explicitly stated to bring a partner. She went with Finn, without even telling me. I only found out after several people asked if we had broken up. When I confronted her, she was angrier than I was. “I took him so he could network and learn! Don’t interns need to learn? You’re a grown man, Ethan. Can you stop being so insecure?” We didn’t speak for a long time after that, so long that I thought it was truly the end. Then, late one night, a message from her popped up: “Honey, my stomach hurts so much…” And just like that, the wall of cold indifference I had tried so hard to build crumbled into dust. The terrible cycle began anew: I would confront her, she would get angry, I would back down and appease her, and she would forgive me. I snapped the ring box shut and threw it into the trash. In the deepest corner of a drawer, I found an apology note she had written me when she was eighteen, all because she had missed one of my texts. Back then, she truly cared. Now, the only person she had eyes for was the intern. I took out the yellowed letter, tore it into tiny pieces, and let them flutter into the garbage can. With decades of our shared history now cleared out, the apartment felt vast and empty. It felt like my heart had been hollowed out along with it. In the company group chat, photos of Finn celebrating Sophia’s birthday were flooding the feed. Colleagues, all too aware of Sophia’s preferences, were tripping over themselves to shower them with praise. “Ms. Walter and Finn are so cute together!” “Every girl needs a boyfriend like Finn. He’s so warm and attentive, not like Mr. Cole who always has a sour face on.” “Finn’s just an intern and he takes such good care of Ms. Walter. Now that’s what you call effort…” I couldn’t bear to look anymore. I picked up my phone and called my lawyer. “I want to pull all of my investments from the Walter Corporation.” The next day, I returned to the office to collect my personal belongings. I pushed open the door to my private lounge. And there was Finn, feet kicked up on my desk, wearing a pair of baggy shorts. His personal effects were strewn across the entire room. My things were piled in a heap in the hallway outside the door. Sophia had designed this lounge specifically for me. Everyone in the company knew it was my sanctuary, a place no one dared to enter without permission. What Finn was doing now was no different from dancing on my grave. I didn’t waste my breath arguing with him. I just took out my phone and called the police. In the mediation room at the station, Finn looked flustered. “I was just getting a file for Sophia. Did you really have to call the cops?” “That is my private space. Did I give you permission to enter?” “Entering without asking is called theft.” Finn didn’t argue, but his eyes suddenly welled with tears. I immediately sensed something was wrong. I turned, and sure enough, Sophia was standing behind me, her face a mask of cold fury. “Sophia!” Finn cried, practically throwing himself into her arms. “I was really just trying to get that file for you… I think Ethan really hates me. He’s insisting I’m a thief… My apartment is already overflowing with the gifts you’ve given me, why would I ever want any of his things?” This small room had once been my refuge. It was a gift from her after I built her the castle model. We had made so many memories here. I thought, at the very least, this place would be the last shred of dignity our relationship had left, a sanctuary that would remain untainted. But Sophia, with her own hands, had just shattered that final illusion. She stroked Finn’s back comfortingly, then turned to the officer. “It’s a misunderstanding. We’re all friends here. Sorry to have troubled you.” Then, her gaze fell on me, her voice dripping with ice and disgust. “Ethan, what has gotten into you? Acting like a bitter, jealous spouse, using your position to bully an intern. Does that make you feel powerful? You are a profound disappointment.” The accusations rained down on me. Before I could even speak, Finn chimed in again, his voice thick with a sob. “Sophia, don’t blame Ethan. It was my fault… It’s okay, I can go to jail for a few days. I don’t mind people laughing at me, as long as you two don’t fight because of me…” Sophia squeezed his hand, her eyes filled with pity. “Finn, you’re just too kind. That’s why people always take advantage of you.” She turned back to me, her tone hardening. “Ethan. Apologize to Finn. Now.” “He’s the one who trespassed in my private space. You want me to apologize to him, and you think he’s the one who’s been wronged?” The moment the words left my mouth, Finn’s quiet sobs started up again on cue. Sophia let out a cold laugh. “Your private space? Don’t forget, that lounge is property of the Walter Corporation. This entire building is mine. You only have permission to use it. And if you continue with this attitude, I have no problem pressing charges against you for filing a false report.” With that, she led Finn away to finalize the paperwork. Her words were like an icy drill, boring straight into my heart. A sharp pain, one I thought I was already numb to, flared up again. All these years, I had poured everything I had into supporting her company, thinking I was building our future together. And in the end, all I got was—You only have permission to use it. Before leaving, Sophia delivered her final warning. “By the way, the like count is at 990. If you don’t change your attitude, I will actually go and marry Finn.” I looked at Finn, who was hiding behind her, his eyes glinting with contempt. In that moment, the full, pathetic scope of my situation became clear. His tactics had always been clumsy. A woman as smart as Sophia couldn’t possibly have missed them. She had simply chosen to allow it. The scales in her heart had tipped long ago. This whole charade was nothing more than a play she and Finn had orchestrated to get rid of me, the inconvenient obstacle. And I was the fool who had kept begging for scraps. With that realization, the last embers of affection I held for Sophia were finally extinguished. In the days leading up to my move to Bayside City, a few gleeful colleagues kept messaging me. “994 likes! Your fiancée is about to be gone for good if you don’t wise up!” “Tsk tsk, 997! Looks like you’re destined to be alone, buddy.” “Wow, you’re really holding out this time, huh? Or are you just scared you can’t compete with Finn, so you’re running away with your tail between your legs? Haha!” I blocked and deleted them one by one, ignoring the taunts. When the like count stalled at 999 and I still hadn’t made a move, the atmosphere around Sophia grew dangerously cold. No one in the office dared to cast that final vote. Just as she was plotting her next move to force my hand, someone burst into her office. “Ms. Walter! The 1000th like… it’s done!”

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My online boyfriend had a weird thing for… let’s call it corporate larping. When his mom called him home for dinner, he’d text me: “Returning to the estate to dine with the matriarch.” I caught on fast. So when my friends were short one player for poker night, I messaged the group: “It’s a meeting of the scions. The game doesn’t start until I arrive.” My online boyfriend totally got it. I always thought we were just a couple of weirdos playing a game. Until, just before the holidays, he added me to his childhood friends’ group chat. “These are the guys I grew up with,” he said. “They wanted to meet you.” I tapped open the member list, and my blood ran cold. Why was the stone-faced, ultra-serious CEO of my company in this group chat? His nickname: Adrian’s Loyal Puppy. Oh. My online boyfriend’s name was Adrian. A moment later, the CEO tagged me in the chat. [Adrian’s Loyal Puppy]: @UrbanFatigue Sis-in-law! Say something! [Adrian’s Loyal Puppy]: cute_cat.jpg I couldn’t move. I literally could not move a muscle. Weren’t we just playing a game? How are you guys for real?! 1 To be honest, the moment Adrian pulled me into that group chat, my spidey-senses were tingling. It was a small group, just four of them, and they were deep in conversation, so they didn’t notice me at first. I scrolled through their recent messages, a thoughtful frown on my face. [Max]: It’s winter. We should hit Zermatt for some skiing. I lost to Leo last year, and I need a rematch! [Adrian’s Loyal Puppy]: You couldn’t beat me last year, what makes you think this year’s any different? 😉 [Sam_ing]: Can’t. Taking my fiancée to St. Barts for the holidays (sigh). [Max]: Oof. Good luck, man. That fiancée of yours is a handful. I stared at my phone, tapping my chin. Something was off. Something was very, very off. Why did all these names sound so familiar? Especially the guy whose screen name was “Adrian’s Loyal Puppy”… Leo. The name Leo was familiar, but his profile picture—a shot of him mid-air on a snowboard—was even more familiar. Just as I was racking my brain, they finally noticed me. [Adrian’s Loyal Puppy]: Whoa, we got a new member!! [Adrian]: Everyone, this is my girlfriend. He tagged my username, @UrbanFatigue. The chat went silent for two beats, then exploded. [Max]: Sis-in-law! [Adrian’s Loyal Puppy]: Sis-in-law! [Sam_ing]: Sis-in-law! [Adrian’s Loyal Puppy]: FINALLY! We’ve been bugging you for ages, Ade, and you finally let us meet her! [Adrian’s Loyal Puppy]: I’m dying of curiosity. Who is this goddess who finally managed to capture our boy Adrian’s heart?! A blush crept up my neck. Adrian and I had been dating online for over two years, but this was the first time I’d had any contact with his friends. I was about to type something back when my eyes caught on “Adrian’s Loyal Puppy’s” profile picture again. My fingers froze over the keyboard. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I knew where I’d seen that face. My brain buzzed. I immediately swiped out of the chat and opened my company’s internal website. After a frantic search through the archives, I found it. A photo from three months ago, when our company finalized a major international partnership. There he was. A young man in a tailored suit, his expression severe and unsmiling as he stood beside the foreign executives, radiating an aura of pure power. I stared at the caption below the photo. The name “Leo Guillory” jumped out at me. Leo Guillory. The CEO of my company, Stratos Tech. And the only son of its founder. Ah… Ah? The chat was buzzing again. [Adrian’s Loyal Puppy]: @UrbanFatigue Your username is hilarious, sis-in-law, lmao. [Adrian’s Loyal Puppy]: So how did you and Adrian meet? [Adrian’s Loyal Puppy]: C’mon, sis-in-law, say something! [Adrian’s Loyal Puppy]: curious_cat.jpg 2 The curious cat GIF just spun and spun. I frantically sent a generic waving emoji and exited the app. With trembling hands, I opened my private chat with Adrian and tried to sound casual. “Babe, your ‘loyal puppy’ friend looks kinda familiar.” He replied instantly. “He’s a bit hyper. Did he overwhelm you?” “His name is Leo Guillory. He’s the CEO of Stratos Tech. Your line of work is pretty broad, maybe you’ve crossed paths with him before.” My mind was a complete mess. While texting Adrian back, I started googling the other names from the group chat. And the last bit of hope I was clinging to finally died. Max Sterling, youngest son of real estate tycoon Robert Sterling, currently studying in the US. Sam Chen, second son of the founder of South Sea Construction, a bona fide trust fund kid… My brain shut down. My fingers, moving on their own, typed Adrian’s name into the search bar. The results popped up instantly. Adrian Guillory, eldest grandson of the founder of Guillory Holdings, youngest board member of the group, a driving force behind the company’s tech innovations, with a net worth of… I counted the zeros. Then I sucked in a sharp breath and nearly passed out. In the group chat, “Adrian’s Loyal Puppy” was still going. [Adrian’s Loyal Puppy]: Sis-in-law, c’mon, how did you two meet? [Adrian’s Loyal Puppy]: I’m dying here, spill the tea! [Adrian]: We met online. How do you think we met? Online. [Adrian’s Loyal Puppy]: Could you perhaps elaborate… 3 Online dating: proceed with caution. For the first time, I truly understood the weight of that warning. I met Adrian after stumbling upon a help forum post. [User]: “Help, why is one hot dog three dollars, but two hot dogs are five dollars?” I thought the poster was hilarious, so I commented, “I bet you also don’t know the first thing you’re supposed to do after signing up for the $9.99 premium membership.” He replied almost immediately. “YES! I got that one wrong too!” He called me brilliant. A genius. In my 24 unremarkable years of life, I had never been praised so directly. I was instantly intrigued, and we started chatting. Eventually, we exchanged numbers. We weren’t super close at first, until he noticed I was playing a popular mobile game. He asked, “Is it fun?” I replied enthusiastically, “So fun! You should play! I can carry you, I’m a pro.” “Okay, I’ll set up an account… I’m familiar with the genre, but I’ve never actually played this one. I might be terrible, so don’t get mad.” We played together for three months. His skills were average, but his attitude was top-tier. He never raged, his voice was amazing, and he was emotionally stable. And he could actually form coherent sentences! My crush on him grew exponentially, and I decided to make my move. After Adrian and I made it official, our chats became much more relaxed. I have to admit, the guy was my perfect match. Except for one thing. Sometimes, the way he talked was… abstract. His mom called him for dinner: “Returning to the estate to dine with the matriarch.” A friend of his was a public servant: “A colleague in the political sector. It’s inconvenient for him to join our gatherings.” He turned down an arranged date: “I’m not interested in a familial alliance.” I learned. And I quickly began to apply the lesson. My friends needed a fourth for poker: “It’s a meeting of the scions. The game doesn’t start until I arrive.” I was going to a concert for my favorite idol: “Visiting a young protégé I’ve been sponsoring for some time.” I ordered food delivery: “Reviewing a high-risk venture with my partners in the digital culinary space.” Adrian was deeply impressed. “It seems our lifestyles are quite similar.” I sent a “cheers” emoji. “We’re a match made in heaven.” I genuinely thought Adrian and I were just a couple of weirdos with a shared abstract humor. It never occurred to me to doubt him. Until today. My entire worldview has collapsed. Wait a second. Was I the only one playing a game? How are you guys actually this rich and powerful?! 4 I was still staring blankly at my phone when my coworker, Chloe, poked me. “Mia, still on your phone?” She leaned in close. “Rumor has it the CEO might be doing a surprise inspection of our department today,” she whispered. “No idea when, so you’d better not get caught.” Chloe and I started at the company around the same time. Besides us, our department was mostly made up of people with overseas degrees or family connections. Naturally, we banded together for survival. She knew my background was modest and that getting a job at Stratos Tech had been a huge struggle for me. If a manager saw me slacking off, I’d get my pay docked at best. At worst, I’d be on the chopping block for the next round of layoffs. Chloe’s warning was a kindness. I snapped back to reality. The CEO? That’s Leo. Buzz. Buzz. My phone vibrated with a new notification from the group chat. It was Leo. [Adrian’s Loyal Puppy]: Gotta go, duty calls. [Sam_ing]: Where you going? You coming back for dinner? [Adrian’s Loyal Puppy]: Got to do a walkthrough of the departments today. My dad’s orders, can’t skip it. [Adrian’s Loyal Puppy]: @UrbanFatigue We’ll chat later, sis-in-law! [Adrian’s Loyal Puppy]: I’ll treat you to dinner sometime! [Adrian’s Loyal Puppy]: cute_cat.jpg [Sam_ing]: Aren’t you right near the office anyway? [Adrian’s Loyal Puppy]: Yeah, five minutes away. Gotta run. Ten minutes later, I saw him in person. The lively, goofy guy from the internet had transformed into a revered prince, surrounded by his court. Leo was dressed in an impeccable suit, not a single hair out of place. He was flanked by several managers, moving slowly down the hallway. His expression was cool and distant. My supervisors, usually so arrogant, were practically bowing before him… fawning, sycophantic. Leo didn’t linger in the marketing department. His gaze didn’t fall on me for even a fraction of a second. To people like him, we lived in completely different worlds. Wasting their attention on us would be just that: a waste. He was like that. Which meant Adrian was on another level entirely. In that moment, I understood the chasm that separated me from them. 5 So I made a decisive choice: I had to break up with him. 6 It was better to cut my losses now than to be found out later, face the combined wrath of several powerful families, lose my job, lose my dignity, and get blacklisted from the entire industry. This job was hard-won, and I cherished it. These rich kids had no shortage of girlfriends. If I broke up with Adrian, he probably wouldn’t even care that much. It was just a bit of fun, right? But people who have been pampered their whole lives definitely don’t take kindly to being deceived. Even though I truly hadn’t meant to deceive anyone. The quirky little girl who loved playing games had been quietly shattered. I stewed on it for a few days, then started intentionally picking fights with Adrian. My behavior grew increasingly unreasonable. At first, he would patiently try to soothe me, but eventually, even he couldn’t take it anymore. “Babe, is something wrong? Did something happen recently?” “You don’t seem like yourself. You can talk to me about anything (hug).” My eyes lit up. This was my chance! “You think I’m emotionally unstable?” I shot back, full of righteous anger. “What are you trying to say?” [Adrian]: ? “Fine. I get it. You’re tired of me,” I typed. “Let’s just end it. We’re done.” After sending the message, I executed a flawless block-delete-remove SIM card maneuver. With this major threat neutralized, I sat alone in my empty room, nursing a broken heart. Ugh… damn it. Why couldn’t Adrian just be a little bit poor? He had a great personality, was kind, and ridiculously handsome. I really, really liked him. But then, a sense of resignation washed over me. His wonderful personality was probably a direct result of his privileged upbringing. 7 The breakup left me in a funk. Even my coworker Chloe noticed something was off. “Mia, what’s wrong?” I sighed. “We broke up.” She gave me a surprised look, then silently patted my shoulder in sympathy. I picked up a file, ready to lose myself in work, when my team lead called out. “Mia, you don’t look too busy. Go downstairs and get me a coffee.” I rolled my eyes. Again with this. In our department, Chloe and I were the only ones without connections, making us the designated errand runners. Seeing my gloomy mood, Chloe offered, “I can go.” “Don’t worry about it.” I slowly got to my feet. “I could use the fresh air.” I floated down to the lobby like a ghost, picked up the coffee, and was heading back when the private elevator doors opened. Leo and his entourage stepped out. I quickly moved aside. “Mr. Guillory!” Someone rushed up from behind him, completely oblivious to me standing there. He slammed into my shoulder, and the coffee went flying all over him. The entire lobby went silent. I recognized the man: Mark, the head of the marketing department. “Mia!” he screeched, furious. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Leo shot him an impassive look. “You bumped into her.” Mark choked on his words and fell silent. Leo’s gaze fell on the dark stain spreading across Mark’s shirt, his expression one of pure disgust. “Go home and change.” Mark nodded eagerly. “Yes, of course. Then I’ll just…” “We have a meeting with Guillory Holdings today. It’s time-sensitive. I don’t have time to wait for you to change your clothes.” Leo’s eyes shifted, landing on my employee badge. “Marketing Department. Mia.” He pointed a casual finger at me. “You’re coming with us. It’s just for note-taking.” “I remember your project proposal. Your work is solid.” The name “Guillory Holdings” was still ringing in my ears as I was swept up by the group and bundled into a car. 8 Guillory Holdings wasn’t close. The drive took forty minutes, and I spent all forty of them in a daze. The woman sitting next to me must have noticed my anxiety. She leaned over and whispered, “Don’t worry. Our Mr. Guillory and their Mr. Guillory are good friends. This partnership is a sure thing. We’re just going through the motions…” Just going through the motions. I’d just be a background prop, standing behind everyone else. No one would even notice me! I repeated this mantra to myself until my racing heart finally started to calm down. When we arrived at the Guillory Holdings building, Leo’s phone rang. He motioned for us to wait and stepped a few feet away. Unfortunately for me, I have excellent hearing. His voice carried clearly. “He’s been in a really bad mood lately…” “Ran into some kind of scammer…” “I don’t know the details, something about millions of dollars. I was going to tell him to call the police…” My blood ran cold. I couldn’t stop myself from shouting, “What?!” In an instant, every head turned to stare at me. I froze, then with lightning-fast reflexes, I slapped my phone to my ear. “What? The signal’s terrible over here! Hello? Oh, well! I’ll just call you back!” The other executives looked at me with open disdain, whispering among themselves. “So unprofessional.” “No sense of decorum…” “These new hires really need more training.” I didn’t care what they were saying. My mind was consumed by Leo’s words. Scammed out of millions?! Who?! Me?! I swear on my life, I never took a single cent from Adrian during our entire online relationship! Who was spreading these vicious rumors? This was slander! My heart was pounding like a drum. In my state of shock, Leo had already finished his call. We walked into the Guillory Holdings building. Guilt-ridden, I stealthily pulled a mask out of my pocket and put it on. Leo happened to turn around right then and jumped. “Where did you get that?” “I have a bit of a cold,” I mumbled. “Don’t want to get Mr. Guillory sick.” Leo was silent for a long moment. “…And you think my immune system is just fine?” The group around me silently took a step back, creating a perimeter. I was about to say something to ease the tension when Leo’s gaze landed on someone in the distance. A wide grin spread across his face. “Adrian!” I froze, then slowly turned my head. My pupils contracted. This was the first time I had ever truly seen Adrian. He was even more striking in person than in the photos I’d seen online. He had to be at least six-foot-one, with broad shoulders and long legs. He was wearing a simple black shirt and black, half-rimmed glasses. His features were sharp, his eyes piercing. He radiated an intense, elite aura. He walked past me without a second glance, his eyes on Leo. “You’re here? Let’s go. My office.” His voice was deep and smooth. Exactly like it sounded through my phone. I stared at his back, completely dazed. Only five words echoed in my mind. I’m screwed. He’s my type.

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I sent my crush a “Good morning,” “Good afternoon,” and “Good night” text every single day, right on schedule. Three months into chasing him, he finally cracked and bombarded me with messages. “Jane, are you a bot?” I looked at the message on my phone screen, thought for a moment, and replied: “Press 1 to unlock Wifey Mode.” 1. [Good night.] After finishing a long day of video shooting, I picked up my phone and sent my usual message to my crush. Work ended late today, so it was already past midnight. Ever since I confessed my feelings to him, he hadn’t replied to a single message. Sleepiness washed over me. Just as I snuggled under the covers, my phone started buzzing incessantly. [Your ‘Good night’ is exactly two hours, eighteen minutes, and thirty-six seconds later than yesterday!] [Are you texting other men?] [Was it all a lie when you said you only liked me?] [Reply to me right now! Immediately!] [Who chases someone by only sending three generic greetings a day?!] [Jane, are you a bot?] I groggily unlocked my phone. Through my half-asleep haze, I only really processed the last line. I thought for a moment. [Press 1 to unlock Wifey Mode.] The phone went silent instantly. I watched the “Typing…” bubble appear and disappear three whole times before a message finally came through. [R… really?] [1] 2. When I opened my eyes again, it was 1:00 PM the next day. I checked my phone and found someone had been messaging me all night. [If that’s the case, I’ve actually been working on my abs recently. They’re not bad.] [Never mind, this isn’t appropriate.] [Actually, I don’t really want to show them that much.] [You brought it up, I didn’t say I had to show you.] [Why aren’t you replying… did you change your mind?] [Jane, you did this on purpose!] [I hate you. I’m ignoring you!] The man on the other end had clearly stayed up all night. He texted from 1:00 AM until 6:00 AM. Looking at the wall of text, I was dumbfounded. I’m doomed. What on earth did I reply with in my sleep last night? I met Sawyer in a mobile MOBA game. I was playing a mage, and he, playing an invisible assassin, hunted me down the entire match. My final score was 1-26-0. The worst part? My teammates reported me for feeding, and my credit score dropped. Furious, I added him as a friend. [Mage isn’t my main.] [1v1 me in three days if you dare. I’ll destroy you!] He replied with a question mark. [Then who played the 4,000 mage games on your profile?] [Don’t worry about it! Do you accept the challenge or not?] He was silent for a long time. [Accepted.] 3. I successfully added him on text. He agreed to play the mage for our duel. Three days later, we met in the game as agreed. I picked the assassin I had been practicing furiously for 72 hours. I was confident. “Prepare to lose,” I trash-talked over the voice chat. Ten minutes later. I was crying like a boiling kettle. “How is this possible!” “I practiced for three whole days!” The man on the other end sighed. After staying silent, he finally spoke, his tone full of resignation. “Four thousand games and you’re still in Platinum tier. I didn’t know someone could actually be this bad.” “For only three days of practice, you did okay.” “Stop crying. I’ll carry you in ranked mode, okay?” His voice was shockingly attractive. As someone with a voice fetish, I was instantly hooked. I immediately created a lobby and invited him. In just one week, he carried me to the highest rank. We gradually got to know each other. He said his name was Sawyer. I laughed and said he had the same name as a current top-tier pop star. He didn’t respond, just encouraged me to quit my job and pursue my dream of being a beauty influencer. We often stayed on calls until midnight. But sometimes he was weird and would hang up abruptly. One day, I finally mustered the courage to confess to him. I hesitated for a long time. Although we had been connected for a while, he never posted a single photo. How could a truly handsome guy resist posting photos? What if he just had a nice voice but was actually a neckbeard living in a basement? Fine, then we’d just never meet in person! [Do you want to date? The kind where we never meet in real life.] He replied instantly. [?] [Never meet? Am I unpresentable?] I hesitated and made up a hurried excuse. But he never replied after that. I didn’t know what else to say, so I just started sending “Good morning,” “Good afternoon,” and “Good night” every day. This went on for three months. I thought he had blocked me long ago. Now, looking at the screen full of frantic messages, I was dizzy. I sent a tentative reply. [I was half-asleep yesterday and typing nonsense. Don’t take it seriously.] He replied immediately. [I didn’t take it seriously!] [Let’s meet up.] I stared at the words “meet up” for a long time, unable to react. Meet up? How could we? What if he’s a 300-pound, greasy middle-aged man? Not only would his image in my heart be ruined, but what if he saw me—a naturally gorgeous beauty—and refused to let me leave? Online flirting is fine, but offline meetings are dangerous. Seeing I hadn’t replied for a while, he seemed anxious. [You talk about liking me, but you’re scared to meet?] Damn man. He knows I can’t resist a challenge. [Let’s meet!] 4. I pulled the most expensive dress out of my closet. I did my makeup flawlessly. In my head, I was already picturing a dramatic scene where a man falls to his knees at the sight of my beauty. But thinking about reality made me nervous. I opened my drawer and tossed a canister of pepper spray into my bag. I took a taxi to the restaurant. I tiptoed to the entrance and peeked inside. A message popped up. [I’m here. In the corner booth.] But he didn’t say left or right. I was about to ask, but stopped myself. I couldn’t let him know I was here yet. I needed to scout the situation. I looked into the restaurant. In the far right corner sat a man wearing a black baseball cap and a black mask. I couldn’t see his face at all. I looked to the left. That man was short, looked about thirty, and his face was shining with grease under the lights. I closed my eyes. It’s over. That has to be him. What normal person shows up to a first date wearing a hat and mask indoors? So, the other one must be him! I hesitated at the door for a long time. Just as I decided to make a run for it, a hand reached out from behind and tapped my shoulder. I screamed internally. My hand was already in my bag. I whipped out the pepper spray and unleashed a cloud on the man behind me. I heard a miserable groan. Before he could react, I dived into a taxi across the street. “Drive! Go!” The engine roared. I could vaguely hear someone calling my name from behind, but I curled up in the back seat, too terrified to look back. After getting home and calming down, I finally built up the courage to check my phone. [Jane, you played me!] [We agreed to meet, why did you leave?] [You said you liked me, and now you flirt and run?] The wall of messages gave me a headache. I could only make up a lie to stabilize him. [Today was awful. I ran into a pervert at the restaurant entrance.] [I promise I’ll meet you next time!] The man seemed skeptical. He replied slowly: [Really?] I sent a nodding cat GIF immediately. After all, I still needed him to carry me in the game. Suddenly, an email popped up on my work computer. It was an invitation to a major televised makeup competition. I couldn’t believe a big show like this would invite a small-time beauty blogger like me. Suspicious, I opened the invite, my hand trembling on the mouse. It was real! I immediately took a screenshot and sent it to Sawyer. Followed by a smug emoji. [See? I told you my skills are undeniable. You have to watch on time when I’m on the show.] A voice message came back instantly. “Okay, okay, I promise to watch on time.” The tone was doting, making my imagination run wild. If he wasn’t an old uncle, but a tall, handsome guy with an eight-pack… that wouldn’t be so bad.

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I secretly kept a cat in my dorm room. As the only male in our all-girls dorm, my roommates jokingly started calling him “Husband.” Over time, the little guy actually started responding to “Husband” as his name. It was funny calling him that normally. Until one day he snuck out of the dorm, and I had to run all over campus shouting “Husband!” 1 I came back from class to find the little orange tabby I’d been raising for three months was gone. “Guys, Husband is missing!” The whole dorm mobilized, searching the building to no avail. It was the dead of winter. My mind was filled with images of him being caught and thrown out, starving and freezing, or worse, flattened by a car. Ignoring my shame, I searched every nook and cranny of the campus, shouting “Husband!” Passersby gave me strange looks, but I didn’t have the time or courage to explain. I just focused on finding the cat. Suddenly, I looked up and saw a guy holding a cat. Tears streaming down my face, I rushed over: “Husband! I finally found you!” 2 The guy looked terrified. My roommates watched, amused. “Liam, your wife?” The guy holding the cat dodged my lunge defensively. “Miss, please calm down!” I hurriedly explained, “No, no, this cat is mine. His name is Husband.” Who names a cat Husband? “I know you don’t believe me, but you have to.” To prove it, I turned to the cat and called, “Husband!” The little orange tabby reacted immediately, jumping into my arms and purring. Although the misunderstanding was cleared, Liam still lectured me sternly. “Pets aren’t allowed in the dorms. You’re violating school rules and being irresponsible to both yourself and the cat.” In fact, the kitten was a rescue I couldn’t find a home for. Plus, we got attached, and my roommates loved him, so we secretly kept him. The wind blew cat hair into my eyes. The irritation made my eyes red and teary. Seeing this, Liam softened his tone slightly. “Don’t cry… take your Husband back.” 3 Back in the dorm, I told my roommates about the encounter. Jessica, always the pessimist, said, “That guy won’t report you, will he?” Thinking of Liam’s handsome face, he seemed like a decent guy. But recalling his cold lecture, maybe he was a hypocrite. My roommates suggested I treat him to dinner ASAP—partly to thank him, partly as a bribe. I realized I forgot to ask for his contact info. “But I remember what he looks like. I can draw him.” Thanks to my dear mother forcing me to take art lessons, they finally came in handy. I sketched a quick portrait and gave it to our dorm leader, Zoey. She was well-connected in the student union, volunteer association, and various clubs. “Liam, a grad student in Computer Science. Famous ice prince.” Three out of ten posts on the campus confession wall were for Liam. Zoey said many people tried and failed to get his contact info, so this was a blessing in disguise for me. Some blessing. Plenty of people ask for my WeChat too. Gym memberships, nail salons, prenatal centers, tutoring services… Unfortunately, trouble comes in pairs. Soon, I had to see Liam again. 4 In the office, my bald counselor looked at me with disappointment. “Eve, the school just held a meeting emphasizing discipline, especially appropriate conduct between men and women! “And you go and do this? Shouting ‘Husband’ all over campus, proud of yourself?” I didn’t dare confess that Husband was a cat, so I had to take the blame for “inappropriate conduct.” “Go get your boyfriend too!” “Huh? No, no, no need, sir. I’ll definitely tell him!” Calling Liam here would expose everything. Exposure meant my cat on the streets. Streets meant potential roadkill. Seeing my reluctance, the counselor got angrier: “What, showing off your love even here? Go get him!” Outside Liam’s lab, I paced back and forth. Secretly rehearsing: “Liam, can you take the blame for me? “Liam, can we lie together?” Liam would have to be crazy to agree. My mouth seemed to have a mind of its own. My brain prepared the words, but what came out was: “Liam, can you be my Husband?” The man’s eyes widened even more than last time: “Miss, are you serious?” I quickly explained the counselor situation again. “You mean, you want me to pretend to be your boyfriend and get scolded with you?” “Do I look stupid to you?” “No, no, I’m the stupid one! Please help me out of pity for my stupidity.” I clasped my hands together above my head. Liam shook his head and turned away heartlessly. His refusal wasn’t surprising. You’d have to be sick to get scolded with a stranger.

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The first time I saw James Nordling after our divorce was at a college reunion, three years later. He was the center of attention, holding court with a confident smile that froze the moment our eyes met across the room. A few of his loyal friends, drinks in hand, immediately turned on me, their voices dripping with sarcasm. “This is a reunion for Kingston University alumni. What’s someone who graduated from a no-name state school doing here?” “Well, look what the cat dragged in. Isn’t this James’s dark past, Misty Hayes? He wrote ‘Misty-minism’ instead of ‘determinism’ all over his philosophy final for you. Nearly gave the professor an aneurysm.” “Have you no shame? He was your stepbrother. You crawled into his bed and forced him to marry you. Now James’s a married man, and you’re still chasing him! His new wife is a certified genius, not a dimwit like you.” James still wore the watch we’d bought together on his wrist, but a new wedding band now gleamed on his ring finger. Suddenly, every gaze in the room sharpened, turning speculative and cruel. I idly stroked the diamond on my own ring finger and answered with a faint smile. “I’m here to pick up my husband.” James finally looked up, his brow furrowed. “Misty, we divorced three years ago.” I know. But I never said I was here for him. 1 “Shameless. Married, and still desperate enough to be the other woman.” Evan Scott lit a cigarette, his eyes lazily drifting over me. Evan had been my best friend in high school, along with James. He used to be the second-best person to me in the entire world. But when James and I were going through our divorce, he’d sided with James without a moment’s hesitation. Because the girl he was in love with was the third party in my marriage. And he had been helping James hide their affair all along. I was the only one who had been played for a fool from start to finish. “Evan, that’s enough,” James said, his lips a thin line, his voice a cold reprimand. Evan just scoffed, stubbing out his cigarette with an impatient flick. “What’s the big deal? A moron like Misty Hayes is nothing compared to a brilliant woman like Vivian. You were the only one who could ever stand a simpleton like her, letting her drag you down for all those years.” James’s eyes met mine. “Misty isn’t a moron,” he said quietly. Misty isn’t a moron. Coming from a genius like James, it sounded almost comical. But the sixteen-year-old me would have believed him. The year I finished middle school, my mother married James’s father, and our two families merged into one. James and I were the same age, and we ended up in the same public high school. Same class, even. He was ranked last, and I was solidly average. He hated me, so he never spoke a word to me. I’d often see him getting into fights, which always ended with him being disciplined. And that always ended with my mother being called to the school, where she would stand, head bowed, and endure the staff’s rebukes. One night, I went to get a glass of water and found her crying on the sofa in the dark. “Misty,” she whispered, “what can I do to make James accept me?” I didn’t know. All I knew was that after that night, our placid coexistence erupted into all-out war. I laced his drinks with wasabi, poured dirty water into his backpack, and spiked his lunch with laxatives. James finally snapped. “Is that all you’ve got? I’m telling you, Misty, if you can’t take me down, I’ll take down your mother!” We were locked in that standoff for over six months. I thought I would hate James Nordling for the rest of my life. But in the end, he became the only person in the world who still loved me. 2 Our conflict came to an abrupt end after an act of domestic violence. James’s father beat my mother so badly she ended up in the hospital. As she was being loaded into the ambulance, his father was still shouting vile things at her. “I chased you for two years, and for what? You’re pretty, but you’re completely useless. You have no skills, nothing!” My mother was nearly forty. Her whole life, my own father had spoiled her rotten, so of course she didn’t know how to do anything. When James heard those words, his mask of cold indifference shattered. He stared at me in shock, muttering to himself. “So it wasn’t your mom who seduced my dad…” He had always hated my mother, believing she was the homewrecker who had driven his own mother away. None of it mattered anymore. Because after that day, I didn’t have a mother, either. When I went to the hospital with a bouquet of her favorite white freesias, I learned she had run away. She hadn’t taken anything with her. Not even me. Suddenly, Misty Hayes was homeless. I didn’t know where to go. I was wandering the streets late at night when James found me. He looked furious, his eyes red-rimmed. I was terrified he was going to hit me, so I flinched, curling into a tight ball. But then a warm embrace enveloped me, and I heard his voice, softer than I’d ever heard it before. “Misty, come home with me.” He looked right at me. “From now on, I’ll be your whole world.” I took his outstretched hand and held on tight. And so, from the age of sixteen, my entire world became James Nordling. 3 After my mother left, James’s father became even more volatile. Afraid I would get hurt, James moved us out into a small apartment of our own. Life went on, but it was different. I stopped my pranks, and the harsh lines around his eyes softened. He started spending more and more time studying. I couldn’t help but ask him about it. “You used to hate reading. You hated class.” He looked at me seriously, then sighed and gently pinched my cheek. “Misty, I want to give you a better life.” I saw the tips of his ears turn pink, and I nodded fiercely. I decided then and there that I would never be the one to hold James Nordling back. I threw myself into my studies, but while James skyrocketed from the bottom of the class to the very top, I remained stuck in the middle. He’d come home and tutor me until midnight. I’d stare at calculus problems until my head spun. “You’re so dense, Misty,” he’d say with a soft laugh. “But I love how dense you are. It’s infuriatingly cute.” Drowsiness would overwhelm me, the pen slipping from my fingers as I mumbled. “James, can’t you slow down? I can’t keep up.” He told me I would never have to chase him. He would always wait for me. He didn’t. In the end, my denseness became the thing he hated most about me. The thing that annoyed him to no end. 4 “Not a moron? You tutored her for years, and she still only got into some second-rate state school, right?” Evan flicked his lighter open and shut, picking up where he left off. I scanned the room again but saw no sign of my husband, Caleb. Caleb had gone to Kingston, same as James, but they were in different departments. It was unlikely they’d be at the same reunion. He must have sent me the wrong address. I had no energy to rehash the past. “My apologies for the intrusion,” I said, and turned to leave. I sent Caleb a text, but he didn’t reply. My calls went straight to voicemail. I decided to just head home. Just as I reached for my car door, a hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. “Misty… forgive me, please?” James murmured, his gaze lowered, his eyes filled with an emotion I couldn’t decipher. That nickname. It used to make me blush, a secret, playful weapon against his usually stoic demeanor. But later, that same dynamic, brother and sister, became my personal hell. “Have you gotten addicted to acting, James?” I said, yanking my hand away. My face was a blank mask. “I don’t have a brother.” The air grew thick with tension, broken by a sudden, sharp laugh. “Misty Hayes. Fancy seeing you here.” Vivian Marsh strode toward us on sharp heels, as arrogant and ostentatious as ever. The old me would have been intimidated by her presence, filled with a mix of envy and admiration that curdled into insecurity. But now, after that excruciating past had been burned and purged from my soul, all that was left was a calm emptiness. “Misty, why don’t you come home with James and me? Your mother misses you, you know.” I never thought that, three years later, I would be able to say the words so calmly. “I don’t have a mother.” My brother, my mother. They had both chosen her. Vivian. And I had let them go a long time ago. Vivian grabbed my wrist, deliberately revealing the jade bracelet she wore. It was the heirloom James’s mother had left him. I wore that bracelet for ten years. Our relationship had also lasted only ten years. 5 Evan was right. I really was dense. Even with James pouring all his energy into tutoring me, I only managed to get into a state college. He, on the other hand, became the top scorer in the country on the entrance exams and went to Kingston University. We were both in the same city, not too far from each other. We couldn’t see each other every day, but our lives were sweetly intertwined. It was a simple happiness, a memory I will cherish for the rest of my life. James was handsome and brilliant, and women constantly pursued him. But he always made me feel secure. During college, I often visited him on campus. He was so well-known that every little thing he did caused a stir. Soon, threads started appearing on the school forums saying I wasn’t good enough for him. That besides my face, I had nothing. No talent, no background. A simpleton unworthy of a campus legend. James had already made our relationship public. When he found out about the forums, he was furious. He said they just didn’t know how wonderful I was. So, on one of his final exams in a political philosophy class, for every instance of the word “determinism,” he wrote “Misty-minism.” He almost failed the course and was publicly reprimanded by the department for being “lovestruck,” but the story became an campus-wide sensation. He wanted the entire world to know I was his girlfriend. But when it came time for us to get married, he said something else. “Misty, let’s keep our marriage a secret.” “Just give me a few more years. When I’ve made a name for myself, I’ll give you the grand wedding you deserve.” I agreed. Four years into our marriage, James was already incredibly successful. But the wedding I had dreamed of never came. Instead, his infidelity did. 6 On our fourth wedding anniversary, James flew into a rage. It was because I had lost the jade bracelet he’d given me. He stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him. It was the first time in his life he had ever spoken to me so harshly. It was pouring rain that night, but I searched every place I could think of. Then I remembered the little apartment we lived in during high school. James had bought it later. The walls inside were covered with the thousands of photos we had taken over three years. The moment I pushed open the door, my world shattered. The first thing I saw was James pressing another woman beneath him on the floor. The sound of their bodies colliding. My scalp tingled, and the air left my lungs in a silent scream. I knew her. Vivian. James had mentioned her, but only briefly. At first, he’d said her father had forced her into his company and that she was probably going to be a nuisance. But later, he started saying she was incredibly capable, brilliant. And it was around that time that James started calling me dense. We had less and less to talk about. He’d often say things like, “Can you just stop asking? You wouldn’t understand even if I explained it.” “Misty, you’re so dense.” But I was genuinely happy that he had found a partner who was on his level. But now, Vivian was wearing the bracelet, her eyes filled with undisguised provocation. The object I had been tearing myself apart with guilt over, searching for like a stray dog. It turned out I hadn’t lost it at all. James had given it to another woman with his own two hands. She slowly stood up, leaning against James’s chest. “Why so surprised?” she purred. “Your bed in the city, the shower, the floor-to-ceiling windows… we’ve done it everywhere you two have. Today, we just wanted to try the place where you had your first time.” A roaring filled my ears, and my legs gave out. Acting on pure instinct, I grabbed a photo frame from the table and hurled it at them. James shielded her with his body, his eyes blazing red. “Misty, are you insane?!” The man who had promised to be my whole world shoved me to the ground. My hand was covered in shards of glass. The photo… it was the first one we ever took together. He had his arm around me, a proud, possessive grin on his face. Now, it was shattered. And the look in his eyes was pure, unadulterated annoyance. Before I could even process it, another bomb dropped. “Misty, can you stop making a scene? You’re so suffocating! No wonder your own mother didn’t want you!” It turned out my mother had remarried. She had married Vivian’s father and had spent the last ten years doting on Vivian. The fantasy I had clung to for a decade had just become a nightmare. Soon after, James asked for a divorce. I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction, but I was no match for them. Everyone I had ever loved had turned against me. My lover. My best friend. And my mother. 7 James locked me in our villa in the city. For nearly a week, he unleashed all his fury on me. “I won’t divorce you,” I’d repeated, my voice raw. “If you want to marry her, you can dream on.” At that point, our marriage certificate was the only card I had left to play. I was stubborn as a madwoman. A week later, a censored video was leaked online. But the audio was crystal clear. “Brother, I love you the most. Please love Misty a little more for me.” It was from years ago, when he used to travel a lot for work. He said he needed something to comfort him when I wasn’t there. James was always so proper, so I was both shy and surprised when he suggested we film it. James and Vivian were masters of public relations. That one line was enough to throw me to the wolves. And my own mother and my best friend added the finishing touches. My mother accused me of incest, of seducing James, which was why she’d had to leave in the first place. Evan claimed that James had only ever seen me as a sister, that he had cared for me out of pity for years. He said I had repaid his kindness by climbing into his bed, forcing him to take responsibility and marry me. But the final blow came from James himself. I was lying numbly in bed, reading the accusations from my family and friends, when Vivian came to see me. She told me she had confessed her feelings to James back in college. He had rejected her. He told her he wasn’t good enough for her, but if she was willing, she could wait a few years for him. Wait until he was successful enough to stand beside her as an equal. That night, I gave in. I agreed to the divorce. As I signed the papers, I thought back to the past. The sixteen-year-old James, full of ambition, had said he wanted to give me a better life. But the twenty-six-year-old James’s future never included Misty Hayes. I wiped away my tears and forced myself to ask him. “What was I to you? A placeholder?” “A consolation prize until you found the one you really wanted?” He said, “Misty, I did love you. That was real.” I held back my tears. The love was real. And so was the betrayal. 8 During the mandatory cooling-off period, I barely left the house. The scandal was too big. Going outside meant facing anything from verbal abuse and ridicule to outright harassment. The day we were supposed to finalize the divorce, I found out I was pregnant. We had been trying for two years with no luck, but of course, it would happen then. I went back to the small town where we’d gone to high school. I hadn’t asked for anything in the divorce except for that small apartment. I threw out the bed they had slept on and spent my days curled up on the sofa. I listened to music, played my guitar, read books. Whenever I thought of James, I would burn one of our photos. At first, I’d burn hundreds a day, forcing myself to wait at least an hour between each one. Gradually, the number of photos I burned dwindled. I never really took care of the baby inside me. It must have known I didn’t want it. It was a good, quiet baby. For six months, it gave me no trouble at all. But in the sixth month, I got rid of it. Because on the sixth month of our divorce, James and Vivian got married. It was a lavish wedding. Even grander than the one I had imagined James would one day give me. That day, I burned the last photo. The twenty-six-year-old Misty Hayes couldn’t possibly be as foolish as the sixteen-year-old version. What sixteen-year-old Misty clung to so desperately, twenty-six-year-old Misty could finally let go. My world would no longer contain James Nordling. 9 “Misty, you’ve changed. I don’t recognize you anymore. You were never this cold,” James said, his brow knitted in a frown. I curved my lips into a smile. “Really? And you used to say you would only ever love me.” Vivian shot me a venomous glare. “Misty, stop being so shameless. Are you trying to seduce my husband right in front of me?” “I have no interest in your husband,” I said, glancing at James, my heart feeling not a single flicker. I pushed past them. “Get out of my way. I’m going home.” The moment I opened my car door, a man’s loud, frantic shout echoed through the parking garage. “Ma’am! Don’t go! Your husband is tearing this place apart looking for you!” A young man, pale and out of breath, skidded to a stop in front of me. It was Leo, my husband’s brother. “Oh, thank God you’re okay, Misty. My brother was about to kill me.” It took me a second to process what was happening. When I looked up, James’s face was frozen. He opened his mouth, but only managed to force out a few words. “You’re married?”

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I debuted at the same time as the nation’s sweetheart, Serena Xu, but she has overshadowed me at every turn. To leech off her fame, I deliberately staged “accidental” run-ins, copied her outfits, and paid for PR articles claiming I wore them better. I thought bad publicity was still publicity. I never expected the internet to have a mind of its own. instead of hating me, they started shipping us as a “Rivals-to-Lovers” couple. [OMG, the Leopard and the Cat are matching again today! Stop pretending! When are you two going public?] After a busy day of scheming, I opened the comment section and felt the sky collapse. No, seriously… is this legal? 1 My name is Zoe Lane. Since I was a child, I’ve aspired to be a top-tier Hollywood star. Unfortunately, I’m the only daughter of a business tycoon, with millions in assets waiting for me to inherit. When applying for college, I tearfully gave up my dream film school and went to an Ivy League university for business, per my parents’ demands. However, under the double pressure of corporate finance and bland cafeteria food, I was diagnosed with mild depression upon graduation. Worried about my health, my parents finally relented and gave me five years of freedom. We made a deal: If I could become an A-list star within five years, they wouldn’t force me to take over the family business. If not, I had to obediently come home and become the CEO. 2 I don’t know why, but I was born feeling like I was made for stardom. Before entering the industry, I went to a psychic in Venice Beach to read my fortune. The psychic looked at me, looked at the tarot cards, and her face grew grave. Seeing this, I didn’t bat an eye. I stuffed a stack of cash into her hand and asked her to read the cards again. The psychic cleared her throat and said I was destined for “heat.” I was perfect for the entertainment industry. Only later did I realize what she meant. The “heat” she saw was the dumpster fire of my career. After starring in five consecutive flops, I looked at my dismal engagement numbers and doubted myself for the first time. Don’t mess with me; I’m aggressively unpopular right now! Seeing my depressed look, my assistant advised me to relax. I listened, opened TikTok, and was immediately hit by a critical strike. In the video, Serena Xu was wearing a black trailing gown, holding a golden trophy, and calmly delivering her acceptance speech. Looking at her exquisite, aloof profile, I ground my teeth in jealousy. Serena and I debuted on the same talent show. In three years, she had become an Oscar-winning actress, while I remained a D-list idol. I looked gloomy. “Why is she always one step ahead of me?” My assistant instinctively replied, “Probably more than one step.” Me: “…?” Although the gap in our status was wide, did she have to emphasize it? I gritted my teeth. “Don’t forget who pays your salary.” My assistant went silent, offering only an awkward smile. After a moment of emo time, I jumped off the couch. Even though I only had two years left on my bet with my parents, I wouldn’t admit defeat so easily. I ordered my assistant, “In three minutes, I want Serena Xu’s schedule for the next three months.” If I couldn’t get famous naturally, I’d become a “coattail rider.” And Serena was the unlucky victim I chose. For the next three months, I turned down all other engagements and tailored my flight routes entirely to Serena’s schedule. No matter what major event she attended, I would copy her makeup and outfit, pretend it was a coincidence, and repeatedly walk past the event location. Then, I’d post a video on TikTok as “evidence.” Hard work pays off. One day, a video my assistant casually shot went viral. In the frame, I glanced carelessly at the camera, then dragged my long tulle skirt up the stairs without looking back. Paired with a catchy beat, the video broke five million likes in less than three days. At first, the comments were full of generic thirst traps. But soon, sharp-eyed netizens noticed something: [Am I the only one who thinks this dress looks familiar?] [What a coincidence, my girl Serena wore this three months ago. Beautiful women have similar tastes.] [Passerby here. At first glance, I thought Zoe was Serena.] [Can we talk about how this idol is copying Serena’s makeup and style?] [Eh, even though they look alike, the Shadow Queen doesn’t own a patent on this style.] [Umm, but Zoe used to be the ‘sweet girl’ type. This change is too deliberate…] 3 Seeing the fanbases on the verge of war, I quickly contacted a bunch of gossip blogs and told them to fan the flames. In an instant, the internet was flooded with “Who Wore It Better” articles: [Same old money aesthetic. Oscar winner Serena Xu vs. Idol Zoe Lane. Who wins? Netizens say Zoe takes the crown!] [Zoe Lane clashes with Serena Xu in magazine shoots. Who won? Personally, Zoe pulls off this style better!] Serena’s fans quickly arrived to control the narrative: [Speechless. Serena is so chill, how did she get entangled with this drama queen?] [Not sure, don’t care, but Serena’s aura wins. Let’s focus on her new movie!] [I want to barf looking at Zoe’s plastic face!] I put down my phone with satisfaction. I thought bad publicity was still publicity. I never expected that after a busy day, when I opened the comments section, the wind had completely changed direction: [Hehe, when two men stand together you ship them. When two women do it, you compare them.] [Otherwise? Tell me how to ship two women?] [Check out the ‘Zero-Gravity’ ship (Zoe + Serena). Invest now, thank me later.] [OMG, the Leopard and the Cat are matching again today! Stop pretending! When are you going public?] [Moms are practically feeding the sugar directly to our mouths, boohoo!] Ah, what strange thing has infiltrated the chat? Confused, I typed “Zero-Gravity Ship” into the browser. I didn’t know until I searched, but I was startled. It was the ship name for me and Serena. No, sisters, is this legal? A ship can be niche, but it shouldn’t be hallucinations! I frowned and scrolled down, seeing many hot posts: [Zoe never wears backpacks, but today she wore the brand Serena just endorsed. Admit it, Zoe, you’re super in love!] [Rumor has it: Zoe had a commercial this week but suddenly canceled it. The next day she appeared at the same airport as Serena. My guess? Secret date!] My mouth dropped into an “O” shape. What do you mean I’m in love? I just purely love being a drama queen! Scrolling further, there was all kinds of fan art. The first few were quite pure, but the last one showed me in a maid outfit, with Serena holding my chin and feeding me wine, captioned: [Disobedient puppies need to be punished by Big Sister ^_^] I squeezed my eyes shut in terror. Don’t do this to me, I’m a hopeless straight girl! Just as I wanted to exit the topic, I glanced at the follower count. Twenty thousand. That was more than my actual active fans. I suddenly couldn’t bear to leave. Actually, I had been shipped with male stars before. But either there was no chemistry, or after the show ended, the few fans I gained were poached by the male side. Not only that, they would turn around and step on me, calling me a leech, a green tea b*tch, a flop. I accepted being called a green tea, but calling me a flop was intolerable! But shipping with Serena seemed to have no such worries. Everyone in the industry said she was super zen, didn’t like surfing the internet, and focused entirely on acting. She was the perfect candidate to leech off. From that day on, I paid even more attention to Serena’s every move and deliberately manufactured artificial sugar. When a reporter asked if she was dating, Serena denied it: “I have no plans to find a boyfriend in the near future.” That night, I posted a nine-grid selfie set captioned: “Tsk tsk, I’m a girl~” When the host asked her to summarize her new pet movie in one sentence, Serena said: “Puppies can’t say I love you, but they are good at expressing love through action.” I immediately posted a daily vlog of my dog, captioned: “Who’s coming to take this well-behaved puppy home?” When Serena posted behind-the-scenes footage of filming underwater, saying it was cold. I “casually” posted a landscape photo captioned: “It won’t be cold if we hug~” The CP fans went crazy. Not only that, I spent big money to hire many high-popularity artists, writers, and editors. I had them publish fan art, fan fiction, and fan edits on a schedule, and promoted their works. With this smooth combo, in less than half a year, the popularity of the “Zero-Gravity” ship skyrocketed, bringing me huge exposure. Then, my agent booked me a travel reality show. The production team was generous with the budget, and I played happily with the other guests all day. However, in the evening, the director suddenly announced a surprise guest was joining. I clapped along cooperatively, but felt a vague unease inside. The next second, a woman in a white dress carrying a suitcase walked in from outside. I looked up and met her cold eyes. 4 The moment I saw Serena Xu. My brain crashed. Wasn’t she filming a new movie in the mountains? Why did she suddenly appear here? I wondered why the director smiled so kindly at me today; he was waiting for this! The live chat overlay (Danmu) instantly boiled over: [Moms finally share the same frame ahhh!] [Serena, didn’t you say you wouldn’t do variety shows? You broke your rule to see your wife!] [So awkward, I’m flushing for them.] [What will they say? Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!] [Ah, the lilies of my hometown are blooming so beautifully!] I lowered my head guiltily. Although in the eyes of netizens, Serena and I were just one step away from a public announcement. In reality, we didn’t know each other at all. We hadn’t even exchanged contact info. The director, that old fox, stopped pretending. Ignoring the staff nearby, he called me out by name to help Serena with her luggage. Hearing this, Serena froze for a moment, waving her hand hesitantly: “I can carry it myself… hey?” Before she could finish, I had already carried the luggage to my room door in one breath. I leeched so much of her fame; carrying her luggage was the least I could do. However, I suddenly realized the rooms on the second floor were full. Where would Serena stay? The director’s punchable voice sounded behind me: “Oh my, I almost forgot. We don’t have enough rooms in the villa. Since our Zoe is so welcoming, Serena, you can share a room with Zoe.” I was stunned. This director dared to sell the ship harder than I did! Just as I wanted to politely refuse, Serena’s eyes curved slightly, and she nodded at me: “Sorry to trouble you, Zoe.” Her smile was clean, like snow melting in early winter. I cleared my throat and swallowed my refusal: “No trouble at all~”

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