Category: English

  • My boyfriend stood up my parents five times for his childhood friend. I’m calling off the wedding.

    I dated Ethan for eight years. Eight years of missed birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays because his “girl-best-friend” always had some kind of emergency. “Dinner can wait! Jessica’s completely wasted, and who knows what could happen to a girl like her alone at a bar?” He’d said, time and again. I looked him straight in the eye, trying to keep my voice calm. “If you ditch my parents again, we’re done.” He hesitated, his departure momentarily stalled. Then, he scoffed. “Seriously, Chloe? Are you always going to resort to ultimatums every time you don’t get your way? I can’t keep putting up with your drama!” And with that, he was gone. The door slammed shut, and I numbly called my parents to cancel. This wasn’t working. This was Ethan’s apartment. I splashed some water on my face in the bathroom and started packing. I didn’t have much to take – a single suitcase would do. Ethan always acted like I was a spoiled heiress who had no concept of money. He’d given me the cold shoulder, turning me into a ghost in his apartment, when I bought designer things; he once said he couldn’t afford someone like me if I wanted to marry him. But I was only buying my daily necessities. After that, I started keeping my expensive stuff in my own house – a villa downtown – and only kept the cheap things here. I stood in the living room, suitcase in hand, and glanced back at everything I had known. Ethan was right – he couldn’t afford me. Even though he seemed like some hotshot, young assistant professor, he wouldn’t have been able to afford this place if I hadn’t pulled some strings and secretly covered most of the down payment. I couldn’t even brag about it. I was afraid he’d reject the apartment and accuse me of being pretentious. My eyes started to sting, and a wave of hurt washed over me. Taking a deep breath, I pushed down the tears and started for the door. Just then, click-clack – the front door opened from the outside, and a singsong voice chirped, “Ethan! I saw the code you punched in. Next time, I’m just coming right in!” She was being playful. Ethan’s voice, normally so casual, was low and serious. “Come whenever you want, it’s my place anyway…” He didn’t finish the sentence because he saw me. “Chloe…” He frowned slightly, as if about to say something, then noticed the suitcase. “Traveling for work?” His face was flat. “We broke up,” I said. “So I’m moving out.” Jessica’s face was comically exaggerated, and her mouth drooped into an exaggerated frown. “No way! You’re breaking up with him just because he picked me up?” I didn’t want to waste energy on her. Jessica’s act was so transparent. Even the worst “pick me” girl I’d ever met had better acting skills. But it didn’t matter. Ethan always sided with her, and I always lost. I started pushing my suitcase towards the door. Jessica, ignored, gave Ethan a pointed shrug. Ethan’s face instantly darkened. “Who are you giving the stink eye to? When are you going to get over your spoiled rich-girl attitude, Chloe? You can’t always run away when things don’t go your way!” I gripped the suitcase handle tightly, barely managing to hold back the tears. I forced my voice to stay even. “You don’t have to put up with me anymore. Goodbye.” Terrified he’d see me cry, I practically ran out the door. Behind me, Jessica’s voice was shrill. “Seriously, what’s her deal?” “She leaves behind a house full of stuff. She’s overreacting, right?” “Bro, I feel so bad for you. Working your butt off all day and coming home to deal with a diva, how miserable.” My pace quickened until their voices faded away entirely. Back at my house, I saw that Liam had texted. [I land tomorrow at 3 PM. Dinner?] The next second, my mom called, thrilled that Mrs. Thompson told Liam that I was going on a date, and Liam booked a flight home, and made his mom tell my mom to not let me go out with anyone else. Liam and I were close growing up. The year I wanted to bring Ethan home to meet my parents, he left for Europe. We never spoke again. I didn’t know that… I replied. [I’ll pick you up tomorrow.] 2 I had trouble sleeping. I didn’t wake up until 11 AM because the doorbell was ringing. Annoyed, I ran a hand through my hair and headed downstairs. It was Ethan. I was completely awake now, all the sleepiness evaporated. I stared at him, a strange buzzing feeling in my arm. “What…what are you doing here?” Ethan’s expression softened when he saw my disheveled appearance. It looked like he wanted to judge me. I expected him to call me lazy. After a moment, he said, “I came to take you to lunch.” He paused, his tone a fraction gentler. “I was out of line yesterday. I made things difficult with your parents. It won’t happen again.” “There won’t be a next time.” I stopped myself. Saying anything felt useless. I’d said everything I could say. I’d said it a million times. If it made any difference, we wouldn’t be here. “I’m having lunch with a friend. I can’t.” I started to close the door, but he pushed against it. “I thought I told you to stop hanging around with those deadbeats. All they do is drink and party. They’re parasites. Hang around them too much, and you’ll end up just like them!” His contempt stole my breath, but I laughed. “Drinking and partying is what your best friend does, right? And you’re around her all the time.” His face went cold instantly. “Don’t you dare compare Jessica to your lowlife friends, Chloe! I laughed. “Fine. Get out of the way. I’m closing the door.” He pressed on. “It’s almost noon, and you’re still sleeping. You need to be on my watch all the time or else you slack off, you don’t have goals. What’s the difference between that and walking dead?” “Ethan!” I snapped, my voice shaking. “It’s none of your business! We broke up!” He was silent, looking at me as if he couldn’t process what I’d said. After so many years, I’d never said the word “breakup” and never moved out. I’d always been the one on the defensive. Seeing that lost look on his face was something new. He looked at me, then softened his tone. “Just come to lunch. It’s not good to skip meals. We can talk it through.” I balled my hands into fists. “There’s nothing left to talk about.” He closed his eyes, fighting his irritation. “Chloe, stop acting like a kid. We’ve been together for eight years. You’re ending it over one fight? How do you think that makes me feel?” How did he think? He only cared about his “best friend.” It seemed like I had to eat lunch, so I agreed to make a point and leave him for good. I got dressed and walked with him to the parking lot. I reached for the passenger door. Ethan opened the door first. “Sit in the back. Jessica’s still learning to drive, so I need to be in the passenger seat to help her.” I froze. Jessica poked her head out, waving cheerfully. “Hey, Chloe! I’m your chauffeur today!” 3 Ethan glanced at me, waiting for me to move. “Jessica’s here to apologize.” Jessica giggled. “Sorry, Chloe! I got drunk last night, so Ethan bailed on you. I am so sorry! I’m buying lunch as my way of saying sorry, so don’t break up with him.” I took a breath, rolling my eyes as I grabbed my purse and walked towards the house. Ethan grabbed my wrist. “Where are you going?” I smiled at him. “Jessica is buying, right? I know a great restaurant, but it’s hard to find. I’ll drive ahead and lead you. Then, I have to go to the airport to pick up a friend.” He frowned, lowering his voice. “Jessica isn’t a spoiled brat like you, okay? Don’t pick an expensive place.” I ignored him and looked at Jessica. “Jessica, can I pick the restaurant?” Jessica agreed immediately. “Sure!” We stopped at my favorite five-star restaurant. As we got out, I saw Jessica give Ethan a brave, forced smile, before acting defeated. “Let’s go.” Ethan glared at me. I ignored him, and when we got inside, a server handed each of us a menu. Before the meal, Jessica and Ethan ordered salad. I ate heartily, ignoring their glares. When the bill came, it was $3,600. Jessica gasped. “How is that possible?!” The waiter smiled politely. “This bottle of wine was $1,999.99.” She looked pale, slowly pulling out her phone. Her gaze flickered to Ethan. Ethan sighed and gave the server his card. “I’ll pay.” Jessica’s face brightened. I scoffed. That explained why she agreed so quickly. As we left the restaurant, Ethan said to Jessica, “Wait for me in the car.” He caught up to me, grabbing my wrist. “Chloe! Are you only happy when you’re flexing? I thought you were different from those losers, but you’re just like them!” I met his gaze. “I’m not trying to flex. This is just my normal. She said she was paying, so I did what I wanted. Don’t be bitter.” “Don’t you have any empathy? Don’t you know her financial situation?” I raised an eyebrow. “Then why did she say I can pick the place?” He started to shout. I rolled my eyes. “Sorry, I don’t do charades.” I took my arm back and went to the airport. I heard Ethan shouting in the background. Later, when I arrived at the airport, I hugged Liam hello. We got dinner later. It was still early, so I asked him to hang out because he just came back. But, suddenly, it turned into me shopping. Liam was following behind, holding all my bags, without complaining. I just entered a store, and I heard shouting. “I bought it here. The tags are still on. Why can’t I return it?” Jessica? 4 The sales associate kept smiling. “I am sorry, ma’am. Lamerpremen items can only be exchanged within two weeks of purchase. Because you don’t have a receipt, we can’t return the product. Sorry.” “It’s a real product! You can check it!” Jessica and Ethan were by the checkout stand. “Sorry ma’am, we don’t do returns.” Jessica kept yelling. I was over this and wanted to leave. But she was holding a silk blouse, and I paused. When I packed, I couldn’t find this shirt. How did Jessica have it? I was angry, and I interrupted Jessica. “Can you speak English? They don’t do returns, okay? It doesn’t matter if it’s real or not.” Jessica froze. The sales associates looked relieved. Ethan’s face was cold. He probably wanted to yell at me, but he noticed Liam. He turned towards me, confused. “Who is this?” I grabbed the shirt from Jessica’s hand. “Jessica, I lost the same shirt. Where did you get this?” Jessica’s breath hitched. She was guilty. She couldn’t answer. Ethan frowned. “Chloe, are you saying she stole it from you?” Jessica became more aggressive. “Liam gave this to me! He knew this! You’re just mad because I look good in it!” Liam laughed. “Lamerpremen has one of everything.” The sales associate smiled. “Ma’am, this is a real shirt.” Jessica looked pale. Ethan frowned. “I didn’t, I… ” She started crying to Ethan. Liam put the bags down and rapped the counter. “Call the police.” The sales associate nodded, and the phone beeped. “Ethan!” Jessica cried. “I got drunk and threw up. I took a shower and borrowed a shirt. I forgot about it. There were so many shirts; I couldn’t keep track…” Ethan sighed, looking disgusted. He turned to me. “Chloe, I didn’t know she did this. I never cared…” The sales associate dialed 9-1-1, and Jessica jumped and grabbed the phone. “Stay out of it! We can fix this!” The sales associate jumped back, shocked. Ethan’s face became colder. He pinched the bridge of his nose, like he used to do when I had no goals. I said, “The shirt will be paid for. Or go to jail.” Ethan nodded. “She will pay for the shirt. Chloe, I am so sorry.” He looked at Liam, then softened his tone. “Come home. I didn’t like the nights alone.” Liam stared at the sales associate, and smiled. “My girlfriend loves your new shirt. Wrap it up.” The sales associate blushed. Ethan’s face flushed. “Girlfriend?

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  • The Missing Wife

    Six months ago, my wife vanished without a trace. Six months later, I watched her get bought by another man, like some kind of toy. It all started with that trip she took. 1. My wife’s name was Sarah. Twenty-nine years old, with looks and a figure that could give some B-list actresses a run for their money. The kind of drop-dead gorgeous woman who turns every head on the street, twice. That day, Sarah said a girlfriend had invited her on a trip, and she’d be back in a couple of days. I didn’t ask where she was going, just told her to be safe. I even Venmo’d her five hundred bucks. But three days later, her phone went straight to voicemail. Then, nothing. Complete radio silence. I rushed down to the police station to file a missing person report. The officer told me the last place her phone pinged was at LAX. Based on my description of the situation, the cops guessed Sarah might have ended up somewhere south of the border, maybe Mexico, maybe further. Hearing “south of the border” immediately brought to mind all those horror stories you see online – cartel kidnappings, organ harvesting, human trafficking, electric shocks, women being abused… terrifying stuff. That day, practically choking back tears, I begged the police to do whatever it took to bring her back. But they told me they could only do their best. After all, nobody knew for sure if she’d really gone down there. A month later, a video clip from my buddy Nate confirmed the police’s hunch. Sarah was definitely somewhere bad, caught up in something dangerous. It felt like I’d been plunged into ice water. My wife, always so careful, so cautious – how could she end up in a place like that? The video was maybe twenty seconds long. Through the shaky camera work, you could tell it was a big casino. At least twenty gambling tables visible. Gamblers totally engrossed in their games. And there was Sarah, wearing a skimpy black bikini, bunny ears perched on her head. Smiling the whole time as she dealt cards at one of the tables. Seeing that, one term immediately jumped into my head: casino bunny dealer. Sarah hated gambling with a passion. How the hell did she end up dealing cards in some shady casino down south? No, impossible, this isn’t real, I thought. But it was unmistakably Sarah. What made my blood boil, though, was seeing guys openly groping her. Shoving cash into her bikini top. Slapping her ass. Filthy grins plastered on their faces. My fists clenched so hard my knuckles turned white. I was shaking with rage. 2 After watching the video, the first thing I did was track down Nate. Nate used to have a serious gambling problem, but he cleaned up his act and now runs a local poker room. He told me he saw the video circulating in some online group. Recognizing Sarah as the dealer, he forwarded it to me immediately. Nate said the casino she was in was one of the biggest, most notorious operations down there – the “Golden Paradise.” He told me that place didn’t just make money off gambling. They had plenty of other shady, illegal ways to turn a profit. Things like running phone scams, even black market organ trading, were supposedly routine. But the quickest, safest money-maker for them was selling women. Those scum categorized the women they lured or trafficked into four types for sale. Exactly what those categories were, Nate didn’t know. Nate’s words reminded me of a picture Sarah posted on her Instagram three days before she disappeared – a selfie with her “girlfriend.” Damn it. It had to be that bitch who tricked Sarah into going down there. That absolute piece of trash. Don’t let me ever find her. “Nate, man, I know you’ve got connections. You gotta help me figure something out. Anything to get Sarah back. I’ll do whatever it takes. I’m begging you, man.” “Luke, don’t be like that. You and Sarah helped me out a ton back when I was deep in my gambling mess. But… look, once someone ends up at the ‘Golden Paradise,’ they almost never make it out alive. And once those guys have someone, even the cops have a hard time getting them out quickly.” “So there’s really no other way?” I sank to the floor, completely hopeless. After a long silence, Nate pulled me up. “It’s not completely hopeless, Luke. For Sarah… are you willing to take a gamble?” “Yes. Anything to save Sarah. Whatever it takes. Even my life,” I said, my voice firm. Nate nodded, handed me a cigarette, and told me to wait a second. He pulled out his phone and made several calls. He was speaking in rapid-fire Spanish, using terms I didn’t understand – casino lingo, probably. I knew Nate was trying to reach someone for me. Someone who could get my wife out. 3 After a lot of effort and calling in favors, Nate finally managed to connect me with someone. The “connection” was a guy named Donnie. Nate told me Donnie was probably the only person who could help rescue Sarah. Because the “Golden Paradise” had an unwritten rule. Gamblers who won big could trade their chips for any of the women currently “for sale.” Including the female dealers. Hiring someone to gamble for me – that was the plan, the only plan, to save my wife. My heart was pounding with anxiety when Nate arranged for me to meet Donnie. Seeing him, I was taken aback. The Donnie Nate had described turned out to be a young guy, maybe twenty-five or twenty-six. Casual clothes, canvas sneakers, a standard buzz cut. A crescent-shaped scar curled near the corner of his eye. He looked almost bookish, not at all like a seasoned gambler who’d spent years in casinos. Could a guy this young really rescue my wife from that hellhole? I couldn’t help but doubt it. But Nate swore Donnie was the best gambler he knew. I showed Donnie the video of Sarah. He just muttered two words, “Serves her right,” and got up to leave. Seeing that, I dropped to my knees right there. But the guy didn’t even glance back at me. Nate quickly followed him out, pleading with Donnie to help. Five minutes later, Nate came back to the booth, looking dejected. I knew Donnie had refused. But then, surprisingly, Donnie came back. This time, his eyes seemed a little softer. “Going to the ‘Golden Paradise’ requires at least a hundred grand just to get in the door. You got that?” “No.” Donnie turned to leave again. “But I can sell my house! Donnie, give me three days.” “Three days?” Donnie shook his head. “Those guys are unpredictable, ruthless. Three days from now, I can’t guarantee your wife will still be alive. Don’t let the dealer job fool you. Tomorrow, she could be moved somewhere else.” “Somewhere… somewhere else?!” A cold sweat broke out on my back. I quickly changed my tune. “No, one day! I can get the money together by tomorrow.” “Okay. Tomorrow, 1 PM, at the airport.” As he was leaving, the young man added one more thing. “I gotta tell you upfront. At the table, I’ve got a ninety percent chance of winning. But whether I can actually save your wife, whether she’s even still alive… that’s up to fate.” With that, Donnie left without looking back. What had this young guy been through? His eyes were sharp as knives, and he talked like someone much older. I didn’t have time to dwell on Donnie’s backstory. Back home, I immediately took out a second mortgage on the house. I hit up everyone I knew, borrowed from Nate, my sister, and my brother-in-law. Finally, I scraped together one hundred fifty thousand dollars for the gambling stake. It was everything I had. But to save Sarah, I had to bet it all. Whether we’d win or not, was entirely up to chance now. 4 The next day, I met Donnie at the airport with the $150,000 cash. We first flew down to San Diego, then caught another flight across the border to Tijuana, landing in the infamous “City of Sin.” By the time we got there, it was already 4 PM. The rickety taxi Donnie had arranged beforehand was already waiting. After a bumpy ride lasting over an hour, Donnie and I finally arrived at the casino where Sarah was being held – the “Golden Paradise.” Getting out of the cab, Donnie actually told me to give the driver a thousand bucks. I wasn’t thrilled about it, but I did it anyway. It was now 6 PM. Donnie told me the “Golden Paradise” event where you could trade chips for women didn’t start until 8 PM. So we had two hours to kill, but resting was the last thing on my mind. I just wanted to find Sarah as fast as possible and get her the hell out of there. At the entrance of the “Golden Paradise,” Donnie made a call, speaking Spanish. Soon, four tough-looking guys covered in tattoos came out of the casino. Two of them looked like security, each holding a shotgun, faces grim. They were respectful towards Donnie, but eyed me with suspicion. Not until Donnie said something to them in Spanish did their expressions soften slightly. The shotguns they held were lowered a bit. Then, two of them patted Donnie and me down. After confirming we weren’t carrying any weapons, a bleach-blond guy spoke to me in heavily accented English, “Friend, welcome to ‘Golden Paradise.’ Good luck tonight. Please.” I nodded, forced a smile, and mumbled, “Thanks.” Then, we followed them inside. It was my first time ever in a real casino, and the scene definitely blew me away. The main floor was packed – poker, blackjack, roulette, baccarat, pai gow, slot machines, everything imaginable. Donnie first had someone get us two rooms, then exchanged all our cash for chips. After that, Donnie told me to give each of the four goons ten thousand dollars worth of chips as a tip. Adding the taxi fare and the room cost, we’d already blown through almost fifty grand. This was money I’d scraped together through hell and high water. I started to suspect Donnie might be playing me. Donnie seemed to read my mind. He leaned back on the bed in his room, eyes closed. “You gotta spend money to make money, Luke. If you want to save your wife, this cash has to be spent.” I nodded, pretending to understand. But deep down, I was questioning if this young guy really had the skills. I glanced at the clock on the wall. Just past 7 PM. Still an hour until the “event” started. Every second felt like torture. I just wished time would speed up.

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  • The Adopted Daughter

    My husband Mark and I had been married for five years. We had one daughter, Chloe, and while we weren’t exactly rolling in dough, we owned a house in the city and a car. A big plus? I didn’t have to deal with my mother-in-law breathing down my neck, since she lived back in their hometown. Life was pretty comfortable. My friends often told me how lucky I was, that I’d married a good guy with minimal family drama. Until one day. I was about six months pregnant with our second child. We were visiting Mark’s family back home for the holidays when my mother-in-law suddenly told me I should let Mark’s older brother, David, adopt Chloe. See, when they were kids, David got into a fight defending Mark and ended up with a permanent limp. Because of it, no woman had ever wanted to marry him. My mother-in-law carried a lot of guilt over David’s injury and worried constantly about him growing old alone with no one to care for him. So, she set her sights on my daughter, Chloe. “Sarah,” my mother-in-law started, trying to sound reasonable, “I saw a psychic, and she said this baby you’re carrying is another girl. Since they’re both girls, why not let David raise Chloe for you? It would be a big help, wouldn’t it?” Was she serious?! This was my child – the one I carried for ten months and endured agonizing pain to bring into the world! My blood ran cold. I forced myself to stay calm. “Mom,” I said, trying to keep my voice even, “even if this baby is another girl, Chloe is still my daughter.” My direct refusal clearly annoyed her. “Sarah, don’t you understand? If it wasn’t for Mark back then, would David be like this now? Of course, he was the older brother, protecting his little brother was the right thing to do. But now, as Mark’s wife, shouldn’t you help Mark repay that debt to his big brother?” “Mom, that’s not how it works,” I argued. “We both know David saved Mark, and Mark and I are grateful. We’ve helped him out plenty over the years, financially and otherwise. But giving him our daughter? I will not agree to that.” “What’s wrong with letting him adopt her?” she snapped back, glaring at me. “Are you and Mark just swimming in money? Raising all these girls who are just going to get married off and leave anyway.” She continued, “You’ve got two daughters, give one to David. He helps raise her, you repay the debt – it’s a win-win! How can you not see something so simple? Your fancy college degree hasn’t made you any smarter than this old woman!” Listening to her twisted logic made my head pound. I knew arguing was pointless. She was stuck in her old-fashioned ways, valuing sons over daughters, and nothing would change her mind. “Mom, I’m not feeling well, my stomach hurts,” I lied. “I’m going to lie down for a bit. We can talk later tonight.” “Wait, Sarah, your brother-in-law is waiting to hear…” I quickly slipped into the guest room and shut the door, hearing her muttering outside, “…popping out girls who are just a burden… offer someone to help raise one and she acts insulted… what kind of education is that…” Trying not to let her words upset the baby, I took deep breaths to calm down. I decided I’d tell Mark everything when he got back and let him handle his mother. There was no way, absolutely no way, I would let my daughter be raised by a man like David. I remembered a few visits back home… getting up late one night for water and catching David in the den, watching porn on his laptop. When he saw me, he didn’t even flinch, didn’t try to hide it. Just stared right back at me. A man like that could never be a good father. 2 Later that evening, the moment I heard keys jiggling in the lock, I darted out of the room just as Mark walked in. “Honey! You’re back,” I rushed over, taking his coat. “Come on, let’s get you changed in our room.” I practically dragged him down the hall before his mom could emerge from the kitchen. Mark stumbled slightly. “Whoa, Sarah, slow down! Remember you’re pregnant.” I shut the bedroom door behind us and turned to face him, anger bubbling up. “You remember I’m pregnant, so why aren’t you handling your mother?” “My mom? What did she do now?” “Your mom told me this afternoon that we should let David adopt Chloe! Can you believe that? David! He’s a single man, never raised a kid in his life! How could he possibly take care of her? Besides, Chloe’s a little girl, it’s completely inappropriate for her to live alone with him! And your mom actually expects Chloe to take care of him someday? She’s only four! And this whole ‘repaying a debt’ thing? Is she serious? Has she lost her mind?” I unloaded on him, and Mark’s expression grew darker with every word. “Are you done?” he asked sharply. “You’re a mother now, Sarah. Show some respect. That’s my mom you’re talking about. ‘Lost her mind’? What if Chloe hears you talking like that and picks it up?” He had a point there, and I felt a pang of guilt. “Okay, fine, maybe I shouldn’t have said it like that,” I mumbled, “but I was just so angry. And you should hear the things she said… You know I usually respect her.” Mark sighed, took off his jacket, and gently guided me to sit on the bed. “Look,” he explained, “Mom mentioned this to me before. And honestly… I’ve thought about it, and maybe it’s not the worst idea.” My eyes shot wide open. He quickly put his hands on my shoulders. “Just hear me out,” he pleaded. “David got hurt because of me when we were kids. His leg… no girl ever wanted him after that. I owe him, Sarah. Big time. And besides, Mom had that reading… you know, the psychic said this baby is another girl. So, we’d still have our younger daughter even if Chloe went to live with David. It could work out.” Like mother, like son. His reasoning was exactly the same as hers. I stood up, staring at him in disbelief. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Are you crazy, Mark?! That’s your daughter! You’d just… give her away? What kind of father are you?!” “It’s not ‘giving her away’!” he retorted. “It’s David! My own brother, who’s always been there for me! He would take good care of Chloe. And listen, I was thinking… I could give David a job at my company, get him set up in the city nearby. That way, you could see Chloe whenever you want.” “For me? Or for yourself?” I shot back. “Yes, Mark, your brother helped you. You owe him. We can repay that debt in so many ways! Money, help finding him a job, setting him up on dates – anything! Why does it have to be our daughter?” “Why can’t you understand? It’s not giving her away! He’d be living close by. You could visit all the time.” It was like talking to a brick wall. I was furious. “Well, it’s not happening!” I snapped. “You are being completely unreasonable!” “Me, unreasonable? Fine! If I’m so unreasonable, then go talk to your perfectly reasonable mother and brother!” With that, I furiously grabbed a few changes of clothes, threw them in a bag, and stormed out of the room. My mother-in-law was standing right outside the door, clearly eavesdropping. Before she could say a word, I announced, “I’m not staying for dinner. I’m taking Chloe back home.” “Back home? This is your home,” she started. I ignored her, grabbed Chloe’s hand, and walked out. We caught a cab back to the city that night. In the car, Chloe held my hand tightly, her little face full of worry. “Mommy,” she asked in her tiny voice, “are you okay? Why isn’t Daddy coming with us?” She was only four. Too young to understand that her own father wanted to give her away. Thinking about it, the tears I’d been holding back finally started to fall. 3 The next day, Mark came back from his mom’s place. Seeing him, the anger I’d managed to push down resurfaced. I gave him the silent treatment, pretending he was invisible. He pulled out the charm offensive he used when we were dating, apologizing profusely. “Sarah, I messed up. I really did. Please, forgive me just this once?” “Oh yeah? Tell me exactly what you did wrong.” “I was wrong… wrong to upset you,” he stammered, watching my face. “I should have considered your feelings. I shouldn’t have been so focused on my own ideas.” Seeing my expression soften slightly, he continued, “You know how things have been lately, with the economy up and down, business has been slow… I’ve been stressed out. Mom kept going on and on about it, and seeing David like that… I just feel so bad for him. I wasn’t thinking straight when I argued with you.” Seeing him look so genuinely sorry, most of my anger melted away. I found myself comforting him. “Honey, I know how hard you work. Don’t worry too much. Business might be slow now, but things will turn around. You’re smart and hardworking, you’ll figure it out.” For the next couple of months, I used the excuse of my growing belly and nearing due date to avoid going back to his hometown. My mother-in-law called occasionally, but she didn’t bring up the adoption thing again. I started to think maybe the whole issue had blown over. Then, one evening, Mark came home from work, and trailing behind him were his mother and David. “Mom. David.” I managed a tight smile, shooting Mark a questioning look. My mother-in-law glanced at me and gave a little sniff. David looked around our living room before his eyes landed on me. We made eye contact, and he smiled. It was a smile that sent a chill down my spine. I instinctively grabbed Mark’s arm, my eyes silently asking, Why are they here? Mark quickly explained, “Sarah, Mom and David are going to stay with us for a while. Could you get the guest room ready?” He gently pulled me toward our bedroom, turning back to say, “Mom, David, make yourselves comfortable. I ordered some takeout, it’ll be here soon.” I was fuming. He hadn’t mentioned a word about them coming. As soon as Mark closed our bedroom door, I demanded, “What is going on? Why are they here? Did you deliberately not tell me because you knew I’d be upset?” “No, Sarah, you’ve got it wrong this time!” Mark insisted, looking genuinely surprised. “They called me when they were already at the bus station! What was I supposed to do, tell them to turn around and go back? Don’t worry,” he added quickly, “I asked them on the way here. David’s just here to see a specialist about his leg. They won’t be staying long.” Hearing that eased my mind slightly. “You’re not lying? Just for his leg?” “I promise,” Mark assured me. “How long are they planning to stay…?” I started to ask, then saw Mark’s expression shift. This was his family, and despite the adoption issue making me wary of them, it was his house too – the one he worked hard to pay the mortgage on. I quickly changed my tone. “Well, if David needs medical help, we should definitely support him.” Mark immediately smiled and pulled me into a hug. He leaned in for a kiss, then looked down at my belly and teased, “If this little girl doesn’t come out soon, I’m going to go crazy.” I gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Oh, you!” During David’s stay for his treatment, he acted perfectly normal. Sometimes, if I couldn’t sleep, I’d wander into the living room late at night, but I never heard anything unusual coming from his room. Still, remembering that incident from before… catching him watching those videos… I couldn’t bring myself to let Chloe spend much time alone with him. My mother-in-law still made snide remarks under her breath whenever she thought Mark wasn’t listening – things like “ungrateful,” “what’s the big deal,” “some people forget who helped them.” But Mark usually stepped in and defended me. Slowly, the atmosphere in the house became less tense. I started to relax my guard, even feeling a little guilty for being so suspicious of David. Not long after, I gave birth to our second child – another beautiful daughter. We named her Annie, and I was overjoyed.

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  • 99 Chances Were Enough: Why I Finally Walked Away From My Wife.

    Every time my wife and I fought, she’d buy me a luxury watch. By the time I had collected 99 of them, I decided I couldn’t accept any more, and I asked her for a divorce. It all kicked off one night last fall, sparked by a social media post from my wife’s assistant. “This holiday night, spending it with you, finally feels like home~” The picture showed him at a fancy rooftop garden restaurant. Leaning against him was a woman, half her face hidden in shadow, but her distinct collarbone and the faint hickey on her neck screamed intimacy. Alex then commented: “The boss looks amazing. My Venus.” I glanced at the message Amanda had sent just minutes before, saying she was working late. A faint smile touched my lips as I replied in the comments: “Her technique’s even better.” Shortly after, Alex called, his voice laced with faux injury, explaining it was just some quote he found online, nothing more. Amanda snatched the phone, her voice dripping with sarcasm towards me: “We just grabbed dinner after working late, what’s your problem? Do you have any idea how Alex felt when you said that publicly?” Then, her tone softened towards Alex: “Don’t take it personally. He watches too many trashy romance dramas; thinks everyone’s a rival.” The line went dead. The next day, Amanda came home, and with her, another watch box. This one contained a green watch. “Honey, please forgive me. What I said last night was just to save face.” Staring at the drawer overflowing with expensive watches, I gently shook my head. I had loved her for seven years. I had forgiven her ninety-nine times. This time, I was letting go. 1 When Amanda got home, I was digging into a special extra-spicy, loaded-with-peppers hot pot I’d made just for myself. She never touched spicy food, so for seven years, chili peppers had been banished from our dining table. Amanda walked straight over, grabbed my personal hot pot without a word, and dumped it down the toilet. “I’m allergic to peppers, did you forget?” She then handed me an elegant gift box. “Alex picked it out. As an apology from him. Seriously, look at what you said last night. He’s so much more considerate than you are. You’re older than him, his senior; can’t you be a little more magnanimous?” I didn’t move an inch. She nudged me. “Are you listening to me? Why are you being so petty?” As she spoke, she noticed my eyes watering – from the intense spice – and looked slightly flustered. She mumbled something about getting tissues, but I stopped her. “Don’t bother. I’m going to take a shower.” I went to wash up, avoiding her. When I came out, she was surprisingly still there. Amanda sat on the sofa, the gift box on the table. She seemed calmer. “Honey, I lost my temper earlier. Come see the gift we picked out for you.” Amanda eagerly tore open the packaging, but froze when she saw the color. “Why is it green…” Her words trailed off, a flicker of guilt crossing her face. She quickly forced a smile and tried to explain, “Honey, forgive me. What I said last night was just to keep up appearances.” The excuse felt incredibly flimsy. I didn’t bother looking closely. I ran a hand through my hair, about to bring up the divorce. Just then, her phone rang. She glanced at the screen and immediately answered. “What’s wrong?” Alex’s voice came through, choked with tears. “Amanda, my stomach hurts so bad, and I can’t get a cab to the hospital.” Amanda’s expression turned grave instantly. Without even a glance my way, she grabbed her coat and rushed out the door. I stood there, stunned. A few minutes later, a voice message arrived from her. “You have to accept that watch. Otherwise, Alex will feel terrible, and it’ll affect his work.” I didn’t reply. She sent another. “I’ll be back soon.” The sound of speeding cars bled through the background noise. I didn’t need to guess. She was racing to Alex’s side as fast as she could. 2 After Amanda left, she never came back that night. I waited from late evening until dawn. Nothing. That night, the emotional turmoil triggered a severe angina attack. I was rushed to the emergency room. I tried calling Amanda, but her line was constantly busy. Just as I was about to give up, a notification popped up. Alex had updated his social media status. He shared a photo of himself getting an IV drip, captioned: “Looked into your eyes, knew you were the one. Watching over me through the night, by my side in my toughest moment. Boss, how can I ever repay this kindness? How about… with myself?” The message oozed gratitude and adoration for Amanda. Right below it, a comment from someone apparently working at the hospital: “OMG, I work here! Just snapped this on the sly, totally explosive!” The attached picture showed a frail-looking Alex, with Amanda standing by his bedside, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. It looked like a poignant movie scene. Another candid shot showed Amanda watching over Alex’s bed, her eyes filled with a tenderness and concern directed solely at him. Even though I should have been used to it, my heart clenched painfully. Almost involuntarily, I dialed Amanda’s number. “Let’s get a divorce,” I said curtly and hung up. I used to be skeptical about the “seven-year itch,” but right then, I had to admit it was real. The exhaustion and disappointment had completely drained my will to continue. My angina attack was brought under control quickly, and I was discharged soon after. Dragging myself home, I had barely stepped inside when Amanda confronted me, furious. “What stunt are you pulling now? Can’t you stop being so unreasonable? He was really sick, shouldn’t I have taken care of him?” “I just had a severe angina attack. I almost died.” I cut her off coldly, my eyes devoid of any warmth. Hearing this, Amanda’s face went deathly pale, her eyes wide with disbelief. She froze, speechless for a long moment. 3 To the outside world, Amanda and I were the picture-perfect couple. Amanda wanted to be childfree, and because I loved her, I respected her decision without argument. So, for seven years, we never had children of our own. Until recently. One night, Amanda came home drunk after a work function. As I helped her onto the bed, she suddenly threw her arms around my neck, her eyes hazy. “Honey, let’s have a baby…” Then she passed out. I carefully removed her makeup and changed her clothes. I thought she genuinely wanted a child with me. I thought she still loved me. Until… Three days prior, my sudden angina attack landed me in the ER. The feeling of being pulled back from the brink still haunted me. Originally, I had made preparations, even got a full physical. I had planned to spend the holiday weekend with Amanda, tell her I wanted to cherish every day we had together even more. My health check confirmed I could provide my half of a healthy child. But now, none of it mattered. On that autumn night, Amanda spent it with her assistant, Alex, even speaking coldly to me in front of him. What hurt most was that green watch she held – a symbol of betrayal. Her words defending Alex were like sharp knives, cutting into my heart again and again. She knew exactly what the color green implied in certain contexts, yet she went along with Alex’s choice. It was chilling. Amanda stood up angrily, her knuckles white from clenching her fists. But she didn’t ask why I hadn’t told her about my condition sooner. Because she had already chosen to discard me, call after unanswered call. I had given her countless chances, hoping she’d come back to me, but she always chose Alex. “Enough, Ethan!” Her voice was filled with anger and contempt. “You’d make up a lie like that just to get my attention!” She shoved me hard onto the sofa. “You’ve been fine for years, and suddenly, right after I hire an assistant, you have a heart attack? Do you think this is some kind of TV drama?” “When did you become like this? Alex is just my assistant! Is it wrong for me to care about my staff? Can’t you stop being so sensitive, watch fewer of those stupid shows, and stop messing with your head?!” She stormed out, slamming the door behind her. Staring at the closed door, I remembered a text message I’d seen five days earlier. Alex had told Amanda he wanted a child. Amanda had replied to Alex: “Baby, I want a child that belongs to us too.” In that moment, I knew with chilling clarity that she seemed to have completely forgotten the vows we once made together. So, her drunken words that night… they were meant for Alex. I looked at the shut door, no longer feeling the familiar urge to compromise or smooth things over. In our seven years of marriage, I had always been the one trying to hold things together. Today, I was completely disheartened. I thought back over the years. She had once given me ten watches as symbols of love. But since Alex appeared, the subsequent eighty-plus watches felt more like milestones marking their relationship. I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms, fighting back the pain as I texted my lawyer: “Hello, I need to consult about a divorce. As soon as possible.” 4 For several days, Amanda didn’t come home. On the fourth day, my phone finally rang. Amanda’s voice still held a trace of lingering anger, tinged with coldness and distance. “Come downstairs. My mom wants us to come over for dinner.” Before I could respond, she hung up. My mother-in-law had always been kind to me. No matter how much I resisted going, I had to consider her feelings. When Amanda saw I had made an effort to dress up, a sarcastic smile played on her lips. “Well, look at you, all spruced up. And you tried to tell me you almost died. How ridiculous.” My breath caught. Then I managed a small smile and said softly, “Yeah. Right.” She didn’t press the issue, instead turning on the car’s music system. As the music started, a soft voice alert played. “Your little assistant Alex reminds the dear Mrs. CEO, please enjoy the music, but also drive safely, love you~” Alex’s gentle, slightly magnetic voice echoed in the somewhat awkward silence of the car, making the atmosphere even more charged. In the past, I would have immediately demanded an explanation from Amanda, insisting she justify it. It would have ended in another argument. But now, I chose silence. I just sat there quietly, saying nothing. Amanda seemed to realize her blunder, a flash of embarrassment crossing her face. “…Alex said personalized voice prompts are trendy now, so I had him set one up for me.” I nodded slightly, my expression calm and unreadable. During dinner at her parents’ house, my mother-in-law clearly sensed the strained atmosphere between us, occasionally casting questioning glances our way. As the meal drew to a close, she finally leaned in and asked quietly, “What’s going on with you two? Had a fight?” Amanda laughed lightly, naturally linking her arm through mine. “No, Mom, don’t worry about it.” Her mother immediately relaxed, her face filled with relief. “That’s what I thought! All those online rumors about you and your male assistant being too close are nonsense. My Amanda would never do anything to hurt Ethan!” 5 “News? What news?” Amanda looked puzzled. Her mother glanced at me, paused for a moment, then took out her phone and handed it to her. “This. Everyone online is buzzing about a ‘ManXu’ CP – pairing the CEO and her male assistant.” I caught a glimpse of the phone screen. It was a compilation of photos featuring Amanda and Alex, many taken in settings I’d never seen. For instance, one showed Amanda and Alex painting plaster dolls together in a park. One of those identical cartoon figures sat silently on the nightstand in our bedroom. She had told me it was painted by an employee’s child, and she brought it home because she thought it was cute. Thinking back now, it was just another carefully crafted lie. Amanda took the phone, then grasped my hand to explain, “Those photos were all taken during company events. It’s not like what they’re saying online.” “Alex just graduated; I mentored him closely, like his teacher. It’s natural for him to rely on me. Sometimes, when we spend a lot of time together, he even worries you might misunderstand and tells me I should go home and spend more time with you.” I wasn’t particularly interested in her explanation, just replying flatly, “Mm, I get it.” The tension eased slightly from her face, but then I turned to her mother, my voice firm. “I want a divorce from Amanda.”

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  • Reborn: I Made My Wife Have Her First Love’s Baby.

    “Honey, I need to have a baby for Leo Vance. He’s terminally ill.” Leo Vance. Her first love, the one she never forgot. My wife has a severe bleeding disorder. We’ve been married six years, and I’ve never touched her. In my past life, I vehemently refused for her safety, forced her to get an abortion, and stayed by her side day and night. After Leo died, she became strangely docile, caring for me meticulously. But I never imagined she blamed me for Leo’s death the entire time. On our sixth anniversary, she stabbed me twenty times, doused me in gasoline, and burned me alive. Flames roared around me as she screamed, her face contorted with hate. “He was dying! All he wanted was a child! What was so wrong with that? It’s all your fault!” Reborn, I looked at my wife Lily’s pale face and smiled. “Just one? Why not give him two?” … “What nonsense are you talking? I know you don’t like kids. I’ll just have one to carry on his line, then I’ll come right back.” Lily caressed her belly, trying to sweet-talk me. “I’m already three months along. Leo never wanted to interfere with us, Ethan. He always says good things about you. Once the baby’s born, I won’t have anything more to do with it, don’t worry.” She wrinkled her nose playfully, placing my hand on her stomach. “You know my past, Ethan. I basically grew up bouncing between relatives and relying on neighbors. The Vances were the kindest to me. I can’t let their family line end. You understand, right?” I nodded, pulling her into a hug, but inside, I sneered. It was the early 2000s. I was the only son for three generations in my family. I took all the pressure, just wanting her to be healthy. Lily’s father killed her mother for insurance money. She suffered immensely growing up. I felt terrible for her. To make her feel secure, I put all my money and property in her name, giving her every safeguard. Now, she leaned against me, praising the Vance family, while my mind reeled with the agony of being stabbed, collapsing to my knees before she burned me alive. Lily pulled away, hesitant. “Didn’t you used to hate Leo? Why agree all of a sudden? Are you being sarcastic? We haven’t… done anything. It was IVF.” If I hadn’t found traces of their lovemaking in the car and in our house, I might have actually believed her. I smiled, stroking Lily’s head, soothing her gently. “Of course not. I’m mainly worried about your health. IVF must have been tough, right? Honestly, you didn’t need to go through that trouble. As long as your heart is with me, that’s all that matters.” Lily relaxed again, giving me a rare, tight hug and a quick kiss. “Then… can Leo come stay with us? You can take care of both of us. You’re a doctor, you know best. He is the baby’s father, after all.” “Once the baby is born, we’ll be together properly, and I won’t owe the Vances anything anymore.” Her eyes were probing. I pretended to hesitate, and a flash of triumph crossed her face before she pouted, feigning displeasure. I quickly agreed, holding her close and murmuring sweet nothings. She was overjoyed, oblivious that I was even happier. This time, let her have the baby. No one could save her now. She nestled against me for a moment before Leo called. She took the call in the bathroom. I heard the faucet running loudly. She was scrubbing away where I had touched her, rubbing until her skin must have been raw. She complained to Leo, “Leo, honey, come over soon, I miss you like crazy! I talked to Ethan; he’ll take care of you and our baby.” After a few minutes, she came out, dressed. Her eyes flickered. “Let’s get the divorce finalized. Otherwise, it’ll be hard to register the baby’s birth certificate.” I replied casually, “Sure, okay.” Maybe I agreed too quickly. Lily seemed stunned. Perhaps she expected me to break down crying or fly into a rage like before. I added, “The baby isn’t at fault. And Leo is sick, after all. I misunderstood him before. It was my bad. From now on, I support all your decisions. After all, if you love someone, you should love everything about them.” A high-end package of medicine peeked out from the cabinet. Lily asked what it was. I earnestly explained it was a holiday gift I was planning to give someone, but if she wanted it, she could take it first to boost her health. Lily’s eyes lit up. She snuggled against my face again. “Oh, Ethan, you’re the best! So generous and thoughtful! Don’t worry, Leo won’t affect your position. I only see him as a brother.” 2 The sound of a key turning in the lock. Leo Vance walked in casually, holding a key. He looked at me, pretending to be weak, panting heavily. “Dr. Hayes, sorry to trouble you. This body of mine… who knows how many days I have left. Before I go, I just want to spend more time with Lily. Thanks for putting up with this.” He walked into the kitchen, put down some groceries, and insisted on cooking for Lily. Lily was deeply moved. They shut the kitchen door, getting cozy inside. I raised an eyebrow, noticing the muddy black footprints on the floor. That kind of dirt only comes from the hills outside town. Leo must have just come down from there. Guess he had to ditch his other girl for this. I didn’t barge in, worried about Lily being taken advantage of. Instead, I lay on the couch, letting my mind drift. Soon, three dishes and a soup were ready. I ate heartily. Lily served Leo soup, her face full of nostalgia. “Your cooking tastes exactly like my mom’s. Leo, thank you for being so good to me all these years.” She turned to me. “Ethan, let’s go get it done later. You’ll have to leave with nothing, but it’s just a temporary measure. We’ll divorce but still live together. Trust me.” Watching her lie so naturally, I hated that I couldn’t just kill her right then. Suppressing my disgust, I nodded. “Okay. As long as the three of us can make things work, that’s what matters most. Lily, as long as you’re happy, nothing else is a problem.” I thought about Leo’s debts and smiled inwardly. When I proposed to Lily, she turned me down dozens of times, always saying she wasn’t ready, that her mother’s tragic death made it impossible for her to trust anyone. Yet, faced with Leo’s clumsy acting and obvious lies, she believed every word. After dinner, Lily eagerly dragged me to get the divorce processed. The county clerk’s office was almost empty. When I stated I was leaving the marriage with nothing, people looked at me with confusion. “Hurry up, or the marriage license office will close, and Lily won’t make it in time to register with Leo.” The looks turned to pity. Lily snatched the fresh divorce certificate, embarrassed, and hissed under her breath, “Don’t say that! People who don’t know the situation will think I’m some kind of… person!” Playing the victim while acting the villain. I sneered internally but outwardly agreed. “Sorry, my bad. Lily is the best, kindest person. I understand.” Her expression softened slightly. She turned towards the marriage license counter. Just then, a colleague ran into us, shoving a handful of candies at me enthusiastically. “Dr. Hayes! What are you doing here? Didn’t you and your wife get married ages ago? Hey, I even copied you with these candies – imported peanut brittle! Remember how envious everyone was of Mrs. Hayes back then?” Lily froze. Peanut brittle was her favorite. She couldn’t afford it as a kid, and by the time she could, the factory had closed down. When I found out, I secretly bought the factory and had it produce only that peanut brittle. She cried, saying she didn’t deserve it, but I firmly told her there was no such thing as deserving or not – I thought she was worth it. Lily forced a smile, distractedly popping a piece of peanut brittle into her mouth. In my previous life, I died horribly. The candy factory went bankrupt, my family was ruined, and a large number of workers lost their jobs. Leo interrupted my thoughts, naturally wrapping an arm around Lily’s waist, his hand resting on her belly. “Is the baby kicking? Come on, let’s go get registered.” My colleague stood there, dumbfounded, apologizing profusely to me. I waved it off, even explaining for Lily, “We just got divorced.” The colleague nodded, then turned to whisper to his wife, loud enough for me to hear, “Even a guy like Dr. Hayes gets cheated on? He’s the Dean’s son, you know, though not many people know it. That Leo Vance is a notorious bum. Tried his hand at business and lost everything. Imagine ditching a diamond for dog crap. Hilarious.” “Poor Dr. Hayes. Just last month he was bragging about his wife, and this month they’re divorced. Baby’s three months along… everyone knows what that means. That Lily isn’t any good!” I watched him spread the gossip, a slight smile playing on my lips. 3 We got everything done smoothly and went home. But Lily kept glancing at me, her thoughts unreadable. That night, she shut her door and didn’t come out. I didn’t care. I went to my own room and went to sleep. Just as I was drifting off, a cold body suddenly slipped into my arms. My sleepiness vanished instantly. Lily looked at me, tears welling in her eyes. “Honey, don’t you love me anymore? Why aren’t you angry?” What kind of drama was this in the middle of the night? I became wary, tucking her cold feet under the covers to warm them, speaking softly. “Did you run over here barefoot? Look how cold you are. What’s wrong?” Lily’s eyes shone in the darkness. “Someone talked about me today. Said I was shameless. Tomorrow, can you take me and Leo to the hospital cafeteria, host a little reception, and clear things up? Just say… say you can’t have kids, that’s why we divorced.” “The party will bring Leo some good luck too. If you don’t agree, I… I might as well just die.” “And don’t worry about my bleeding disorder. Leo brought me a folk remedy. He left town seven years ago specifically to find a cure for me.” She wouldn’t trust me, a doctor with a bachelor’s degree, but she’d believe in some folk remedy. Her eyelashes fluttered against my face. I deliberately paused for a few moments before pretending to agree reluctantly. “As long as you’re happy and don’t hurt yourself, I’ll do whatever you want.” “Oh, right. Remind Leo to take his medicine.” Leo wasn’t sick, but I had prepared some… special things for him. She happily slipped out of my arms, closed the door, and ran off. The door didn’t shut completely. Her excited voice drifted in intermittently. “He agreed! See? I told you he was a pushover. He agrees to whatever I say. And you said he didn’t love me anymore? Impossible! He’s paying for the reception too.” Leo, smoking, drawled lazily, “I’m still a bit short for this business deal. Get me some more cash. When I strike it rich, you’ll be a wealthy wife. Forget one candy factory, honey, I’ll open three for you!” “And I want lots of clothes and bags! But take your medicine first.” The bedsprings creaked rhythmically, accompanied by sounds of flirting. I yawned and drifted off to sleep. I dreamed of Leo’s death scene from my past life. Debt collectors had hung him from a rooftop all day. When he called Lily, he was surrounded by heavily tattooed men, leering as they said if he could lure the woman over, she’d be worth a hundred bucks off his debt. Lily never got that nightmare call. Leo was violated, humiliated in the worst way, and died shamefully on that rooftop. The scene shifted. Gasoline drenched me again. I was burning alive in front of Leo’s memorial photo. The workers from the candy factory heard I had died. Many came to see me. They sent Lily to prison and arranged my parents’ funerals and memorials for me. I sat up in the darkness, covering my eyes, crying silently. 4 At the crack of dawn, I went to the hospital. I arranged the food, instructed the workers to help me hang decorations – red banners everywhere, especially making sure Leo Vance’s name was prominent at the entrance. At lunchtime, everyone flocked to the cafeteria, curious about the sea of red. “Is Leo Vance getting married? To who?” Someone in the know answered, “Lily.” “That’s not even the half of it. The real shocker is Dr. Hayes is throwing the party for them!” A wave of stunned silence, then murmurs erupted. My dad is the hospital Dean, my mom an OB/GYN. They heard the news and looked at me, astonished. My mom smacked my arm. “How could you get divorced! What is going on?” My parents are good people. They never looked down on Lily for being an orphan; instead, they urged me to treat her well. Six years without children earned my parents endless ridicule and cold shoulders, but they still protected her. Leo’s parents, who worked at the boiler plant next door, showed up, probably called by Leo. They sat down and dug in immediately. Under the weight of confused, mocking, and curious stares, I stood on the small stage, holding Lily’s hand in one and Leo’s in the other (though he wasn’t physically there yet). I began the toast: “Let’s wish them happiness. From this day forward, these two are husband and wife. But mainly, this banquet is to celebrate me rejoining the ranks of the single.” Lily stared at me, aghast. Before she could question me, a group of men with full tattoo sleeves burst through the door. “Leo Vance! You’re pretty good at hiding! Let’s see where you run now! Pay up!” Leo instinctively thought Lily had exposed him. Furious, he shoved her away, yelling, “Was it you?! You damn bitch, you dared to sell me out!” Lily fell to the ground, wincing in pain, but still shook her head. “It wasn’t me! I didn’t say anything!” Leo roared, “Don’t grab me! I’ll give you this broad! She’s got money!” Then he bolted towards the exit. Lily stared in disbelief as Leo ran off, while the tattooed thugs grabbed her. “Leo Vance? Where are you going?! I’m pregnant with your child! You bastard!” I walked over, looking down at her. She instinctively pleaded with me. “Help me, Ethan! Please, explain! I don’t know anything about this! What debt? I don’t have any money! What’s going on? Honey, help me! Talk to them for Leo, please! They aren’t going to kill him, are they?!” She was frantic, her words tumbling out incoherently. I walked past her, a smirk playing on my lips as I addressed the lead thug. “Buddy, the woman and the kid are both Leo Vance’s. You hold onto her, Leo won’t get far.” Lily froze, stunned. Two lines of tears streamed down her face as she stared at me. “What?” “What is happening, Ethan! It’s me, Lily!” “Leo and I were just pretending to get married! Once the baby’s born, I was going to divorce him! I was just repaying a debt! Ethan, didn’t we talk about this? What’s wrong with you?” Bored, I sat back down to eat, ignoring Lily’s cries. My mom sat beside me, nudging me. “What do you mean she’s pregnant and the baby isn’t yours? What on earth is going on?!” Leo’s mother, Brenda Vance, who had been hiding nearby, started screeching, “Ethan Hayes! Save them! Give them money! You useless piece of trash!” “Mom! Don’t yell at Ethan!” Lily cried out towards Mrs. Vance. “You give them money! Save me! The baby in my belly can’t take this stress!” Leo, agile as a cat, leaped out a window and fled, showing no sign of illness. Seeing her son was safe, Brenda Vance turned to Lily with fake helplessness. “No money! Gave it all to Leo for his debts! Go ask your in-laws! Old Mr. Hayes and Dr. Hayes are still here.” My parents exchanged glances. My mother, as if waking from a dream, erupted in fury. “Brenda Vance! My son made it perfectly clear just now – they are divorced! She calls you ‘Mom,’ not me! The baby in her belly is your family’s business, nothing to do with us!” Since walking in, Lily hadn’t acknowledged my parents once, yet she had been overly affectionate with Leo’s parents. I wiped my mouth, stood up, ushered the crowd out, and closed the door. Behind me, Lily screamed, “Honey! Ethan, don’t go! You can’t leave me like this!!” I walked back to look at her. “You and Leo Vance are legally married. Don’t call me that. From now on, you can repay your debt to the Vance family forever.”

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  • Divorced, Reborn, Unstoppable

    Around here, I have a nickname: “Liam’s lapdog.” We were childhood sweethearts, but I basically forced him to marry me. After the wedding, he treated me like ice, but I acted like I didn’t care. Today is our third wedding anniversary. I was scrolling through Instagram and saw a post from Claire Foster, his old flame: “Apart for so long, but thank goodness you were always there.” The picture? A candlelight dinner. Liam’s profile was unmistakable. I liked the post and commented: “Wishing you both the best.” The next second, my phone rang. It was Liam. “Stop obsessing over stupid stuff online,” he snapped. “Tonight’s Claire’s welcome home party. Everyone’s having a good time.” Then I heard him turn away from the phone. “Don’t mind her,” he said to Claire. “She’s always been petty like that.” Yeah. Petty enough to love him my entire youth. In that instant, something snapped. I was finally awake. 1. Liam didn’t get home until the middle of the night, reeking of alcohol. He collapsed onto the sofa. “Ava, get over here.” He always did this. Come home, demand I untie his tie. He’d get pissed if I wasn’t there. Martha, our housekeeper, told me once he’d also come home drunk, sat on the sofa, and just waited for me until god knows when because I was out. I rubbed my eyes, dragged myself downstairs, and undid his tie. As I turned to leave, he grabbed my arm. He pulled a small jewelry box from his pocket. “Claire wanted me to give this to you. Said she was worried you’d misunderstand. She felt so bad she rushed out to buy it right after dinner.” I opened it. A cheap bracelet. I managed a small smile. “Wow, she really shouldn’t have. Found this at the gift shop downstairs from the restaurant, huh?” Liam wasn’t amused. “What’s that supposed to mean? It’s the thought that counts. It shows she values you.” I stared at the obviously plastic charm dangling from the chain and had to bite back laughter. Liam leaned closer, sniffing the air around me with disgust. “Ava, haven’t I told you to shower when you get sweaty? Why don’t you ever listen?” Liam’s a neat freak. After we got married, he demanded I always smell fresh. Even in summer, if I broke a sweat, I had to shower immediately. Tonight, my emotions were too raw. I’d gone for a run earlier, trying to clear my head, then just sat staring out the window for hours after I got back. Usually, I’d jump to do whatever he said. But right then, I just froze. Seeing me motionless, he gave me a shove. “Ava, what are you spacing out for? Go shower, then make me some detox tea.” After I made the tea, he suggested, “Since Claire got you a gift, you should return the favor tomorrow. Go shopping, pick something out. It’s important to reciprocate.” I shot him a look. “How about I take her out for a nice meal too? You know, soothe her wounded feelings?” Before I could blink, Liam handed me his phone. “Call her yourself and set it up. She’s probably still awake.” Married three years, and Liam never gave a damn about my schedule. But Claire’s? He knew it by heart. 2. When I didn’t move, Liam dialed her number himself and put it on speaker. Claire picked up almost instantly. “Hey there, handsome,” she cooed. “Home already and missing me?” I cringed so hard my toes curled. Mortifying. Liam saw my expression darken and quickly took the phone off speaker, walking away to murmur a few things privately. I turned to go upstairs, but he grabbed me again after hanging up. His face was tight with annoyance. “What’s your problem now? She was drunk, just joking around.” I just nodded. “Mm-hmm.” That seemed to piss him off more. He shoved me hard. I lost my balance and banged my knee against the edge of the sofa. Blood instantly welled up. I have hemophobia – I get faint at the sight of blood. Liam knows this. He panicked. “Okay, sit down, sit down! I’ll get the first-aid kit.” He frantically rummaged through it for gauze, but there wasn’t even a scrap left. “When did this first-aid kit get so empty?” he muttered, annoyed. I didn’t tell him I’d used the last of the gauze the day before when I cut my finger making the steak dinner he wanted. I didn’t want him to think I was being dramatic. He knelt, disinfected the cut, and then said, “Maybe I should take you to the pharmacy? Get some more gauze, maybe some antiseptic wipes.” The thought of medicine made my stomach clench. I gently touched my belly. Over a month now. I’d waited for our anniversary, hoping… but he wasn’t even here. Tonight, I’d desperately wanted a drink to numb the ache, but I couldn’t decide about the baby yet. So I resisted. Claire posted last week: He says I’m always clumsy and getting bruised, so he thoughtfully put together a first-aid kit just for me. Thinking about that now… the contrast. I was the one who stocked everything in this house. Sometimes he’d find his shaving cream empty and yell at me. “Is this how you play the good wife? You can’t even keep track of basic necessities?” Back then, I’d just lower my head and apologize, terrified he’d get angry and storm out. When he got mad, he wouldn’t just block my number; he’d disappear for days. He wouldn’t come back until I used Martha’s phone to text him apologies until he felt satisfied. Then he might text back: “I’ll be home for dinner tonight. Make it early.” Of course, he’d only show up maybe four out of ten times he said that. Sometimes I’d just sit there, staring at a table full of cold food, my eyes stinging. I nodded now. “Okay, let’s go together. I could use a fruit smoothie anyway.” Liam pinched my waist. “Look at the time! And smoothies? What wife weighs over 130 pounds after getting married? Would it kill you to skip a snack?” I’ve always had a larger frame. Honestly, I watch my weight carefully. But Liam always compared me to his secretaries, his friends’ girlfriends. The cruelest was when he said, “If it wasn’t an arranged marriage to save my family’s company, do you think I would’ve looked twice at you?” Yeah. Back then, Walker Corp was tanking because of a shareholder scandal. My family proposed the marriage alliance. Liam was still moping because Claire had run off overseas chasing some other guy. His parents jumped at the offer. From dating to marriage, it all happened in less than a year. I knew he didn’t like me. Maybe even found me repulsive. Sex was like clocking in for a shift. Our parents were desperate for grandkids, so around my ovulation time, he’d grudgingly perform his husbandly duties for a few days. We’d just gotten into the car when Liam’s phone rang again. It was Claire, sounding weak on the other end. “Liam… I think I have that stomach bug again… throwing up, diarrhea… can you come get me? Please?” Liam glanced at me, then told me to get out of the car. I grabbed his wrist, pointed at my bleeding knee. “You said you were taking me to get bandages.” His face turned cold. “It’s just a scratch, Ava. Deal with it yourself. Claire sounds really sick; she might need the ER. Don’t be so selfish!” No matter how I pleaded, his expression stayed hard as he practically dragged me out of the car. “Just grab a cab or something,” he said dismissively. “Buying bandages isn’t rocket science.” Buying bandages isn’t hard, no. But he forgot that the sight of blood makes me tremble uncontrollably, makes my heart pound like crazy. Watching his taillights disappear, my heart plunged into an icy abyss. 3. I knew Liam wouldn’t be back tonight. I ordered takeout, along with gauze and antiseptic wipes. Every time Claire called Liam away, she’d almost always post about it later. I waited, eventually falling asleep, but no Instagram notification popped up. I thought about it again and decided against taking the allergy meds for the hives that always broke out when my hemophobia kicked in. I fell into an itchy, restless sleep, only jolted awake by a specific notification sound on my phone. The one I’d set just for Claire’s posts. I rubbed my eyes. A new picture: Claire in a hospital bed, hooked up to an IV. Liam had bought her a hot water bottle, heating pads, even ginger tea. You could see the dark circles under his eyes; he looked exhausted. I remembered a beach trip Liam took me on with his friends. I was on my period and didn’t want to go in the water. He’d grabbed my hand and pulled me into the ocean anyway. “When did you get so dramatic?” he’d snapped. “We’re all out here having fun, who are you sulking for?” His friends all stared at me. “I’m just not feeling well today,” I’d mumbled, embarrassed. “I was going to rest on the sand.” But Liam wouldn’t let go of my hand. That night, I was doubled over in bed with cramps, begging him to get me some painkillers. He’d been completely annoyed. “Why are you always so much trouble? Where am I supposed to find that stuff this late? Just tough it out.” He had no idea how bad period pain could be. I spent the whole night sweating and shivering, listening to his steady breathing beside me. The next morning, he actually laughed at me. “Wow, you got ugly overnight. Hurry up and put some makeup on.” He had such high standards for me. Controlled what I wore, even my accessories. Sometimes I’d buy jewelry I loved and show him, but he’d always scoff. “Your taste is just so… tacky.” But Claire wore similar styles all the time. And he’d comment under her posts: Looks great on you. Claire was a minor influencer, always shooting daily vlogs since college. This hospital post was the first time she’d shown Liam’s full face clearly. The comments poured in. “OMG, is that your BF? He’s so hot!” “Hot AND rich! Isn’t that watch like, over $100k? #Goals, girl, so jealous!” “Are you sick?? And the handsome CEO stayed with you all night? It’s real love, confirmed!” … The comment that stung the most was from Liam’s burner account: Such a big girl, still can’t take care of yourself. Silly goose. Silly goose. So intimate. Even though Liam’s burner account only reposted sports highlights, I’d found it. He’d logged in on the tablet once and forgotten to log out. I quietly followed him. At first, I told myself he just wanted privacy from his official, verified account. But then I saw his comments on Claire’s posts. I realized how naive I’d been. This wasn’t just innocent interaction. They were practically flaunting it, just hiding it slightly. In all these years, Liam had never even made me a cup of hot tea for cramps, let alone stayed up all night. He complained if I asked him to blend a smoothie when he was making one for himself. Seeing that post, tears welled up automatically. 4. The doctor said my progesterone levels were unstable and told me to come back for a follow-up in a week. I dragged myself out of bed the next morning. Before I could even leave, Liam walked in, looking exhausted. He tossed his jacket at me. “Go get me some breakfast. I’m dead tired. Need to eat and crash.” Last night, I’d texted my best friend, Sarah Davis, planning to meet her at the hospital at 9 AM. I hate flaking on plans. I pushed his jacket back. “Order delivery. I have to go out.” Liam grabbed my chin, studying my face. “You’re not still pissed about yesterday, are you? It’s been a whole night.” Right. That was Liam’s way. He knew I was angry, but he always gave me the silent treatment, assuming time would fix everything. I laughed humorlessly. “It’s in the past.” His expression soured. “Ava, why are you always like this? Who are you trying to punish with that sour face first thing in the morning?” Seeing my jaw clench, he knelt, looking at my bandaged knee. “Does it still hurt? Want me to take you to the clinic to get it properly cleaned?” I took two steps back. “It’s been a whole night,” I said flatly. “What’s the point of saying that now?” “I’m fine.” I turned away, unable to look at him. Liam stood up, his tone chilling. “Maybe I should take you to the hospital anyway. Just so you don’t run complaining to Mom and Dad that I don’t care about you.” I took a deep breath. His parents had asked me a few times how Liam treated me. I remembered always saying he was great, just really busy, so we didn’t see each other much. How did that translate to me “complaining” in his mind? “Well, it’s the truth, isn’t it?” I snapped back. “I got hurt, and you just left me there.” Liam pointed a finger at me, his voice rising. “Ava, can you please try to be reasonable? How many times do I have to explain?” I didn’t say anything. I just opened Instagram and pulled up Claire’s hospital post. Liam froze for a second, then started explaining. “She just likes posting stuff, building her followers. Can’t you just let her have this? Besides, random strangers online don’t know who we are.” He reached for my hand. “Look, Claire was really sick last night. Her parents aren’t around. I couldn’t just leave her. You have to understand.” I looked at his calm face. “It’s fine,” I said tonelessly. “She was sick, weak. Of course, you should stay with her.” Hearing this, Liam smiled, squeezing my hand. “I’m glad you’re not upset.” Just then, I noticed a faint red mark on his neck, trying to hide under his collar. A year ago, even a month ago, I would have exploded. Screamed, demanded answers. But now? I calmly pointed to it. “You might want to cover that up better. You’re usually so careful about your image.” A flash of panic crossed Liam’s eyes. He bolted to the bathroom mirror. “Don’t get the wrong idea!” he called out. “It’s just a mosquito bite from the hospital yesterday! You know how sensitive my skin is.” I nodded slowly. “Are you heading out now? Need a ride to get breakfast?” Liam happily hopped into the passenger seat. We hadn’t even reached the breakfast spot when his phone rang again. Distracted for just a second, I slammed on the brakes too late and hit a stone pillar. Instantly, a sharp pain shot through my abdomen. I gripped Liam’s hand tightly. “Call 911! Quick! My stomach hurts!” His phone was still ringing incessantly. He frowned, answered it. Hearing Claire say her stomach bug was back, he prepared to jump out and grab a cab to her place, leaving me behind. “Liam, don’t go!” I screamed, my voice cracking. “I’m bleeding…” He glanced at me dismissively. “Stop being dramatic, Ava. What a lame excuse. Claire has a stomach bug, so suddenly you have stomach pain too? Are you trying to copy her now?” I grabbed his sleeve, desperate. “Please,” I begged. “Stay with me. I’m pregnant. I’m really bleeding.” Liam yanked his arm away. “Stop lying!” he snarled. “Don’t you think I’d know if you were pregnant?” His words hit me like a physical blow. My body went rigid, and I crumpled to the ground. Blood pooled beneath me, spreading like a dark, slow-blooming flower. Liam seemed not to see it. He got back in the car, drove away, the tires rolling over the edge of the crimson stain.

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  • A Mother’s Revenge

    My daughter was found in the gymnasium storage room. She wasn’t breathing. Her school uniform was gone. Semen was found on her lower body. The school blamed it on a homeless man with mental health issues. Three months after my daughter died, I received an anonymous text message. 【How do you like my masterpiece? Your daughter was crying for her mommy right before she died! It was so much fun hahaha…】 Masterpiece? My hand tightened around the phone. I was going to make the real killer truly “enjoy” my masterpiece! 1 I had just finished a surgery when I got the call from the homeroom teacher. The surgery had gone exceptionally well; the patient was stable. But before I could even take a breath, the teacher’s voice on the phone was frantic. “Chloe’s mom! You need to come to the school right away! Something’s happened to Chloe!” When I arrived at Maple Creek Middle School, the area was already cordoned off with police tape. I saw a group of officers struggling to restrain a man who was fighting wildly. He was dressed in rags, his hair a tangled, dirty mess, and he was screaming for them to let him go. Ms. Peterson, Chloe’s homeroom teacher, led me to the gym storage room. That’s where I saw my daughter. My Chloe lay naked and still on one of the green gym mats, her legs spread apart. A dark purple bruise circled her neck like fingerprints. Her wide eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, her face pale with the unmistakable look of death. Just yesterday, she’d been bouncing around, full of life. The world spun around me. I stumbled and fell to my knees beside her body. The moment I saw two officers carefully lift her into a body bag, I lost all control. A raw, heartbroken sob tore through me. After my husband passed away, it was just Chloe and me. She was my entire world, my reason for living! Who killed my daughter?! I stopped working, put everything on hold. Two weeks later, the police finally gave me their findings. They had interviewed students, Ms. Peterson, and people in the neighborhood. Piecing it all together, they arrived at a logical conclusion. The man who killed my daughter was the same one I’d seen the police struggling with that day. He was a homeless man, known to have psychiatric problems. He often wandered near the school, so the security guard hadn’t paid much attention. On the day Chloe died, the security guard had accidentally fallen asleep on duty. The man had slipped into the school and killed my daughter. I couldn’t accept it. My daughter… my Chloe… just starting seventh grade… Her life, barely begun, snuffed out by a mentally ill man! And violated even after death! What made it even worse was knowing that because of his diagnosis, the man wouldn’t face the death penalty – he’d just be sent to a psychiatric hospital. But the police report showed the semen recovered from my daughter was a definitive match to the homeless man. The hard evidence was laid out in front of me. Not just the police, but Ms. Peterson and the school administration urged me to accept the outcome quickly. “Sarah,” Ms. Peterson said gently, her voice full of strained sympathy, “I know this is incredibly hard to accept right now. But dragging this out won’t do anyone any good.” Filled with a turmoil of doubt, grief, anger, and confusion, I finally signed the paper closing the case. For the next three months, I felt hollowed out, stripped of all energy and spirit. I spent my days sitting numbly in the empty house, from dawn till dusk, replaying memories of Chloe. The hospital sent me a termination letter due to my unexplained absences. I had no heart left for being a doctor, for saving lives. Every time I thought of the patients I’d healed, a bitter unfairness washed over me. Why them and not my Chloe? Don’t they say good things happen to good people? Then why did my daughter die so horribly? One morning, I was sorting through Chloe’s things, tears streaming down my face, soaking the floor. “Chloe, you always complained I didn’t have time to play with you. Mommy was wrong. Please come back, okay?” I spoke to the empty air. Of course, the silent room offered no reply. Clutching the little pony stuffed animal she loved so much, a sudden urge hit me. I wanted to see the man who supposedly killed her. He was confined to the state psychiatric hospital now. No phones, no internet. Just patients with vacant stares. Through the thick observation window, I watched the man sitting on his bed. My hand slipped into my pocket… I had brought a knife. Just as I was about to rush in, to end him, my phone vibrated. An anonymous text message popped up. 【How do you like my masterpiece?】 【Your daughter was so stupid, so easy to trick. Oh, forgot to tell you, she was crying for her mommy right before she died!】 【Hahahaha so funny, so much fun…】

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  • While I Was Away, My Wife Froze Our Daughter to Death

    My wife brought her young lover home while I was away on a business trip. To keep our six-year-old daughter from interrupting their fun, in fourteen-degree weather, my wife’s lover locked her out on the balcony all night. By the time I got home, my daughter was barely breathing. The prolonged exposure to the cold had caused multiple organ failure. Sobbing, I begged my wife to come to the hospital to see our daughter one last time. She couldn’t care less, even angrily slapping me across the face. “Ethan, do you ever do anything besides making excuses to get my attention? This just makes me sick of you!” I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth, a desolate smile spreading across my face. “Fine. I won’t bother you again.” This marriage was about to end soon anyway. … My business trip was supposed to continue, but a sudden blizzard grounded all flights. Around midnight, I dragged my suitcase home. Afraid of waking my sleeping wife and child, I let myself in quietly. As I approached the bedroom, I heard faint, intimate moans coming from inside. I froze. Through the slightly ajar door and in the dim light, I glimpsed my wife, Chloe, half-reclined on the bed, a half-naked man leaning over her, doing things I couldn’t bear to describe. I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. The embarrassing, lustful sounds kept spilling out from the room. “Chloe, is your husband as good as me? Who makes you happier, him or me?” “You, of course!” Chloe gasped. “My husband’s useless, getting old, body’s breaking down. How could he compare to a young, energetic guy like you!” I stood there, stunned into disbelief, a thunderclap exploding in my head, my whole body trembling uncontrollably. The intimate sounds continued. “Nate… it was never satisfying enough back at the office. Tonight… you better please me properly!” “Chloe, this is the third time tonight, still not satisfied?” “Three times isn’t nearly enough… five times, at least!” … I listened blankly to their conversation, my mind a void, my chest pricked by a thousand needles, the pain so sharp it almost stole my breath. I couldn’t believe the woman I’d been married to for seven years had betrayed our marriage long ago. In an instant, immense rage consumed my reason. Burning with fury, I kicked the bedroom door wide open. With a loud bang, the two people inside jumped, startled, scrambling off the bed. Chloe hastily threw on a coat, looking at me in shock. “Ethan, weren’t you on a business trip? Why are you back so suddenly?” Chloe’s face was flushed, and several glaring red marks on her neck stung my eyes. My heart aching beyond measure, I strode towards her. “If I hadn’t come back, how could I have caught you in the act?” “What nonsense are you talking!” Chloe’s face flashed with annoyance as she tried to defend herself. “Nate is just someone I hired for an in-home massage. We were just doing a simple massage. Can’t your mind be less filthy!” “Massage?” I couldn’t help but sneer. “Massaging you with his mouth? And does a massage require taking off all your clothes?” Chloe flew into a rage, yelling at me furiously, “Are you blind! Can’t you see I’m still wearing underwear? Where am I naked!” My gaze dropped to the lace bra and thong visible under her coat. The absurdity was overwhelming. In seven years of marriage, she had never dressed this seductively for me. My voice was ice. “Are you sure what you’re wearing isn’t lingerie?” “Ethan!” Chloe’s eyes widened in fury, glaring at me. “Can you stop twisting things! I work hard enough all day, and then I have to come home to your attitude! I just paid for a massage, do you really need to make such a big deal out of it?” She showed no guilt, only righteous indignation. I stared at the Chloe before me, feeling nothing but a chilling sorrow in my heart. She was always like this, twisting logic, turning the tables, making wrongs seem right. Suddenly, I felt incredibly tired. Chloe ignored me, went to the closet, grabbed some clothes, got dressed, and then headed for the door with the massage guy. “Good thing you’re back. You can take care of Lily. I have to go back to the office for overtime. I’m leaving now.” With that, she left with the massage guy without a backward glance. 2 Only then did I remember my daughter. Lily was six now, old enough to understand some things. How much psychological damage would Chloe brazenly bringing a man home for an affair cause her? I couldn’t bear to think about it. I immediately went to my daughter’s room, only to find it empty. Living room, study, playroom… Lily was nowhere to be found. Panic surged through me, my brow starting to twitch uncontrollably. Just as I was about to call Chloe, I caught a glimpse of a small figure almost buried in snow on the dimly lit balcony. I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. I rushed over, unlocked the sliding balcony door, and with trembling hands, lifted my daughter from the freezing snow. Lily was barely conscious, curled into a tight ball, her breath shallow, her body bone-chillingly cold. The glass door was covered in scratches, mark after mark made by her small hands, shocking and heartbreaking to see. Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. Pushing aside my grief, I hurried my daughter to the hospital. Outside the emergency room, I furiously dialed Chloe’s number. But her phone remained off. Hours later, a nurse wheeled Lily out of the ER. The doctor shook his head regretfully. “You brought her in too late. The child suffered from hypothermia for too long, leading to multiple organ failure. She doesn’t have much time left… You should prepare for the worst.” I stared at the doctor in disbelief, my heart feeling like it was being shredded by a thousand knives, the pain nearly suffocating me. I couldn’t accept that my daughter, so full of life just yesterday, was now about to be separated from me forever. Lily was in a deep coma, yet she kept murmuring, “Mommy… Mommy.” My heart twisted in agony. The doctor sighed. “The child probably wants to see her mother one last time. You should call her mother quickly; there isn’t much time.” Clutching my aching chest, I nodded, grief-stricken. No matter how deep our conflict ran, I couldn’t let my daughter die with regret. Chloe’s phone was still unreachable. I drove straight to her company, running three red lights in my desperate haste. But as I reached her office door, I heard a familiar male voice from inside. “Chloe, last night at your place was unfinished business. Your bratty daughter kept interrupting us. We finally locked her out on the balcony, and then your useless husband came back. Such a buzzkill! How about now… we continue where we left off?” My fists clenched tightly, knuckles white. Chloe’s soft, seductive voice seeped through the door crack. “Okay, while no one’s bothering us, let’s have some real fun~” I couldn’t hold back any longer. I furiously kicked the office door open. The two, who were undressing, jumped in fright. Chloe quickly pulled her clothes back on. Seeing it was me, her face turned livid, and she scolded sharply, “Ethan, why didn’t you knock!” Consumed by rage, I strode towards the massage guy and punched him hard in the face. Before he could react, I kicked him twice more, sending him staggering backward. I grabbed his collar, raising my fist again. Chloe rushed over, enraged, and slapped me hard. “Ethan, are you crazy! Why are you hitting people for no reason?” My blood boiled, and I stared daggers at Chloe. “Chloe, to screw around with this shameless gigolo, you locked your own daughter out on the balcony in the freezing cold? Do you have any idea how cold it was last night? Fourteen degrees Fahrenheit!” But Chloe wasn’t concerned about Lily; her only focus was defending her lover. “I’m warning you, watch your mouth! Nate is my assistant now, not some gigolo! Don’t you dare slander his reputation!” My heart felt like it was being torn apart. I forced back the pain. “Chloe, do you know Lily was freezing last night, she got hypothermia, she’s dying…” “Stop talking nonsense all day long!” Chloe refused to believe me, shouting, “That girl is tough as nails, eats like a horse, hasn’t caught a cold in years. How could she be dying from being outside for a little while? I think you’re just trying to manipulate me!” Thinking of my daughter in the hospital, tears flowed uncontrollably. “Fourteen degrees, all night long, Lily was only wearing thin pajamas. Even an adult couldn’t stand that, let alone a six-year-old child…” “Enough, Ethan!” Chloe cut me off impatiently. “All I did was have Nate come over for a massage, and you’re making such a jealous scene! If you want to be jealous, don’t use our child to lie to me!” Utterly exhausted, I didn’t want to argue anymore. I just hoped she would go see Lily. My voice hoarse, I pleaded sorrowfully, “I’m not lying. Lily is really dying. She wants to see you. Please come to the hospital with me, see her one last time…” But Chloe remained unconvinced, raising her hand and slapping me again. “Ethan, do you ever do anything besides making excuses to get my attention? You’re over thirty, accomplished nothing, and all you do is get jealous! This just makes me sick of you!” I stared blankly at Chloe, feeling chilled to the bone. Seven years of marriage. I poured my heart and soul into this family, gave her my salary, did all the chores, gave her everything. When Chloe wanted to start her business, I even gave her my parents’ retirement savings to support her. And this was how it ended. I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth, a desolate smile spreading across my face. “Fine. I won’t bother you again.” This marriage had no reason to continue. 3 I returned to the hospital, heartbroken. Sitting by Lily’s bedside, watching her pale face and weak breathing, my tears fell like broken strings of pearls. My daughter used to be lively, cheerful, innocent, and naive, a little sunbeam constantly brightening my life. Now, she lay weakly on the hospital bed, hanging on by a thread. In the end, all I could do was watch helplessly as the heartbeat on the monitor slowly flatlined. My daughter was gone forever. I held her small body, crying hysterically. I handled Lily’s funeral arrangements alone. After her cremation, I carried her urn back home. It was late at night when I arrived. Chloe had once again brought the massage guy home. They were flirting openly on the living room sofa. I was numb, walking past them as if they weren’t there. “Ethan,” Chloe called out nonchalantly, “Nate is visiting today. He’s hungry. Go make him a bowl of noodles.” I ignored her, walking straight into Lily’s room. I took out a duffel bag and started packing Lily’s favorite clothes and toys, intending to burn them and bury the ashes with hers. Halfway through packing, Chloe stormed in angrily. “Ethan, I’m talking to you, didn’t you hear me!” I didn’t acknowledge her. Chloe, furious, snatched a toy from my hand, cursing, “What’s your problem? I haven’t even blamed you for hitting Nate today, and you’re giving me the silent treatment!” She glanced at the duffel bag in my hand. “Why are you packing Lily’s things for no reason? Don’t tell me you’re planning to run away with her? Ethan, you’re over thirty, can you stop being so childish? Is playing these games all day fun?” Seeing my continued silence, she went on, “How many times do I have to tell you, Nate is just my new assistant. Those times you caught us, he was just giving me a massage, nothing else! Can you stop being so jealous? You’re really exhausting me!” I didn’t even look at her, continuing to pack my daughter’s belongings. Once everything was packed, I turned to face her and calmly said, “Chloe, let’s get a divorce.” “What did you say?” Chloe paused, disbelief washing over her face. “Are you crazy? You want to divorce me?” “Yes, divorce,” I murmured softly. “Ethan, how long are you going to keep throwing this tantrum!” “I’m not throwing a tantrum. I’m serious.” My voice was devoid of emotion. Chloe, however, was agitated, her neck flushed red with anger, her eyes filled with resentment. “On what grounds do you want a divorce? I’ve been with you for so many years, sacrificed so much for this family, even had a C-section, cut through seven layers to give you a daughter, and this is how you repay me?” Hearing the word “daughter,” an unavoidable stab of pain shot through my heart. My voice hoarse, I retorted coldly, “Chloe, you’re unworthy of being a mother. What right do you have to mention our daughter in front of me?” “Ethan!” Chloe completely lost it, her eyes blazing, her face contorted with rage. Suddenly, she snatched the duffel bag from my hand and threw it violently onto the floor. Instantly, Lily’s belongings scattered everywhere. “Ethan, don’t push your luck! I’m telling you, my patience has limits!” Looking at the mess on the floor, my heart ached. I immediately bent down to pick up Lily’s things. But Chloe’s gaze shifted to the urn on the table. “What piece of junk is this? Carrying it around like a treasure since you walked in. Did some slut give it to you? I’m smashing it today!” My pupils contracted. I quickly stood up to stop her. “Chloe, don’t!” But Chloe was blinded by rage, completely ignoring my plea. With a sweep of her hand, she knocked the urn violently to the floor. With a loud crash, the urn shattered into pieces. My daughter’s ashes scattered across the floor, drifting in the air, a scene of desolate sorrow. My composure shattered, I nearly fainted. “Chloe, do you know what this is—” “Chloe, what are you guys doing?” The massage guy, hearing the commotion outside, walked in, wrinkling his nose in disgust. “Why is it so dusty in here? What kind of dirty stuff did you spill?” Hearing this, my blood boiled, the rage inside me about to explode. What right did he have to call my daughter dirty! Fury consumed my reason. I ran into the kitchen, grabbed a kitchen knife, and charged towards the massage guy, overcome with rage. Chloe’s face paled. She immediately ran over to block me. “Ethan, what are you doing? Are you insane!” My eyes were bloodshot, my body trembling with anger. “I’m going to kill this adulterer!” Chloe thrust out her chin, her gaze sharpening, almost grinding her teeth. “Ethan, what’s gotten into you! If you have the guts, kill me first! You coward, do you dare?” I stared deadly at Chloe, the hand holding the knife trembling slightly. For a fleeting moment, I truly wanted to raise the knife and slash her neck. But just then, my phone rang, breaking the tense standoff. My sanity gradually returned. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. Lily wasn’t buried yet. I couldn’t do anything foolish. I took out my phone and answered the call. The cemetery staff’s loud voice came through the receiver immediately. “Mr. Hayes, the paperwork for the burial plot you purchased is complete. You can proceed with the burial now…” Chloe froze, her face filled with astonishment. “Buy a plot? What plot? Who died?”

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  • Her Reward: Finding Fortune After Leaving Him

    A severe blizzard warning, and suddenly, the apartment complex went into lockdown. Got home to the surprise of seeing my soon-to-be ex-wife and her ex-boyfriend, also trapped inside my place. And just like that, the “cohabitation” of two guys and one girl officially began. 1 “Emergency Alert: Severe Blizzard Warning. All residents are advised to minimize travel.” This year’s snowstorm caught me completely off guard. The shops near the complex were closing one after another. Looking at the two huge bags of groceries I’d just dropped a ton of cash on, I hurried my steps home. At my doorstep, I stamped the snow off my boots. Just as I was reaching into my pocket for my keys, I noticed the door was actually unlocked. Sarah’s voice came from inside, “You don’t have to, I can unpack myself.” I pushed the door open and instantly found myself face-to-face with Sarah and the man standing beside her. The guy seemed a bit awkward. After glancing at Sarah, he turned his back and went back to unpacking the luggage he’d brought. It suddenly clicked – this must be Sarah’s ex-boyfriend, the one who just got back from overseas, the one she was supposedly head-over-heels for, right? Sarah pulled the man over to me, saying calmly, “This is Leo…” “Oh… oh, hi, Leo. I’m Alex.” For a moment, we all seemed a bit awkward. After a few seconds of silence, Leo stepped forward, offering to shake my hand. But my hands were full of the groceries I’d just bought. Sarah frowned at me, then walked over and took the bags from my hands. “Why’d you buy so much stuff? Celebrating our divorce?” Her tone was laced with annoyance. Remembering why I bought the groceries, I quickly said, “There’s a massive blizzard coming. They’re about to close the roads in and out of the complex.” “Locked down?” Sarah’s frown deepened. She glanced sideways at Leo, who was still dealing with his suitcase, a hint of worry in her clear, bright eyes. At this point, Leo looked concerned too. He looked worriedly at Sarah and asked quietly. “Sarah, what am I going to do then? I still have to…” “Alright, what can we do? You’ll just have to stay here for now. We’ll figure it out after this blizzard passes,” Sarah interrupted him. It finally dawned on me. With the complex suddenly locked down, didn’t that mean Sarah and her ex-boyfriend would have to stay here… with me? The three of us living together. I wondered if her ex would feel awkward. 2 The reason Sarah and I got married didn’t involve much love. It was more a marriage of convenience. My family owns one of the biggest companies in the city. My father was dead set on me taking over the family business, but I desperately wanted to break free from my family’s control and make my own way. When I told my father my plans, he called me useless and lazy, kicked me out in a fit of anger, and cut off all my credit cards. The sudden, drastic change caught me completely off guard. So, I went to a buddy’s bar, hoping he could help me figure something out. But he just shot that idea down, telling me to hurry home and apologize to my father. Guess we were just on different paths. Just as I was about to leave the bar, I suddenly saw Sarah in a corner. Sarah was a regular at this bar. Since I came here often too, we’d become friends over time. Seeing her drinking alone and looking down today, I walked over to say hi. From her, I learned that her family was pressuring her into an arranged marriage, and she’d run off to hide from it. Misery loves company, huh? After I told her my story, Sarah’s eyes lit up. “Why don’t you move in with me? I’ll support you!” I almost choked on my drink. She winked and said, “We can have a fake marriage. You help me deal with my parents.” “I won’t let you help for free. I’ll give you eight hundred bucks a month.” Me, Alex Miller, heir to the Miller Corp fortune, living off a woman like some kind of kept man? After a moment’s hesitation, I said, “Deal.” 3 About a month ago, I found out Sarah’s ex-boyfriend was coming back. I didn’t want things to get messy, so I suggested we get divorced. We were just waiting for her to get back from her business trip to finalize things. But I never expected we’d get snowed in by a blizzard before we could sort out the divorce. Knowing Sarah’s ex was staying, I knew when to make myself scarce. I moved all my stuff out of the master bedroom, graciously letting her and her… future husband?… have it. I moved into the guest room next door. What a shame! After living with Sarah for so long, I’d never even held her hand, and now this guy just waltzes in. From then on, the three of us officially began our long “cohabitation.” After a few days, I realized why Sarah liked Leo and had waited so long for him. Leo not only did chores but was also an amazing cook. Whatever Sarah needed doing, Leo would jump in and do it. “Leo, you’re incredible! Sarah must be the luckiest woman in the world to be with you!” I couldn’t help but praise Leo. After all, I was just contributing grocery money; Leo was doing all the cooking and cleaning. Gotta lay on the compliments thick. Leo got a little embarrassed by the praise. He scratched his head and smiled, saying, “I was living abroad alone, and the food there didn’t really agree with me. So I started trying to cook for myself, and gradually got the hang of it.” He then turned and looked affectionately at Sarah, but she just ate slowly, without giving him much of a reaction. Why was Sarah acting like this? Or… was my presence as the ex-husband making her uncomfortable? Thinking this, I decided to stop being the third wheel and head downstairs to play video games at my buddy Henderson’s place. But then I saw Leo walk into the kitchen looking dejected, probably hurt by Sarah’s reaction just now. I tapped Sarah’s hand and whispered, “Leo’s such a great guy, why are you treating him like that? You need to change your attitude.” Sarah paused mid-bite, glanced at me coolly, “None of your business. Can’t all that food shut you up?” “…” Harsh. She’s got a sharp tongue. I was used to it. I decided to ignore this annoying woman. After Leo came back from the kitchen, I teased, “Leo, your future wife here has had a long face these past few days. Is it because she thinks I’m extra baggage, interrupting your quality time?” Leo looked uncomfortable. Sarah scowled. See? I knew it! “Alex.” Suddenly, Sarah yelled my name… 4 I jumped instinctively. She hadn’t yelled at me like that since our fake marriage began. I quickly walked to the door, grabbed a jacket off the hook, and while putting it on, said to Sarah, “I’m going over to Henderson’s to play games!” With that, I made a quick exit. Just because they wanted some alone time, they didn’t have to treat me like the enemy! When I got to Henderson’s, I took off my jacket and pulled out my phone. There was a notification – a message from Sarah. I opened it, but the message had already been deleted. I hate it when people do that! My current situation with Sarah was too awkward, and with her boyfriend right there, I couldn’t exactly ask her about it. So, I had to take my curiosity with me to Henderson’s. Henderson was my only friend in this complex, sharing my love for video games. He handed me a glass of water and teased, “Mr. Miller, eating well lately, huh? Looks like Sarah’s been feeding you up.” I chuckled, about to say it was because we had another guy in the house who could cook. But Henderson asked first, “By the way, where’s your wife and her cousin?” Cousin? What cousin? It hit me instantly – the “cousin” Henderson mentioned must be Sarah’s ex-boyfriend, Leo. I’d agreed to the fake marriage partly out of necessity, and partly because Sarah was definitely my type, really attractive. Even though our marriage was fake, people on the outside couldn’t tell. So, I figured Sarah must have invented the “cousin” identity for Leo to avoid gossip about him. I gave Henderson some vague answers and went back to gaming with him. It was already dark. I said goodbye to Henderson. I wanted to give Sarah and Leo more time alone, but it was getting late, so I had to bite the bullet and head home. On the way back, I just hoped I wouldn’t walk in on the scene playing out in my head. Partly because I still had some lingering feelings for Sarah, and partly because walking in on something like that would be awkward for everyone… I stared thoughtfully at the closed door. Should I ring the bell to be polite? Or just walk in like normal, since I was technically still the man of the house? I decided on the latter and used my key to open the door.

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  • After My Daughter Died, I Regretted Everything

    My son, Ethan, is brilliant, sharp as a tack. Everyone says he’s gifted, a boy genius. My daughter, Penny… well, she’s the slow one, can barely string a sentence together. She makes me look like a fool in public. Sometimes, I’ve even thought… it would be better if she were just… gone. But then, Penny really did die. And all I do now is cry, wishing she’d come back. 1. I was right in the middle of Ethan’s parent-teacher conference when Penny’s homeroom teacher called. “Hello, is this Penny Miller’s mother?” The teacher on the other end confirmed who I was, then continued, “You weren’t able to make it to the conference today, and I wanted to chat about Penny’s latest grades. Would you happen to have some time? I could stop by for a home visit…” “Oh, I’m so sorry, Ms. Evans,” I said, scanning the classroom for Ethan’s desk. “Her dad and I have just been swamped with work lately, couldn’t get away.” I found Ethan’s spot and sat down, distracted. “Could you just text me her report card? I’m actually in the middle of something right now. I’ll call you back later.” I mumbled some excuse, eager to get off the phone, and hung up without a second thought. The mom next to me glanced over. “Ethan’s mom, I didn’t know you had a daughter too!” she asked, curious. “Your son is so amazing, your daughter must be doing great in school too, right? What grade is she in? Where does she go?” My face stiffened. I forced a tight smile, trying to hide how awkward I felt, terrified someone would sense something was wrong. Nobody would believe it if I told them. My son brought home trophies from Mathletes, writing contests, piano competitions like they were giving them away. My daughter? She was practically non-verbal, a little simpleton. I was embarrassed to even admit they were siblings when we were out. But secrets have a way of getting out. Since I wasn’t saying anything, the parent in front of me suddenly chimed in, “Ethan’s mom, is Penny Miller in 8th grade your daughter? My oldest son is in her class.” “Yes… She grew up mostly with her grandmother, you know, out of state. The schools weren’t great there. She only transferred here for middle school.” My face flushed crimson. That was the best I could manage, a flimsy excuse to cover my embarrassment. “Oh, that explains it! I was wondering why they were so different. My son mentioned it, but I didn’t really believe him.” The parent in front chuckled, covering her mouth. “Well, it doesn’t really matter,” she said, her tone dripping with insinuation. “As long as the girl’s pretty. Just needs to work on her speaking, maybe she could be an influencer or something later. You don’t need much education for that nowadays.” I felt the sting of her mockery, my cheeks burning. I wished the floor would swallow me whole. It was all Penny’s fault. Failing every subject, always at the bottom of the class, making me, her mother, look bad too. And her teacher, making such a big deal out of everything. So what if I missed the conference? Did she really have to call and rub it in? Wasn’t I humiliated enough? Just as I was sinking into my seat, wanting to disappear, Ethan walked over quietly, report card in hand. “Mom, here are my grades.” I took it automatically. One look, and my mood instantly lifted. All the irritation vanished. Just as I expected, Ethan was number one in his grade again. Perfect scores in Physics and Math, even. I glanced at the faces of the other parents clutching their kids’ report cards; you could tell from their expressions their kids hadn’t done nearly as well. “Ethan’s first again! You really know how to raise them, Mrs. Miller.” “Look at you! Why can’t you be more like Ethan Miller? Look at these grades! Are you even trying?” “Mom, Ethan’s naturally gifted! How am I supposed to compete with that…” Listening to the praise for Ethan and the complaints other parents had about their own kids, a small smile touched my lips. See? It wasn’t that I favored my son. It was just that compared to my daughter’s utter lack of potential, my son was simply… outstanding. Smart, talented, exceptional. That was what my child was supposed to be. 2. Basking in the envious looks from the other parents, I happily examined Ethan’s report card, turning it over and over. Ethan stood beside me silently the whole time. It wasn’t until a few tall boys in school jackets walked past the back door, winking and nudging him, that he reacted. “Yo, Ethan! Let’s go shoot some hoops!” “Are those your friends?” I paused, surprised, looking skeptically at my slight son. Ethan opened his mouth, but before he could speak, the leader of the group politely bowed towards me. “Hi, Mrs. Miller. Nice to meet you. We’re Ethan’s friends.” He turned back to Ethan with a grin. “Ethan, didn’t we say we had that game today?” Ethan mumbled a soft “Yeah,” then looked at me for permission. “Mom, can I go hang out with my friends for a bit?” “Of course! Young people should be active. You shouldn’t just sit home studying all the time. Go get some exercise.” I agreed cheerfully. Even though I prioritized his studies, I wasn’t that kind of rigid parent. Kids needed to be well-rounded – academics, arts, sports – to grow up healthy. But Ethan didn’t move. He fiddled with the hem of his shirt, lowering his head. “Mom,” he whispered, “can I have some money? We were thinking of grabbing dinner together later…” I was already thrilled about his grades, so I didn’t think anything of it. I readily pulled a hundred-dollar bill from my wallet and handed it to him. Ethan visibly relaxed, took the money happily, and left with his friends. The parent-teacher conference didn’t last too long, but afterwards, a few other parents invited me out to eat, wanting tips on raising a successful son. By the time dinner was over, it was already dark. I took a cab home. Seeing the house completely dark reminded me that my husband was out of town on business, and Ethan was out with friends. No wonder it felt so empty and cold tonight. I didn’t dwell on it and flipped on the lights. The sight that greeted me almost gave me a heart attack. Penny was curled up on the sofa in her dirty school uniform, staring at me. Her dark eyes were completely still, unblinking. She looked vacant, almost creepy in the dim light. My heart stopped, then a wave of inexplicable rage washed over me. “Penny Miller, what the hell is wrong with you! Are you trying to scare me to death, lurking here like a cat?” I stormed over, yanked her off the sofa, and started yelling, pointing right in her face. “Do you have any idea your teacher called me again today? All about your terrible grades! You are embarrassing me to death!” “Why can’t you be more like your brother? I’m not asking you to be number one! I’d be grateful if you just weren’t dead last for once!” “I don’t know what I did to deserve this, how I could have produced such a stupid kid.” I was furious, my blood boiling. But Penny just stood there like a wooden doll, staring at me wide-eyed. Only after I finished yelling did she finally utter a sound. “Mommy… I’m hungry…” “Hungry? What right do you have to be hungry! Look at your grades! Do you even deserve to eat?!” I shot her a hateful glare and slammed my bedroom door shut. I truly couldn’t understand it. My husband and I were both college professors. Intellectually, genetically, there shouldn’t be any issues. How could we have a daughter like Penny, a simpleton who couldn’t even follow a conversation? Because of her, I had to endure those parents’ mockery today. If I had known she’d turn out like this, I never would have had her. 3. The next morning, Penny left early for school, backpack already on. She was in 8th grade, with standardized tests coming up, so she had to go in early for study hall every morning. My husband and I were too busy with work to make her breakfast. We just loaded up her school lunch account and let her eat all three meals there. Ethan, on the other hand, had a more flexible schedule. I’d take him out for breakfast on my way to work, then drop him off at his school. It fit perfectly into my routine. But maybe because I went to bed so late last night, I woke up late this morning. I slapped the alarm off on my phone, forcing myself to sit up. My head was pounding. I looked into the living room; Ethan was already dressed and sitting there, reviewing his notes. “Honey, Mommy’s not feeling too well today. Here’s some money, can you take a cab to school and grab breakfast on the way?” “Did you have fun with your friends yesterday? You got back really late. Try to be home earlier next time, okay? Don’t make Mommy worry.” Seeing Ethan nod obediently, I quickly grabbed his backpack for him. Then I reached for my purse by the door, fumbling inside for some cash. As my fingers touched the inner pocket where I kept small bills, I froze. It was empty. Completely empty. I refused to believe it. I pulled the purse off the hook, turning it inside out, searching frantically. “That can’t be right,” I muttered. “I know I put the change from grocery shopping in here…” “Ethan, did you touch Mommy’s purse?” “N-no. No, I didn’t.” His eyes flickered for a second, but I didn’t pay much attention. Then he added, “I saw Penny looking through stuff yesterday when I got home. Mom, maybe… maybe she took it?” My movements stopped abruptly. My brow furrowed, a seed of suspicion taking root. My husband was out of town. It was just me, Ethan, and Penny in the house. I knew Ethan; he would never take money without asking. That left only one possibility. I thought Penny was just slow, maybe a bit simple. I never imagined she’d start stealing from us. Stealing pennies today, gold bars tomorrow. This wasn’t about intelligence anymore; this was about character. Utterly rotten. What would she become? My expression turned icy. But Ethan was going to be late, so I pushed it aside for the moment. I pulled a fresh hundred-dollar bill from my wallet, pressed it into his hand, and put him in a cab. All day long, I rehearsed what I would say, how I would handle this. How could I teach Penny a lesson, make her understand the gravity of her mistake? My daughter being slow was embarrassing enough. I absolutely would not allow her to become a degenerate, a leech on society. When Penny got home from school, I told Ethan to go to his room and study. I sat on the sofa, waiting for her, forcing myself to stay calm. She came in wearing the same dirty school uniform as yesterday. I frowned, annoyed. “Where have you been playing? You’re covered in mud again.” “N-nowhere. We… we had P.E. today.” She took off her jacket, stammering out an explanation. I took a deep breath, trying to keep my anger in check. I pointed to the sofa. “Come here. Mom needs to ask you something.” Penny looked confused but sat down beside me obediently. Her pretty face stared blankly at me. I kept my voice gentle. “Tell Mommy the truth. Did you take the money from my purse?” Penny immediately shook her head like crazy, waving her hands frantically. “No! I… I didn’t take it!” I knew she’d deny it. “But Ethan saw you going through my purse yesterday,” I said patiently. “Mommy isn’t going to punish you. If you can admit your mistake, that means you’re an honest girl, and Mommy will forgive you.” “I didn’t… didn’t take your money!” Suddenly, she bristled like a cornered hedgehog. “Wh-what proof do you have? I just didn’t!” She abruptly turned and started shouting towards Ethan’s room, looking like she wanted to charge in there and attack him. “When? When did you see me take money!” Ethan, who had just peeked his head out, jumped back startled by her outburst, retreating like a quail. “What are you yelling about? Do you want the neighbors to come over and see what a spectacle you’re making?” “What did your brother say that was wrong? I’ll find out soon enough if you stole it or not!” Seeing Penny still defiant, my dislike for her intensified, boiling over until I finally lost all patience. I snatched her backpack and dumped everything out onto the floor. A few crumpled dollar bills fluttered down, silently confirming my suspicions. I laughed coldly. “You didn’t take it? Then where did this money come from?” “I thought maybe you just made a mistake, went down the wrong path for a moment. I wanted to give you a chance to confess. But you just keep lying!” “This isn’t about being slow anymore! This is about your morals! You’re morally bankrupt! You’re a shameless little thief! You’re going to end up as trash, a burden on society!” Penny stood frozen, tears streaming down her face. “You dare to cry? You steal from your own family, and now you have the nerve to cry?” I couldn’t stand seeing her like this. Her stutter already made communication difficult, and now tears made it impossible. Rage surged through me. I grabbed her arm hard, shaking her. “What is there to cry about? I should never have given birth to you! Why don’t you just drop dead!” 4. That evening, Penny didn’t eat dinner. She just stayed huddled in her room, refusing to come out. My husband got back from his trip and sensed the strange atmosphere in the house. “What’s wrong?” he asked me quietly. “Did Penny bomb another test?” “Hmph! If only it were just bad grades!” I slammed the lesson plans I was holding onto the table, furious. “Your daughter! Your precious daughter, Penny! She’s started stealing money now!” “Stealing money?” My husband looked startled, surprised. “What happened?” “The cash I keep in my purse for groceries went missing. I thought maybe I’d misplaced it, but Ethan saw Penny rummaging through my bag that night. Today, I checked her backpack, and sure enough, there was money inside.” “Ethan saw her?” My husband glanced towards the living room where Ethan was watching TV. He sighed. “That doesn’t necessarily mean Penny took it, does it? Did you check serial numbers? Mark the bills?” Unlike me, my husband always felt that Penny, being naturally slower and having a stutter, needed more care and attention than our bright son. He tended to favor her more. I knew his leanings. I shot him a glare, indignant. “Don’t try to twist things! Who else could it have been? Ethan never lies! She’s just trouble!” “The cash you mentioned…” My husband paused, then suddenly seemed to remember something. He slapped his forehead. “Was it in that black purse? The one you usually take grocery shopping?” I nodded, confused. “Yeah, why?” “Then you’ve misunderstood Penny. I took that cash.” He sighed, looking resigned. “I was rushing to the airport that day, and my phone was dead. I grabbed the small bills from your purse for cab fare.” “Are you serious?” I eyed him suspiciously. “Then why didn’t you say so earlier?” “I just didn’t think of it until now. But you really did accuse Penny wrongly this time. Think about it – finding money in her bag doesn’t prove anything. What if it was her own allowance she’d saved up?” My husband nudged me gently with his elbow, reminding me. “You need to apologize to Penny, properly. You really hurt her feelings, yelling like that when she was innocent. The poor kid must be heartbroken.” “Penny might not be as sharp as Ethan, but she’s a good kid. Didn’t you used to say daughters are the sweet ones, the little comforts?” He continued gently, trying to soothe me. “You forgot, didn’t you? Tomorrow’s your birthday – your actual birthday, not the lunar one. Remember last year? Because you said winter winds were harsh, Penny saved her allowance all year to buy you that scarf. Maybe this money was for your birthday too.” His words jolted my memory. It was true. I always focused on my lunar birthday, often forgetting the Gregorian one. But Penny… she always quietly prepared a gift for me every year. Most of my energy went into Ethan. I knew exactly how much he ate for every meal. But Penny? I paid so little attention to her, I’d completely forgotten these small, important details. “She’s probably asleep now. Tomorrow. I’ll talk to her tomorrow.” I turned away awkwardly. The image of Penny’s tear-streaked face flashed in my mind, and a pang of guilt surfaced. I was good at lecturing kids, but apologizing? This was new territory. I didn’t even know how to start. I silently decided I’d make her favorite meal tomorrow, try to make up for wrongly accusing her. With that plan, I went to the market the next day and picked out the freshest seafood and meat. I spent the afternoon cooking Penny’s favorites: shrimp scampi and sweet and sour pork ribs. My husband, hoping to mend the rift between us and celebrate my birthday, had already ordered a cake. We sat at home, full of anticipation, waiting for Penny and Ethan to come home. But time passed, and neither of them appeared. “What’s going on? School should have been out ages ago.” I checked the clock, just about to call the school, when the sound of the front door unlocking startled us. Ethan walked in alone, backpack slung over one shoulder. His face was pale, like he was scared of something. “Ethan, where’s your sister?” My husband looked past him towards the empty doorway, his face hardening. “Didn’t I tell you to walk home with your sister today?” he asked sharply. Ethan’s eyes darted away for a second. “I… I didn’t see her,” he stammered. “So I just came home.” “Maybe she went off with friends. You know how girls like to browse stationery shops after school. Don’t take it out on Ethan.” I bristled at my husband’s tone, about to defend Ethan further, when my cell phone suddenly rang with an unfamiliar number. “Hello, yes, am I speaking to Penny Miller’s parent?” “Yes, this is she. What is it?” There was a slight pause on the other end. Then, the voice said softly, “This is the City Police Department. We found Penny Miller’s body in the alley near Westwood Middle School earlier this afternoon. We need you to come down to the station.”

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