Category: English

To afford the expensive rut-suppressant injections for him, I worked multiple part-time jobs day and night, never daring to take a day off even when I was sick. Until one day, I overheard the truth. “Elias ordered a $230,000 bottle of wine, and she’s literally killing herself working for a $2,300 injection.” “Haha, poor people are so cheap. You just feed them a few lies and they hand over their entire heart.” “Just don’t take the joke too far. If your Master finds out, it won’t end well for you.” That was when I finally understood. To him, I was nothing more than an entertaining game to kill time. It wouldn’t be long before he kicked me to the curb. But what he didn’t know was that my billionaire father had just found me. In three days. I was going to leave this place and step into my life as a wealthy heiress. 1. Elias was an Incubus I found abandoned in the pouring rain. At the time, he could barely maintain his human form. He was covered in mud, his golden curly hair plastered to his back by the rain, and his eyes were clouded with a hazy, mesmerized red. He was breathtakingly beautiful. I was completely captivated. By the time I snapped back to reality, I had already carried him back to my tiny, unfurnished apartment. I agonized over the decision. I could barely afford to feed myself, let alone an Incubus. But looking at Elias’s pitiful face, I hardened my heart and decided to keep him. I kept him for five years. However, he continually delayed signing a formal Master-Servant contract with me. I always thought it was because Elias wasn’t ready. I never expected that I wasn’t his only Master. Walking past a private VIP room at the club where I worked, I saw a familiar silhouette. My footsteps faltered as someone inside spoke. “Haven’t you had enough fun yet? The Master is coming back soon. Make sure you get rid of her before then.” Elias pulled a cigarette from a pack and replied lazily. “She treats me pretty well, she’s just too poor.” “The apartment she rents is tiny, like a birdcage, and the soundproofing is garbage. I can never get a good night’s sleep; it’s so annoying.” “Sometimes in the middle of the night, you can literally hear the neighbors going at it.” Hearing that incredibly familiar voice, I froze in place. I stared at him in absolute disbelief. Shouldn’t he be at home? Why was he here…? I couldn’t help but stop, desperate to see clearly if the man inside was actually Elias. After some teasing laughter, someone mocked. “What kind of romance can poor people possibly offer?” “Does she know that the single bottle of wine you just ordered costs $230,000?” “If you really can’t bear to let her go, just keep her as a secret pet on the side.” “These poor girls are easy to break.” A quick rebuttal followed. “How is that possible? Are you saying Elias actually caught feelings?” “Man, you don’t even know. That woman works herself to death day and night just to buy him a $2,300 injection, and Elias doesn’t feel a shred of pity for her.” “Besides, it was always just a game anyway. Hahahaha, poor people are so incredibly cheap. Just feed them a few lies and they hand over their entire heart.” “Right, Elias?” My grip on the serving tray tightened violently. My entire body went rigid. It was him. “Yeah.” Elias gave a muffled, indifferent agreement. “The Master is flying back in half a month. Give it another seven days. Seven days is plenty of time to get rid of her.” “What if she clings to you? I mean, you spent so much of her money. Poor people will literally fight to the death over money.” “Does she have the ability to cling?” Elias’s voice suddenly turned freezing cold. “I’ll just throw some cash at her to make her go away.” “Don’t worry, Mia is very obedient to me. She won’t make a scene; she’ll just cry.” “If she really refuses to listen, I’ll just pull a disappearing act.” The laughter inside morphed into flying daggers, stabbing directly into my heart. The pain was so intense that tears streamed down my face. So, Elias was never a stray Incubus. He had a Master, and his Master was incredibly wealthy. These past five years with me were nothing more than a game to cure his boredom. It wouldn’t be long before he abandoned me. That night of “salvation” in the pouring rain had ultimately just been my own delusional fantasy. I desperately wanted to storm in and confront Elias. To demand why he lied to me. But the moment he turned his head toward the door, I turned and fled. 2. It was midnight by the time I got home. The second I opened the door, Elias’s clear, bright voice called out. “You’re home?” He was wearing a strawberry-print apron, walking out of the kitchen, his hands still wet from washing. “Late-night snack will be ready in a minute! I made your favorite spicy noodle soup, with extra lettuce.” I forced a stiff smile and gave a soft “Mm.” After changing into my pajamas, I sat at the dining table, my mind a chaotic mess. In this world, an Incubus holds a very low status, equivalent to a human’s pet. They can be kept in captivity, beaten or killed on a whim, or even served as food on a dining table. When I first took Elias in, I was still a student. My roommates couldn’t understand why I would want to keep an Incubus. “Incubi are dark, degraded creatures. Their brains are only wired for lust and manipulation; they don’t understand actual love.” “Mia, haven’t you watched the news? So many pet Incubi secretly run away, and the brutal ones even eat their Masters alive. You’re inviting a wolf into your home.” “You should just sell him quickly. An Incubus in rut tastes better and sells for a much higher price.” I didn’t listen to a single word they said. Instead, I used my meager allowance to rent a basement apartment for him to live in. They didn’t understand. I was an orphan. I desperately craved a family. I craved companionship. Thinking of Elias’s gentle, obedient smile, I felt that keeping him for the rest of my life would be a wonderful thing. At the very least, he belonged to me. I didn’t care about his low status; in fact, it made me feel safer. He was an Incubus. We could form a contract. Once I became his Master, he would stay by my side forever. That dark, damp basement became the only thing I looked forward to during that time in my life. Later, when I secured a stable job, Elias and I moved out of the basement. We currently rented a standard one-bedroom apartment. On the 18th floor. It was small, but it was incredibly cozy. We lived a very ordinary, but very happy life. Except… the place I considered our home was nothing but a “birdcage” to Elias. And all the tenderness and love he showed me was completely fake. “Here it is! Here it is!” Elias was beaming as he brought over the spicy noodle soup. He plopped down in the chair across from me, resting his chin on his hands, blinking his large, beautiful eyes at me. Every night when I got off work, he would cook me a late-night snack and keep me company while I ate. This was usually the most relaxing and joyful part of my day. But today, every second felt like agonizing torture. The table fell silent. Elias spoke softly. “Mia, I feel like… we might not be a good match…” I knew exactly what Elias was going to say next. Perhaps clinging to the very last shred of my dignity, I cut him off. “You want to break up, right?” “Okay.” He looked slightly stunned and asked, “How did you know?” I looked at his face, bitter tears involuntarily slipping from the corners of my eyes. “Stop pretending, Elias. Is lying to me really that fun?” I opened my bag, pulled out a thick stack of printed documents, and slammed them onto the table. After discovering he was lying to me, I spent every last cent of my savings to hire an investigator to dig into Elias’s background. When the file was sent to me, I finally learned that the gentle, considerate man who had been by my side for five years was actually the contracted Incubus of Chloe, a prodigious teenage pianist. They had attended a high-society gala together. Amidst the clinking glasses and flashing lights, Elias’s eyes were entirely focused on the radiant young girl, his expression filled with absolute tenderness and adoration. “Elias, you lied to me for five whole years.” “You played the pathetic victim in front of me, telling me you were persecuted, abandoned, and chased away. But in reality, you already had a Master. You lived a life of absolute luxury. You never actually suffered at all, did you? Everything you told me was a complete fabrication!” “What an incredible performance… For five years, I didn’t notice a single flaw!” Elias’s expression shattered into pure panic. Under the massive emotional surge, he lost control of his human form; his pointed ears, wings, and tail suddenly materialized. My eyes were bloodshot as I stared at him with pure hatred. “The rut-suppressant injections cost $2,300 each. Every single month, I worked myself half to death just to earn enough money to buy them for you. And you? How did that $230,000 bottle of wine taste?!” “Elias! You played me for an absolute fool! Was it fun?!” I violently stood up and flipped the dining table. The spicy noodle soup crashed to the floor, the pungent smell instantly filling the room. Elias fell silent. His face was unreadable, but his thick, fleshy tail twitched anxiously behind him. “You know everything?” “…I’ll pay you back double for all the money you spent over the years, I…” “No need.” I raised my hand and violently swatted his tail away, my voice dripping with absolute disgust. “Taking money from a degraded creature like you makes me physically sick.” “Elias, my roommates were absolutely right. All Incubi are nothing but calculating, degraded creatures. You don’t have hearts! And you will never understand love.” “If I had known, I should have sold you the very first time I laid eyes on you.” Elias’s face instantly drained of all color. He swayed on his feet, looking like he was about to collapse. I grabbed my bag from the chair, opened the front door, and walked out. After leaving, I had no idea where to go. I wandered aimlessly along the side of the road. The winter night was freezing. Eventually, I just found a random 24-hour karaoke place. I sang, I cried, and I drank, aggressively purging all my emotions. When I was too exhausted to cry anymore, I just lay down on the sofa and slept. 3. At 5 AM the next day, the karaoke place closed. I wrapped my heavy coat tightly around myself and left. After thinking it over, I decided to go back to the apartment. Aside from that rental, I truly had nowhere else to go. Besides, I was the one who signed the lease and paid the rent. Why should I be the one to leave? If anyone was leaving, it should be Elias. On the walk back, I noticed someone had sent me over twenty consecutive text messages. I opened the chat. It was a DNA paternity test report. A while ago, a group of very intense people had tracked me down, claiming I might be the long-lost daughter of the billionaire Arthur Sterling, and demanding I go to the hospital with them for a DNA test. Terrified it was some elaborate new human trafficking scheme, I firmly refused. But Arthur’s head butler, Mr. Thorne, was incredibly persistent. He had medical staff stake out my apartment building for a very long time. Eventually, just to get them to leave me alone, I gave them a saliva swab, a nail clipping, and a few hair follicles. And now… it was actually true. Mr. Thorne immediately offered to come pick me up and take me home. I paused for a moment. “Give me three days. I have some things I need to take care of first.” The situation with Elias wasn’t fully resolved yet. I am someone who draws very clear lines between love and hate. If it started clearly, it needs to end decisively. I still owed Elias one final, definitive goodbye. After today. He will go back to being a rich girl’s pet. And I will go live my life as a billionaire heiress. After this parting, our paths will never cross again in this lifetime. 4. I didn’t even make it back up to the apartment. In the courtyard of the complex, I ran straight into Elias. He was following closely behind a woman, desperately whining and apologizing. “Master… I was wrong, Master. You were abroad for so long, and I was so bored, I just wanted to find a cheap distraction to play with for a bit…” “Please don’t ignore me. I know I made a mistake. But don’t worry, she didn’t taint me. You are the only Master in my heart…” My heart felt like it was pierced by needles. Taint? Elias actually used that word to describe me. I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms, and forced myself to keep walking forward as if nothing was wrong. As we brushed past each other, the woman with the red lips and voluminous, wavy hair tilted her head and glanced at me. “Stop.” She called out to me. “Are you the woman who took care of Elias’s rut cycles?” “Rolling around with an Incubus… doesn’t that make you feel degraded? You have terrible taste.” Elias’s face went completely pale. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and turned around to face her. But before I could speak, she slapped me hard across the face. “Ah—” A short, sharp cry escaped my lips before my right cheek started burning and throbbing. I looked up in absolute disbelief. “Why did you hit me?!” Chloe glared at me, her eyes vicious and ruthless. “I hit you because you deserve it. Did you not know he is MY Incubus?” “You dare touch my property? Do you have a death wish?” I couldn’t hold back my retort. “How was I supposed to know he had a Master?!” “That’s a lie!” Elias suddenly shouted loudly. “Master, it was all her fault! She seduced me! You know how it is… my status is so low, no one ever looks twice at me.” “I never intended to betray you, Master! I told her from the very beginning, but she was easy and only cared about pleasure, and I was temporarily blinded by her…” “That was a great slap, Master. Does your hand hurt? Let me blow on it for you.” My mind went completely blank. I stared fixedly at Elias. That face, which had been so incredibly familiar to me, suddenly looked like a complete stranger’s. He seemed terrified of Chloe. His entire body was trembling. Suddenly, Elias looked at me with pleading eyes and gave a microscopic shake of his head. I understood exactly what he meant. I lowered my eyes and stood up straight. I said coldly, “Elias, we are completely done.” With that, I turned and walked away, my steps growing faster and faster as the tears finally began to fall. The sorrow hit me like a massive tidal wave, dragging me down into an endless, suffocating darkness. If I hadn’t experienced these events firsthand, I never would have believed that the boyfriend I had shared a bed with for five years possessed an entirely different, horrific persona. All the sweetness and happiness of the past had mutated into sharp blades, violently slicing into my heart. It turns out that love can be entirely fabricated. And acted out with terrifying realism. I was such an idiot. I believed Elias’s lies so easily. When I finally got back to the apartment, I sat numbly on the edge of the bed, staring blankly out the window. Allowing myself to be completely consumed by the grief. 5. Mr. Thorne arrived exactly on schedule. Outside the gates of the apartment complex, a massive, understated but incredibly luxurious black Rolls-Royce was parked by the curb. Standing next to the car was a middle-aged man wearing a traditional, pale blue tunic, his face radiating an elegant, scholarly aura. The moment he saw me, his eyes turned completely red, and his hands trembled as he reached out to me. A strong scent of sandalwood washed over me, and then I was pulled into his arms, my cheek pressed tightly against his chest. A bizarre, unfamiliar feeling bloomed inside me. Is this… what having a father feels like? For the entire drive, I kept sneaking glances at him, unable to believe that the father figure I had been missing for over twenty years had suddenly, miraculously materialized. The wealth of the Sterling family was far beyond anything I could have ever imagined. The opulently decorated, gilded mansion felt like stepping into an actual royal palace. Sunlight streamed through the intricate carved-wood window frames, illuminating the priceless rugs. Every step felt like walking on clouds. For the next few hours, my father personally gave me a grand tour to help me get acquainted with the estate. After two whole hours, we had only managed to cover a small fraction of the Sterling manor. Mr. Thorne escorted me back to my new bedroom. “Miss, please make yourself completely at home. This will be your home from now on.” I nodded absently, feeling incredibly light and completely detached from reality. Shortly after, he had a massive pile of brand new electronic devices delivered to my room. I picked out a phone that felt comfortable in my hand and inserted my old SIM card. The moment the phone booted up, a call came through. “Hello?” “Mia, I accidentally took your ID card when I left.” Hearing Elias’s voice, my expression instantly darkened. After a two-second pause, he continued. “It must be really inconvenient not having your ID, right? When do you want to come get it?” Incubi in this world aren’t issued government ID cards, so Elias was always fascinated by mine. He liked to keep it in his wallet, carrying it with him everywhere, and would often pull it out just to play with it when he was bored. I thought it was just a cute, weird way of showing he loved me, so I let him. But now that we were broken up, him keeping it was entirely inappropriate. “Keep it. You can just throw it in the trash. I’ll go get a replacement.” “I can bring it to you.” Elias said softly. “Mia… the other day, I really didn’t have a choice. You know my life and death are entirely in her hands.” “When we got back, she whipped me thirty times. It hurts so much. My back is completely shredded and covered in blood. Mia~ please, have a little pity on me.” I closed my eyes tightly. What exactly did Elias mean by ‘have a little pity’ on him? It meant exploiting my endless capacity for forgiveness. It meant exploiting the grueling, backbreaking labor I endured to buy him those injections every single month. It meant exploiting the fact that for all those years, I lived as frugally as possible just to give him the absolute best of everything. And what did I get in return? I was stripped of my money, my heart, and my dignity. I must look like an absolute clown. My emotions boiled over. Suppressing the raging storm in my chest, I delivered my most venomous response. “Then why didn’t she just beat you to death?” “What right does a disloyal, lying, manipulative Incubus like you have to even exist in this world? You deserve every single lash.” “Elias, you make me physically sick.” I cursed him with the most vicious, hateful words I could find. The other end of the line went dead silent. After a very long pause, he finally asked, his voice raw and hoarse: “Do you really hate me that much?” “Hate you? Of course I hate you. I wish you were dead.” “Do not ever show your face in front of me again. If you do, I won’t be able to stop myself from slapping you.” With that, I hung up the phone and blocked his number entirely.

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On the day of our engagement dinner, my fiancé eloped with his college junior hand-in-hand in front of New York’s elite, leaving me and our parents to clean up the mess in the ballroom. Later, my fiancé was stripped of his inheritance and got his wish to marry his poor junior, living the life of “freedom” he claimed to have chosen. It wasn’t until six years later, when I returned to New York from Europe, that I ran into him running a street stall outside an elite prep school, with three kids in tow. 1 When I saw Carter again, he was standing outside an expensive Upper East Side prep school, pushing a small cart selling handmade knit toys. As school dismissal approached, the street outside the elite private school was lined with Cadillacs and Range Rovers. He knocked on car windows one by one, pushing his knitted flowers and dolls, a sleeping baby nestled in a carrier on his chest. I sat in the backseat of my Lincoln Navigator going over documents. The driver, an old hand from the Sterling family, recognized the haggard, weather-beaten middle-aged man almost immediately. It was my childhood sweetheart, Carter Blackwood. Carter didn’t recognize the driver. He just focused on shoving a knitted doll toward the car window, pitching desperately, “Sir, please buy one for your child. It’s completely handmade. My kids have loved them since they were little.” The familiar voice made me look up from my tablet, meeting Carter’s obsequious expression. The next second, it was as if someone had grabbed him by the throat. His sales pitch stopped abruptly, his face contorting into an awkward, humiliating grimace. We stared at each other for a moment. Just as he opened his mouth to say something, I calmly returned my gaze to my tablet. The driver, taking the hint, immediately rolled up the partition, cutting off Carter and whatever words he couldn’t get out in time. That night, I was working in the study of my penthouse when my mother knocked and came in for a chat. Unnaturally, she steered the conversation toward Carter. “Serena, I heard from the driver that you ran into Carter today?” I nodded. My mother looked hesitant, taking a long moment before probing cautiously, “Mom heard he’s married and already has a few kids. You…” Hearing this, I chuckled and explained, “Mom, I’m not avoiding dating because of him. I’m just focused on work right now. This lifestyle really isn’t suited for a relationship.” Mom visibly sighed in relief, then playfully scolded, “You and your father are exactly the same when you were young. You only have eyes for work. Your sister is already married, and you haven’t even settled down!” I smiled and coaxed her to go to bed. Returning to the study, I received a text from my old friend Nate. It was a screenshot of his messages with Carter. Carter: “Do you have Serena’s contact info? I need to talk to her about something.” Nate: “I heard he’s been asking everyone he can. Do you think he wants to get back together with you?” I thought about it and replied: “Not talking to him. If he needs something, he can go to the lobby of the Sterling Building and go through the visitor appointment process.” The second time I saw Carter was in front of my company. Haley was with him. Ignoring the stares and whispers of the Wall Street white-collar workers around them, she dragged Carter toward the Sterling Group building, muttering non-stop: “She’s your old flame! Go talk to her and reminisce about the good old days. Worst case scenario, you sleep with her and she gives us a decent job. It’s a great deal!” Carter resisted with his entire body. “Haley, stop dreaming! I’m not going in there!” Haley turned around and slapped him across the face, pointing at his nose and cursing, “I have never seen such a pathetic man! Stop pretending to be so noble! If I hadn’t gotten with you, would I have ended up in this state?! You deserve this!” Haley’s face was twisted in rage, screaming like a drunk on the streets of Brooklyn. She was nothing like the gentle, obedient junior who had once looked up to Carter in my memory. The once-noble heir of an old money family now stood with a swollen cheek, his head bowed, refusing to move an inch, until NYPD officers arrived and took them both away. Only then did he notice me standing securely behind my security detail. He shuddered, lowering his head to dodge my gaze. Was this the love he was willing to throw everything away for? How laughable. I remembered when we were kids at our Hampton summer estate, my mother would read us bedtime stories. The stories always ended with the protagonists living happily ever after. Back then, Carter would say, “Serena and I will be together forever too.” My mother smiled. “Forever means a whole lifetime. Do you know how long a lifetime is?” Carter was stumped. My mother smiled, rubbing our heads. “A lifetime is very long. It takes your whole life to measure it.” Though we didn’t understand the length of a lifetime back then, Carter stubbornly insisted we would be together forever. 2 As we entered our teenage years, Carter stopped talking about marriage all the time, but he still stubbornly wrote in every wishing well and yearbook: “Serena and Carter will be together forever.” Carter was outgoing and got along with everyone at our prep school. I was a late bloomer, and going through his growth spurt, he easily surpassed me in height. Classmates often joked that I was Carter’s “little trophy wife.” Carter didn’t say anything outwardly, but he was secretly anxious. Every lunch period, he would overfeed me, and behind my back, he even hired a Manhattan private doctor to create a detailed workout plan for me. At the time, he would even mutter in his sleep, “Serena, grow taller, grow taller. That way you can wear flats to the senior prom and your feet won’t hurt!” Our freshman year of high school, we weren’t placed in the same AP class. Carter wanted his parents to donate to the board of directors to change his class, but I sternly refused. “Carter, no special privileges,” I said. “It’s just the classroom next door.” Carter looked at me in disappointment, seemingly devastated. We then embarked on a 72-hour cold war. Truth be told, I regretted it on the first day of the class split. Without Carter by my side, I couldn’t get used to it at all. After school, I wanted to apologize, but Carter just glanced at me and sprinted toward the Blackwood family’s Cadillac, not even leaving me exhaust fumes to choke on. After being ignored for three days, I finally climbed into his car before the driver could take off. Carter yelled at me, “What are you doing, what are you doing? Is this your car, why are you getting in?!” I turned a deaf ear and pulled a knitted yarn rose out of my designer bag, holding it out to him. “I was wrong,” I said earnestly. “I need special privileges. I can’t survive in that class without you!” Carter scrunched up his face, feigning seriousness. “You think a fake flower will buy me off? Serena, do I not deserve a real flower?!” I scratched my head. “I tried to pick a rose from my mom’s estate garden yesterday but got caught. She said using someone else’s flowers isn’t sincere, so she taught me how to knit one with yarn. I knitted it all night. Do you not like it?” Carter suddenly burst out laughing. “You’re so dumb, Serena. Mr. Sterling planted those flowers himself, and Mrs. Sterling couldn’t bear to let you ruin them, that’s why she said that! But I like the yarn rose too. You’re forgiven.” Haley was Carter’s junior in college, and a subordinate on his fraternity’s event committee. The first time I met her was in the campus café. I had just returned to the Ivy League after a one-year exchange at the London School of Economics, and Carter’s attitude toward me had grown much colder. When I talked about Europe, he showed little interest. When I brought out his souvenir, it only earned a perfunctory smile. I was never a talkative person, and after my topics were bluntly shut down a few times, we fell into silence. That is, until a pair of hands reached out from behind Carter and covered his eyes. “Guess who~” Half of Carter’s face was covered, but it was obvious his expression came alive. He smiled and dragged out his words, “Hmm—who could it be—this is so hard to guess~” The girl let go, leaning over to his face. “Senior, it’s me!” Carter smiled and pinched her cheek. They playfully roughhoused right in front of me, entirely oblivious to my presence. Their behavior was much more intimate than ours, the actual couple. I cleared my throat lightly. It was as if they finally realized I was there. Carter quickly established a safe distance and introduced us: “Serena, this is Haley, a member of my committee and my junior.” “Haley, this is Serena, she spent the last year on an exchange in London and just got back. She’s my… girlfriend.” His expression remained unchanged, but the word “girlfriend” clearly felt a little awkward on his tongue. I glanced at him without saying much, simply nodding at Haley in greeting. Haley exaggeratedly said, “I’ve heard so much about you,” but her eyes were filled with hostility. Our subsequent date plans were interrupted by sudden student committee work. Carter left with Haley. I watched them walk away, their distance closing in. The little interactions—her hitting him, him poking her—looked intimately flawless. Carter and I hadn’t had childish interactions like that in a long time. When we walked together, we didn’t talk much, and when we did, it was about Wall Street internships or family business. That was when I realized I prided myself on knowing Carter best, but when he and Haley talked about console games, pop music, and Marvel movies, I discovered I actually knew very little about him. I started to reflect, realizing I was too used to having him around and had ignored his changes. I needed to spend time understanding the real him. I’m the type to speak my mind. After mentally drafting my thoughts, I went to his frat house that night to find him. When he saw me, he had a smile on his face. “What’s wrong?” I took his hand and said earnestly, “I’m sorry, Carter. I’ve been a terrible girlfriend.” I poured out all my afternoon reflections. Carter was confused at first, but his expression gradually softened. After patiently listening to me, he chuckled. 3 “Serena, you’re so funny,” he said. “You have no idea how touched I am to hear this. Don’t worry, you are already the best girlfriend in the world.” “I was just a little unaccustomed to seeing you today after so long. I’m not mad at you, don’t overthink it.” He pulled me into a hug, looking down at me tenderly. “Haley and I are just friends. If you think we’re too close, I’ll pay more attention from now on.” “Haley comes from a poor background. It wasn’t easy for her to make it from a small southern town to the Ivy League, so I look out for her a bit more. There’s nothing else to it.” “I love you the most. I’ve been waiting to marry you since we were kids~” … While doing a walkthrough of a mall owned by our family on Fifth Avenue, I was stopped by Haley. She greeted me from a distance, acting as familiar as an old friend. “Serena! Long time no see! Remember me?” Her smile was ingratiating, clearly intending to close the distance and cozy up to me. My security detail quickly blocked her, and my assistant spoke up appropriately: “Apologies, this is Director Sterling’s working hour. She is not accepting non-business interactions.” Haley’s face showed a flash of embarrassment before she laughed dismissively. “Come on, Serena and I go way back. For Carter’s sake, I’m sure she can spare a minute to chat.” I raised an eyebrow. “For whose sake?” Haley immediately took two eager steps forward, only to be blocked by the bodyguards again. She hinted, “Carter, remember? Speaking of which, it’s been a long time since you two saw each other. Why don’t we all catch up?” I sneered at her words. “Of course I remember. Isn’t he your husband? Your beautiful love story was the talk of New York.” “No need to catch up. We aren’t close, and I have absolutely no interest in learning about other people’s marriages.” I glanced at Haley, who was heavily guarded, and mocked, “You should probably keep your distance from me in the future. After all, getting pinned to the ground doesn’t feel great, does it?” Six years ago, after Carter and I reconciled, he actively distanced himself from Haley. Haley had waited for me on my route home to our Long Island estate, just like this. Carter’s birthday was approaching. To clear my schedule to prepare for it, I was running myself ragged between my studies and my internship at the family business. I was incredibly busy, and my mood wasn’t exactly stable. Somehow, Haley managed to bypass the security system of our gated community. She blocked my car and launched into a tirade against my dark expression: “Don’t you think you’re overstepping your bounds? Is Carter not allowed to have female friends?” “Or do you secretly feel you’re not good enough for him, and you’re terrified that once he meets more people, he’ll dump you?” I scoffed. “I’m not good enough for him? Then who is? You?” I looked her up and down with a judging eye. Haley wasn’t angry; instead, she spoke with self-righteous conviction: “You just got lucky being born into a family with trust funds! If I were in your position, I would do way better than you!” “I may not have an old money background, but I have my own two hands. I’ll carve out my own place on Wall Street through sheer hard work.” “Trust fund babies like you, wrapped up in your parents’ pedigree—someday, I’ll step all over you!” I laughed at the sheer absurdity of her speech. Realizing the person in front of me was just an extreme, wealthy-hating clown, I turned to leave. But she relentlessly lunged at me. Then, she was pinned to the ground by my personal bodyguard, who had no concept of being gentle with women. The disparity in strength and size made her cry out in pain. At that moment, Carter’s furious voice rang out: “Serena! What are you doing?!” I turned toward the voice, taking the full brunt of his questioning and anger. He stormed over, pushed the bodyguard away, and helped Haley up, glaring at me. “Serena, when did you learn to act like a vicious Manhattan heiress?! Do you think you can just assault normal people?!” I suppressed my displeasure and explained patiently, “I didn’t. She charged at me first…” “Stop making excuses!” Carter cut me off. “I never knew you were the kind of person to bully the weak. Serena, I am so disappointed in you.” With that, he refused to look at me, helping Haley into his Porsche and driving away. I stood there in silence for a long time, suddenly feeling exhausted. The next day, Carter came to apologize. He said his words were too harsh yesterday, but he was just blinded by panic. That was the first time I asked him, “Carter, do you really still want to be with me?” 4 Carter froze, then firmly stated he wanted to be with me forever. “Serena, my wish has never changed. I’ve made things clear with Haley. She won’t bother you again.” I nodded, silently turning the page on the incident. Carter’s birthday soon arrived. I had rented out his favorite Michelin-starred restaurant and bought premium tickets to the hottest Broadway show. I even changed my car radio to his favorite country music station. But when the day actually came, Carter kept spacing out. When I went to his house that morning, he had just woken up and was eating brunch in his loungewear. He looked surprised to see me, and only remembered what day it was when he saw the flowers in my hands. “I’m sorry!” He clasped his hands together, bowing his head. “Blame me for staying up too late watching Twitch streams last night!” I smiled and sat beside him, saying it was fine. It was his birthday, everything would go at his pace. While he went to wash up, the butler served me an espresso and smiled. “Miss Serena, it’s so kind of you to stay up late watching streams with the young master last night and still wake up on time today. You must be tired.” I froze. I wanted to say I had gone to bed early to prepare for today’s date, but I didn’t want to cause any drama on his birthday. But it felt strange. When Carter finished getting ready, I asked him: “Did you watch the stream alone last night?” Carter paused, then smiled. “I was on a Discord call with my frat brothers. It wasn’t the kind of game you like, so I didn’t invite you.” I nodded. “Any kind is fine. I just wanted to keep you company.” Carter ruffled my hair, smiling sweetly. “Aww, our Miss Serena is so clingy. I know, I’ll definitely invite you next time!” In the car, Carter kept his head down, smiling brightly as he texted someone on iMessage. I asked him, “Who are you texting?” Carter didn’t answer, so I patiently repeated myself. Without looking up, he said, “My friends. They’re wishing me a happy birthday. It’d be rude not to reply.” I gave a soft “mm,” but from the corner of my eye, I saw he had been on the same chat thread for a long time. He was talking to one person. I comforted myself, telling myself not to overthink it, but Haley’s face and their intimate interactions from our first meeting kept popping into my head. I suppressed my churning emotions, telling myself over and over that today was his birthday, our anniversary. His happiness was what mattered most. When we got out of the car, I took the initiative to hold his hand. He startled, put his phone in his pocket, and started focusing on our date. Usually, our dates consisted of browsing luxury boutiques or attending Sotheby’s auctions. This time, based on what I had learned about his hobbies, we stepped into a Dave & Buster’s for the first time. Carter was pleasantly surprised. He dragged me from the very first arcade game at the entrance all the way to the back. I could tell he was genuinely happy, which made me feel satisfied. We used our combined arcade tickets to redeem a life-sized teddy bear. Carter loved it. The date went smoothly. Aside from Carter pulling out his phone to text whenever he had a free second—which kept me on edge—at least he was happy. After dinner, I was just about to pull out the Broadway tickets when Carter received a call. He looked anxious and said there was an emergency with the campus mixer event that he had to handle immediately. His anxious expression didn’t look fake, so I drove him back to campus. He got out of the car and hurried toward the frat house, but then suddenly turned back and knocked on the window. I rolled down the window. He leaned in, kissed me quickly, and said, “Serena, I had a really great time today. Thank you.” In that moment, my heart felt like hydrogen mixing with air and catching fire—a violent, beautiful explosion. I drove away from campus in high spirits, but then I noticed the lonely teddy bear in the back seat. After thinking it over, I decided to wait for Carter at the campus gates. It was our anniversary, after all; I wanted to spend it together until the very last second. So I waited in the car until midnight. What I waited for was the sight of Carter and Haley walking out of the campus gates side by side. They were walking incredibly close. Although they weren’t holding hands, on a wide, empty street, they would subconsciously bump into each other. It was like a flirtatious test, tugging at both their nerves. I suddenly remembered how, back in our high school classroom, we used to sit shoulder-to-shoulder, heads bent close together, pretending to discuss an SAT question, when in reality, we were testing the boundaries between us. I finally understood where the strange feeling in my gut came from. It was familiar. Because we used to have that same flirtatious tension. I got out of the car, pulled the teddy bear from the back seat, and threw it in front of them. The two people, completely absorbed in their own world, finally noticed my presence. Carter’s lingering smile froze on his face. Panic flashed in his eyes as he instinctively stepped away from Haley. “Serena…” he started, but nothing followed.

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Three days after I ran away from our arranged marriage, my fiancé committed suicide in our bridal suite. He left his entire estate to me. While packing up his belongings, I found a room with walls completely covered in photos of me, and the floor stained with mottled spots of his blood. His assistant told me, “Mr. Hayes loved you for many years.” “His depression was incredibly severe. Only by looking at you, by thinking of you, could he find a fleeting moment of peace…” Every single detail was shocking, suffocating, yet inexplicably heartbreaking. So, when given a second chance, as my childhood best friend urged me to flee the country, I smiled and refused. “I’m not leaving.” I wanted to see just how foolish this man—who loved me more than his own life—truly was. 1 Carter Hayes died on the third day after I ran away from our wedding. My father and brother had just walked out of his sprawling estate, faces full of apologetic excuses for my disappearance, when they received the news: Carter had slit his wrists. Resuscitation failed. He was dead. In a will drafted long before the wedding, he left every cent of his fortune to me. Halfway across the world in a villa in Tuscany, my expression slowly froze as I listened to my brother’s voice through the phone. In my eyes, Carter was just a ruthless corporate shark who had suddenly shown up at my family’s door, strong-arming us into an arranged marriage. We were total strangers. Yet, piece by piece, the aftermath made it seem as though he had been deeply, desperately in love with me for years. 2 At the request of his lawyers, I rushed back to the States. My hands were stiff as I accepted Carter’s urn. His background had always been a mystery; he had no living relatives to speak of. His assistant stared mournfully at the heavy square box and spoke to me in a hushed voice. “Mr. Hayes loved you for a very long time. “His depression was severe. The only thing that kept him tethered to this earth was you. “I thought that once he finally married you, the darkness would lift. I never imagined…” His voice broke. There was no blame in his tone, but my heart twisted painfully in my chest. The assistant handed me a key. “This is the estate Mr. Hayes prepared for you. “He designed the master suite himself.” The place where he took his own life. 3 The estate was massive. Beyond the manicured emerald lawns, there was even a private equestrian paddock. The interior was decorated in my absolute favorite shade of sapphire blue. The furniture, the artwork, the layout—every single detail catered perfectly to my tastes. Deep inside, there was a locked room. When I opened it, I found the walls plastered with my photos. I looked closely. They spanned from my sophomore year of college all the way to the present. Almost every moment of my life had been captured by this man’s lenses. On the hardwood floor lay the mottled, dark stains of his blood, carrying a faint, metallic scent. It was terrifying and suffocating, yet I felt an overwhelming wave of sorrow. And then, I felt a spark of anger. If he loved me, why didn’t he just say so? He barged into my family’s home like a tyrant, demanding a corporate marriage. How could I have ever felt safe marrying a man like that? And now, leaving behind this horrific scene… did he want me to be drowned in guilt, forced to remember him for the rest of my life? Keep dreaming, I thought. I donated his entire inheritance to charity, including the estate. The cleaning crew tore my photos off the walls, tossing them onto the bloodstained floor… And just like that, the brief, legendary life of Carter Hayes was entirely erased from the world. 4 It took me three days to accept the fact that I had been reborn. Three days ago, Carter had just arrived at my family’s home in Chicago, demanding an alliance through marriage. His methods were practically extortion. My childhood best friend, Ethan, heard the news and immediately told me to run. He offered to hide me in Europe until the dust settled. In my past life, that was exactly what I did. But in this life, remembering that wall of photos and the horrifying pool of blood, I calmly shook my head. “I’m not leaving,” I said. “I’m going to go find him and ask him exactly why he wants to marry me.” 5 Carter’s tech empire was massive. When I arrived at his headquarters, he was still in a board meeting. His assistant personally came down to the lobby to escort me up, asking me to wait in his private office. “The boss will be right down.” I gave a soft, “Mhm.” Carter arrived almost instantly. Before I could even finish my cup of coffee, he strode in, his steps hurried as he absentmindedly fastened a loose cufflink. The moment he saw me, his footsteps halted. “Ms. Sterling,” he greeted, his voice perfectly even. His face was cold and distant, as if looking at a complete stranger. His icy demeanor left me speechless. I thought for a moment before asking softly: “Mr. Hayes, my father tells me you want to marry me. Why?” “I wanted to, so I did. I don’t need a reason.” Me: “…” How was I supposed to respond to that? I slowly stood up and grabbed my purse. “Then I’ll be going.” Carter’s expression cracked. A rare flash of panic crossed his face. “You’re leaving already?” I stared at him blankly. Under my gaze, the color slowly drained from his face, and a heavy shroud of self-loathing seemed to settle over his shoulders. Yet, he still forced himself to step aside to let me pass. If I didn’t already know for a fact that this man was obsessed with me, I would have thought he was playing a cruel joke on me… I let out a soft sigh, stepping forward and gently grabbing his sleeve. “How about we grab dinner together?” 6 The dynamic between Carter and me clearly terrified his assistant. As I was leaving, the assistant kept apologizing. “The boss isn’t very good at talking to women. Please don’t be angry with him, Ms. Sterling.” “I’m not angry.” I offered him a bright smile. “Actually, I quite like him… his face is exactly my type.” The office door wasn’t fully closed. Through the crack, I clearly saw Carter touch his own face, utterly stunned. I chuckled softly and told the assistant: “I’m having dinner with your boss tonight. Remind him not to stand me up.” The assistant nodded frantically, as if terrified I would take it back. I walked out of the corporate tower in my heels. The moment I stepped outside, my phone rang. Seeing the name Ethan Brooks on the screen, I calmly hit ‘Decline’ and stared blankly at the clouds drifting overhead. 7 Ethan treated me well, and he genuinely cared about my well-being. But whether it was a childhood friend or a casual buddy, they would eventually fade into the long, winding road of life. Just like in my past life. He eventually found a woman he loved, had a child, and learned to keep his distance from me. In the end, when I was trapped in the mountains with an expedition team and called him for help, his wife answered the phone. She mocked me relentlessly, calling me a pathetic, aging spinster who couldn’t find a husband. While she hurled insults at me, Ethan was right beside her, completely silent. I died on that mountain. I never knew how he felt about it. 8 Carter arrived incredibly early for dinner. The atmosphere at the table was frigid. I tried my hardest to carry the conversation, but he was like a conversation-ending machine, showing zero enthusiasm for anything I brought up. Exhausted, I set my knife and fork down heavily on the table. “Mr. Hayes, the way you’re acting makes me feel like you have zero interest in starting a family with me.” Carter’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He lowered his head. “I’m sorry.” “You know that’s not what I want to hear.” I was genuinely frustrated now. “You’ve run a massive corporation for years. You’ve practically never lost a negotiation, and your insight into human nature is flawless. Yet here you are, acting like this… “It makes me feel like you don’t care about me at all.” Carter’s face went deadly pale. His fingertips dug so hard into his palms that faint traces of blood began to seep through his skin. “Please don’t overthink it,” he said, his voice strained. “I just… I’ve never been this close to you before. I’m not used to it.” His sudden, almost confessional words caught me completely off guard. His nervousness, his profound loneliness, and the blood on his palms—none of it was fake. I suddenly remembered what his assistant had told me in my past life: “His depression was severe. Only by looking at you could he find a fleeting moment of peace…” “Mr. Hayes.” Suddenly deeply curious, I looked him in the eye. “Did we know each other before all this?” 9 Carter’s thin lips trembled. His eyes instantly darted away, fixing on the glass window of the restaurant. “Yes.” “When?” I pressed, but Carter clamped his mouth shut. No matter what I asked, he refused to say another word. Feeling a bit defeated, I lost my enthusiasm and focused on my steak, abandoning the conversation. Carter stayed silent too, seemingly unaware that the atmosphere had turned sour. He just stared blankly at my lips and my neck. His gaze followed the path of the red wine down my throat, then froze, restrained by his own strict manners. I shot him a glare. He panicked and turned his head away so fast he bit his own lip. A bead of bright red blood welled up. I sighed. “If you want to look at me, just look. Stop sneaking glances. “We’re getting married soon, Carter. Can you please just do things out in the open?” He had taken thousands of photos of me, hired people to watch me, and probably bribed my family’s maid… If he hadn’t died so tragically in my past life, I would have called the cops and had him arrested for stalking. But his assistant had told me the truth. Carter was sick. When dealing with someone who is ill, you have to be patient. I reached across the table and grabbed his hand. Ignoring his instantaneous, rigid shock, I dipped a napkin in my water glass and gently wiped the blood from his palm. “Your hands are too handsome to be ruined like this. Stop digging your nails in, okay?” Carter didn’t answer. He just stared at my face. After a long, agonizing silence, he asked in a low whisper: “Are you… willing to marry me now?” “Did you ever give me a choice to say no?” His throat moved tightly. “Actually, if you don’t want to, you can…” “Run away? Or storm into your office, point my finger in your face, and scream that I’ll never marry you?” I locked eyes with him. “If I do that, I’ll be fine. But Carter, what would happen to you?” The answer was obvious. He would die. In my past life, I couldn’t understand how a man could be so weak and pathetic that a mere canceled wedding would push him to end his own life without even demanding to see me. But now… I couldn’t bear the thought of him dying again. 10 Carter was an undeniable genius. His business acumen was ruthless, yet his background was a total void. His rivals dug for years and found nothing, forced to watch as he seized the tech boom and skyrocketed to the top of the billionaire ladder. With a smile and a handshake, he suffocated the old-money elites of Chicago. Yet this brilliant, powerful man had thrown his life away in his prime over a woman. In my past life, Carter became the laughingstock of the corporate world. Thanks to rival smear campaigns, his legacy was dragged through the mud. I refused to let that happen again. On the drive home, my mind raced. I glanced at Carter, who was driving with an emotionless mask, and decided I needed to have a serious sit-down with his assistant. I honestly had no idea how to handle this guy. And then there was his illness… Was there really no cure?

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My dad was a “conqueror.” After successfully completing his mission, he left this world, leaving me with four mothers. My first mom, Evelyn Bennett, was a CEO, rich beyond measure. My second mom, Lillian Croft, was a famous movie star. My third mom, Dr. Bella Reed, was a brilliant physician, and my fourth mom, General Maya Sterling, held significant power. These four mothers doted on me for sixteen years, giving me the stars and not denying me the moon. Until three years ago, when their former “white moonlight,” Adam Grayson, the son of their first love, returned. From that day on, my four mothers only believed him, not me. He accused me of calling him dirtier than a dog and unworthy of living in our home, so my mothers made me eat dog food and sleep in a dog kennel. He claimed I had bullied him with classmates at school, so my mothers withdrew me, then hired three thugs to beat me at home for three months. After Adam again claimed I pushed him, my mothers locked me in the dog cage and starved me for three days and three nights, telling me to “learn my lesson.” As I was close to starving, I heard my father’s voice. “Alexander, do you want to come back to Dad?” … I instantly snapped awake. Then I realized it wasn’t Dad speaking to me, but the System. It said that when Dad left, he’d left me a chance. If I wished, I could go to Dad’s world. Of course, I wanted to. But the words caught in my throat. I asked the System, “Will returning to Dad be better than now? If he loved me, why didn’t he take me with him in the first place?” The System told me that Dad took on this mission because Grandma was very ill, and he wanted to save her. In his own world, he was just a sophomore in college. Saving Grandma had drained all his savings, and his family was in debt. At the time, my four mothers promised that no matter whose child I was, they would treat me as their own, only asking Dad to leave them a memento. A parent’s love for their child extends to planning for their distant future. Dad didn’t want me to suffer with him, so he left me here. “Alexander.” The System’s voice was gentle, as if stroking me. “Your father has been waiting for you all these years. He hasn’t found a girlfriend, hasn’t married. He bought a small house and has been waiting for you. Do you want to go find him?” I nodded. The System sighed in relief. It said that as soon as my current body died, I could see Dad. Hearing this, I took off my clothes and tied them into a knot on the cage. I’d seen it on TV: if you put your head through, your body’s weight would cause death. Luckily, the dog cage was big enough, and I was short enough. After putting my head through the loop, a suffocating sensation quickly spread around my neck. My consciousness gradually blurred, but I felt happy. I would see Dad soon. But before I could even be happy for a few seconds, I heard someone call my name. The dog cage was opened, and I was rescued. After regaining my breath, I looked up, meeting a pair of panicked eyes. “Mommy Bennett.” The name slipped out almost instinctively. Soon, I regretted it. Because when Evelyn heard it, the panic in her eyes was replaced by disgust. “Don’t call me that. You don’t deserve it!” Evelyn was my CEO mom. Of the four mothers, she doted on me the most. Our eyes were very similar. All these years, I lived in Evelyn’s villa. Whatever I wanted, she would buy for me. She had said that even if it was the stars in the sky, if I wanted them, she would pluck them down for me. However, that doting love ended three years ago. Evelyn brought Adam Grayson back from abroad. It was then I learned that, besides my father, the four of them had a “white moonlight” in their past. That “white moonlight” had betrayed the four of them, gotten a large sum of money, and then left the country. It was Dad who appeared and redeemed them, helping them slowly recover from that betrayal. Later, the “white moonlight” was dying abroad, called Evelyn to apologize, and begged her to adopt Adam. The four mothers told me Adam was a little younger than me and asked me to be accommodating. I genuinely treated him as a younger brother. But from the very beginning, Adam wanted to steal all my mothers’ affection. He would mysteriously appear with injuries, claiming I had hit him. He would suddenly tumble down the stairs, saying I had pushed him. As his accusations of my harming him increased, my mothers grew more and more disappointed in me. Until that time Adam was cornered in an alley by a dozen thugs and almost beaten to death. When those thugs were caught, they all claimed I had ordered them. I had no way to defend myself. From that day on, I became the family’s villain. My four mothers forbade me from calling them “Mom.” I also moved from the children’s room to the dog cage. All the servants called me a murderer. Being beaten, scolded, and starved became a daily occurrence. Thinking of this, I quickly lowered my head and apologized, “I’m sorry, Ms. Th… Ms. Bennett.” Even so, Evelyn remained relentless. “Alexander Davies, what are you trying to do? Attempting suicide? Deliberately trying to attract our attention?” “But aren’t you too stupid? Staging a suicide here? This place stinks so much, even if your body rotted, no one would find it.” So she thought I was putting on an act. I didn’t argue with her, only asked, bewildered, “Ms. Bennett, why are you here? Aren’t you the most particular about cleanliness?” Evelyn frowned. “This is my home. I can go wherever I please. I came here to warn you: today is Adam’s birthday. Don’t cause him any trouble. At the very least, you cannot die here.” I nodded obediently. So she saved me because she didn’t want me to die in the villa and spoil Adam’s day. Then I’d just die somewhere else. After Evelyn left the dog kennel, I also left the Bennett family villa. I bought a bottle of pesticide and went to Dad’s old place. I lay on the bed, holding Dad’s photo, and was about to drink the pesticide when I paused again. If I just died like this and was discovered, it would definitely cause trouble for the police officers. So I wrote a suicide note, telling everyone I took my own life. The pesticide tasted bitter, burning like fire from my tongue to my stomach. I quickly lost consciousness. Dad, I’m coming! After I don’t know how long, I felt my stomach churning. After throwing up, I woke up feeling wretched. Seeing a different ceiling, I joyfully sat up. Before the word “Dad” could leave my lips, I met Dr. Reed’s eyes. Dr. Reed stood before me in a white lab coat, clutching my suicide note. Her fingertips trembled slightly from the force. Finally, she threw the letter at my face. “Alexander Davies, you truly have a knack for drama, even resorting to death to demand our attention.” “And you couldn’t even die somewhere far away. Why choose there? You dirtied your father’s house, do you know that?” I was bewildered by Dr. Reed’s shouting. Actually, among the four mothers, Dr. Bella Reed, the physician, was my favorite. She was a medical expert, proficient in both traditional and Western medicine. On weekdays, she would always teach me medical knowledge and acupuncture. She was gentle and interesting, spending the most time with me. I once believed she was my biological mother. Even when Adam first appeared, she didn’t pay him excessive attention like the other three mothers. Instead, she told me, “Alexander, you are Mommy Bella’s only son. No one’s appearance can shake your position.” Until that day when Adam suddenly fainted in public. Dr. Reed pulled an acupuncture needle from the back of his head. Just as she asked Adam what had happened, Adam suddenly knelt before me. “Brother, I was wrong. I didn’t tell Mommy Bella about this. She found out herself. Please, stab me again.” That was the first time I saw Dr. Reed furious. She looked at me with immense disappointment and said, “Alexander Davies, I taught you these things to save people, not to kill!” No matter what I said, she wouldn’t believe me. Because in the entire family, besides her, only I could insert that needle there. “Bella, calm down.” It was then I noticed Evelyn was also in the hospital room, her face grim. “Alexander Davies seems to be having mental problems. He tried to kill himself at home, then drank pesticide at Shen Hao’s place. I suspect…” Dr. Reed interrupted her. “Evelyn, are you going soft? Have you forgotten how good he is at acting?” “He’s so greedy for wealth, how could he possibly bear to leave us four? He’s merely making a scene for attention because he knows it’s Adam’s birthday today.” Hearing her words, Evelyn’s doubts gradually faded. “You’re right.” Just then, both their phones rang simultaneously. They took them out and checked them. “Mommy Bennett, Mommy Bella, when are you coming home? The other two mothers are already waiting at home.” “It’s my coming-of-age party today! If you don’t come back soon, I’ll be angry.” Adam’s childish voice echoed in the room. Both mothers’ faces simultaneously broke into smiles. They carefully held their phones, sending voice messages to Adam, coaxing him. This scene was very familiar. Once upon a time, they used to coax me the same way. It seemed my mothers hadn’t changed as people, but their hearts had. Amidst their constant “sweetie pie” endearments, my heart grew cold, and I moved towards the window. I was afraid of pain, so I always thought of gentler ways to die. But now I couldn’t wait any longer. So, in front of both of them, I climbed over the windowsill and jumped. Goodbye! My two mothers. The imagined pain didn’t materialize. I was caught by a tree outside. When I was rescued, Dr. Reed, her face ashen, came up and slapped me. “Alexander Davies, are you ever going to stop?!” Evelyn’s face wasn’t much better. Her whole body trembled as she also kicked me. “Alexander Davies, what exactly do you want?” I was kicked to the ground. Having just had my stomach pumped, and then this kick, the spot felt like someone was poking a knife into it and then twisting it vigorously. A putrid smell surged from my stomach into my mouth. After spitting out that mouthful of blood, I knelt before both of them. “Ms. Bennett, Dr. Reed, please don’t bother with me anymore. Just let me die.” My words left them both stunned. Evelyn frowned, “Is this your new trick? Blackmailing us with death?” “No.” I told them, my eyes red. “I met Dad’s system. It said that if I die, I can go to Dad. Please, just leave me alone, let me die.” “That way, you won’t have to worry about me competing with Adam for your affection, and you won’t have to keep me locked up to guard against me.”

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At our high school reunion, the guy I secretly crushed on for three years, Liam, actually showed up. From the beginning to the end of the night, we didn’t exchange a single word. That was, until the party broke up, and I was the only one left to drag his drunk self back to his hotel room. Inside, I stared at him passed out on the bed, waging a violent internal war against my most earthly desires, and eventually managed to keep my hands to myself. I never expected him to show up at my front door the very next morning, looking deeply wronged as he asked: “How did you hold back?” I stared at him, completely bewildered. “Weren’t you blackout drunk?” He took a step closer. “I was drunk.” “I was faking it.” “But you… you stared at me for so long, and then you just left me there and went home.” 1 This class reunion was organized by our class president right before the holidays. Everyone was RSVPing in the group chat when our old sports captain suddenly tagged Liam. [Is Liam coming?] [Whoa! If Liam comes, Chloe will definitely be there, right?!] [Omg yes! My favorite high school ship is finally reuniting!] Scrolling through the messages, a bitter, sour feeling settled in my chest. Chloe was our school’s ‘It Girl’—radiant, beautiful, and from a wealthy family. Standing next to Liam, they really did look like a perfect match. As for me? The most interaction I ever got with Liam was when the teacher read out the test scores, and he’d throw a teasing comment my way: “Our class rep really is built different.” My crush was a secret I intended to take to my grave. I didn’t even have the courage to hold a normal conversation with him. I was terrified that a single look would give me away. After a long pause, Liam finally replied to the chat with a simple [1]. I privately messaged the class president to RSVP as well. The night of the reunion, I was sitting in a corner, chatting with some old friends about college life. Suddenly, Liam pushed the private room door open, with Chloe following closely behind him. The whole class erupted into cheers. “Liam and Chloe look so good together!” “I knew the only one who could tame Liam was Chloe!” Chloe smiled shyly, rolling her eyes playfully at the cheering crowd. “Alright guys, keep it down.” But Liam’s face suddenly turned ice cold. “Don’t talk nonsense.” He pushed through the crowd and walked straight over, sitting down right next to me. The room instantly went dead silent. Every single pair of eyes snapped toward us. I stiffened my neck, turned my head, and met Liam’s pitch-black eyes. “Long time no see, Class Rep.” I instantly chickened out. I just nodded at him, considering that a greeting. He was tall with incredibly long legs, and to avoid accidentally touching him, I shimmied closer to the wall. Liam shot me a sideways glance but didn’t say anything. My friend Jenna, sitting on my other side, frantically texted me. [Holy crap, why did Liam sit next to you? Since when are you guys this close?!] [I have no idea! Is it because I’m wearing a black jacket today and he literally didn’t see me sitting here?] […He’s not legally blind. But you better watch out, the look Chloe is giving you right now could literally kill you.] I sneaked a peek at Chloe. Her expression was completely thunderous. I texted Jenna back, saying I’d rather shrink into my seat and play dead than become cannon fodder in their drama. The class president quickly pulled Chloe to a seat, trying to smooth things over. Everyone started chatting again, reminiscing about high school, and the atmosphere slowly relaxed. Suddenly, Chloe walked over with her wine glass, leaned down, and smiled at me. “Sarah, do you mind swapping seats with me?” I looked up, meeting her perfectly composed, flawless smile. I was just stressing over how to escape this awkward situation! I immediately agreed: “Oh, sure, yeah, let’s swap.” I grabbed my glass of juice, ready to stand up. Suddenly, a heavy weight landed on my shoulder, pinning me down. I froze, slowly turning my head to look at the pale, long-fingered hand resting on my shoulder. Then I looked at Chloe. Oh boy, the look in her eyes was even worse now! But Liam remained completely unfazed. He lifted his heavy eyelids, shot Chloe a cold look, and said flatly: “She’s sitting here. Find somewhere else.” Cold sweat instantly broke out on my back. My first instinct was to shove Liam’s hand off me. But then I realized that if we started physically struggling, it would look even more suspicious. I decided to just play the polite bystander and let out an awkward laugh to defuse the tension: “It’s fine, I’ll swap with you. I don’t really want to sit against the wall anyway.” Liam turned his head and raised an eyebrow at me. “In high school, didn’t you always say your favorite spot was right against the wall?” The fake smile on my face instantly shattered. I had no idea what kind of game he was playing. The room went dead quiet again. Completely ignored and humiliated by him, Chloe’s eyes turned red. She choked out: “Liam, do you really have to embarrass me in front of all these people?” The air pressure around Liam dropped to freezing. He said in a low, dangerous voice: “You brought the embarrassment on yourself. She was sitting here perfectly fine. Why should she move for you?” Unable to take the humiliation, Chloe slammed her glass down on the table, turned around, and ran out of the room. But Liam didn’t move an inch. Finally, the class president sighed, stood up, and chased after her. The crowd’s gaze shifted from Liam directly onto me. I felt like I was sitting on a bed of nails. Dear God. I have literally nothing to do with this! 2 After Chloe left, Liam started drinking. Hard. To anyone watching, it looked exactly like a couple having a nasty fight. I didn’t dare speak to him, terrified of causing an even bigger misunderstanding. I just shrank back into my corner, clutching my orange juice like a lifeline. Silently counting how many glasses he was throwing back. In our three years of high school, Liam and I rarely ever sat this close to each other. He had taken off his jacket and draped it over the back of his chair. The sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled up, revealing the lean, defined muscles of his forearms. I fought with everything I had to keep my eyes off him. But the faint, intoxicating scent of rosewater radiating from him kept drifting to my nose. It had been almost a year since I last saw him. His features had sharpened, losing the soft edges of a high school boy. He existed in that perfect space between a boy and a man, looking even more breathtaking than before. I couldn’t help it. I sneaked a tiny, quick glance at him—and crashed straight into his gaze. I immediately snapped my eyes away and violently started eating my salad. After a few seconds of silence, I heard him let out a soft, low chuckle. “Hiding again.” My heart was beating so fast I thought it was going to burst out of my chest. Thankfully, some of the guys started talking to him, breaking the suffocating tension. I absentmindedly poked at the greens in my bowl. I was starting to regret coming to see him. I knew he didn’t belong to me, yet I couldn’t stop myself from secretly pining for him, over and over again. Just as my thoughts were spiraling, a massive chicken drumstick suddenly appeared in my bowl. I looked at Liam in absolute shock. He didn’t even look at me. He just said coolly: “I used the serving chopsticks. They’re clean.” I took a deep breath, forced myself to stay calm, and managed a stiff, “Thank you.” But inside, I was screaming— Is this about the chopsticks?! Since when are we close enough to serve each other food?! Luckily, no one knew about my secret crush on him, so everyone just assumed I was awkwardly caught in the crossfire. Even Jenna texted me: [Looks like our favorite ship has officially sunk. Sarah, I feel so bad for you, but I can’t save you. Just eat your food and stay quiet.] I replied with a single smiley face emoji. Expressing my absolute speechlessness. Liam seemed determined to drink himself into a coma tonight. He barely spoke another word, and his eyes didn’t drift my way again. Everyone read the room. Seeing that the night had run its course, they all started making excuses to leave. I wanted to leave too. But Liam was leaning lazily back in his chair, his eyes closed, his incredibly long legs stretched out, completely blocking my only exit. I called his name softly. “Liam? Could you move a little?” No response. I tugged lightly on the edge of his shirt. “Liam?” Still nothing. Looks like he was genuinely blackout drunk. I signaled Jenna for help. “Jenna, wait for me, let’s leave together.” But just as she started walking toward me, Liam’s eyes snapped open, and he shot her a freezing, lethal glare. Jenna froze in her tracks, laughing awkwardly: “Uh, Sarah, why don’t you do the honors and get him home?” I didn’t even get a chance to object. Liam let out a low “Mm,” turned to look at me, and said with perfect, slurred politeness: “Sorry to trouble you, Class Rep.” Me: “…No trouble at all.” 3 I booked a room at the nearest hotel and asked him if he could still walk. He gripped the edge of the table to stand up, but immediately stumbled. I frantically reached out and caught him. The sudden, close physical contact sent my heart into overdrive. I wanted to let go, but I was terrified he would crack his head open on the floor. “How about I ask a waiter to help you to the hotel?” Liam instantly stood up straight, his brows furrowing deeply. “No. I don’t like other people touching me.” He grabbed his jacket off the chair and looked back at me. “Let’s go. Didn’t you say you were walking me back?” With that, he started walking toward the door on his own. I stared at his back, completely bewildered. Is he actually drunk or not? I sighed heavily and jogged after him. “Liam, wait a second, let me call an Uber.” “Is it far?” “Not really, but—” “Then let’s walk. I’m dizzy. I don’t want to sit in a car.” I looked at his pale face and tightly knit brows. He definitely didn’t look well. Maybe getting some fresh air would help clear his head. For the entire walk, I quietly trailed behind him. The only sound was my Google Maps navigation telling us which traffic light to turn at. Suddenly, Liam stopped dead in his tracks. I wasn’t paying attention and almost slammed right into his back. Thank god for my quick reflexes; the tip of my nose barely brushed against his wool coat. “What’s wrong? Are you going to throw up? Should I run into a pharmacy and get you some hangover meds?” Whenever my dad drank too much, my mom always made him an herbal hangover drink, and it always settled his stomach. There happened to be a 24-hour pharmacy right across the street. I pointed at it. “You stay right here. Don’t wander off, I’ll be right back—” Liam suddenly grabbed my wrist, yanked me backward, and pulled me solidly into his arms. My entire body froze. I forgot how to breathe. The hug I had only ever dared to imagine in my wildest dreams was actually happening. But I was completely sober. And I knew this was wrong. I tried to push him away, but he only held me tighter. If anyone from school saw us like this, I would never be able to explain it! My voice was trembling when I called his name. “Liam—” He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his voice incredibly hoarse and low: “Please don’t go, okay?” “I didn’t do anything to make you mad. Stop hiding from me.” 4 Liam was definitely blackout drunk. He was mistaking me for Chloe, and spouting a bunch of easily misunderstood nonsense. I didn’t want to get into a wrestling match with him in the middle of the street. So, I had to treat him like a toddler. “I’m not going anywhere, I’m taking you to bed. Be good, let go of me first, okay?” He let out an obedient “Mm,” released the hug, and immediately grabbed my hand instead. And then he looked at me with those huge, wet, puppy-dog eyes. Thank god my psychological fortitude was strong and my moral compass was high. For the next two blocks, my palms were sweating from how tightly he was gripping my hand. I stepped on his shadow, muttering under my breath: “If you’re this clingy, why the hell were you fighting with her in the first place? You brought this on yourself!” When we finally made it to the hotel room and the door clicked shut behind us, his legs gave out completely. He dragged me down onto the bed with him. His hot breath fanned against my ear, the intoxicating scent of alcohol and rosewater completely overwhelming my senses. All I had to do was turn my head an inch, and my lips would touch his. Who could possibly resist this kind of temptation?! Me, that’s who! Even though I really wanted to. I couldn’t. He was just drunk, not dead. Taking advantage of him while he was blackout drunk was highly immoral. I violently suppressed the massive wave of dirty thoughts in my brain and shoved him off me. Liam lay flat on his back. The alcohol was probably making him thirsty, because he restlessly shifted and ran his tongue over his dry lips. Dear God. If I looked at him for one more second, I was going to get a nosebleed. I frantically unscrewed a bottle of water and brought it to his lips. He swallowed instinctively, his Adam’s apple bobbing. The pale skin of his neck was flushed red from the alcohol, the color spreading all the way to the tips of his ears. …This was getting out of hand. Truly. I squeezed my eyes shut, and my hand jerked. The cool water spilled past his lips, soaking a dark patch into the hotel sheets. I mentally slapped myself in the face. I muttered a curse at myself. “You absolute animal!” I kept my eyes locked on the ceiling. I aggressively yanked the duvet over him, tucking him in like a burrito, and finally managed to calm down. Staring at Liam’s sleeping face, his brows still furrowed in discomfort, I gave myself a mental thumbs-up. Great job, Sarah. You didn’t sexually assault him while he was vulnerable. This was the boy I had loved for three years. He belonged in my dreams. He shouldn’t actually be a part of my real life. The doorbell rang. The hangover medicine I ordered had arrived. I placed the meds, a box of tissues, and a fresh bottle of water on the nightstand. I gave him a little wave and whispered my goodbyes. “Goodbye, Liam! Don’t drink this much ever again. Boys need to be careful when they’re out alone at night.” 5 It was incredibly late by the time I got home, but I wasn’t tired at all. Jenna was still awake, eager to gossip. [Sarah, did you hear? The class president said when he finally caught up to Chloe, she was crying so hard it was pathetic.] [She said she had a little argument with Liam, and it made him furious.] That made sense to me. For three years of high school, they were practically joined at the hip. Their families were both incredibly wealthy and well-connected, so even the teachers turned a blind eye to them. Thinking about that mistaken hug tonight… I felt even more ashamed. My crush was something I couldn’t control, but the only thing I could control was my own actions. I wouldn’t cause trouble for him. And I wouldn’t humiliate myself. I scrolled through my phone, feeling completely miserable, until I finally tossed it aside and forced myself to sleep. Early the next morning, my doorbell rang. At this hour, my parents had already left for work. Logically, no one should be visiting. But the doorbell kept ringing persistently, like whoever it was had an emergency. I threw on my fluffy robe and went to open the door. When I saw the person standing outside, my jaw dropped. “Liam?! What are you doing here? The hotel room I booked for you doesn’t check out until 2 PM!” “That’s not important.” I was completely baffled. I couldn’t think of a single reason why he would be at my front door. He took a step closer and said in a low voice: “I came to pay you back for the hotel room.” I let out a huge sigh of relief. “Oh, you could have just Venmo’d me! You didn’t have to come all the way here—” “But you never gave me your number.” “…I’ll give it to you right now!” After we exchanged contacts, he didn’t immediately send the money. Instead, he stood in the doorway, rubbing his arms, his voice sounding incredibly pathetic. “Class Rep, I’m so cold. Aren’t you going to invite me inside?” I snapped out of my daze and realized he wasn’t wearing the heavy wool coat from last night. He was only wearing a thin black hoodie and jeans. He looked amazing, but he was definitely freezing. I looked down at myself. I was wearing a massive, fluffy, bear-eared pajama onesie. Warm, yes. But incredibly childish! I couldn’t bear to watch him freeze, so I stepped aside to let him in. “Come on in and sit down.” The second the door closed, I instantly regretted it. A boy and a girl, alone in a house. He was completely sober, and I was completely sober. He was a living, breathing human standing in my living room, and he was staring right at me. I didn’t know what to do with my hands or feet. I ran around like a headless chicken, turning up the thermostat, pulling out chips, sunflower seeds, and a bowl of fresh cherries. “Have a snack first, I’ll go grab you a glass of milk.” He suddenly grabbed my hand. “Stop running around. I’m not hungry.” His freezing fingertips sent a shiver through me. He immediately let go. “Just sit with me for a minute.” I sat down rigidly, my hands placed perfectly on my knees like an obedient school child. It was way too quiet. I was starting to panic. After a long pause, Liam broke the silence. “Why did you leave me there last night?” “…I didn’t leave you! You were blackout drunk. I took you to the hotel, made sure you were asleep, and then went home.” Liam’s clear, dark eyes stared directly into mine. “I was drunk. But I faked passing out.” He drank at least six or seven bottles of beer last night. He was drunk as a skunk, and he even thought I was Chloe! And now he was sitting in my living room trying to claim he faked it?! I reasonably deduced he was just trying to save face. I gave a dry laugh, offering him an out. “Oh, totally, totally! I could tell you handle your liquor really well! You weren’t messy at all!” Liam stared at me, looking deeply frustrated, like he was looking at an absolute idiot. “If I didn’t pretend to pass out, with how terrified you are of me, when would you have ever dared to come near me?” “I was literally lying there totally helpless last night. You could have done whatever you wanted to me.” “And what did you do? You tucked me in and ran away.” I froze completely. Wait, did he figure something out?! I thought I hid my crush perfectly! Liam stood up, taking a step toward me, and slowly opened his arms. “You absolute coward. Can I get a hug?” “I’m dying of a broken heart over here.” 6 Liam reached out and pulled me into a gentle hug. My nose was filled with the faint, elegant scent of roses. It was so intoxicating I felt myself melting into it. The living room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. I couldn’t tell if the deafening, hammering heartbeat I was hearing was his, or mine. Was he actually sober right now? If he was, why was he hugging me? I absolutely refused to be his temporary rebound after a bad breakup. And I refused to take advantage of him while he was heartbroken and vulnerable. I forced my rational brain to reboot and pushed him away. “Liam, you have a girlfriend. You cannot hug me.” “I only took you to the hotel last night because we’re classmates. Please do not misunderstand.” Liam’s entire body stiffened. He looked at me in total, absolute shock. “Since when do I have a girlfriend?” I was just as confused as he was. “You and Chloe! Weren’t you guys dating all through high school?” Liam let out a breath of pure exasperation, almost laughing. “Are you kidding me? For three years of high school, the only things I cared about were studying and playing basketball. Where the hell did you get the idea that I was dating her?” “But that’s what everyone always said—” “Sarah. You believe them over me?” Hearing him say my actual name sent a jolt of panic through my chest. I avoided his intense, burning gaze and mumbled: “I didn’t say I didn’t believe you. It’s just that everyone said it, and you never bothered to deny it…” “I made it perfectly clear to her a long time ago. I don’t like her. The only connection we have is that our parents are friends and we live in the same neighborhood.” “Whatever she does has absolutely nothing to do with me.” “But you, on the other hand. You absolute idiot. I’ve been in love with you for three years, and you didn’t notice a single thing?!” I couldn’t believe my ears. I never thought I would hear a confession from him. Suddenly, a flood of memories hit me. Every time I had casually glanced over my shoulder in class, I had always locked eyes with Liam. But I always thought it was just a coincidence. I never dared to imagine it meant anything more. It wasn’t until Liam gently brushed his fingers against my hand that I realized I was trembling so hard I was vibrating. “Why aren’t you saying anything?” “I… I need to think about it.” The fact that he was confessing to me felt entirely surreal. I needed to calm down, re-evaluate every interaction we had ever had, and then give him an answer. Hearing that, Liam let out a soft, relieved laugh. “Okay. There’s no rush. I’ll get going then.” “So soon?” Crap. Said that out loud. I looked up, and sure enough, Liam was fighting back a massive, triumphant grin. I wanted to crawl under the sofa cushions and die. Liam reached out and affectionately ruffled my hair. “Once you finally give me a title, I’ll never leave your house.” “It’s my birthday next week. Can you come to my party?” “Yes, I’ll definitely be there.” After Liam left, I got a Venmo notification from him. The amount was astronomically higher than the cost of the hotel room. I sent him a question mark. [You sent way too much.] He replied: [Thanks for taking care of me last night.] [Can you use the extra to buy me a present?] Even if he hadn’t asked, I was going to buy him one anyway. I knew exactly when his birthday was. For the past three years, the birthday gifts I had bought for him were all locked in the bottom drawer of my desk. I just never had the courage to give them to him. He said he never dated Chloe. And he said he liked me. Compared to my terrified, hiding-in-the-shadows approach, his absolute, unapologetic honesty gave me a surge of courage. I decided that on his birthday, I was going to officially confess my feelings. 7 On the day of Liam’s birthday, he was waiting outside my apartment building bright and early. He was even holding a bouquet of flowers. But he never told me he was coming to pick me up! Seeing him step out of his car and walk toward me, I quickly jogged over, a huge smile breaking across my face. “What are you doing here?” “It’s a long drive. I wanted to pick you up.” He glanced down at my dress, and his brows immediately furrowed. “It’s too cold. Get in the car.” The joy I had just felt instantly dissolved into panic. Usually, I dressed like a complete tomboy. Today, I specifically bought a brand new outfit and even put on a little makeup. The skirt ended right above my knees, and even with fleece-lined tights, the winter wind was cutting straight to my bones. Liam always looked so effortlessly cool and athletic. I just didn’t want to look like a complete slob standing next to him. “Do you not like it?” “What are you talking about?” “The dress looks amazing on you. But I don’t want you to freeze to death. Get in.” A warm, fluttery feeling bloomed in my chest. I whispered, “I’m not cold.” Liam leaned over the center console and gently buckled my seatbelt for me. Then he placed the bouquet of flowers onto my lap. I looked at him in total confusion. “Today is your birthday, why are you giving me flowers?” “I was worried you forgot to buy me a present, so I brought these. When we get to the party, just tell everyone you bought them for me.” I immediately felt embarrassed. “I can’t do that! Besides, I did buy you a present!” I pulled a small velvet box out of my purse and handed it to him. Liam opened it right then and there. His eyes lit up. “A bracelet? It’s beautiful. I love it.” He immediately slipped it onto his wrist. He turned to me, shook his wrist to show it off, a brilliant, genuine smile spreading across his face. “Thank you. Getting two presents today makes me really happy.” “You’re welcome. As long as you like it.” Seeing you happy makes me happy.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391478”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

After I became paralyzed from the waist down, I thought about ending it all. Many times. Until my friends showed up. “Harper, come out and shoot some hoops.” I stared at them blankly, looking down at my wheelchair. I pointed out that playing basketball was going to be a bit difficult for me right now. They had a stroke of genius: “Then you can fetch the ball for us.” When we went shopping, they bought new clothes and boba tea. Whenever their hands got full, they just dumped everything onto my lap. I rolled behind them, my numb legs buried under a mountain of girls’ accessories and shopping bags. Every now and then, they would turn around and spoon-feed me a bite of ice cream. They would run laps around my wheelchair, laughing and shoving each other. In that moment. I found a reason to stay alive. 1 The summer I turned sixteen. I became paralyzed. But, they would say: “Harper, you’ve got this.” “Harper, let’s go out.” “Harper, you’d look so good in a dress. Hold on, we’re putting one on you.” “Harper, let me sit in your wheelchair for a sec, my feet are killing me.” “Harper, want to run a marathon with us? We’ll give you a three-minute head start.” “Harper, we’re best friends for life.” …… Early morning. I had been sitting out on the balcony all night again. My mom pushed the door open. First, she sighed. Then she started making my bed. As she straightened the sheets, she couldn’t help but sob softly. Irritated, I snapped at her: “If you’re going to cry, go cry outside.” The second the words left my mouth, I regretted them. But before I could apologize, a half-eaten apple was thrown into the living room from the hallway. Followed by a furious roar. “That is your mother.” “Watch how you speak to her!” “We didn’t cause your condition, so what gives you the right to take it out on us?” As my dad’s words echoed, the apple rolled across the floor and hit my foot. I couldn’t bend down to pick it up. I just watched it roll underneath my wheelchair. A million thoughts raced through my head. I hated myself for not even being able to do something so simple. My mom looked at me with wet eyes, then walked over. She practiced the motion: squatting, then dropping to her knees. She reached her arm under my wheelchair, feeling around blindly. Her face flushed red from the exertion. Finally, she retrieved the apple. She looked up at me with a goofy, exhausting smile. Her thin lips were pale and chapped. She looked unkempt. “Harper, Mom made some chicken noodle soup. Do you want to try a little?” I stayed stubbornly silent, looking away in disgust at her messy appearance. Before I got sick, she never looked like this. She used to wear beautiful dresses and pearl jewelry. She dressed more stylishly than I did; people used to mistake us for sisters. How did my illness end up ruining her life, too? I thought about the bony spine protruding from her back when she bent over to grab the apple. Her little tummy and double chin were completely gone. In just two years, she had withered into an emaciated, unkempt woman with half a head of gray hair. It wasn’t fair. I didn’t want to be the villain of this family. But I had no choice. I was the villain. Because of my recklessness, this family had been reduced to this. And yet, I refused to act my age. I always used violent, icy emotions to mask my deep-seated shame. I threw tantrums, blaming my mom, blaming my dad, blaming the car crash. But deep down, the person I hated most was myself. Perhaps sensing my quiet despair, my mom gently patted my head. I just kept my head down, and in a very, very small voice. I said, “I’m sorry.” 2 During dinner, the house phone suddenly rang. My mom put down her fork and ran to answer it. “Hello? Hi!” “You’re looking for Harper? Sure.” “Harper is home, come on over.” She walked back to the table, chewing on a piece of leftover toast from yesterday. “Harper, that was Chloe and Zoe. They said they’re downstairs and they want to take you out shopping.” My mom’s tone was incredibly cautious, as if terrified I would throw another tantrum. And of course, I did. I screamed at her: “Shopping? You want me, a paraplegic, to go shopping with them?” “You want me to sit there and watch them walk around in their pretty dresses with their perfectly working legs?” “Did you even consider how I would feel?” “Are you even my mother?” My mom’s face went sheet white. She looked at me in a panic and quickly crouched down to soothe me. “No, sweetheart, Mom didn’t mean it like that.” “They were your best friends. I just thought you’d want to see them.” “It’s okay, if you don’t want to see them, you don’t have to. Mom will go call them and tell them to go home.” I turned my face away, ignoring her. Suddenly, a heavy fist slammed onto the dining table. “Harper Davis!” “Are you ever going to stop?” “This entire family has quit jobs and fallen ill just to take care of you.” “We haven’t had a single good day.” “What? Are you the only person in the whole world who doesn’t have legs?” “Why is it that everyone else can find a way to move on, but you insist on wallowing in misery?” “It’s been two years. How long are you going to keep doing this?” “If you act like this, how can your mother ever rest easy… how can she…” He seemed to realize something, cutting his sentence short and falling silent. I continued to pretend I couldn’t hear him, biting down hard on the tip of my tongue to swallow the surge of anger. My mom was terrified. She rushed over and pried my jaw open with her bare hands. “Okay, okay, we won’t force you anymore.” “Be a good girl, Harper. If you don’t want to go out, we won’t go out.” “Whenever you feel ready, then we’ll take you…” Before she could finish, there was a knock on our front door. Followed by a chorus of long-lost, giggling voices. “Harper! Open the door, I really have to pee!” “Harper, we heard you were depressed, so the girls are here to cheer you up.” “Harper, we brought your favorite boba, but there’s only half left because haha, I drank the other half.” Hearing their voices, a completely indescribable feeling washed over me. It was complicated. But there was also a strange, undeniable spark of joy. 3 Chloe and Zoe were my absolute best friends from elementary through middle school. But after my parents and I moved out of state, we lost touch. They didn’t even know about the accident during my sophomore year of high school. According to my mom, they both ended up going to college in this city. They ran into my mom by chance and finally learned what had happened to me. So they immediately came to see me. I figured, let them look. This is what I am now anyway. This is what the rest of my life is going to be. I took a deep breath and spun my chair around. I braced myself for their pitiful, sympathetic, teary-eyed gazes. But surprisingly, none of that happened. Chloe said: “Harper, how is your skin so clear? You’re so pale.” Zoe said: “Oh my god, you’re so skinny! You’d look amazing in a dress.” I froze for a second. I looked at them. And then, for some inexplicable reason, I smiled. And I mocked myself. “Lock yourself in a house for two years and you’ll get pale and skinny, too.” But I felt a little happy. I don’t know why. They didn’t seem to look at me like a disabled person. It was just like the old days. They still wanted to compare everything with me. Comparing whose nose looked better. Comparing whose butt was perkier. Comparing who could catch the attention of the senior boys. At least they weren’t here to pity me. And I didn’t have to pretend everything was fine. I didn’t have to put on a brave face just to comfort them. 4 After eating, driven by pure curiosity. They fought over who got to push me downstairs. To the point where they almost flipped me out of the wheelchair. It wasn’t until I literally crashed into the elevator doors and got my head trapped between them. That they finally panicked. They hurriedly wrestled me back into the seat. They weren’t very strong, so they ended up grabbing my arms, chasing the rolling wheelchair all the way down the hallway. After a few minutes of chaos. The three of us just burst out laughing for no reason. It was, admittedly, a ridiculous scene. Once they safely secured me in the wheelchair, they stopped fighting over who got to push. Instead, they stood on either side of me, pulled out their compact mirrors, and seriously started fixing their hair and makeup. They didn’t forget to roll my pant legs back down for me, either. I was just about to ask what the occasion was. When I looked up and saw the older boy from next door. He walked toward us with a big smile, deep dimples on his cheeks. He was over six feet tall, spinning a basketball on his finger. He asked politely. “Harper, are you girls heading out?” I nodded. He smiled politely again. “I’m heading to the courts to shoot some hoops. If you guys are bored, you can come watch.” “We’re going shopping, maybe another time…” But before I could finish, I was aggressively interrupted. “No another time! Today is perfect!” “Which court are you playing at? We’ll bring you water!” …… And just like that. My lap was piled high with Gatorade. They pushed me along, treating me like a glorified grocery cart. Handing out water to everyone, flipping their hair, striking poses. Whenever they spotted a cute guy, they decided I was in the way. And shoved me to the sidelines. Telling me to go chill in the shade. When it was all over. I accidentally saw the keychains dangling from their backpacks. “Harper is my best friend.” 5 I am their best friend. My only friends are Chloe and Zoe. I don’t want to be friends with anyone else. 6 That night, they brought me home. They each demolished two massive slices of pizza and collapsed onto the sofa. “Harper, what’s your Wi-Fi password?” “Harper, get down, let me sit in your wheelchair for a bit.” “Harper, grab me an apple. Oh, and some chips, too.” “Harper, you’re blocking the TV. Move over.” …… I randomly grabbed an apple and threw it at them. Pretending to be annoyed, I said: “I’m going to bed. I’m exhausted.” As soon as I said that, my mom suddenly froze. A thick mist gathered in her eyes. She said. “Harper wants to go to sleep? Mom will carry you to bed.” Then, she emotionally pushed me toward my bedroom. I knew exactly why she was reacting this way. After all, before Chloe and Zoe showed up. It had been a very long time since I naturally wanted to go to sleep. I survived solely on sleeping pills. I nodded, letting her drag my senseless body. She wasn’t a strong woman, but she was always able to lift me up all by herself. I only found out later that my mom had secretly spent months practicing lifting heavy sandbags just to be able to carry me. But today was a little strange. She seemed to be struggling to lift me. Her forehead was beaded with sweat, and her breathing was heavier than usual. I asked: “Mom, what’s wrong?” She shook her head and said: “Nothing, Mom’s hands just slipped.” “Don’t worry, Harper, Mom can definitely pick you up.” Eventually, she managed to carry me to bed. But I also saw the profound heartbreak in the eyes of the man standing behind her. Honestly, a lot of times. I couldn’t tell if my dad loved me or not. But I knew he deeply loved my mom. Isn’t it natural for a husband to love his wife? If he loved me a little less. That was fine. I didn’t need that much love.

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New Year’s Eve was supposed to be the coronation of my new life. I’d just landed an associate offer at a Magic Circle law firm—the kind of place that doesn’t just pay a salary; they buy your soul and give you a golden pedestal in return. To celebrate, I’d splurged on a limited-edition Osetra caviar and white truffle tasting menu from a Michelin-starred pop-up. When I went to the lobby’s delivery rack, the bag was gone. In my previous life, I lost my head. I hunted down the girl who took it—a “struggling” scholarship student—and tore into her in the middle of the quad. That one moment of justified rage was my undoing. The university branded me a “privileged male bully,” my offer was rescinded, and I was expelled. Meanwhile, the girl played the victim so well she became the internet’s favorite “Fragile Wildflower.” I died in obscurity while she flourished on the back of my ruined reputation. But this time? This time, I watched the security footage with a calm, cold clarity. I saw her face—smug, entitled, tucked behind a mask of faux-innocence. I didn’t scream. I didn’t hunt her down. I dialed 911. By the time my advisor, Mrs. Gable, arrived at the campus security office, she looked more annoyed with me than the thief. “Cade, really? It’s a food delivery,” she sighed, checking her watch. “It’s New Year’s Eve. Why are we involving the police over a fifty-dollar bag of takeout? You’re a man; show some chivalry. This is an embarrassment to the law school. Have her write an apology letter and let’s move on.” I didn’t say a word. I reached into my coat, pulled out the digital receipt, and slid my phone across the desk. “Take a look at the itemized list, Mrs. Gable. That wasn’t a burger. It was a bespoke ‘Imperial Selection’ set with rare vintages. Total value: twenty-five thousand dollars. In this state, that’s Grand Larceny. We’re looking at a mandatory minimum of three to five years.” I turned to look at the girl, Layla, who was sitting in the corner. Her face went from “poor me” to ghostly white in a heartbeat. I smiled. “An apology letter? Save your writing skills for your parole board.” … Layla’s legs gave out. She collapsed onto the linoleum floor, the mask of the misunderstood waif shattering into shards of pure terror. “Twenty-five thousand? That’s… that’s impossible! Nobody spends that much on a delivery!” she shrieked, her voice like a cat with its tail caught in a door. “You’re framing me! Cade, you’re trying to ruin me! Are you even a man?” “Whether it’s a frame-up or a felony is for the District Attorney to decide,” I said, adjusting my cufflinks. I didn’t even grant her a second glance. Mrs. Gable finally found her voice. She lunged for my phone, trying to snatch it. “Cade! Are you insane? Cancel the call! If this gets out, the law school’s reputation is finished. A student arrested for grand theft? Do you want the Dean to have a heart attack?” I stepped back, letting her hand swipe through empty air. My eyes were ice. “Mrs. Gable, are you familiar with ‘Accessory After the Fact’?” She froze. “You’re an advisor at a top-tier law school. You know exactly what happens when you knowingly shield a criminal from the consequences of a felony.” The office door swung open before she could respond. My fiancée, Madison, walked in. One look at Layla on the floor and me standing over them, and her brow furrowed in that practiced, “disappointed socialite” way of hers. “Cade, what is this? I could hear the shouting from the parking lot.” Layla saw Madison and crawled toward her like a drowning woman reaching for a buoy. She grabbed Madison’s designer slacks with trembling hands. “Madison! Please! He’s trying to send me to prison! I just… I took the wrong bag by mistake! He says it’s twenty-five thousand dollars! He’s trying to kill my future!” Madison looked down at the sobbing girl, then at me. Her voice was layered with that performative moral superiority she loved so much. “Twenty-five thousand for dinner, Cade? Since when did you become so pathologically wasteful?” I almost laughed. This was my “loving” fiancée. Her first instinct wasn’t to question the thief; it was to indict the victim for his lifestyle. “It’s my money, Madison. I didn’t realize I needed to submit an expense report for my own celebrations.” “Don’t be glib,” she snapped. “This is about justice.” “Justice? You haven’t even asked what happened, yet you’ve already decided who’s at fault. Is that your version of justice?” Madison blinked, stunned. I usually spent our relationship bending over backward to stay in her good graces. I never raised my voice. She helped Layla up and sighed with the weight of the world on her shoulders. “Cade, have some grace. You know Layla’s background. She’s a sophomore on a full-ride scholarship. Twenty-five thousand is an astronomical sum to her; to you, it’s the price of a watch. You’re a Whitaker. You’re going to be my husband. Can’t you find it in yourself to be the bigger person? Why are you bullying a girl over a meal?” “To destroy a young woman’s entire future over money… don’t you think that’s a bit monstrous? Where is your masculinity?” In my last life, she said the exact same thing. While the internet was calling me a “misogynistic pig,” she was the one whispering in my ear to apologize, to step down, to “be a man” and take the hit. And I did. And my reward was a life in the gutter while she moved on to the next “gentleman.” “Madison,” I said, savoring every syllable of her name. “First: theft is theft. The law doesn’t have a gender, and it doesn’t have a sliding scale for ‘intent’ when the value hits five figures. Second: if I walked into your family’s estate and walked out with your heirloom diamonds, then called it ‘just a few rocks,’ would you be ‘the bigger person’?” I stepped into her personal space, looking down into her eyes. “And third—the most important part. My money doesn’t grow on trees. Why should I subsidize her ‘poverty’ with my hard work? Just because I’m a man and she’s a girl?” I pointed at the receipt on the desk. “If you’re so overcome with saintly compassion, Madison, you pay for it. Twenty-five thousand. Wire or check?” Madison’s face turned a blotchy, humiliated red. The campus security guards and the few students lingering in the hall were staring at her now. She was the “woke” heiress, always ready to spend other people’s moral capital, but never her own. “Cade, you’re being ridiculous! This isn’t about the money. It’s about your attitude! It’s about being a gentleman!” she shrieked, her voice rising to cover her lack of an argument. “If you aren’t writing a check, shut up.” I turned away from her as the police officers finally entered the room. “Officers, I’m the complainant. Here is the receipt, the order log, and I’ve already backed up the hallway surveillance footage on this thumb drive.” The lead officer looked at the amount on the screen and his posture sharpened. “This is a serious amount of property. Miss, you’re going to need to come with us.” As the handcuffs clicked into place, Layla finally snapped. “I won’t go! I’m not a thief! Madison, help me! Mrs. Gable!” She gripped the edge of the desk, her screams echoing through the hall. “Cade, you’re evil! You hate poor people! You’re just a bully who preys on women! I hope you rot!” Mrs. Gable paced nervously, but with the police there, she didn’t dare interfere further. She just glared at me. “Cade, you’ve made a massive mistake. This isn’t over.” As they led Layla away, she looked back at me. Her eyes weren’t crying anymore; they were filled with a venomous, serpentine hatred that promised a reckoning. Madison stood there, looking at me as if I were a stranger. “You won, Cade. But you lost the only thing that mattered: your character. You aren’t the man I thought you were.” She turned and swept out of the room. I stood in the silence of the office, feeling absolutely nothing but peace. Character? Chivalry? In my last life, I gave those things to the world, and they fed them to the dogs. This time, I had a new North Star: An eye for an eye. The firestorm started faster than I expected. By the next morning, a post was trending on the university’s “Confessions” page and Twitter. It didn’t mention theft. It spoke of a “terrified scholarship student” being “humiliated and threatened with prison” over a “food mistake.” It painted me as a corporate monster using my wealth to crush a girl’s spirit. The video had been edited. It only showed the moment I coldly said “twenty-five thousand” and Madison’s “brave” stand against my “cruelty.” The captions were pure bait: [A single dinner costs more than a poor student’s entire tuition. Is this the face of the Whitaker Group?] [Another privileged ‘Trust Fund Bro’ throwing a tantrum. Hide your daughters, ladies.] My phone started vibrating. Hundreds of messages from burner accounts. Death threats. Slurs. Someone even leaked my dorm number. By noon, my door had been spray-painted with “DIE TRASH” and a bloody tampon was hung on the handle. I sat in my room, watching the comments roll in. It was a mirror of my past life, but with one difference: I wasn’t drinking myself into a stupor this time. My phone rang. It was the Matriarch. My mother, CEO of the Whitaker Group. “Cade, explain this. Our stock dropped two points this morning because of your little stunt.” “It’s a legal matter, Mother.” “I don’t care if she stole the Crown Jewels,” her voice was a whip. “You will issue a statement immediately. You will say the delivery was a gift for a student event and there was a ‘misunderstanding.’ Then you will go to the precinct and drop the charges. If you don’t, I will freeze every account in your name and strip you of your inheritance. Do you understand me?” In the face of the Whitaker brand, my dignity was less than dust. In my first life, I worshipped her approval. I folded. I apologized. And she threw me away anyway once I was no longer “useful.” “Did you hear me, Cade? Are you mute?” I gripped the phone, a slow smile spreading across my face. “I hear you, Mother. I’ll hold a live-streamed press conference tomorrow morning at ten to ‘clear the air.’” “Good. Madison’s family has been briefed. She’ll be there by your side to show a united front. Don’t mess this up.” I hung up and looked out at the city lights. A statement? Oh, I was going to give them a statement. But it wasn’t going to be an apology. The campus auditorium was packed the next morning. My mother’s PR team had already seeded the “apology” narrative online. Madison was there in an elegant white suit, looking like a modern saint. She caught me backstage. “I’m glad you’ve come to your senses, Cade,” she said, her voice dripping with condescension. “Layla has suffered enough. Just be a man, apologize gracefully, and we can move past this. Our engagement stands, provided you play your part.” She reached out to straighten my tie. I caught her wrist and shoved it away. “Don’t touch me. You’re getting your ‘Saint’ suit dirty.” Her face hardened. “Cade, what is wrong with you? I’m trying to save you!” “You’re trying to save your social standing,” I retorted. I walked out onto the stage. The flashes were blinding. The livestream viewer count hit a million within seconds. The chat was a waterfall of hate: [KILLER CADE!] [ABUSIVE RICH BOY!] I sat at the mic, calm as a dead sea. The PR director was frantically signaling me to read the teleprompter. I acted out of impulse… I misunderstood Miss Layla’s intentions… the delivery was a gift… I picked up the printed script. The room went silent. “Everyone wants the truth,” I said into the camera. “And I think it’s time we get it all out in the open.” I took the script and ripped it in half. Then I ripped it again, letting the pieces flutter to the floor like snow. I pulled a thumb drive from my pocket and plugged it into the podium’s laptop. “An apology? Not in this lifetime.” “Instead, let’s watch a short film.” The PR director turned ghost-white and lunged for the power cord, but I’d hired my own security—three massive guys who blocked the stage like a wall. “Sit down,” I barked. The authority in my voice stopped the room cold. The screen flickered to life. The chat, which had been a torrent of abuse, suddenly stuttered into silence. The screen didn’t show Layla crying over a bowl of ramen. It showed a high-resolution spreadsheet of bank statements and social media screenshots. “This is Layla,” I said, using a laser pointer. “Last month, she claimed she couldn’t afford feminine hygiene products. That same week, she sold a limited-edition designer bag on a luxury resale site for four thousand dollars.” I clicked to the next slide. “And here she is at an underground ‘Elite Club’ in the city. That’s an eight-hundred-dollar bottle of Cristal in her hand. She’s not a starving student. She’s a lifestyle influencer who ‘sources’ her luxury from ‘stupid rich boys’ like me.” The video changed. It was a clear, high-definition clip from a hidden camera in the dining hall kitchen. Layla was there, unpacking a stolen delivery bag, taking photos for her Instagram. “This sushi looks expensive,” her voice rang out clearly through the speakers. “I’ll post it and say I bought it. The simps will eat it up.” She dumped a tray of expensive sashimi into the trash after taking the photo. “God, raw fish is gross. But as long as I look like a ‘rich girl’ on TikTok, who cares? These men are so easy to play. If they catch me, I’ll just cry. They always fall for the tears.”

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My wife told me she was drowning in debt. She begged me to fake my own death so her creditors would back off. But on the day of my funeral, peering through a hairline fracture in the wood of my casket, I saw something that turned my blood to ice. My wife’s “great lost love”—the man she’d spent our entire marriage pining for—was standing at the altar. And he was wearing my face. The priest’s voice droned through the chapel, reciting the final rites for a man named Roman. My “fake” funeral had just become Roman’s very real ticket to a new life. My body went rigid. A cold, paralyzing dread seeped into my marrow. I realized then, with a clarity that shattered my heart, that Becca didn’t just want me gone. She wanted me dead. I tried to thrash, to scream, but the lid had been hammered shut with terrifying finality. My mouth was sealed tight with heavy-duty duct tape. Through the tiny gap in the wood, I saw the man with my face lean down. His eyes, usually so full of practiced sorrow, were glittering with a jagged, triumphant malice. “Glenn,” he whispered, his voice muffled by the mahogany. “Becca isn’t broke. She never was. She just needed a body to put in the ground so I could take your life.” I died in that box, clawing at the lid until my fingernails tore away, gasping for air that never came. My last moments were spent leaving bloody, desperate gouges in the wood that no one would ever see. After I was gone, he stepped into my shoes. He took my wealth, my reputation, my everything, while I was dumped in a nameless grave in the middle of nowhere. Then, I opened my eyes. I was back. It was the night before the funeral. … “What are you doing just standing there? Get in the damn casket.” Becca’s voice, sharp and impatient, cut through the silence of the room. I blinked, my vision blurring as I looked around. The black drapes, the smell of lilies cloying and heavy, the polished mahogany box resting on its trestles. It hit me like a physical blow. I was back. In my past life, Becca told me her investments had tanked. I’d liquidated every asset I had, emptied my 401(k), and sold my soul to help her, but she claimed it wasn’t enough. She convinced me to sign a debt-assumption agreement and then staged this “exit strategy.” She’d told me it was the only way to save us. In reality, it was the only way to save Roman—the man she’d never stopped loving, the man she blamed me for “ruining.” I forced myself to breathe. I swallowed the bile rising in my throat and managed a single, hollow word. “Fine.” A flicker of relief crossed Becca’s face, though her eyes remained cold, professional. “Just get used to the space,” she said, her tone clipped. “I made some soup. I’ll go get a bowl for you before we settle in for the night.” She turned and walked toward the kitchen. I didn’t lie down like a lamb to the slaughter this time. The moment she was gone, I sat up, covering my nose and mouth with my sleeve. In my first life, I thought the soup had been drugged. But as I sat there, I realized the scent was coming from inside the box. The silk lining was damp, saturated with high-grade ether. If I had stayed in there for even two minutes, I would have drifted off into that same dark sleep, never to wake up again. It was a surgical, heartless plan. I climbed out of the casket, my movements silent and frantic. I followed her toward the kitchen, staying in the shadows. I wanted to see her face. I wanted to see the mask slip. I reached the door just as a sound drifted out—a low, rhythmic moan that made my skin crawl. I peered through the crack in the door. My wife wasn’t making soup. She was wrapped in the arms of the man who was supposed to be in hiding. “Becca, babe,” Roman whispered, his hands roaming over her with a possessive heat. “Is that loser in the box yet?” “Roman, stop,” she giggled, a sound I hadn’t heard from her in years. “He does whatever I tell him. He’s already under.” Roman let out a dark, arrogant laugh. “Perfect. He actually thinks you’re in debt. He has no idea this is all just payback for what he did to me.” Becca sighed, leaning her head against his chest. “Don’t be mad about the past, Roman. When he caught us back then… he had so much power, so much money. I had to tell him you forced yourself on me. I didn’t have a choice.” “And I spent years in a cell because of that lie,” Roman growled, though his tone was softening. “Which is why I’m giving you his life now,” she whispered. “The ether will keep him out. Go in there, tie him up, and nail it shut. Tomorrow, he dies, and everything he owns becomes yours.” As Roman lifted his head, the moonlight hit his face. It was uncanny. The same jawline, the same brow—he had spent the last year undergoing surgeries to become my double. Fury, hot and blinding, surged through me. For three years, I had lived in a sexless, miserable marriage because she claimed she was “traumatized” by the “assault” I’d rescued her from. I had endured her verbal abuse, her spending rages, and the slow dismantling of my company, all because I felt guilty for her pain. I had sacrificed my family’s legacy, sold my grandfather’s estate, all to save a woman who was currently planning my murder with her lover. I watched Roman head toward the funeral parlor. I followed him, my shadow merging with the dark. He wanted a disappearing act? Fine. I’d make sure Roman’s funeral was the real deal. Roman walked up to the casket. He didn’t open it immediately. Instead, he stood over it, his face twisted in a sneer of pure hatred. “Glenn, you bastard,” he spat. “Remember when I begged you for mercy at the sentencing? You looked me in the eye and told the judge to give me the maximum. You stole years of my life.” He laughed, a jagged, ugly sound. “Since you’re about to be worm-food, I’ll tell you a secret. That one time Becca let you touch her three years ago? That was my idea. I wanted to see if you could even manage it.” My teeth ground together so hard I thought they might shatter. “You actually got her pregnant, didn’t you? A real little miracle. Do you want to know what happened to that baby, Glenn? Becca didn’t miscarry. She came to see me on my work release, and we decided we didn’t want anything of yours living in this world. We got rid of it together.” I felt the world tilt. The air left my lungs. The child I had mourned for years—the loss I had blamed myself for—had been murdered by the two people I trusted most. “But hey, you’ll never hear this. You’re already gone.” Roman smirked and threw back the lid of the casket. His eyes went wide. His breath hitched. “What the… where is he?” The room was silent. He spun around, his pulse visible in his neck. He looked right at the corner where I was standing. “Glenn?” he stammered, his voice climbing an octave. “How are you… why aren’t you in the box?” The rage that had been simmering in my chest finally erupted. I didn’t give him a chance to move. I lunged, grabbing a handful of his hair and slamming his face into the edge of the mahogany casket. There was a sickening crunch as his nose shattered. Blood sprayed across the white silk lining. Before he could scream, I shoved a wad of duct tape over his mouth and tackled him into the box. I used the zip ties I’d grabbed from the garage to bind his hands and feet. He thrashed like a landed fish, muffled grunts of terror vibrating through the wood. The lid was heavy, and he was fighting with the strength of a desperate man. Just as I was struggling to hold it down, a voice cut through the room. “Glenn?!” I froze. Becca was standing in the doorway, a heavy framing hammer in her hand, her face a mask of icy resolve. Roman’s eyes pleaded with her. He thought his savior had arrived. I didn’t look at him. I turned toward her, mimicking Roman’s arrogant posture, and let out a low, shaky laugh. “Becca, it’s me. It’s Roman.” She paused, squinting through the dim light. I had the same build, the same face, and Roman’s clothes. She stepped closer, her expression softening into something disturbingly tender. “Roman? God, the resemblance is so perfect I almost scared myself.” Inside the box, the real Roman went still, a horrific realization dawning in his eyes. He began to thrash even harder, the casket groaning under the strain. Becca’s face hardened. She walked over and swung the hammer, slamming it down on the lid right above where his head would be. “Shut up!” she screamed at the box. The sound of wood splintering and a muffled shriek echoed through the room. Roman curled into a ball inside, his jaw likely broken by the force of the blow. Becca looked at me, her eyes shining with a chilling devotion. “Glenn, I tried to make this easy for you with the ether. Why do you have to make me hurt you?” I didn’t say a word. I just watched her. She thought I was Roman. She thought the man she was about to bury alive was her “unwanted” husband. She pulled a roll of industrial tape from her pocket and smoothed it over the seams of the lid. Then, she looked at me and smiled. “Help me with the nails, honey. Let’s put Glenn to rest for good.” I watched her, stroke after stroke, drive the nails into the wood, sealing her soulmate into his own grave. I couldn’t wait to see her face when she realized who she had actually killed. The service was held at the small chapel next to the crematorium. By the time Becca and I arrived, the “mourners” were already thin on the ground. There was no real grief here. The few relatives Roman had were clearly in on the scam. They nodded at me—at the man they thought was Roman—with knowing grins. “After today, you two can finally be a real couple,” one of them whispered, clapping me on the shoulder. “That bastard Glenn held you back for way too long.” Becca squeezed my hand, her palm sweaty. “Roman, we’re almost there. Aren’t you happy?” I remained silent for a long moment before asking, “Becca, did it have to end like this? If you’d just asked for a divorce, I’m sure he would have given it to you.” She frowned, her grip tightening. “Don’t start with that, Roman. Are you still guilty about the trial? I stayed with him to bleed him dry for you. Everything he had is ours now. It’s your compensation.” She reached into her designer bag and pulled out a gold card, sliding it into my hand. “Here. This is what I’ve been siphoning from his accounts over the last three years. Happy now?” I took the card, my fingers trembling. I started to laugh, a single tear escaping and rolling down my cheek. I was so happy, Becca. Happy to realize what a fool I’d been. I had loved her for ten years. I had thought her spending was a coping mechanism for her “trauma.” I had sold my family’s history, ignored my grandfather’s dying wish to keep our land, all to fund her secret life with another man. I looked at the casket where Roman lay, likely suffocating in the dark. “Becca,” I said, my voice thick with a dark irony. “I think I’ve changed my mind. Let’s not bother with a burial. Let’s just send him straight to the furnace.” The casket vibrated violently. The people around us looked away, pretending not to notice. “Burning’s better,” a loud, gravelly voice echoed from behind us. “A predator like him deserves to turn to ash.” I turned. My father-in-law, Arthur, was walking toward us. He stood by the casket, his face twisted in a sneer. “This animal hurt my daughter. Dying is too good for him.” He was cursing Roman’s name, but his eyes were on me, filled with a conspiratorial wink. He thought he was cursing me. I had treated this man like my own father. I had paid his medical bills, taken him on vacations, and respected him. Why did he hate me so much? Arthur reached out and nudged the casket with his foot. His expression shifted. He frowned, pushing it again. “Wait. Something’s wrong. This box… it feels too light.” The casket began to thrash again, a desperate, rhythmic banging against the wood. Arthur looked at me, then back at the box. “Is it possible… did we get the wrong guy in there?” The room went still. Becca hissed under her breath, “Dad, stop it! I locked him in myself last night. You know Roman is my savior—if I thought for a second I’d put him in danger, I’d kill myself!” But Arthur’s suspicion didn’t fade. “I built this box myself, Becca. I had Glenn lie in it weeks ago to ‘check the fit’ as a joke. This weight isn’t right.” He reached for the lid, his eyes hard. “Dad! If you open that now, you’ll ruin everything!” Becca grabbed his arm. “Once the furnace starts, Glenn’s life belongs to us. Roman can live under his name, and no one will ever know. Do you want to risk a scene now with all these people outside?” I stepped in, my voice calm. “Becca’s right. This is the transition period. We can’t afford any mistakes.” Arthur looked around at the curious glances from the staff. “Fine. But let’s get it to the fire. Now.” Roman’s muffled screams were becoming more frantic. Becca rushed over to the small air-slit she’d left and poured a large bottle of ether directly inside. The thrashing slowed, then stopped. Becca whispered to the wood, her voice devoid of emotion. “Don’t hate me, Glenn. Love is about who was there first. You have no idea what Roman sacrificed for me when we were kids. You sent him to prison. This is just the world correcting itself.” I listened to her, my mind spinning. Roman sacrificed for her when they were kids? I had investigated Roman years ago. He grew up in Europe. Becca had never left the States as a child. But I remembered something else. When I was a boy, staying with my grandfather in the mountains, my father and I had rescued a father and daughter who were lost in a storm. During the rescue, I had fallen down a ravine and shattered my leg. My father… he had drowned trying to get us across the creek. I looked at Becca. Then at Arthur. Arthur was the one who told me Becca had been assaulted in that hotel room. He was the one who pushed for the police report. He knew Roman. He knew their history. Why would he do this? As the funeral staff began to slide the casket toward the furnace, they pulled the body out to prepare it for the tray. Arthur’s brow furrowed deeper. He stepped forward, putting a hand on the shroud, weighing the body. “Becca,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “The weight… it’s all wrong. It’s too light.” “Dad, shut up!” Becca snapped. “I need to see his face,” Arthur insisted, his hand reaching for the cloth. Becca blocked him, her face pale. “Are you crazy? Someone will see!” The staff were starting to look over, confused. Arthur’s face was a mask of agonizing indecision. He didn’t want to get caught, but his gut was screaming at him. In the end, he let his greed win. He stood back and watched as the body was pushed into the maw of the crematorium. The fire roared to life with a deafening whoosh. Through the observation window, we watched the flames lick the shroud. Becca leaned against me, her voice trembling with excitement. “It’s over, Roman. He’s finally paying what he owes us.” But Arthur was pressed against the glass, his eyes wide. Suddenly, a flash of silver caught the light inside the furnace. Arthur’s breath hitched. “The bracelet!” he screamed, pointing a shaking finger at the flames. “Becca, that’s the bracelet you gave Roman!” Becca turned white. “No, Dad, you’re seeing things.” But as the heat intensified, the flesh melted away. The silver chain fell to the floor of the kiln. The initials engraved on the inside—B.M.—were clearly visible for a split second before the heat warped them. Becca spun around to look at me, her eyes filled with a dawning, horrific realization.

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I fell completely in love with my best friend’s older brother. To make him love me back, I did a lot of incredibly stupid things. My best friend sighed and warned me: “Give it up. My brother is cold-blooded. He’s a complete jerk.” Even he told me straight to my face that we would never happen in this lifetime. Then, I got into a car accident. When I woke up, I had completely forgotten everything about chasing him for years. When he came to visit me in the hospital with my best friend, I smiled sweetly and called him “Brother.” Later, I brought my new boyfriend to his birthday party. That night, he cornered me, gripping my chin, glaring at me like a feral animal. “Stop calling me ‘Brother’.” 1 Harper still found it baffling that I had ever fallen for her brother. So, even after I woke up from the crash, she wouldn’t stop nagging me. “Since you have amnesia now, make the most of it. Don’t go falling for someone who isn’t worth your time.” She handed me a peeled apple. I took a bite. It was pretty crisp. Just then, the hospital room door opened, and a handsome face walked in wearing a white coat. It was my attending physician, Dr. Liam Sterling. His eyes narrowed slightly in a smile, bringing a comforting warmth, like a gentle spring breeze. He looked at me, beaming. “Looks like someone is ready to be discharged.” I had been stuck in this hospital for almost a month. My body felt numb from lying in bed so long. Hearing those words was like being handed a pardon. I let out a cheer just as the door was pushed open again. This time, the man who walked in was wearing a tailored black business suit. His features were sharp, his aura cold, aloof, and aristocratic. Every step of his leather shoes on the tile radiated unquestionable authority and pressure. Looking at him, a sudden spike of fear rose in my chest. I instinctively looked at Harper. Instead of greeting him happily, she sighed, stood up, and introduced him. “Carter, you’re here.” The apple slipped from my hand, rolling across the floor until it stopped right at his feet. I swallowed hard and offered an awkward smile. “Harper, you never mentioned your brother was this hot!” Harper covered her face with her hands, clearly mortified by my behavior. The man, hearing my comment, merely furrowed his brow slightly. Somehow, that made him look even more brooding and attractive. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret. If only a brother this handsome was my actual brother. While I was busy lamenting internally, the handsome brother spoke up. “Ava, I heard you lost your memory. That’s probably for the best. I’ll treat you just like a little sister, same as Harper.” My eyes instantly lit up. “Thank you, Brother!” Harper dropped her hands, staring at me with a completely blank expression. And he just frowned even deeper. 2 Thanks to Harper’s extensive explanations, I finally learned just how pathetic and obsessive my pursuit of her brother had been. To put it simply, I had been an absolute, unapologetic simp. His name was Carter Hayes, and he was three years older than us. He was in the prime of his career, building his empire. One time, I went with Harper to his office building to find him, and it was love at first sight. Harper sighed, taking a bite of her cake with a tiny spoon. “Honestly, I really have no idea why you were so obsessed with him.” She trailed off, looking like she was holding something back, something too difficult to say out loud. I didn’t really care. She had already said this was all before the amnesia. Maybe my time chasing him was so agonizing that my brain took this accident as a perfect excuse to wipe the slate clean. And that was fine by me. I had forgotten him anyway. “Don’t worry, I promise I’ll treat him exactly like a real older brother from now on.” Seeing her eyes, which looked exactly like Carter’s, I cautiously floated an idea. “Do you think… is it possible that the person I actually had a crush on was you?” Harper rolled her eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck. “I think you need another brain scan.” We joked around, and the topic was quickly brushed aside. But they say when your luck is bad, even drinking cold water will crack a tooth. Right after I swore to the heavens that I harbored absolutely zero romantic thoughts about her brother, Harper spotted him. He was sitting not too far away from us. Just two tables down. He was wearing a casual button-down shirt, the top two buttons undone, his dark hair falling slightly over his forehead. He was staring intently at us. There was a faint, unreadable smile playing in his eyes. I think I realized why I fell in love with him at first sight. Just sitting there, he had the power to make your heart hammer against your ribs. His entire vibe was a mix of effortless wealth and lazy arrogance. The sharp lines of his face were softened by a cool, untouchable detachment. But this time, my heart didn’t flutter. I was just terrified that what we had just been talking about might cause a misunderstanding. I didn’t know why, but right now, looking at him just made me want to run away. The lingering effects of the car crash were seriously no joke. 3 Harper instinctively stood up. She seemed to be genuinely intimidated by her brother. She walked over obediently, keeping her head down, and mumbled, “Hey, Carter.” Seeing her, I quickly tagged along. Hiding behind Harper, I offered a soft, timid greeting: “Hi, Carter.” “Oh? Why isn’t the little sis calling you ‘Carter-bear’ this time?” A guy sitting next to him laughed out loud. He grabbed his drink, took a huge gulp, looking like a total playboy. Harper instinctively threw her arm out, shielding me behind her. That subconscious, protective gesture sent a wave of warmth through my heart. Carter was apparently at a business dinner. Besides the guy who just spoke, the other people at the table were also looking at me with calculating expressions. “She probably realized playing the desperate stalker wasn’t working, so now she’s trying reverse psychology.” One of the women at the table chimed in with a smirk. Then, the woman next to her leaned in and whispered something in her ear. They exchanged a knowing, mocking smile. That kind of behavior was incredibly annoying. But I didn’t take it to heart. Let them talk. I couldn’t hear what they were whispering anyway. And even if they gossiped until the sky fell down, it wasn’t going to take a piece of flesh off me. Harper, on the other hand, was glaring daggers. Just as she opened her mouth to snap back, Carter cut her off. “Why are you here?” His eyes locked onto me, piercing right through me. He was asking me. Did he think we were stalking him and followed him here? I shivered involuntarily and spoke in a tiny voice. “We just read some good reviews online. We’ve never been to this restaurant before.” The implication being: running into him was a pure accident. Harper gathered her courage too. “Carter, you don’t need to be so tense. Ava really did forget all about you.” He let out a low chuckle, his gaze drifting upward, landing on the small square of gauze covering the wound on my forehead. He said cryptically: “Forgetting is a good thing.” I didn’t know if he meant forgetting him. Or forgetting that entire pathetic history of chasing him. But none of that had anything to do with me anymore. Loving him was in the past. Living my life was the present. Starting a new chapter was the future. I flashed a sickeningly sweet smile: “You’re absolutely right, Carter!” The smirk on Carter’s face vanished, settling into a dead, emotionless mask. His dark eyes practically radiated a freezing, biting chill. 4 After that day, I didn’t leave my apartment for almost half a month. When Harper came over to check on me, I was glued to my iPad, completely engrossed in a TV show. It was one of those wildly popular, super-sweet romance dramas. The chemistry between the male and female leads was perfect, and I was absolutely obsessed. The only downside was the agonizingly slow release schedule—only four episodes a week. “Your brain is going to rot watching this garbage.” Harper looked at me with absolute exasperation. “Are you just giving up on life because of what my brother said?” I lay on my stomach on the bed, staring at her with question marks floating around my head. The video was paused right at the exact moment the leads were staring into each other’s eyes, about to kiss. I lazily rolled over. “Giving up on life? What the hell are you talking about?” Harper lay down next to me and asked, “Are you sure it’s not because of my brother?” “You’re making zero sense.” This time, it was my turn to roll my eyes. I shoved the iPad toward her. “Look at this new show I just invested in.” Harper was confused. “Since when did you start investing in TV shows?” “I have no idea.” I scratched my head. “When I woke up in the hospital, the producers were already messaging me. It must have been something I set up before the crash.” Harper nodded. TV production cycles were long; my explanation made perfect sense. Soon enough, she was sucked into the plot, too. When I woke up from a nap, she was staring at me with massive dark circles under her eyes. My mouth twitched. “Don’t tell me you stayed up all night watching that.” She grabbed my arm and shook it aggressively. “Never mind that! Can you please, please take me to the wrap party?!” That was when I found out Harper had not only binge-watched the latest episodes but also gone online to hunt for spoilers and behind-the-scenes gossip. She had found out there was going to be a wrap party for the cast and crew next week. The production team had already sent me an invitation. Since she wouldn’t stop begging, I had no choice but to take her with me. On the night of the party, Harper dressed elegantly and beautifully. She wore a soft, butter-yellow flared dress, her hair styled in loose, glamorous waves cascading down her back. She was naturally gorgeous, and with a touch of light makeup, anyone who didn’t know better would have assumed she was the leading actress. “Tell me the truth. Do you have a crush on the male lead?” Harper slapped my accusing finger away, making a solemn vow. “I can completely separate the character from real life, thank you very much!” If she hadn’t practically sprinted toward him the second we walked in, I might have actually believed her bullshit. But given her net worth, falling for a celebrity wouldn’t be a huge issue anyway. I grabbed a glass of champagne and mingled through the crowd. The instinct for high-society networking was practically baked into my bones; even amnesia couldn’t erase it. But I finally understood why my brain had completely blocked out the memory of investing in this show. Because I spotted the primary, massive financial backer of the series. It was Carter Hayes. I guess the old me saw him investing and threw money at the project just to have an excuse to be close to him. After all, according to Harper… Before the crash, I had the ultimate, terminal case of ‘love-on-the-brain’. His eyes found me through the crowded room. He offered a distant, knowing smirk. He looked so smug and self-assured, as if he was saying: See? I knew you were faking the amnesia. 5 A wave of panic hit me, and I instinctively turned to walk away. I didn’t expect to crash directly into someone. “Careful.” Hearing that familiar, warm tone, I couldn’t help but look up. “Dr. Sterling?” He smiled. “What a coincidence. Are you involved with this production, Ava?” I shook my head. “No, I just invested in it.” Liam’s smile froze for a fraction of a second. “Ava, you certainly throw your money around.” His reaction made me laugh. The little interruption eased my tense nerves significantly. It turned out that because the female lead in the show was a doctor, they needed a professional medical consultant on set. Liam’s grandfather was a highly respected figure in the medical field. But since his grandfather couldn’t make it, he sent Liam in his place. That was how I learned that this seemingly ordinary, unassuming man actually came from a prestigious medical dynasty. The very hospital where I had stayed was owned by his family. “I didn’t realize Dr. Sterling was hiding his light under a bushel.” I raised my glass to toast him. Liam chuckled awkwardly. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” His long, elegant fingers held the crystal flute, the golden liquid swaying inside. The chandelier light hit the glass, making it sparkle. His hands were incredibly slender and refined. I don’t know if it was the alcohol going to my head, but I blurted out, “Dr. Sterling, has anyone ever told you that you have really nice hands?” Liam paused for a second, completely unfazed. Instead, he stepped a fraction closer. “Is it just my hands that are nice, or is it everything else too?” He was standing quite close. His eyes were locked onto mine. A strange, inexplicable feeling started to bloom in the pit of my stomach. My breath hitched for a second. Just as I was about to speak, someone clamped a hand around my wrist and forcefully dragged me out of Liam’s personal space. I looked up and saw Carter’s tightly clenched jaw. His eyes were lowered, his voice rough and gravelly. “This is a public event. Show some restraint.”

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In the morning, Arthur and I finalized our divorce. By the afternoon, he had taken our daughter and boarded a flight back to New York. Staring at the divorce decree in my hands, I realized this piece of paper was the sum total of our five-year marriage. I sold my house in Seattle and quit my job. With that, my last remaining ties to Seattle were severed. On the Amtrak train heading back to my hometown, I received a call from my daughter. She asked why I hadn’t gone with them to New York. I smiled and replied calmly, “Didn’t you cry and scream that you didn’t want me to be your mommy anymore?” “Don’t worry, you’ll have a new mommy very soon.” 01 When I arrived at my hometown, I saw my grandmother standing by the front door, leaning on her cane, looking out for me. Beside her was a cute little girl, staring at me with wide, curious eyes. In the past, whenever I saw a child, I would happily go over and give them a hug. But now… I didn’t like kids anymore. My grandmother told me she was the granddaughter of our neighbor, Mrs. Higgins. The girl’s parents had died in a tragic accident, leaving her as their only child, so she had been sent to live in the country with her grandmother. I nodded, a spark of sympathy igniting in my chest, but I still couldn’t bring myself to like children. The little girl looked at me with her big, round eyes and said, “Auntie, you’re so pretty.” I forced a tight smile, didn’t reply, and helped my grandmother back into the house. A little while later, Mrs. Higgins came over and took the girl home. In the middle of the night, the blaring sirens of an ambulance woke us up. I opened the door and saw Mrs. Higgins being loaded onto a stretcher. The little girl stood behind them, her face covered in snot and tears. Later, the police took the little girl away. Two days later, my grandmother told me with a heavy sigh that Mrs. Higgins had suffered a massive heart attack and hadn’t made it. I suddenly thought of that poor child, feeling a deep pang of sorrow. I asked my grandmother, “What about the little girl? Does she have any other relatives besides Mrs. Higgins?” My grandmother thought for a moment and told me she seemed to have an uncle in the next county over. I felt a sense of relief. At least the little girl would have a place to stay. The next morning, I opened the front door and found the little girl sitting on our neighbor’s porch, shivering violently. It was obvious. The uncle didn’t want to take her in and had sent her right back. My grandmother looked at my face and told me she wanted to adopt the girl. I didn’t say a word. I just took the little girl’s hand and marched straight to the police station to figure out her situation. In the end, I filled out the adoption paperwork. From that day on, a girl named Luna was officially part of our family. 02 After a month of chaotic adjustments, I finally settled down in my hometown. Luna used to be a very cheerful girl, but losing her family members one after another had taken a heavy toll on her. She went from a girl who loved to laugh to someone who was quiet and rigidly serious. Even though she was so young, she acted incredibly mature for her age. She learned to read my moods, helped me with chores, and even followed my grandmother into the vegetable garden to help carry her basket. Every time I saw how incredibly well-behaved Luna was, I couldn’t help but think of my own child, far away in New York. The little princess the Sterling family held in the palm of their hands: Chloe Sterling. If Chloe wanted to eat fresh steak, someone would probably buy her a whole ranch. If Chloe wanted to go swimming, someone would gift her a luxury resort. Luna often woke up crying in the middle of the night, asking if I was going to abandon her too. I would hold her tightly, stroke her hair, and answer, “No. Mommy wants to live a happy life, and I don’t want to make the people around me sad.” “So, Luna, Mommy is going to make sure you’re always happy. Do you believe Mommy?” She stayed silent for a long time, then hugged me fiercely. “Mommy, Luna will stay with you forever. Luna wants to make Mommy happy, too.” Time slipped away, little by little. Luna grew up day by day. When she turned seven, Luna started elementary school. For years, I picked her up and dropped her off every single day, rain or shine. I held Luna’s hand as we walked home. She was always very quiet on the way. Sometimes, when she saw other little girls throwing tantrums at their parents, Luna would just glance at them and tell me that people need to stay calm. I couldn’t help but laugh. Luna was becoming more and more mature every day. Just as we walked into our front yard, a little girl in a frilly tutu came sprinting toward me. “Mommy!” I took a step back, and Luna caught the little girl, who almost tripped. “Little girl, you have the wrong person.” I looked up at the man sitting across from my grandmother. “Sir, I think you have the wrong house.” Chloe instantly burst into loud, hysterical tears. I looked at my grandmother, who sighed helplessly and pulled Luna inside the house. The year I returned to my hometown, I told my grandmother I would never contact the Sterling family again. My grandmother knew my past and didn’t ask any questions. Later, after we adopted Luna, my grandmother rarely ever thought about the great-granddaughter with the nasty temper. Arthur walked over to me and stared, completely silent. I stepped to the side, leaving the path to the door open, silently telling them to leave. Chloe, seeing Luna go inside, wiped her tears and hugged my leg. “Mommy, I missed you so much! Please come back to New York with us!” I smiled gently, patted her head, took her hand, and led her outside the gate. I turned to Arthur. “Mr. Sterling. Let’s talk outside.” 03 Looking at Arthur’s familiar face, memories of our past flooded back. Everything from before felt like a story out of a cheesy novel—interesting but ultimately meaningless. My grandfather and Arthur’s grandfather had been in the military together when they were young. The story goes that my grandfather was honorably discharged early because he took a bullet saving Arthur’s grandfather’s life. Because of that, before my grandfather passed away, our families were incredibly close. The year I graduated from college, rumor had it that Arthur had beaten up the son of a prominent family in New York. The Sterling family, afraid of retaliation, sent Arthur to Seattle to lay low for a while. That day, I got a call from my grandfather asking me to pick someone up from the airport. As a recent grad, I had been running around all day doing interviews and was completely exhausted. Without even having time to wash up, I quickly gathered my things and rushed to the airport. When I arrived, Arthur had already been waiting at the entrance for a long time, looking incredibly impatient. He was sitting on his suitcase, casually scrolling through his phone, smiling one second and frowning the next. The moment I saw him, all my exhaustion from the day vanished. A boy shining as brightly as the summer sun is the easiest thing in the world to fall for. For me, a secret crush was just a pursuit—trying to get closer and closer to him, knowing I might never reach the finish line. I knew the gap between our families was like an uncrossable chasm, but I couldn’t stop my heart from racing. After Arthur spent half a month with my grandparents in the country, he got incredibly bored. Not long after, my grandfather called to tell me Arthur was moving to the city and asked me to help him find an apartment. I knew my grandparents were getting older and their lifestyle was completely different from Arthur’s. But I was so swamped with work that I completely forgot about it until I found Arthur standing outside my apartment door. Arthur didn’t complain. Once he found out I lived alone, he casually dragged his suitcase in and moved into my rented apartment. During the time we lived together, I learned that he had a childhood sweetheart back home. The whole reason he was exiled to Seattle was because his sweetheart had been harassed by a drunk friend of that prominent family. Furious, Arthur beat the guy up, but the other family had deep connections. Left with no choice, the Sterling family sent him to Seattle while they used their connections to smooth things over and beg for peace. Their childhood romance was the kind that made people envious. And as a bystander, I constantly heard about their passionate love, their cold wars, and their explosive arguments. During the three months Arthur lived in Seattle, he left traces of his existence all over my apartment. One night, knowing Arthur had gotten into another massive fight with his sweetheart, I assumed he had gone to bed early. When I opened the door, I found Arthur passed out on the floor. I quickly helped him onto the sofa and went to the kitchen to get him some water. In his drunken haze, Arthur pulled me into his arms and demanded to know why I had brought him home. In the chaos, I still don’t know exactly how the mistake happened. 04 I still remember the look in his eyes when he woke up. Cold, even ruthless. As if I was the one who had wronged him. Even though I had dated before, this was my first time doing something like this. That day, under his freezing glare, I ignored the soreness in my body and fled the apartment. That night, the name he kept calling out was hers. It was so passionate and lingering. Even during the years we were married, he never called my name like that. It truly was: The falling flowers yearn for the flowing stream, but the unfeeling stream cares not for the flowers. 05 There was a massive oak tree outside my grandmother’s house. In the summer, people would gather under its shade to cool off. But now it was late autumn. Aside from the falling leaves, there was only a chilling silence in the air. Arthur and I stood under the tree, the withered landscape stretching out behind us. “What do you want to say?” Arthur stared straight at me. “Have you forgotten the terms of our divorce agreement?” “What do you mean?” “Our marriage ended four years ago.” “Over the years, I’ve followed the agreement to the letter. I’ve never once tried to contact you.” “And based on Chloe’s reaction, someone in your family has been talking about me a lot.” “She was only three when we separated. There’s no way she would recognize me instantly like this.” Arthur took a step forward, turning to look at Chloe, who was playing nearby. “My grandfather constantly reminds her about you and shows her your pictures.” “If that’s the case, why did you show up at my house?” Arthur offered a faint smile. “We went to the house in the city and found out you sold it.” “So I brought her here to your hometown to find you.” I closed my eyes briefly and said, “You know you aren’t welcome here.” “I’ll let it slide this time, but take her and leave. Now.” I was a strict mother, but Chloe had been spoiled rotten by the Sterling family for years. If we spent any real time together, she would only hate me more. It was better for her to leave now. Arthur didn’t say anything. He just took Chloe’s hand and left. I thought that was the end of it. Two days later, Luna told me that Chloe had transferred to her school and was even in her class. When I heard that, I sat on my porch and thought for an entire afternoon. It didn’t matter. I had to keep living my life. I couldn’t let the two of them disrupt my peace. 06 My hometown wasn’t highly developed, but for people who had lived in the city their whole lives, it was like a hidden paradise. During my marriage, I had put my career on hold to be a full-time housewife. But now, I wanted to use my own two hands to build a better future. So, in my hometown, I opened a bed and breakfast, a restaurant, and a cozy little lounge. As more and more people visited the town, my businesses thrived. Influencers frequently came to my places to check in and post photos. Since Arthur hadn’t officially told me about the school transfer, I pretended I didn’t know. Then one day, Chloe was dropped off at my B&B by a chauffeur. The driver told me Arthur was away on a business trip for a few days. Unlike last time, Chloe didn’t throw a tantrum or try to drag me away. She just sat quietly on a stool and did her homework. With my tacit approval, the driver started dropping Chloe off every single day. Chloe looked exactly like me, but her temper and personality were entirely Arthur’s. When she was little, she would only sleep if I held her. Even eating and drinking required me to feed her personally; she wouldn’t touch food from anyone else. Looking at her chubby little face and hearing her sweet voice call me “Mommy”… I felt like all the suffering I had endured was completely worth it. But the moment she realized she didn’t have to depend on me… She learned how to lie. She learned how to throw tantrums at me. She even told me right to my face that she preferred “Auntie Evelyn,” who was always dressed in glamorous, expensive clothes. After Evelyn filled her head with stories of New York’s wealth and splendor… Chloe had angrily demanded: “Mommy, why are you keeping me and Daddy in this poor, ugly place?! I want Auntie Evelyn to take me to New York!” “I don’t like a mommy who just stays at home all day! I want Auntie Evelyn to take me out to play every day!”

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