Category: English

I woke up to the piercing cries of an infant. Opening my eyes, I realized I was lying on a hospital bed right next to my mother, who had just given birth to my baby brother. It hit me instantly. I had been reborn, brought back to the exact day the kidnapper swapped my brother. To confirm my suspicion, I peeked toward the sound of the crying. Sure enough, I saw a strange man roughly yanking the engraved gold baby bracelet off my brother’s wrist and slipping it onto the wrist of his own child. Because his movements were so violent, my real brother started wailing at the top of his lungs. The man, his face twisting with impatience, delivered a brutal slap that knocked the infant unconscious. Sensing something, the man suddenly glanced in my direction. I quickly squeezed my eyes shut, pretending to be fast asleep. In my previous life, to stop him from taking my brother, my three-year-old self had desperately clung to the man’s leg. In response, the criminal kicked me so hard I flew into the wall, shattering several of my ribs. Enduring the agonizing pain, I had screamed for help with everything I had, eventually drawing the attention of the nurses. Furious that I had ruined his plan, the criminal pulled out a knife and slashed it deeply across my face. “You ruined my kid’s chance at a good life, so you don’t get to live a good life either,” he had hissed. From that day on, my face was severely disfigured. I spent a long, agonizing time recovering in the hospital. I didn’t even start first grade until I was nine years old, placed in the same class as the brother I had saved. Throughout my school years, my scars made me the target of relentless bullying and mockery. Even my own parents and the very brother I saved looked at me with undisguised disgust. It was as if my mere existence was an unbearable humiliation to them. I had no choice but to study like my life depended on it. I wanted to get into a top-tier university, secure a good job, and escape my family to live my own life. But I never could have imagined what would happen during our senior year. After I successfully secured our high school’s sole early-admission recommendation to an Ivy League university, my brother ran me over with his car. All for the sake of Chloe Evans, a poor student our family had been financially sponsoring. All because he had fallen in love with her. As I lay dying, he stared down at me with pure venom. “Don’t blame me, Lily. Blame yourself for being so selfish. You should have given the Ivy League spot to Chloe.” He even mocked me. “You ugly freak, you deserved to be disfigured. Everything you’ve suffered is exactly what you deserve for how you act.” But I was disfigured because I saved him. What shocked me even more was that when my parents found out what he had done, they didn’t blame him for a single second. Instead, they helped him destroy the evidence and cover up my murder. In those final moments, I swore an oath. If I ever got a second chance, I would respect his fate. I would never play the hero again. Now, lying in the hospital bed, I listened as the heavy footsteps faded down the hall and the door clicked shut. When I opened my eyes again, the criminal was gone. And with him, my biological brother. My mother woke up right at that moment. She asked me, “Lily, was your baby brother just crying?” I tilted my head, flashing a sweet, innocent smile. “Was he? I didn’t hear anything, Mommy.” My mother looked slightly confused. “I must have been dreaming.” A week later, my mother and my new, fake brother—Tyler Harper—were discharged from the hospital. I was enrolled in a local preschool. This time, without the scars, my teachers and classmates were incredibly kind to me. There was no bullying. There was no mockery. No one looked at me like I was a monster. I finally had the peaceful, perfect life I always dreamed of. 02 Time flew by, and ten years passed in the blink of an eye. One weekend, our family went to a crowded street carnival. Suddenly, someone bumped hard into Tyler and snatched his new smartphone. I recognized the thief instantly. It was my biological brother. He looked drastically different from my previous life. He was dark, emaciated, and wearing filthy, oversized clothes. He limped heavily as he ran. It was glaringly obvious that he was living a miserable life. The sight of him brought back a sharp memory from my past life. When he and his friends were mocking my disfigured face, I had finally snapped, screaming that he had no right to treat me like that when I took the blade for him. He had just sneered at me. “I never asked you to save me. Someone as brilliant and capable as me would have thrived even if I was raised in a murderer’s house. Stop trying to guilt-trip me.” Seeing how “brilliantly” he was thriving now, a wave of deep relief washed over me. Seeing my parents about to chase after him, I quickly faked a dramatic trip and fell hard onto the pavement. My real brother looked exactly like my father. If my dad caught a good look at his face, he would undoubtedly get suspicious. Unlike my past life, because I was flawless and at the top of my class, my image-obsessed parents actually valued me. They immediately abandoned the chase and rushed to my side. “Lily! Are you okay?!” I watched my biological brother disappear into the dense crowd, letting out a quiet breath. I looked up at my parents. “I’m fine, my hands just got a little scraped. It hurts a bit.” Meanwhile, my fake brother, Tyler, was absolutely furious about his stolen phone. He cursed loudly, “That piece of trash! If I ever see him again, I swear to God I’ll kill him!” I lowered my eyes and said nothing. The world was a very small place. I needed to make sure I nudged things in the right direction. 03 Tyler spent the rest of the day scanning the crowds like a hawk. When my parents went to the public restrooms, Tyler suddenly grabbed my arm. “Lily, I see that little rat.” Before I could say anything, he shot off like a rocket into the crowd. Seeing my parents hadn’t come out yet, I sighed in relief and jogged after him. This time, because my real brother had his guard down, Tyler easily cornered him in a narrow alleyway. Trapped, my real brother started cursing aggressively. “You filthy rich snobs! You have so much money, why are you being so cheap?! It’s just one phone, why do you have to be so petty?!” His temper was exactly the same as in his previous life. He loved playing the victim and blaming everyone else for his own actions. Tyler let out a dark laugh. “So because we have money, we’re supposed to just let people rob us?” My real brother put on a shameless, defiant smirk. “Alright, shut up. I gave the phone back, so let me go. I’m a minor. The cops can’t do anything to me anyway.” Tyler wasn’t the type to swallow an insult. He inherited his biological father’s reckless, violent temperament. He hated studying and loved picking fights. He kicked my real brother hard in the stomach, slamming him into the brick wall. “What a coincidence. I’m a minor too. As long as I don’t beat you to death, the cops can’t do anything to me either.” Panic finally flashed across my real brother’s face. I watched coldly from the sidelines. Just like he had coldly watched his friends torment me in our past life. Just as Tyler raised his fist to keep hitting him, a young girl sprinted into the alley and threw herself in front of my real brother. “Stop hitting him! Mason’s dad is severely ill! He had no other choice, that’s why he took your phone!” What an absolute, bold-faced lie. Arthur Davies, Mason’s father, had never been severely ill a day in his life. When I got a clear look at the girl’s face, my brow furrowed. What a coincidence. I knew this girl too. It was Chloe Evans—the poor scholarship student from my past life, and the exact reason I was murdered. 04 I wasn’t actually surprised she was here. In my past life, Chloe and my fake brother, Tyler, were childhood sweethearts who grew up together. Now that Mason and Tyler’s identities were swapped, Mason had naturally become Chloe’s childhood sweetheart instead. Tears welled up in Chloe’s eyes as she looked at Tyler pitifully. “I made Mason give your phone back. Please, just let him go. Please?” Tyler was a notorious terror who never listened to anyone. But the moment he saw Chloe crying, he visibly softened. “Alright, fine. Stop crying. I’m not totally unreasonable.” For a second, I felt like I had been pulled back into my previous life. After I won the Ivy League recommendation, Chloe had cried exactly like this to Mason. Mason, acting like a thug, was furious that his precious childhood friend was crying. He rallied a group of his delinquent friends and ordered them to assault me. His excuse was that he needed to “teach me a lesson” so I wouldn’t covet things that didn’t belong to me. I fought back with everything I had, but their filthy hands grabbed at me relentlessly. It wasn’t until one of them ripped the medical mask off my face, exposing my horrific scars, that they backed away in disgust. “What an ugly freak.” “I wouldn’t touch this trash even if you paid me.” “Damn, looking at that face makes me wanna throw up.” My ruined face was the only thing that saved me from being assaulted that day. When I got home, I scrubbed myself in the shower for four straight hours. I scrubbed until my skin was bleeding raw, then collapsed in the tub, sobbing uncontrollably. I thought I had survived the worst of it. But after that, I suffered from severe night terrors. Every time I closed my eyes, I relived that alleyway. The ugly faces, the sickening smell, the slimy hands grabbing at my clothes. Whenever I saw a man on the street, I would tremble and feel violently nauseous. I realized then that the trauma would never, ever pass. It was suffocatingly disgusting. A cold breeze blew through the alley, snapping me back to the present. I couldn’t suppress a violent shudder. Noticing my pale face, Tyler asked casually, “Lily, what’s wrong?” I glanced at him, burying the deep revulsion in my heart. I was about to say I was fine when Chloe suddenly grabbed my sleeve, dropping to her knees. “Sister, are you refusing to let him go? Please, I’m begging you, just let Mason go. He’s already suffered so much.” I stared down at her for a long time. She really hadn’t changed at all. She still loved positioning herself as the helpless victim, using tears to morally blackmail everyone around her. Even Tyler tried to persuade me. “Lily, let’s just drop it.” My expression remained perfectly calm. “I have no interest in fighting with a kid. However, I need to speak to his mother. I need to warn her to discipline her son properly. Right now he’s just a petty thief, but if she keeps letting him run wild, who knows what kind of monster he’ll become.” Hearing that I was going to his mother, the fearless, arrogant Mason finally showed a flicker of genuine terror in his eyes. 05 It didn’t take long to find his current mother, Brenda Davies. She was a solidly built, tough-looking middle-aged woman. The moment she saw Tyler and me, sheer panic flashed across her face. It was incredibly obvious that she knew the truth about the hospital swap. She nervously checked the street behind us. Once she realized we were alone, she forced herself to calm down. “What… what are you doing here?” When I explained why we were there, she let out a massive, visible sigh of relief. “Don’t worry. I will discipline him properly.” The moment she said that, Mason flinched, shrinking into himself. I nodded, making my tone deliberately meaningful. “Your son got extremely lucky today running into me and my brother. If my parents had caught him, they wouldn’t have been so kind. They wouldn’t have let him off easily.” Brenda’s face darkened as the implication hit her. “I understand. I’ll keep a tight leash on him. I promise I won’t let him wander around making a fool of himself anymore.” She grabbed Mason by the collar and violently shoved him into the house, locking the front door behind him. “You sit in there and think about what you’ve done.” After locking him away, she turned to Tyler with a fawning, overly eager smile. “Young man, would you like to come in and sit for a bit? I just bought some fresh fruit, and I have candy inside.” Tyler looked at her with pure disgust. “I’m not going in there. Your house looks filthy.” With that, he turned and started walking away. Brenda looked like she wanted to chase after him to say more, but she ultimately stopped herself. She turned and walked into her house. Within seconds, the muffled sounds of Mason howling in agony echoed from inside. Brenda was taking out all her frustration over Tyler’s rejection directly on Mason. As Tyler and I walked out of the neighborhood, Chloe waved at us from a distance, smiling her sweetest, most innocent smile. “Bye, pretty sister! Bye, handsome boy!” Pretty sister? Hearing that come out of Chloe’s mouth was incredibly ironic. In my past life, when my brother ran me over with his car, she was sitting right there in the passenger seat. As I lay on the pavement, bleeding out and struggling to breathe, she stepped out of the car, leaned down close to my ear, and whispered her final words to me: “Ugly freak, you brought this entirely on yourself. You didn’t listen to Mason’s warnings, so you can just go ahead and die.” Right now, seeing Chloe’s sweet, lingering farewell, Tyler suddenly stopped and turned around, looking like he wanted to run back and talk to her. I grabbed his arm tightly. “Enough. Let’s go. Mom and Dad are going to start panicking if they can’t find us.” In just a few short minutes, Tyler had already developed a crush on Chloe. If I let them interact any further, who knows what kind of psychotic things he would do for her in the future. I had absolutely no intention of watching my past life repeat itself. Tyler reluctantly followed me away. Because of that, he didn’t see the innocent, sweet smile drop completely from Chloe’s face the second we turned our backs. The dark, calculating look in her eyes looked nothing like a harmless little bunny.

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I didn’t expect the jumbotron camera to pan to me. When my face was projected onto the massive screen, Liam’s voice noticeably faltered mid-song. After the concert ended, my phone buzzed with a text message: [What’s wrong? Regretting it now?] I stared at that familiar number, frozen for a long time. In the end, I didn’t reply, simply slipping the phone back into my coat pocket. The notification chimed twice more in rapid succession: [Didn’t you say you’d never settle for someone like me in a million years? Maya Vance?] [It’s too late for regrets anyway. Now I’m the one who looks down on vain gold-diggers like you.] … I didn’t reply. A long time later, my phone pinged again. It was from Liam: [Stop peeping into my life acting like a fan.] I hadn’t booked a hotel. From the stadium where Liam performed back to my apartment, it took nine hours and thirteen minutes, transferring through various trains and buses. So, nine hours and thirteen minutes later, Liam received a text from me: [Liam, I wish you a bright and beautiful future.] After the text sent successfully, I mixed a handful of brightly colored pills into a slice of cake and swallowed it all down. … My suicide attempt failed. The neighbor from the next apartment over came to borrow some salt, found me, and rushed me to the ER. I hadn’t set up an emergency contact, and my phone book didn’t even have a single entry for “Mom” or “Dad.” Desperate, the hospital staff called the last person I had contacted: Liam. When I woke up, Liam was sitting beside me. He was still wearing his concert outfit, the stage makeup only half-wiped off. His glamorous appearance starkly contrasted with the sterile, glaringly white hospital room. Seeing my eyes open, Liam spoke: “You’re awake?” I asked, “Why are you here?” Liam crossed his arms, wearing an expression that said he had already figured it all out: “Drop the act, Maya. Didn’t you tell the hospital to call me?” I lowered my eyes: “I didn’t.” He uncrossed his legs and leaned in closer, saying: “You clearly have so much family, so many relatives and friends. Tell me, Maya, why did the hospital just happen to call the ex-boyfriend you haven’t spoken to in three years? “Faking a suicide is just pathetic. Even if you saw my success and regretted your choices, you could have at least picked a classier way to try and win me back. Maybe then I’d have given you a second glance. But pulling a stunt like this only makes me despise you more.” Liam’s words hammered against my eardrums one by one. My chest tightened painfully, yet I couldn’t utter a single word in my defense. He stood up from the chair, looking down at me. My face was pale from the stomach pumping. His thin lips parted again: “Next time you want to kill yourself, pick a more efficient method. Taking sleeping pills is just a cry for attention. It won’t kill you.” With that, Liam turned and left, seemingly unwilling to spare me another glance. Half my face buried in the pillow, I finally managed to defend myself with one sentence: “It wasn’t sleeping pills.” What kind of pills were they? I didn’t even know myself. I just knew sleeping pills were hard to get a prescription for, and even if I did, the dosage wouldn’t be nearly enough to be lethal. So I just picked the cheapest over-the-counter meds I could find and bought a random assortment. On the way home from the concert, for the first time in over twenty years, I bought myself a beautiful, delicate little cake. The pills were too bitter; I needed something sweet to wash them down. But it was late when I got back, and the bakery only had one chocolate cake left… and it wasn’t sweet at all. My not-so-long life was coming to an end, and I didn’t even get to taste a little sweetness at the very finish line. 02 Liam was photographed at the hospital last night, and rumors started swirling that I was his secret girlfriend. Because it was a hospital, and someone leaked that I had my stomach pumped, plus others claiming they saw me at the concert, the speculation ran wild. Add in the haters spreading fake news, and the rumors quickly escalated into absurdity. Things like, “Liam sleeps with fans and abandons them, driving the girl to suicide out of despair.” Overnight, Liam plummeted from “America’s Boyfriend” to a universally despised scumbag. I looked at the trending topics that refused to drop, pulled out my phone, and called Liam. It rang for a long time before he finally answered: “What do you want?” Liam’s voice was hoarse. He had probably been up all night dealing with the fallout. I gripped the phone tightly: “This is my fault. However you need me to clarify things, I will cooperate.” Liam let out a short, cynical laugh on the other end, ignoring my statement and instead asking: “Maya, did you only call because you feel guilty for causing me trouble?” What else? What other reason could there be? Because I was worried about him? Because I was scared? Scared that after three years, his career and his future would be dragged down by me yet again? I couldn’t say it. After a long silence, Liam finally sighed: “Clarifying this isn’t as simple as you think. Wait for my PR team’s instructions. But Maya, you said it yourself—this whole mess started because of you. So no matter what happens, you have to cooperate, even if it means…” “Means what?” I asked. Liam mumbled for a bit before saying: “Never mind, it’s nothing. Keep your phone on. Send me a message every half hour. Otherwise, if you run off and refuse to take responsibility, who am I supposed to complain to?” I wouldn’t run away. And I certainly wouldn’t refuse to take responsibility. I set an alarm and sent Liam a message every thirty minutes. Sometimes it was a random photo I took, sometimes a punctuation mark, sometimes an emoji. But mostly, I asked him how the situation was going. Liam never replied to any of them. Only when I repeatedly asked him about the situation did he finally send a warning: “Ask that question one more time, and we switch to FaceTime every half hour.” I had no choice but to tirelessly try and find topics to text him about. Occasionally, if I hit on something that interested him, Liam would mercifully reply with a few words. I knew Liam wasn’t doing this because he was afraid I’d run away. He was afraid I’d try to kill myself again. Since he couldn’t physically be there to watch me, he resorted to this clumsy method to keep an eye on me. But… I closed my eyes. The auditory hallucinations were getting worse. The voices in my ears were a chaotic jumble, and my head felt like it was going to split open. But Liam, I tried so hard to eat something, but I kept throwing it all back up. I tried everything, but I just couldn’t get a good night’s sleep. I was constantly plagued by panic, terror, and an overwhelming sadness… Liam, it seemed that all my longing, my guilt, my hopes for you—they were no longer enough to keep me alive. It was too agonizing. Truly, every minute, every second, was unbearable agony. Even eating candy didn’t help. 03 Liam’s manager came to see me. Compared to three years ago, he had put on some weight, a slight beer belly now noticeable. I heard he got married and had a cute little daughter. “Maya,” David set his bulging briefcase down and casually took a seat across from me. “How do you always manage to cause such monumental disasters?” I slid a glass of water toward him and offered a self-deprecating smile: “I guess it’s a special talent of mine.” David ignored my joke and bluntly dumped stacks of cash from his bag onto the table: “This situation is complicated. Given that you attended Liam’s concert right before your suicide attempt, and the hospital called him directly when you were brought in, simply stating you two are just friends won’t cut it. The fans and the public won’t buy it. They’ll just turn on Liam even harder, accusing him of dodging responsibility, which will only make things worse.” I glanced at the piles of cash on the table and asked: “So, how do you plan to resolve this?” David leaned forward, interlacing his fingers: “People have already dug up the fact that you two used to date. So, to protect Liam’s reputation, our only option is to say that after an amicable breakup, you couldn’t let go and attempted suicide to threaten him. Liam only showed up at the hospital to save your life.” David paused, then continued: “But don’t worry, I’m a businessman. I understand the concept of a fair trade. So tell me how much you want, name your price. If this isn’t enough, I can go back and get more. It’s just… Maya…” He suddenly used my first name: “You need to understand, three years ago, you almost ruined Liam once. He endured a lot to get to where he is today. He absolutely cannot be ruined by you a second time.” David left, leaving behind a massive pile of money that would last me a very long time. I agreed to cooperate with the clarification. I told everyone that I was the one who couldn’t let go, that I was the one who used suicide as a threat. Even though I was immediately bombarded with hate from his fans the moment the statement went live, I didn’t feel wronged. After all, this incident was entirely my fault, and Liam was innocently dragged into it. Besides, I was also helping myself. If I attempted suicide again right after clarifying, and I survived, fine. But if I died, people would undoubtedly blame Liam again. So I couldn’t die just yet. Even if it was just for him, I had to hold on a little longer. I looked at the photo of Liam and me hidden in the back of my phone case and smiled. I finally found a reason to keep living. 04 Liam and I, we had an amicable breakup back then. At least, that’s what I thought. But Liam always insisted that I dumped him. I hated the word “dumped.” It made it sound like there was a winner and a loser in a breakup. At the time, I just felt we weren’t a good match, so I told him: “Liam, we need to stop seeing each other.” What did Liam say back then? He said over the phone: “Maya, if you don’t want to hear about a specific topic, you say ‘stop talking about this,’ not ‘stop seeing each other.’ You’re a journalism major, how is your English worse than mine?” I fell silent for a moment. “Liam, what I mean is, we need to break up!” “You want to get married? Sure, but I’m not of legal age yet…” “Liam, I know you understand what I’m saying. Let’s break up. Don’t contact me anymore.” Everyone thought I was being dramatic. Giving up a perfect boyfriend like Liam and insisting on a breakup. What, did I think I was in a soap opera? Playing the whole “forced separation, he chases, she runs” trope? When we were together, Liam was already making a name for himself in the entertainment industry. With his incredible singing and dancing skills, coupled with his striking looks, his popularity was skyrocketing. His future looked incredibly bright, but it was almost dragged down by me. After my dad had an accident and fell into a coma, my mom didn’t want to deal with it. She dumped the entire mess on me and ran off to fool around. I hadn’t seen her in ages until one day, a man showed up at our door claiming my mom stole his money and demanding we pay it back. I didn’t know if he was telling the truth. Besides, the amount he mentioned was massive. Between going to school and taking care of my dad, the money I made from part-time jobs barely covered our basic living expenses. Even if it was true, there was no way I could pay it back. One time, he showed up drunk to harass me again, and Liam saw him. To protect me, Liam got into a physical fight with him. Liam’s parents were wealthy business owners, well-known in the area. Plus, Liam himself was frequently on TV and social media. The man recognized Liam and decided to target him instead. So, by the next morning, the internet was flooded with news: Liam’s girlfriend leverages his status to avoid paying debts; Liam aids and abets her by getting into street brawls. During a crucial turning point in Liam’s career, I had brought him trouble—a massive problem. Liam’s team had to burn through a ton of money just to suppress the story’s traction. After the incident blew up, Liam’s manager, David, came to me. He told me that my mom didn’t owe that man any money at all. The man was maliciously extorting us. However, they had no concrete proof. To clear everything up, my mom would have to publicly state that she had no financial ties to him. “Furthermore,” David looked up at me: “There’s something I need you to understand. If you and Liam are not a couple, then in this scenario, he’s simply an innocent bystander who saw someone being bullied and stepped in to help.” How could I not understand what David was implying? Liam had a brilliant future ahead of him, and that future was almost destroyed by my hands. So that night, I told Liam: “Liam, we need to stop seeing each other.” After the breakup, I went to find my mom, begging her to step forward and clear the air. Instead, she cursed me out, yelling at me for finding a rich boyfriend and not telling her, while she had to suffer in poverty every day. That’s when I realized she knew everything that man was doing. She was even the one who suggested exposing the story to manipulate public opinion, all to extort a lump sum of cash from Liam. “You want me to clear his name? Fine. Aren’t you two together? Go tell that Hayes kid to cough up a million dollars. Five hundred thousand for the statement, and another five hundred thousand for your dowry. Not a penny less.” That night, after being kicked out by my mom, I walked home alone. The late autumn night was freezing, so cold my entire body shivered. A million dollars? After I almost destroyed Liam’s career, was I supposed to shamelessly ask him for a million dollars? 05 That very night, Liam booked a red-eye flight back. When he arrived, I was at the hospital, sitting by my dad’s bed. Liam found me, looking miserably at my dad, who had been in a vegetative state for three years. Then he asked the most melodramatic question ever: “Did my mom demand this? Is this the classic ‘here’s half a million, leave my son’ scenario?” I sweatdropped. I couldn’t blame him; he’d been acting in too many soap operas. … “Liam, you see it yourself. We’re not from the same world. Dating someone like you is just too exhausting for me. “I always have to walk on eggshells, terrified someone will find out about us, terrified it’ll ruin your image. I can’t even contact you most of the time because it might interfere with your work. “I have to work myself to the bone just to try and close the gap between us, just so people won’t think I’m a gold-digger who doesn’t deserve you. “It’s too exhausting, Liam. Every single day is exhausting. “I don’t want this life. I just want an ordinary, quiet life. Do you understand? You can’t give up your career, your dreams. And even if you did, you’re still a rich kid from a completely different background. The quiet life I want is something you can never give me.” In that hospital room, Liam kept his head down and remained silent for a long time. I gripped the corner of my dad’s blanket, biting my lip so hard I almost bled, just to stop the tears from falling. I don’t know how much time passed before Liam finally spoke: “But Maya, you’re not in this relationship alone. A breakup involves two people, and I don’t agree. “The things you mentioned… I might need some time to give you a proper answer, but we have to try and find a way to fix this together, don’t we? You can’t… you can’t just run into a problem and immediately decide to give up on me. That’s not fair to me.” I don’t clearly remember what happened next. My memory has been failing me lately, and everything in my head feels foggy and chaotic. I probably said a lot of awful things. I remember saying: “Liam, other than relying on the privileges your parents handed you, what else can you do? People like me at the bottom scrape by just to survive, but you were born with things we could work our whole lives and never achieve.” I told him: “Liam, for the rest of my life, the kind of people I despise the most are rich kids like you, hiding behind your parents like parasites.” In my memory, the only tangible, real thing left of Liam is the sight of his back as he slammed the door and walked away. For three years after that day, I never saw him again. … After Liam left, I issued a public statement clarifying that Liam and I were just friends. Regardless of whether I owed anyone money, it had nothing to do with him. He was merely an innocent bystander who stepped in to help. Once the statement was out, the scandal finally died down. But my mom and that man, failing to get the money they wanted, started harassing me constantly. I had no energy to deal with them, but I also had no way out—I couldn’t just abandon my bedridden father. Those three years were hell. Life was a grueling struggle. Just surviving, trying to find a moment of happiness, or even just eating a decent meal or getting a good night’s sleep became an impossible task for me. I knew I was sick. I felt it deep down, but I never had the courage to go to the hospital. I avoided doctors because my dad needed me. I couldn’t afford to collapse. Half a month ago, after clinging to life for four years, my dad slowly stopped breathing. After arranging his funeral, I grabbed my meager belongings and finally left that city. I went to see a doctor. They said my condition was already severe and required medication. If that didn’t work, I might need Electroconvulsive Therapy (ECT). I didn’t take the meds, nor did I undergo any therapy. I had completely lost the will to live. I just wanted to see Liam one last time before the end. I took out all the money I had saved from scrimping and scraping over the years and bought a ticket to Liam’s concert from a scalper. I also bought a really nice, expensive outfit and did my makeup. I just wanted to look at him from afar. I never expected the camera to find me. And so, after three years, I brought trouble to Liam once again. 06 After I posted the clarification, the internet erupted with hate directed at me, but I didn’t care. I had quit my job a long time ago. I locked myself in my apartment, surviving on delivery food and sleeping pills day after day. But honestly, I couldn’t keep much down. I had no appetite. Even if I forced myself to swallow some soup, I’d throw it right back up. Still, I stubbornly set three alarms every day to force myself to eat on schedule. I needed to stay alive a little longer, otherwise, the mob’s fury would pivot back to Liam. Let’s say a hundred days. I gave myself a deadline. Liam, whatever I owe you, I’ll pay it back with these hundred days of my life. … When Liam showed up at my door, fully disguised in a mask and cap, I was sitting alone on the sofa, staring into space. The apartment was terrifyingly quiet. The rhythmic knocking on the door felt like a lifeline, snapping me out of my crushing loneliness. “Maya, why did you say those things online?” I smiled at him, reached over, and pulled open all the drawers in the coffee table. Inside were neat stacks of cash. The scene looked like a shady underworld transaction, as if the command to “move in” was about to crackle through a hidden earpiece. Liam stared at me, bewildered. “What is the meaning of this?” I shrugged: “Exactly what it looks like. Taking someone’s money to solve their problems, that’s all.” Liam’s face darkened. He didn’t speak for a long time. Then, inappropriately, my phone alarm went off—it was time for dinner. I silenced the alarm and looked up at his face, now free of the mask. A face without a trace of makeup, yet still breathtakingly handsome. I suddenly spoke: “Liam, have you eaten? If not, let’s eat together.” Liam abruptly stood up, anger blazing across his face: “Maya, what… what do you take me for?” I didn’t look up, pursing my lips in thought for a moment: “For… a dinner buddy.” Liam ultimately didn’t leave. He stayed, his expression cold. All his anger hit me like punches landing on cotton. I didn’t fight back; he said his piece, and I said mine. Liam paced the living room in furious circles until he got tired, then started nitpicking: “Why did you put so many chili peppers in this?! Did you do it on purpose?! Don’t you know I need to protect my vocal cords?” Liam yelled from the living room, and I answered from the kitchen: “I only put one tiny tip in, just for flavor.” “You put way too much water in the rice, are you making porridge?” “Is it too much? Doesn’t look like it. Whatever, think of it like a blind box. It adds to the suspense.” “Why is this plate so ugly?” “It came free with some yogurt.” “Why are you peeling the apple so thick?” “Bought them on sale.” “Why is there a chip on the rim of this bowl?” “It fell on the floor and only a tiny piece chipped off. I named it ‘Survivor.’” “The cartoon on your apron is so childish. What kind of taste is that?” “That’s a chibi caricature of a certain artist named Liam.” “…” Liam stopped talking. The soup in the pot bubbled and gurgled, seemingly echoing the rhythm of someone’s heartbeat. A long time later, Liam’s voice drifted in softly: “Maya… why did you try to commit suicide?” I lifted my head from the cloud of steam and met Liam’s eyes, which could never quite hide his emotions: “Liam, if you buy me a cake, I’ll tell you. But it has to be sweet.” However, that night, we didn’t end up eating dinner together, and I didn’t get to eat the cake Liam bought.

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My roommate got drunk after a breakup. While I was giving her a ride home on my electric scooter, I accidentally scraped a Mercedes. My roommate glanced at the license plate and asked me faintly, “Are you short on cash lately?” I answered honestly, “Always.” My roommate nodded, then pitched headfirst off the scooter, adding as she fell, “I’ll make you rich today.” I… At the same time, the door of the Mercedes opened, and a handsome guy in a sharp suit stepped out. We stared at each other in stunned silence. 01 Right before graduation, my roommate quietly broke up with her boyfriend. My gorgeous roommate got completely wasted and called me to take her home. While I was driving her back on my little electric scooter, she was giving me directions and simultaneously ranting about her ex’s terrible behavior. I comforted her while trying to keep my eyes on the road. Not gonna lie, even though she was drunk out of her mind, the scenic route she directed us on was pretty beautiful. Taking in the scenery ahead, I couldn’t help but ask, “Hey, drama queen, why do I remember this area being a luxury gated community up ahead? Are you sure these directions are right?” My roommate leaned against my back and, after a long pause, said, “Do you know? I was the rose he watered. How am I supposed to live without him?” Me: “…” Alright, Rose Queen, you just stay sad for a bit. She was already unconscious and totally useless, and I felt something was really wrong. I had to pull over to the curb and open Maps to see where we were. Suddenly, a force hit my cute little scooter, and my phone flew out of my hand from the momentum. Ahhh!! My phone! A broken phone would just add to the financial misery of my already poor family. I turned around angrily and saw an all-black Mercedes that had given us a light bump. Just as I was about to check on my poor phone and give the driver a piece of my mind… My roommate sat up like she was waking from the dead, glanced at the license plate, pondered for a long time, and suddenly asked: “Are you short on cash lately?” What kind of question is that? We’ve been surviving on instant ramen together for so long, don’t you know I’m always broke? I answered honestly: “Always.” My roommate nodded, and then I watched as she slowly slid down and fell flat next to the Mercedes, adding: “I’ll make you rich today. Are you touched?” I’m touched, alright, but look at me—do I dare move right now, my dear roommate?! What is happening? If you’re going to pull a scam, at least rehearse it with me! My acting skills aren’t up to par for this! As I stood next to her, completely bewildered and not knowing what to do with my hands or feet, the door of the Mercedes opened. The moment the door opened, a pair of long legs stepped firmly onto the ground. Then, a man in a sharp suit slowly walked over. He carried a freezing aura, his face completely devoid of any warmth. His sharp features and tall stature gave off an intense, oppressive presence. I nervously swallowed hard and crouched down, desperately shaking my roommate who was playing dead on the ground. My good daughter, please get up! You picked the wrong person to scam! If you don’t get up, your daddy (me) might get murdered in the next second. A shadow fell over me. I looked up and met his gaze as he stared down at me, scrutinizing. “Get up. Don’t make me repeat myself.” 02 His voice was deep and carried an undeniable tone of authority. Driving a Mercedes, incredibly handsome, deep voice—yep, he’s a certified billionaire CEO. I was scared half to death. Even though this CEO bumped my scooter first and was technically at fault… My idiot roommate trying to run an insurance scam on him was definitely not okay! Seeing this girl still playing dead and refusing to get up, I had to bite the bullet and tell the truth: “Uh, sir, we’re not trying to scam you. She’s just really drunk…” Before I could finish, I saw him frown. Then he crouched down, sniffed slightly, and let out a light scoff, as if laughing out of sheer anger. “Look at you, Chloe Sterling, you actually know how to drink now?” “???” What’s going on? He knows my roommate? Seeing my shocked expression, this CEO turned to me and said very politely: “I apologize. My driver accidentally scraped your scooter. I’m Chloe’s older brother.” “Liam Sterling.” His tone was still as cold as ice. What??? This cold-faced CEO character is my deadbeat roommate’s brother! Which means, my deadbeat roommate… I looked at the “Rose Queen” lying on the ground next to my shattered phone, and tears of envy practically flowed from my mouth. Waaaaah, why didn’t you tell me you were a rich girl! I caught my breath and told her brother: “It’s fine, it’s fine. She got drunk, so she asked me to take her home.” Liam gave a slight nod. Just as he thanked me and was about to pick up my roommate, my deadbeat roommate—oh wait, no, my dear rich friend—suddenly came back to life. She grabbed my hand and refused to let me go. Muttering nonsense like: “You don’t want me anymore, waaaaah. Taking advantage of me being drunk to abandon me. I bought you that car!” I didn’t! I am not! Don’t talk nonsense! I bought my little electric scooter by living on instant ramen! Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Liam giving me an inquisitive look. Damn it. I wanted to explain that the person she was talking about wasn’t me, but her ex-boyfriend. But I didn’t know if she had told her brother about her relationship, so I was stuck taking the blame in silence. For a moment, the three of us were locked in a bizarre, awkward stalemate. Liam holding her, her holding me, and me… I just wanted to die. But Liam, clearly someone used to handling big situations, thought for a moment and then took both of us back to his place. He even had my scooter and phone packed up and brought along. As soon as we walked in, my eyes were practically blinded by the sheer luxury. It was insanely opulent. Is this the world of the rich? Oh my god. However, even though the house was luxurious, it felt inexplicably empty. I secretly looked around and realized there wasn’t a single housekeeper in sight. “Sorry for the trouble of bringing Chloe back.” Liam placed my roommate on the bed, smoothed out his clothes, and extended a hand to me: “How should I address you?” I froze for a second, then reached out and gave him a brief handshake: “Audrey. I’m her roommate.” Liam nodded. He was already tall, and I was standing very close to him. From this angle, I could only see his sharp, defined jawline. “It’s too late today. You can stay here for the night, Audrey. As for the scooter and the phone,” Liam looked at the shattered phone in my hand, his expression calm and unreadable, “I’ll have someone handle it.” He was talking about my little electric scooter and the broken phone. I nodded. Liam turned to leave, but just as he stepped out the door, my roommate suddenly whined with a sob: “Mom…” Then she mumbled some more drunken nonsense. Liam stopped dead in his tracks. He stood outside the door, his back to the light, remaining completely silent. The light from the living room stretched his shadow long across the floor. For some reason, his tall silhouette made me feel a sense of profound loneliness. After standing there for who knows how long, Liam took large strides away without looking back. The room was left with just me and the dead-to-the-world Chloe. 03 Why did he look… a bit sad? I felt a bit confused but didn’t dwell on it. After cleaning Chloe up, I was so exhausted I just collapsed onto the bed. Even as I lay there, it felt like I was dreaming. The roommate who ate cheap takeout with me every day was suddenly a rich heiress, and her attempt at a scam happened to target her own brother. What a bizarre turn of events. Thinking about it, I drifted off to sleep. When I woke up again, it was to Chloe screaming: “Holy shit, Audrey, why am I at home?!” I buried my head under the covers, my brain unable to process anything, and mumbled: “Your brother brought you back.” Chloe instantly started wailing: “Holy shit, my brother!! No wonder that license plate looked familiar.” Wow. So you only dared to pull a scam because you recognized your brother’s car? And here I thought you were just criminally insane. She scratched her head: “Did I say anything embarrassing?” When she said that, the image of Liam standing alone outside the door, looking so isolated, flashed clearly in my mind, and I instantly woke up. I sat up, looked at her wailing, kind of wanting to laugh, and asked: “What do you mean?” Chloe buried her face in the covers, saying despairingly: “About dying over that scumbag, of course. It’s so embarrassing.” So that’s what it was. She definitely said quite a bit about that, Rose Queen. Seeing me stay silent, she started shaking me. I threw my hands up in surrender: “No, no, no, I covered your mouth the whole time.” She put her hands together in a gesture of gratitude: “A grateful heart, thankful for you.” Speaking of this, I yanked her out from under the covers: “You liar, didn’t you say your brother started working right after high school?” Chloe looked completely sincere: “Yeah, he started his own business right after high school.” Then she muttered: “He’s doing pretty well for himself now.” Who would call that just ‘working’?! Who would call this just ‘pretty well’?! I gave her an admiring thumbs-up and said: “Since you’re awake, I’m heading back.” Chloe immediately grabbed me: “Wait, didn’t you say you couldn’t find a place to stay for the summer? Do you want to stay here with me?” I looked at her in shock. Truly my dear roommate, we were on the exact same wavelength. I had actually planned to ask if she wanted to rent a place together for the summer, since our internship locations were very close. But with the current situation, it was a bit unexpected. Her brother was still home; it would be so inconvenient for me to stay here. Probably sensing my hesitation, Chloe immediately said: “Don’t worry, my brother is basically never home. If you don’t come, I’ll have to live in this huge house all by myself. It’ll be so lonely.” Waaaaah, rich girl, you’re really flexing right now. Chloe started acting pitiful: “You know I get scared, right? Just me alone in the house.” I thought about it and asked: “Is there really no one else in your family? Like a housekeeper or something?” Such a big house, yet it felt so empty. Chloe looked confused: “No. When I’m staying at school, it’s just my brother here. He doesn’t like hiring housekeepers.” That solitary silhouette from last night flashed in my mind again, looking even more lonely. I shook my head to clear the image and said honestly: “I’m fine with it, but you have to discuss it with your brother…” Before I could finish, she pulled me out the door and sprinted down the stairs: “Then we have to hurry. My brother is about to leave for the office.” I stumbled as she pulled me along. When we got downstairs, I saw Liam already sitting at the dining table, who knows how long he’d been waiting. 04 Chloe pulled me over to sit down. Liam’s cool gaze swept over us, his voice carrying a slight nasal tone: “Care to explain? You drink now?” Chloe laughed awkwardly: “Well, you know, it’s graduation season, the sadness of parting ways…” Liam gave a scoff, clearly not buying it: “You’re graduating this year?” Chloe shot me a look, desperately signaling me for help. Holy crap, this girl never prepares a script. I coughed, kept a straight face, and lied: “Yes, the seniors in our lab are graduating. We’re close, so we had a few drinks.” Liam’s deep, dark eyes looked at me, as if trying to see right through me. I smiled at him calmly, but inside I was a bundle of nerves. This was scarier than the strictest principal from my high school. I thought Liam was going to press further, but he stopped and calmly said: “Let’s eat.” As if the intimidating patriarch from a second ago wasn’t him. I breathed a sigh of relief, and Chloe secretly gave me a thumbs-up. After a few bites, before I could fully relax, Chloe spoke up while eating: “Liam, Audrey isn’t going home for the summer. Can she stay here with me?” As soon as she finished, Liam’s gaze fell on me. After a brief moment of thought, he answered: “Yes.” Then he continued eating methodically: “I won’t be coming back for a while then. If you have any problems, call me anytime.” Chloe openly threw a peace sign at me, then excitedly praised me to her brother: “Did you know? Audrey is amazing. She’s the smartest person in our dorm. She’s loved astrophysics since she was a kid and studies it with such passion.” She paused, then emphasized: “Astrophysics!” That’s because different fields are like different worlds. Our dorm was mixed; my major was different from theirs, but everyone was actually pretty impressive in their own research areas. Liam seemed interested in this and asked: “Have you always liked it this much?” I thought for a moment and answered honestly: “Not exactly. There was a time when studying it was really painful.” Chloe said admiringly: “Audrey thinks it’s painful but keeps studying, and eventually she loves it. I’m different. I study it and just fail.” I laughed at her exaggerated expression. Chloe acted like a reporter: “Come on, tell us, how did you overcome the difficulties and fall in love with astrophysics?” It wasn’t a big deal. I organized my thoughts and kept it brief: “It’s actually pretty cliché. I met this expert online back then. He taught me a lot, and then I slowly started to enjoy studying it again.” Liam nodded slightly and asked: “And now?” I said firmly: “Lifelong passion.” Chloe nodded excitedly and showed off my keychain: “She really loves it. Even her keychain is a model of Pluto.” When she showed the keychain, Liam froze. He suddenly stopped moving, his eyes locked onto my keychain, his expression complex, his brows even furrowing slightly. I looked at Chloe in confusion. She calmly explained that her brother’s recent projects involved this kind of knowledge, so he gets excited hearing about it. Oh, I see. No wonder he had more to say when he heard I studied astrophysics. “This keychain… is it from the expert you mentioned?”

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When a scholarship student spilled milk on my shirt, my childhood best friend bullied her the very next day. I told him it wasn’t necessary, but later I caught him cornering her again. “If I… if I kiss you, will you let me go?” she stammered. Liam gave a lazy, arrogant smile. “What do you think?” In that exact moment, I finally realized: we were no longer walking the same path. Half a month later, the scholarship student staged a fake bullying incident, and Liam violently kicked my desk over. “Are you psycho, Chloe?! Over a spilled cup of milk?! Really?!” I picked up my backpack with absolute indifference. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I have an airtight alibi.” “I spent yesterday afternoon filing my transfer paperwork. I’m leaving tomorrow.” 01 Liam Evans was the undisputed king of our high school. Tall, handsome, and so naturally brilliant he could place in the top ten without even studying. And everyone knew that I was his one and only untouchable boundary. No one messed with me, and no one crossed me. Or else they suffered the consequences. “Chloe, when do you think Liam is going to let that scholarship girl off the hook?” “He’s literally skipped a whole week of classes just to corner Maya outside of school.” My pen paused on the paper. I looked up at the empty desk a few rows away. I lowered my eyes and gave a flat reply. “I don’t know.” The final bell rang. I hugged my neatly packed notebooks and walked out of the classroom with my desk mate. She kept chattering. “Tsk, well, I guess I’ll never understand the mind of an overly protective boyfriend.” My throat suddenly felt dry. Protective? A few days ago, Maya, a scholarship student, accidentally spilled a carton of milk all over me. Liam’s face instantly darkened. As he took off his school uniform jacket and wrapped it around me, the other students demanded Maya apologize. “Huh? It was an accident. Do I really have to apologize?” “That milk was pretty expensive too…” She mumbled, clearly unwilling. Someone pulled her sleeve and whispered. “You clearly have no idea how protective Liam is of Chloe. If she gets mad, Liam will literally destroy you.” Hearing that, she let out an “Oh.” And gave a very reluctant, defiant apology. Meanwhile, Liam wiped down my desk, never sparing her a single glance. The entire school knew. Liam and I had grown up together. I was the person he cared about most, the person he was absolutely determined to protect. But now… I let out a dry, hollow laugh and stopped my desk mate. “Actually, Liam and I aren’t really anything special.” “Huh?” She looked confused. Seeing I wasn’t going to elaborate, she followed my gaze toward the school gates. In a narrow alleyway just out of sight, Liam and Maya were standing incredibly close. They were talking, and the girl was so close her breath was practically brushing against Liam’s face. 02 There were a lot of students walking by. If you didn’t look closely, they were hidden in the shadows of the alley, making them hard to spot. A lazy, arrogant smile played on Liam’s lips. “So, what do you owe me today?” “A deal is a deal.” Maya’s face was flushed red. She wouldn’t look at him. She went up on her tiptoes and quickly kissed his cheek. “Holy shit! What?!” My desk mate was dumbfounded. She couldn’t help but gasp out loud. That single gasp made Liam turn his head. His eyes locked directly with mine. Our gazes collided, and the air instantly froze. My desk mate finally realized what she had done and covered her mouth. “Sorry! You guys keep talking! I didn’t see anything!” Then she bolted like her life depended on it. I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear, honestly not knowing what to say. I gave a cold, detached smile. “What a coincidence. I’m heading home too.” Liam’s gaze rested heavily on me. He didn’t say a word. We stood there in a silent standoff for three long seconds. As I turned to leave, I heard Maya’s voice. “Liam… is she mad?” “Don’t worry about her.” My heart felt a sudden, agonizing squeeze. I forced it down and walked faster. I had known Liam for nineteen years. Suddenly, I realized he was no longer the boy I remembered. Three days ago, when I found out he had started targeting Maya, I specifically went to talk to him. “I don’t care about stuff like that.” “But I do.” His expression had been completely serious as he enunciated every word. “Your health isn’t great. I won’t let anyone bully you.” We grew up together. That was the sentence he had said to me more than any other. But it was that exact same day. I saw him cornering Maya against the wall of the auditorium. Maya was crying and hiccuping. “If I… if I kiss you, will you let me go?” Liam dropped his usual cold, unapproachable demeanor. He gave a lazy, arrogant smile. “What do you think?” I don’t remember how I walked away from the auditorium. My legs felt stiff, and my chest was so tight I couldn’t breathe. For the rest of the afternoon, I didn’t absorb a single word the teachers said. Eventually, I managed to convince myself: people change. If we were no longer walking the same path. Then we shouldn’t walk together anymore. 03 The next morning, Liam didn’t show up for homeroom. Everyone was used to him skipping class. “But…” My desk mate paused, unsure if she should ask. But she asked anyway. “You didn’t walk to school with Liam today?” Normally, we walked into the classroom together every single day. In the summer, he would buy me breakfast; in the winter, he would have a hot pack ready for me on the walk. It was an unspoken routine everyone knew about. But today, I deliberately took a different route that avoided his neighborhood. Seeing my hesitation, my desk mate tactfully changed the subject. “Oh, whatever. What do you want to grab for breakfast after homeroom?” When homeroom ended, Liam finally showed up. He was carrying a bag of warm, fresh cheese balls. “Oh my god, don’t you have to run all the way across town to get those?” “Chloe, you’re so lucky! Let me have one!” A few girls crowded around me. But Liam didn’t even look at me. He walked past my desk and dropped the bag of cheese balls directly in front of Maya. Then he went back to his desk and put his head down to sleep. The area around my desk went dead silent. “Did he drop them at the wrong desk?” “Did the young master need glasses?” Maya looked over at me, making eye contact with the girl who had just asked for a cheese ball. She covered the bag with her hands. “Sorry. Liam bought these for me. I’m not sharing them.” Nobody really paid attention to her comment. Instead, everyone was shooting me awkward, questioning looks. Finally, someone couldn’t hold back. “Did you guys get in a fight?” “No way. Liam is insanely protective of Chloe. There’s no way he’d suddenly turn on her.” I wasn’t really surprised. Since I had seen them, there was no reason for him to keep pretending. The atmosphere around us was definitely humiliating. But my face remained completely blank. I just pulled my lunch card out of my desk. “We didn’t fight. “And I should clarify this for everyone: Liam and I are just regular classmates. “We don’t have any other relationship.” With that, I walked out of the classroom. The school jacket Liam had draped over his head suddenly slipped off. He raised his eyes to look at me, his gaze freezing coldly in midair. 04 The subtle shift between Liam and me didn’t escape my mom’s notice. For several days in a row, he hadn’t come over to our house. He used to always do his homework with me. Well, he didn’t actually do his homework. He just liked resting his chin on his hand, watching me work, idly twirling the ends of my hair around his fingers. When it annoyed me, I’d swat his hand away. He would just smile, his eyes curving like a sly fox. “Finished? Want to go for a walk?” I would fake being annoyed. “Liam, if you aren’t going to study, don’t distract me.” “Then kick me out.” He would prop his head up with his other hand. His tone was absolutely shameless, knowing full well I’d never actually kick him out. Sometimes I studied very late. He would accidentally fall asleep on my desk. When he finally left, he would stretch by the door, smile, and wave. “See you tomorrow.” That was the dynamic between Liam and me. There were no explicit confessions, but he rooted himself into my life, deliberately leaving his mark everywhere, flaunting his blatant favoritism for me. Who wouldn’t fall for someone like that? I liked Liam. And I had carefully, secretly fantasized about our future together countless times. Maybe we would start dating. Maybe after graduation, he would gently, formally take my hand and confess. Thinking about that, Maya’s face suddenly flashed in my mind. Liam holding her in his arms, smirking, letting her stand on her tiptoes to kiss him. I squeezed my eyes shut, my eyes burning with unshed tears. My mom was asking me. “Liam hasn’t been walking you home lately. “Did you guys get into a fight? “Your teacher called his mom and said Liam is dating someone. Did you guys…” I shook my head, cutting her off. “He isn’t dating me.” My mom froze, clearly wanting to say something else. But I suddenly looked up and asked her. “A few days ago, that magnet school offered me a spot to boost their Ivy League acceptance rate, right? “I thought about it. I’ll transfer.” Before, Liam had told me he wanted to stay by my side forever. And I had the exact same hope. But now. I had absolutely no reason to stay here anymore. 05 Liam and I established an unspoken agreement to keep our distance. His relationship with Maya became the biggest gossip in school. In the past, people had speculated if Liam and I were secretly dating. But since we never crossed any physical boundaries, it remained just rumors. Now, things were different. Liam was skipping class and taking Maya with him. Even the teachers knew about it. During P.E., my desk mate suddenly ran over to me. “Chloe! Liam is going to beat a guy to death! You have to go stop him!” I froze slightly. “A fight?” In my memory, whenever Liam fought someone, it was almost always because of me. When I got there, Liam had a guy pinned against the brick wall. Both of them had blood on their mouths. Liam casually wiped the blood off his face and raised his fist again. “I’ll ask you one more time. Are you going to apologize to her or not?” “I FUCKING TOLD YOU! I never insulted her shoes!” Maya was hiding behind Liam’s back. She was sobbing. “He… he definitely stared at my shoes and judged them.” Liam pulled his fist back to swing. But out of the corner of his eye, he saw me, and he froze. I understood instantly. He was fighting for Maya. Well, I had no intention of interrupting his “knight in shining armor” moment. I turned to leave, but the guy pinned against the wall used Liam’s momentary distraction to kick him away, and then grabbed my arm. I gasped in shock. I recognized him—he was the leader of the local delinquent gang. “Well, well. If it isn’t your little childhood sweetheart.” “You falsely accused me, and you hit me? Liam, if you don’t apologize to me right now, I’m going to punch her in the face!” He gripped my arm with crushing force. I started to panic. “Whatever is going on between you two has absolutely nothing to do with me!” He ignored me. He glared at Liam. “Scared now? I heard you care about her a lot.” Maybe I was just too terrified, but in that moment, I harbored a pathetic, unwarranted sliver of hope for Liam. If it were the old him, he would have done absolutely anything to protect me. But the words asking for help died in my throat. Because Liam laughed first. “You heard wrong.” He lazily lifted his eyes, his gaze sweeping over me with chilling indifference. “Go ahead and hit her. But I am not letting what happened to Maya go.” I stared blankly as he gently wiped Maya’s tears away, and then walked away with her. Above me, I heard a vicious curse. “Motherfucker, I don’t believe him.” The delinquent gritted his teeth. And slammed his fist directly into my face. 06 I blacked out. The punch was agonizing. I never knew getting hit felt like that. In my memories, Liam had taken countless hits like that. Sometimes he got them from fighting for me. Sometimes he got them from his dad beating him for failing his classes. He would always come to me, begging me to apply the ointment. “It hurts so much, Chloe. Don’t you feel sorry for me?” He would say it looking like a pitiful puppy. My heart would pound uncontrollably every time. While I dabbed iodine on his cuts, I would ask. “Can’t you just focus on school? Then your dad wouldn’t hit you.” Liam would go silent. I only ever asked him that once. That day, the atmosphere between us plummeted to freezing. Later, I found out the truth. Liam’s parents had practically been divorced for years. They both had affairs. But to maintain the illusion of a perfect family for Liam, they pretended everything was fine. Ever since Liam discovered the truth, he started getting into fights, skipping class, and staying out all night, pushing everyone away. Once I found out, I never told him to “focus on school” again. He had his own way of rebelling against his broken world. He seemed to severely lack a sense of security. He would ask me, “Chloe, I’m never going to get into a top college like you. Are you going to stop talking to me?” I shook my head. “Never. I’ll always be by your side.” The dream cut off right there. I could hear people arguing next to my ear. It sounded like Liam’s father. “What the hell is going through your head?! Refusing to study is one thing, but you just stood there and watched someone beat Chloe like that?!” Liam’s mother was crying nearby. “How could you do this? Chloe fell from a balcony when she was little, you know she has a history of concussions! Didn’t you always swear you would protect her?” Liam, who had been completely silent, suddenly let out an impatient scoff. He kicked something on the floor. “Fucking hell, protect what? Isn’t she a human being? Does she need me to protect her?” Smack. Liam’s father slapped him hard across the face. His voice was trembling with rage. “And that… that Maya girl! Why is she the only one you stand up for?!” “Heh…” Liam let out a soft laugh. “Yeah. She’s willing to skip class with me. She’s willing to fight with me.” “What the hell is Chloe compared to that?”

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My boyfriend thought my breasts were too big. He gave me $70,000 to get a breast reduction surgery. Right then, a mysterious person suddenly transferred $700,000 to my account. The memo read: “Don’t listen to him.” I gripped my phone and secretly texted my boyfriend’s best friend: “If you want me to listen to you, just sending money isn’t enough.” He replied at lightning speed: “What are you talking about? I don’t understand.” Me: “Never mind then, I’m heading to the hospital.” He panicked just as I expected: “What else do you want?” “Are you 7 inches?” “I’m 24 years old.” “Talk is cheap, show me.” Later, he used his actions to show me a really good time. 01 My name is Maya Vance. I’m the girlfriend of Ethan Sterling, the golden boy of the city’s elite circle. But not for long. Because I plan to teach him a lesson. If you’re asking why I don’t just break up with him gracefully before finding someone else… Well, Ethan brought this entirely upon himself. He hated my figure and constantly pressured me to get a breast reduction. What’s even more infuriating is that he secretly created a burner account to flirt with other girls. So, after careful consideration, I decided to give him a taste of his own medicine before dumping him. Right before bed. For the first time, I posted a face-reveal selfie on my social media account, which had just under ten thousand followers. Caption: “Looking for a handsome, low-maintenance boyfriend.” Requirements: “6 feet tall, 7 inches, must have abs.” Within half an hour of posting, my follower count skyrocketed, nearing a hundred thousand. Amidst the sea of compliments and unsolicited selfies, one particular DM caught my eye. “Don’t you have a boyfriend?” How did this person know I wasn’t single? I clicked on his profile. His IP address showed he was in the same city as me. His profile picture was pitch black, and he had zero posts. His bio simply read: “Small gains accumulate, eventually surpassing everything.” For some reason, I had a sudden premonition. This person definitely knew me. Please don’t let it be Ethan. That would ruin the fun. I was debating whether to reply when he got anxious and messaged again. “Have you considered your boyfriend’s feelings by doing this?” “Even if you want a new guy, you shouldn’t be looking online.” “There are tons of scammers on the internet.” “Be careful or you’ll get trafficked overseas.” … Okay, I was certain this wasn’t Ethan. But judging by his tone, he was probably close friends with him. Who could it be? Looking at the chat window, I suddenly realized his username looked familiar. Scrolling back, I discovered he had been liking my posts for a long time. Sometimes he even left comments. Even Ethan didn’t know about this account, yet this guy had been following me for this long. Could he… have a crush on me? Filled with doubt, I sent a probing reply: “Then do you want to give it a try with me?” 02 The moment I hit send, it was marked as read. My curiosity was completely piqued. I had pretty much met all of Ethan’s friends. Who exactly was secretly harboring a crush on me? After a few seconds of silence in the chat, a flurry of messages arrived. “What do you mean?” “You want me to be your boyfriend?” “Stop joking around. To tell you the truth, Ethan and I are good friends.” “I would absolutely never do anything to betray him.” “Okay then, bye,” I replied. After sending that, I closed the app, put my phone away, and went straight to sleep. The next morning, the first thing I did was open my account to check my DMs. Just as I expected. Not only had he sent a barrage of messages, but he had even tried to voice-call me multiple times. “What the hell do you mean, ‘bye’?” “Explain yourself!” “Are you serious about looking for a boyfriend, or are you just acting out in anger?” “Come to think of it, I guess I could work.” “But I refuse to be the other man. You have to make it official!” “Why aren’t you answering?” “Are you asleep?” “Or are you chatting with other guys?!” One missed voice call. “I already said I’m down. Don’t look for anyone else.” Two missed voice calls. “Fine, I’ll be the other man. It’s not like Ethan is a saint anyway. Last time we were in Tokyo, he went to a maid cafe behind your back.” Five missed voice calls. “Are you still there?” “It’s getting late. Get some rest. Goodnight.” A few minutes later, he sent a heart emoji, followed by a blood-pumping photo of his abs. In the photo, he was wearing sweatpants, lounging casually on a bed, his long legs stretching out endlessly. Under the natural light, his skin had a healthy, tanned glow. The veins on his arms were bulging, and his long, slender fingers were resting in a spot that was very hard to ignore. This was a blatant seduction! I silently downloaded and saved the photo. Blushing, I thought to myself, “He’s definitely packing.” While I was brushing my teeth, the doorbell rang downstairs. My housekeeper answered it and immediately let out a gasp. “Maya, come down quick! Look at this massive bouquet of roses.” Roses… How cliché. I took my time going downstairs. I walked over with a look of disdain and briefly glanced at the card. Then I suddenly noticed a delicate jewelry box sitting on top of the flowers. I opened it and gasped—it was my bangle! This was the last gift my dad gave me before he died. After he passed, his company faced a massive financial deficit. I gathered everything of value I owned and put it up for auction. That included this bangle. I remember it was bought by a foreign buyer for almost half a million dollars. Ethan’s friend somehow managed to track down the buyer and bought it back for me. I sniffled and opened his chat. “I got the package. Thank you for getting it back for me. Could you give me your bank account number?” I couldn’t cough up that much cash all at once right now, but I could definitely manage it if we set up a 12-month installment plan. “I don’t want your money. I just want you.” … I expected him to decline the money, but I didn’t expect him to be so blunt about it. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, trying to figure out how to respond. Just then, a call came in. It was Ethan, reminding me not to forget to go to his friend’s birthday party with him today. “Don’t wear anything too revealing. Remember to wear a binder; it makes you look smaller and better.” I agreed to everything he said. Then I turned right around and picked out a low-cut evening gown from my closet. When I arrived, Ethan was laughing and chatting with a group of people. The second he saw my outfit, his face fell. He immediately pulled me aside. “Why did you show up dressed like this?” I ignored Ethan and looked past him into the distance. Amidst a sea of wandering and suggestive glances, I unexpectedly collided with a pair of deep, dark eyes. 03 Julian Thorne sat alone in a corner, meeting my gaze through the crowd and the blaring music. For some inexplicable reason, I felt paralyzed, unable to move a muscle. Julian broke eye contact first. He then downed the drink in his glass in one gulp. He seemed to smirk, but quickly reverted to his usual aloof demeanor. Thump. Thump. Thump. My heart rate suddenly spiked. At the same time, an incredibly absurd thought flashed through my mind: Could it be him? I quickly dismissed the idea. Ever since I met Julian, he had always been icy and distant. He seemed like he didn’t care about anything. Every time I said hi to him, he would just give a curt nod. He treated words like they were made of gold. Forget having a crush on me; there was a time I thought he actually hated me. “Maya Vance, have you gone mute? Say something!” Ethan waved his hand impatiently in front of my face. I furrowed my brow and shook off his hand: “Don’t you think I look good in this?” As I spoke, I deliberately pushed my chest out. Ethan looked like he was seasick. I took another step forward, and he immediately covered his mouth and bolted for the restroom. Ethan suffers from macromastia-induced vertigo. It’s a bizarre phobia, right? What’s even more bizarre is that, despite not being able to handle girls with large chests, he relentlessly pursued me back then. As for how I found out about this condition… It all stems from a hotel stay not too long ago. I was finally ready to fully commit to Ethan. But right at the crucial moment, the idiot literally passed out. Furious, I dumped a bucket of cold water on him to wake him up. Under my murderous glare, Ethan finally confessed. He said he actually prefers the supermodel body type. Slim waist, long legs, small chest. And except for that last part, I was an exact match for his ideal type. His confession made everything click. No wonder he always made me wear a binder. He claimed he was worried about other guys looking and making him jealous. But the truth was, he was the one who couldn’t handle it. When he emerged from the restroom, Ethan walked over to me, his eyes darting around shiftily, and brought up the surgery again. Before I could answer him, I suddenly received a text from an unknown number. “You have a great body. Ethan is just blind. Don’t get the surgery.” It was him! I bit my lip and downed my sparkling water in one gulp. I replied: “Restroom. Meet me?” 04 He seemed startled; it took him ages to reply. “Are you, sure?” “Of course.” “This is too sudden. I’m not ready.” “Never mind then. If you won’t go, I’ll go by myself.” “Wait!” “I’ll go.” Hook, line, and sinker. I told Ethan I was stepping away. Just as I was about to get up, the door to the private room swung open. Looking up, I saw a woman in maternity clothes standing in the doorway. She was looking around, clearly searching for someone. Looks like some irresponsible rich kid knocked someone up. I was just wondering which scumbag was the culprit. But the next second, the woman walked right up to Ethan, crying and making a scene, demanding he take responsibility. Getting a closer look, I realized that body-wise, she was exactly Ethan’s type. Although I had lost all feelings for Ethan. It was impossible not to be angry. After all, I was currently in the process of cheating on him. If anyone was going to hand out green hats, it was going to be me. I thought Ethan was just getting thirsty online; I didn’t realize he was already expecting a child. Dying of shock in my sickbed, the clown was me all along. In our social circle, saving face is more important than life itself. Without giving Ethan a chance to explain, I slapped him hard across the face and left without looking back. I completely forgot about my restroom rendezvous with the mystery man. On the way home, the more I thought about it, the more annoyed I got, so I just told the driver to turn around and head straight to a club. Going through a breakup, plus failing to cheat and getting cheated on instead—I’d be doing myself a disservice if I didn’t have a good drink. I went to Ethan’s regular club and told the bartender to bring out all the top-shelf liquor he had stored there. I invited everyone around to drink with me. I didn’t start feeling slightly better until Ethan’s entire stash was gone. After downing several glasses of hard liquor. My head started spinning. I glanced at the guy sitting next to me. He looked a lot like Julian Thorne. Was he here to drink too? No way. I remember Ethan saying Julian wasn’t into places like this. Even though I seemed to spot him every time I came here with Ethan. “Are you okay?” He looked at me with concern and asked. It seems I really drank too much; I was already hallucinating. I shook my head vigorously. But I lost my balance, and my whole body started falling backward… Before I could even scream. I fell into a solid embrace. The hug didn’t last long. He very politely helped me back into my chair. His fingers flashed past my eyes like a blur. For some reason. That image slowly merged with the distinct, long fingers from the ab photo etched in my memory. I thought I must be going crazy. To sober myself up, I ordered a glass of ice water. As I reached for it, I accidentally bumped the phone sitting next to it, lighting up the screen. It wasn’t my phone. But the lock screen wallpaper was a picture of me. Judging by the angle, it was clearly taken secretly… 05 I woke up in bed. I glanced around at the furnishings. It was my bedroom. So, was I dreaming? But I definitely went to the club, and I definitely drank a lot. As for what happened after I got drunk, my mind was a total blank. When my housekeeper brought me some hangover soup. I asked her who brought me home last night. She seemed very excited, saying it was a tall, incredibly handsome young man. “Way more handsome than Ethan.” She made sure to add that before leaving my room. Honestly, Ethan wasn’t bad-looking at all. To say this guy was even more handsome… A face, cool and striking, popped into my head. But he really didn’t seem like the type to harbor a secret crush. A guy like him could have any girl he wanted. The more I guessed, the more flustered I got, so I just decided to check the security footage. After setting the time, a Bentley with a vanity license plate composed entirely of the same number appeared on the screen. When the driver opened the door, I saw myself resting peacefully in Julian’s arms. He first politely greeted the housekeeper. Then, carefully, as if holding a child, he carried me out of the car. After laying me on my bed, he gave me a kiss on the forehead—a kiss he clearly thought was stealthy. Oh my god! I slammed the laptop shut with a smack, my face burning, grabbed my phone, and opened my DMs. Julian had sent me a “good morning” sticker an hour ago. I don’t usually like playing games. But teasing him a little wouldn’t hurt. My very first message was: “I’ve seen through the illusions of the mortal world, and I’ve decided to close my heart to love.” He panicked immediately. “Please don’t!” “You have to believe true love still exists in this world!!” “It’s not worth it for a scumbag!!!” I went full manipulative-drama-queen mode: “You and Ethan are good friends. I don’t want to ruin your relationship.” “He’s not my friend. If he wasn’t constantly forcing his way into my circle, I wouldn’t even acknowledge him.” “Ethan is a complete hooligan and a bastard. I’m cutting ties with him right now.” He really didn’t hesitate for a single second. Satisfied, I sent him a cute emoji and asked if he missed me. “I did.” “Prove it.” An image. I tapped it open without a second thought. The next second, I nearly dropped my phone. “Julian Thorne!” “Have! Have you no shame!”

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They all say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. For thirty years, I believed them. Every single day, I’d craft new dishes for my husband, David. His stomach was weak, so I was careful with every pinch of salt. Then came the storm. I saw him with my own eyes, his arm wrapped around his old flame, Linda, in a cheap diner, the two of them lovingly sharing a single ice cream cone. I returned home, soaked to the bone, only to stumble upon his hidden medical report: stomach cancer. So, not only had he betrayed me, but he was also planning to let me wither away by his side, none the wiser, so he could cash in my life insurance and run off with her. The worst part? The absolute joke of it all? He had the audacity to ask Linda to learn my recipes, to “take over for me” when I was gone. Fine. If he wanted to eat from two kitchens, I’d be more than happy to plan his menu. If Linda made him crab, I’d serve a rich tomato stew. If she seared him lamb chops, I’d prepare a refreshing watermelon salad. Let’s just see how long his broken body could take it. 1 After I retired, I started posting videos of my cooking online. My followers always said a talent like mine shouldn’t be confined to a home kitchen. Last month, someone recommended an international culinary competition. All expenses paid, a trip around the world, a huge cash prize for the winner, and even funding to open your own restaurant. It was an incredible offer, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted. But my hand hovered over the application page for what felt like an eternity. I just couldn’t bring myself to click. My husband, David, had a terribly weak stomach. He needed constant, meticulous care. For thirty years, my carefully prepared meals were the only thing keeping him going. Without me, he wouldn’t have made it this long. I treated him like a king, but he treated me like the hired help. If a dish was too salty or too bland, if the porridge was too thick or too thin, he’d throw his chopsticks down and demand I remake it. For his health, I endured it. For thirty years. This morning, he surprised me by asking me to buy a chicken to make a broth. A warmth spread through my chest. He never liked chicken soup—but I loved it. And today was my birthday. But just as I bought the chicken, the sky opened up in a torrential downpour. I quickly called him, but he just screamed at me. “You idiot! Can’t you do one simple thing right?” He hung up. The little warmth I’d felt was instantly extinguished. I ran home through the rain, but my feet froze when I saw the diner downstairs. There was David, huddled under a single umbrella with his old flame, Linda, the two of them cooing as they shared an ice cream cone. David wrapped his arm around her. “I had the old woman make you some chicken soup. I’ll bring it over tonight to help you warm up.” Linda pouted playfully. “Who wants chicken soup? I want soda and ice cream. I want to be your sweet little baby.” “Of course,” he cooed back. “You’ll always be my sweet little baby.” I stood there in the pouring rain, smelling the stale cooking oil on my clothes and looking at the blisters on my hands. In that moment, I finally understood just how foolish I’d been for thirty years. When I got home, I was soaked through, but I didn’t bother changing. I went straight to the bedroom and started packing. The competition organizers had said there was a flight tonight. Just then, David walked in. As always, his first words to me were, “Hurry up and make dinner.” I ignored him, continuing to pack my suitcase. When he saw I wasn’t moving, his voice rose. “Are you deaf? I’m talking to you! Did you get the chicken? Get in there and make the soup!” I zipped my suitcase shut and finally looked up at him. “I’m leaving. The house is all yours.” He stared at me for a second, then his face twisted in anger. “What’s gotten into you? So I didn’t pick you up in the rain, and now you’re throwing a fit? I was busy helping a friend!” 2 I stared at the corner of his mouth, where a faint smear of ice cream remained. “A friend? What friend?” He licked his lips reflexively. “Just an old friend. You wouldn’t know her.” “The doctor said your spleen is weak. You can’t have cold things. Next time you and Linda have a date, maybe you should eat something else.” With that, I grabbed my suitcase to leave, but he lunged forward and seized my arm. “You were following me! Have you no shame?” I ripped my arm from his grasp. “You’re asking me about shame?” He faltered for a moment, then, unbelievably, he smirked. “Yeah, I saw Linda. So what? Can’t old friends catch up? Why are you so damn paranoid?” I looked at his smug, uncaring face and remembered the time I’d served him soup that was slightly too cool. He’d slammed his bowl on the table and screamed at me all night. Now, to please Linda, he was ignoring his doctor’s orders. Suddenly, the fire in my chest fizzled out. It felt like even being angry was a waste of energy. I didn’t say another word. I just picked up my suitcase and walked out of that house without looking back. On the way to the airport, he called me relentlessly. I ignored every call. A few minutes later, my son called. “Mom, what are you doing? Where are you going to go without Dad? I’m out of state, I can’t take care of you!” “Don’t worry,” I said flatly. “I won’t be a burden to you.” I had just hung up when my daughter’s call came through. I sighed, speaking before she could. “I already told you, you don’t need to worry about me!” There was a pause. “Mom, what are you talking about? I got a raise, and I wanted to take you out for a nice dinner. It’s your birthday.” Hearing her words, the tears I’d been holding back finally broke free. I poured out all the hurt and humiliation from the day. The line was quiet for a few seconds. “Mom,” she said, her voice firm. “You go. Don’t worry about a thing. Even if you lose the competition, it doesn’t matter. I’ll take care of you from now on.” I clutched the phone tighter, a wave of relief washing over me. At least I still had my daughter. “I promise you, honey, I’m going to win. You just wait for me.” At the airport, the texts from David started flooding in: “You’re sixty years old, stop acting like a child! It was just a damn ice cream cone! Get back here and make dinner, I’m starving!” I was done with his nonsense. I turned off my phone. But as I reached the gate, a staff member stopped me. “Ma’am, airline policy requires passengers over sixty to present a recent health report before boarding.” “But I’m in perfect health! Look, I can carry this heavy suitcase with no problem. I’m fine, really.” “I’m sorry, but it’s the rule.” The competition organizer tried to help. “There’s another flight tomorrow morning. Why don’t you go home and get the report?” I gazed at the boarding gate and sighed heavily. Fine. One more night. As soon as the sun came up, I would be free. I heard the sound of laughter as I approached my front door. When I pushed it open, the scene inside made me freeze. David and Linda were on my bed, their clothes in disarray. Linda scrambled to her feet, frantically straightening her shirt. “Susan, don’t get the wrong idea! I was just making David some dinner. You should have some, too.” I let out a cold laugh. “No, thank you. I’m afraid I might catch something.” “What the hell are you talking about?” David snapped. “If it wasn’t for Linda, I would have starved! You’ve got a lot of nerve coming back here! I thought you were so tough.” I ignored him and started searching for my health report. He kept yelling. “Since you’re back, you better start behaving! You pull that face with me again, and you won’t see a single penny from me!” Linda awkwardly picked up her purse. “Well, since Susan’s back, I should probably get going.” 3 David rushed to see her out. I heard their hushed voices from the doorway. “David, you should go check on her,” Linda whispered. “I think she’s looking for that health report.” “Let her find it! Maybe when she sees she has terminal stomach cancer, she’ll finally shut up and stay by my side where she belongs.” “What do you mean? You mean you still have feelings for her?” “Of course not! While she’s alive, she’s a free maid. When she’s dead, I get a fat insurance payout. I’m going to use her until there’s nothing left!” I stared at the report in my hands. My own name, my own diagnosis: mid-stage stomach cancer. My mind went blank, and my hands started to tremble uncontrollably. The man I had painstakingly cared for for thirty years didn’t just see me as a free maid. He was actively waiting for me to die. I looked at the pot of chicken soup still simmering on the stove, and a cold resolve settled over me. If that’s how he wanted to play it, then I would stay. And I would put my heart and soul into every single meal I made from now on. The moment David walked back in, I ladled a bowl of chicken soup and placed it in front of him. “Drink this while it’s hot. I even added a few slices of ginseng for you.” He eyed me with suspicion. “What’s this all about?” I let out a soft sigh. “You’re right, I overreacted today. It was foolish to make such a scene over an ice cream cone.” A smug grin spread across his face. “It’s about time you came to your senses. Besides, where would you go without me?” My voice cracked as I replied, “You’re right. At my age, where else could I go? This house is all I have.” I pushed the soup towards him. He took it and drank the entire bowl in one gulp. I reached for a napkin to wipe his mouth, but he shoved my hand away. “Pathetic. From now on, just stick to your cooking and stay out of my business.” I nodded. “Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to put my heart into every meal.” As the words left my mouth, he clutched his stomach. “Ow! Why does my stomach suddenly hurt so much?” Watching him stumble towards the bathroom, I clenched the empty bowl in my hands. Ginseng and ice cream. That was just the appetizer. David, your reckoning is coming. From the day I “surrendered,” David became even more brazen. At first, he would meet Linda in secret. Now, he brought her right into our home. “You need to teach Linda how to cook properly,” he told me, his tone matter-of-fact. “That way, when you’re gone, she can take over for me.” I gripped the spatula so hard my nails dug into my palm. The old bastard! I wasn’t even dead yet, and he was already training my replacement. Linda chimed in with a sickeningly sweet smile. “David always says what an amazing cook you are. If you teach me, I can help out and you can finally get some rest.” The old me would have sent them packing with a hot pan. But now, I just smiled and nodded. “Of course. I’d be happy to. Just tell me what you want to learn.” And so, David began eating from two kitchens. He’d have lunch at Linda’s, then come home for the dinner I prepared. On the first day, I taught Linda how to make spicy crab. That evening, I served him a hearty beef and tomato stew. On the second day, I showed her how to pan-sear lamb chops. For dinner, I made a chilled watermelon and lotus seed soup. On the third day, I taught her a simple spinach stir-fry. That night, I made him scrambled eggs with loofah squash. In just three days, David’s face turned as sallow as old newspaper. He spent most of his time clutching the toilet, moaning in pain. The doctor couldn’t find anything wrong with him, just advised him to watch his diet and avoid street food. Hearing this, David became even more dedicated to eating our home-cooked meals. 4 A week later, he was nothing but skin and bones. That day, Linda stewed beef for him. I, on the other hand, prepared only a small plate of sugar-roasted chestnuts. When he came home that night, he slammed his briefcase down and flew into a rage. “The doctor told me I need to eat well to protect my stomach, and this is the crap you serve me?” I slowly peeled a chestnut, my voice low. “Do you remember what day it is?” “What day?” “It’s our thirtieth wedding anniversary.” I pushed the peeled chestnut towards him. “The day we got our marriage license, you peeled them for me just like this. You said our life together would always be as sweet as these chestnuts.” He scoffed, his face a mask of impatience. “We’re almost seventy. You really think I have time for this sentimental garbage? Just go make some real food!” I rose slowly, my eyes locked on his. “Do you know why you’ve been having such terrible diarrhea lately?” “Spicy crab with tomato stew. Seared lamb with watermelon soup. It was all part of a menu I carefully designed, just for you.” He shot to his feet, stumbling back a few steps. “What are you saying? You’ve been poisoning me?” I just stared at him in silence. He scrambled to the sink and began to retch violently. “You venomous bitch! I’m calling the police!” A cold smile touched my lips. “Go ahead. Call them right now.” I slapped the life insurance policy down on the table. “Let’s have the police see who bought a massive policy on me. Let them see who deliberately hid my cancer diagnosis from me. Let them see who’s been praying for me to die every single day!” He stared at me for a few seconds, and then a slow, cruel smile spread across his face. “So, you know. No point in hiding it anymore.” “That’s right, I’m waiting for you to die. But I didn’t give you terminal cancer. You can only blame your own bad luck for that.” “I suggest you go back to being a good little wife and taking care of me. You wouldn’t want to make this a bigger mess, would you? If you’re good, I might even buy you a nice burial plot.” I looked at his disgusting face and started to laugh. I pulled another health report from my bag and laid it in front of him. “Such a shame. I went back to the hospital a few days ago. Turns out, they made a mistake. They mixed up our names on the reports. The one with stomach cancer is you, David. Not me.” He snatched the report, his hands trembling as he read it. His face drained of all color. After a long moment, he looked up at me, his eyes wide with fear. “What are you going to do to me?” “You have terminal cancer. Do I really need to do anything? The divorce papers are on the table. I’ve already signed them.” “I’d suggest you call your dear Linda to take care of you. After all, your little pension won’t be enough to hire a nurse.” “Susan,” he whispered, his voice pleading. “You’re joking, right? This is a joke.” I let out a final, cold laugh, picked up my suitcase, and walked out of the house. He screamed my name behind me, but I didn’t turn back. This time, with a clean bill of health in my hand, I passed through security without a problem. But just as I was about to step onto the jet bridge, two police officers stopped me. “Are you Ms. Susan Clark? We’ve received a report that you are a suspect in an attempted murder. Please come with us.”

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During the holiday weekend road trip, Mark insisted on stopping at the abandoned rest stop. He said the car was stuffy and he needed some fresh air. He promised he’d be right back. I waited alone in the car for a full twenty minutes. A gnawing unease made it impossible to just sit there, so I finally got out to find him. When I reached the derelict gas station, the scene before me struck me like a bolt of lightning—Mark and Katina were locked in a passionate kiss. Katina was nestled in his arms, her voice a seductive purr. “Isn’t this thrilling? Your wife is waiting in the car, and you’re out here doing this with me.” Mark let out a low chuckle, his tone indulgent. “You little minx. Keep it down, you don’t want to make my wife angry.” I froze around the corner, my mind flashing back to when he was trying to win me over. I’d told him then that I despised cheaters more than anything in the world because my own father had ruined my mother’s life that way. He had looked me in the eye and said with the utmost seriousness, “Audrey, I would never do that to you. If I ever do… I’m yours to command.” Now, he had betrayed me after all. And everything I had ever given him—it was time to take it all back. 1 I answered a phone call, then turned and walked back to the car. “Audrey!” Mark called out from behind me. I didn’t stop. Katina’s voice followed, laced with tears. “Audrey… I’m so sorry… It’s all my fault…” I pulled open the driver’s side door. “Audrey.” Mark caught up, blocking my way. “Give me the keys,” I said, my voice trembling. “My grandmother is dying. I have to go see her one last time.” “I’ll have someone take care of things with your grandma,” he said after a pause. “The best specialists. They can be there tonight.” I stared at him. Katina had followed, her eyes red as she whispered, “Audrey, please don’t blame Mark… It was me… I seduced him…” Her voice broke, and she hunched her shoulders, looking like a frightened rabbit. Mark glanced at her, then back at me. “Look at her,” he said, his eyes filled with a pained tenderness for her. “She’s a wreck. What more do you want from her?” Katina kept her head down, her shoulders shaking as tears splattered on the pavement. I suddenly remembered her first day at the office. She had stood timidly at my door, holding a bubble tea. “For you, Audrey.” I never drank it. Mark said he did, and that she was a sweet kid. Later, I took pity on her, a girl who had clawed her way out of a small town all by herself. It wasn’t easy. I helped her with everything, at work and in her personal life. When I couldn’t help, I asked Mark to. And just like that, they helped each other right into the same bed. “Mark,” I said, turning to face him. “My grandmother raised me. She’s in the ICU right now, and I need to see her one last time.” “You know how much she means to me, Mark.” My voice was shaking uncontrollably. He didn’t say anything. My phone vibrated again. A text from my mom: Grandma is fading. Where are you? I gripped the phone, my knuckles turning white. Mark saw it. He was silent for a moment, then reached out and gently wiped a tear from the corner of my eye. “Don’t cry,” he whispered, his thumb resting on my cheek for a second. “Grandma will be fine. Trust me.” “Just let her apologize,” he said. “She feels terrible. All you have to do is nod. Then I’ll give you the keys.” Katina sniffled beside him, nodding. “Audrey… please accept my apology… I’ll never be able to live with myself if you don’t…” My grandmother was waiting for me. “Fine,” I said. Katina immediately started, “Audrey, I’m so sorry, it’s all my—” “That’s enough,” I cut her off, my eyes fixed on Mark. “The keys.” Mark handed them to me. “Drive safe. I’ll stay with Katina for a couple of days, and then I’ll come find you.” I ignored him, got in the car, and slammed the door. I put the key in the ignition and turned. The engine roared to life. The car didn’t move. I tried again. The wheels were stuck fast. I got out and saw a large, dark puddle spreading on the ground beneath the car. Someone had punctured the gas tank. Mark walked over and glanced under the chassis, frowning. Katina bit her lip, her voice a tiny whisper. “Audrey… I did it. I just wanted a little more time with Mark… I’m sorry…” Mark reached out and tucked a stray piece of my hair behind my ear. “Don’t be angry,” he said. “I’ll have someone come fix it later.” “You wait in the car,” he said, turning to put his arm around Katina. “I’ll see if I can find some tools.” Katina leaned into his embrace and glanced back at me. Tears still stained her cheeks, but the corner of her mouth twitched into a faint smirk. The sight of them walking away together, his arm around her, was like a knife in my eyes. Just then, my phone buzzed. It was a text from my mom: [Honey, Grandma keeps calling your name. Please hurry.] I stared at the words, my hand clenching around the phone. Then, I pulled the diamond ring from my finger. 2 I had to see my grandmother. I searched the entire rest stop. There were no other cars. No other people. No tools. The cell signal was spotty at best. I finally found a place with a decent connection and called for roadside assistance. But the nearest tow truck wouldn’t be able to get here until morning. A section of the highway had collapsed. I hung up just as Mark walked over. “Audrey, let’s just wait until morning,” he said. “Look, you’ve scraped your arm. Come on, don’t make me worry.” I ignored him. A moment later, my phone lit up. It was my grandmother. I answered immediately. “Grandma.” “Audrey…” Her voice was so weak. “When will you be here?” “I’m on my way, Grandma. I’ll be there soon.” “Oh, honey, I miss you. When you were little, you used to love curling up in my lap and having me tell you stories…” “Grandma, save your strength—” “I’m afraid I’m running out of time,” she said with a soft laugh. “When your grandpa passed, I never got to say a final goodbye. Audrey, you have to live a good life.” Tears streamed down my face. “Audrey, that boy, Mark. Is he good to you?” I didn’t answer. “Audrey.” Mark came up behind me. “Let me use your phone,” he said. “Katina’s is dead, and she needs to send a work email.” I clutched the phone tighter and turned my back to him. “I’m on a call. My grandmother—” “I know,” he said, stepping in front of me. “Just for a minute. She’ll give it right back.” “No.” Mark’s brow furrowed. From the phone, I could hear my grandmother’s faint voice: “Audrey? Honey, are you still there?” “Audrey,” his voice dropped, “this client is crucial for Katina. It determines whether she gets a permanent position.” “I said no.” Katina had appeared at some point, standing behind Mark, her eyes red. “Audrey… please… just for a second… it’s really urgent…” Her voice trembled, and fresh tears welled up. “I won’t be long… I’m begging you…” Mark saw her tears, and when he looked back at me, his expression had hardened. “Give it to me.” He held out his hand. I hid the phone behind my back. “Mark, my grandmother is in the ICU—” He didn’t let me finish. He grabbed my wrist and pried my fingers open. He was so much stronger than me. I held on, my nails digging into my own palm. “Mark!” He yanked it free. He turned and handed the phone to Katina. She took it, tears still on her face, and immediately started typing. I stood there, frozen. My grandmother’s last word, “Audrey?”, echoed in my ear. I wanted to snatch it back. Mark blocked me, his face clouded with anger. “It’s one minute. Can’t you wait?” I looked into his eyes. The same eyes that used to look at me with so much love. Now, there was nothing there. Katina finished and handed the phone back. I looked down. The screen showed her social media profile. She had just posted a new picture. It was a photo of her and Mark at the gas station. His arm was around her waist, and her head was resting on his shoulder. The caption read: [Happy holiday weekend! So happy to be out with my man] I stared at the words. Posted from my phone. A picture of her with my husband. During my grandmother’s last phone call. I looked up at Mark. He glanced at the screen and said dismissively, “She’s just messing around. Why are you making such a big deal out of it?” Messing around. I looked back at my phone. The call with my grandmother had been disconnected. I tried to call back. Her phone was off. I stood there, shaking. Mark came over. “What’s wrong?” I didn’t look at him. “The call with my grandmother dropped.” “Her battery probably died—” Mark was silent for a few seconds. “I’ll figure something out first thing in the morning,” he said. “Don’t panic.” Don’t panic. My grandmother could be dying. She could already be— And he was telling me not to panic. I lifted my head and looked straight at him. “Mark.” “Yeah?” I held his gaze. “Let’s get a divorce.” 3 Mark’s expression finally changed. “What did you just say?” “A divorce. We’ll file as soon as we get back.” He stared at me for a few long seconds. “Audrey—I…” “Ahh—!” Katina’s shriek cut him off. She was crouched by a bench, clutching her leg, her face pale. “A snake! There’s a snake!” she cried, her voice trembling. “It bit me…” Mark glanced at me. Then he turned and ran to her. He knelt down, examining the wound on her calf. Katina grabbed his arm, sobbing hysterically. “Mark, am I going to die…?” “No, you’re not.” Mark ripped a strip of fabric from the bottom of his shirt and tied it tightly above the bite. Just then, we heard the sound of an engine in the distance. Help had arrived. A tow truck pulled up, and the driver hopped out. “You the ones who called for a tow?” Mark stood up and pointed at Katina. “She’s been bitten by a snake. We need to get her to a hospital, now.” The driver looked at Katina’s leg, then at me. “There’s only room for two in the cab. You can ride on the flatbed, but it ain’t safe.” Mark didn’t hesitate. He pulled open the passenger door and helped Katina inside. Then he looked back at me. “Audrey, you wait here. I’ll take her to the hospital, then I’ll call a car for you.” “How long will I have to wait?” I asked. “It won’t be long.” It won’t be long. Again. He got in the truck and closed the door without a moment’s hesitation. I watched, paralyzed, as Mark drove away with another woman. And he left me here. I stood alone at the rest stop. No car. No signal. No water. No food. Mark never looked back. He wasn’t coming back for me. I knew it. Not because he didn’t care anymore, but because he was so sure that I would wait for him. Just like every other time he’d told me to wait, and I had. I rummaged through my bag in the trunk and took stock. Wallet, ID, one credit card. It was enough. I started walking along the highway. I didn’t know how far it was to the next town, or how long it would take. The blisters on my feet had already burst, and every step was agony, but I didn’t stop. 4 After about an hour of walking, headlights appeared behind me. A trucker pulled over. “Hey there, what’s a young lady like you doing out here all alone?” “My car broke down. Could you give me a ride? Just to the next town with a train station.” “Hop in.” In town, I bought a ticket for the earliest train. Once on board, I borrowed a power bank and turned on my phone. Dozens of messages flooded in. Not a single one was from Mark. I dialed my lawyer’s number directly. “Mr. Harris, I need you to draw up divorce papers.” “I want him to walk away with nothing.” There was a pause on the other end. “Leave him with nothing? That’s going to be difficult, unless there’s proof of gross misconduct—” “He had an affair. I have proof. Also, that major client his company has, Vertex Corp? I was the one who brought them in. Their contract is up for renewal next month, and I’ve already spoken with them. They won’t be renewing.” “…Understood. I’ll draft the agreement immediately.” After hanging up, I called my assistant. “Sophie, book me a flight out of the country for this afternoon. Anywhere. The sooner, the better.” “Ms. Vance, are you alright?” “I’m fine,” I said. It was two days before Mark finally had his assistant contact me. “Ben, I need you to get in touch with Audrey for me. Her phone’s off. Tell her I’m at the hospital, Katina is still in critical condition, and I can’t leave. Tell her to wait for me at the rest stop, I’ll send someone for her later.” Ben hesitated. “Mr. Arnold, Ms. Vance… she’s already back.” “What?” “Sir, we’ve… we’ve received a divorce agreement from her lawyer. And… a notice of contract termination from Vertex Corp.” Mark’s mind went completely blank. He stood frozen, all the strength draining from his body. He didn’t move for a long time. “Mr. Arnold? Sir, are you still there?”

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1 A sudden car crash left me lying on the operating table. The moment the anesthesia failed, I opened my eyes in agonizing pain. The lead surgeon standing over me was my husband, Dr. Roe Hayes. His face showed absolutely no surprise. His voice was as casual as if he were discussing the weather. “The people who hit you were your parents,” he said. The words pierced my heart like an ice pick. I trembled, trying to demand an answer, but he didn’t even blink. The cold surgical instruments moved inside me. His voice carried a sick sense of vindictive pleasure. “A year ago, you caused my sister to miscarry. She almost died.” “Now, I am personally removing your three-month-old fetus. Consider us even.” When he held up that tiny, unformed embryo right before my eyes, the reality of what I had just lost finally hit me. A gut-wrenching, soul-tearing hatred surged up my throat, only to be swallowed by a deeper, physical agony. He ordered the nurse to dispose of the tiny life, then turned back to me, his tone conversational. “We either get a divorce so I can openly give her the happiness she deserves…” Seeing my face covered in tears, he added one final condition. “…Or we stay married, but you must accept me taking care of her. You are never allowed to cause her trouble again.” Those words were the final straw that crushed my already snapping nerves. My vision went black, and I passed out entirely. When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in a hospital recovery room. Roe was sitting by the bed, holding a steaming bowl of chicken soup. His gentle tone made it seem like the nightmare in the operating room had never happened. “I made this for Chloe. She couldn’t finish it, so she told me to bring it to you to help you recover.” Hearing the tenderness when he said the name Chloe snapped me back to reality. A wave of nausea hit me. I violently slapped the hot soup away. “Tell me,” I rasped. “When did the two of you start sleeping together?” The bowl shattered on the floor, the scalding liquid burning the back of my hand. Roe slowly wiped the spilled broth from his scrubs. His expression shifted to one of cold amusement. “Hard to say. If you mean the first time we slept together, that was a year ago on our wedding anniversary. Right there in my office. For as long as you kept calling my phone, we kept going.” A loud ringing exploded in my ears. My mind went completely blank. So that night, they had been together the entire time. No wonder I called him dozens of times and he never picked up, only texting back hours later saying he had just gotten out of surgery. I thought he was saving lives. I didn’t blame him. I even brought him late-night takeout. Not long after that, my younger sister, Chloe, was beaten so badly she miscarried after being caught sleeping with a married man. She called me for help. Worried about her reputation, I quietly paid off the angry wife and stayed by Chloe’s side in the hospital until she was discharged. It was exactly after her surgery that Roe’s attitude toward me turned freezing cold. He constantly used being “on-call” as an excuse to not come home for days. Our intimacy dropped from three times a week to me begging just to get his attention once. I thought the distance was just because we were both so busy with our careers. So, I gave up my chance to be promoted to regional manager. I became a stay-at-home wife, dedicating my life to taking care of him. People laughed at me for throwing away my career, but I did it willingly because I loved him. I thought if I just tried harder, our marriage would go back to how it used to be. I never imagined his heart had already been given to someone else—and that someone was my own sister. He had even murdered my deeply longed-for child just for her. I stared dead at Roe, my throat so raw I could barely make a sound. “I’m so sorry, Val!” My sister, Chloe, suddenly burst into the hospital room. With red, teary eyes, she threw herself at the side of my bed, intentionally pressing her hands down hard onto my fresh surgical wound through the blankets. “It’s all my fault! I didn’t mean to hurt you…” Roe immediately reached out to support her, his eyes softening to absolute tenderness. But when he looked at me, his gaze turned to pure ice. “Don’t blame her. She begged me to keep this a secret forever. I just couldn’t stand seeing her suffer in silence anymore. I want to give her a real future.” My heart felt like it was being ripped apart by bare hands. The pain made it impossible to breathe. With bloodshot eyes, I screamed. “What suffering?! I didn’t cause her miscarriage!” “You want to give her a future, so you personally murder our baby?!” The moment the words left my mouth, Roe’s eyes turned lethal. His voice dripped with mockery. “Valerie, why are you playing the victim? Three years ago, when my career was on the line, you left a divorce agreement on the table and vanished without a trace. I never blamed you for that, did I?” 2 I froze in place. Roe continued, his face devoid of emotion. “Back then, it was Chloe who went through hell to get that audio recording to prove my innocence. She was almost pushed off a balcony and killed for it. And when it was all over, it was Chloe who flew to Europe with me to help me recover mentally. You didn’t even ask if I was okay. So what victim are you pretending to be now?” The blood in my veins turned to ice. Memories from three years ago rushed back. Roe had been maliciously sued by a patient’s family, who claimed he intentionally let the patient die because they didn’t pay him a bribe. His reputation was destroyed, and he was facing prison time. To clear his name, I secretly tracked down the family. While arguing with them, I managed to secretly record them admitting they had fabricated the entire story. But as I tried to leave, they realized what I had done and pushed me down a flight of concrete stairs. I broke my leg and lost the baby I had just found out I was carrying. The doctors told me I might walk with a limp forever and that it would be incredibly difficult for me to ever get pregnant again. I didn’t want to drag Roe down, and I didn’t want him to spend the rest of his life feeling guilty because of what happened to me. So, I gave the flash drive with the recording to Chloe, asking her to hand it over to him. I also signed a divorce agreement, telling her to give it to him if things got too hard. Then, I quietly left the city to hide in a rehab clinic. During those two months of painful physical therapy, Roe never tried to contact me. I assumed he was buried in legal battles. It wasn’t until I finally healed and went home that I found out his name had been cleared weeks ago. He was just vacationing in Europe. I didn’t want to ruin his trip, so I chose to keep my injuries a secret. When he returned, he never brought it up. I thought the lawsuit had traumatized him so much that we were just silently agreeing to leave the past behind. But the truth was, while I was doing agonizing physical therapy just so I could walk back into his arms, Chloe had stolen the credit for saving his life. She stayed by his side day and night. And he—without ever even asking me for the truth—had started hating me to his core. I remembered the day we got married. He held my hands and said, “I will stand by you unconditionally for the rest of my life. I will always believe in you. No matter what happens, nothing will ever tear us apart.” The metallic taste of blood rose in my throat. I lifted my red-rimmed eyes to look at Chloe. “How was your miscarriage my fault? You were the one who slept with a married…” “Ugh!” Chloe suddenly let out a dramatic gag, cutting me off. Roe immediately tensed, holding her by the shoulders. “Are you feeling sick again?” Suddenly, I realized what was happening. “You’re pregnant?” Chloe immediately chimed in. “I’m sorry, Val. I’m carrying Roe’s baby…” Roe nodded without an ounce of shame. “Two months. Twins. I’m having Chloe move into the house so I can take care of her and the babies properly. That nursery you set up will be put to good use.” I had designed that nursery myself. Every piece of furniture, every stuffed animal, I had picked out by hand. I had fantasized countless times about the baby Roe and I would share. And now, I was watching him have children with my own sister. I practically coughed up blood. My voice was a broken rasp. “What about our baby? Roe, that was your own flesh and blood too!” Roe didn’t even blink. “That worthless mistake is already in the biohazard bin.” 3 Those cold words stabbed through my heart like rusted knives. I remembered all the times Roe had whispered in my ear, “Val, I want a baby with you so badly.” Yet he had murdered my child, just so he couldn’t wait to let Chloe carry his. An immense wave of grief and rage swallowed me whole. I grabbed the heavy glass vase from the nightstand and hurled it at them with everything I had. “Get out! Both of you, get the hell out!” As the vase shattered, Roe instinctively pulled Chloe into his arms to shield her from the glass. He turned his head to glare at me, his eyes piercingly cold. “If you can’t handle it, sign the divorce papers. Your parents are already pushing me to marry Chloe as soon as possible. They’ve even picked out names for the twins.” I suddenly remembered what he had said in the operating room: The people who hit you were your parents. So, my parents had known about their affair this entire time. The people I loved most in the world had all betrayed me. It was a pain so absolute, I couldn’t even force out a single tear. I screamed until my voice gave out, chasing them out of the room. I curled into a ball under the thin hospital blanket, shivering violently. The next day, my parents came to the hospital. My father’s tone was harsh and commanding. “What kind of older sister are you? Chloe has always been weaker than you since she was in the womb! Because of you, she lost a baby and almost had to get her uterus removed! Now that she finally has a chance at happiness with Roe, you refuse to divorce him? Are you trying to kill her again?” My mother wiped away fake tears. “They say twins have a telepathic connection, that they’re the closest people in the world. How can your heart be so vicious?” There was no wind in the hospital room, but a freezing chill seeped straight into my bones. I laughed. I laughed until tears finally streamed down my face. “Oh, so you remember we’re twins? I was born exactly three minutes before her! When we were kids, you forced me to let her have everything. Now you expect me to give her my husband too?” “But she is the younger sister! You can’t change that fact!” my mother raised her voice, acting indignant. “If you don’t divorce him, who are Chloe’s babies supposed to call Dad? Do you want her and her children to live in the shadows forever?” “So, you ran me over with your car? Just to clear the way for her? Why didn’t you just kill me?” The moment the words left my mouth, dead silence filled the room. There wasn’t a single trace of guilt on their faces—only annoyance. I clenched my teeth. “I will never sign those papers. I want her to live in the shadows forever. I want her kids to be known as illegitimate bastards!” Smack! My father slapped me hard across the face. “Ungrateful bitch! If I knew you were this toxic, I would have strangled you the minute you were born!” My cheek burned, but the pain in my chest was worse. Five years ago, when my father was hospitalized with liver cancer, I starved myself for a month to lose twenty pounds so I could donate a piece of my liver to save his life. I thought if I sacrificed enough, I could finally earn my parents’ love. But it was never enough. They always wanted more. They wanted to drain my blood and eat my flesh. Seeing I wasn’t backing down, my mother pretended she was going to faint, and my father raised his hand to hit me again. I looked at them one last time. My heart finally died. “Fine. I’ll sign it. I’ll go pack my things today, and from now on, you are no longer my parents.” If I couldn’t have it, I didn’t want any of it. I returned to the house I shared with Roe. As soon as I walked through the front door, I heard sickeningly explicit groans coming from the nursery. “Roe… what if Val catches us in here…” Roe’s voice was thick with lust. “Hold on tighter, baby… Let her find out. Whether she signs the papers or not, you are the only woman I will ever love.” A tidal wave of memories crashed over me. When we first met at the hospital, it was love at first sight for Roe. Known as the untouchable, elite surgeon, he acted like he was addicted to me. To win me over, he cooked and delivered meals to my office every day. The first thing he did after a fourteen-hour surgery was drive to see me. He dropped to one knee at a crowded concert to propose, begging me to stay by his side for the rest of his life. He made me believe in love. He made me think I was his only exception. Suddenly, a weak whimper pulled me back to reality. I followed the sound. It was my six-year-old golden retriever, Buster. He was lying on the floor, a massive pool of blood around his mouth. He was taking shallow, ragged breaths. “Buster…” I dropped to my knees to pick him up and rush him to the vet. But he just looked at me one last time, let out a soft sigh, and stopped breathing in my arms. He had been waiting for me. He waited until he saw me, and then he let go. My mind went completely blank. A soul-shredding agony ripped away the last of my sanity. I kicked the nursery door open. The two of them scrambled apart in panic. Before I could even step forward, Chloe acted as if I had terrified her. She deliberately threw herself backward onto the hardwood floor, letting out a piercing scream and clutching her stomach. “Roe! My stomach hurts so much! The babies… my babies!” Roe’s face went pale. “Don’t panic, I’m taking you to the hospital right now!” He spun around wildly, grabbing clothes off the floor. While his back was turned, Chloe suddenly stopped screaming. She looked at me and flashed a sinister, triumphant smile. “So what if I kicked your stupid dog to death, Val?” she whispered. “All it takes is one word from me, and your baby is dead. You really think you can beat me?” 4 Looking at that face that was nearly identical to my own, the blood rushed to my head. “You psychotic bitch!” I lunged forward, reaching out to wrap my hands around her throat. But before I could even touch her, Roe delivered a brutal kick right into my stomach. “Are you insane?! She’s bleeding and you’re still trying to kill her?! It was just a damn dog!” The dog wasn’t important. The babies were. And I wasn’t. The force of his kick was massive. I was essentially launched backward, crashing hard against the floor. The fresh surgical stitches on my stomach ripped open. Blood poured out, soaking my shirt. Roe looked down at the blood spreading across my stomach. For a fraction of a second, a flash of hesitation crossed his eyes. But then Chloe started screaming again. “Roe… it hurts so much…” “I’ve got you. I won’t let anything happen to you!” He didn’t look at me again. He scooped Chloe into his arms and bolted out the door. By the time he reached the front yard, a crowd of nosy neighbors had already gathered, whispering and holding up their phones to record. Roe didn’t slow down. He shoved through the crowd and carried her away. Through the blurry haze of pain, I saw Chloe peek over his shoulder, giving me one last victorious smirk. I tried to push myself off the floor, but a blinding wave of pain ripped through my abdomen. I collapsed and lost consciousness. When I opened my eyes again, I was tied to a bed in a beachfront vacation cabin. It was the property Roe had bought in my name, a place he used to bring me when he took time off work. But right now, I was hogtied on the mattress. Standing in front of me were three overweight men, covered in disgusting sores and pustules, staring at me like hungry wolves. In the corner of the room, a camera on a tripod was pointed directly at the bed. Realizing what was about to happen, my entire body began to violently shake. I looked toward the doorway, where Roe was standing, his face entirely devoid of emotion. “Roe, what the hell are you doing? No matter what happened, I am still your wife…” This was the man who swore he would support me unconditionally, who promised he would always be on my side. But when he opened his mouth, his voice was dripping with venom. “Valerie, not only did you cause Chloe to almost lose the babies, but you let the neighbors film the whole thing. Now it’s all over the internet. She’s getting cyberbullied. You don’t deserve to be her sister!” “Three years ago, after what you did to me, I never abandoned you! I even thought that if you refused to sign the divorce papers, I would just let it go. We could stay married, even if it was just on paper. But what did you do? Is this how you repay my mercy?” “These three men are patients I pulled from an infectious disease ward… Don’t worry, I won’t let them actually r*pe you. I’m just having them pose with you. We’ll take some photos and post them online. I want you to experience the exact same pain Chloe is feeling. I want you to know what it feels like to have your dignity dragged through the mud.” Seeing him turn to leave, I suddenly remembered something. A year ago, when Chloe was hospitalized for her miscarriage, a man came to visit her. That man was one of Roe’s colleagues from the surgical department! I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Chloe played you, Roe! A year ago, she didn’t get hit by a car! She was caught sleeping with a married man and the man’s wife beat the baby out of her! That man was your coworker! And three years ago, I didn’t abandon you, I—” “Shut up! You literally ran her over, and now you have the nerve to frame her?!” Roe looked at me with pure, unadulterated hatred. “You walked out on me when I needed you most, Valerie. You have no heart!” As I stared at him in sheer disbelief, he delivered the final, fatal blow. “By the way, I had your mother skin that dog of yours and boil it into a stew for Chloe. Dog meat is highly nutritious for pregnant women.” Boom. My brain completely shut down. Buster had been with me for six years. When Roe and Chloe were vacationing in Europe and I was home alone recovering from broken bones and a lost pregnancy, Buster was the only one who stayed by my side. I could see his little head resting on my knees. I could see every moment of the last five years I had spent with Roe. The pain was so excruciating it felt like I was being sliced alive. After Roe walked out the door, the three men lunged toward the bed. “All those stuck-up bitches think we’re disgusting… We haven’t had a taste of a real woman in years…” My scalp prickled with terror. “Roe told you to just take pictures!” “Yeah, well, your sister gave us different orders. She said if we’re gonna put on a show, we might as well make it real. Don’t worry, we’ll make sure you enjoy it.” I shook violently, screaming for help, but Roe was already gone. Just as they ripped my shirt, my hand brushed against a heavy glass lamp on the nightstand. I grabbed it and smashed it directly into the face of the closest man. While the other two recoiled in shock, I scrambled off the bed, sprinted out of the room, and bolted out the front door. By the side of the road, Roe was opening the door to his SUV. Behind me, the sound of heavy footsteps grew closer. I opened my mouth to scream for Roe, but before I could make a sound, I saw Chloe lean out of the passenger side window. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and they kissed deeply. Despair crashed over me like a tidal wave. I thought of my murdered child. My dead dog. My parents who sold me out. And the man who had just died in my heart. I knew I couldn’t outrun those men. And honestly, I didn’t want to run anymore. Without a second of hesitation, I turned sharply and sprinted straight toward the jagged cliff edge. The roaring ocean crashed against the rocks below. I spread my arms and threw myself into the void. In the moment of freefall, I thought I heard Roe’s voice, screaming with a completely raw, desperate agony. “Valerie! No!”

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1 The men at the Institute took his money and cut out a piece of my brain. My frontal lobe. Now, I’m a puppet, devoid of emotion, existing only to obey. It all started when my sister’s assistant, Ryan, showed up with a forged paternity test, claiming I was an imposter. He wept, telling my family I’d used my position as the family heir to lord over him, that I’d broken his leg in a fit of rage. To make it up to him, they sent me to the Institute. When I got out, I just nodded and agreed to whatever they said. Ryan, disgusted, told me to jump in the pool and wash myself clean. I did. My parents pulled me from the bottom of the pool, their faces masks of horror. My sister, Sophia, accused me of putting on a show. She demanded I break my own leg as an apology. I turned and walked straight into oncoming traffic. She yanked me back, her hand trembling uncontrollably. Later, Ryan framed me again, claiming I’d drugged him and thrown him to a woman with an STD. Sophia slapped me, spitting that if he got sick, I was dead. I picked up a knife and aimed it at my heart. My parents froze in the doorway. Sophia grabbed my hand, her grip like a vice. She called me an idiot, asking why I did everything anyone told me to. I’m not an idiot. … The tip of the blade broke the skin, a sharp, wet sound piercing the silence. It was only millimeters from my heart, but I felt nothing. My hand moved to push it deeper. Sophia, her hands slick with my blood, wrenched the knife away. “Nolan! Are you insane?!” But my eyes didn’t even blink. Her shock was absolute. I wasn’t insane. They had performed a lobotomy on me. I had no emotions. I didn’t know what pain was. My mother’s eyes welled with tears. “Nolan, what are you doing?” My father, heartbroken, slapped me across the face, trying to knock some sense into me. “You animal! Your sister was kind enough to bring you home! Who are you trying to guilt-trip with this pathetic act?!” Only then did I stop. Without an order from my family, I didn’t dare continue. I just curled up on the floor. My docile state only seemed to infuriate Sophia more. “Nolan! Stop playing the fool who can’t understand a word! The Ashtons took you back, what more could you possibly want?!” I answered like a machine. “I want for nothing. My sister said I nearly got Ryan infected. I was carrying out my sister’s punishment.” Seven years of “re-education” had taught me that resistance was pointless. Obedience was survival. The slightest frown would earn me unspeakable torture at the Institute. A moment later, the world went black as I passed out from blood loss. At the hospital, the doctor who was supposed to be treating me was called away by Ryan, who was suddenly complaining that his old leg injury was acting up. A nurse just poured alcohol directly onto my open wound. The sting woke me, and the first thing I heard was Ryan’s voice, dripping with false sincerity. “Nolan, man, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have come back and… taken your place. Don’t do this self-pity routine, please. It just makes the family hate me more.” “I haven’t seen you in seven years,” he continued, “but I’ve felt guilty every single day.” A lie. I remembered him clearly. He was the one who told the Institute to perform the surgery. Strange. Why wouldn’t he admit he’d visited me? Blood was still seeping from the gash in my chest. Just as my sister was about to call for a doctor for me, Ryan turned away, his face pale. My mother gasped. “Ryan’s faint at the sight of blood! Someone treat Nolan’s wound, quickly!” Before a doctor could even approach, I had already torn off my shirt, balled it up, and shoved it hard against the wound. At the Institute, when they beat me until I was a bruised mess, I often used my clothes as bandages. The infections nearly killed me a few times. Ryan sucked in a sharp breath. “Nolan, I’m sorry. It’s my fault the doctor left.” Sophia pushed down the flicker of pity she felt for me, her brow furrowed in a deep scowl. “Do you really need the victim to apologize to you?” she snapped. “Seven years of re-education, and the Institute didn’t teach you the price of your mistakes?” Of course they did. I dropped to my knees in front of Ryan, dragging my injured leg as I slammed my forehead against the floor. “Ryan, it’s all my fault! If you’re still not satisfied, I promise the next time I stab myself, I’ll finish the job!” Ryan sighed dramatically. “You lied to this family for seven years. Are you going to keep treating us like fools?” To make him believe me, I started stabbing myself again, each cut deep enough to show bone. For seven years, this was the only way I could earn a bowl of spoiled leftovers at the Institute. Covered in fresh blood, I offered a placating smile. “Do you believe me now, Ryan?” Sophia’s voice was sharp as glass. “You’re disgusting!” “The party is about to start. Stop embarrassing the Ashton family!” As they left, Ryan leaned in close, his eyes glinting. “Nolan,” he whispered, “if you want us to believe you, get on your knees and wash my feet. In front of everyone at the party tonight. Then we’ll know you’re not acting.” I nodded forcefully. After a quick, messy bandaging job, I made my way to the Ashton’s grand ballroom. My mother flinched at the sight of me, wrapped head to toe in gauze. “Nolan, you should be in the hospital! What are you doing here?” Ignoring the confused stares of the guests, I walked directly to Ryan and knelt at his feet. Ignoring the fire in my own wounds, I began to remove his leather shoes to wash his feet. Ryan “accidentally” ground his heel into an open cut on my foot. When my hand trembled, spilling the basin of water, his face twisted from a smirk to a mask of feigned terror. “Nolan! You… you burned me with hot water!” The scalding water had drenched my clothes and skin, but I ignored the searing pain and kept my head bowed to the floor. “I’m sorry, brother.” The guests around us turned pale at the sight of my bloody, mangled wounds. Sophia, however, rushed to his side, cradling the foot that had been splashed. “Ryan, are you okay?” He winced. “Sophia, he’s just trying to drive me away! I… I should just leave the Ashton family for good…” He stood to leave, ignoring Sophia’s protests as she hurried after him. But a friend of the family, a neuroscientist, grabbed her arm, his expression grave. “Sophia, wait. Look at Nolan. Something’s not right with him…” She shot an irritated glance back at me. The skin scalded by the water was already peeling away as I scrubbed at the floor. Blood soaked through the bandages on my torso, but I seemed completely unaware, focused only on cleaning the spill. They didn’t know that at the Institute, a single drop of blood left on the floor meant a thousand times more punishment. “It’s like he doesn’t feel pain anymore,” the doctor said, his voice low. “He’s just a machine executing commands. A normal person wouldn’t mutilate themselves just to follow an order. Sophia, there’s something seriously wrong with his brain!” “That’s impossible,” she murmured, but she hesitated. My father, embarrassed by the scene, scowled. “I doubt it. Making a scene at an event like this… If he’s so committed to the act, why doesn’t he just kill himself?” Without a second thought, I agreed. I grabbed a steak knife from a nearby table and plunged it toward my heart. The doctor moved like lightning, catching my wrist. “Stop!” I obediently froze. Crash. Sophia’s wine glass shattered on the marble floor. My father stood paralyzed. My mother’s eyes filled with tears again. “That boy… could something have really happened to him at the Institute? Even if he’s not our blood, we raised him for so many years…” Strange. I thought they hated me. Why did they seem so afraid of losing me? My mother stared at my wounds, at a loss. My father’s gaze was a mixture of irritation and scrutiny. After a moment, seeing I wasn’t dead, Sophia’s anger returned. She ordered the butler, “Get him out of here. I don’t want Ryan to see him and get upset!” They tied me up in the garden. No one dared to bring me food. For three days, I drank from the sprinkler hose to survive. I slept curled in a pile of dead leaves. Ryan would cruise by in the Maybach, whistling at me like a dog. I’d smile back instinctively, and he’d sneer with open contempt. “Pathetic.” Was I? I didn’t think so. Compared to the seven years of endless darkness and oppression, sleeping here was paradise. One day, Ryan had the driver stop the car. He held out his wrist to me. “Look at you, Nolan. A pathetic stray. What’s the difference between you and a dog?” I gave my customary, agreeable smile. He patted my head. “Good dog. Now, be a good boy and bite me.” I bared my teeth and bit down. The next second, a sharp slap sent my head ringing. Sophia had arrived. “Have you completely lost your mind? When did you learn to bite people like an animal?” I didn’t argue. I just smiled, like a dog. Ryan scrambled behind his sister, feigning terror. “Sophia, look at him! He’s smiling at me! It’s terrifying!” Sophia’s face was a mask of ice. She ordered the bodyguards to take me to a psychiatric hospital. “I think you’ve really lost your mind. Go in there and get it treated!” I memorized her words. That night, I swallowed an entire bottle of powerful sedatives. By the time the night nurse noticed something was wrong, my bed was soaked in the black blood I had vomited. The first thing I saw when I regained consciousness was my mother, sobbing uncontrollably as she gently stroked my hair. “How did my Nolan become like this? He wasn’t… he wasn’t like this before…” She was right. The boy I used to be—bright, dazzling, proud—was dead. He died the day he was thrown into the Institute. A flicker of pity crossed my father’s face, but his words were still sharp. “He’s not our biological son, after all. Bad genes. He’s probably resentful now that he knows the truth, trying to use us, to harm us…” I wanted to say, No, I would never hurt you. But the oxygen tube in my throat silenced me. Ryan’s choked voice reached my ears. “Mom, Dad… if Nolan wakes up and really holds a grudge against me… I don’t think it will be just my leg he breaks this time.” Sophia let out a soft sigh, then made a promise to soothe him. “I’ll pay the hospital ten times their usual fee to… delay Nolan’s medication.” “It would be better… if he just died here.” I suddenly understood what my family wanted. The moment I regained a sliver of strength, I used all of it to rip the tube from my throat. My heart rate and blood pressure monitors screamed. The blaring alarm drained the color from Sophia’s face. She yelled instinctively. “Doctor! Help my brother! Please!” Ryan’s smile vanished, his eyes flashing with jealousy. The doctor who saved me clutched his chest, catching his breath. “A few more seconds and he would have been gone! What kind of family are you, leaving him unattended like this?!” My parents and Sophia stared, speechless, before stammering apologies. Lying on the edge of death, I was utterly confused. Didn’t they want me to die? Why did they save me when I was so close? Ryan’s voice cracked with rage. “Nolan, are you done with your act? It looks like seven years did nothing to fix you!” “I’m going to have Mom and Dad send you back to the Institute!” I listened quietly, my face a blank slate. But unexpectedly, Sophia hesitated, a frown creasing her brow. “Send him back… What if something happens?” My parents fell silent, thinking. After all, when they’d brought me home, I was twenty pounds lighter, covered in bruises, a ghost of my former self. Ryan turned to me. “Nolan, answer me. Are you willing to go back to the Institute to continue your re-education?” I nodded obediently. “Yes. Thank you, Ryan.” A short while later, as Ryan was handling my discharge papers, he gave me a cruel smile. “You’re going back there to die, Nolan.” I had no complaints. I just followed him. He ordered me to get into the driver’s seat of the car. “Get in, start the car, and step on the gas. Aim for me.” I nodded, confused, and was just about to press the accelerator when the Ashton’s Maybach screeched to a halt, cutting me off. A bodyguard ripped my door open and dragged me out. “Nolan! Have you had enough?!” My sister was trembling with rage. “You tried to run Ryan down!” My mother stared at me, her eyes filled with a profound disappointment, before turning to comfort Ryan through her tears. “Ryan, you’ve suffered so much. From this moment on, the Ashton family will show him no more mercy!” I knew I had made them angry again. And mistakes have consequences. I slammed my head against the car. I heard the crack of my frontal bone as it fractured. Ryan’s eyes widened in fake shock. “The more you play the victim, Nolan, the more you must hate me in your heart!” I said nothing, despite the splitting pain in my head. They didn’t like it when I talked back. Seven years ago, it was for refuting Ryan’s lies that they threw me into the Institute, where they performed the surgery that made me so obedient. I was all better now. I would do anything they said. I hoped that would make them happy. “No-lan Ash-ton!” It was the second time my sister had said my name with such chilling coldness. “Hasn’t this family been good to you? You enjoyed twenty years of luxury that belonged to Ryan! Bringing you home was the biggest mistake of my life! You almost got him killed!” My father shoved my fractured head against the pavement, grinding it into the asphalt. “You ungrateful beast! We should have let you die in the hospital!” I coughed up blood and struggled to my feet. I knew they hadn’t forgiven me. I prepared to slam my head against the car again to atone. If I hit it harder this time, hard enough to shatter my skull, surely they would calm down? My mother screamed, a wild, desperate sound. “Enough! Stop torturing yourself…” My father ordered the bodyguards, “Throw him in the Institute. And you, Nolan, you’d better die quickly. Don’t keep Ryan from living his life!” My family watched as the bodyguards tossed me into the trunk like a bag of trash. They were only concerned with taking Ryan back to the hospital for a full check-up. I was back in the familiar place. A bodyguard flicked a lit cigarette into a nearby trash can. “Stay put!” I curled up obediently in a corner, unmoving even as I watched the cigarette ignite the trash, the flames catching on the curtains. As the fire roared toward me, a wall of infernal heat, I calmly closed my eyes and waited to die. I just wanted to ask: I’ve been so good. Once I’m really dead, can I come home? At the hospital, the family breathed a collective sigh of relief as they reviewed Ryan’s perfectly normal test results. My father’s voice was ice when he heard the bodyguard’s report. “Nolan loves his little life-and-death dramas, doesn’t he? Fine. Let him stay there and rot. If anyone in this family so much as mentions his name again, they can get out!” But the neuroscientist frowned. He pulled a file from his desk drawer—the surgical report for my frontal lobotomy. “Ms. Ashton, Nolan isn’t acting. His behavior is the result of a severe brain injury.” Sophia was dismissive. “We all know he’s got something wrong in his head!” “This is different!” The doctor slammed the report on the table. The words “Successful Excision” made a sudden, sickening premonition rise in my mother’s chest. She fought to keep her voice steady. “A frontal lobotomy… what does that mean?” The doctor’s expression was grim. “It means the part of Nolan’s brain that controls impulse, emotion, and resistance has been surgically removed! He has no feelings, no ability to refuse an order. He will do anything to please, to obey a command, even if that command will lead to his own death!” “The Institute he was in for seven years is a notorious black site for abuse! They arranged the surgery through a private clinic! And this,” he said, pointing to the bottom of the page, “is the signature of the family representative who authorized it. Ryan.” Seeing Ryan’s name on the form, their world exploded. At the same time, the doctor produced another document: the real paternity test. “I found the original in the archives. There’s something you’ve been wrong about for seven years.”

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1 Memorial Day weekend. Brody, the frat bro who stole my wife years ago, posted a photo of an oceanfront villa in Cabo. The caption read: “Holiday getaway. Testing out the older woman flavor.” I took a screenshot and sent it to his current wife, who happened to be my ex-wife, Sissi. I added a sarcastic text. “Getting cheated on over the holidays. Feels familiar, doesn’t it?” Minutes later, Sissi didn’t curse me out. Instead, she sent a live location in Cabo and a video. The video showed a luxury sedan with its windshield smashed to pieces. She sent one follow-up message. “Why don’t you check the plates and see who this belongs to.” My blood turned to ice. I took the red-eye flight. When I walked into the local precinct in Cabo, the first thing I saw was my fiancée, Jenny. The woman who was supposed to be working overtime at her corporate firm was currently wielding a plastic waiting room chair, screaming like a lunatic as she tried to swing it at Sissi. Hearing my footsteps, Jenny froze. This was the woman who had pulled me out of severe clinical depression. The woman who once put Sissi in the hospital just so I wouldn’t suffer. Yet right now, her first instinct was to pull a man behind her back, shielding him. I walked up to her, step by step. Looking at a face I knew down to the bone, I felt nothing but a terrifying strangeness. “You told me yesterday morning there was an emergency project,” I said. “You said you had to work through the weekend.” “Is this your new office, Jess?” “Of all the people you could protect, you chose Brody?” “You know exactly what he did to me five years ago. You swore you would make him pay!” Jenny slowly lowered the chair. She brushed the dust off her palms, refusing to meet my eyes. Instead, she stared at the blank precinct wall. “Paul, we’re all adults here. Things happen naturally,” she said. “There’s no need to make this so ugly.” I stood there, stung by her absolute indifference. “Ugly?” I echoed. “You booked a hotel room behind my back with the man who ruined the first half of my life, and you’re annoyed that I’m making things ugly?” Jenny tugged at her collar, dripping with impatience. “All you do is work and stare off into space. You’re completely lifeless,” she snapped. “You don’t have Brody’s spark. Any woman would feel suffocated around you.” Those words smashed into my face. Every illusion I ever held about her shattered into dust. Brody peeked out from behind her shoulder. “Artie, man, don’t blame Jess.” “It’s my fault. I got drunk and cried to her about how Sissi gives me the cold shoulder. You can hit me or yell at me, but please don’t fight with her over this.” Memories from five years ago crashed into my skull. The day I pushed open the master bedroom door, Brody had hidden behind Sissi the exact same way. Sissi had shoved me hard to protect him. I fell, cracking my head open on the nightstand, leaving a permanent scar. That was the day I sank into the swamp of severe depression. A suffocating weight crushed my chest. I gasped for air. Sissi leaned against the wall, wiping a trickle of blood from her forehead. She let out a sharp, mocking laugh. “Jenny, you kept preaching about how much you loved Paul. In the end, you still climbed into my husband’s bed.” Jenny glared at Sissi, her face twisted with pure disdain. “Oh, save the victim act, Sissi,” Jenny spat. “You slept with Paul for years and tortured him until he was a ghost of a man. I just wanted a taste of your husband. I wanted you to know what it feels like to wear the horns. This is called karma.” I stared at Jenny, completely numb. The woman who pulled me back from the edge of the roof, who stayed up countless nights holding me through panic attacks, was utterly unrecognizable. Her closeness, her fierce protection, it was all tainted with a sick, twisted sense of possession and revenge. With a terrifying calm, I pulled the engagement ring off my finger and set it quietly on the officer’s metal desk. “The wedding is off, Jenny.” I turned and walked out the glass doors. Behind me, Brody’s voice echoed. “Jess, he left the ring! Go after him!” Jenny’s voice followed, dripping with arrogance. “Chase him? Why? Once he cools off, he’ll come crawling back.” “Besides, I need to comfort you right now.” I hailed a cab straight to the airport and bought the next ticket back to Seattle. Sitting in the departure lounge, my phone lit up. It was a photo from Brody. Jenny was fast asleep on crisp, white hotel sheets, looking completely at peace. A text followed. “Artie, your girl only plays the saint when you’re around. Deep down, she loves the thrill. I’ll give her back when I’m done with her.” My fingers flew across the keyboard. “Trash belongs in the dumpster. Only you would be thrilled to dig through my garbage.” I hit send and immediately blocked his number. Back at our shared downtown condo, I pulled out a box of heavy-duty trash bags. I ripped open the closet doors, yanked all of Jenny’s designer clothes off the hangers, and stuffed them in. I didn’t hesitate for a single second. I dragged every bag containing a trace of her existence out into the hallway. Just as I threw the last bag out, the elevator chimed. The doors slid open. My mother and my sister, Zoe, stepped out. Seeing the mountain of luggage, my mother’s face darkened instantly. “Paul, what kind of tantrum is this?” she scolded. “Jess is so good to you. You’re almost thirty, stop acting like a dramatic teenager! Are you trying to tear this family apart?” Zoe chimed in right on cue. “Seriously, Paul. Jess runs a massive company. Don’t be ungrateful. I graduate next month, and I’m counting on her to get me a management job!” Looking at the people who shared my blood, I felt a wave of profound sorrow. Years ago, when Sissi betrayed me, my depression was so severe I couldn’t sleep for days. My mother just watched me with cold eyes, calling me an ugly burden. She even tried to force me to give up my high-paying job so Zoe could have my salary for her college allowance. I survived those pitch-black days by waiting tables during the day and spending my meager tips on therapy at night. I crawled out of hell completely alone. From that moment on, I considered myself an orphan. I looked at my mother with eyes as cold as dead ash. “Jenny cheated on me,” I said flatly. “With Brody.” I thought hearing that name would trigger at least a fraction of shock. Instead, my mother blinked, then gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “People stray. It’s just a fling,” she said. “If you can’t keep your woman satisfied, who else is there to blame?” “Besides, Brody is highly connected now. He knows big investors. If he introduces your sister to the right people, her whole career is set.” “Just swallow your pride. Why do you have to make a scene and embarrass everyone?” The last fragile thread tying me to my family snapped entirely. I was about to shut the door when the elevator dinged again. Jenny practically tumbled out, gasping for air. She couldn’t get a flight, so she must have bought an overpriced train ticket and traveled all night. Seeing her belongings piled up like garbage, her face turned thunderous. I leaned against the doorframe, offering a merciless smirk. “Why the rush? Couldn’t bear to leave your boy toy in Cabo? Or did Sissi beat you so badly you had to run?” Seeing Jenny arrive, my mother and sister looked awkward. They muttered a quick excuse and scurried back into the elevator, fleeing the scene. The hallway was dead silent. Just the two of us. I stepped back inside, grabbed the divorce papers I had printed weeks ago for a prenup update, and crossed out a few lines. We had just signed our marriage certificate last month. The grand wedding was scheduled for next month. Now, there was no need. I slapped the papers against her chest. “Sign it.” Jenny didn’t even look at the document. She let it flutter to the floor. She refused to acknowledge the hotel room in Cabo, choosing instead to flip the script. “Can you stop being so irrational, Paul?” she demanded. “Throwing my stuff out in front of your mother and sister? Do you know how humiliating that is for me?” “Sissi kicked Brody out. He has nowhere to sleep. What’s wrong with me helping out a friend?” Listening to her righteous defense, I felt like I was losing my mind. Brody was the guy who stabbed me in the back our entire lives. He stole my homework in high school to win awards. He cut the brakes on my bike, breaking my leg. Because I had better grades, he secretly hacked the school portal to alter my college applications, costing me my university spot. I only found out about his sabotage when he showed up to sleep with Sissi. He ruined my life, and then he stole my wife. Jenny used to hold me in her arms, looking me in the eyes, swearing her loyalty. “I’m here now, Artie. Nobody will ever hurt you again. Whatever Brody took from you, I’ll make him pay back in blood.” Those promises were now nothing but a sick joke. Suppressing the fire in my chest, I pointed a finger squarely at her face. “Help him? You helped him into your bed!” “Brody is a pathetic little…” I never finished the sentence. A sharp, stinging slap echoed in the hallway. My head snapped to the side. My ears rang a high-pitched pitch. Jenny pulled her hand back, glaring at me with absolute fury. “Do not insult him like that!” The burning pain on my cheek was nothing compared to the bottomless, freezing abyss opening in my heart. Jenny stared at her own trembling hand. A flash of panic crossed her face. She took a step forward, instinctively reaching out to steady me. “Artie, I didn’t mean to. Just stop provoking me…” I slapped her hand away. With every ounce of strength I had, I swung my arm back and delivered a brutal, stinging backhand across her face. “You make me physically sick, Jenny!” I roared. “How good is Brody in bed that you women line up to pick up each other’s trash?” I lunged forward, completely unhinged. The sheer weight of years of repressed trauma erupted. Jenny didn’t fight back, taking the impact against her shoulders. The violent movement was too much. Black spots danced across my vision. My knees buckled, and I collapsed onto the hardwood floor, slipping into total darkness. When I opened my eyes again, the sharp scent of clinical bleach filled my lungs. I was lying in a hospital bed, an IV dripping fluids into my vein. Jenny stood at the foot of the bed. Her expression was darker than a thundercloud. Seeing me wake up, she offered zero comfort. Her voice was colder than liquid nitrogen. “You cheated on me.” My eyes went wide. “What kind of insane garbage are you talking about? When did I ever cheat on you?” Jenny let out a humorless scoff and tossed her phone onto my blanket. “Still denying it?” “Brody told me everything! You went to Seattle on a business trip last month. Sissi was in Seattle at the exact same time! Are you seriously going to tell me nothing happened?” My whole body shook with rage. “That was a corporate summit! Hundreds of tech companies were in that city! I didn’t even see her face!” Jenny wasn’t listening. Her mind was already made up. “How long were you going to play me?” she sneered. “You kept crying about how Brody framed you, but he showed me the medical records. He proved you were having psychotic episodes, hallucinating and attacking people like a rabid dog!” “I must have been blind to fall for your pathetic victim act for three years.” My breathing turned ragged. My chest ached with a suffocating pressure. Once trust collapses, every explanation sounds like a cover-up. She would rather believe the man who lied through his teeth than the husband who had slept beside her for three years. Looking down at me like I was a stranger, Jenny delivered her ultimatum. “I’m giving you one week to think about this.” “Clean up your mess. In six months, I’ll consider coming back to this marriage. Otherwise, I’ll see you in court.” She spun around, slammed the hospital door shut, and walked away. The room fell back into a dead, hollow silence. Two days later, I forced myself out of bed and dragged my aching body into the office. The second I stepped into the bullpen, I noticed my desk was entirely cleared out. My framed photos, my mugs, my notes, everything was shoved carelessly into a cardboard box on the floor. My coworkers shot me looks filled with pity and twisted amusement. I didn’t yell. I didn’t make a scene. I walked calmly toward HR to demand my termination paperwork. As I passed the executive suites, my department director walked out, laughing and fawning over a man in a tailored suit. It was Brody. The director caught sight of me and immediately put on a nasty sneer. “Paul, you actually have the nerve to show your face?” he mocked. “I reported your unexcused absences. Corporate decided to terminate you effectively immediately. Grab your trash and get out. You’re blocking our new Regional Manager.” Brody strolled up to me, adjusting his cuffs. “Sorry about this, Artie. Took your spot,” he said smoothly. “But what can I say? Jess is the majority shareholder of this firm.” “I casually mentioned I was bored and needed a gig, and she handed me your department.” I snapped my head up, staring at her empty office in pure shock. Jenny was the majority shareholder? For three years, I bled for this company. I worked overnight pulling together pitch decks. Every time a promotion came up, the director gave me some corporate excuse and handed the title to someone else. I used to come home exhausted, crying to Jenny about the unfairness of the corporate ladder. She would rub my back so gently, telling me to be patient, promising that hard work always pays off. She had the power all along. She held the leash. My heart turned into a block of ice. My eyes drifted down. I suddenly noticed a braided red string wrapped around Brody’s wrist. It was a handmade bracelet. I had woven it myself for our three-year anniversary, placing it on Jenny’s wrist. She swore on her life she would never take it off. Pure, unadulterated fury snapped the last wire in my brain. I lunged forward, grabbing the bracelet and ripping it downward. “Take that off! You don’t have the right to touch it!” Brody immediately let out an exaggerated, theatrical yelp. “Ah! Jesus, Artie! What is wrong with you!” He threw his weight backward, pretending to fall. Out of nowhere, a figure rushed past me. Jenny threw her arms around Brody to catch him, simultaneously shoving me hard in the chest. “Paul! Are you completely insane!” The brutal force of her push threw me off balance. I stumbled backward, my heel catching on the carpet. I went down hard. The sharp corner of a mahogany desk caught me right in the lower back. Blinding, agonizing pain shredded through my nervous system. I slid to the floor, feeling a warm, thick liquid dripping down the back of my head. Gasps erupted across the office. Jenny froze. She stared at the pooling blood on the carpet, all the color draining from her face. I lay in my cheap rental apartment for a full month. During that time, Brody practically lived on Instagram, flaunting his new luxury lifestyle. In the comment sections, Jenny and Sissi were tearing each other apart, fighting over him like wild dogs. Both of them ended up in the ER after a physical brawl at a country club. Watching their circus act, I felt nothing but a dark, cynical amusement. A month later, as the sun set, Jenny finally unlocked the door to our old condo. The place was completely hollow. Stripped of all life. She walked into the living room, annoyed, until her eyes landed on the glass coffee table. Sitting right in the center was the divorce agreement. My signature was already inked at the bottom.

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