Category: English

After chasing my younger boyfriend for three months, I finally got him. Naturally, I couldn’t wait to devour him completely. After booking the hotel and arranging everything, I had an awakening. My hands were still pressed against his abs, but I froze before I could take the next step. My boyfriend looked at me with restraint, whispering, “Chloe.” I smirked and continued what I was doing. So what if he’s the male lead? He’s my boyfriend now. 1 After booking the hotel and arranging everything, I was in a great mood. You have to understand, this was the first time I’d ever chased anyone. It took me a full three months before Caleb finally agreed to date me. But I had to admit, he wasn’t just my type physically; I loved his personality too. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have spent so much time wearing him down. Caleb was cold on the outside, but the moment you teased him, he got shy. His face would remain calm, but his ears would betray him, turning bright red. In the three months I spent chasing him, I got to know him very well. After picking Caleb up, we went to a restaurant for dinner. On the way, I couldn’t keep my hands off him. His eyes were full of indulgence, but the tips of his ears were burning. I chuckled in his ear. “Still so shy? What are you going to do later?” He turned his head slightly to look at me, and his ears turned completely red. “Alright, I’ll stop teasing you. Let’s get out.” After getting out of the car, he subconsciously took my hand, interlacing our fingers. “Boyfriend, make sure you eat well tonight.” Caleb’s Adam’s apple bobbed involuntarily, and he squeezed my hand tighter. I chose the restaurant, of course. I casually checked a few items on the menu, ordering things both he and I liked. Then I handed it to him. “See if there’s anything else you like.” As he looked at the menu, my gaze focused on his hands. His fingers were long and distinct, looking exceptionally beautiful under the lights. After dinner, I deliberately strolled around the mall with Caleb for a while before driving him to the hotel. When we got out of the car, I couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement. Entering the hotel room and seeing the setup, I couldn’t resist turning back to tease Caleb. “I’m going to shower first. Boyfriend, want to join me?” But I accidentally stepped on his foot. Before I could back away, he wrapped an arm around my waist, and I fell into his embrace. I blinked and tugged at his collar, revealing a bit of his collarbone. I leaned in and touched it. His voice was a bit hoarse. “Chloe…” “Shh, let me see.” As I spoke, my other hand slipped around his waist. Feeling his abs, the corners of my mouth lifted, and I even gave them a pinch. His breathing instantly grew heavy. Before I could react, he kissed me with burning intensity. In that instant, I felt a little dizzy. After a long while, he leaned on my shoulder, whispering my name over and over, his deep, magnetic voice filling my ears. Feeling my ears heat up, I couldn’t help but push him away. “I… I’m going to shower first.” I fled the scene. So I didn’t see him deliberately tug at his collar, a low laugh rumbling in his throat, his gaze fixed on my back with determined possession. After showering, my head felt increasingly heavy. I shook it off and walked out. Caleb dried my hair, kissed the top of my head, and went into the bathroom. My best friend sent a message: [So, did you get him?] I sent back an emoji and a snort, then turned off my phone. 2 When Caleb came out after washing up, his gaze fell directly on me. He strode to the bed, and I got up to push him down, but my smile froze on my face the next second. My hands were still pressed against his abs, but I stopped before I could make the next move. I had awakened. Awakened right as I was about to devour my boyfriend. Caleb was the male lead in a book, and I was just a cannon fodder side character. I deliberately pulled open his bathrobe and gently bit his collarbone. Caleb looked at me with restraint, whispering, “Chloe.” “Do you like me? Caleb.” He looked at me with intense seriousness. “I like you. I like you, Chloe. Very much.” I smirked and continued what I was doing. So what if he’s the male lead? He’s my boyfriend now, not the heroine’s. But I didn’t expect this seemingly cold and ascetic man to be insatiable once he tasted sweetness. I almost died. When I woke up the next day, an arm was wrapped around my waist, holding me. Lying in his arms, I couldn’t help but count his eyelashes. Speaking of which, Caleb’s eyelashes were so long. Before I could touch them, his lashes fluttered, and he opened his eyes. Meeting my gaze before I could look away, he suddenly buried his face in my shoulder and nuzzled. His voice was still a bit raspy. “Good morning, Chloe.” I sneered. “Good morning? Why didn’t you think about ‘good morning’ when you were tossing me around last night?” His breath tickled my ear. “Chloe, don’t be mad. I just like you too much. I’ll be good.” Thinking about him being the male lead, I deliberately said, “Remember that. If you’re not good one day, I won’t want you anymore.” His voice lowered, coaxing me with infinite tenderness. “I won’t, Chloe. I’ll always be by your side. Don’t be mad, okay?” I said earnestly, “Then remember what you said today.” He kissed my forehead. “I’ll remember it every moment.” 3 Maybe because we had crossed that line, Caleb became extremely clingy these past few days. It was uncharacteristic of him. My best friend, Sarah, laughed. “Of course. You’re in the honeymoon phase. It’s normal. Though I didn’t expect you to stay home for three days before coming out.” I glanced at Sarah, and she burst out laughing. “Don’t look at me like that. Am I wrong?” “But honestly, you have good taste. The guy you picked at first sight is great in every aspect, and he’s clingy. Isn’t that good?” I leaned back on the sofa. “It’s pretty good.” I just don’t know when he’ll meet the heroine and start the plot. Then I, the cannon fodder, will have to hand him over. But before the plot kicks in, I’ll date him for a few months. It’s not like I’m losing anything. As for when the plot arrives, whatever happens, happens. I’ve already got the guy. But I never expected the plot to change so drastically after the heroine appeared. She started shipping me and Caleb as a couple. This made me suspect I had awakened to a fake plot. After all, in the story, they were a match made in heaven. I later realized I had overestimated the plot and underestimated Caleb. But right now, what surprised me was Caleb. His clinginess was inversely proportional to his coldness, and this was the first time I’d seen him this clingy. Honestly, it was a bit novel. Before this, I had experienced his coldness firsthand. Messages were usually one-word replies, and he spoke very little in person. But his sincerity won me over. The colder he was to me, the more addicted I became. And now, his gaze followed me everywhere, as if I were the only person in his world. Seeing each other daily was mandatory, and he loved hugs. I leaned against the wall, watching him wear an apron and chop vegetables in the kitchen. From this angle, his jawline looked exceptionally superior. I went back to the living room and sat on the sofa, scrolling through my phone while watching TV out of boredom. Until he ruffled my hair, looking gentle. “Chloe, time to eat.” My instinctive reaction: “Did you wash your hands?” Caleb nodded. “Yes, don’t worry.” Looking at the food Caleb made, I was still amazed. He didn’t look like someone who could cook, but his culinary skills were far better than mine. After all, the first time I invited him over for dinner, my braised grouper was a disaster. Thinking about it still makes me embarrassed. I should have steamed it instead of braising it. When Caleb ate it, his facial expression management was superb, causing me to lose judgment of my cooking skills. The first bite almost made me cry. The taste was terrible. But Caleb, with red ears, lied to my face. “Actually, it’s pretty good.” “It’s obviously awful. Don’t lie to me. I’ll throw it away.” Caleb stopped me. “Don’t throw it away. I’ll eat it. You bought it specially; I don’t want to waste it.” “And your feelings shouldn’t be wasted by me either.” I have to say, Caleb’s words hit me hard. I pushed my luck. “You say my feelings shouldn’t be wasted, but I’ve been chasing you for so long. Why haven’t you agreed yet?” Hearing this, Caleb stiffened, a trace of panic flashing in his eyes. I teased him. “I like you so much. Don’t you plan to say yes?” Seeing he didn’t answer, I took the initiative. “If you still don’t speak or reject me directly, I’ll take it as a yes.” “You won’t be mad, right, oppa?” Thinking back, confessing next to a disastrous braised fish probably wasn’t ideal. After all, the fish died in vain! But thankfully, pushing him worked, and my confession succeeded. Although, compared to calling him “oppa” or “brother,” I prefer him calling me “Chloe.” Thinking about these things, I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Caleb looked at me in confusion. “I was just thinking about when I confessed to you at the dining table, next to that failed braised fish.” Hearing this, the corners of Caleb’s mouth curved up slightly. He patiently peeled a shrimp, dipped it in sauce, put it in my bowl, and spoke the truth. “But to me, that fish wasn’t a failure. It was something you prepared carefully for me. It was a surprise.” “More like a scare.” Today, Caleb made fish too. Steamed fish. I rolled up my sleeves, patiently picked out the bones, and put the meat in his bowl. “This is the taste I imagined. I should have steamed it back then.” Caleb lied with his eyes open. “Pretty much the same. Tastes similar.” Thanks to Caleb’s cooking, I successfully ate too much. After the meal, Caleb wrapped one arm around me and rubbed my stomach with the other. I leaned on his shoulder comfortably. I was about to say something but accidentally brushed his cheek. His ears turned red immediately. I grabbed the hand rubbing my stomach and leaned close to his ear. “Boyfriend, are you that shy? Your ears are red.” I touched them, and my fingers gradually moved to his Adam’s apple. His throat bobbed involuntarily. His voice lowered, as if begging for mercy. “Chloe…” I ignored him and moved to his collarbone. When I realized what I was doing, I felt like a pervert. Because seeing the corners of his eyes turn red actually excited me. I kind of wanted to see him cry. I silently condemned myself, coughed, withdrew my hand, and sat properly, looking like a good girl. Caleb smiled without speaking. He subconsciously hugged me as we watched a variety show. He even found time to wash some fruit and brought a fruit platter, arranged beautifully and very juicy. Before I could eat much, drowsiness hit me, and I yawned involuntarily. Caleb napped with me. 4 When I woke up again, I turned and hugged him, smelling the faint fresh scent on him, the corners of my mouth lifting uncontrollably. He held me. “Awake?” I answered lazily. “Yeah.” A few seconds later, I let go of Caleb, sat up, and lowered my head to kiss him. He reached out to hold me, his movements gentle. After getting up, on a whim, I picked a movie with a tragic tone. I suddenly thought of the awakened plot and couldn’t help but glance at Caleb. Caleb looked cold, but when the ending came, he frowned slightly, then his brow relaxed as if he thought of something. I subconsciously squeezed his hand. “The ending is a bit tragic.” “That’s because he missed too many opportunities. Indecisive, not fighting for anything. He deserved that ending given his personality.” Then Caleb changed the subject. “I wouldn’t be like that with you, Chloe. I wouldn’t give up any opportunity.” I smiled suddenly. “When I was chasing you, that wasn’t what you said. That coldness…” It was a bit addictive. I swallowed the rest of the sentence. Because Caleb looked at me with suppressed love in his eyes. He interlaced his fingers with mine. His voice was deep: “Not anymore, and never will be.” He paused, then continued: “Or if you ever miss how I was before, I can act it out for you.” Seeing his serious look, I couldn’t help but chuckle. Indeed, he knew exactly what I liked. But I have to say, I liked how he was before too. That’s why I spotted him first in the crowd. After dinner, Caleb drove me home. On the way, he specifically stopped to buy dessert and flowers. “Why did you buy these?” Caleb’s hands were on the steering wheel as he spoke casually: “You like them.” When we arrived, he carried the things upstairs for me. After boiling water for me, he washed a vase and filled it with water. In the living room, he unwrapped the flowers and placed them in the vase one by one. Under the light, his long fingers paired with the red roses looked exceptionally beautiful. I pulled out a chair and sat next to him, watching him work. His movements had a fluid beauty. When he finished, I was still a bit dazed. I looked up at him. “I like the way you arrange flowers.” Caleb’s mouth curved up. “I’ll handle the flowers at home from now on.” I nodded subconsciously. The smile in Caleb’s eyes deepened. He placed the vase, cleaned up, and washed his hands. The dessert he bought ended up in both our stomachs. In this regard, our tastes were extremely similar. Before leaving, he poured water, stopped me from walking him out, and ruffled my hair. “Goodnight, Chloe.” Upstairs, I watched his car drive away. I suddenly realized something. Every time I was with him, I felt very comfortable. Just like now, even watching him arrange flowers didn’t feel boring. I only marveled at how beautiful his hands were.

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I found the ultrasound printout tucked into the breast pocket of Gabriel Thorne’s crisp dress shirt. It was Celeste Price’s. And where it should have listed the father, it simply read, “Gabriel Thorne, Spouse.” Gabe has always had a constellation of women orbiting him, but Celeste, The High School Sweetheart, the perfect Muse he lost and then found again, was the one he was pathologically obsessed with. He saw me holding the flimsy paper and offered a casual, dismissive explanation. “She’s in the first trimester, Adora. Her emotions are fragile right now, and she can’t handle the gossip. I’m just letting her use my name to run interference. Don’t overthink it.” I calmly folded the paper and slipped it back into his pocket. “If you’re happy, Gabe, you don’t need to explain anything.” He froze. That alone was enough to throw him. In the past, the mere mention of Celeste’s name would turn me into a raging banshee, capable of smashing everything in sight. I turned to walk away, and a flicker of panic crossed his face. “Adora, wait. Why aren’t you causing a scene? You used to hate it the most when I even spoke her name.” He didn’t know. Just half a month ago, because his Muse had complained of a stomach ache, he had abandoned me on the side of an elevated highway during a torrential downpour. That night, in the cold, unforgiving rain, I lost our child. Now, I simply didn’t have the energy to care about Celeste’s baby, or the man who was lying about it. 1 Gabe stared at my retreating back, his gaze laced with scrutiny and a barely concealed discomfort. Usually, by now, the antique vase would be shattered at his feet. Even if I didn’t break anything, I would be sobbing and demanding to know why Celeste’s pregnancy was any of his business. But today, I just folded the ultrasound printout and returned it. He must have been unnerved by my composure. His footsteps closed the distance, and a pair of arms encircled me from behind, his hands closing over mine. The cloying mix of his expensive cologne and a sweet, floral perfume—undeniably Celeste’s signature scent—hit my nostrils. My stomach lurched violently. “I’m not going out tonight,” he murmured, resting his chin on my shoulder. “We’ll stay in and have dinner.” I stiffened, then gently pushed him away. “I need to use the restroom.” I walked into the bathroom and cranked the cold water tap. I scrubbed my wrists, where his fingers had rested, over and over, until the skin was pink and raw. Dinner was lavish. Gabe seemed pleased, interpreting my silence as a sign that I was finally “coming around.” He spooned a piece of spicy Thai curry with shrimp onto my plate, his voice soft. “Eat up, Adora. This used to be your favorite.” I stared at the shrimp coated in the bright red sauce. I had been severely allergic to shellfish since I was twelve. I didn’t know when he had forgotten that. Still, I picked up the shrimp, put it in my mouth, and began to chew. As soon as the savory, pungent spice hit my throat, it triggered a primal, physiological rejection. “Oh God—” I clapped a hand over my mouth and stumbled into the bathroom, emptying my stomach until my body shook. Gabe followed, standing awkwardly behind me. “You’re throwing up so violently. Should we go to the clinic?” He reached out to steady me. The instant his fingertips brushed my shoulder, I flinched away, a purely reflexive move. “I’m fine.” He watched me, his expression complex. He clearly didn’t believe me. The old Adora would have leveraged this minor illness for attention, demanding cuddles or using it as a weapon to keep him away from Celeste. But I was too calm. “Are you still angry about the ultrasound, Adora?” “I explained it. Celeste is alone in the city, an unwed mother-to-be, and she’s already getting side-eye. I was just—” “I know,” I cut him off. “You were helping her. Why would I be angry?” Gabe looked stunned. At that moment, his phone vibrated on the dining table. The screen flashed the name: Celeste. He rushed over to answer it. “Gabe…” Celeste’s voice, thick with tears, filtered through the line. “I’m so sick. I can’t keep anything down, but I suddenly have this awful craving for that spicy Thai curry from that place downtown…” Gabe instinctively grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and headed for the door. He paused only when he reached the entryway, turning back to me. “Celeste is fragile, and she’s pregnant. The doctor said she can’t have any emotional stress.” “Go on then. Don’t keep her waiting.” My tone was utterly flat. He searched my eyes, desperate for a flash of jealousy, anger, or even a hint of wounded vulnerability. He found nothing. “Adora.” His throat bobbed, as if he were wrestling with some internal conflict. “Aren’t you going? If not, then sit down and finish your dinner.” I walked back to the table and resumed my seat. Gabe’s face darkened instantly. He snatched his keys, turned, and walked out. I picked up my fork and began methodically eating the leftover salads. After dinner, I went to our room. I pulled out the half-packed suitcase from under the bed. I took the small, folded ultrasound printout—the blurred image of what was supposed to be our future—and tucked it into the pages of a favorite novel. My phone buzzed. A new message. “You’re sure about this? Does Gabe know?” I tapped out a reply. “He doesn’t need to know.” 2 Gabe didn’t come home all night. Celeste posted a picture on her private Instagram story. It was a gourmet takeout container of creamy truffle pasta, and a man’s hand was meticulously separating a large scallop for her. The caption: “Brother Gabe always comes running, no matter how late. Feeling so loved and protected. ” I scrolled past it without expression, locked my phone, and went to sleep. The next day passed without a word from him. I went through the motions: eating, packing, and calling the moving service. It wasn’t until late afternoon that Gabe’s assistant called. “Mrs. Thorne, Mr. Thorne asked if you would be his date for the Spring Charity Gala tonight. He should be arriving downstairs in about thirty minutes.” I applied my makeup and changed into a sleek, black cocktail dress. Thirty minutes passed. An hour passed. My phone chimed. A text message. Gabe: Something came up. Go ahead without me. Always that line. I efficiently walked to the bathroom, wiped off the makeup, and changed back into a simple sweater and jeans. I cooked a bowl of simple noodles and ate them alone in the quiet, empty living room. The wall clock struck midnight. The lock turned, and Gabe walked in, carrying the scent of the cold night and the heavy musk of a different, unfamiliar perfume. He held an elegant, square gift box. He seemed surprised to see me still sitting up. A fleeting look of guilt crossed his face. “Adora, you’re still awake?” He walked over and placed the box on the coffee table, his voice softening. “I’m sorry, honey. There was a sudden, urgent board meeting. I couldn’t get away.” I looked up at him. My gaze settled on the collar of his white dress shirt. A smear of bright red lipstick, undeniable and jarring, stained the crisp fabric. Gabe followed my sightline, and his color changed. He quickly covered his collar. “That’s… Celeste tripped, and I had to rush her to the clinic. It must have brushed off when I caught her. But she’s fine, thankfully.” I simply said, “Oh.” His confident facade wavered. He picked up the box, opened it, and revealed a shimmering Solitaire Diamond Pendant. “Look. Do you like it? I thought it would suit you perfectly.” He held the necklace up to my throat. I had seen the exact same necklace on Celeste’s Instagram feed barely ten minutes ago. Since Celeste returned, I had become her shadow. Handbags, fragrances, jewelry. If Gabe bought it for me, Celeste inevitably received an identical one. We had fought about it countless times. He would always dismiss me: “Celeste has similar taste, Adora, and I’m busy. It’s easier to buy two. Don’t be so petty.” In the past, I would have thrown the necklace into the trash and started a house-shaking argument. Gabe was clearly waiting for me to explode. He looked wired, ready for the fight. But I took the pendant from his hand and looked up, giving him a small, placid smile. “It’s beautiful. Thank you, Gabe. I love it.” Gabe froze entirely. The emotion in his eyes was a mess: surprise, relief, but overriding it all was an inexplicable sense of loss and panic. “You… you really like it?” he asked, hesitant. I nodded perfunctorily and placed the pendant back in the box. The nameless rage he’d been suppressing suddenly erupted. I was being compliant, well-behaved, silent. Yet, he felt me slipping further away than ever before—so far he couldn’t reach me. He yanked his tie loose, throwing the gift box to the floor. “Adora, who are you playing the virtuous wife for?” “You used to hate having the same things as her! Are you trying to freeze me out?” He roared, desperately trying to provoke me, trying to summon the passionate, jealous, alive Adora he knew. I bent down, picked up the scattered box, and lightly brushed the dust off the lid. My voice remained perfectly even. “Isn’t this what you always wanted?” “No shouting, no fighting, just a sensible, obedient, generous wife. One who… doesn’t compete with Celeste.” Gabe was utterly silenced. He looked at me as if I were a stranger. Finally, he let his arms drop and walked toward the bathroom. “Whatever, Adora.” The sound of the shower started. I sat on the couch, looked at the gift box, and gave a cold, quiet laugh. Then, I tossed it casually into the nearest trash can. 3 In the deep hours of the night, I was pulled into a nightmare. I was back in the blinding downpour of two weeks ago. The thunder was screaming, and the windshield wipers were frantic, unable to clear the deluge. I had just confirmed the pregnancy. Four weeks along. Desperate to save this crumbling marriage, and determined to leave no space for Celeste to wedge herself between us, I had become Gabe’s shadow. I waited in the conference room during his meetings. I sat silently in the passenger seat during his late-night networking events. I was waiting for us to get home so I could pull out the ultrasound from my bag and show him. Then, his phone rang. “Brother Gabe, my stomach hurts so bad… I’m all alone and scared!” That was all it took. Gabe slammed on the brakes. “Celeste is in danger. I have to go to her.” His eyes were frantic with worry. “Gabe! We’re on the elevated highway! In this rain, how am I supposed to get home?” I grabbed his arm, my voice trembling. A sharp, unfamiliar pain had just seized my abdomen. “My stomach hurts too, Gabe! My ba—” “Enough!” He roughly threw my hand off. “Celeste is genuinely frail! Are you seriously going to lie about a pregnancy just to stop me? That’s disgusting, Adora!” He unbuckled his seatbelt, opened the door, and physically dragged me out. “The house is barely two miles from here. Call a cab! Celeste can’t wait!” He climbed back into the driver’s seat, made a reckless U-turn, and vanished into the curtain of rain. I stumbled, my phone flying from my hand and instantly crushed under a passing tire. I could only clutch my aching abdomen, shuffling forward in the downpour. I don’t know how long I walked. Blood began to run down my legs, staining the rainwater in the street before being washed away. Finally, I collapsed on the curb. It was a stranger who called the ambulance. I woke from the dream with a sharp gasp, sitting bolt upright. Instinctively, I placed a hand over my flat belly. Beside me, Gabe was sleeping soundly. His phone on the nightstand suddenly lit up. On impulse, I picked it up. The latest message was from Celeste. It was a picture. She was wearing one of Gabe’s oversized, white dress shirts, the hem covering her thighs, her eyes gazing suggestively into the camera. The text: “Missing you, Daddy Gabe. The shirt smells just like you. Hurry back. ” I felt no rage. Only a wave of nausea, so overwhelming that I ran into the bathroom and dry-heaved over the toilet. I sat on the cold porcelain toilet lid. I checked the date on the phone. Twenty-four hours left. I unlocked my own phone and began the meticulous process of deleting every memory connected to him from the cloud. Five years of my life. Thousands of photos. Select, delete, empty the recycling bin. As dawn broke, I got up and prepared a large, elaborate breakfast. Gabe was surprised to see the full table. His mood instantly improved. He walked over and squeezed my hand. “You didn’t have to, honey. Thank you.” He clearly believed I was still the Adora who loved him in spite of everything. He thought this past week had just been a minor mood swing, a hiccup that would pass. As we ate, he casually mentioned: “Hey, don’t forget to watch my live business interview at noon. I have a little surprise for you.” “Oh,” I replied nonchalantly. “It’s our fifth anniversary, Adora.” A smug look crossed his face. “I’m going to make a major public gesture. A big gift.” I smiled and nodded. “I’ll be sure to watch.” 4 Before he left, Gabe emphasized it one last time. “You have to watch the live stream, Adora.” The moment the front door closed, the smile evaporated from my face. I called the moving service coordinator. “You can come up now.” A few workers came and went, emptying the apartment of everything that belonged to me. My clothes, my books, my shoes, even the toothbrush cup I had used for three years. Anything that couldn’t be taken was thrown out. Noon. I was sitting in the back of a taxi headed for the airport. On my phone screen, Gabe sat in the broadcast studio, looking powerful and dashing. The host chuckled. “Mr. Thorne, I hear today is a very special day?” A VCR montage started playing on the screen. It was a highlight reel of our five years together—a quick cut of our wedding, vacations, and quiet moments. He had clearly put some effort into this “surprise.” Gabe looked directly into the camera, a practiced look of deep affection on his face. “Yes. Today is my wife’s and my fifth wedding anniversary. I wanted to take this opportunity to thank her for all her patience and devotion over the years…” Gabe’s sentence broke off mid-way. The camera suddenly rattled and swung. The view shifted to the front row of the audience. A woman in a white dress, clutching her stomach and looking deathly pale, had slumped to the floor. It was Celeste Price. Gabe’s expression completely shattered. Ignoring the live broadcast, he vaulted from the stage. “Celeste! Celeste, what’s wrong? Don’t panic! I’m here! I’ll get you to the hospital right now!” He lifted her into his arms, knocking over a nearby camera, and sprinted out of the studio. The live stream went silent for a moment before the chat screen exploded. [WTF? What just happened? Did the CEO just… run off?!] [Who was the girl in the white dress? She looked so fragile. The way he picked her up was pure movie romance!] [Is everyone blind? What day is it? Their five-year anniversary! That must have been Mrs. Thorne! She’s probably pregnant!] Someone set the pace, and the thousands of comments instantly shifted tone. [OMG, this is what real rich-guy love looks like! He was so worried! That look in his eyes was lethal!] [It has to be his wife and baby! I saw her holding her belly! This is so romantic!] [Ugh, I’m swooning! Billionaire romance IRL!] I watched the chat scroll up the screen, then I closed the live stream. I pulled the SIM card—the one that had held my life for the past five years—out of my phone. I snapped it in half, rolled down the window, and tossed the pieces out into the city traffic. The taxi arrived at the airport curb. A voice announced the final call for my flight. I pulled my suitcase, looked back at the gray, indifferent city one last time. My second phone vibrated in my pocket. A new message. “Text me when you land. I’m waiting outside the arrivals terminal.”

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On my way to visit my mother’s grave, I scrolled through a forum and saw a post titled, “What’s the most pathetic lapdog you’ve ever seen?” The top reply read: “My brother-in-law — but he’s not loyal to my sister. He’s mine. I’m the illegitimate daughter nobody acknowledged. On my 18th birthday, I ran over my dad’s wife to help my mom take her place. My sister wanted justice, so my lapdog married her, signed papers to clear me, and they sent me abroad. Every time she got pregnant, he’d arrange an ‘accident’—until she couldn’t conceive anymore. But I’m kind, so I’ll help her: my 5-year-old son with her husband will soon be ‘adopted’ by her. Soon she’ll raise my child herself.” She even posted a vacation photo, boasting how every year on the anniversary of “that woman’s” death, her brother-in-law, father, and mother celebrate her birthday instead. I stared at the photo. The man’s tattoo was exactly like my husband’s. Walking toward my mother’s headstone, it hit me. That lapdog… was my husband. 1. The forum users, stunned by Kiera’s shamelessness, unleashed a torrent of abuse. She just reveled in it. [Go ahead and curse me out. Nothing you type can change my reality.] [While she’s all alone, mourning her useless mother at some cemetery, her own father and her own husband are right here with me, celebrating my birthday.] [She and her mother are nothing but complete and utter failures!] Beneath that, she posted another picture. The deed to a house. The critical details were blurred out, but I recognized it in a heartbeat. It was the old house my mother had left me. Kiera added another comment, each letter a monument to her arrogance: [See this? All I did was mention I ‘liked’ the place, and her pathetic lapdog of a husband immediately transferred the deed of his wife’s childhood home into my name.] [Back in the day, her mother fought tooth and nail to keep my mom from ever setting foot in that house. And now? My mom and I live there, out in the open, and she’s still completely clueless.] [Save your energy. I was just born lucky. Every single person in her life pretends to be good to her, but deep down, they’re all on my side.] I stared at the screen, an icy dread crawling up my spine, freezing me from the inside out. A memory from five years ago flooded my mind with brutal clarity. Daniel had come home that night looking utterly broken, his voice trembling as he held me. “Sophia, honey, my investments… they all went bust. The credit line’s been cut… If I can’t cover the losses, I could go to jail.” “I’m so useless. I wanted to give you a better life, and instead, I’ve lost everything.” Seeing him so defeated, a sight I had never witnessed before, felt like a physical blow. Money could be earned again, but if his spirit was broken, we would have nothing. Without a second thought, I went and retrieved the deed to my mother’s old house. I pressed it into his hands and told him to use it as collateral to get through the crisis. He looked at me, his eyes red-rimmed, and pulled me into a crushing hug. “Sophia, thank you… Marrying you was the best thing that ever happened to me. Trust me, as soon as I get back on my feet, I will get that house back for you.” It was all a lie. The bankruptcy, the threat of prison… it was all an act. A performance designed to trick me into giving up the last thing my mother left me, just so he could hand it over to Kiera as a gift. Her posts had ignited a firestorm. Users started new threads just to condemn her. [This mother-daughter homewrecker duo makes me sick. The mom steals the husband, the daughter steals the next generation’s husband. They’re like vultures preying on one family!] [BUMP THIS TO THE TOP! The wife has to see this! She needs to see the true faces of the vipers she has coiled around her!] Reading the furious comments, silent tears streamed down my face. I knelt before my mother’s grave, carefully arranging the offerings. Mom, don’t you worry. Everything they owe us… I will take it all back. With interest. As I left the cemetery, the chill still clung to my bones. Just then, my phone vibrated. It was Daniel. The moment I answered, his voice, oozing with gentle apology, filled my ear. “Honey, I’m so sorry. A last-minute business trip came up, and I couldn’t get out of it. I couldn’t be there with you to see Mom.” “You’re always so alone… it breaks my heart. You know, maybe… maybe we should adopt a child?” “That way, when I’m busy, you’ll have someone to keep you company.” 2. So the mask was finally starting to slip. A hot wave of rage surged through me, but I forced it back down, swallowing the bile in my throat. “Sophia? Are you there?” “Hello? Honey?” “…I’m here,” I finally managed to say. Daniel let out a sigh of relief, his voice becoming even more tender. “Sophia, you saw the results from your last check-up. The doctor said you’re prone to miscarriages… it’s going to be difficult for us to have a child of our own.” “And I can’t bear to see you suffer for it, all those shots and pills… it kills me.” “So, honey, please think about it. What if we just adopt?” I almost laughed out loud. No one on this earth knew better than him why I was prone to miscarriages. I thought of Kiera’s post, of the “accidents,” and I fought back the stinging burn in my eyes. I squeezed a single, sharp word from between my teeth. “Fine.” Getting the answer he wanted, he audibly relaxed on the other end. “Great! We can talk about the details when I get back!” “You just wait for me at home, okay? I’ll bring you back a present.” He hung up immediately, not bothering to waste another second on pleasantries now that he had what he wanted. After that call, Daniel vanished. For three whole days, there was nothing. Not a word. Before, I would have made excuses for him. He’s on a business trip, he’s working hard for our future, I can’t bother him. I would have sent him timid little texts—”Remember to eat,” “Try to get some rest”—my heart aching for how “hard” he was working. Thinking back on it now, it was pathetic. He wasn’t busy. He was just desperate to run to his true love and prove his loyalty. Three days later, Daniel finally reappeared. The moment he walked in, he opened his arms for a hug, nuzzling his chin into the crook of my neck, his voice syrupy. “Honey, I missed you so much these past few days~” “Do you know, looking at your pictures was the only thing that got me through it. Now that I’m back… you’re going to have to make it up to me.” His warm breath on my ear was heavy with suggestion. The old me would have melted, completely putty in his hands. Now, all I felt was a wave of physical revulsion. “Let go of me!” The words escaped as a harsh command. I tore myself from his embrace. He froze, stunned for a second. Then, as if a switch flipped in his brain, his expression softened into that familiar, considerate mask. “Sophia, I know you’re angry that I couldn’t go with you on Mom’s anniversary,” he explained, taking my hand and pressing it against his own cheek. “It was my fault. Go ahead, hit me. Get it out of your system. I won’t fight back.” “Anything, as long as it makes you feel better.” His acting was clumsy, riddled with flaws. It was laughable that I had been so blind for so long, that I had ever believed him. I said nothing. I didn’t hit him. He took my silence as forgiveness. He immediately pivoted to his real agenda. “By the way, honey, remember what I said about adoption?” he said, striking while the iron was hot. “I didn’t want you to worry about all the details, so I just brought him home with me. I wanted you to meet him first, see if you connect?” He clapped his hands. Before I could process what was happening, his assistant walked in, leading a little boy of about five or six by the hand. The boy was quiet, but his features sent a jolt of ice through my heart. In his eyes, his brow… there was an unmistakable resemblance to Kiera. Rage, pure and primal, shot through me. This was my mother’s killer’s son. If I’d had any lingering doubts about the forum post, they were now all but gone. “H-Hello, ma’am…” the boy whispered, his voice timid. My entire body went rigid, my fingertips turning to ice. Daniel, however, acted perfectly natural, taking my hand and guiding it toward the boy’s head. “His name is Cody. He’s five. Grew up in an orphanage, very smart and well-behaved. From now on, when I’m not home, he’ll be here to keep you company—” “Enough!” I snatched my hand back as if I’d been burned. The boy, startled by my outburst, burst into tears. Daniel immediately knelt down to comfort him. When he looked back up at me, his eyes were flashing with anger. “Sophia! I’m your husband, so you can take your anger out on me. But the child is innocent! How can you yell at a child like that?” The way he hovered over the boy, so protective and pained, he was the very picture of a loving father. And why wouldn’t he be? He was the boy’s biological father. This was the child he had with the woman who murdered my mother. It took every ounce of my willpower not to scream the truth in his face. I suppressed the violent trembling in my hands, gave him and the boy one last, cold look, and walked upstairs, locking the bedroom door behind me. I opened my palm. Inside were several strands of hair I had discreetly plucked from the boy’s head. I dialed my lawyer’s number. He had been my mother’s closest friend. For years, he had been quietly investigating her death, searching for the real killer. “Mr. Coleman, Kiera is back in the country.” 3. I carefully sealed the strands of hair in a small plastic bag. “She has a child with her, about five years old.” “I have a hair sample from the boy. I need you to arrange a paternity test and a full background check on him. Immediately.” “This time,” I said, my voice low and hard, “I’m going to make sure she pays for what she did.” After hanging up, I stared at the bag in my hand, a heavy weight settling in my chest. My phone buzzed. The forum post had been updated again. [That idiot actually dared to give me attitude. I generously let my lapdog bring our son for her to raise, and she’s not even grateful?] [Whatever. It’s not like she’s ever been smart. The lapdog only married her so he could sign my release papers, and she still hasn’t figured it out after all these years.] [I’ll just have him sweet-talk her a bit more. There’s no way she’ll refuse to adopt him in the end.] [Besides, I even ‘sacrificed’ the failed prototype of that seashell bracelet we made together. He can use it to calm her down.] Attached was a close-up photo of an exquisite seashell bracelet on her wrist. Just as I exited the app, Daniel pushed the door open. “Honey, I’m sorry. I was too hasty with the adoption thing. I didn’t think it through.” I quickly shoved the bag of hair into my pocket. He sat down on the edge of the bed, his voice soft and placating. “I’ve already had my assistant take the boy for now. We can wait until you’re ready.” “Don’t be angry anymore. Look what I brought you.” He produced a velvet box. Inside lay a seashell bracelet. It was identical to the one in Kiera’s photo, but the craftsmanship was crude, the shells and tiny diamonds dull and lifeless. The “failed prototype,” just as she’d said. “It will look beautiful on you,” he murmured, leaning in to fasten it around my wrist. A sickening feeling rose in my throat. I instinctively recoiled, yanking my hand away. “Don’t touch me!” The bracelet flew from his grasp, shattering on the floor. Daniel shot to his feet, the gentle mask cracking and falling away. “Sophia, there’s a limit to your tantrums!” he roared. He wasn’t even trying to pretend anymore. Was he angry because of my attitude? Or because I had just destroyed the precious keepsake he made with his true love? He continued his tirade. “So what if I was busy with work and missed your mother’s anniversary? I was doing it for our future!” “Besides, I tried to make it up to you! I brought home a child so you wouldn’t be lonely, I bought you a gift to cheer you up, and what do I get? You throw it all back in my face! Is this how a wife is supposed to act?” “Let me tell you something,” he snarled, his voice raw with fury, “you’re adopting that child whether you like it or not!” Seeing his rage finally boil over, revealing his true intentions, a cold smile formed on my lips. “Honey, I…” Daniel trailed off, seeing the look on my face. He seemed to realize he’d gone too far and tried to backtrack, but I gave him no chance. I pushed past him and left the room. That same day, I delivered the hair sample to the lab Mr. Coleman had arranged. Then I checked into a hotel to wait for the results. Two days passed. I didn’t hear from my lawyer, but I did get a call from my father. “Sophia, why are you becoming as unreasonable as your dead mother?!” he bellowed the moment I answered. “Daniel is a busy man! He was thoughtful enough to find a child to keep you company, and you throw a fit?” Thoughtful? I laughed silently, bitterly. They had all conspired to trick me into raising my mother’s murderer’s child, and I was supposed to be grateful? Before I could say a word, he delivered his ultimatum. “I don’t have time to argue with you. Daniel’s idea to adopt is a good one, and I’ve already given him my approval.” “The adoption ceremony is tomorrow. As the child’s adoptive mother, you are required to be there.” He hung up. Almost simultaneously, a message came through from Mr. Coleman. I opened the attached file, my eyes scanning the key lines of the paternity test and the background investigation. A slow, cold smile spread across my face. Oh, I’d be there. I wouldn’t miss the adoption ceremony for the world. I wanted to watch, with my own two eyes, as a murderer was finally brought to justice.

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Drunk at a dinner party, I called out “Hubby” to my boss. Colleagues teased: “Crazy for chasing the boss.” The boss scolded me with a cold face: “If you can’t control your mouth, why drink?” In the brief silence. The most difficult client sitting opposite sneered. “She’s calling me.” “Why are you so excited?” 1 I chased Liam Ford from college all the way into his company to be his assistant. Everyone knew I liked Liam. When delivering documents, I heard people inside teasing him. “Chloe Vance, such a socialite, humbling herself to be your assistant. Are you really willing?” Liam “tsked.” “She insisted on coming, what could I do?” The others laughed. “True, she always liked sticking to you.” “Hasn’t changed after all these years.” “But Liam, do you really not plan to be with Chloe?” “She probably dreams of being with you.” “Last time her family arranged a blind date for her, you asked us to drink late at night. I thought you cared about her.” As soon as this sentence was finished. Liam suddenly seemed angry, his voice becoming very cold. “Just a clingy nuisance, what would I care about?” Outside the door, my hand, ready to knock, slowly dropped. I grabbed the handle directly and pushed the door open. The people inside were stunned for a moment by my intrusion. But only for a moment. Soon they smiled again as if nothing had happened: “Assistant Vance, here to deliver breakfast to Liam again?” The daily unshakeable breakfast delivery. Liam didn’t even lift his head, as if he had already expected what I would do. He just casually nodded his chin towards me. “Put it on the table.” But I shook my head. Putting the documents in my hand together with the resignation letter on the table. “Not breakfast.” “It’s my resignation letter.” “Check it, Mr. Ford.” 2 Several people were dumbfounded. They swarmed forward, and after reading the text on the letter clearly, asked in disbelief: “No, Chloe, are you serious?” Liam finally frowned and looked up. He looked at me. “What kind of tantrum is this?” I pushed the resignation letter towards him. “I’m resigning.” “The electronic version has also been sent to your email, remember to check.” Liam glanced at the letter on the table and asked somewhat impatiently: “Just because I made you work overtime for a while yesterday?” I shook my head: “No.” “I just don’t want to do it anymore.” Liam’s face finally sank bit by bit. When I turned to leave, he stopped me. “Chloe.” “If you leave now, don’t ever think about coming back to me.” Like a threat, and like a warning. I didn’t even turn back. “Couldn’t ask for more.” The atmosphere in the room instantly dropped to freezing point. When pushing the door to leave, there were cautious probing voices behind me. “Liam, she’s just throwing a tantrum, don’t take it to heart…” “Yeah, you know how much she likes you, right?” “Maybe she’ll regret it this afternoon and clamor to come back…” Liam stared dead at the closed door and sneered. “Who cares about her.” 3 I threw away all the useless things in the company. In the end, nothing was left. Looking at the empty workstation, I wanted to laugh a little. I recalled the anonymous video I received last night when I was kept working overtime at the company. In the brightly lit private room, Liam hugged a stunning beauty, listening carelessly to the discussions of the people around him. “Is Chloe really obediently staying at Liam’s company doing hard labor right now?” “I think Liam has methods. Such a socialite, how long has it been since she attended our gatherings?” Indeed. Chasing Liam for so many years, I, a wealthy daughter, worked like a horse for him. As long as he opened his mouth, I was willing to work overtime and socialize for him, suffering from a body full of pain. In the end, I only got a joke from his brothers. “Looking at it this way, Chloe really looks like the most obedient dog around Liam.” And he raised his glass and shook it gently aside, not denying it. Even chuckled. “What are you saying?” “She’s the only one around me like a dog, where does ‘most’ come from?” Causing a burst of laughter around. At that moment, I felt like someone poured a basin of cold water on me from head to toe. Very cold. But also seemed to sober up instantly. Thinking about it, I silently took out my phone and dug out the blind date arranged by my family some time ago from my contacts. Heard he is a top-notch person. It’s just that my heart was full of Liam before, dragging on meeting, and wanted to ruin the blind date. Now… Although it seems a bit immoral. But as everyone knows, the best way to get rid of the previous relationship completely—is to start the next one. I tapped the screen lightly. [Can we meet tomorrow?] Didn’t expect the other side to reply almost instantly. [Okay.] 4 The blind date was very gentlemanly. Proactively stated time set by me, place arranged by him. It’s just that when my parents mentioned the blind date before, I didn’t listen to a word. Leading to my current ignorance of this blind date’s information. Arriving at the appointed place early, I hesitated outside the door. What if I don’t recognize him later, will it be awkward? Just pacing back and forth, accidentally bumped into someone. I looked up. Entering my view was a well-tailored suit. Further up, was a face with features so exquisite it was outrageous. And the owner of this face was looking at me with a gentle expression. “Why not go in?” His thin lips that looked particularly kissable opened and closed with the rhythm of speaking… I swallowed subconsciously. And quickly realized my loss of composure. Because I knew this person. Julian Thorne. A famous tycoon in the circle. I saw him countless times among the targets and objects of Liam’s company. But it was said he was ruthless, merciless, and extremely hard to approach. Cooperation never succeeded once. I retreated repeatedly to make way for him. “Sorry sorry, I was waiting for someone, got a bit distracted, really sorry, you go in first…” Result the person in front chuckled lightly. “Miss Vance.” I looked up in surprise. How did he know my surname? His eyes were smiling. “Is there a possibility that the person you are waiting for is me?” 5 I was shocked. My family only said they introduced me to a particularly good blind date. But I never dared to think it would be a figure of Julian’s level. Until sitting face to face with Julian in the private room he arranged. I kept smiling on the surface. Hands under the table frantically messaged my mom. [The blind date you arranged for me is Julian Thorne?] [Is our family status already able to marry him?] [Did you guys secretly make it big behind my back?] My mom replied with question marks instantly. [?] [What are you saying daughter? Dreaming in broad daylight?] [Arranged is a distant nephew of Julian Thorne.] [Did your aunt not explain clearly to you?] I glanced at the man opposite smiling at me. Could there be a second face this good-looking in the world? Meeting his gaze. I couldn’t pretend to be busy anymore. Could only stammer. “That…” “Excuse me, are you… Mr. Julian Thorne?” He nodded, then smiled apologetically. “Yes.” “My bad, haven’t introduced myself yet.” “Hello Miss Vance, I am Julian Thorne, your blind date this time, honored to meet you.” Concise self-introduction. Just completely different from the information my mom gave me. I was messy. “But, the blind date arranged for me… isn’t…” Julian raised an eyebrow. Picked up the tea cup on the table and took a sip. “That kid isn’t good enough for you.” “So I came.” He looked up at me. “What’s wrong?” “Does Miss Vance prefer him?” I was stunned. The way he spoke… Why did it seem like he knew me well? My heart was beating fast. But Julian remained calm, a pair of quiet and deep eyes staring at me unblinkingly, the meaning of expecting an answer was quite obvious. I had to bite the bullet and speak. “Of course not… I don’t even know him.” He chuckled lightly. “Then I substitute for him, it doesn’t matter, right?” I swallowed. “No…” Of course it doesn’t matter to me. No matter how you look at it, he’s the one losing out, right? But Julian seemed very happy because of my answer. He took out a thick resume from somewhere, got up and bent over, putting it in front of me. “That’s good.” “This is my personal resume, written with some of my basic information, hobbies and specialties, position and salary, and personal assets. Miss Vance can take a look.” “To be honest with Miss Vance, I came to this blind date with the purpose of marriage.” “My social circle has no opposite sex, I can guarantee absolute loyalty to marriage, and after marriage I will do everything promised before marriage, gifting all personal property unconditionally.” “I won’t impose any pressure on my other half, she enjoys absolute freedom under the premise of not divorcing.” “If Miss Vance is fairly satisfied with my conditions, I hope my wish…” After saying this long string, he suddenly paused. Those beautiful eyes started discharging electricity at me again. “Can be considered.” Julian’s voice was originally warm and magnetic, that handsome face that people couldn’t look away from was still staring at me unblinkingly. I was really a bit confused. Floating on air. Is this my fantasy after being driven crazy by Liam? Hand under the table, pinched my thigh hard. Hiss. So painful! Not a dream. Maybe my expression became more and more dull. Until laughter spread in Julian’s eyes, I realized I lost composure again. Hurriedly picked up the cup for a tactical drink. Then spoke pretending to be calm. “Mr. Thorne.” “You mean… do you want to marry me?” He looked at me. Nodded very seriously. “Yes.” “Miss Vance, I hope to have this honor, to become your husband.” 6 His attitude was clear and firm. I was truly at a loss. Since when did blind dates lead to marriage immediately? The object was Julian… This man whom I felt was always unreachable before. Sat opposite me so sincerely and gently. Saying he wanted to be my husband. I still found it unbelievable. “But… why me?” He seemed to have guessed I would ask this. Leaned back calmly, tilting his head. “For a lady like Miss Vance whose character and appearance are one in a million, does wanting to marry you need a reason?” After speaking, he raised his eyebrows at me with a smile. His tone and demeanor were simply too serious. Making me a bit embarrassed instead. I touched my nose. “But aren’t your conditions better?” Julian paused for two seconds, rarely. Looked straight into my eyes. “Then does Miss Vance think I am good?” I froze. Swallowed subconsciously. Silently looked at the table full of dishes completely suiting my taste, obviously prepared with care. I wanted to say just now. I only asked him out so late yesterday. A meal today could actually study my taste preferences so meticulously. At least as a blind date, he was extremely sincere. Treating people was not at all cold and ruthless as rumored. Plus his own pile of god-tier hardware and software conditions… Who would think he is not good? I hesitated for a moment. “You…” “Are pretty good.” Julian was visibly happy again, lowered his head and chuckled twice. Pushed that resume towards me. “Then want to try with me?” Realizing he meant marriage. I subconsciously escaped inside. This step hadn’t appeared in my life plan yet. But the emotion revealed by Julian was really too sincere. I also wanted to be as honest as possible. “We can try getting in touch first.” “After all, marriage… is it a bit too fast?” Hearing my answer, a flash of dimness passed through his eyes. But quickly covered by him. Nodded very obediently. “Okay, listen to you.” 7 After eating, Julian asked his assistant to arrange a driver to send me back. Overhearing the conversation between the assistant and him on the way, I learned that at the time point I asked him for dinner, there was actually a quite important international meeting. I felt so guilty instantly. “Did I delay your meeting? Sorry, I didn’t know…” Julian waved his hand to comfort me. “What does it matter?” “It can be held anytime.” Although his tone was calm, everything told me it didn’t matter. But I still felt very sorry. Seeing me a bit down, Julian actually bent down, put his face in front of me, and blinked. “Besides, how can a meeting be as important as marrying a wife?” “After all, you asked me out, which is not a good thing that can be encountered often.” His face was very close to me. Close enough that I could see his long and dense eyelashes fluttering. And in those unbelievably good-looking eyes, filled with me. At this moment, I could even hear the sound of my heart beating faster and faster. “Julian…” Maybe seeing my unnatural expression. Julian’s ear roots also turned slightly red. He slowly pulled away the distance from me again. “Cough…” “Then I’ll go busy first.” Farewell was hasty. And when he turned and walked away with long legs, his steps seemed a bit… uncoordinated. I watched his back, slowly rolled up the car window. There was an unspeakable happiness in my heart. It seems… I actually like getting along with Julian very much. Until evening. Julian probably just finished work, sent me a message. It was a picture of the bright moon hanging high, looked like just taken. I quickly replied: [So beautiful.] He replied faster. [Yes, seeing it makes me think of you.] Think of me? My face felt inexplicably hot. [Are you always this good at flirting?] He looked like an honest man. [Just said what I thought of.] [Does this count as flirting?] This person… How can he always say words that make people blush and heart beat so seriously? I was thinking about how to reply. A new message popped up opposite. [Free to have dinner together tomorrow?] I hardly hesitated. [Yes.]

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Worried that the girl he sponsored couldn’t afford a train ticket, my childhood sweetheart changed his college application from Southern University to a local college in our city. When I found out, there were only two hours left before the deadline. My best friend, cautious and hopeful: “Chloe, there’s still time.” “You can change it now, it’s not too late.” I looked at the photo of Liam Carter on my screen and shook my head bitterly: “I won’t change it. Let it be.” 1 At 5 PM, the college application deadline officially passed. Only then did my best friend believe that I was truly set on going to Southern U. She excitedly started planning my college life. Just then, the sound of the digital lock unlocking came from outside. Liam Carter walked in with Sarah Miller in tow: “Chloe, did you finish your application?” “I told her already. With our grades, the only local colleges we can apply to are those few. But Sarah was still worried and insisted on coming over to ask.” “She cares about you more than I do.” As he spoke, he looked at the girl beside him with a helpless yet indulgent expression. After deciding not to go to the same college as Liam, my mindset seemed to have shifted. Seeing him intimate with Sarah no longer made my heart ache. I nodded calmly: “I’ve filled out my application. Do you guys need something?” Liam, seeing my cold expression, looked a bit displeased: “Chloe, what’s with the attitude?” Sarah glanced at him, lowered her head in embarrassment, and spoke timidly: “Chloe, my family is poor.” “Southern U is too far from us. Just the train tickets for winter and summer breaks would cost a lot of money.” “My SAT scores were just average. Rather than going out of state, it’s better to stay local.” “It’s all because of me that Liam decided to change his school at the last minute.” “We were just picking a major for me, so we didn’t make it here in time. We only called you.” “Please don’t be mad at him.” Listening to Sarah’s words, which sounded like an explanation but were actually showing off, I said indifferently: “Didn’t you know all of this long ago?” “Why didn’t you say anything when we first started applying? Why wait until now?” Sarah looked startled and hurriedly explained: “It’s not like that.” “I discussed this with Liam a long time ago. We just finalized it now.” Discussed a long time ago? I lowered my eyes. Turns out, while I was full of anticipation about going to Southern U with Liam… He was planning his future with Sarah. Seeing I didn’t respond, Sarah’s voice grew quieter, eventually ending in a sob. As if she had been wronged terribly. Liam spoke up, dissatisfied: “Alright, Chloe.” “Didn’t I tell you when I changed my application?” “Why won’t you let it go?” His cold tone woke me up instantly. I looked at the handsome boy’s face and avoided his gaze: “I’m not mad. I was just curious why you suddenly changed your application.” Now that it’s clear, I can finally let go completely. 2 Liam and I were childhood sweethearts. After my dad passed away, my mom went south for business, leaving just me and my grandma at home year-round. Some mean classmates knew about my situation and would bully me. Stealing my pencils during exams, letting the air out of my bike tires after school. I didn’t want to worry my grandma, so I could only wipe my tears secretly. That’s when Liam appeared. He beat up the bullies fiercely and took me to a shop to fix my bike. From then on, I became his little follower. Going to school together, leaving school together, walking through the seasons of our youth together. We agreed to apply to Southern U together, and once we got in, we would officially start dating. Until a year ago, when Sarah appeared. She was a student from a poor family sponsored by Liam’s mom. Because the education quality in her hometown was poor, she transferred to the city for her senior year and stayed at the Carter’s house. At first, Liam was a bit resistant to her. Whether at home or school, he rarely spoke to her. But Sarah carefully tried to please him. Afraid of upsetting him. Sometimes when I saw her, it was like seeing myself back then, bullied and helpless. When Liam ignored her, I would talk to her. I even advised Liam to be nicer to her. But he remained unmoved. Until one day after school, we found Sarah hiding alone in a classroom. Solving problems while crying silently. Liam’s expression at that moment was complex—moved, guilty, unbearable. Thinking back now, there was also a hint of imperceptible heartache. After that, his attitude softened. He would let me go home alone so he could tutor Sarah. He would switch seats to be next to Sarah because she didn’t get along with her deskmate. This afternoon, he called to say he was giving up Southern U to stay local with Sarah. I felt sad and disappointed. But mostly, I felt a sense of relief. Like something had finally settled. 3 Liam was certain I would follow him and change my application back to a local school. He didn’t even ask me where I applied. Just left with Sarah. When my best friend, Ruby, and I arrived at the restaurant for the class reunion, they were already there. I looked around and picked a seat furthest from Liam. I didn’t notice the confusion in his eyes when he looked at me. A guy close to Liam joked: “Chloe, why sit so far away?” “If you don’t make a move, Liam might really get snatched away.” As for who would snatch him, everyone present knew. Sarah wasn’t angry; instead, a blush crept up her face, and she glanced shyly at Liam. The class president sensed the awkward atmosphere and tried to smooth things over: “What nonsense. Liam and Chloe are so close.” “They agreed to go to Southern U together.” “Right, Chloe?” Before I could speak, Sarah answered first: “Liam didn’t apply to Southern U.” “He was afraid I couldn’t afford the living expenses there, so he applied to a local school with me.” Her face was full of triumph, as if declaring victory. The table went quiet. Someone couldn’t help but ask me: “Chloe, is this true?” “Aren’t you mad?” I looked at the smug Sarah and answered nonchalantly: “What’s there to be mad about?” “Everyone has their own choice.” Just like Liam chose Sarah. And I chose Southern U. 4 Halfway through the meal, I went to the restroom. When I came back, I found Liam and Sarah had somehow switched to the seats next to mine. Liam’s face was flushed; he must have had some alcohol. Seeing me, his eyes sparkled, and he leaned close to my ear: “Chloe, I know you’re still mad about me changing my application.” “But you know Sarah’s family situation.” “If she goes south for school, she can’t even afford the train tickets for breaks.” “Staying local makes it much easier for her to go home.” “She’s timid and has a soft personality.” “You wouldn’t have the heart to leave her here alone for college, right?” “Sarah said so.” “If you want to go south, we can go on a trip together in a couple of days.” “So don’t be mad, okay?” I pushed Liam’s head away as he leaned too close and took a sip of tea: “I said, I’m not mad.” “Besides, didn’t Sarah say she couldn’t even afford living expenses for college? Where did she get the money for a trip?” Crash. The cup in Sarah’s hand fell to the ground. She bit her lip and looked at me: “Chloe, I know your family is well off, so you’ve always looked down on me.” “I borrowed the money for this trip from Liam, but I’ll pay him back slowly.” “Is it only rich people like you who can enjoy their youth?” “Do kids from poor families like us just have to accept our fate and work part-time everywhere?” Classmates whispered: “Chloe does seem to be targeting Sarah a bit.” “Yeah, although Chloe has good grades, her temper is a bit bad. If I were Liam, I wouldn’t choose her either.” Sarah’s eyes were filled with tears. Liam’s gaze gradually turned cold: “Chloe, apologize to Sarah.” Ruby stood up for me: “Isn’t she the one who keeps saying her family is poor?” “Chloe just asked a casual question. Why should she apologize?” “Summer break is so long; she could totally work part-time to save money for a trip.” “Now she’s not doing work-study, nor going back home to help her parents.” “Hanging out with you every day, borrowing money for a trip. If not her, who else to criticize?” Sarah cried even harder. Watching the scene in front of me, I suddenly felt bored. I pulled Ruby up to leave. Liam grabbed my wrist, unrelenting: “Chloe, apologize to Sarah.” “Or else, don’t even think about coming on the trip.” My wrist hurt from his grip. I pried his fingers off one by one and sneered: “Liam Carter, go wherever you want with Sarah Miller, do whatever you want.” “I have no interest in getting involved between you two.” “Not the slightest interest.” “Don’t come looking for me again.” With that, I left without looking back. Leaving Liam standing there with a dark expression. That night, Sarah posted on her social media. In the photo, her fingers were intertwined with Liam’s. Caption: At the best age, meeting the best you. I glanced at it, but my heart didn’t waver much. I continued packing my luggage, planning to spend the summer with my mom.

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A deep-seated fear of being framed has blessed me with an almost pathological need to document everything. When my elementary school teacher accused me of not turning in the class fees, I produced surveillance footage of me placing the cash on her desk, counting it out ten times under the camera’s watchful eye. She had to admit she’d lost it. Years later, when accounting tried to pin a late expense report on me, I produced chat logs from six apps and emails CC’d to eight managers. The accountant had to publicly admit her incompetence. And when that same company tried to fire me for “gross violations,” I presented over a thousand pieces of video and photo evidence, playing it frame-by-frame for thirty hours. My boss ended up tearfully writing me a check for two months’ severance. Then, my ultra-wealthy biological parents found me and offered me a position at Apex Industries. My direct supervisor? The fake heiress who had been living my life. To protect myself, every button on my clothes was a hidden camera, every pen a recorder. I screen-recorded every chat and even hacked into the company’s 188 surveillance cameras. My paranoia paid off when the fake heiress, Jocelyn, confronted me, her face covered in an angry red rash. “Vera,” she demanded, trembling, “I told you I was allergic to milk. Why would you put it in my coffee?” I knew right then that all my preparations were about to bear fruit. … I feigned a moment of confusion. “But you’re the one who asked for a latte, weren’t you?” The words had barely left my lips when my biological brother, Grayson, burst out of the CEO’s office. He cradled Jocelyn’s face, his expression a mask of anguish. Then, his eyes, burning with fury, locked onto me. “Jocelyn is deathly allergic to milk! Why would she ever ask for a latte? You were jealous, weren’t you? You wanted to kill her! Figures. Gutter-rat from the middle of nowhere.” Jocelyn quickly intervened, dabbing at her crocodile tears. “It’s okay, Grayson. Vera has every right to hate me. I’m the one who stole her life. If my dying would make her feel better, then I’m willing.” With a dramatic flourish, she grabbed the half-finished latte and brought it to her lips as if to down the rest. Grayson panicked, slapping the cup from her hand. He started shouting for a doctor, his corporate image shattering on the marble floor. He turned back to me, his gaze dripping with venom. “Even if something happened to Jocelyn, a piece of trash like you would never take her place as a Sterling! If you hadn’t come crawling back to us, she would still be my only sister. You’re the one who ruined her life! You’re shameless!” I almost burst out laughing. Ignoring Grayson, I stared directly at Jocelyn. “Are you sure you’re not trying to frame me?” Jocelyn’s face crumpled instantly into a theatrical display of tears. “Vera, are you suggesting I’d risk my own health just to frame you? If I’ve told a single lie, I’ll get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness right here, right now!” Without a word, I pulled out a pen recorder and pressed play. Jocelyn’s clear, sweet voice filled the silent office. 【Hey, Vera, if you’re not too busy, could you grab me a latte? One-third sugar, please.~】 The entire floor went dead quiet. Jocelyn’s eyes bulged as she stared at the recorder in my hand, clearly blindsided by my level of preparation. “You… you misheard me! I never said the word latte!” She tried to scramble for an excuse, but I just let the recording continue. 【Just to confirm, you want a coffee with whole milk?】 【Yes, that’s right. Thanks so much.】 This time, she had nothing to say. “Recordings are easy to fake,” Grayson snarled, still defending her. “A scheming bitch like you probably planned this from the start!” “I have video, too,” I said, pulling out my phone. I played the full, unedited clip for the entire office to see. Watching the color drain from Jocelyn’s face, then return in splotches of red and white, I allowed myself a triumphant smirk. “Well, Jocelyn? Get on your knees.” Jocelyn gasped for air a few times before her eyes rolled back and she collapsed. Grayson dropped to the floor, cradling her and wailing, but not without throwing one last accusation at me. “Are you happy now? Look what you’ve done to her!” I rolled my eyes so hard I thought they’d get stuck. What I had done? All I did was play back her own words! Just then, my dear biological parents rushed in. After hearing a wildly embellished version of events from a coworker, my father turned to me, his face a stern mask of disappointment. “Vera, I know you resent your sister, but you can’t force her to kneel before you!” I didn’t speak. I just pressed the play button on the recorder again. 【If I’ve told a single lie, I’ll get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness right here, right now!】 Hearing this, my parents’ expressions soured even further. “Even if Jocelyn made a mistake, she is still your sister,” my mother scolded. “You should learn to be more forgiving. We Sterlings don’t raise our daughters to be so petty!” “You never raised me at all,” I said flatly. The single sentence shut my father up completely. “Is there anything else? If not, I’m getting back to work.” Ignoring them, I walked back to my desk. This level of drama was child’s play compared to what I’d endured my whole life. They rushed Jocelyn to the hospital. That evening, I got a call from her. “Vera, I’m so sorry about today. Let me buy you a drink to make it up to you.” I considered it for a moment, then agreed. When I got to the bar, I found Jocelyn with a group of seven or eight other people. “So this is Jocelyn’s long-lost sister? A real step down.” “Told you there’s a world of difference between city folk and country hicks. Who cares if she’s the real heiress? She has zero class.” “I don’t know, guys, she looks like she could be a good time. Wonder if she had to sell herself to make ends meet.” I ignored their snide remarks and scrolled through my phone. A sleazy-looking guy swaggered over and offered me a drink. I politely told him I was allergic to alcohol. His face flushed with anger. “What the hell? You think you’re too good to drink with me?” Jocelyn chimed in, a sickly sweet tone in her voice. “Come on, Vera. If you don’t drink, it means you’re still mad at me, doesn’t it?” “You’re right. I am still mad at you.” My bluntness stunned her into silence. I truly couldn’t fathom the audacity of this girl who had stolen my entire life. I turned on my phone’s video camera and addressed the whole table. “Just so everyone is aware, if your pressuring me to drink results in any adverse health effects, under state liability laws, every single one of you could be looking at an assault charge.” That shut them up. The desire to interact with me vanished from the room. Jocelyn shot me a venomous look before turning back to her posse and continuing to drink. A few hours later, she was completely wasted. As I was about to help her home, one of her friends stopped me. “The Sterling estate is way too far from here. It’s not safe for two girls to be out this late. Why don’t you just take her to the apartment she rents nearby?” She gave me an address. It seemed logical enough, so I took Jocelyn there. The thought of spending another minute in the same room with her was nauseating, so I dropped her off and called a car for myself. I never expected to be woken up the next morning by Grayson dragging me out of bed and slapping me hard across the face. “You’re a monster! How could you do that to Jocelyn!” I was still reeling from the blow, completely disoriented. Before I could even ask what was going on, he hauled me to the apartment I’d left Jocelyn in. The scene was chaos. Jocelyn was on the floor, her clothes ripped, her skin covered in horrifying marks. She was sobbing hysterically. My parents were there, comforting her. When they saw me, my mother marched over and slapped me without a word. “What did she ever do to you?” she screamed. “How could you hate her so much that you’d hire someone to ruin her?” “I just took her to the address her friend gave me,” I managed to say, holding out the recording I’d made at the bar. But Jocelyn was one step ahead. “I-I don’t even know that person!” she cried. “And this isn’t my apartment! Vera, if you hate me, you can hit me, you can scream at me, but you can’t do this! You can’t destroy my life like this!” Grayson looked ready to tear me apart. If our parents hadn’t been holding him back, he probably would have. “You bitch! You brought her here, left her all alone, and didn’t tell anyone? And you expect us to believe this wasn’t your plan all along?” “But I did tell you!” “When?” Grayson scoffed. In the stunned silence that followed, I pulled out my phone and showed them the email I’d sent to all three of them. It detailed Jocelyn’s drunken state, her current location, and a request for them to come pick her up. “I also sent a message to Mom and Dad’s phones, but I guess they were asleep. As for you,” I said, looking at Grayson, “you never accepted my contact request.” Grayson fumbled for his phone. There it was, at the top of his requests: a message from me. I had even added a note: 【Jocelyn’s drunk. Come get her when you have a chance.】 He was dumbfounded. It took him a long moment to find his voice. “So what if you told us? This was obviously part of your calculation! How else could she have been attacked in her own room so conveniently?” “You’ll have to ask your dear sister that,” I said with a shrug. Jocelyn’s head snapped up. “Vera, are you actually suggesting I would use my own body, my own honor, to frame you? I’m not that depraved!” “She’s right,” my mother added, her voice laced with disappointment. “I raised Jocelyn for over twenty years. I know her character. But you, Vera… you were raised by those crude people in the countryside. It’s no wonder you picked up some of their wicked ways.” They tag-teamed me, defending Jocelyn while tearing me down. I let out a bitter laugh. What was the point of a family like this? “Good thing I was worried about my sister’s safety,” I said coolly. “So I planted a small hidden camera on her nightstand before I left.” Jocelyn’s face went white.

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Chapter 1 We held our wedding ceremony three years ago, yet my pilot wife has canceled our appointment to get our marriage license eighteen times. The first time, her male trainee had a test flight, and I waited on the steps of City Hall for an entire day. The second time, she received a call from him halfway there, made a sudden U-turn, and dropped me off on the side of the highway. After that, whenever we scheduled an appointment, her trainee would inevitably have some sort of emergency. Eventually, I decided to leave her. But the moment I boarded the plane to Paris, she chased after me like she had lost her mind. We’ve been “married” for three years, but Chloe never made it legal. Today marked her 1,000th successful flight—a huge milestone—and it was also the seventeenth date she had promised we’d finally go to City Hall. But at her celebration dinner, while I was being pressured into drink after drink by her superiors, she was busy laughing and whispering with Ryan, her male First Officer and mentee. I nursed a high fever, drinking until I was nearly unconscious, yet she didn’t spare me a single glance. Many of my colleagues sighed, looking at me with pity. Everyone could see who I was destroying my health for. When the party ended, Chloe, who was supposed to head to the courthouse with me, bailed once again. She pulled her car up to the curb and stopped me just as I reached for the door handle. “Ryan drank too much covering for me earlier. I need to drive him home. You take an Uber.” Her voice was clipped, professional. “We probably won’t make it to the Clerk’s Office this afternoon. Let’s reschedule.” Without waiting for a reaction, she rushed out of the driver’s seat to gingerly help Ryan into the passenger side—my seat. Eight years of dating, three years of marriage, and this was the seventeenth time Chloe had pushed me aside for Ryan. In the past, I would have exploded. I would have screamed, demanded to know who her husband actually was, and pointed out that I was the one blocking drinks for her all night. But this time, I just smiled faintly. “Okay. Drive safe.” Chloe paused, clearly surprised by my calmness. But her indifference returned a second later. “I’ll buy you a gift to make up for it when I get back tonight.” She drove off. Before speeding away, I saw her lean over to roll up the window for Ryan, afraid the drunk kid would catch a chill. The old Chloe never allowed the smell of alcohol in her car. Even in the dead of winter, she’d blast the AC if I had been drinking. I realized then that her rules only applied to me. The Los Angeles midday sun was scorching, but my heart felt like ice. I took a deep breath and put my birth certificate and documents back into my bag. It was time to let go of these eight years. Chapter 2 That afternoon, I went straight to the company HQ and handed in my resignation letter. “Does Chloe know you’re quitting?” My manager was shocked. I had been the airline’s Gold Tier Purser for seven consecutive years. I had a bright future here. I forced a bitter smile. “I’ll tell her tonight. Not that she’ll care.” “It’s a shame,” the manager sighed. “You two flew new routes together, won awards together… Three years ago, even the CEO attended your wedding. Everyone envied you two. But…” He trailed off, shaking his head. Yes, those were beautiful memories. But memories are just ghosts of the past. We could never go back. It was past 10 PM when I got home. The house was cold and empty. My phone buzzed. A notification from Instagram popped up. Ryan had tagged me in a post. The photo showed the dashboard of Chloe’s car. The caption read: “Thanks to my beautiful mentor for staying by my side all afternoon. As a thank you, I’m taking her to the Coldplay concert tomorrow! Can’t wait.” I knew then that Chloe, who said she’d be back tonight, wasn’t coming home. This scenario had played out too many times over the last three years. I made a cup of instant noodles and opened my email. Offers from airlines in over ten countries sat in my inbox. I moved the mouse and clicked on the offer from Air France without hesitation. I booked a flight to Paris for two days later. Five years ago, Chloe encountered the biggest scare of her career during a flight to Paris. Since then, the city became a taboo subject. She refused to fly there, and out of solidarity, neither did I. Going to Paris meant one thing: Chloe and I would likely never see each other again. Chapter 3 The next morning, I woke up and started packing. I was halfway through when Chloe came home, looking exhausted. She brought with her the overwhelming scent of men’s cologne. I paused, the smell stinging my nose. Chloe had sensitive skin and hated strong fragrances. For years, she scolded me if my shampoo was too scented. I stopped using cologne entirely for her. Now I realized she didn’t hate fragrances; she just didn’t like them on me. She saw the suitcases and froze. “Ryan was hungover badly last night. I got a hotel room nearby so I wouldn’t disturb you.” I looked up, surprised. It was the first time in three years she had bothered to explain herself. I nodded silently. She walked over, glancing at the luggage. “Packing for a trip? You have a flight?” “Something like that.” She seemed to relax visibly. “I have errands today. I just came back to grab something, then I’m heading out. Don’t wait up for lunch.” “Okay.” I didn’t look up, continuing to fold my clothes. I had planned to tell her about my resignation over lunch, to formally end our eight years. Now, it seemed, I wouldn’t get the chance. Chloe grabbed a red gift bag, took her coat from the rack, and hurried out. Crash! The vibration of the slamming door caused a picture frame, which had hung there for eight years, to fall and shatter. I looked at the debris. It was a photo of us at our first concert, hands clasped, smiling radiantly. That day, she promised she’d go to a concert with me every year, no matter how busy she was. But ever since Ryan became her trainee, she had forgotten everything. In the empty room, the clock ticked loudly. After a long silence, I swept up the glass shards. I took the photo—and the last of my lingering affection—and threw it into the trash. Chapter 4 By evening, I was lying in bed, exhausted, when my best friend, Mike, called. “What is wrong with Chloe? This is too much. Have you seen her story? She’s practically flaunting that pretty boy Ryan.” “You guys aren’t even divorced yet. How can she do this?” I opened my phone. At the top of my feed was Ryan’s new post. In the photo, Ryan was wearing a Patek Philippe watch, holding the red gift bag Chloe had retrieved earlier. So, she came home just to get his concert gift. The caption read: “Three years of knowing you. So lucky to have you, Chloe. Happy 3rd Anniversary!” It hit me then. Three years? Right. Today was technically my and Chloe’s third wedding anniversary. We had never celebrated it, so even I had forgotten. I exhaled slowly. “She doesn’t need a divorce, Mike. We never legally married.” “What?” Mike screamed. “You’ve been ‘married’ for three years and she still hasn’t signed the papers?” His shock was deafening. Yes. The wedding was three years ago. And she had unilaterally canceled our appointment seventeen times. Chapter 5 At 11 PM, Chloe unexpectedly came home. She took off her coat and went to hang it up, but froze when she saw the empty spot on the wall where our photo used to be. “Where’s our picture?” She walked into the bedroom, looking slightly panicked. “It fell and broke.” She glanced at the trash can, saw the glass, and relaxed. She reached into her bag and pulled out a shopping bag with a Gucci belt. “I didn’t have time to get your gift yesterday. Today is our third anniversary. Happy anniversary.” She tossed the belt onto the bed. I stared at it. Three years, and she actually remembered? Then I saw the receipt sticking out. Purchased thirty minutes ago. She had likely seen Ryan’s caption and panic-bought this on the way home. She didn’t know I already had two belts in this exact style hanging in the closet. I just looked at her. “By the way,” she said, her voice wavering slightly. “Could you… withdraw your name from the ‘Employee of the Year’ running? Ryan has been here for three years, and his biggest dream is to win it. You win every year. Can you let him have it this time?” I smiled internally. So the gift had a price tag. “Sure.” I nodded calmly. Not just this year. I wouldn’t be competing with him ever again. Because after tonight, I would be gone. “You… you agree?” She was surprised by my lack of resistance. She looked at me, guilt flickering in her eyes. “Ryan is my mentee,” she justified. “I should look out for him. And you’re basically his mentor too. It’s the right thing to do.” “Oh, right. I’m not flying tomorrow. Let’s go to City Hall at 10 AM and finally get the certificate.” I didn’t respond. She seemed to remember the luggage. “I forgot to ask, when is your flight tomorrow?” “3 PM.” I looked at her, ready to use this final moment to tell her the truth. But before I could speak, her phone rang. It was Ryan. His voice was weak; he had twisted his ankle and needed help. Chloe hung up, looking guilty. “Um… Ryan has a situation. He can’t handle it alone. I have to go.” She used a questioning tone, asking for permission. I swallowed my words, forced a smile, and nodded. “It’s fine. Go.” She looked relieved. She stood up immediately. “You have time before 3 PM. We’ll go to City Hall at 10 AM sharp tomorrow. Don’t worry. No matter what happens, I’ll be there.” I smiled bitterly. She never gave me the chance to say goodbye. The next morning. I took my luggage and went straight to the airport, skipping City Hall completely. I didn’t receive a single call from her asking where I was. It wasn’t until I was about to board that I got a text: “Sorry, Ryan is really in bad shape. I just took him to the hospital. I missed the appointment. When you get back from this trip, I’ll take you first thing.” My heart remained perfectly still. Predictably, the eighteenth time was also a cancellation. “No need, Chloe. I’ve resigned. I’m flying to Paris. After today, we won’t see each other again.” I sent the final message and prepared to turn off my phone. The next second, my phone exploded with vibrations. Chapter 6 The cabin announcement played, instructing passengers to turn off electronic devices. I ignored the vibrations, deleted Chloe’s contact information, and powered down the phone. From this moment on, Chloe and I were strangers. In the hospital. Chloe stared at her phone, going mad as her replies returned with a red exclamation mark: Message Not Delivered. She dialed my number repeatedly. “The subscriber you are calling is powered off.” She pressed the screen harder, as if brute force could connect the call. “Impossible… impossible,” she muttered. “We were fine yesterday. I told him we’d get the license.” She stood there in a daze for minutes before sprinting out of the hospital, driving recklessly to the airport. “Manager Davis! Ethan isn’t scheduled for Paris! Why did he resign? What is going on?!” She stormed into the Crew Center, grabbing my manager’s arm. The manager looked confused. “Ethan didn’t tell you? He resigned the night of your celebration dinner. I asked him if you knew, and he said he’d tell you that night.” Chloe felt like she’d been struck by lightning. She remembered. That night, she didn’t go home. Yesterday afternoon, she only stopped by to grab the gift. Last night, she left minutes after arriving. For two days, she hadn’t given me a single minute to speak. For two days, she had been with Ryan.

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After collaborating with the nation’s hottest heartthrob, his obsessed fangirls dragged me so hard I almost quit the industry. Drunk and scrolling through hate comments during a livestream, I finally snapped: “Leo Sterling? Please. He’s nothing. I trained that guy like a puppy back in the day.” “If he wanted to be my dog now, I’d have to think twice!” The haters lost their minds, calling me a clout-chaser. Until one day, a grainy video from my elementary school playground surfaced online. It showed a ten-year-old me, confidently walking two boys across the grass on literal leashes. One of them was the untouchable A-list star, Leo Sterling. The internet imploded. 【Is this really our brooding, high-cold king?】 【Holy hell, he’s actually panting for her. Get this girl a training manual!】 1 Back in the day, I was the undisputed queen of the playground. In elementary school, we had “Pet Responsibility Week.” The teachers asked us to bring in small animals to learn about care and commitment. Everyone showed up with cute goldfish or tiny turtles in plastic terrariums. My parents, however, were total germaphobes. They wouldn’t let a single stray hair in the house, let alone let me bring a living creature to school. Watching the other kids show off their bunnies and lizards made me so jealous I actually started sobbing. There was a new kid sitting next to me—pale, skinny, and incredibly shy. His name was Leo. He had brought a tiny hamster. Seeing me devastated, he whispered, “Do you… do you want to pet him?” That only made it worse. I wailed louder. He panicked. “Don’t cry! I didn’t mean to make it worse!” The whole class was staring. He looked terrified, like he’d committed a crime. “Please stop crying,” he pleaded. “If it helps… I’ll be your pet. Okay?” I sniffled. “For real?” He nodded solemnly. “For real.” “What kind of animal do you like?” I thought about my neighbor’s Golden Retriever—the way it always ran up to lick my hand. “A dog,” I said. “I like dogs.” Leo took a deep breath. “Fine. I’ll be your dog.” 2 Once I had my “dog,” I became insufferable. I’d tell everyone, “Look, this is my pet.” Leo would stand obediently behind me, head down, letting the other kids stare in shock. “That’s just a boy,” one kid mocked, holding up a turtle. “Is your dog as cute as my turtle?” I lost it. “Who cares about cute? Can your turtle bark? Does it understand English?” I took a piece of candy from my pocket, tossed it across the yard, and patted Leo’s shoulder. “Go get it, boy!” Leo’s ears turned bright red. He hesitated, then trotted over, picked up the candy, and placed it in my palm. “Good boy!” I ruffled his hair and smirked. The other kid looked like he was about to cry from envy. “Whatever,” he muttered. I wasn’t done. I gestured to the ground. “Sit!” Leo obeyed instantly, squatting next to my leg. He nudged his head against my hand and gave a soft, “Woof.” I unwrapped a chocolate and fed it to him. “Such a good boy.” Leo’s thin face flushed red. He took the chocolate and leaned against my leg, treating me like his entire world. The crowd was stunned. A dog that could talk? The turtles were suddenly trash. Leo was the perfect pet. He’d sit when told, and he’d even lick my hand if I told him to. Soon, other kids were approaching him, asking if he’d be their dog too. Leo, usually quiet, would look up from his notebook with a cold gaze. “Get lost,” he’d snap. My heart soared. He only had one owner. To reward him, I gave him all my snacks. “Since you took my snacks, you’re officially mine forever. No other owners.” He blushed, clutching the cookies. “Then you’re only allowed to have me,” he whispered shyly. “Deal!” I didn’t notice my cousin, Austin, standing by the door, looking absolutely horrified. 3 After school, Austin blocked my way. “Why do you give him all the snacks? I’m your cousin!” “Second cousin,” I reminded him. He didn’t care. He literally dropped to the sidewalk. “I want snacks too! It’s not fair!” “What do you want, Austin?” I groaned. He stood up, hands on his hips. “I want to be your dog too!” I couldn’t get rid of him, so I agreed. To earn his treats, Austin went full method. He found an old rope, tied it around his neck, and handed me the end. “Walk me to school tomorrow,” he commanded. At ten years old, I saw zero issues with this. I walked Austin the next morning. He was committed—crawling on all fours, sniffing the grass. I held the rope, trying to keep up. Passersby stared in absolute silence. I didn’t know what those stares meant yet. I just felt famous. When we arrived, a crowd gathered. “Another one?” a girl asked. “What about Leo? Are you dumping him?” I felt a pang of guilt. “No, Leo is still my dog.” Austin jumped up. “No! I’m the only one!” The kids cheered. What a loyal hound! I looked at Leo, who was standing nearby, looking hurt. “But I like Leo too…” Austin leaned in and whispered, “You don’t want your parents to know you’re ‘keeping pets’ at school, do you?” I froze. My germaphobe parents would kill me. “Please don’t tell them,” I begged. “Then tell me. Who’s the best dog in the world?” “You are.” “And who do you love the most?” “You, you, you!” Leo was never loud. He’d buy me sodas and rub my shoulders after gym class. All for a single piece of candy. Austin was a husky; Leo was a purebred. “So,” Austin grinned. “Who gets the snacks today?” “You,” I sighed, heartbroken. “All of them.” The crowd went silent. I turned around. Leo was standing there in his white polo, his eyes red and brimming with tears. “Are you replacing me?” he whispered. 4 The crowd gasped. I felt like a cheater. “You’re heartless!” a boy yelled. “You’re a bad person!” Soon, the hallway was packed with kids watching the drama. “I’m not replacing him!” I yelled. Austin barked, “Tell her, and I tell your parents!” Leo twisted his fingers, teary-eyed. “Mistress, please say something.” It was chaos. I wiped my forehead and pointed at both of them. “Fine! You both want to be my dog? We’re going to the track. Whoever runs the fastest stays!” Leo and Austin locked eyes. What happened next became legend. Even today, people in this town talk about the “Great Race.” It was a beautiful day for a dog walk. Leo and Austin had their leashes on. They were on all fours at the starting line. I held the leashes, and hundreds of students lined the sidelines. “The Dog Queen is holding tryouts!” someone shouted. A student even recorded it on a phone. I walked them to the start. The crowd chanted: “Dog Queen! Dog Queen!” I dropped the ropes. “Go!” Leo looked at me. “If I win, I’m your only one.” “Deal,” I said. He bolted. They both did. It was hot, so I went to the shop to get an ice cream and sat under a tree. After a while, I saw our teacher walking toward the track with a very elegant woman. “My Leo is so shy,” she was saying. “I worry he doesn’t express himself.” The teacher laughed. “No way! He’s leading a ‘pet competition’ right now.” The mother looked relieved. “Leo is so sensible. Not like the other wild kids.” Just then, a roar erupted from the track. The teacher and the mother turned just in time to see two figures fly past. Leo was in the lead, hands and feet blurring, running like a machine. The mother’s face turned white. Is that… my son? The teacher was speechless. “Nora Miller!” the teacher barked, spotting me. “What is the meaning of this?” I nearly dropped my ice cream. In the distance, Leo crossed the finish line. He sat on the grass, panting, looking for me. When he saw me, he lit up. He scrambled over on all fours, faster than a bullet. “Mistress!” he chirped happily. “I won! I’m your only dog!” Leo’s mom fainted right on the spot.

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I was thirty-seven when my husband had an affair. I married him right after college. Fifteen years, just like that. Everyone told me I had a life to be envied. My husband, Mark, was a high-flying corporate executive. At home, he covered every expense, every bill, a provider far better than most. It felt like a bitter pill I was supposed to swallow. 1 At first, I truly intended to. The girl looked like she was barely out of her teens, while Mark had just turned thirty-eight. Our son was already in high school. That was until she found me, her face a mess of tears, clutching the hem of her shirt and begging me to step aside. Her eyes were glistening, just like mine had been all those years ago, drunk on love. In the mirror, I saw myself—the lines around my mouth had deepened into something less joyful, and the dark circles from sleepless nights with a sick child were a permanent fixture. “Please,” she whispered, “I love him so much. I’m begging you, let us be happy.” I played along, my voice casual. “And what’s the plan after the divorce?” Her eyes lit up, a blush creeping up her cheeks. “We’re going to Iceland to see the Northern Lights, and then we’ll have a daughter. Mark always said he wanted a soft, sweet little girl to cuddle…” Mark wanted a daughter? He was the one who swore that our son and I were all he ever needed. He was the one who said he would never let me go through the pain of childbirth again. Promises, it seemed, just rotted away with time. My playful mood vanished. “I was kidding,” I said, my voice flat. “Mark and I have been married for fifteen years. Our careers, our finances, our entire lives are tangled together. We’re not getting divorced. Instead of fantasizing about the future, you should start thinking about your own.” When I got home, Mark was on the couch, laptop open, lost in his work. The years had been kind to him; the tailored suit only amplified his mature charm. He heard the door open but didn’t look up, his fingers still flying across the keyboard. This was our silent agreement, forged over years of practice. As long as I didn’t bring it up, he could pretend nothing was wrong. I tied on my apron and quickly whipped up dinner—three dishes and a soup. Mark closed his laptop and joined me at the table. “Alex said his school’s track meet is next week. He wants you to be there.” “Okay.” “Dad’s blood pressure is acting up again. We need to get him in for a check-up.” “You schedule it.” “The chandelier in the living room is flickering. Should I call someone to fix it?” “Whatever.” “Sophie came to see me today.” He finally looked up, his brow furrowed with impatience. “And?” His mistress confronts me, and all he can say is “And?” Even with all my years of practiced restraint, I felt my hand tighten around my chopsticks. “Mark, we’re married. You are cheating on me.” He slammed his own chopsticks on the table, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous growl. “Sarah, don’t make it sound so ugly. Sophie is young and naive. It’s nothing. Stop letting your imagination run wild.” Young? She was in her twenties. The man’s capacity for self-deception was laughable. The rest of the meal was tasteless. I thought we’d be locked in a cold war for a while. But the next day, I came home early from a business trip and found Sophie curled up on my sofa. She was wearing the new silk nightgown I’d just bought, her face tilted up as Mark fed her a strawberry. “Oh, Mark, the strawberries you feed me are so much sweeter!” “You’re such a little flirt,” he chuckled. “Have another.” The sight of that bright red berry made my throat tighten. I used to love strawberries, and he would feed them to me just like that, one by one. Now, that tenderness belonged to someone else. Sophie giggled, swinging a pair of long, pale legs. I saw Mark’s gaze darken as he pulled her into his arms. Just as their lips were about to meet, I pushed the door open. Sophie didn’t pull away. Instead, a defiant smirk played on her lips. “Well, hello again. I was just having some cramps, and Mark was comforting me. You’re not mad, are you?” She snuggled deeper into his embrace. I saw his Adam’s apple bob, a warning glint in his eyes. I, who had always been the picture of grace and composure, had no idea how to react. Should I launch myself at them like a madwoman? Should I scream and tear away his hypocritical mask? Neither seemed like it would change a thing. Maybe divorce was the only way out. Our shared assets over the years would be more than enough for Alex and me to start over. Maybe once I was free, I could rediscover the woman I’d lost. Maybe I, too, could have a second chance at life… At that thought, I set down my suitcase, looked Mark straight in the eye, and said, my voice quiet but unshakeable, “Let’s get a divorce.” 2 Mark refused. His reason? He hadn’t committed any “fundamental error.” Then he unleashed the hounds, calling in relatives and friends to talk me down. My in-laws, whom I had cared for over fifteen years, told me it wasn’t a physical affair, so why not just tolerate it? They even offered to convince Mark to sign over five percent of his company shares to me as a consolation prize. Our mutual friends warned me that the girl was just a gold-digger. If I left, I’d be handing her exactly what she wanted. Mark’s business was booming, his net worth climbing. Only a fool would walk away from that kind of wealth. My best friend, who was going through her own messy divorce, sighed and told me to reconsider. Her husband had also cheated, but he was broke and ugly. “Look,” she said, “any man with a pulse is going to cheat. At least Mark is rich.” It seemed money was the ultimate get-out-of-jail-free card, capable of absolving any sin committed within a marriage. I didn’t say a word. I just kept gathering the documents for the divorce. My father heard the news and stormed over. The moment he walked in, he slapped me across the face. His face was red with fury. “What man doesn’t have to entertain clients? So what if there’s a woman or two on the side? He’s been good to you for fifteen years, isn’t that enough? You have to blow everything up and end up a pathetic divorcée? You’re almost forty, Sarah! Who do you think is going to want you now?” He looked healthy and well-fed. Clearly, my stepmother was taking good care of him, and my new little brother was behaving. He had no time for his daughter’s trivial heartaches. The last person to try and change my mind was my son, Alex. When he came home from school, my first instinct was to hug him. He shoved me away. “Why do you have to divorce Dad?” I, who had stood my ground against everyone else, suddenly felt small. “Your father is with another woman, Alex. I can’t live with him anymore.” “You mean Sophie? Dad told me she’s just a friend.” He looked at me with an exasperated expression that was a perfect mirror of his father’s. “Mom, you’ve lived a life of luxury for half your life. Do you really think you can handle being on your own? Don’t come crying to me when you can’t.” Honestly, before he got home, I had held onto a sliver of hope that the child I had raised with my own two hands would, at the very least, give me a hug. I imagined he would storm up to his father, demanding to know why he had hurt me, and stand firmly by my side. Instead, he unleashed a torrent of anger at me, then stomped upstairs. BAM! The slam of his door was so violent it felt like it shook my soul. Sarah, how did your life come to this? That evening, while I was in the shower, Mark came into the bathroom for the first time in what felt like forever. It had been over a year since we’d last been intimate. He walked in, his eyes cold, but his hands moved with a familiar confidence, tracing paths across my skin. “Don’t be angry anymore, okay?” he murmured. “I’ll send her away tomorrow. You’ll never see her again.” A warmth spread over my skin, but a chilling frost was creeping into my heart. I closed my eyes, letting tears mingle with the hot water streaming down my face. “Mark.” “Hmm?” “Did you sleep with her?” Silence. The unspoken answer was enough. A wave of fury washed over me. “You are… absolutely disgusting.” His temper snapped. He shoved me away, hard. 3 A sharp pain shot through my ankle, but before I could even look, he grabbed my chin and dragged me in front of the mirror. “I’m disgusting? What about you? Aren’t you disgusting?” he snarled. “Look at yourself! Look at that butchered haircut—is there anything feminine about you? Look at your breasts, they’re sagging down to your stomach! And your face, covered in spots… it’s impossible to even look at you, let alone kiss you!” “Sarah, do you even look like a woman anymore?” He squeezed my breast cruelly, his eyes filled with icy contempt. “This is how we’ll live. I guarantee you a life of comfort and security. But if you divorce me, I swear, I will make your life a living hell.” Long after he had left, I was still trembling. I couldn’t believe the man I had loved for two decades could say such things. Or had he changed long ago, and I had simply been too blind to see it? I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms, a sharp, grounding pain. Mark, you think you have me trapped, don’t you? You think you can do whatever you want? Just you wait. This divorce is happening. The next morning, Mark had, for once, made breakfast. Alex was already eating, but he looked down as soon as he saw me, pointedly ignoring me. Mark played the peacemaker, coaxing our son. “Now, Alex, what did we talk about yesterday? We agreed we were going to forgive Mom.” Alex reluctantly muttered, “Morning, Mom.” “He was tired from the trip yesterday,” Mark said, his voice smooth as silk. “Come and eat. I made your favorite, club sandwiches.” He met my gaze across the table, a look of undisguised triumph in his eyes. I said nothing. A few minutes later, the doorbell rang. The housekeeper showed Sophie in. “Good morning, Mrs. Gordon. I’m just here to drop off a file for Mark.” They shook hands, a little too formally. Alex, seeing nothing wrong, actually invited Sophie to join them for breakfast. She hesitated for a moment before sliding into my seat at the table. As if to spite me, Alex pushed my plate in front of her. Then he poured her a glass of orange juice, my usual morning drink. Sophie, in turn, poured all her energy into charming Alex. “Oh, Alex, you’re so sweet! I was worried you’d be standoffish, like your mother…” “My mom’s just going through menopause,” Alex grumbled. “She’s paranoid, convinced you and Dad are having an affair. Just ignore her.” By the end of the meal, the two of them were acting like best friends. I had stopped listening the moment Alex called me paranoid. I walked out of the house. There was someone I needed to see. An old classmate I hadn’t seen in over a decade. My first love, and now, the city’s top litigator: Nathan. 4 In the quiet corner of a coffee shop, I laid out the whole story for Nathan. He just snorted. “And you’re really willing to let all that go?” He hadn’t changed a bit. Still the same prickly personality. If he’d been even a little bit gentler back then, I never would have broken up with him. I wasn’t in the mood to argue with him. I pulled a card from my purse. “I did my research. Your current rate is a million for a case like this. Here’s half a million upfront. The other half when it’s finalized. This is business, Nathan. No feelings involved.” Nathan picked up the card, toyed with it for a second, then slipped it into his pocket. “At your service, my wealthy client.” On the way back, he offered me a ride. While I’d been living a life of domestic bliss, his had been much harder. I’d heard his wife passed away from an illness a few years ago. They never had children. He’d poured everything into his work, rising to become one of the most formidable lawyers in the state. Nathan’s car was a flashy, ostentatious Maserati that roared to life. I couldn’t help but frown. “You’re not twenty anymore. Why are you still into such loud, flashy things?” I wondered how his late wife had ever put up with him. He just raised an eyebrow. “You used to love it, remember?” That shut me up. He was right. In my twenties, I’d been drawn to all things loud and shiny. But who has the energy for that when you’re pushing forty? I dropped the subject. After he dropped me off, I sent him another three hundred dollars. N: ? S: For the ride. N: Of course. Anything for my client. Despite the ridiculous car, Nathan gave me a masterclass in divorce preparation. Following his advice, I managed to get a clear picture of Mark’s finances. Then I hired a private investigator who quickly found the address of his little love nest. It was an apartment I’d bought before we were married. We lived there when we were dating and in the first few years of our marriage. We only moved into our current house after Alex was born and we needed space for a live-in nanny. I hadn’t been back in years. And Mark had hidden her there? I found the old key and went over on a day I knew they’d be out. Nothing inside had changed, except for the clutter of a new life. It was painfully obvious how badly Sophie wanted to marry Mark. Behind the sofa hung a portrait of the two of them. On the dining table sat a hand-crocheted doll she’d made. In the kitchen, a rich, fragrant soup simmered on low. It would have been a perfect picture of domestic bliss, if the pose in their portrait wasn’t an exact copy of one of ours. If the doll wasn’t my favorite orange-slice character. And if the soup wasn’t the special recipe I developed to soothe Mark’s chronic stomach issues. The recipe for that soup… I had only ever given it to one person: my mother-in-law. Which meant that besides me, she was the only one who knew it. And now, it was simmering in the home of Mark’s mistress. This cascade of betrayals made me wonder if I was such a failure that everyone in my life felt no hesitation in hurting me. Just as my emotions were churning into a maelstrom, the front door opened. Sophie burst in, beaming. She threw herself into Mark’s waiting arms. “It’s wonderful, Mark! I’m finally going to give you a daughter!” Mark stroked her face, his expression full of adoration. Then he looked up, and his eyes met mine.

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After my period went MIA for two solid months, my mom got it in her head that I was pregnant. So, she dragged me to the doctor. And who was sitting in the exam room? My ex-boyfriend, the one I’d dumped two months ago. His face was a blank mask, his voice colder than a morgue. “Get on the bed. Top up, pants down.” When I didn’t comply fast enough for his liking, he took matters into his own hands and started pulling my pants down himself. But the second the privacy curtain was drawn, he took off his glasses, leaned over me, and whispered, “We never went all the way. So why haven’t you had your period in two months?” 1 I never thought I’d run into my ex at my absolute lowest. To be fair, I should have seen it coming. When I saw the name ‘Dr. Cole Jacobs’ on the digital directory in the lobby, my brain short-circuited for a second. It can’t be… I clung to a sliver of hope. It’s a big city, lots of hospitals. Coincidences happen. But the moment I walked into the room and our eyes met, that hope died a swift and merciless death. He was impeccably dressed in a crisp, reassuring white coat. He had the title of Deputy Chief Physician at one of the top hospitals in the country. The hand holding the pen was elegant, with perfectly defined knuckles. Who else could it be? His tone was all business. “Ashley Price, is it? What seems to be the problem?” Great. It had only been two months, and he was already pretending he didn’t know me. Cold. Though, to be fair, the things I’d said when I broke up with him were a thousand times colder. My exact words were: “Cole Jacobs, after today, the only way you’ll ever see me again is if you’re on your deathbed, begging for one last look. And even then, I might not grace you with my presence.” Well, karma’s a bitch. Here we were, reunited in a hospital. Only the tables had turned. He was the doctor, and I was the patient, awaiting my sentence. And as for me “gracing him with my presence”? His appointments were so sought-after that I couldn’t get one. My mom had to resort to her superpower—money—and pay double the price to a scalper just to get me in. I’d overheard some girls in the waiting room gushing about how hot the doctor was, how the online reviews weren’t lying. They said you didn’t even need medicine; just getting his number was enough. His face was so devastatingly handsome it could make you want to live for another fifty years. At the time, I’d wondered if all guys with that name were that good-looking. I was curious to see for myself. And now I have. Devastatingly handsome, indeed. Except the devastation was all mine. 2 I’m usually quick with a comeback, but from the moment I stepped into that room, it was like my tongue had been possessed by a particularly stupid ghost. My mom, however, was completely oblivious to the undercurrent of tension between me and Cole. She launched into a loud, detailed account of my symptoms. “Dr. Jacobs, she hasn’t had her period in two months! It’s either pregnancy or some terrible disease. You have to give our Ashley a thorough check-up!” The sheer awkwardness of the situation was enough to build a new wonder of the world. “Of course, ma’am. We’ll take it one step at a time,” Cole said, his voice the epitome of calm professionalism. He had that perfect bedside manner that made patients feel completely at ease. But I saw it. As he lowered his head to write in my chart, I saw the words he was actually scrawling: “Patient possibly pregnant. Missed period. Not only moved on without missing a beat, but got knocked up by someone else in two months…” Hey, hey, is that last part really medically relevant? “Do you have a boyfriend?” It was a standard OB-GYN question, especially when it came to missed periods. Before I could open my mouth, my mom jumped in. “Oh, yes! And our Ashley and her boyfriend are just so in love. Practically inseparable!” “Have you taken a pregnancy test?” “Not yet! The second I found out she’d missed her period, I rushed her right over. It’s so hard to get an appointment these days,” my mom chirped. “I see.” On the surface, Cole’s expression was placid. But my danger senses were tingling, and I could see the knuckles of the hand gripping the ballpoint pen turning white. The tip of the pen was bent at a seventy-degree angle, pressing so hard it had torn through three layers of paper. Dude, that’s my medical chart, not your burn book! “So, is it likely she’s pregnant?” my mom asked, her voice filled with hopeful anticipation. I shot to my feet. “You know, I think I feel fine now! I actually feel like my period is about to start.” I knew Cole’s possessive streak. If I stayed in this room any longer, I was toast. But my mom shoved me back down into the chair. “What are you talking about, dear? This appointment was so hard to get! Now that we’re here, you need to tell the doctor everything that’s wrong.” I was on pins and needles, a nervous wreck. Cole finally adopted a more sympathetic tone. “With you here, ma’am, Ashley might be a little embarrassed to talk.” My mom had a lightbulb moment. “Oh, of course! What’s there to be shy about? I’ve seen it all,” she said as she walked out. Do you have any idea who this Dr. Jacobs really is? I wanted to scream. In bed, he’s a complete animal! He only looks like a saint. 3 If my life were a movie, it would be a disaster film, and this would be the long, slow-motion shot of my impending doom. As the clinic door clicked shut, it felt like a guillotine dropping. With the sole audience member—my mom—gone, Cole finally dropped the act. He put down the pen he hadn’t been using to write my chart. The cool, aloof doctor, with his smoldering eyes hidden behind silver-rimmed glasses, let out a cold laugh. “Well, well, Ashley. You’ve really outdone yourself. Who’s the father?” “It’s only been two months, and you’re already pregnant.” “That person who texted me was right. You really are a…” He stopped himself. “Forget it. From now on, we go our separate ways. You’re just a patient. It has nothing to do with me.” His voice was laced with ice. I was completely lost. What text? What was he talking about? Had Cole fallen for a phishing scam? As God is my witness, my heart belonged to Cole and Cole alone! Okay, so maybe I was a little wild before I met him. Our first meeting was hardly the stuff of romance novels. I’d just finished a hellish project for a client and decided to celebrate by hitting a male stripper club with some friends. But our GPS, in its infinite wisdom, led us to a classy, quiet cocktail bar instead. We didn’t bother checking the sign and just went in. The place had style, I’ll give it that. But my tastes are a little less… refined. After a quick scan of the menu, I ordered a Jägerbomb. As luck would have it, Cole was one of the bar’s investors and happened to be there that night. When he brought our drinks, he offered a friendly warning: “Mixing caffeine and alcohol isn’t a great idea. It can cause heart palpitations…” By then, my friends had already plied me with several rounds. I was seeing double. All I registered was a ridiculously hot guy standing in front of me. I grabbed his hand. “Whoa, the talent in this place is top-notch! How much for a night?” “Damn, look at these hands, these abs… premium quality.” I don’t remember much, but my friends later told me I didn’t just grope him; I tried to wrap my arms around his waist and kiss him. They were so mortified they wanted to crawl into a hole and pretend they didn’t know me. The next day, when I sobered up and learned of my transgressions, I was mortified too. But I couldn’t get his face out of my head. So, I shamelessly went back to the bar to “apologize,” which mostly consisted of me tugging on his sleeve and trying to get another look at his pecs. After I’d stalked him for ten days straight, Cole finally had enough. He cornered me in an alley behind the bar. “Ashley, are you here to apologize or to harass me?” I just giggled. “If you’re with me, no more male strippers,” he said, laying down his terms. “And no ogling other guys. Can you do that?” “Of course! From now on, my heart is all yours,” I vowed. Honestly, that night was the first and only time I’d ever considered going to a male stripper club. It was just a whim. But then I stumbled upon the man of my dreams, and I hadn’t looked at another guy since. I was the one who said the harsh words, but Cole was the one who initiated the breakup. His reason was: “I’m too busy with work at the hospital. I don’t have enough time for you. I don’t want to hold you back.” What a load of crap. Of course, I had to fire back with something equally cutting. I had to win the breakup. But now, he was accusing me of cheating, and it had something to do with a text message? There was definitely more to this story. 4 The reason I hadn’t tried to get Cole back these past two months was because I wanted my freedom. It wasn’t until after we started dating that he told me his real job was a doctor. The biggest problem with having a doctor for a boyfriend is the constant health policing. Other couples hold hands and sip iced milk tea on a hot day. Cole would stop me, explain how cold drinks on a hot day were a direct invasion of the lungs, and hand me a thermos of ginger-date tea instead. When I ordered takeout, I craved spicy, greasy things like Sichuan hot pot and barbecue skewers. He would calmly list all the ways those foods increased my risk of various diseases until I guiltily cancelled my order. So, when he broke up with me, as baffling as it was, a part of me was relieved. I was finally free to indulge in a paradise of fried chicken, late-night street food, ice-cold beer, and spicy crawfish. No more pinching my nose and choking down the “health tonics” he brought home from the hospital pharmacy. The harsh words were just a front, a way to keep him from coming back and finding me binge-watching shows at 3 a.m. with a pile of takeout containers. For the past two months, my social media has been a curated gallery of heartbreak. I posted angsty song lyrics, stuff like “How Could You Bear to Hurt Me” and “Thinking of You All Night.” But in reality, without his watchful eye, I was living my best, unhealthiest life. I’d tried every single pre-packaged meal from the convenience store near my apartment. I ate everything—icy, scalding, greasy—and stayed up until all hours. And now, here I was. My plan had been to eat my fill and then go crawling back to him. But of course, fate had other plans. Seriously, if I’d known I was going to run into my ex, I would not have worn my My Melody pajama set underneath my clothes. The cartoon rabbit’s big, innocent eyes were staring up from my chest, giving it a ridiculously comical look. I was going for a quirky vibe. But! Every time I saw Cole before, I dressed to kill. I wanted his eyes glued to me. Lace, ribbons, silk that clung to every curve, g-strings with pearl embellishments—you name it, I wore it. If he found out this was my actual taste in underwear, I would die of shame. 5 While I was having a full-blown panic attack, Cole’s voice cut through the air, cold and clinical. “Get on the bed. Top up, pants down.” I clutched my shirt, refusing to budge. “I’ve seen every inch of you. What’s there to be shy about?” When that didn’t work, he just reached for my clothes himself. No, you can’t! I squirmed like a worm on a hook. The commotion brought my mom back into the room. She saw me writhing on the exam table, trying to escape his grasp. “What is wrong with you?” she boomed. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of! To a doctor, there’s no such thing as male or female. He’s just trying to help you.” She rushed over and pinned me down. “Dr. Jacobs, please, just examine her.” “I want a different doctor!” I croaked. “This hospital is impossible to get into! I spent three days refreshing the app just to get this slot. You think we can just walk out?” my mom said, crushing my last hope. “Besides, didn’t you say you wanted to marry your boyfriend and live happily ever after? Do you want to drag this out and make him worry? He’s so busy, do you really want to add to his stress? Don’t you love him?” In my mind, Cole and I were on a break, so I hadn’t told my mom we’d “broken up.” The beautiful future she was describing was the one I’d imagined with him. These vows of a life together, so touching and sweet, were now turning the air sour. The more she talked, the darker both our faces became. He thought she was talking about the guy who’d supposedly knocked me up. And I was getting a headache just thinking about how I was going to explain this whole mess to him. Suddenly, a jarring ringtone shattered the tension: “We should break up with dignity…” It was Cole’s phone. His ringtone was that one line, on repeat. Wow, talk about holding a grudge. If he was really over it, would he still have that as his ringtone? He silenced the call without a word. In that brief moment, I caught a glimpse of his phone screen. His wallpaper was still a photo of us. Except it was in black and white. Was he mourning our dead relationship? It hit me then. The breakup, for him, was real. 6 My Melody pajamas didn’t seem so important anymore. Just then, Cole finally cut my mom off. “We’re about to begin the examination. I’ll have to ask you to step outside, ma’am.” Seeing that I had finally resigned myself to my fate, my mom gave me a few stern warnings, drew the privacy curtain, and went out to wait. As my shirt was slowly lifted, My Melody’s big, innocent eyes popped into view. I am a C-cup, for the record. Cole barely glanced at them. “Your new boyfriend has terrible taste.” With my mom gone, I seized the opportunity. “He’s not my new boyfriend! There’s no one else. It’s only ever been you!” Cole just snorted and ignored me. He squeezed a cold gel onto my stomach, and the transducer glided across my skin. My mouth was the only part of me that could move, so I decided to play the nostalgia card. “Cole, maybe it is your baby. I’ve missed two periods.” “And the timing fits, right? That night we were together…” “Is that so?” There was no warmth in his eyes. “As I recall, we didn’t go all the way that night.” The doctor in the white coat suddenly leaned in close, his lips brushing my ear. His warm breath sent shivers down my spine. My stupid heart started pounding. He was so close. It felt like he was flirting. Was he going to… right here? A montage of R-rated scenes flashed through my mind.

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