After blocking him, he sent me my IP address with a straight face.
“You’re at Lancaster University too?”
“You better pray I don’t catch you.”
“Or else, I’m going to f*ck you up.”
01
Reading these three anonymous messages, I was shivering in my English Literature class.
Because the victim, the academic god Silas Vance, was sitting right in front of me.
He looked focused, seemingly listening to the lecture, but in reality, the pen in his hand was about to snap.
I could tell he was furious.
He had been contacting me from different numbers for days. I ignored them all.
So he resorted to crawling the web and digging out my IP address.
Doomed. Silas Vance wants to “f*ck me up”?
How exactly?
I looked at his biceps, clearly sculpted from frequent gym sessions. Even under his loose sportswear, the muscle definition was visible.
One punch, and I’d be in pieces, right?
I sat on pins and needles for the entire class.
As soon as class ended, I sprinted back to the dorm.
The first thing I did was shut down my computer.
After that day, I didn’t dare turn on my computer to play games for a whole month.
02
My feud with Silas Vance started two months ago.
Silas was the perfect student, beating me in every competition.
This year, sophomore year, I missed out on the scholarship again.
Because Silas participated in the university’s computer software competition and got an A-grade award.
Everyone in that competition was a genius, mostly grad students.
I heard Silas’s aunt was the dean. Who knows what strings were pulled to get him into that team.
Wasn’t this blatant nepotism?
I was indignant.
Just then, my childhood friend failed a class and came crying to me, begging me to write his paper.
“Come on, isn’t Lancaster full of talent? Writing a paper is nothing to you. Just help me this once, I’ll give you five thousand bucks, and I’ll call you Daddy forever.”
“I’m a Law major, you’re Computer Science. What do I know about…”
Suddenly, I paused.
Didn’t Silas minor in Law?
Immediately, I agreed to my friend’s request.
Not for the five thousand bucks.
Mainly because I wanted a new son.
That night, I registered a burner account and started my journey of flirting.
I sent Silas a picture of a girl with a great body I found online.
[Me: Hey handsome, wanna hang out?]
Not long after, he replied.
[Him: I like men.]
Me: ?
Then I saw the red exclamation mark.
Blocked?
Damn, bad start.
Frustrated, I registered another burner account using my dad’s number.
This time I was more cautious.
I liked his tweets every day, commented occasionally.
Until one day, he replied, asking if I was also into programming.
I knew my chance had come.
I pretended to be a straight guy, saying I was a Law major just interested in CS.
Gradually, we chatted more and more.
One ambiguous night.
I “accidentally” sent him a mirror selfie, just showing my waist.
Everyone who saw my waist praised it. Slim, curvy, and fair skin.
[Me: God Silas, I lost so much weight recently.]
[Him: What happened?]
[Me: Can’t write my paper. Professor said if I don’t submit, I’ll fail again. It’s too hard (crying emoji)]
“Typing…” appeared for a long time.
[Me: Gotta go, might not have time to chat recently.]
He replied instantlyā
[Him: Wait. I’ll help you. Send me the topic.]
In the dark dorm room, I laughed maniacally under my covers.
God Silas, just wait until I play you like a dog.
…
I promised Silas that if he helped me finish, we would meet up, and I might even date him.
He was hooked, saying good morning and good night every day.
Later, Silas sent me the completed paper in less than a week.
Low plagiarism rate, clearly written with care.
I thanked him.
[Victim #1: When do we meet? Sunday works? Weather is nice.]
[Victim #1: Is your waist really that slim? Feels like one hand could hold it.]
[Victim #1: Can I see other photos?]
[Victim #1: Why aren’t you replying? Did I offend you?]
Just as Silas sent the apology.
The next second, he received the notification that he was blocked.
I could imagine the look of shock on his face.
So satisfying.
03
My friend’s five thousand hit my account.
I immediately bought a new pair of Jordans.
Went to the basketball court, and of course, ran into Silas Vance.
I was changing in the locker room.
Shirt off.
I thought the footsteps behind me were my teammates.
“Who are we playing next? I don’t want to play forward anymore.”
The person behind didn’t speak.
I turned around and saw Silas staring at my waist.
I jumped, quickly covering my upper body with my jersey.
“What are you doing?”
Silas looked away.
“Sorry. You were blocking my locker.”
I felt guilty, quickly putting on my jersey and leaving.
To avoid Silas recognizing the online pic, I had sent a picture of my slim waist.
Did he recognize it?
But I used a filter on that photo. Judging by his reaction, he probably didn’t.
Walked onto the court.
Didn’t expect my friends had called Silas and his crew to play.
I stared at Silas’s tall figure.
Damn, how do I win against that?
The whistle blew.
I played uneasily.
Thought I’d lose miserably, but Silas wasn’t that good.
I dunked on him several times.
Just now, in a face-off, I almost fell, and he gentlemanly held my waist.
I scored a three-pointer and won the game.
I actually beat Silas Vance for once?
So satisfying.
I lifted my shirt to wipe the sweat from my forehead.
Silas was drinking water, but his gaze drifted over.
I quickly put my shirt down.
After the game, Silas asked if we wanted to grab dinner together.
I said I was busy and slipped away.
04
Even though we were in the same class, I didn’t interact much with Silas.
Half a month passed, and Silas hadn’t found me.
Must have let it go, right?
After all, Lancaster U is huge. How could he pinpoint me?
School anniversary, holiday.
I signed up for a hiking trip with my club, three days and two nights.
I arrived late at the meeting point.
Everyone had already been assigned rooms at the hotel.
The club president pointed to a guy on the corner sofa: “There. You sleep with him tonight.”
I looked over and met Silas’s deep eyes.
I paused, shaking my head frantically.
“President, are there any other rooms?”
“No. Others are couples or girl groups. The only single guy left is Silas. You’re both guys, no problem.”
Huge problem, okay?
I was terrified he’d see my body.
After dinner, the president organized some interactive games to break the ice.
I deliberately sat far away from Silas.
I sat next to the president, Ethan.
Ethan was very gentle, taking care of everyone. Seeing me lose too much, he even took the penalties for me.
Across the crowd.
I locked eyes with Silas from afar.
He was quietly drinking orange juice, his gaze like a dormant wolf.
At the time, I didn’t understand why he kept staring at me.
At night, back in the room.
He closed the door and locked it.
I came out of the shower to find him standing right outside the bathroom door.
I was startled, tried to step around him.
But he blocked the door, his gaze sweeping over my bathrobe at the waist.
“Do you know Chuck?”
“Huh? Who’s that?”
I pretended to be calm, but was panicking inside.
Chuck was my childhood friend.
Silas stepped closer.
“Lucas, stop pretending.
“Or should I call you… Li Yue?”
“……”
Li Yue was the fake name I used when catfishing him.
Doomed.
I stepped back, slipped on the water.
Silas caught me.
His eyes were deep, teeth gritted.
“It really is slim. I thought the mole on your waist looked familiar last time.
“Lucas, was it fun playing me? Do you know how I spent this past month?
“Remember what I said? What happens if I catch you?”
I swallowed hard.
“Didn’t you say you’d f*ck me up? Come on then if you dare.”
He sneered: “Don’t cry later.”
I clenched my fists, ready.
When it comes to fighting, I’ve never been afraid.
But Silas suddenly stepped forward and locked the bathroom door.
Grabbed a bottle of body wash.
?
š Continue the story here
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š search for “389529”, and watch the full series āØ!
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At twenty, I knitted my first scarf and gave it to my secret crush, Seraphina Sinclair.
At her birthday party, amid mocking gazes, she accepted it.
Three days after my sisterās death, I went to the university to withdraw.
In the admin office, I overheard people sorting through files.
āAre you really throwing out that scarf from hick Asher?ā
āThis thing? Itās not even as nice as the designer coat Wyatt gave her. A hotel towel is probably better. Just toss it.ā
āIf Iād known she didnāt want her lapdogās gift, Iād have used it as a foot rag. What a waste of all that knitting.ā
Wyatt. Her childhood sweetheart.
Seraphina laughed, balled up the scarf, and tossed it toward the other girl.
It missed, landing beside the trash can ā a pitiful sight.
Our eyes met briefly. I said nothing, just picked up my papers and left.
I knew I had no right to question her.
Six years later, back in Northgate, I heard a rumor:
Seraphina Sinclair, the cityās most famous heiress, had a long-lost love whoād been missing for years.
1
I came back to Northgate to expand my clothing brand.
On opening day, a familiar face walked into the new boutique.
“Asher?”
I was straightening clothes on a rack. It had been years since I’d used that name. The sound of it made me freeze for a moment.
When I turned, I was met with a pair of wide, shocked eyes. The woman in front of me looked vaguely familiar, her features sharp and elegant, her clothes tailored from expensive fabric. But I couldn’t place her.
I offered an awkward smile. “I’m sorry, you are?”
She subconsciously scratched her head. That gesture instantly brought it all back.
Sienna.
One of Seraphina’s friends. The same girl from the office six years ago who wanted to use my scarf as a foot rag.
A young man stood beside her, his arm linked with hers. He was tall, slender, and had a warm smile.
We sat in the VIP lounge. While her boyfriend was in the fitting room, Sienna looked around my store.
“You… you own this place? This brand has been blowing up lately. I can’t believe you’re the one behind it…”
A flicker of embarrassment crossed her face as a memory surfaced. “The things I said back then… I was just joking. Please don’t take it to heart. I’ve actually wanted to apologize for years, but I couldn’t find you.”
“Where have you been all this time? Why did you just drop out of university like that? Not a single word…” Her voice trailed off, growing quieter.
I calmly took a fruit platter from a server and placed it on the table. “I didn’t go anywhere special. Just went back to my hometown for a while.”
Back to my hometown, where I changed my name and restarted my life.
She was about to ask more when her boyfriend came out of the fitting room. The clothes fit him perfectly, and he was so pleased that he bought several other styles on the spot.
“You know,” he said thoughtfully, “your autumn/winter collection is a bit incomplete. Other stores usually cross-promote with matching hats, brooches, shoes, and scarves.”
“I noticed when I was trying things on that you don’t have any matching scarves. I think that’s something you could improve on.”
I explained gently, “We aren’t planning to add scarves to our line just yet. I’m sorry about that. As a courtesy, I can give you thirty percent off your purchase…”
As they were leaving, Sienna spoke up hesitantly. “You know, all these years, Seraphina has been…”
A loud crash of metal echoed through the store.
I turned to see a half-installed clothing rack topple over. I sighed, rubbing my forehead. Great, now I have to put it up all over again.
Sienna was still talking. I gave her a rushed nod and turned to instruct an employee to handle the mess.
Her face lit up, and she quickly pressed an invitation into my hand.
“Then it’s settled! It’s Seraphina’s birthday tomorrow. You have to come!”
Before I could refuse, she hurried away, giving me no chance to back out.
My business partner, Penny, stretched as she came out from the back. “What was that noise? It woke me up. What’s this… Seraphina Sinclair?”
Her eyes were glued to the invitation in my hand. Her arms, frozen mid-stretch, forgot to come down as she gasped out the name.
I was a little confused. “You know her?”
Penny nodded vigorously, her sleep-deprived eyes suddenly shining. “Of course! The Seraphina Sinclair? I saw her at a fashion show a while back.”
“She was sitting in the front row, so tall and gorgeous. She took over her family’s company right out of college, and under her leadership, their profits have skyrocketed…”
“Wait, is that a birthday invitation? How did you get that?”
“Sienna gave it to me,” I said flatly.
At that, Penny’s eyes filled with a new level of awe.
2
“Sienna?! Oh my god, Cade, how many powerful people do you know that I don’t?”
“First Sienna, now Seraphina… but…” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “I heard Seraphina has someone she loves.”
“But he disappeared, and she’s been searching for him for years, turning the city upside down. I remember hearing his last name was… Grant. What a coincidence, Cade, your original last name was Grant too!”
I dropped my gaze, cutting off her fantasy. “Don’t get any ideas. There are a lot of people with that name.”
“So, are you going to her birthday party tomorrow?”
“No.”
She looked disappointed but seemed more fascinated by my connections.
A chilly autumn wind rustled, sending fallen leaves skittering across the pavement. I pulled my coat tighter, my hand instinctively going to my neck, which suddenly felt cold.
Under Penny’s relentless questioning, I finally unsealed the past I had deliberately buried deep in my heart.
“I had a crush on Seraphina Sinclair. Back when I was a boy.”
“It was a complete and utter failure.”
On the first day of university, during introductions, student after student went on stage, confidently sharing their hobbies and dreams.
When my turn came, I felt a wave of shame.
My family was poor. My mother died in childbirth. My father raised us alone. When I was a sophomore in high school, he was diagnosed with cancer. My older sister, Clara, dropped out of school to work and pay for his treatment, but the mountain of medical bills was still crushing us.
When I stepped on stage, my palms were sweating. My stammering introduction made the other students laugh.
“Where did this hick come from? Is he actually wearing a floral shirt? That’s so out of style. Hasn’t he ever heard of fashion?”
“I saw him on move-in day. His family seemed really poor. Two of the wheels on his suitcase were broken, but he couldn’t even afford a new one…”
“He can’t even introduce himself properly. Get him off the stage already, he’s wasting our time!”
I stood there helplessly, clutching the hem of my shirt, my face burning. My dad and sister had taken me shopping for this shirt before I left for school. I told them it was too expensive, but my dad just smiled and paid. “Don’t worry about the money. Wear something nice on your first day. Make a good impression.”
It wasn’t cheapāalmost two hundred dollars, half of my living expenses for a month.
Humiliated, I turned to leave the stage when a clear voice cut through the chatter.
“Who said it’s ugly? I think it looks good.”
Everyone fell silent. I followed the voice and saw her. Seraphina Sinclair, leaning back in her chair with a lazy confidence, chewing gum. As she spoke, her eyes were fixed on me.
In that moment, the world seemed to fade to grey. All I could see were her bright eyes and the slight smile on her lips.
Penny nodded thoughtfully, shaking my arm with excitement. “So that’s when you started crushing on her? A beautiful girl defending you when you were in trouble… I would’ve fallen for her too.”
I took a calm sip of tea.
Actually, no.
My real connection with Seraphina began during winter break. I was working at a car wash to earn tuition money when the sound of an argument grew louder. A car screeched to a halt in front of the shop.
A meticulously wrapped bouquet of flowers was thrown from the window, landing squarely on my head as I bent over to adjust a machine.
“Seraphina, what’s with the attitude? I came back to make things right with you, and this is how you treat me?”
Seraphina’s dismissive laugh floated out. “Wyatt, I picked you up from the airport so your parents wouldn’t lose face. What makes you think I was waiting for you to come back?”
“We promised we’d go to an Ivy League school together, but you left for Europe without a word. You have the right to chase your dreams, so don’t I have the right to chase love?”
Wyatt scoffed. “Love? Don’t tell me the great Seraphina Sinclair has fallen for someone else.”
Seraphina turned her head, and her gaze met mine as I rubbed my sore head.
She smiled suddenly. “You thought I couldn’t live without you?”
“Wyatt, let me tell you something. From now on, I can be with anyone but you.”
With that, she got out of the car, pulled a black velvet box from her pocket, and tossed it to me. “It’s yours.”
Wyatt was so angry he was on the verge of tears. “The little brother washing cars on the side of the road? Him too?”
Seraphina’s reply was flippant. “Yes.”
Wyatt got out of the car, his eyes red, and disappeared into the crowded street. He didn’t look back, so he didn’t see Seraphina’s gaze linger on his retreating back.
From that day on, I became Seraphina’s little follower.
She was paying me to be part of her act. As long as I played my part well, the money was good.
3
I agreed. I became the tool she used to provoke Wyatt.
I spent almost the entire winter break with her. At parties, she would gently wipe the beer foam from my lips. When she lost at truth or dare, she would laugh and take the penalty drink for me, declaring that no one was allowed to bully me. On snowy nights, she would walk me home, her umbrella tilted toward me even as snowflakes collected on her own shoulders.
When I caught a cold, she took me to the clinic, registered me, and stayed with me while I got an IV drip. Watching her rush around, something in my heart stirred. There were moments when I almost believed she really was my girlfriend.
One evening, at a fancy restaurant, she mimicked a couple at the next table. “I want a scarf that you knit yourself,” she said.
Her tone was casual, but I took it to heart.
I started secretly gathering materials. I was clumsy, knitting and unraveling, unraveling and knitting, until parts of the yarn lost their elasticity and the stitches became crooked.
At first, Wyatt didn’t care. He couldn’t believe Seraphina would actually fall for someone like meāordinary, plain, completely unremarkable. But as the break wore on and she continued to ignore him, he started to panic.
At a bar, her friends started jokingly calling me her boyfriend. Seraphina casually pulled down the collar of her shirt, revealing a temporary tattoo on her collarbone: the initials of my name. Everyone gasped, saying she had finally fallen for real.
In that moment, something in Wyatt snapped. He grabbed a beer bottle and smashed it over my head, the butterfly tattoo on his wrist trembling. “Asher Grant, who the hell do you think you are? You think a poor kid from the sticks is worthy of stealing her from me?”
Crimson blood trickled down from my eyebrow into my eye, turning my vision red. But I could still see her clearly. Seraphina, a faint smile on her lips, her eyes locked on Wyatt. She was desperately trying to hide the pain in her eyes. This was what she wanted: for Wyatt to feel regret, to go mad, to lose his mind completely.
Just as Wyatt was about to break, Seraphina finally dropped her act. She pulled him into a fierce embrace, her lips finding his in a restrained, desperate kiss. “It was a temporary tattoo, you idiot. Did you really believe it?”
No one cared about me, the guy with a head full of blood. The same people who had been calling me her boyfriend were now cheering for their love. I quietly slipped away with the other rich kids, leaving them their space.
After getting my head stitched up, I buried the half-finished scarf in the deepest part of my closet.
Seraphina didn’t contact me for the rest of the semester. She had probably forgotten I even existed. She and Wyatt seemed to be getting closer. Sometimes in class, I would see her on a video call with him. The way she looked at him was always so gentle. Because of the time difference, he was usually in bed, looking like a lazy, noble cat. For some reason, my heart ached.
I remembered a time we were lying on the grass, looking at the stars, and she suddenly said, out of nowhere, “I wish it could always be like this.”
I was confused. “Like what?”
She went quiet, and after a long moment, she just shook her head and said it was nothing.
Later, my dad’s medical bills became urgent. My sister’s advanced salary wasn’t enough to cover everything. Desperate, I remembered that Seraphina still owed me my final payment. So I worked up the courage to find her at her usual bar.
She seemed to be fighting with Wyatt again. She was shrouded in darkness, the air around her chillingly cold. She told me she needed me to play a part one last time.
So I did. I staged my own kidnapping.
The media reported on Seraphina’s dramatic rescue, her deep affection and concern for me plain for all to see. She had successfully provoked Wyatt again. And I got the money to pay my dad’s medical bills.
Two weeks later, she handed me a birthday invitation. I took it, my mind racing, trying to figure out what kind of gift to get her. She seemed to have everything. I couldn’t afford anything expensive, and she would look down on anything cheap. My gaze eventually fell on the unfinished scarf.
When I presented it to her at her birthday party, the room fell silent, then erupted in jeers.
Seraphina didn’t laugh.
I started to withdraw my hand in embarrassment, but she grabbed my wrist. “Thank you. It’s beautiful. I love it.”
It wasn’t until much later that I realized this was probably just another performance for Wyatt’s benefit.
The next day, it was pouring rain. Amidst the claps of thunder, I received a phone call.
“Is this Asher Grant? Is Clara Grant your sister? There was an accident at the construction site. She was gone by the time she got to the hospital. We need a family member to come sign the papers…”
The foreman said her safety rope wasn’t secured properly during high-altitude work.
I didn’t believe it. My sister was never that careless. I tried to ask for more details, but the construction company paid out fifty thousand dollars and closed the case.
I held the money, feeling numb, the tears not yet coming. At the same time, my dad found out about my sister. At the hospital, he hesitated for a long time before his voice trembled. “The doctor said it’s terminal. The medicine isn’t working anymore. Asher, I’m done with treatment.”
I refused, insisting he stay. But he started packing his things and walked out without looking back. At the hospital entrance, I fell to my knees, blocking his path. “Dad, I’m begging you, please get treatment! You’re all I have left! I’ll pay for it, no matter the cost! I’ll drop out of school, I’ll work, I’ll get the money!”
“Clara is gone! I don’t want to live without you, don’t you understand?”
“I’m begging you, on my knees!”
Passersby stopped to watch, shaking their heads with pity. In a hospital, scenes like this were a daily occurrence, nothing out of the ordinary.
Three days after handling my sister’s funeral, I went to the university to withdraw.
And that’s when I overheard Seraphina talking about throwing away my pathetic scarf.
Penny gasped. “How could that happen…”
The wind chimes at the entrance jingled as a cold draft swept in. I fell silent, discreetly wiping a tear from the corner of my eye.
Before I could say “welcome,” a pair of rain-splattered high heels entered my line of sight.
“Asher… is it really you?”
š Continue the story here
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After discovering my rich boyfriend was a serial cheater addicted to online dating, I didn’t cry. Instead, I registered nine fake accounts and catfished him as nine different “dream girls.”
My best friend screamed, “You are such a simp! Youāre going to get played!”
But on Valentine’s Day, I received ten different luxury gifts.
She looked at the pile of designer boxes and gave me a thumbs up.
“Youāre not a simp. Youāre a CEO.”
1.
On Valentine’s Day, my best friend Chloe and I hauled ten packages back from the mailroom.
I opened the first one addressed to my real name, Harper. It was a lipstick set. Maybe a hundred bucks, tops.
Chloe shoved her phone in my face, sneering. “See that? To Caleb, youāre worth a trip to Sephora.”
I smiled, didn’t say a word, and kept opening boxes.
“Harper, seriously,” she groaned. “You need to touch grass. Dump him!”
I opened the second box. Chloeās jaw dropped. “Whoa, who sent that? Thatās heavy.”
I stayed silent and kept ripping open packaging.
By the time I was done, the floor was covered in loot: A Chanel classic flap bag, a Van Cleef & Arpels bracelet, a Cartier ring, gold bars…
Chloeās eyes were the size of dinner plates. “Caleb sent… all of these?”
2.
Caleb is my boyfriend.
We met online. Heās a trust fund baby, a bona fide rich kid.
Initially, I was attracted to his money. He was attracted to my voice.
Before we even met in person, I mentioned my phone battery was dying. Caleb overnighted me the newest iPhone. My cat spilled water on my laptop; a MacBook Pro arrived the next day.
Eventually, love-brain took over. Caleb flew to Los Angeles, bought a condo, and we moved in together. He convinced me to quit my 9-to-5.
He gave me a $2,000 monthly allowance and showered me with surprises.
I lived a life I used to only see on Instagram. I swapped my Old Navy flip-flops for Jordans and Jimmy Choos. I used La Mer on my ankles. I wouldn’t touch a bag unless it cost four figures.
Dripping in gold, living the dream. Everyone said I was the main character in a romance novel.
After all, Caleb was rich, handsome, and had abs.
But six months in, I caught him sexting other girls.
I cried in Chloeās arms for three hours. She begged me to dump him. I couldn’t do it.
Who in their right mind breaks up with an ATM?
The next day, I registered nine burner accounts on Instagram and Snapchat. I created personas: The Texas Cowgirl who loves BBQ and trucks, the E-Girl obsessed with anime and cosplay, the NYC Intellectual who quotes Nietzsche, the struggling LA Actress…
Chloe called me pathetic. I ignored her and added Caleb on every account.
When I went back to the condo, pretending I knew nothing, Caleb told me his mom was sick and he had to fly back to the East Coast for a month.
I nodded like a good girlfriend. “I’ll pack some gifts for your mom.”
Caleb was so touched he Venmoād me $10,000 on the spot.
“Buy whatever you want while I’m gone,” he said, looking guilty.
I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing.
Ten grand? Sweetie, Iām just getting started.
After Caleb left, I juggled ten personalities. I kept a spreadsheet: which persona talked about what, which address to send gifts to, what their “love language” was.
My acting was Oscar-worthy. My typing speed was god-tier.
By the time Valentine’s Day rolled around, I had manipulated Caleb into sending ten separate gifts.
Was it a lot of work? No. It was billable hours.
Chloe looked at the haul and saluted me. “You are my hero.”
3.
Ten burner phones were lined up on the coffee table.
I picked up the “Texas Cowgirl” phone and sent a voice note with a thick accent: “Got the gift, cowboy. When are we gettin’ ribs?”
Then the “NYC Intellectual” phone: “Received. Adequate. I expect better effort next time.”
Then the “E-Girl” phone: “Omg thank you Daddy for the cosplay fit! uwu.”
…
Chloe watched the operation in stunned silence. “You are terrifying.”
She asked what I planned to do with the loot.
I kept the lipstick. The rest went straight to The RealReal and Poshmark.
The notifications of cash deposits were music to my ears. My savings account was hitting $60,000.
Just a little longer, and I could buy my own place.
Just as I was celebrating, Caleb texted. He was coming back.
I couldn’t be in the same room with him; I had nine other boyfriends to manage.
So, I booked tickets to Cabo for Chloe and me. I sent Caleb a voice note sounding heartbroken: “Babe, I’m so sorry. Chloe just went through a brutal breakup. Iām taking her to Mexico to cheer her up.”
Caleb texted back: “I’ll come too! I’ll carry your bags.”
Stay away, you clingy cheater.
I replied patiently: “I don’t think that’s a good idea. She’s really fragile right now. Seeing us so happy and in love would just crush her.”
After some back and forth, Caleb finally agreed. To compensate me, he transferred another $15,000. “Have fun, babe. I got you VIP tickets to that festival you wanted.”
If my nine other phones weren’t buzzing with his “I miss you” texts, I might have actually believed he loved me.
We partied in Cabo for a week. I worked remotely as a customer service rep for his love life.
When we flew back to LA, Caleb picked us up in his new G-Wagon.
I pinched Chloe until she started crying.
“See?” I whispered to Caleb. “She’s a wreck.”
In the car, I pretended my phone died and used Calebās phone to navigate. I quickly checked his archived chats.
Good. He had deleted the conversations with my nine alter egos.
That night, while Caleb showered, I executed the plan. I used the nine phones to text him. Nine messages, staggered two minutes apart.
When he came out, I pointed at his phone on the coffee table. “Babe, your phone is blowing up. Is it an emergency?”
Caleb looked panicked. He grabbed the phone, turned his back to me, and checked. “Nothing. Just spam. Group chats.”
“Oh,” I said, giving him a knowing look.
He sat down and wrapped his arm around me. “I felt bad about missing Valentine’s Day. I want to make it up to you.”
Caleb, the guilt-ridden liar, went all out.
He took me to the most expensive sushi place in Nobu, rented a private yacht for sunset, and set up a romantic proposal scene.
Proposal?
Bro, are you serious?
What is this plot twist?
4.
I excused myself to the bathroom and called Caleb’s mom. “Mrs. Sterling, your son is proposing. What do I do?”
Mrs. Sterlingās voice was calm. “Say yes.”
I hung up, looked in the mirror, and hyped myself up.
Fine. Itās just a ring.
Hereās the backstory: While I was in Cabo, Mrs. Sterling contacted me.
She knew everything. She knew about the nine accounts. Instead of threatening to sue me or send me to jail, she offered me a deal. She wanted me to teach her sonāwho was addicted to online romancesāa lesson.
The reward? A villa in the Hollywood Hills. Title in my name.
“Why should I trust you?” I had asked.
“Because you’re the longest relationship he’s ever had,” she said. “You don’t ask questions as long as the money clears. You’re pragmatic. I like that.”
So, Mrs. Sterling and I became partners.
Caleb was a hopeless romantic with a wandering eye. I was his tenth “real” girlfriend, but the only one who stuck around because I treated him like a job.
With his momās blessing, I walked out and said yes.
The diamond was huge.
I posted it on Instagram immediately. Chloe called me screaming.
“He’s trash! I support scamming him, but marriage? You’re ruining your life!”
“Who stays married forever these days anyway?”
“Harper… you can’t tie yourself to a sinking ship.”
“You’re thinking too small,” I whispered. “To a gold digger like me, Caleb isn’t a man. He’s a golden goose.”
Two days later, I took Chloe to a commercial space under renovation on Melrose Avenue.
“Pick a spot. What do we want to put here?”
Chloe looked confused. “You’re acting like you own the place.”
I pulled the deed out of my bag.
Chloeās scream shattered glass. “Caleb bought you a storefront?!”
“Not just bought,” I corrected. “Fully funded operational costs.”
“How… how did you do that?”
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At twenty-five, I saved Sean Vanceās life and became a vegetable.
Sean worked himself to the bone, day and night, to cover the staggering medical bills that kept me alive in a private ICU.
When I woke up seven years later, the world had been turned upside down.
Terrified and disoriented, I waited for Sean to come and take me home.
But when I saw him again, my young lover had fine lines etched around his eyes.
He knelt before my wheelchair, holding another girlās hand.
And begged me to set him free.
ā¦
When I first woke up, the hospital was full of strangers. The world had moved on for seven years, and I was terrified. I kept calling Seanās name, my voice a slurred whisper.
My caregiver tried to comfort me.
“I’ve never seen a more devoted man than your boyfriend,” she said.
“The nurses told me that on the night you were brought in, you were covered in blood. Your boyfriend held you and just sobbed his heart out.”
“He swore he’d get you the best treatment, no matter the cost. And those astronomical bills? He’s never missed a single payment.”
“In the beginning, he was here every day, washing you, talking to you.”
“He must be incredibly busy now, that’s why he comes less often.”
“But he still has me send him a picture of you every single day.”
Hearing this, the panic Iād felt when I first saw my atrophied muscles and the scars that littered my body seemed to fade, just a little.
Sean finally appeared two weeks after I woke up. He stood taller, his features sharper and more mature than the boy in my memory.
His hands inexpertly wiped away my tears, his voice filled with a bittersweet nostalgia. “You’re awake.”
I learned that for my sake, Sean had worked himself half to death, drinking so much at business dinners that heād ended up with a perforated stomach. Heād heard about advanced medical technology overseas and flew back and forth constantly. Heād humbled himself, bowing and begging strangers, just to find better treatment options for me.
For him, I gritted my teeth and forced myself to stand. The pain of physical therapy was excruciating, but I never made a sound. I hated that I couldn’t get better faster.
It went on until my doctor, his face stern, finally put a stop to it. He turned on Sean, who had rushed to the hospital.
“What kind of family member are you?! You can’t rush rehabilitation like this!”
Sean stood to the side, his expression unreadable.
When I tentatively reached for him, he flinched away.
Then he exploded, a stranger in a familiar body.
“Clara Hale, I’ve spent almost twenty million dollars on you! When you first had the accident, I couldn’t sleep for nights on end. Can you please, for once, stop making me worry?”
“My life doesn’t revolve around you! Why is it that the moment you wake up, you’re causing me trouble?”
“What’s the difference between you and an invalid right now? Do you think you’re healthy? That you can just push yourself like this?”
His eyes were red as he screamed, his voice raw with an emotion I couldn’t decipher.
I tried to take his hand, but he shook me off again. All I could do was offer him a placating smile. “I’m sorry, Sean. I didn’t mean to.”
Sean started supervising my physical therapy sessions.
He never looked happy, but he never looked unhappy either.
He just grew quieter.
The seven-year gap between us felt like a chasm, and I didn’t know how to cross it.
Back when our love was new, whenever I was upset, Sean would make silly faces to cheer me up. Now, when I clumsily tried to imitate him, he just pinched the bridge of his nose. “Clara, you’re thirty-two now. Try to be a little more mature.”
He turned his back on me. I slowly lowered my hands, my heart sinking.
The days in the hospital were a monotonous blur. One afternoon, as Sean was helping me practice walking, he looked up and froze.
Through the window, a young woman was staring at us, tears streaming down her face.
She was young, beautiful. She looked just like I did, back when I was healthy.
The moment he saw her, his hand supporting me was suddenly gone. His eyes trembled.
He ran after her in such a hurry that he slammed into the wall, never even noticing that I, having lost my balance, had crashed heavily to the floor behind him.
I dragged myself to the wall and slowly pulled myself up.
And I finally understood. All of Seanās recent distraction, his unspoken words, it all made sense now.
A smile, uglier than any sob, stretched across my face.
Waking up has been so bitter.
2
Sean came back late that night, carrying the faint, unfamiliar scent of another woman’s perfume.
I turned away from him, my eyes shut tight.
He sat down on the edge of my bed, his exhaustion a palpable weight in the room.
“I broke up with her.”
He paused for a long time. When he spoke again, his voice was thick with tears. “But God, Clara, I hate you. I hate you for saving me that day.”
Business is a cutthroat world.
Sean had climbed too high, too fast, making enemies along the way. Some were jealous enough to hire a hitman.
That day, when the car came barreling toward him, my body had moved on pure instinct. Iād used every ounce of strength I had to push him out of the way.
“For years, I sat by your side, day and night. You were justā¦ a living corpse lying there, and no one could tell me what to do.”
“I watched your body waste away. You couldn’t even control your own functions… I had to clean you.”
“I waited for you, year after year, but you never woke up. In my darkest moments, I thought about us just dying together.”
“I was so tired. I would have rather been the one lying in that bed.”
“I had finally, finally crawled out of your shadow. I was ready to start a new life. I had someone new to love.”
“She could cry, and laugh, and share things with me. She wasn’t just lying there, motionless.”
“So why, Clara? Why did you have to wake up now?”
I bit down on my lip so hard I could taste blood, fighting to keep my own sobs from escaping.
So, my waking was no longer something my lover had hoped for.
He resented me. I had become his burden.
He bent over, his body wracked with sobs, a man at the end of his rope. “You just can’t stand to see me happy, can you?”
“Whatever I owed you, haven’t I paid it back by now? After all these years? Why are you doing this to me?”
My throat was raw, and my heart felt like a gaping wound, cold wind howling through it.
The next day, however, Sean acted as if nothing had happened.
He took my hand, a robot going through the motions. “Sorry I wasn’t with you yesterday.”
I saw the dark circles under his eyes. I hadn’t slept either.
I gently pulled my hand away, forcing a light, cheerful tone. “If you have things to do, you should go. Don’t worry about me.”
“Those first two weeks, I was on my own anyway.”
Seanās face darkened instantly. He grabbed me from behind, his body trembling with a suppressed violence.
“Clara, what’s that supposed to mean? Are you blaming me?”
“What right do you have to blame me?”
His voice rose to a desperate shout, a release of pent-up frustration.
His grip was painful. I sniffled, my nose stinging with unshed tears, but I kept the smile on my face. “Sean, you misunderstood.”
“I really can manage on my own.”
He took a deep, shuddering breath and slowly released me, his expression smoothing over into a calm mask.
His voice was flat, devoid of emotion, tinged with a weary resignation.
He sounded like a man surrendering to his fate.
“Alright, Clara. Stop it.”
“You can barely walk. What could you possibly do by yourself?”
“I don’t have anything else to do. I made all this money to pay for your treatment in the first place.”
An impulse seized me. “Sean,” I asked, “do you still want to marry me?”
His hand stiffened. After a long pause, he sighed. “When you’re better, we’ll get married.”
He lowered his eyes, his expression wooden. It was the look of a man accepting a life sentence.
Before the accident, when I was twenty-five, Sean and I had already started planning our wedding. We were excited, getting married for the purest reason: because we were in love.
Now, it was just something he repeated, as if trying to convince himself as much as me.
“We should have been married a long time ago.”
“Marrying youā¦ it’s the right thing to do.”
3
The second time I saw Chloe, she came to the hospital to find me.
She told me sheād met Sean in my fourth year of the coma. He was in a terrible state back then, and she had burst into his world like a ray of sunshine. At first, heād ignored her, but slowly, heād softened.
They traveled together. The number of photos grewāholding hands, kissing, embracing. The smile had gradually returned to Seanās face.
“He loves me,” she said, her voice sharp. “If it weren’t for me, the torture of you lying there like a zombie would have broken him long ago.”
Those two weeks after I woke up, they had been on a trip for her twenty-fifth birthday.
“When he got the call that you were awake, it was like he was dragged right back to the day I met him. A walking corpse.”
“He’s only taking care of you now because you saved his life. He can’t abandon that responsibility. I’m begging you, can’t you just let him go?”
Before I could form a response, Chloe cried out in pain and stumbled to the floor.
I looked up and saw Sean standing a few feet away.
He rushed over, shoved me asideāmy wheelchair slammed into the wall with a dull thudāand knelt by Chloe, frantically checking if she was hurt.
Then he turned to me, his eyes cold, a deep-seated resentment simmering beneath the surface. “Clara, I already promised I’d marry you. What more do you want?”
He was so blinded by worry, he’d forgotten. I didn’t even have the strength to push a healthy adult to the ground.
The day I was discharged, Sean carried me to the car.
He barely spoke to me. In his free moments, he just stared at his phone, unconsciously scrolling through pictures of Chloe.
I had snuck a look at his phone once.
The moment it unlocked, my eyes had filled with tears. His passcode was still my birthday.
I also saw that he had muted all notifications from my caregiver. There were nearly a thousand unread messages. He hadn’t opened a single one.
I held his phone, laughing and crying at the same time.
Pathetic. Tragic.
My love was no longer my love, and I didn’t know who to blame.
A specially designated ringtone shattered the silence in the car. I saw Sean’s eyes light up. He answered the call with an almost reverent tenderness.
The voice on the other end was frantic. “Mr. Vance, you asked us to help Ms. Chen move out today.”
“She got really emotional… she took a bunch of pills. We’re at the hospital now.”
Sean lost all composure. The calm he had so carefully constructed shattered into a million pieces.
The car screeched to a halt. His face was a blank mask as he practically threw me out onto the side of the road. He didn’t even bother to get my wheelchair out of the trunk.
The car spun around and sped away.
I stood there as the wind whipped past my exposed skin, a chilling breeze that brought tears to my eyes.
The moon rose, but no one came back for me.
So I started walking, one unsteady step at a time, leaning heavily on my cane. I had no phone, no money. A few passersby looked like they wanted to help, but their companions pulled them back.
“Don’t. What if she tries to scam you?”
The sky grew dark, and a heavy rain began to fall.
Finally, following the faint path of my memory, I made it back to the home Sean and I once shared.
My hair and clothes were soaked, plastered to my skin. I shivered.
Through the black curtain of rain, Seanās car pulled up. He was holding an umbrella, his other arm wrapped around Chloe.
When he saw my pathetic, drenched figure, his eyes widened in shock, as if heād only just remembered heād left me behind. But his attention was quickly drawn back to the woman in his arms, and he walked past me into the house.
I was exhausted. Just as my last ounce of strength gave out, Sean reappeared and helped me into my wheelchair.
The house, which I hadn’t seen in seven years, was filled with the scent of another woman. Matching couples’ mugs, stuffed animals scattered about, his-and-hers pajamas draped over the sofa.
Sean began to unpack the boxes Chloe had started to fill, putting each item back in its place.
I watched him shield Chloe, fussing over her, giving her medicine, drying her hair. He tucked her into bed and pressed a gentle good-night kiss to her forehead.
And I sat by the door, still dripping water onto the floor.
The house was so big, but there seemed to be no place for me.
Sean quietly closed the bedroom door and finally seemed to notice me.
He walked over and slowly knelt before me. His voice was steady and clear.
“Clara, I’m sorry. Let’s break up.”
“When you were twenty-five, I lost you. Now she’s twenty-five. I can’t lose her too.”
“I’ll take care of you until you’ve recovered. I’ll compensate you.”
His eyes were red. “Please, just set me free.”
I lifted my hand, but before I could touch him, the world went black.
I never got to give Sean my answer.
What a shame. Such a terrible shame.
The last time he had knelt before me, he was proposing. His hand, holding the ring, had been trembling. He had said, “I will only ever love one person in my life: Clara Hale.”
I woke up from a long sleep only to realize I was the only one still trapped seven years in the past.
4
I fell ill, a high fever that took three days to break.
Sean wouldn’t let me leave my room. “Chloe’s not well either. I don’t want you getting her sick.”
The room was too quiet, which only made the sounds from the other side of the wall seem louder.
I heard Sean coaxing Chloe to take her supplements, telling her with a pained voice that she couldn’t play with her health like that.
I heard them discussing when I would leave.
I heard them watching a movie. Sean slipped socks onto Chloe’s feet, telling her she couldn’t walk around barefoot. Chloe snuggled into his arms. “Then you’ll just have to carry me everywhere.”
Sean’s voice was gentle. “Okay. I’ll always carry you.”
Always. What a beautiful word. He’d said it to me, too.
I buried my head under the covers, weeping silently in the dark.
When I was better, it was time for me to go.
“Clara, I’ve picked out a new house for you.”
“Chloe… she’s used to this place. She doesn’t want to move.”
He had arranged everything, down to the last detail. I finally cut him off.
“I get it. I’m not a fool. You should go back to her.”
His hand opened and closed, over and over. He started to say my name, but I looked down, hiding my tear-filled eyes, and quickly pushed him out the door.
“Go on, go. Go back to her.”
I saw him glance back once before he walked away, disappearing from view.
I lived alone, recovered alone.
The next time I heard Sean’s voice, it felt like a lifetime had passed. He was flipping through my old sketchbook.
“Clara, I’m getting married.”
“Chloe found your old design portfolio. She saw the wedding dress you designed and fell in love with it. We were hoping to buy the design from you.”
I had designed that dress for my wedding with Sean. It had taken months, with countless revisions.
But we would never use it now.
I smiled. “No need. Consider it a wedding gift.”
“It’s not like I have anything else to give you.”
Sean’s brow furrowed. He opened his mouth, then closed it. “Clara, you don’t have to be like this, trying to make me feel guilty.”
A sharp pain lanced through my chest. I wanted to explain, but the words wouldn’t come.
When my body was almost fully recovered, I received an invitation to Seanās wedding.
It was a fairytale ceremony. Staring at the names of the bride and groom printed side-by-side, I felt a surprising sense of calm.
I stood in the very back, watching Sean as if it were the last time I would ever see him in this life.
They read their vows, exchanged rings, did all the things I had once dreamed of a thousand times over.
“Goodbye, Sean.”
I lowered my head and turned to leave, bumping into a mutual friend from our past.
She stared at me, stunned. I was walking too fast for her to keep up.
“Clara? Is that you, Clara Hale?”
Seanās kiss on his new bride faltered. He instinctively looked in the direction of the voice.
But there was nothing there. Only a branch of flowers, swaying in the wind.
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My mother gave us two choices.
Go with her to the Sterling mansion, attend the best private high school with the young master, but be restricted to domestic universities.
Or stay in our hometown for school, with the promise of studying abroad after graduation.
My sister snatched the first option.
“Mom, I want to go to the Sterling mansion with you.”
Mom smiled with relief and turned to me.
“As the older sister, you should yield to your sister. Sending you abroad later will fulfill my duty as a mother.”
Seeing my sister clinging to Mom with a look of anticipation, I knew.
She had been reborn too.
Unfortunately for her, Liam Sterling would never fall for her.
Chapter 1
“Maddie, the employer has a lot of demands. Your sister and I are leaving today. Take care of yourself at home.”
After packing, Mom left with Chloe immediately.
It was completely unlike my past life, where she stayed ten extra days just to persuade Chloe to go to the Sterling mansion.
In our past life, after Mom presented the choices, Chloe also rushed to choose. But back then, she chose to study abroad.
After my parents divorced, I was awarded to my dad.
For ten whole years, Mom never visited me once, yet I missed her every day.
It wasn’t until Dad passed away and the police took me to Mom’s place that I had a mother again.
When Chloe chose to go abroad, I was overjoyed.
I could finally be with Mom day and night.
But Mom wanted to take Chloe with her. She stayed for ten days, constantly trying to persuade Chloe to go.
Chloe firmly believed the grass was greener on the other side. She didn’t budge until the employer urged Mom to return.
So, I went to the Sterling mansion with Mom and met Liam Sterling.
He was handsome, aloof, noble, and a top student.
He was the Prince Charming in every girl’s heart.
I couldn’t help but fall for him too.
I knew the gap between us was like heaven and earth, so I buried that affection deep in my heart.
Until after the college entrance exams, Liam, drunk after a party, pinned me against a wall.
“Maddie, come study abroad with me, okay?”
I turned my face away, restraining myself.
“I don’t have the money.”
Liam smiled, lighting up the entire basement.
“I’ll pay for you.”
In that moment, I knew.
The person I had secretly loved for three years liked me too.
Immeasurable happiness hit me.
Excitedly, I told Mom that the young master wanted to take me abroad.
What I got was a heavy slap across the face.
“You’re not going! When you chose to come to the Sterling mansion, you gave up the path to study abroad. The money I saved is for Chloe.”
I covered my face and explained.
“The young master said I don’t need to pay; he’ll cover my tuition.”
Mom scoffed, looking me up and down with disdain.
“Shameless. Climbing into bed for money. weigh yourself properlyālook at your status, look at his.
“Someone like him is just playing with you. When he gets bored, I’ll be the one stuck with the bill.
“Don’t even think about going abroad. If you dare disobey, don’t call me Mom ever again.
“And stay far away from the young master. Don’t jeopardize my job.”
Perhaps because I lacked maternal love growing up, my biggest fear was losing my mother.
Heartbroken, I rejected Liam.
But Liam told me solemnly.
“Distance isn’t a problem. I can afford plane tickets.”
In college, we started a long-distance relationship.
He flew back every month to see me. The sweetness of love filled me with hope for the future.
When Mom found out we were really dating, she went behind my back and asked Liam to take care of Chloe, who was also abroad.
Liam, unaware of our family dynamics, naively looked after Chloe as her brother-in-law.
Unexpectedly, one day in my senior year, I received a message from Chloe, along with a photo.
Chloe, topless, arms around Liam’s neck, lying in a hotel bed.
[Sis, Liam and I are together now. Stop pestering him.]
I had been with Liam for three years.
I knew he wouldn’t betray me.
My first thought was that Liam had been set up.
I furiously called Chloe.
But I didn’t notice the truck rushing towards me.
As my soul left my body, I heard Mom and Chloe talking.
“It’s good your sister died. You need to grab the young master’s heart. You’ll be the mistress of the Sterling family.”
Chloe laughed triumphantly.
“It was smart of you, Mom, to have Liam take care of me abroad. That gave me the chance to take that photo when he was drunk.
“I wanted Maddie to give up on her own, but her dying directly is even better. God has eyes.
“Once Liam gets over his grief, I’ll make my move.”
I always thought that even if Mom was biased, she still saw me as a daughter.
I never expected she wouldn’t even shed a tear over my death.
Devastated, I floated to find Liam.
Only to find him in a bathtub, holding my photo, having taken his own life.
Only then did I know.
Liam loved me more than life itself.
I went mad, using all my strength to trip Chloe as she walked down the stairs.
Watching Chloe fall to her death, my soul finally dissipated.
I didn’t expect to return to the day we chose our fates.
This time, Chloe chose the Sterling mansion.
She thinks going there will make Liam fall for her.
Too bad she’s wrong.
Liam won’t like her.
And I will make them pay for what they did in our past life.
Chapter 2
As soon as Mom and Chloe left, my aunt used “renovating the room” as an excuse to send me to boarding school early.
Before, when Mom worked as a maid at the Sterling mansion, she let us stay at my uncle’s house and paid my aunt a monthly living fee.
In my past life, after Mom and I went to the Sterling mansion, Mom increased the fee and asked them to take good care of Chloe.
Chloe lived well at my uncle’s house.
Now it seems Mom stopped the payments.
I didn’t argue. I packed my things and left.
Before school started, I had one more place to go.
After leaving my uncle’s, I went to the bank.
Dad used to deposit a small sum for my birthday every year. Only I knew about that account.
I withdrew the money and took a long-distance bus to a remote cemetery.
It was stormy that day. I wrapped myself in a raincoat and waited behind a tree.
Near dusk, sixteen-year-old Liam rushed in through the rain, followed by several bodyguards.
Liam was soaked, his narrow eyes cold, but his steps firm.
He walked to a grave and frantically clawed at the grass.
“Young Master, the rain is too heavy. It probably got washed away. Let’s look when the rain stops.”
Liam acted like he didn’t hear.
Just as he was exhausted and despairing, I walked out from behind the tree.
“Excuse me, are you looking for this?”
I pulled a necklace from my pocket.
Liam’s eyes lit up, and he walked over quickly.
Seeing him soaked, I raised my umbrella to shield him from the rain.
Liam took the necklace with trembling hands, his expression softening.
“How do you have it?”
In my past life, after we got together, he said his biggest regret was losing the necklace he made with his mother in the summer of his sixteenth year.
So, I came to the cemetery.
To fix his regret, and to meet him.
I shrugged, shrinking into my coat.
“The rain washed it down. I picked it up and saw you searching, so I thought it might be yours.”
“Thank you. This necklace is very important to me. What reward do you want?”
Liam said thanks, but still kept people a thousand miles away.
I shivered and said, “Treat me to a cup of instant noodles. I’m cold and hungry.”
Liam froze, then burst out laughing.
“Deal!”
Half an hour later, at my insistence, Liam ate his first cup of instant noodles with me.
“I didn’t know instant noodles were this good.”
When we were together before, his favorite was instant noodles.
After eating, Liam wanted my contact info to thank me properly.
I smiled and refused.
“If it’s fate, we’ll meet again.”
The moment I turned around, I couldn’t hold back my tears.
I wanted to rush over, hug him, and tell him everything about our past life.
Tell him I missed him like crazy.
But that would make me look insane.
I didn’t leave my contact because I knew his every move in high school.
We would meet again.
Liam would think it was fate.
Not a plan.
Chapter 3
School finally started.
The high school curriculum was too easy for me.
I began plotting my second meeting with Liam.
During the October break, I got a part-time job cleaning at the ice hockey rink.
On the third morning, Liam came to practice.
I watched secretly from the back.
When he was done, I whispered.
“You should twist your wrist when passing.”
Liam spun around.
I couldn’t see his eyes under the helmet, but I felt his shock.
“It’s you! You can see my weakness?”
How could I?
He told me himself.
I played dumb.
“Just a little bit. Do we know each other?”
Liam took off his helmet, eyes sparkling with surprise.
I opened my mouth in exaggerated shock.
“It’s you!”
At noon, we ate together.
“You’re a minor, how are you working here?”
“Shh! Don’t let the boss know. I’m pretending to be an adult.”
“Do you really need money?”
“My dad died in a car accident. Mom took all the money and left with my sister. If I don’t work, what do I do?”
Liam was silent for a moment.
“Practice hockey with me later.”
I hesitated.
“I still have to sweep.”
“Five thousand an hour.”
“Yes sir, boss!”
Liam laughed again, almost spitting out his rice.
After playing in the afternoon, Liam asked me to dinner again.
I was about to agree when I saw Chloe watching from outside the rink.
“Next time! I have to go.”
When paying me, we exchanged contacts.
Back at the hotel, Liam texted.
[Home safe?]
I couldn’t help smiling.
But I only replied with a “Mm.”
Chapter 4
After the break, I started preparing for the debate competition.
In my past life, although I knew Liam, at school he was in Class 1 and I was in the last class.
At home, he lived on the top floor, I lived in the basement.
We were two parallel lines.
It was a debate competition that made Liam see me.
This time, I was going to shine even brighter.
But when I got the materials ready, I found my high school didn’t plan to sign up.
Furious, I took my bedding and slept in the hallway of the principal’s house.
The principal couldn’t beat me and finally agreed to let me form a team, but we had to pay our own expenses.
Luckily, many students wanted to participate.
We prepared and competed together, busy and happy.
Liam sometimes texted me.
Every time, I would stop and read every word multiple times.
Finally, suppressing my eagerness, I’d reply with just a few words.
Before winter break of freshman year, I led the debate team to the finals.
Liam spotted me immediately.
“Another part-time job?”
I flashed my school badge.
“I’m here for the finals.”
Liam glanced at the badge, eyes widening.
“You’re the legendary debater from Maple Leaf High.”
“Legendary?”
Liam looked moved, eyes burning.
“For your school to make it to the finals, it’s like a miracle.
“Half the audience today is here for your captain. Introduce me later.”
Just then, a teammate ran over.
“Captain, our seats are over there. Let’s go!”
Liam froze, his look changing. I punched the air, smiling confidently.
“See you in the arena, Student Liam!”
There were four teams in the finals.
We played against another school first.
Having done this in my past life, I knew the topic and the opponent’s weaknesses.
Unsurprisingly, we crushed them.
Throughout the process, I felt a familiar gaze getting hotter.
When Liam competed, I sat in the audience opposite them.
Just like in the past life, he was calm and composed, dismantling the opponent’s arguments methodically.
After he won, I saw him looking for me, so I dragged my classmates away.
Feelingsāthe more you can’t have them, the more you crave them.
When Liam texted, I only replied “Busy.”
The next day in the grand finals, Liam and I sat opposite each other.
In the past life, he was first speaker, I was second.
I knew his style and used to cover his flaws.
Now, his flaws became my points of attack.
An hour later, Liam stood up and extended his hand.
“Congratulations!”
Familiar warmth came from his palm. I bit the inside of my cheek to stop the tears.
Leaving the venue, Liam was surrounded.
Even losing, he was still the star.
But Liam squeezed out of the crowd and walked toward me with his long legs.
He smiled, eyes full of complex emotions.
“Maddie, can I buy you dinner this afternoon?”
The aloof god actively inviting a girl to dinner.
The scene was silent for a second, then erupted in screams.
“Am I blind? Liam is smiling at that girl.”
“Buying her dinner too? OMG! I can’t imagine eating with Liam.”
“She’s pretty too, and she won.”
Teammates pushed me forward.
“Captain has time, go eat!”
“You two eat, we’ll sit at the kids’ table.”
I looked up, about to nod.
Suddenly, someone rushed out of the crowd.
“Maddie! Impossible, how could you…”
Chloe’s twisted face magnified.
Just as she lunged to push me, Liam blocked me with a dark face.
Whispers rose from the crowd.
“That’s the daughter of the maid at Liam’s house. Always following him.”
“Says Liam will love her, but he doesn’t even look at her.”
“A toad wanting swan meat. Doesn’t know her place.”
Exactly!
Even swapping fates, Liam would never like Chloe.
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My husband posted a family photo.
The first comment under it read:
[Dude, I think youāve got a garden growing on your head.]
[Your kid looks absolutely nothing like you.]
[Five years of raising another manās bastard and youāre smiling like the cuckold you are!]
Marcus couldnāt stop staring at the replies. The more he read, the angrier he got, until he was screaming about divorce.
To prove my innocenceāto myself, as much as to himāI agreed to a DNA test.
Only to find out that the child wasnāt his… or mine.
01
The instant I stepped through the front door, before I could even drop my bag, a stack of papers slammed into my face.
A sharp corner grazed my cheek, leaving a thin, stinging line.
Marcus Thorne stood in the center of our living room, his face a chilling mask of fury.
āYou filthy bitch!ā
His voice was a gravelly snarl ripped from the back of his throat.
āYou actually had the gall to put horns on my head!ā
I froze, bewildered.
It took several seconds for me to bend down and gather the sheets scattered across the hardwood floor. My eyes scanned the dense, clinical jargon until they snagged on the final, bolded line:
[Conclusion: Marcus Thorne is excluded as the biological father of Jace Thorne.]
Boom.
The world tilted. All the blood in my body rushed to my head, leaving me breathless and dizzy.
I looked up, shaking my head in utter disbelief. āNo, Marcus! That canāt be right! They made a mistake. Jace is absolutely your son, I swear to God!ā
āSwear to God?ā
He laughedāa short, vicious sound that held no humor. A second later, his hand was moving.
CRACK!
My left ear immediately began to ring, a high-pitched, insistent drone. My cheek felt like it had been set on fire. I stumbled backward, managing to brace myself against the shoe cabinet.
āAudra Quinn, youāre still lying!ā
Marcus lunged forward, his large hand clamping down violently on my throat. He shoved me against the wall.
āTell me! Who was it? Who was the bastard? When did you sneak around? Tell me!ā
The impact jarred my spine. A paralyzing sense of suffocation washed over me. I clawed at his wrist, desperate to break his grip, but it was like struggling against concrete.
āThere was no one else! I donāt know why the test says thisā¦ā
āYou donāt know?ā
He leaned in, his eyes bloodshot and bulging.
āAre you going to tell me next that the hospital swapped the babies?ā
His grip tightened, cutting off the last trickle of air.
āHa! You were the only mother who had a boy on that floor that night! I remember everything! I even took a picture the minute the nurse brought him out!ā
Black spots danced at the edge of my vision. The room blurred into a shimmering pool of light and shadow. Was this how I was going to die?
Just as consciousness began to recede, a small voice broke through the panic.
āMommy!ā
A tiny figure burst from the bedroom doorway, running full tilt and slamming into Marcusās leg.
02
Jace balled his small fists and pummeled Marcusās thigh.
āBad Daddy! Donāt hit Mommy! Donāt be mean to Mommy!ā
āGet off me, you little bastard!ā
Blind with rage, Marcus didn’t even look down. He swung his leg out and kicked.
Ughā!
A sickening thud. Jace flew backward, landing hard on the floor.
āWAAAHā!!!ā
A heart-rending scream echoed through the quiet apartment.
Jace! My child!
I found a surge of primal strength I didn’t know I possessed. I bent my knee and drove it with all my might into Marcusās groin.
āAghā!ā
The hand choking me finally released its hold. He fell to the ground, writhing in agonizing pain. Air flooded back into my lungs, triggering a harsh, racking cough.
But I ignored it all.
āJaceā!ā
I scrambled, crawling toward my son, frantically checking him for injuries.
Thankfully, his thick winter clothes provided some padding. He wasn’t physically hurt, but he was hysterical.
āYou bitch, Iām going to kill you!ā
Recovering enough to breathe through the shock of pain, Marcus spotted a nearby dining chair. He grabbed it and raised it high, aiming for me and Jace.
No time to think.
I spun and shielded Jaceās small body with my own.
CRASH!
A searing pain erupted across my back, causing my body to convulse. Jace, pinned beneath me, was rigid with terror, the crying instantly arrested.
Just then, a furious pounding started on the front door.
Mr. Henderson, our neighbor from across the hall, roared:
āWhat the hell is going on in there?! Are you tearing the place apart?! Keep it down, itās the middle of the damn evening!ā
A sliver of hope pierced the terror. I drew a deep breath and screamed, my voice raw and desperate:
āHelp! Please! Call the police!ā
BANG, BANG, BANG!
The door-banging intensified.
Mr. Henderson yelled, āOpen this door right now! Or Iām calling 911 myself!ā
03
Marcus had no choice but to unlock the door.
Mr. Henderson stormed in.
His eyes immediately fixed on me, crumpled on the floor. The purplish-red fingerprints around my neck, the blood trickling from my lip. Jace was curled in my arms, shaking like a leaf. On the floor beside us was a small puddle of yellow liquid.
Rage flashed across the neighbor’s face. He pointed at Marcus.
āYou sick animal! How could you beat a woman like this?!ā
He reached for his phone, ready to dial.
āHold on, buddy, you need to see this!ā
Marcus grabbed the manās arm, shoving the paternity report into his hand. His eyes were red-rimmed and filled with what looked like genuine despair.
āThis cheating slut was sleeping around! The kid isnāt mine! Iāve been raising another manās bastard for five years!ā
Mr. Henderson instinctively glanced at the report. When he looked up, his expression was entirely differentāfilled with contempt.
āWell, well. You make a mess like that, and you have the nerve to yell for help?ā
I shook my head violently, trying to explain. āItās not like that! I didnātā¦ā
Mr. Henderson scoffed, cutting me off.
āSave it! I hate loose women like you! The absolute worst kind of trash.ā
He turned to Marcus, slapping him roughly on the shoulder, his voice filled with sympathy and resentment.
āListen, man, I get it. I totally do. My ex-wife, she ran off with a fitness trainer. Cheaters are all the same, man. I shouldnāt have gotten involved. Just pretend I was never here. Do what you gotta do.ā
He started to walk away.
I somehow found the strength to lunge forward, grabbing the cuff of his trousers. Tears mixed with the blood on my face.
āPleaseā¦ help meā¦ call the policeā¦ā
āGet off me, you dirt!ā
Mr. Henderson kicked out, catching me hard on the shoulder! I tumbled backward, crashing into the overturned chair, stars exploding behind my eyes.
He brushed off his pant leg, as if wiping away a disgusting stain. Then, with a stern face, he addressed Marcus.
āA word of advice, pal. Gag her mouth. You donāt want some clueless idiot hearing the noise and actually calling the cops. Thatāll complicate things.ā
Marcusās eyes lit up.
āThanks, man. Youāre a lifesaver.ā
Mr. Henderson nodded, gave me one final look of utter disgust, turned, opened the door, and stepped out.
THWUMP.
The door shut with chilling finality. My last thread of hope snapped.
04
Click-clack.
Marcus double-locked the door.
He turned slowly, staring at me with a malevolent, chilling smirk.
āSo, Audra Quinn. You think youāre tough now? You wanted to call the cops?ā
I held Jace tightly, looking up to meet his gaze, my voice a broken rasp.
āMarcus, Iām going to tell you one last time. I never cheated on you. If you donāt believe me, thereās nothing more I can do.ā
Every word felt like a needle in my lungs, but I forced the rest out:
āLetās get a divorce. The house, the savings, I donāt want any of it. I just want Jace.ā
āDivorce?ā
He sneered.
The sound hadnāt even died whenā
SMACK!
Another slap landed without warning.
My ears screamed with the force of the blow, and a tooth came loose.
He leaned down, his thumb stroking my split lip. The gesture was deceptively gentle, but it sent shivers of pure terror through me.
āIāve changed my mind. There will be no divorce.
āYou cheated me for five years, you piece of garbage. Iām not letting you off that easyā¦ā
His eyes fell on Jace, who was trembling in my arms.
āAnd this little bastard, too.ā
He grabbed Jaceās arm and yanked him away from me!
āMommyā!ā
Jaceās scream was piercing.
āShut up!ā
Marcus roared, covering the childās mouth and nose with his other hand. Jaceās cries were muffled into broken whimpering sounds. His small feet kicked uselessly in the air.
āLook closely, Audra Quinn.ā
He clamped his hand around Jaceās neck, forcing the childās face toward me.
āHis little life is in my hands now. If you dare to scream again, if you dare to think about calling the policeā¦ā
His fingers tightened ever so slightly on Jaceās neck. Jaceās face began to flush red from the lack of air.
I cried, shaking my head. āStop! I wonāt do anything. Marcus, let him go, please!ā
Marcus finally loosened his grip, a look of satisfied malice on his face. He lifted Jace and walked toward the bedroom.
05
The days that followed blurred into a living nightmare.
Marcus stopped going to work. He spent his days drinking at home. An empty bottle, a meal that wasn’t to his liking, even bad weather outsideāany of it was an excuse to beat me.
The nights were the most humiliating. He would roll over at any time. If I resisted, he would give a slow, chilling smile.
āWhatās this? Playing the virtuous wife now?
āDo you want to wake up the little bastard and let him watch, too?ā
Hearing that, all the fight drained out of me. I became utterly limp. I would just stare blankly at the ceiling, allowing him to use my body as he pleased.
I had tried to escape. I had come so close. So close.
One night, Marcus was finally in a deep, drunken sleep. I scooped up Jace and crept to the door. I had just cracked it open when I ran right into Mr. Henderson.
He blocked my path.
āWell, well. Out for a little stroll, are we? Canāt keep your legs closed, huh?ā
Before I could beg, he turned his head and yelled into my apartment:
āHey, Marcus! Check on your little tramp! Sheās trying to sneak out again!ā
What followed was Marcus dragging me back by the hair, all the way from the entryway to the center of the living room, where he beat me until I blacked out.
I couldnāt get out of bed for three days. There wasn’t a patch of unmarked skin on my body.
After that, a heavy-duty security chain was installed on the front door. The spare keys were hidden in a place I couldn’t reach.
06
The terror and trauma of the past week finally broke Jace.
He developed a high fever. His skin was frighteningly hot. He was drowsy, muttering āMommyā faintly in his sleep.
I knelt on the floor, begging Marcus.
āJaceās fever is too high, he needs a doctor, pleaseā¦ā
Marcus sat on the sofa, legs crossed, slowly sipping his whiskey. He didn’t even look up.
āThe bastard can die for all I care.
āIām starving. Get in the kitchen and make me some food.ā
He kicked me hard. A muffled cry of pain escaped me, but I swallowed the tears, grabbing his pant leg, pleading desperately.
āPlease, let me take Jace to the ER first. Iāll do anything when I get back, please! Heāll get brain damage!ā
He leaned down, his breath reeking of alcohol, his eyes cold and vicious.
āIām going to say this one last time. Cook.
āWaste one more minute begging, and Iāll kill him right now. Do you believe me?ā
I believed him. How could I not?
All the pleas died in my throat. I released his leg, pushed myself up on wobbly limbs, and stumbled into the kitchen.
I turned the gas stove knob.
The blue flame whooshed to life.
I looked back through the kitchen doorway. Jace was a little patch of scarlet on the sofa, his body twitching with occasional convulsions. Marcus poured another glass of whiskey, tilting his head back to drink it down, not sparing Jace a single glance.
A cold certainty settled over me. If things went on like this, both Jace and I would die.
I stood there in silence for a long time.
Finally, I picked up the bottle of cooking oil and poured the entire contents into the pan. I scooped several large spoonfuls of granulated sugar and sprinkled them over the oil.
The oil began to smoke. The sugar slowly melted. Brown bubblesāboiling, viscous, and deadlyāgurgled up.
āWhat the hell are you doing? Did you die in the kitchen?ā
Marcusās impatient, angry roar came from the dining room.
CLANG!
The sound of a chair being roughly pushed back.
āAre you trying to get another beating? Iām talking to you, why arenāt you answering?ā
His footsteps were at the doorway.
Now.
The instant Marcus leaned in to peer around the corner, I hoisted the pan and flung the contents directly at his face.
The scalding oil arced through the air.
āAARGHā!!!ā
A horrifying, piercing scream erupted.
The sickening smell of burnt flesh filled the air.
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I used my status and wealth to force the housekeeperās son, Caleb Vance, to marry me.
Weāve been married for two years. I control his life. I boss him around. I treat him like heās still the help.
Today, he annoyed me again.
Just as I raised my hand, ready to slap that stoic look off his face, a stream of floating text boxes scrolled across my vision:
[Ugh, I hate this bratty villainess! She has such āPrincess Syndrome.ā Why hasnāt the Male Lead divorced her yet?]
[Let her throw a tantrum. This slap is the final straw. Itās what makes him go cold. When her family goes bankrupt next week, heās going to steal their last project.]
[Does the villainess know? Her daddy is broke!]
[Total ruin. She ends up jumping into the ocean.]
[Meanwhile, our Male Leadās tech startup goes IPO. Heās not the poor boy she bullied anymore. Heās going to live happily ever after with the Heroine!]
I froze. My hand hovered inches from Calebās cheek.
He looked down at me, confused.
“Why did you stop?”
1
When Caleb walked in with the groceries, I smashed a glass on the floor.
He paused, set the bags down, and walked over to me in three long strides.
His voice was low, gentle. “What’s wrong?”
I crossed my arms, glaring. “Why did you hire that girl I hate at your company?”
Caleb looked genuinely baffled.
“Who?”
My anger spiked. He didn’t even know who I hated! I had definitely mentioned her.
I raised my hand, ready to slap him like I used to.
Thatās when the weird text appeared.
I froze.
Me?
The villainess?
My family is going to go bankrupt? My dad and brother in jail? My mom dying of depression?
Me… jumping into the ocean?
And Caleb, my husband, living happily ever after with herāEmily Clarkeāthe “Heroine” the text mentioned?
I stared into space for too long. Caleb gently took my wrist.
“Why didn’t you hit me?”
I let out a dry, awkward laugh and pulled my hand back. “It’s your company. Obviously, you can hire whoever you want.”
The floating text popped up again:
[Why did she stop?]
[Doesn’t matter. Heās already sick of her. Wait until he meets our gentle, sweet Heroine.]
Caleb frowned. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number.
“Send me the list of all new hires from the past month.”
I sat on the sofa, panic rising in my chest. Bankruptcy? Jail?
I couldn’t afford to annoy Caleb anymore.
I watched him crouch down to pick up the glass shards. Then he went to the utility closet for the mop.
“The salesman said this glass was shatterproof,” I muttered, feeling guilty.
Caleb paused. I thought I heard a small chuckle.
“It’s better to let your temper out than keep it in.”
After cleaning the living room, he sat next to me. “HR is compiling the list. Want to tell me who it is?”
“I don’t manage your hiring,” I deflected.
But under his patient gaze, I finally cracked. “Emily Clarke.”
The comments flooded my vision:
[LMAO. Does the villainess think heās going to fire the Heroine?]
[They have similar backgrounds! They are soulmates!]
[The Heroine isn’t bratty. She would never make the Male Lead cook instant noodles at midnight or wash her feet.]
2
My temper, which Iād just suppressed, flared up again.
I was furious.
Caleb did those things because he wanted to! I never forced him to wash my feet!
“Emily Clarke? Your college roommate?” Calebās brow furrowed. “I didn’t hire her. I didn’t even know she was there.”
“I’ll check tomorrow. I’ll give you an answer after work, okay?”
I pouted. “Okay. But you’re not allowed to see her.”
Caleb nodded. “I have no intention of seeing her.”
He took the groceries to the kitchen.
[Wow. The villainess is trying to stop fate?]
[Don’t worry, the official couple always meets. She can’t stop it.]
I tried to ignore the floating text.
At noon, I had texted him a menu of what I wanted for dinner. I peeked into the bagsāhe had bought exactly what I asked for.
“Wait,” I called out to his back. “You worked all day. Let the housekeeper cook.”
Calebās eyes flashed with amusement. “Are you worried about me?”
“I just… I’ll cook. You like my cooking.”
He walked into the kitchen anyway.
I stared at his back.
Does Caleb really hate me? Is all this kindness just him biding his time?
The next day, I went to my parents’ estate.
Mom, Dad, and my brother seemed normal.
“Bro,” I asked tentatively. “Is the company okay? Any financial trouble?”
My brotherās face changed for a split second before he scoffed. “We’re flourishing. Don’t jinx us.”
“We had a small cash flow issue a while back, but it’s resolved,” my mom added. “Just focus on your life with Caleb.”
My heart sank.
They were hiding it. Theyāve always spoiled me. They told me I was born to enjoy life, not worry about money.
At noon, Caleb texted.
Caleb: No menu today? What do you want for dinner?
I replied: I’ll eat out.
That evening, Caleb came home and handed me a file.
It was Emily Clarkeās termination paperwork.
“I really didn’t know. Since you’re unhappy, I fired her. I gave her three months’ severance.”
[No way! Did he actually fire the Heroine?]
[The villainess doesn’t know, but the leads met at the coffee shop downstairs today! Fate is unstoppable!]
[Whatever. Heās just tolerating her for now. Heāll realize Emilyās worth soon.]
Reading the comments, I felt defeated. I shook my head. “It’s fine.”
“I overreacted yesterday. Sorry.”
Caleb didn’t look happy. He studied me closely.
“Really? No tantrum?”
“Sloane, is something going on?”
“Nothing,” I lied.
3
Since I couldn’t stop Caleb and Emily from falling in love, I decided to minimize the damage.
Maybe if I wasn’t such a witch, Caleb would help my family when we went broke.
I started liquidating my assets.
I returned all the bags, dresses, and jewelry I had just ordered.
It hurt. That limited-edition blue mermaid dress took months to secure.
After college, I opened a high-end piano studio. I barely managed it, letting hired staff run the show while I shopped and went to concerts.
Now, I sat in the studio, staring at the ledgers.
Headache. I didn’t understand any of it.
Caleb messaged again about dinner.
I replied: I sent the menu to the housekeeper. Sheāll cook.
The “typing” bubble appeared for a long time.
Caleb: Is my cooking bad lately?
Caleb: Tell me what to fix.
My head throbbed harder.
Me: No. You work hard. You should rest.
Another long pause.
Caleb: I told you, I’m not tired.
I didn’t reply.
When I got home, there were three cookbooks on the coffee table.
Me: ?
Before bed, Caleb gave me a goodnight kiss.
This was a rule I made on our wedding night. He had followed it religiously for two years.
The annoying text floated by:
[Ew, gross. When does the villainess die?]
[Stop kissing her, Caleb!]
I turned my head away. Caleb paused.
He gripped my chin gently but firmly, turning my face back, and kissed me anyway.
He wasn’t as gentle as usual.
I cursed at him.
He kissed my forehead softly. “Sorry.”
But he didn’t stop.
4
On Calebās motherās birthday, I tactfully didn’t mention going.
I just had my assistant send a gift.
The comments were buzzing.
[This is it! The birthday scene! This is where he falls for the Heroine!]
[Emily lives next door to Calebās mom. Sheās going over to celebrate!]
I squeezed my eyes shut.
Caleb called me. I had just drifted off to sleep.
“Are you busy this afternoon?”
I suppressed my usual wake-up rage. “Mmhmm.”
Silence. “Okay.”
By late afternoon, I couldn’t help it. I drove to his mom’s modest apartment complex.
At 6 PM, I saw Caleb and Emily walking out of the gate together.
Just like the comments said.
Emily was holding a birthday cake box.
Tears pricked my eyes.
I don’t get it. Why am I the villain?
Aside from forcing him to marry me when he was vulnerable… I haven’t done anything evil.
Okay, I’m bossy. I have a bad temper. I’m spoiled.
But Caleb never complained.
Was his patience all an act? Was he just enduring the humiliation until he could destroy my family?
If I ask for a divorce now, will he still crush us?
5
Calebās mom, Mrs. Vance, was our housekeeper for as long as I can remember.
She was a single mom. My parents let her bring Caleb to live in the carriage house on our estate.
The first time I saw him, he was skinny and tan.
On my eighth birthday, I had a huge party. I was wearing a princess dress, surrounded by friends.
I went to the bathroom and heard Mrs. Vance in the utility room.
“I’m sorry, baby. I was too busy. I didn’t bake your cake.”
“It’s okay, Mom. I know you work hard.”
After using the bathroom, I cut a huge slice of my tiered cake and brought it to the utility room.
Caleb looked at the cake, then at me. “I don’t need your pity.”
I blinked. “I’m not pitying you. I’m wishing you a happy birthday.”
He froze. “Thanks.”
“We have the same birthday,” I beamed. “We’re fated.”
He smiled thenāa rare, genuine smile. “Happy birthday.”
I don’t remember when I started liking him.
We didn’t interact much. Just exchanged birthday wishes once a year.
Maybe it was when he hit puberty and suddenly got hot. I am shallow, after all.
Or maybe it was when we were twelve. An earthquake hit while we were in the basement wine cellar.
We were trapped for hours.
He kept talking to me, keeping me awake.
He gave me a single piece of chocolate from his pocket.
“I can’t take it,” I said.
“Take it,” he insisted. “You gave me this chocolate originally.”
My brother had brought it back from Europe. I had given a box to Caleb.
“Because I gave it to you, you’re giving it back?”
“No,” he said in the dark. “Even if someone else gave it to me, I’d give it to you.”
“Why?”
“I… don’t want you to die.”
“Idiot,” I whispered weakly. “We can split it.”
It was a tiny piece of chocolate, but we survived.
6
Caleb grew up to be brilliant.
Even in faded jeans, he stood out. He was always top of the class.
In junior year, I confessed to him.
He rejected me. “I need to focus on my studies.”
I cried my eyes out. I was rich, beautiful, and kind(ish). We were perfect!
After high school graduation, I tried again.
“Exams are over. Will you date me now?”
He looked at me with a complex, deep gaze.
“No. I don’t like you.”
I was furious. I swore Iād move on.
For four years of college, I tried dating other guys. But none of them were Caleb.
My friends called me pathetic.
When I was twenty-two, my mom told me Mrs. Vance quit.
Trouble at home. Calebās deadbeat dad had returned after fifteen years, bringing a massive gambling debt. The loan sharks had taken Mrs. Vance.
I found Caleb. I put on my haughtiest pose.
“I’ll pay the debt. But you have to marry me.”
I would have paid it anyway.
But to my shock, he nodded.
So we got married.
After the wedding, Caleb treated me like a queen. He was patient with my jealousy and my tantrums.
I thought weād grow old together.
Until the floating text appeared.
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