Category: English

I was the last to know about my wife’s second pregnancy. After two years of working in South Africa on a company assignment, I returned home to find my wife about to give birth. I didn’t lose my cool and question her. Instead, I calmly said, “Now that I’m back, we can proceed with the divorce.” My wife panicked, grabbing my hand and explaining anxiously, “Honey, let me explain… You’ve been away for two years, and David has been helping us with everything. I’m just having this baby to repay him, don’t overthink it.” Our six-year-old daughter chimed in to defend her mother, “Dad, you jerk! You’ve been gone for so long. If it weren’t for Uncle David, Mom and I would have starved! What’s wrong with Mom having a baby for Uncle David? Don’t be unreasonable!” Looking at the mother and daughter duo in front of me, I nodded calmly, “You have a point.” I did feel guilty about neglecting my wife and child. I hadn’t been able to be there for them these past two years. But during my time in South Africa, I sent all the money I earned to Rachel. Sixty thousand dollars a year was enough to ensure they lived comfortably. I worked hard abroad to provide them with a better life. But I never imagined it would end like this. Actually, I had heard rumors while I was away. A colleague back home had mentioned something in an email, but I couldn’t believe it. I still had hope for Rachel, thinking she had just gained weight. I finished my project half a month early and rushed back home, only to have my worst fears confirmed. At that moment, I felt no urge to lose my temper, only endless disappointment. Rachel knew she was in the wrong. She poured me a glass of water and handed it to me cautiously, “Honey… have some water.” I took the water from her and calmly said, “Your belly’s big now, you shouldn’t stand for too long. Sit down.” Seeing my calm demeanor, Rachel’s tense emotions eased a bit. She awkwardly sat down next to me with her big belly. I took a sip of water and continued, “Now that you’re pregnant, I won’t be the bad guy and separate you and David. Since David isn’t married yet, after we divorce, you can be with him.” Hearing this, Rachel’s emotions flared up again. “Jack, what do you mean?” She stared at me in disbelief, angrily saying, “Are you abandoning me? I’ve been with you since I was twenty, supporting you from nothing to where we are today! I’ve given so much to this family, how can you talk about divorce so easily!” Yes, she was right. But years of weathering storms together couldn’t withstand two years of loneliness and emptiness. It was laughable. I turned to our daughter watching TV and asked, “Emily, if Mom and Dad get divorced, who will you stay with?” Without even looking at me, Emily replied without hesitation, “I’ll stay with Mom! If you and Mom divorce, Mom will marry Uncle David, and then I can call Uncle David ‘Dad’. I’ve wanted to call him Dad for a long time!” An expected answer, but it didn’t disappoint me much. I nodded calmly, “Alright, if that’s what you want.” I got up resolutely, ignoring Rachel’s protests, and left the house with the suitcase I had just brought back. I went to a bar and called up some old friends I hadn’t seen in two years. At the table, my friends teased me, “Jack, why are you here with us instead of going to see your wife first thing after coming back?” I took a big gulp of alcohol and said hoarsely, with disappointment, “I don’t have a wife anymore.” My friends exchanged glances. One who had heard rumors asked, “Jack, I heard your wife is pregnant… is it true?” “Yeah, the child is her childhood friend’s.” The table fell silent, and the atmosphere became heavy. I kept drinking, trying to numb myself with alcohol. After a few rounds, Rachel called me. I answered groggily, and Rachel’s scolding voice came through, “Jack, stop this nonsense, okay? We haven’t seen each other for two years, and you come back giving me the cold shoulder and running away from home. How childish can you be?” Emily’s childish voice could be heard in the background, “Mom, don’t call Dad anymore. If he wants to leave, let him! He’s been gone for two years, and we’ve been doing just fine without him!” I said nothing and hung up the phone. Yes, they had been doing just fine without me.

My two years in South Africa weren’t easy. The conditions there were harsh, with scarce water and frequent power outages. I often worked in temperatures of over 100°F. But whenever I thought about the $150,000 salary I could earn in two years to provide a better life for my wife and child, I felt more motivated. I never imagined that when I returned, everything would have changed. After drinking with my friends, when I sobered up a bit, I still went back home. There were still some things I needed to take from the house. When I got home, it was already past midnight. Rachel wasn’t asleep yet. Seeing my drunken state, she frowned with disgust and scolded me, “Jack, don’t you know pregnant women shouldn’t be exposed to alcohol smell? You come back drunk without any consideration for me!” “I’m here to pack some things, then I’ll leave,” I said flatly. “Leave?” Rachel’s voice rose, asking me unhappily, “Where are you going again?” “I’m moving to the company dormitory.” Rachel got angry again, pointing at my nose and yelling, “Jack, how long are you going to keep this up! As a man, can’t you be more generous! Don’t you know how much David has helped me these two years while you were away! “When I was sick, when Emily had a fever or cold, it was David who took care of us! Even when my mom was hospitalized, David was the one running around helping! I’m just having a child for him, fulfilling his wish to be a father. Do you have to be so petty about it!” “Mm, I don’t,” I sneered, “If you want to have his child, go ahead. I’m not stopping you.” After packing my things, I slammed the door on my way out. Rachel shouted angrily behind me, “Jack, you have no class at all. What kind of man are you!” I laughed bitterly. Perhaps in her eyes, only David was a real man. I had given so much to this family, but in the end, I couldn’t warm her cold heart. Early the next morning, I submitted a request for an overseas assignment to the company. This time, the destination was Europe. Before the South Africa project ended, my boss had intended to send me to Europe as the general manager of the European branch, with a salary several times higher. But at the time, I declined to return home to be with my wife and child. Now, I had no attachments left. In the afternoon, I went back home once more with divorce papers. Rachel and Emily weren’t home. I called Rachel and asked, “Where are you? I want to discuss the divorce with you.” These words angered Rachel again. She replied irritably, “I’m at the hospital for a prenatal check-up. I’m busy!” “Which hospital? I’ll come to you.” Rachel snapped at me, “Jack, I’m about to give birth, and you’re trying to stress me out at a time like this! I’m at the Women’s Hospital, but even if you come, I won’t agree to a divorce!” When I arrived at the Women’s Hospital, I ran into Rachel who had just finished her check-up. Beside her were Emily and the father of the child – David. David carefully helped Rachel sit down, looking at her with concern, as if she were a priceless treasure. Emily sat next to them, excitedly saying, “Uncle David, I hope Mom gives me a little brother. When he grows up, he can protect Mom and me with you! Our family will be together forever!” David affectionately ruffled Emily’s hair, saying with adoration, “I asked the doctor, it is a little brother in Mom’s tummy. Emily, you’re going to be a big sister soon!” “Yay!” I thought my heart had turned to stone, but seeing this warm, harmonious family scene, I felt a stabbing pain in my chest. The wife and child I had cherished were now someone else’s treasures. And I was just an outsider. I had given everything, only to end up with nothing. How ironic.

My appearance broke the harmonious scene. The three of them stopped smiling when they saw me. I walked towards Rachel, waving the divorce papers in my hand, and said calmly, “I’m here to talk to you about the divorce.” Rachel’s gentle expression immediately darkened. David shielded her behind him and scolded me, “Mr. Carter, Rachel is about to give birth soon. Please don’t trouble her at this time. Pregnant women can’t handle stress!” “Please step aside,” I said coldly to David, trying hard to control my anger. David took a righteous stance and argued, “Mr. Carter, I have no intention of breaking up your marriage. After the child is born, I’ll take him away. I won’t affect your relationship as husband and wife, and you shouldn’t blame Rachel for this. “Rachel did a noble thing. I’m over thirty with no wife or children. Rachel only carried a child for me out of pity for my loneliness. As a man, you should be more understanding!” I laughed at his shamelessness. “You’re right,” I said with a cold smile, “As a man, I should indeed be more understanding. Since that’s the case, why don’t I give you my wife and daughter too? Is that understanding enough?” David looked at me suspiciously. “Enough!” Rachel’s face was extremely unpleasant. She instructed David, “David, please take Emily for a walk. I need to talk to my husband alone.” After David and Emily left, Rachel stood up, holding her waist. She snatched the divorce papers from my hand, didn’t even look at them, and tore them to shreds. “Jack, I’ve told you I won’t divorce you. Give up on that idea! I’m due in half a month, don’t upset me and risk the baby at this critical time!” I bent down to pick up the paper scraps and calmly said, “In that case, I’ll have to file for divorce through the court.” Hearing my words, Rachel became agitated, “I’m pregnant now, the law won’t allow you to divorce me!” “The child isn’t mine.” “Even if it’s not yours, you can’t divorce me! You don’t have DNA evidence, the court won’t rule in your favor!” Faced with her stubbornness, I sighed helplessly, “Rachel, since you and David are in love, and now you’re carrying his child, why do you still refuse to divorce me?” Rachel paused for a few seconds, then softened her tone. She lowered her voice and said, “Jack, David and I grew up together. He’s liked me for over ten years and even stayed single for me. I couldn’t bear it, so I’m just having a child for him to fulfill his wish and leave him with something to remember me by.” “Honey, the one I love has always been you.” Her words didn’t move me. Instead, I found them laughable. She loves me, so she cheats on me? How can she be so righteous and shameless about it?

Actually, when they were younger, Rachel and David had liked each other, but before they could confess their feelings, David went abroad to study as arranged by his family. Later, Rachel met me in college. I fell for her first and pursued her. I persistently chased her for two years, and finally, at the age of twenty, she accepted my pursuit. We got married when we were twenty-four. For years after our marriage, I always treated her with the utmost care, afraid she might melt if I held her in my mouth, afraid she might break if I held her in my hands. I worked hard to earn money, just to provide her with a comfortable life. Six years after our marriage, which was the year I went to South Africa, David returned to the country. I thought my hard work away from home was for the family, but it also gave her and David a chance to rekindle their relationship. Eight years of marriage ultimately couldn’t withstand the test of time. My deep love for her couldn’t compete with her childhood bond with David. … Since Rachel refused to divorce, I had to put the matter aside for now. I stopped going home, busy with work every day and preparing for my move abroad. Before I knew it, it was time for Rachel to give birth. On the day Rachel went into labor, she called me in pain, urgently saying, “Honey, I’m about to give birth… Come to the hospital quickly!” I coldly replied, “The child isn’t mine, why should I come?” “You’re my husband!” she exclaimed. My mother-in-law took the phone from Rachel and scolded me, “The child may not be yours, but the wife is! Don’t you know childbirth is a matter of life and death? How can you be absent as her husband!” Rachel seemed to be trying hard to endure the pain, her voice trembling, “Honey, at a time like this… please stop being difficult, okay?” I felt these two women’s logic was beyond comprehension. I didn’t bother arguing and simply hung up the phone. I continued focusing on my work without distraction. A few hours later, my mother-in-law called again. This time, her tone was urgent, “Jack, your wife is having a difficult labor. The doctor says they need to do a C-section. I order you to come to the hospital immediately!” Unable to withstand my mother-in-law’s constant phone bombardment, I finally went to the hospital. When I arrived, my mother-in-law and Emily were anxiously waiting outside the delivery room. As soon as I arrived, my mother-in-law rushed over. “You’re finally here! Your wife is having a difficult labor, the doctor says they need to do a C-section. The hospital is asking for payment. Quick, go pay the surgery fee!” Without thinking, I refused, “I won’t pay.” My mother-in-law became agitated, “If you don’t pay, who will?” “Whoever the child belongs to should pay.” My mother-in-law cursed at me, “Jack, I never thought you could be so heartless! My Rachel has been married to you for so many years, given birth to your child, and now you disregard her life and death. You’ve really disappointed me!” Emily also pointed at me accusingly, “Bad Dad, if anything happens to Mom, I’ll never forgive you!” Faced with their condemnation, I remained unmoved. Just then, David, who was late in arriving, finally showed up.

As soon as David arrived, he paid the $15,000 medical fee for Rachel without hesitation. My mother-in-law praised him repeatedly, “Young David is reliable, a man of honor who values relationships. He’s worth entrusting with one’s life!” Then she turned to me with sarcasm, “You heartless thing. Rachel was truly blind to have chosen you back then!” David also mocked me, “Jack, you’ve really opened my eyes. You can be so cruel to your own wife. What kind of man are you!” Emily chimed in, “Bad Dad, you’re so mean! I’ll never call you Dad again!” Faced with the three of them berating me, my heart remained unmoved. When the heart is dead to a certain degree, it becomes immune to all poisons. Soon after, accompanied by a baby’s cry, the child was born successfully. David was so excited that tears welled up in his eyes, “It’s born… our Davis family has an heir now!” Soon, the nurse brought out the swaddled infant. “It’s a girl, 7 pounds 8 ounces!” Hearing this, the joy on David’s face instantly froze. Emily asked him puzzled, “Uncle David, didn’t you say Mom was having a little brother?” David was also in disbelief, “Nurse, are you sure you didn’t make a mistake?” “No mistake, it’s definitely a girl.” My mother-in-law looked at the baby in the nurse’s arms and scolded David disapprovingly, “So what if it’s a girl! David, are you discriminating against girls?” David waved his hands awkwardly. I coldly watched everything unfold before me, saying nothing. Just as I was about to leave, the delivery room door opened again. The doctor came out with blood-stained hands, urgently calling out, “The mother is hemorrhaging severely. We might need to remove her uterus. Who is her husband? Come sign the consent form quickly!” “What?” My mother-in-law was shocked, nearly collapsing to the ground. She hurriedly urged me, “Jack, quick, go sign!” I hesitated for a moment, then refused, “I can’t sign.” I knew very clearly that if I signed now, and Rachel lost her uterus later, she would definitely blame everything on me. I didn’t want to get involved in this mess. My mother-in-law stamped her feet in anger, cursing at me, “This is a matter of life and death! How can you be so cold-blooded? The woman lying in there is your wife!” “Not for much longer,” I said coldly. “What do you mean?” My mother-in-law glared at me, her nostrils flaring in anger. “How can you be so heartless!” “You’re her mother, you can sign too,” I said, looking at her coldly. “You… you!” My mother-in-law’s chest heaved violently. “Fine, I’ll sign! Once Rachel is out of danger, I’ll make sure she divorces you, you ungrateful, heartless man!” My mother-in-law had always looked down on me. Now that she had latched onto David as a son-in-law, she had even less regard for me. I nodded calmly, “Good, I’ll be waiting.” Emily ran over to me, crying and hitting me, “Bad Dad, I hate you! From now on, I’ll only recognize Uncle David as my dad. I won’t recognize you anymore!” I looked down at my young daughter, feeling a chill in my heart. She, who shared my blood, had abandoned me just because I had been away for two years and neglected to accompany her. Yet at this moment, her beloved Uncle David, whom she adored, wasn’t concerned about her mother at all. He just stared blankly at the baby in the nurse’s arms, muttering repeatedly, “It’s impossible… it was supposed to be a boy…”

When my mother-in-law returned after signing the consent form, David had already quietly left. After several hours of emergency treatment, Rachel finally escaped life-threatening danger, but she couldn’t keep her uterus. She was pushed out of the emergency room by a group of nurses, still unconscious. My mother-in-law was busy taking care of both the baby and Rachel, running around in a fluster. Taking advantage of her distraction, I secretly took a few strands of the baby’s hair. After leaving the hospital, I took the baby’s hair for a paternity test. Once the results came out, I immediately filed for divorce in court. It was time to end this absurd marriage. A few days later, Rachel was discharged from the hospital. After she recovered a bit, she called me. On the phone, she weakly questioned me, “Jack, I just came back from the brink of death, and you’re not even here to take care of me. Now you’re even filing for divorce?” “Isn’t divorce good?” I said sarcastically. “Your mom is happy about it too. She can’t wait for us to get divorced.”

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I’ve been with Emma Sinclair for ten years. I even tattooed her favorite flower, a gardenia, on my collarbone. She finally agreed to marry me, but she’s been keeping an 18-year-old college boy on the side. Before our wedding, she indulged the boy’s countdown to our breakup. She went bungee jumping with him, skiing, and even watched the Northern Lights in Iceland. But she doesn’t know that I don’t have much time left. I’ve booked a flight out of the country, donated all her assets, and had my tattoo removed. While she’s counting down the days to our wedding, I’m planning my escape. The day I was diagnosed with stomach cancer, Emma’s boy toy came to find me. “I know I’m the other man,” he said, his honesty terrifyingly sincere. He bit his lip, “Bro, I know you’re about to get married, but—” “Emma doesn’t love you anymore.” “I’ve been with her for a year. We’ve slept together 78 times, 53 times in hotels, 21 times at my place.” “And 4 times at your place, in your bed.” He looked at me directly, “If Emma still loved you, I wouldn’t exist.” I found it amusing. I lit a cigarette and looked at him through the smoke, “What else? Go on.” He took out his phone and played a video for me. The angle was discreet, as if secretly recorded. The boy was nestled in Emma’s arms, “Even if you’re marrying him out of responsibility, can’t you keep me too?” Emma pushed him away, tossing him a credit card, “Find a girl your own age. Being with me isn’t good for you.” “No!” He begged, holding her waist, “I’m not afraid of danger.” “Can’t you not let me go?” “Emma, I won’t be a burden to you, I promise.” Emma paused. Her gaze swept over his face, momentarily lost in thought. Then she leaned in to kiss him.

I stubbed out my cigarette. The boy had just turned eighteen, full of youth and genuinely handsome. And the moment I saw him, I knew. He looked like me. Like James Harper at eighteen. “You’re right about one thing. If Emma still loved me, you wouldn’t exist.” I stood up, my stomach actually hurting a bit. I leaned on the table for support, not letting it show. “But I advise you not to get in too deep. Emma never loved you, or me.” “She only loves the James in her memories.” The handsome, innocent James who died on the path of helping her climb to the top. “In a few years, she’ll find a new replacement. You’ll end up worse off than me.” Actually, I was lying to him. I’m about to die, how could he possibly be worse off than me? At most, he’ll just be used and discarded by Emma.

I got together with Emma when I was eighteen. I grew up without parents, and the grandmother who raised me passed away when I was fifteen. That’s when Emma appeared. She pursued me relentlessly. Throwing money around, wanting to give me the best of everything. Emma was beautiful and made me feel secure. I fell for her quickly. On my nineteenth birthday, she coaxed me into my first time. That night. From sobriety to intoxication. We became one. The next day, Emma took me to meet her group of friends. I had never been in such a setting before, so I quietly followed Emma, mimicking her greetings. Their gazes as they sized me up were full of mockery. “Emma, why did you pick up a college boy?” “He’s too naive, he’ll hold you back.” At that time, I didn’t understand what they meant by “hold you back.” I couldn’t help but protest softly, “I won’t.” “I won’t be a burden to Emma.” Definitely not. But later, as I gradually became exposed to Emma’s world, I realized what kind of life she was living. It was fraught with danger. To avoid holding Emma back, to stay by her side, I had to force myself to fit into that environment. Ten years. I dyed my hair, started smoking, got tattoos. I even ended up with countless scars. Because I was tough enough, I helped Emma climb to the position of second-in-command of the North Side gang. But Emma didn’t seem happy. Countless nights. She would curl up in my arms, her fingers tracing over my scars, then leaning in to kiss them. “James.” She buried her face in my chest, sighing, “I still prefer the you from back then.” And I would always pause, then push her away and light a cigarette. Laughing bitterly. “Emma, you’re so fucking heartless to say that.”

Emma came home in the early hours of the morning. I was lying in bed, not really asleep. Just staring into the darkness. Until Emma snuggled into my arms. “Still awake?” She leaned up to kiss me but missed. After a moment’s pause, she hugged me, suppressing her temper, “Who upset you? I’ll take care of them, okay?” “Emma.” “Hmm.” The room was so dark I couldn’t see her face. But I could smell the gardenia scent on her. “Let’s break up.” Emma’s body stiffened, then she let go and rolled away, “What’s wrong now?” She rubbed her temples impatiently, “We’re not kids anymore, why are you being so sensitive?” “Break up?” She laughed, “James, you’re not young anymore. Who would want to marry a man who smokes, drinks, has tattoos, and does dirty work?” My chest ached. I pressed hard against my heart, but couldn’t suppress the sharp pain. Last year when I had stitches in my arm, I was allergic to anesthesia. Twelve stitches, sewn without numbing, and I didn’t make a sound. But Emma’s few honest words, fueled by alcohol, brought tears to my eyes. “Emma,” I couldn’t help but want to ask her, “If I had a terminal illness, would you—” “James.” She cut me off, her brow furrowed with impatience, “Stop asking such pointless questions.” “If you really had a terminal illness, would you want me to commit suicide with you?” She rubbed her forehead, “I’m busy with the wedding and business lately. I don’t have the energy to coddle you, so stop being dramatic.” As she spoke, her phone suddenly rang. Emma irritably hung up. But the caller persisted. After a few back-and-forths, Emma got out of bed with her phone, “What is it?” The boy’s voice came through the receiver, indistinct. Emma sighed, “What a hassle.” Despite her words, she hurriedly left the room. “There’s a problem with the business, I need to go deal with it.” “Go to sleep, don’t wait up for me.”

Emma and I set our wedding date for the third of next month. It was to be a simple ceremony. I never told Emma about my illness. Terminal stage, basically incurable. I also never told Emma that I had no intention of marrying her. I could accept everything about Emma. Except for betrayal. The thought of her nestling in another man’s arms, kissing his face, searching for traces of my younger self in him, made my stomach churn. It was sickening. I’ve been with Emma since I was eighteen, a full ten years now. The doctors say I have about six months left to live. By that calculation, I’ve wasted nearly half my life on her. For the little time I have left, I just want to be James Harper. I’ve booked a flight out of the country. While I still have the strength, I want to see the world I’ve always loved but never had the chance to explore. And the flight is scheduled for the third of next month.

Early in the morning, I crossed off another day on the calendar. Ten days left until my departure. I heard the door open behind me. Emma came in, wrapped in snow and wind. She took off her coat and came to hug me. She still didn’t like my hair. Her gaze followed mine to the calendar. Emma looked at the heavily circled date and laughed softly, gently pinching my cheek, “Can’t wait to marry me, huh?” She counted the days, “Just ten more.” She buried her face in my neck, “I’ll find some time in the next couple of days to help you dye your hair back to black and get it styled, okay?” “You’ll look so handsome at the wedding.” “No need.” I stared at the calendar expressionlessly, “Not much time left.” “This hairstyle is fine as it is.” Emma was silent for a while, “Okay.” She let go and picked up her coat from the chair, “There’s a lot to do for the wedding. One of our clubs got trashed yesterday, I’ll be busy for a while, so I won’t be coming home.” Emma watched me as she spoke. As if waiting for me to give in. Waiting for me to say, okay, come with me to dye my hair, to get it styled. But I just looked back at her coldly. “Go ahead.” “After all, there’s only ten days left.” Emma said nothing, turning to step into the night. She didn’t look back.

Seven days before the wedding. I went to a tattoo parlor in the suburbs. The owner was a woman in her thirties, well-maintained but with world-weary eyes. She glanced at me, “What do you want tattooed?” I rolled up my sleeve, pointing to the “ES” on my wrist bone, then exposed the gardenia below my collarbone. “Remove them both.” The owner looked, “Removing them will be painful, and it’ll leave scars.” I smiled, “I’m not afraid.” Pain is the least of my worries now. As for scars— I have so many scars all over my body, what’s two more? Besides, in half a year, this body might just be ashes. The owner chatted with me, “Broke up?” I smiled, “Yeah, soon.” “Seven days left.” The owner clicked her tongue, “So ceremonial, even a countdown for the breakup?” Perhaps because the shop was so quiet, or maybe because I felt a connection with the owner, somehow, I felt like we were kindred spirits from the first glance. I told her about my past. Back when Emma was pursuing me, I gave her a deadline. Three hundred days. If she could persist, I’d be with her. So, every morning when Emma appeared before me, she’d count the days. “Countdown: one hundred and seventy-nine days.” “James, ninety-six days left, and you’ll be my boyfriend.” “One day left, almost-boyfriend.” … The girl who persisted through rain or shine for three hundred days to win me over. Yet in the ten years that followed. She gradually grew tired. I got along well with the owner, Lily. As she removed my tattoos, I told her the meaning behind them. The “ES” on my wrist bone was tattooed a year after Emma and I got together. I had been kidnapped by her enemies, used to threaten her. Emma came alone to save me. Knowing it was a deadly trap, she went without hesitation. That time, she nearly died. When she was discharged from the hospital, I went to a tattoo parlor and had her initials tattooed on my wrist bone. I naively thought then. I’d dedicate my life to Emma. But that night, when I proudly showed my still-red wrist to Emma, she was stunned. There was no emotion I had imagined. She frowned, first asking why, then if it hurt. Finally, she hugged me, “Don’t do this again, I don’t like it.” “I don’t like you hurting yourself.” “You’re perfect as you are, you don’t need to change. I love the clean, flawless James.” I was young then, thought she was just concerned for me. Little did I know, Emma had already spoken her true feelings. The gardenia on my chest was tattooed when Emma swore she’d marry me when she turned twenty-eight. Emma loved gardenias, loved their pure white petals. So I tattooed it on my chest. Waiting for Emma to marry me. Now, Emma has finally set the wedding date in my twenty-eighth year, she’s planning our wedding seven days from now. While I’m planning how to leave her. Though this body is already in ruins, I still don’t want to leave with any marks related to her. I pointed to the other side below my collarbone, telling Lily. “Tattoo a trumpet creeper flower here.” Emma loves gardenias. But I prefer trumpet creepers. She wants me naive and ignorant. But in the little time I have left, I want to be like the trumpet creeper, proud and climbing high walls.

It was evening when I left the tattoo parlor. Lily and I got along well, we exchanged contact information and added each other on SnapChat. On my way home, I passed a cotton candy stand. I couldn’t help but stop. The last time I had it was probably when I was a child, when my grandmother was still alive. She would take out all the change she had to buy me some when I couldn’t move from craving it so much. She always watched me eat it all, then teasingly called me a “little glutton.” Grandma always loved to watch me smile. Her wrinkles deepening on her aged face as she smiled. A cold wind blew, scattering the memories. I walked to the stand and bought a rabbit-shaped cotton candy. It was sweet. As sickeningly sweet as I remembered. Passing a street corner, I heard a boy asking loudly, “Mom, look, that guy looks so cool! But why is he eating cotton candy?” “Isn’t that for kids?” The mom laughed and explained, “Who says cotton candy is only for kids? Everyone can eat it. Having something sweet makes people happier.” I walked by quietly. Then I heard a little girl’s innocent voice, “But, even after eating such sweet cotton candy, why doesn’t the guy look happy at all?” “Mom, he looks so lonely…” The voices faded away. By the time I got home, the cotton candy was gone, leaving only sticky hands. I went in and washed my hands. Then I received a call from Emma. She sounded drunk. “James.” “Yes?” She laughed a little on the other end, “Seven days left, and you’ll be marrying me.” “Tomorrow, will you come with me to choose a wedding dress?” “You can choose, you know my size.” Emma was silent for a moment. I faintly heard a man’s voice on the other end, “Emma, I’ll go with you to try on wedding dresses. Don’t you want me to see how you look in a wedding dress?”

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I was the most devoted follower of Aria Johnson. For ten years, I transformed her from an unknown talent into a world-renowned pianist. Yet, when she reached the pinnacle of success, I chose to walk away. Everyone called me a fool. Only I knew that it was time to end this decade-long secret love. Later, the internet exploded with videos of the top pianist’s engagement party—Aria Johnson, treading on the shards of her million-dollar wedding dress, searching for me with tear-filled eyes. When I submitted my resignation, Aria’s slender fingers paused on the piano keys. She turned to me, her beautiful eyes filled with confusion: “Why?” Standing by the floor-to-ceiling window of the music room, I struggled to keep my voice steady: “Miss Johnson, I’m not getting any younger. It’s time for me to settle down.” After a pause, I added: “Recently, a relative back home introduced me to a suitable match.” To ensure a smooth resignation, I fabricated a harmless lie. Aria’s fingers tapped lightly on the keys, a habit she had when agitated. Scattered notes echoed in the room, as if telling a story. Seeing her slightly frustrated expression, a bittersweet sense of satisfaction welled up inside me. After a long moment, Aria placed the resignation letter on the piano: “I can give you a vacation. Please reconsider the resignation.” At that moment, my resolve wavered. A voice kept tempting me: “Stay, stay, and you can always be by her side.” But reason told me: “Simon, she’s getting engaged to Xavier. Pining for a married woman is not right.” My hand hesitated in the air for a long time, but ultimately, I didn’t take back the letter: “Being a manager is too demanding. After marriage, I want a more stable life.” “I’ll hand over all my work properly. I’m sorry, Miss Johnson.” With that said, Aria didn’t press further, only saying softly: “I understand. Congratulations on your upcoming marriage.” Before I left the music room, Aria had already immersed herself back into her world of piano. To her, I was probably just the most competent among her many staff members. That day, I sat in the break room, staring at her concert photo on the wall, allowing myself to let my mind wander for the first time. In the past, I was always so busy that I barely had time to drink water. I had to handle her performance schedules and take care of her daily needs. I had to be available at all times, ready to rush to her side at a moment’s notice, single-handedly doing the work of multiple people. Of course, she compensated me generously, allowing me to buy a house in the city over the years. Charlie called my name several times before I snapped back to reality. “Simon, Miss Johnson said to go to the club first to set up tonight’s party.” The evening party was to celebrate Yvette Young’s return from the Vienna Conservatory. All the attendees were from Aria’s social circle. The young generation of elite social circles, born with silver spoons in their mouths, had their noses in the air. Logically, their circle should have been exclusive, but there was no helping it—I was simply too capable. A manager who could both take care of everyone’s emotions and arrange events perfectly was truly rare. Upon arriving at the club, I immediately immersed myself in the preparations. From the vintage of the wine to the placement of cutlery, and even the dietary restrictions of each guest, I arranged everything meticulously. “Replace the champagne with sparkling water, Mr. Leaf is on the wagon.” “Turn up the air conditioning, Mrs. Chu gets cold easily.” “Remember to prepare aged Pu’er tea, Miss Han loves it.” As night fell, guests began to arrive. Yvette was the first to arrive, greeting me as soon as she saw me: “When will Aria get here?” I glanced at my watch, answering cautiously: “She’s still rehearsing at the Vienna Concert Hall. She should be here in about an hour.” She slumped onto the leather sofa, fatigue evident in her eyes, her complexion slightly pale. I had the staff lower the music volume and brought over a cashmere blanket: “The autumn night is chilly. Please rest for a while, the others won’t be here for some time.” She took the blanket, joking: “Why don’t you stop working for Aria and become my butler instead? I’ll double your salary.” In this circle, there were too many sycophants, which made my neither obsequious nor arrogant attitude particularly precious. I joked back: “Thank you, Miss Young. At least I’ll have a backup plan if I ever lose my job.” As the night deepened and the lights brightened, all the guests arrived. Aria arrived in a black evening gown, gracefully walking in on high heels, exuding elegance with a hint of coolness. I took her coat, thinking this might be the last time I’d serve her. After several rounds of drinks, I seized the opportunity to announce my resignation to everyone. Raising my glass, I sincerely said: “Thank you all for your care over the years. Until we meet again.” A moment of silence fell over the table, then Yvette raised her glass to break the quiet: “To be honest, at first we thought you had ulterior motives towards Aria. Now it seems we were overthinking it.” Everyone understood the implication of her words. After all, Aria’s previous managers had all been fired for confessing their feelings to her. Later, she simply hired only female managers, but surprisingly, even a male assistant secretly passed her a love letter, which became a joke for a while. Someone teased: “I didn’t think anyone could resist Aria’s charm.” Aria elegantly sipped her wine, chuckling softly: “How boring.” After dinner, a few people gathered to drink and chat. During the conversation, Yvette casually asked: “Aria, I heard Mr. Yang is quite interested in you?” My hand froze, the motion of pouring wine for Aria suspended in mid-air. After a moment, she answered nonchalantly: “It’s just an arranged marriage. Marrying anyone is the same.” In their circle, marriage had always been a bond of interests, with feelings being the least important factor. It seemed she had accepted this arrangement, fulfilling her family’s expectations without question. I had met Xavier Yang. A rising star in the business world, young and promising, indeed a good match. How I wished Aria could have a different ending, but reality often disappoints. The party continued late into the night, with the guests’ drivers waiting for a long time. Only Aria’s driver was delayed due to an unexpected issue. So we stood at the entrance of the club, our shadows elongated by the streetlights. These moments of being alone were the most dangerous, as those suppressed feelings always threatened to burst forth. But Aria just stood quietly, the alcohol making her less aloof than usual. Soon, the driver arrived. Aria turned to look at me: “Want to come along?” I shook my head, putting on a polite smile: “Thank you, Miss Johnson, but my fiancée is on her way here.” She nodded and gracefully slipped into the car. Finally alone, I loosened my tie and leaned against the edge of a planter. For a moment, I didn’t know where to go or what to do. The autumn rain came unexpectedly, fine droplets falling coldly on my suit. I stood by the street waiting for a cab, which was hard to come by in this high-end neighborhood. …… Due to road construction, the driver had to take a detour. Aria didn’t expect to see Simon again. He stood in the rain, his suit jacket draped over his arm, looking somewhat forlorn. She was slightly taken aback, having never seen the usually meticulous Manager Shaw so casual. At the company, he always wore a well-pressed suit, his tie invariably knotted impeccably at his neck. She had encountered too many men who deliberately showcased their charm, loosening their ties, exposing their collarbones and abs, pretending to be casual in front of her. But Manager Shaw was different. His professional competence and perfectly measured demeanor had made her decide to keep him by her side. As the car was about to pass, the driver in the front seat spoke up: “Do you want to give Manager Shaw a ride?” Aria’s gaze remained calm as she replied indifferently: “Never mind.” She had a poor impression of his tardy fiancée. Although Manager Shaw was usually astute, he seemed to lack judgment when it came to matters of the heart. But this was his personal affair, and she shouldn’t interfere too much. In the distance, what seemed to be Aria’s car flashed by, disappearing in an instant. Perhaps it was just my imagination. In such a high-end residential area, people walking like me were indeed rare. The rain had soaked my clothes. My legs were numb by the time I finally hailed a taxi. It was late when I got home, the silence in the apartment suffocating. I always told people that I had a perfect family, a deeply loved fiancée, and many close friends. Others said my life was perfect, enviable. But in reality, I had nothing – no family, no lover, no friends. In middle school, my dad was diagnosed with late-stage lung cancer. Shortly after the surgery, the cancer recurred. One ordinary morning, my mom left as usual, never to return. She took all our savings, leaving behind only my critically ill father and young me. Upon learning of this blow, my dad was surprisingly calm, silently accepting treatment. When his condition improved during hospitalization, he would even cook for me. That day after school, I came home to find the table full of dishes, my dad sitting across from me with a gentle smile. For some reason, a sense of unease welled up. The dishes emitted an unusual smell. I noticed the newly bought bottle of pesticide in the kitchen. At that moment, I realized that even terminally ill people could summon incredible strength, rendering me motionless. Taking advantage of his violent coughing fit, I broke free from his grip and fled to the rooftop in panic. My dad, tears streaming down his face, reached out to me, his voice choked: “Son, this world is too cruel. I can’t bear to leave you to face it alone.” “Let’s go together. In the next life, we’ll be father and son again.” Tears blurred my vision. I was exhausted, longing to smell the familiar tobacco scent on my dad’s body once more. Perhaps ending it all wouldn’t be so bad. After all, there seemed to be no hope in living. On the wind-swept rooftop, my dad’s embrace was the only warmth. He held my hand tightly as we slowly approached the edge. Just as we were about to fall, a pair of slender yet strong hands firmly grabbed me. She held onto me tightly, refusing to let go no matter how much I struggled. Swaying in the fierce wind, I only remember those eyes shining with determination. I survived, but my dad was gone forever. The person who saved me was Aria Johnson. She not only gave me life but also gave me a reason to keep living— To repay her kindness. I felt guilty for letting my father down. At that time, I was like a drowning man, desperately trying to grasp at a lifeline. And Aria was my beacon of hope. When the rescue team arrived, I tightly held her hand, looking up and asking: “How can I thank you?” The 14-year-old Aria looked down at me and said seriously: “Just come find me in the future.” From that night when I lost my father, my life seemed to come to a standstill, with only Aria as my driving force to move forward. Tonight, I was once again awakened by nightmares, reliving past events. In the dream, my father questioned why I had abandoned him, and my mother’s cold gaze as she left still pained me. I woke up drenched in sweat, my throat too hoarse to make a sound. The thermometer showed 101.8°F. Usually, I might have just taken some fever medicine and continued working, pretending nothing was wrong. But this time, I decided to take a sick day and really think about the direction of my life. …… Aria arrived at the music room to find that Simon had called in sick. She frowned, her impression of his fiancée worsening. Assistant Lily temporarily took over Simon’s duties, bringing Aria a cup of rose tea. Aria elegantly took a sip, her expression unchanged. The tea was weaker than usual, but she didn’t comment, simply putting down the cup and not drinking anymore. During the morning rehearsal, she made a mistake. Fortunately, she knew this piece by heart, avoiding a bigger issue. The room temperature was slightly high, the humidifier running continuously, causing her throat to feel dry. By the end of the day, though she couldn’t pinpoint exactly what went wrong, she felt like something was missing. For the first time, Aria seriously thought about Simon. She rarely paid attention to him normally, as he was always so low-key. He handled everything just right, like spring rain nourishing all things, silently and imperceptibly. It was as if she had never been there, yet everything was perfect. She frowned slightly, already the second time today. It was all because of Simon’s unworthy fiancée, who had snatched away her most capable manager. …… After tossing and turning all day, I still couldn’t figure out which direction to take. Like a lost butterfly, unable to find its way home in the dark night. The next morning, I still went to the music room as usual. As I opened the door, Lily nervously approached me, lowering her voice: “Miss Johnson isn’t in a good mood this morning. She didn’t even touch her favorite rose tea.” Yesterday’s cup of tea was still on the windowsill. I gently sniffed it and told Lily: “Use six fresh roses, water at 176°F, steep for three minutes. Not a minute more or less.” I carefully demonstrated each step of making the tea, with Lily observing closely. As the floral fragrance filled the air, Aria walked in. For a fleeting moment, I thought I caught a glimpse of tenderness in her eyes as she looked at me, and a hint of a pout on her lips. The handover of work was far more complicated than anticipated. I had numerous tasks at hand, making it difficult to transfer everything at once. Moreover, Aria had always been demanding, requiring meticulous attention to every detail of her daily life. I decided to get a notebook and record everything from adjusting the temperature in the music room to coordinating her performance outfits. This delay pushed back the originally planned one-month handover, resulting in a situation I had hoped to avoid. Accompanying Xavier Yang to the old mansion. Harboring inappropriate feelings for Aria, I felt guilty facing her future husband, even though I had done nothing wrong. Xavier wore a custom-tailored suit, a understated yet luxurious Patek Philippe on his wrist, his hair impeccably styled, every gesture exuding the aura of a successful businessman. I put on my professional smile and greeted him: “Mr. Yang, Miss Johnson arranged for me to pick you up.” On the way, Xavier kept asking about Aria, understandably nervous about getting engaged to someone he had never met. Sensing his anxiety, I gently reassured him: “Miss Johnson is very kind. You needn’t worry, Mr. Yang. If you have any concerns, feel free to ask me.” He looked at me gratefully. We chatted casually until we reached the old mansion. I had intended to leave after dropping him off. However, Mrs. Johnson, Aria’s grandmother, called me back. She was a renowned iron lady in the music world. Despite being in her seventies, she remained spirited, with piercing eyes. “Simon, where’s Aria?” Aria hadn’t come? I maintained my composure, answering cautiously: “There were some last-minute changes in the rehearsal schedule. Miss Johnson might be a bit late.” Mrs. Johnson snorted coldly, instructing me to make sure to bring her. I had witnessed how Mrs. Johnson punished Aria before, forcing her to practice piano for six hours straight until her fingers bled. Even now, Aria’s fingertips still bore those scars. After leaving, I immediately called Aria, thankfully getting through on the third try. I anxiously asked for her location, but she remained silent for a long time, only softly calling my name: “Simon.” Her voice was a bit slurred, as if she had been drinking. I could hear melodious piano music in the background. I instantly knew where she was and rushed there— I found Aria leaning against a grand piano in a bar, several glasses of whiskey in front of her, her long black hair cascading in the dim light. Hearing footsteps, she looked up slightly, her gaze hazy yet still cool, maintaining a bit of sobriety in her drunken state. “You’re here? Wait a moment, I’ll finish soon.” She patted the piano bench, gesturing for me to sit down: “Keep me company for a while.” The Johnson family’s concert hall stood in a bustling area, its lights glittering in the night, the classical European-style architecture exuding an air of nobility. Aria suddenly spoke: “Do you think it’s beautiful?” My gaze was still fixed on her perfect profile, and I blurted out without thinking: “Beautiful.” I blushed immediately, fortunately, she didn’t notice and continued speaking: “The surface glamour is just decoration for a cage. Even the most brilliant stage can’t confine a truly free soul.” She said this with a smile, but her tone was unusually serious. It was said that the Johnson family’s music business wasn’t entirely above board, with some shady deals behind the scenes, only recently starting to transform. Over the past decade, I had witnessed her step-by-step ascent to the pinnacle of the international piano world. The setbacks and pressures she endured during this time were something outsiders could never know. I couldn’t help but ask: “Are you happy?” The word “happy” seemed to linger on her lips. She chuckled softly but didn’t answer directly. Instead, she looked at me and said: “Your fiancée doesn’t deserve you.” I was stunned. She immediately lowered her head: “I’m sorry, I spoke out of turn.” Finishing her last sip of alcohol, Aria stood up, instantly reverting to the noble and elegant pianist she was known to be. On the way back, I kept pondering the meaning behind her words. After much thought, I still couldn’t understand, just as I never understood why she had appeared alone on the rooftop of that dilapidated apartment building years ago. But none of this mattered anymore. I was about to leave this place. From now on, separated by mountains and waters, we would rarely meet again. It was raining on the day I left my job. The rain in the north is always heavy and sudden, pitter-pattering on the ground as if trying to release all emotions. I sat in the music room, quietly packing up my belongings from the manager’s office. I had spent nearly ten springs and autumns in this position, transforming from a naive youth into a capable manager. I knew that every day at 3 PM, sunlight would stream through the floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing the Steinway piano in a warm glow. I also knew that if I stood in the corner of the music room, I could hear Aria’s breathing as she practiced. These fragments were once the most precious solace in my life, but now, it was time to let go. The debt of gratitude had been repaid. Ten years of time, the days ahead would be for Xavier to protect. Lily watched me with reddened eyes. I ruffled her hair, smiling as I said: “Don’t be like this. We’ll meet again someday.” But deep down, I knew this goodbye was likely forever. This city held too many bitter memories. I needed to find a new beginning. As I left, a part of me still held onto a glimmer of hope, but ultimately, I couldn’t see her one last time. After resigning, I shut myself in my rented apartment and slept for days on end, as if trying to make up for all the sleep I had missed over the years. I bought alcohol and turned the stereo up to maximum volume. The stereo played Aria’s piano pieces. I laughed, laughed like a madman. After laughing, I sat numbly on the floor, staring blankly at the room full of sheet music. When I was young, my greatest wish was to survive. As long as I lived well, my dad wouldn’t jump off the building. Later, after dad was gone, my wish was to work hard so that mom wouldn’t give up on herself. Then mom left too, and I poured all my energy into work, wishing only to contribute to Aria’s music career. Now, I had lost my direction, not knowing where to go. Just as I was lost in thought, the doorbell suddenly rang. Looking through the peephole, I was shocked to see Aria standing outside.

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I have a limp, a result of an injury I sustained while saving my childhood sweetheart when we were young. Despite being treated differently because of my disability, James Parker, my childhood love, promised to always be good to me. I believed him wholeheartedly. Until one day, I saw a girl corner him against a wall, attempting to kiss him. He turned his head to avoid it. The girl’s eyes reddened. “James, I don’t believe you’re not attracted to me!” James gritted his teeth and then kissed her forcefully. I’ve had a limp since I was a child, but everyone said I was lucky because I had James Parker, my childhood sweetheart who loved me dearly. James was the epitome of youth – handsome, smart, athletically gifted, and popular with girls. His only flaw, according to some, was having a disabled childhood sweetheart – me. Whenever someone said this, James would angrily rebuke them. “Lily’s leg was injured while saving me. I don’t want to hear you talk about her like that.” Each time he said this, he’d pull me into his arms. Listening to his heartbeat, I truly believed he was my prince charming, descending from heaven to save me. But I forgot that not everyone who rides a white horse is a prince. James and I started having problems in our sophomore year of college. It began when I watched a mixed doubles tennis match between him and his underclassman partner, Emma White. They had perfect chemistry and won the gold medal in the college tournament. Their high-five after winning, Emma handing James a towel, and the loving look in her eyes when she gazed at him all made me feel uneasy. But when James hung his gold medal around my neck and invited me to their tennis team’s celebration party, I forced myself to suppress my discomfort. I told myself to trust James. But at the party, when I saw Emma casually picking up James’s drink and about to sip from it, my carefully maintained composure finally cracked. I put my hand between Emma’s mouth and the bottle. “Isn’t this James’s drink? Did you grab the wrong one?” The lively atmosphere suddenly went quiet for a moment before resuming. James’s teammate laughed it off: “Emma must be too excited; she grabbed the wrong drink.” But Emma’s eyes showed no amusement as she put the drink back. The incident was brushed off with laughter, but it left me feeling unsettled. My unease reached its peak as James walked me back to my dorm that night. Because of my leg, James always walked slowly to match my pace. After hesitating, I brought up the incident at dinner. But James interrupted me: “It’s nothing, she probably just grabbed the wrong drink by mistake. Don’t worry about it.” His words caught in my throat, leaving me unable to express my concerns. My heart ached, and I had to force back tears of frustration. James took my hand and kissed it twice, telling me not to worry and insisting that he and Emma were just friends from the tennis team. His sincere gaze made me want to believe him again. I really, really wanted to trust him – if only I hadn’t later seen them kissing in a hidden corner. It was after another tennis match where James and Emma had won. I was looking for James with a water bottle and towel. Strangely, he wasn’t celebrating with his teammates. I noticed Emma was missing too. Pushing down my growing anxiety, I massaged my right leg, which was aching from standing too long, and continued searching. Perhaps my disappointment had reached its limit because when I saw Emma pressing James against a wall, I felt surprisingly numb. Emma’s coquettish voice rang out. “James, stop denying it. You like me.” James had one hand on her shoulder, as if to push her away, while the other clutched his newly won mixed doubles medal. He seemed to sigh. “Don’t do this,” he said. Emma’s voice began to break. “I don’t believe it. You don’t really like that childhood sweetheart of yours. I know you like me.” With that, she tilted her head up to kiss him. I clutched the water bottle tightly, silently praying for James to push her away. But he didn’t. James accepted Emma’s kiss, even lowering his head to deepen it. The medal that should have been mine, that should have been hanging around my neck, was now draped over Emma’s, alongside her own. As they moved passionately, the two medals clinked together, creating a clear, crisp sound. It was hauntingly beautiful. James and I had known each other since we were very young. Back then, he was the leader of our neighborhood kids, and I remember following him around everywhere. One day, while playing on a small hill, he slipped and started to fall. I quickly grabbed him, but being too weak, we both tumbled down the slope. James was fine, but I cushioned his fall with my body, and my right leg exploded in excruciating pain. I passed out from the agony. When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed, surrounded by my parents’ concerned faces and James’s parents’ guilty expressions. My right leg was in a thick cast. The doctor told me that I might never be able to run and jump like other children again. Hearing this devastating news, I felt my world turn gray. I had always loved sports, and the thought of never being able to play normally again was worse than death. But then James pushed through the adults. He wiped away my tears and the gloom from my eyes. With his young, apologetic voice, he said to me, “Don’t be sad, Lily. From now on, I’ll be your legs.” He promised to take care of me until I no longer needed him, which helped ease my parents’ anger. James was indeed a sports prodigy. He excelled on the field, winning countless awards from childhood through adolescence. I could only sit in the stands, watching him triumphantly receive his prizes. Although I knew the accident wasn’t his fault, I couldn’t help but wonder: if I hadn’t saved him that day, would I be the one winning awards now? But I would shake off these thoughts because James would always hang his heavy medals around my neck. His neck glistening with sweat, his breath carrying the vibrant energy of youth, he would look at me with bright, moist eyes and say something that went straight to my heart. Holding the medal draped over my neck, he’d say proudly, “Lily, from now on, all my medals belong to you too.” I think that’s when he truly entered my heart, like a gentle breeze full of youthful vigor, quickly taking root and blossoming. After that, James began competing frequently, always giving me all his medals. His mother once joked, “People might think our Lily won these awards herself!” James shot her a fierce glare, and his mother, realizing her mistake, fell silent. Because of my leg injury, I had few friends. I spent most of my time quietly reading and waiting for James. James confessed his feelings to me on a summer evening in our sophomore year of high school. He asked me to meet him downstairs in our neighborhood. Amid the summer cicadas’ song, I slowly made my way down, my neck damp with a fine sheen of sweat. Just as I steadied myself, before I could even make out his silhouette, I felt a cool metal medal being placed around my neck. It was the medal from his recent tennis tournament. Tennis was my favorite sport, and James had won this for me. “I already have many medals,” I said slowly, looking at him. James rubbed his nose, seeming a bit nervous. “That’s not what I wanted to talk about.” I gazed at him silently as he struggled to find the words. The early summer breeze was still mild, not yet oppressively hot. A gust of wind tousled my bangs, and just as I was about to brush them aside, James leaned in and gently kissed my forehead. “Lily, let’s be together,” he said, his voice trembling. My eyes widened slowly, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might burst. “Okay,” I heard myself say, trying to sound calm. How strange, I thought. Spring had already passed, yet my heart was in full bloom. Life after getting together with James didn’t seem to change much. Our friends had long assumed we were a couple anyway. Although James was a sports prodigy, he struggled with his academic subjects. Heaven had closed one door for me physically but opened a window intellectually. My grades were excellent. I was genuinely concerned about James’s academic performance because I wanted us to attend the same university. So, after finishing my own studies each day, I spent extra time figuring out how to help James improve his grades. Though the process was challenging, we eventually made it into the same university, thanks in part to his sports credits. I thought we would be happy forever, but I was too naive.

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After Yelena Sullivan, the youngest daughter of the Sullivan family, lost her sight, my older brother Ethan Lambert broke off their engagement and went abroad. My parents had no choice but to send me, their adopted son, to live with her as compensation. For five years, I meticulously cared for Yelena until her vision was finally restored. Just as Yelena and I were about to get married, Ethan showed up at the wedding with a bouquet of flowers, knelt on one knee, and confessed his love to her in a voice thick with emotion. Yelena, who had always been cold and distant, burst into tears. She threw away her wedding ring, rushed off the stage, and blamed Ethan for why he had waited until now to come back for her. At that moment, all the guests were laughing at me. I simply changed out of my wedding attire and quietly gave up the ceremony to them. Yelena praised me for being understanding and generous, insisting it was all a charade and promising her husband’s title would belong to me always. I smiled but said nothing, booking a one-way ticket abroad. Yelena had no idea that the care I gave her all those years was nothing more than a paid job. Now that Yelena’s old flame had returned, it was time for me to live my own life.

As soon as I stepped off the stage, I heard Ethan explain, “Lena, I was diagnosed with cancer back then. I didn’t want to burden you with my worries, so I went abroad, but I never expected it to be all just a misunderstanding. “You regained your sight because I prayed for you day and night. “I’ve always loved you, and that hasn’t changed.” My mother, Maria Lambert, pushed me aside, took Yelena’s hand, and told her how deeply Ethan loved her. “Ethan truly loved you and didn’t want to trouble you. Now that the misunderstanding is cleared up, you should get back together.” But the truth was, they all knew Ethan had despised Yelena’s blindness and refused to marry a blind woman. That’s why he’d resorted to threatening suicide to force her into breaking off their engagement before running off abroad. My parents didn’t want to sever the long-standing relationship between the Lambert and Sullivan families, so they hoped I would marry Yelena. Now that Yelena’s sight had returned, Ethan was eager to come back and elope with her. Thankfully, Yelena saw through his lies. After all, during her darkest days of self-harm and psychosis, he’d never visited once. Instead, he’d even rubbed salt in her wounds, cruelly saying he had never loved her. During the five years of Yelena’s blindness, I had been by her side, taking care of her day and night. I told her stories, guided her steps, and became her eyes. I’d felt so certain, but the next moment, I saw Yelena, tears in her eyes, take Ethan’s hand and choke with sobs. “I knew there was a reason.” Watching them hold hands tightly, I was stunned and could only smile bitterly. How naive I’d been! Ethan was her great love, the man she’d nearly died for. How could a substitute like me ever replace him? Seeing them reconcile, Maria breathed a sigh of relief. But the moment she turned and noticed me still standing there, her patience vanished. She shot me an irritated look and snapped, “Why are you still here? You’ve had ten years of living Ethan’s life. Are you still trying to steal his wife now?” My parents, who had been so gentle with me in my childhood memories, now looked at me with hatred. They pushed me away and shoved me out the door, scolding me, and I couldn’t help but feel heartbroken. Back then, when Ethan went missing, they were devastated, so they adopted me because I looked like him. For those ten years, I had parents who doted on me endlessly and a childhood sweetheart, Yelena, who was as close to me as anyone could be. It was the happiest time of my life. But Ethan’s return shattered my illusion. My parents felt I had stolen the love meant for Ethan, and they despised me. Even Yelena, who’d vowed to marry me, chose him. Under the weight of their hostile stares, I lowered my head, feeling utterly alone. Still, they had raised me, and I didn’t even have the right to protest. As I nodded and turned to leave, Yelena finally noticed my lonely figure. She raised an eyebrow at my parents and said, “Mr. Harrison Lambert, Mrs. Maria Lambert, there’s no need to be so harsh. What do you mean by ‘steal’? He’s my husband, and no one can replace him.” Watching Yelena slowly approach me, a touch of gratitude rose in my heart. She still favored me, just like when we were children. Yelena took my hand and whispered, “Zach, I was just putting on an act with him. We’ll go skiing soon, just like you’ve always wanted.” Ethan, who had followed Yelena over, sneered when he heard this. I could only smile bitterly in silence. We had grown up together, but how could she forget that I suffered a concussion from a skiing accident as a child? Since then, I developed a phobia of the sport and dreaded it. Skiing was Ethan’s passion, not mine. So, I was still Ethan’s substitute, and that had never changed. Ethan clapped my shoulder with a smile. “Alright. We’ll make it a trio.” My parents pulled Yelena aside and said, “Don’t let this outsider ruin your marriage.” Yelena wrenched her hands free and leaned in, whispering softly in my ear, “Don’t overthink it. It’s been five years since he dumped me, and I’m not about to let it go. I just need these five days to make him pay. “Once everything’s settled, we’ll get married and live happily ever after.” I nodded, watching them depart. Just then, a message from my boss popped up on my phone: [Zachary, the headquarters in Mercado is impressed with you. They want you to work there. If you’re okay with it, you’ll leave in five days.] I looked up at the stage where Yelena posed with Ethan’s family, radiant and whole. They were the real family, and I’d always been an outsider. Swallowing my pain, I replied: [No problem. On my way to finalize.]

Seeing how quickly I replied, my boss asked curiously: [Aren’t you getting married today? Take time to discuss with your wife and come back tomorrow if needed.] Following a devastating car accident that left her completely blind, Yelena was abandoned by Ethan at her lowest point, spiraling into a crippling mental breakdown. When I first met Yelena, I was covered in scratches from her every day. Over time, Yelena grew accustomed to my presence, and she could only fall asleep at night while holding my hand. If I’d been transferred earlier, I would’ve thrown away my entire future to stay with Yelena, because her fragile mind was all I could think about. Now, seeing Yelena beside Ethan with a beaming smile and sound mind, I knew her true love had returned, and my role was over. I typed: [I’m not getting married.] As Ethan slid the ring onto her finger amidst cheers, I slipped away. Upon handing over my work at the office, I walked out of the building. Yelena was nowhere to be found at the wedding. However, I never expected to find her waiting for me downstairs at the office building. She had roses in hand, was leaning against a sleek convertible, and waved me over. My colleagues gave me teasing looks before dispersing. Curious but composed, I walked over to her. “Zach, why did you leave so suddenly? You missed dinner, right? Let me take you…” Before Yelena could finish, Ethan stepped out of the driver’s seat and interrupted impatiently, “Lena, why are you wasting time talking to him? “Zachary, you’ve been wearing the heirloom meant for me for five years in my place. Time to hand it over.” Yelena pushed Ethan, telling him to be polite, and whispered to me, “Don’t listen to him. You’re the only one I consider my husband. “But Ethan needs to wear the emerald ring at today’s family banquet. Can you lend it to him? He’ll return it tomorrow, okay?” I took off the emerald ring, its green gem still warm from my body heat. Yelena had no idea that my life in her family was just a deal. Her parents had never seen me as her husband. With my unknown origins, they considered me an illegitimate child, unworthy of living with the Sullivan family. They paid me a monthly salary to take care of Yelena. The day Yelena no longer needed me would be the day I was cast aside. They had never intended to give me the emerald ring. Yelena had gone against her parents’ wishes, insisting on giving me the ring and placing it on my finger herself. I’ll never forget how she gently told me, “Zachary, you’re my husband now. You deserve everything that comes with it.” Now, she was taking back the ring meant for her husband, along with the favor she had once shown me… Without hesitation, I removed the emerald ring and handed it to Ethan. “Keep it. No need to return it to me.”

Hearing this, Yelena frowned. “You’re just lending it to him, but why are you saying that? You still want to marry me, don’t you?” Ethan sneered. “Why do you think? He’s just playing the victim again, trying to win your sympathy. “When we were kids, he threw a tantrum and refused to ride in the car, choosing to walk home barefoot in the freezing winter instead. It was as if my family had mistreated him, the adopted son.” Upon hearing Ethan’s words, Yelena seemed to remember something. Her expression darkened, a flicker of displeasure crossing her face. But that wasn’t how it had happened. When Ethan was found and brought back, he never stopped complaining about the hardships he’d endured. “I rose before dawn to work the fields, walked barefoot in the winter to chop firewood in the mountains, and only ate one meal a day, with no delicacies…” My parents resented that their biological son had suffered while I, an outsider, had lived comfortably. So, they made me experience everything Ethan had gone through. From then on, I was woken up at the crack of dawn to pull weeds and had to walk home barefoot in the winter. While my family enjoyed lavish meals, I was given scraps, and even the maids ate better than I did. Whenever I begged them for mercy, they would say it was nothing compared to what Ethan had endured. Yet Ethan’s suffering wasn’t my fault. I was just an abandoned child they had taken in. Word of my mistreatment spread soon. To protect the Lambert family’s reputation, they blamed me, saying I had deliberately caused the trouble out of jealousy for Ethan’s return and embarrassed them. From then on, I became an annoying troublemaker, ostracized by everyone. Even Yelena, who had once been close to me, turned against me and soon started dating Ethan. Back then, I was terrified Yelena would grow to hate me, so I told her the truth. However, no matter how hard I tried to explain or how much evidence I presented, Yelena didn’t trust me the way she once did. In fact, she only seemed to dislike me even more. Right then, as I saw the doubt flicker in her eyes, I didn’t explain, simply shaking my head. Anyway, I was leaving. It no longer mattered if she misunderstood me. As I turned to leave, Yelena grabbed my hand and sighed, as if compromising. “You have to come to the family dinner tonight, so please get in the car.” I nodded. This would be my last meal with them before I left. I sat in the back seat. Throughout the ride, Yelena chatted animatedly with Ethan in the front seat, reminiscing their unforgettable memories together. I didn’t say a word. Arriving at Sullivan Villa, I walked into the living room and found my parents there. When they slid a kidney donation consent form in front of me, I finally understood why they had invited me to the family dinner. It turned out Ethan had been diagnosed with kidney failure and needed a transplant. It all made sense now why my family had pushed for that medical checkup just a few days ago. They had discovered my kidney was a match for Ethan’s and were forcing me to save him. Yelena’s mother, Grace Sullivan, served Ethan food while telling me, “Zachary, your parents raised you all these years, so you should be grateful and do the right thing.” My father, Harrison Lambert, snorted. “If you don’t want to donate your kidney, we can pay you.” Ethan put on a fake act and said, “It’s my fault for hurting Lena before. You don’t have to save me. Let me die, and it’s the least I can do to make up for what I’ve done.” Seeing this, Yelena’s eyes showed a flicker of worry. She held my arm and pleaded, “You’ve always been kind, Zach. You wouldn’t let your brother die, would you? “It’s just one kidney. You’ll recover after the surgery, and it’s no big deal.” I hadn’t even sat down before they started pressuring me. I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly at myself. “When is the surgery?” Everyone seemed shocked that I agreed so quickly. Harrison said in a low voice, “Tonight. The sooner, the better.” I turned to look at Yelena. Yelena, who would’ve defended me in the past, now stayed silent, as if she were afraid I might refuse. It was a lie when Yelena said she was just putting on an act. She loved Ethan so much that she was terrified his condition would get worse, so she hurriedly tricked me into coming back for the family dinner. I didn’t refuse. “Alright, but I have one condition.” Upon hearing that I still had a request, Maria instantly looked indifferent. “Sure enough, you’re still greedy for money. I raised you for nothing all these years!” Yelena also thought it was inappropriate for me to ask for money and raised an eyebrow, saying, “Zach, you should repay your parents for raising you. How could you ask them for money?” I hadn’t even said anything, yet they were already labeling me as an ungrateful guy. I shook my head and told my parents, “I don’t want money. I want to cut ties with you. From now on, I owe you nothing.” My parents were stunned. They hadn’t expected this, but they agreed quickly. Without eating anything, I was rushed to the hospital and wheeled into the operating room. As I woke up from the anesthesia, I was back in my hospital room. Ethan was sitting by my bed, peeling an apple. We had both undergone surgeries, but why did he look so different? Just as I was wondering, Ethan answered with a smile, “You’re surprised, aren’t you? “Zachary, I was never sick. I just wanted to make it clear to you that our parents and Yelena have never been on your side. “To save me, your miserable life could be thrown away at any moment!” Chapter 4

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In the third year of my marriage to my husband, I was the one who asked for a divorce. Everyone thought I was bluffing to get his attention. He thought the same. Later, he started making headlines with different women, all in a desperate attempt to make me obedient. At first, I cried and screamed every night, waiting for him to come home. But my pain only emboldened him further, turning me into a laughingstock for everyone around me. Eventually, I stopped fighting. That’s when he went mad, demanding, “What’s this? A new tactic to win me back?” I wish I could have seen what his gentleness was like. But it’s too late for that now. In the third year of my marriage to Jack Sullivan, he brought home yet another woman. She was exactly his type: young, radiant, and exuding a soft elegance—completely different from me. From her smug, taunting words, I pieced together how they met. Her name was Emily Blair, Jack’s new assistant. She was also proof of his abuse of power. Without any proper vetting, Jack had personally placed her in the role, despite the fact that his previous assistant had been with him for years. Friends had warned me repeatedly to keep an eye on Jack. “He seems like he’s caught up in some midlife crisis,” they’d say. But I was too exhausted to care anymore. Being Mrs. Sullivan for three years had drained me, leaving me a stranger to myself. The day I was diagnosed with cancer was also the day I first met Emily Blair. Holding the thermos my mother-in-law had handed me, I caught her hopeful expression and chose to give in. No matter how ugly things got between Jack and me, my mother-in-law had always been kind. From the very beginning, she had shown me nothing but warmth, even warning me about Jack’s flaws. But back then, all I could see was him. For three years, she had taken my side in every argument, even when I was in the wrong. Sitting in the backseat of the car, watching Jack’s office building come into view, I felt none of the anticipation I once had. Even when faced with the whispers of employees, I had learned to remain unbothered. What I didn’t expect, however, was to encounter Jack’s latest fling here—his latest obsession. As I scrolled through my phone, I could feel someone’s eyes on me. Every time I glanced up, the gaze disappeared, but the feeling remained. I knew that look. I’d seen it countless times. It was the look of women who despised me for being Mrs. Sullivan, who wanted nothing more than to take my place. Their viper-like stares haunted even my dreams. Emily tugged at her friend’s sleeve and whispered nervously, “She’s not what I imagined. Didn’t they say she was crazy and mean?” I heard her. That’s when I finally got a good look at her face. In that instant, I knew she was exactly Jack’s type—like the one he had loved and lost. The floor-to-ceiling windows reflected our contrasting figures: Me, vibrant yet with dead eyes. Her, youthful and full of life. From the start, I was never the kind of woman Jack wanted. But moths always fly into flames, heedless of the consequences—even if it means their death. I took the water she handed me, my gaze scrutinizing her closely. “Mrs. Sullivan, why are you staring at me? Did I do something wrong?” she asked cautiously. “No,” I replied, a faint smile on my lips. “I’m just curious what kind of woman climbs into Jack Sullivan’s bed.” She froze, clearly not expecting my bluntness. After a long pause, she feigned innocence and looked me straight in the eye. “Obviously, someone young and beautiful. After all, Mrs. Sullivan, you…” I knew what she was implying—that I was old and worn-out. I’d seen this tactic too many times to care. Not wanting to waste another second, I handed her the thermos. “Give this to Jack for me. I have somewhere else to be.” “Oh… okay.” That’s when I saw her name: Emily Blair. How fitting—it was such a lovely name. I’d seen it before, tucked into the notes Jack left on his gifts. I had considered staying to see how Jack treated Emily. Would he be gentle? Would he show her patience? But the pain was too much. Lately, I’d been plagued by excruciating headaches, at first assuming it was just insomnia. But now, the pain persisted even during the day. I knew something was seriously wrong. Jack would probably enjoy eating whatever Emily cooked for him. After leaving the thermos with her, I went straight to the hospital for tests. The results were just as I had expected. The doctor told me I wouldn’t make it past the fall. How poetic, I thought. To die in the season of harvest—isn’t that a kind of beauty too? I thanked the doctor softly as he handed me a prescription for painkillers. When you’ve witnessed so much death, the only thing left to fear is pain. Perhaps these pills would help me leave with dignity, unlike my parents, who had died in agony and despair.

When I got home, Jack was already sitting on the couch. He glanced at me briefly before turning his attention back to his phone. I knew he was texting Emily. Only with someone he truly liked would he smile so warmly. I thought silence would fill the room between us, but as I stepped onto the stairs, his cold voice cut through the air behind me. “Where were you? Why did it take you so long to get home?” “If I told you I went to the hospital, would you treat me more kindly?” “What’s this? Another fake illness? Whatever you’re scheming, remember to live up to the title of Mrs. Sullivan.” Mrs. Sullivan. That was the only tie left between Jack and me. Everything about me was something he disliked. He had only married me because his parents pressured him into it. Maybe the saying is true: to gain something, you must lose something. In the three years of being Mrs. Sullivan, there was never a moment when Jack didn’t have someone else on the side. To get back at me, he would parade his affairs in front of me, bringing them into the home his parents had gifted us—the same home where he wanted to erase the pain of losing his first love. But I had never done anything to him. At first, I was heartbroken, hysterically questioning him about his infidelity. But eventually, I realized those women were just tools—props in his revenge against me. None of them ever stayed around for more than a month. I used to think I held a place in his heart. Until Emily Blair came along. Jack never brought her to this house. He remembered her birthday, gave her gifts to mark their 100th day together, took her shopping, watched movies with her, and even kept her by his side at work. They were just like Jack and his first love had been—doing all the things couples in love do. Jack gave her everything: his time, his attention, his money. I turned to look at Jack, his brows furrowed in irritation. For the first time, my voice was calm. “If it weren’t for me, would you have fallen for Emily after marrying Chloe?” “What kind of nonsense are you spouting now? You’re clearly not thinking straight.” I knew that name—Chloe—was a sensitive subject for him. But I didn’t care anymore. Still, I wanted to know the answer. But he was never going to tell me. Pressing my hand against my throbbing head, I watched as Jack slammed the door behind him, leaving the room without looking back. Even though I’d told myself long ago not to feel hurt by Jack anymore, not to lose the last shred of dignity I had left because of him— I still couldn’t stop the ache when I saw his cold, resolute back disappearing down the hall. If only none of this had ever happened.

The bed felt emptier than ever. I curled into myself, clutching my head as waves of pain wracked my body. Even with the air conditioning set to the lowest temperature, I was drenched in a cold sweat. The painkillers barely worked, only dulling the edge of my suffering. I must’ve been hallucinating from the pain. Half-asleep, half-awake, I saw us as we used to be. Before Chloe ever appeared, I had always been the only one by Jack’s side—even if he treated me with nothing but indifference. I’ll never forget that day. It was a bitterly cold winter, snow falling thick and fast. The freezing air outside couldn’t compare to the chill in my heart. That was the winter when I lost both my parents. My father lost his battle with cancer, and on the same day, my mother jumped from the 18th floor. Looking back, maybe the signs had always been there. But back then, I was too young to understand. Grief consumed me. I shut myself away, refusing to see anyone, refusing to eat, hiding in the last place they had been. The day was glaringly bright when Jack found me. He stood there, out of breath, trying to act casual. “I just came to check if you were dead. Don’t read too much into it.” “I’m not dead. You can leave now.” “Come on,” he said, his tone brisk but oddly determined. “You’re practically growing mold in here. Consider yourself lucky—I’m feeling generous enough to drag you outside for some fresh air. No arguments.” And just like that, with his forceful attitude, he pulled me out of the darkness. His hands were trembling, yet he held on tightly. Before I could protest, he started rambling. “Taylor, when was the last time you ate? You feel like I’m dragging a ghost, not a person.” His words made me snap back at him instinctively. “None of your business. I can walk on my own.” Normally, that kind of retort would’ve earned a sharp comeback from him. But that day, he just muttered under his breath, still holding my hand, never letting go. That day felt like the first ray of light in my world after endless darkness. Even now, I’ve forgotten so much over the years, but I still remember that scene vividly. A boy, grumbling endlessly, leading a girl by the hand. A cup of hot chocolate in his other hand, the two of them walking down a snow-covered street. The pale winter sunlight shone on their faces, melting away the shadows that clung to them. They didn’t know it then, but moments like that are fleeting—gone before you realize how beautiful they are.

When I woke up again, it was already past midnight. My stomach burned with hunger after going so long without food. Even without looking in the mirror, I knew I must look terrible. Not that it mattered—there was no one here to see me. I lived alone in this house. Stumbling downstairs to find something to eat, I noticed the living room lights were still on. To my surprise, it was Jack. He had come back. He rarely stayed home at night. I knew he spent his evenings with Emily—eating the meals she cooked, taking walks in the park to help digest, and even going out of his way to track down the exact breed of kitten she wanted. Maybe Jack liked cats too. But I was allergic to cat fur. From the very start, our habits, our preferences, our lives—they were never aligned. He was lounging lazily on the couch, a cigarette between his fingers, his eyes fixed sharply on me as I descended the stairs. I lowered my gaze and tried to walk past him, but he grabbed my wrist. Hard. His grip was so tight that red marks formed almost instantly around my skin. He frowned as he looked me over, his voice full of suspicion. “Why have you gotten so thin?” I froze for a moment, then yanked at my arm, trying to break free. When I couldn’t, I sneered. “Jack Sullivan, what kind of game are you playing now?” “What, did one of your mistresses finally treat you like dirt? Is that why you’re suddenly noticing me?” Jack’s eyes flicked to my wrist, then back to my face. My tone must’ve stung, because his expression darkened. When I finally managed to pull my arm free and walked toward the dining table, I noticed something strange—a cup of my once-favorite bubble tea and a slice of the cake I used to beg Jack to bring home for me. What was this? A peace offering? A bribe for the lunch I had delivered earlier? Or maybe it was an apology. But none of it mattered anymore. I was dying. I didn’t need Jack. I didn’t need his pity. Without a second glance at the table, I headed straight for the fridge and grabbed a cream puff. That’s when Jack snapped. He slammed me against the floor-to-ceiling window with a force that made the glass shudder, his jaw clenched, his voice full of rage. “Taylor, what the hell do you want from me?” “Aren’t these the things you used to love? How dare you ignore them!” Them. Or maybe… him. I looked up at him with a bitter smile. “Jack, I don’t want any of it anymore. Not the tea, not the cake, and certainly not you.” “You know,” I continued, my voice dripping with venom, “you’re pathetic. When I loved you, you couldn’t care less. But now that I don’t, you cling to me like a stray dog.” In all the years I’d known Jack, I’d learned exactly where to hit to make it hurt. His face turned ice-cold, his temper brewing into a storm. As his hand shot up like he was going to hit me, I met his glare, raising my chin in defiance. “Go ahead, Jack. Hit me. If you don’t, you’re not a man.” His hand froze mid-air, my words pushing him to the edge. But instead of striking me, he let out a strangled growl and stalked in circles, his hands on his hips. When I turned to leave, he lost it completely. In one swift motion, he threw me over his shoulder and stormed upstairs, ignoring my fists pounding against his back. Like a wild animal, he threw me onto the bed, his hands yanking at my nightgown with a feral desperation. I felt nothing but disgust. Balling my fists, I punched him with all the strength I had left, but it wasn’t enough. Compared to him, my efforts were nothing but a nuisance. “Get off me, Jack!” I spat. “Don’t you dare touch me with your filthy hands—you make me sick!” He pinned my legs down with his knee and silenced me with a brutal kiss. His lips crushed mine with such force that the skin split, leaving a metallic taste of blood in my mouth. I stopped struggling, my strength completely drained. Leaning down, his breath hot against my ear, he whispered, “Taylor, you say no, but your body seems to want me just fine.” “If you’d just admit what you did back then, we could go back to how we used to be.” “I don’t understand why you’re so stubborn about this.” Hearing those words, I turned my head away, bile rising in my throat. The thought of his mouth—just hours ago, probably on someone else—made me retch. “Am I really that disgusting to you?” For the first time, I looked at his face. His eyes were bloodshot, his expression unhinged, like a child throwing a tantrum because his favorite toy had been taken away. But what was I supposed to admit? I’d done nothing wrong. I would rather die than confess to something I hadn’t done. I used to think I was special to Jack. Until Chloe came into the picture. She was his first love. If I hadn’t accidentally stumbled across the truth, he probably would’ve kept it hidden forever. Jack was always cold to me, but with Chloe, he was different. He smiled warmly, acted playful—he was human. Just not with me. I thought I’d spend my life like a rat in the shadows, watching them bask in their happiness. Then one day, Jack stormed into the house, his face twisted with rage. “Taylor, did you tell my parents about Chloe?” I froze, completely caught off guard. “What are you talking about?” His response was a scream, raw and venomous: “You’re such a miserable bitch. You should’ve died with your parents. If you can’t be happy, why drag me down into your hell?” That was the moment I asked myself: Why didn’t I die with them?

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When my girlfriend’s male best friend was being treated at our hospital, he was unexpectedly diagnosed with AIDS. After I told my girlfriend, she thought I was lying to her. Not only did she slap me on the spot, but she also hired trolls to smear me online, accusing me of causing a patient’s death through malpractice. I was viciously cyberbullied as a result. Later, she and her best friend even burned me to death. I’ll never forget her words as I was engulfed in flames: “You deserve to die for keeping me and Jake apart!” When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day her best friend was diagnosed with AIDS. This time, I didn’t tell her. After all, if she loved him that much, she’d have to accept everything about him. “What’s wrong with Jake? Tell me already!” Olivia’s voice snapped me back to reality. I looked at her impatient face, then glanced around, realizing I was in my office. So I really had traveled back in time. It seemed even the heavens didn’t want me to die so senselessly. “What the hell are you spacing out for? I’ve been asking you for ages,” Olivia said angrily, shoving me. I came to my senses and looked at Jake’s blood test results in my hand. Sure enough, just like in my previous life, he had AIDS. He was Olivia’s male best friend, and they were very close. In my previous life, on this day, he had suddenly been in a car accident and brought to the hospital. Olivia had been beside herself with worry. After learning he had AIDS, I agonized for a long time before deciding to tell Olivia. But she didn’t believe me at all and slapped me hard across the face. “I know you don’t want me hanging out with Jake,” she had said. “But you need to know when to draw the line. You’re a doctor – you can’t just accuse patients of having infectious diseases because of your personal feelings!” No matter how I tried to explain, she wouldn’t listen. Legally, I shouldn’t have disclosed a patient’s condition to her anyway. It was private medical information. But out of concern for her safety, I had selfishly told her. Little did I know that my loose lips would lead to my brutal death in my past life. So in this life, no matter what, I won’t make the same mistake again.

“It’s not too serious, just some minor injuries. He’ll be fine after a few days of treatment in the hospital,” I told her. Hearing this, Olivia let out a sigh of relief. “That’s good.” But the next second, she was irritated again: “Then why didn’t you say so earlier? I thought it was something major!” “Adam, let me tell you – Jake is my best friend. Don’t you dare try anything sneaky.” I smiled at her. “Don’t worry, I won’t.” After she left, a colleague came in and patted me on the shoulder. “Hey Dr. Grant, didn’t you tell your girlfriend that Jake has AIDS?” he asked. “I saw her go feed him some soup just now.” “The law states that a patient’s condition is private. Doctors can’t disclose it to others without permission,” I replied formally. My colleague looked at me in surprise. “But that’s your girlfriend!” “She used to be. Not anymore,” I said.

I’ll never forget what Olivia did to me in my past life. After I told her Jake had AIDS, she thought I was deliberately lying to drive them apart. So she started giving me the cold shoulder and stopped coming home. Before long, rumors spread online that I had caused a patient’s death through malpractice. People were calling me an incompetent doctor. The hospital was terrified of the public backlash and suspended me under pressure. That’s when Olivia came to find me. “I’m the one who spread those rumors online. I hired people to smear you,” she admitted. “That’s what you get for lying about Jake having AIDS!” My heart shattered. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Olivia, you’re my girlfriend! You’ve ruined my entire career!” I cried in anguish. “So what?” She glared at me furiously. “Jake has been my best friend since childhood. I won’t let anyone say he’s sick. Not even you!” In that moment, my heart died completely. I broke up with her and left. I moved to another city by myself. But her mother kept contacting me, urging me to go back and marry Olivia. I refused. Soon after, Olivia called to yell at me: “You deliberately got my parents to scold me, didn’t you? You’re trying to keep me and Jake apart. Just you wait!” The next time I saw her was when my house suddenly caught fire. I saw her and Jake pouring gasoline outside. She even said: “You deserve to die for keeping me and Jake apart!” I’ll never forget the agony of being slowly burned alive. Olivia, in this life I won’t be your doormat anymore.

I contacted Olivia’s parents to break off the engagement, saying I no longer wanted to be with her. No matter how much her parents tried to persuade me, I insisted on ending things. They finally had to agree. That night, Olivia called me. “How dare you, Adam! Just because I took care of Jake for one day, you want to break off our engagement?” she yelled. I calmly replied, “It’s not because you took care of him. I just think you really like him and you two are a good match. I don’t want to come between you. So I’m stepping aside to let you be together.” She spent all her time with Jake anyway. It would be hard for her not to get infected with AIDS. So I had to stay away from her. “Fine, have it your way. But don’t come begging me to take you back later!” she snapped. “I won’t. I wish you and Jake a lifetime of happiness together,” I said before hanging up. I had never stood up to Olivia like this before. She bombarded me with angry texts afterwards: “Who the hell said you could hang up on me?” “Adam, where did you get the nerve?” A few minutes later: “You didn’t pay Jake’s medical bills?” She had brainwashed me into thinking she and Jake were just friends before. So I had always covered Jake’s hospital bills whenever he came for treatment. They both got used to it over time. Looking back now, I was such a fool. I didn’t reply to her and blocked her number. I had no patience left for someone like her.

The next day, Olivia came barging into my office with a pale-faced Jake in tow. “Give me money,” she demanded. “Hurry up. Don’t make me slap you.” In my past life, I had been her obedient lapdog. I gave her whatever she wanted, which is why she felt so entitled to demand money from me now. “Olivia, have you forgotten? We’ve broken up. We have no relationship anymore,” I said calmly. “Adam, how could you break up? Did I cause problems between you two?” Jake suddenly chimed in, looking all innocent. He always used that act to gain Olivia’s sympathy. “Yes, it’s because of you,” I said, staring him down. “You two like each other, don’t you? So I’m letting you be together. You should be the one giving Olivia money now, not me.” Olivia’s face was livid with rage. “Adam, are you trying to play hard to get now? Let me tell you, this won’t make me like you. It’ll only make me hate you more!” she spat. With that, she dragged Jake away. Not long after, I received a complaint. A patient had reported me for having a bad attitude towards them. The next thing I knew, a nurse said someone was causing a scene in the hallway. I went to check and found Olivia sitting on the floor crying and screaming, with Jake standing beside her. “Dr. Grant was extremely rude to patients. We just asked about a condition and he told us to get lost,” she wailed. “Where’s the hospital director? Come out and explain this!” In my past life, she had used her talent for lying to get me cyberbullied. In this life, she was trying to use the same tactic to harm me. But I had anticipated she might do this. Before coming, I had gone to the security office to retrieve the surveillance footage from my office. Then I called the police.

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I transmigrated into a novel as the adopted daughter of a wealthy family, while my best friend became their biological daughter. The rich family hated me for taking their daughter’s place and threw me out on the streets. Thankfully, my best friend helped me out and even treated me to high-end escort services at bars. But I mistook the CEO of Thompson Corporation for an escort and confessed to him with a wad of cash. He accepted. After a year of dating, I realized that Lucas was asexual and never touched me. He was also a control freak who kept me locked up at home for three months, not allowing me to go out. I cried to my best friend, “Lucas is an asexual control freak!” She hugged me and complained, “My parents want me to marry a 60-year-old man who’s impotent!” We both burst into tears. “I want to break up. What about you?” “If you break up, I’ll run away from my marriage!” Soon after, a car accident off a cliff supposedly killed both the Bennett family’s biological daughter and their former adopted daughter. Meanwhile, in the romantic city of Paris, two wealthy women appeared, waiting to encounter true love.

I woke up early to make breakfast, the sky barely light outside. After preparing sandwiches and heating milk, I went into Lucas’s room, opened the curtains, and woke him up. “What’s with the sudden kindness? What do you want?” He frowned, his handsome face showing suspicion. “Sophia asked me to go out with her,” I hesitated before continuing, “just to chat.” Lucas stared at me intently, “Is she taking you to bars for escort services again? She’s always a bad influence on you!” I mentally rolled my eyes. He used to be a regular at bars too, and now that he doesn’t go, he won’t let others have fun? Suppressing the urge to argue, I explained softly, “I haven’t been out for three months.” He paused, then reluctantly nodded in agreement. Lucas had a strong need to control me. Three months ago, I quit my job and had no income source, relying on him for all expenses. He kept me confined at home, not allowing me to go anywhere. But after today, he would no longer be able to control me. Because I was meeting Sophia to find a way to break up with him. Sophia and I had transmigrated into this world as the real and fake daughters of a wealthy family. She was the biological daughter, cherished and loved by the rich family after being found. I was the fake daughter, kicked out of the family when my identity was exposed. Due to her family’s interference, Sophia couldn’t directly help me. She could only occasionally send me gifts and cover my expenses for escort services when we went out to bars. That’s how I met Lucas at a bar. In the dim light, his face was stunningly handsome, instantly capturing my heart. Not to mention his muscles, clearly visible even through his shirt. I jokingly asked to book him and even confessed my feelings. Later, I found out he was a VIP guest of the bar owner, not an escort. But he accepted my confession anyway. After a year of dating, I discovered that Lucas was asexual. He was the CEO of his company and always busy. He spent half his time staying at the office working overtime. And when he came home, he always brought work with him. By the time he got into bed next to me, I was either already asleep. Or we would only help each other with our hands, which was hardly satisfying. Although he did respond when I helped him, in a whole year, we never had any substantial physical relationship. Several times, I wanted to threaten him with breaking up. But every time I saw his face, which was exactly my type, I swallowed my words. I didn’t take the initiative, and Lucas became even more distant. In the end, we even slept in separate rooms. Three months ago, the job I had for half a year was ruined again by my former adoptive parents from the rich family. I was sighing and feeling down at home, in a very bad mood. But Lucas didn’t seem to care. He even proposed not letting me go out. After giving me a credit card, he kept me at home every day. A man so asexual, full of bad habits, and without any sense of romance. Even with such a handsome face and good body, I couldn’t take it anymore. I decided to break up with him. But I was also a bit afraid of him. After a year of dating, I knew very well what kind of person Lucas was. If I brought up breaking up first, the consequences would probably be very serious. That’s why I needed to see Sophia, to ask her to help me think of a way.

We hadn’t seen each other for three months. Sophia looked at me with tears in her eyes, scolding me for valuing love over friendship. “We’re best friends, how could you not see me just because you got a boyfriend? This is the first time we’ve been apart for so long, waaah…” I couldn’t help but tear up too. Lucas was asexual and had such strong control issues. After three months, I was almost going crazy staying at home. Such a miserable life, compared to before, was like heaven and earth. Two years ago, when I first transmigrated, I had already been kicked out of the rich family. My work was also suppressed, and I had no money at all. Because I couldn’t pay rent, I was evicted by the landlord. I was in a sorry state, dragging my suitcase along the street. A luxury car stopped beside me and lowered its window, revealing a familiar face. “Ava?” “Sophia?” We recognized each other on the street and hugged each other, crying our eyes out, while passersby looked at us like we were crazy. After that, I moved into one of Sophia’s properties, and only then did I realize we were actually the real and fake daughters. She said she suspected I was the fake daughter when she found out about my existence. She never expected to guess correctly. “Why didn’t you come find me earlier? I’ve been waiting for you for so long, bestie.” “Well, my family wouldn’t tell me anything about you. I had just returned to the family and didn’t know many people, so I had no way to find out about you.” “If I move into your house, won’t your parents find out?” Sophia only then realized the problem and quickly rented another place for me. But it was too late. When her parents found out, they gave her a strict order not to have much contact with me. They even specially arranged a driver to monitor her. But these obstacles were nothing for me and Sophia. We met at bars every time, as that was the only place the driver wouldn’t follow her in. Relying on the gifts Sophia sent me occasionally and some intermittent work, my life was quite comfortable. But three months ago, I was once again suppressed by my former adoptive parents and completely lost my job. I originally didn’t plan to tell Sophia, to avoid putting her in a difficult position. At worst, I would just fulfill the wishes of my former adoptive parents and leave New York. After all, they treated Sophia well, so I had nothing to worry about. But since I quit my job, Lucas’s controlling behavior became more and more severe. I always suspected he had some psychological issues. “Sophia,” I held onto her arm and said seriously, “Lucas is an asexual control freak. He won’t let me see you, but I’ve made up my mind, I want to break up with him!” Sophia was stunned for a moment. Then she hugged me tightly and cried in my arms. I quickly comforted her, “Shouldn’t you be happy? If I break up, we can see each other often again.” She sobbed and said, “I am happy for you, I just thought of myself…” “My parents are forcing me into an arranged marriage, they want me to marry a 60-year-old man. He’s not asexual, but he’s impotent!” “Ava, what should I do?” Sophia and I grew up together like childhood sweethearts. I knew how much she longed for love. Even if she married a scumbag for love and ended up being cheated on, she still believed in love. While I only believed in the power of money. That’s why I confessed to Lucas when I thought he was an escort. As a result, we transmigrated. She was being forced to marry a 60-year-old man. And my belief in money didn’t work out either, instead, I was being controlled by a man. Unable to think of a solution for the moment, I could only comfort Sophia, “Didn’t you say your parents treat you well? They cherish you like a jewel after finding you. If you beg them, they’ll surely soften up.” “Give me some advice first, I really can’t wait any longer to break up.” Sophia pouted and cried out loud, “I’ve already begged them, but they insist on me marrying him. Do you think I can fall in love with a 60-year-old man? I don’t want to marry someone I don’t love…” I thought Sophia was the cherished biological daughter, but it turned out she still had to sacrifice her own happiness. A surge of anger rose in my heart. After crying, Sophia asked me between sobs, “Are you really sure you want to break up?” I nodded. She hugged my shoulders tightly, “Then you break up, and I’ll run away from the marriage!” I hesitated, “With the Bennett family’s power, can you really escape this marriage?” Sophia: “Even if I can’t escape, I have to try. I’d rather die than marry a 60-year-old man!”

As soon as Sophia finished speaking, my eyes lit up. Yes, we could ‘die’! The Bennett family and Lucas had enormous power, if we just hid, we would definitely be found. Only by faking our deaths could we escape their control. After repeatedly confirming that she would rather give up her wealth than go through with the arranged marriage, I told her my idea. The Bennett family was very concerned about our movements, so we had to die together. One after the other would easily arouse suspicion. I told her to look into luxury cruise trips abroad and set a final deadline based on the engagement date. To ensure our future life, I instructed her to sell her luxury items and deposit the money into an overseas bank account… We also planned which country we would settle in. “I like Paris, it’s the city of romance. I’m sure I can find true love there,” Sophia said with dreamy eyes. As we chatted, only an hour passed, and the bar’s night scene was just heating up. But both Sophia’s and my phones rang one after another. Her parents called to urge her to come home. And Lucas told me he had finished work early and was coming to pick me up. I could only arrange to chat with her on the phone and hurried to the back door, leaving the bar before Sophia’s driver came in. Lucas was waiting at the back door. Before I could fasten my seatbelt, the car sped off. The sports car was a convertible, and we drove like lightning to the garage. The wind made my eyes dry, and I got out of the car with a pale face. I must look very disheveled now, he did it on purpose, just wanting to see me look bad! “What’s wrong with you? I was only in the bar for an hour, barely said anything, is there any need to get angry and drive so fast?” I glared at Lucas, unable to help but jab at him. “I’m sorry.” His face was calm as he apologized frankly, which left me not knowing what to say. After entering the house, he broke the silence and asked, “What did you talk about? Did she mention anything about the Bennett family’s arranged marriage?” I was surprised that he also knew about Sophia being forced into marriage. But more than that, I felt guilty, after all, Sophia and I had gossiped about his asexuality. “She said it’s been too long since we met,” I chose my words carefully, “and she invited me to go traveling with her.” “Is she complaining about me?” Lucas examined my expression and said in a flat tone, “You don’t have a job, I let you stay at home to rest, it’s for your own good!” Seeing that I didn’t answer and remained noncommittal, he continued in a harsh tone, “Anyway, I won’t allow you to see her again.” “She’s from the Bennett family, and the Bennetts are competitors with Thompson Corporation. Her approaching you definitely isn’t with good intentions.” I mentally rolled my eyes. He really doesn’t understand my relationship with Sophia. With our years of friendship, I can be sure she would never harm me. But I knew this wasn’t the time to argue, so I just placated him, “You’re right, I’ll do as you say.” Lucas frowned. This was the first time I had expressed an uncooperative, non-compliant attitude. After all, since we started dating, I had always gone along with him and followed his lead. In his view, Sophia and I, as the real and fake daughters, must be enemies. My repeatedly sabotaged jobs were evidence of this. But I knew her difficulties. Her parents hated the fake daughter for taking their place, which didn’t conflict with them being good to Sophia. I didn’t want to make things difficult for Sophia. I had tried to explain to Lucas. But he couldn’t understand at all. How could the real and fake daughters be best friends? Over time, I got tired of explaining to him. I continued to hang out with Sophia in private as usual. Until I lost my last job, and he started forbidding me from going out. Perhaps my placating attitude made Lucas dissatisfied. He turned my body to face him, stared at me intently, and said in a cold tone. “I’m not trying to interfere with your friendships, but Sophia Bennett is not acceptable.” “You can go out and play tomorrow, but you’re not allowed to see her again!” I remained silent for a while, then finally nodded and agreed to his demand. I definitely wouldn’t be seeing Sophia anytime soon, but in the future, we would always be together. Sophia and I were going to escape from this place.

That night, lying in bed. I was discussing the fake death plan with Sophia on my phone. Just thinking about soon being free from Lucas’s control, I couldn’t calm down for a long time. Lucas, who usually worked very late and had been sleeping in a separate room recently, came to the bedroom early, contrary to his usual behavior. After glancing at my phone screen, he declared, “Chatting with Sophia Bennett again?” I quickly turned off the screen and hid under the covers, not answering his question. Lucas lay down beside me, his movements gentle, “Are you still upset that I won’t let you see her?” He sighed helplessly. Moving closer to me, he reached out and pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly. I stiffened, not daring to move for a moment. Lucas’s embrace was very warm and gave a sense of security. In our year of dating, what I liked most was cuddling up to him like a sloth. But he was asexual and didn’t like much physical contact with me. Such cozy moments were always rare. So at this moment, I strangely craved this feeling. But I knew it wasn’t right to think this way. Probably any tall man’s embrace would make me feel warm and secure. They wouldn’t be like Lucas, who was asexual and controlling. I didn’t need to give up the whole forest for him. But would other men be as handsome and rich as him, with such a good body? After all, every time we helped each other, his abs and pecs felt really good to touch… A night of wild thoughts. When I woke up, Lucas had already gone to work. After getting ready, I went on a shopping spree at the mall with his credit card, buying lots of gold jewelry. Worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. It’s his own card, might as well use it. After dismissing the driver Lucas had assigned to me, I took the heavy jewelry to an antique shop. The shop owner led me to a back room. I dropped my bag on the table, unzipped it, and revealed the jewelry boxes inside. I felt a secret thrill – the feeling of flashing gold jewelry was really quite nice. The shop owner counted and weighed the items, then put them away in a cabinet and asked, “Didn’t you say before that you weren’t leaving? What made you change your mind now?” I had met her when I first transmigrated here. At that time, I was forced out of work by the Bennett family. It was the shop owner who helped me. She told me she had connections and could get me a quick visa to Europe or America. And it would be a work visa. At the time, I was amazed at her far-reaching connections and was very tempted by her offer. But then I met Sophia, and I gave up on the idea. “Two people,” I said, without answering her question. I sent her Sophia’s and my identity information, “As soon as possible. I don’t have cash, if this jewelry isn’t enough, let me know and I’ll get more.” “Don’t worry, the jewelry is legitimate, I still have all the receipts inside.” The shop owner was a smart woman and didn’t ask why I was in such a hurry to leave the country. “With expedited processing, it can be done in a week. I’ll send you the required documents and papers when it’s time.” Hearing her calm words, I felt relieved. Besides wanting to escape from Lucas, Sophia’s situation couldn’t wait either. Her family had indeed arranged her marriage, and even sent out engagement party invitations. God knows how horrified I was when I saw that electronic invitation yesterday. That night. Lucas again stopped work early and came to the bedroom. Seeing that I had already turned off the lights and gone to sleep, he looked surprised, “Why are you sleeping so early today?” I was a bit nervous, worried he would ask about the gold jewelry purchase. But I guess that amount of money didn’t mean much to him. He didn’t inquire about it. After lying down next to me, he gently took my hand and placed it on his abs. In our year of dating, not having any substantial physical relationship with him had always been my regret. I unconsciously pressed my hand against his abs. Feeling the firm, smooth, and elastic muscles under my hand. Lucas let out a muffled groan, gripping my hand tightly, his fingertips caressing my palm. My heart heated up in response. Now like this, was he trying to seduce me?

He was actively seducing me. With a body and looks like that, wouldn’t I be missing out if I didn’t indulge? Realizing this, I boldly caressed his abs. Inch by inch, feeling his warmth, my hand slowly moved lower. Following my actions, Lucas’s shirt came off, and he let out heavy breaths. Just as I was about to reach the crucial area. He grabbed my wrist and sat up, turning on the bedside lamp. In the dim, intimate light, his well-defined but not overly bulky muscles looked even more tempting. My mind went blank, and I propped myself up, covering his lips with mine. Lucas froze for a moment, then put his hand on the back of my head, deepening the kiss. After several seconds, I could barely breathe. When we parted, a silver thread connected our lips. Before I could catch my breath, a flurry of kisses landed on my body. From my forehead down, passing my earlobe, throat, all the way to just above my chest… I felt like everywhere he kissed was on fire. I looked up at him with raised eyebrows, arching my upper body slightly. At this moment, silence spoke louder than words. Lucas chuckled softly, reassuringly pecked my lips, then buried his head in front of my chest. My chest heaved rapidly, and some soft moans escaped my lips. The next second, his hands also began to roam wildly over my body. “Is this okay?” he asked huskily in my ear, his voice full of desire. I softly agreed, and then a pain came from inside my body. But with his gentle movements, this pain soon turned into pleasure. My hands unconsciously climbed onto his shoulders. He held me tightly in his arms, inescapable, again and again. The intimate atmosphere in the room grew thicker, the dim light casting our intertwined shadows on the wall, entangled all night long. Wasn’t Lucas supposed to be asexual? What happened today? It wasn’t until dawn, when I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open, that he finally let me go. The next day. When I woke up, it was already noon. My body was so sore I didn’t have the strength to get out of bed, and my throat was too hoarse to speak. Fortunately, Lucas had been considerate enough to help clean me up, dress me, and even change the sheets and blanket. I picked up the water glass, took a sip, and put it down with a clinking sound. Lucas, who should have gone to work, quickly opened the door and hurried to the bedside, helping me sit up. I looked down at the marks all over my chest under my nightgown and couldn’t help but frown. I didn’t need to imagine; my neck was probably in a similar state. “Why didn’t you sleep a bit longer?” Lucas asked gently. His voice was unbelievably soft. I examined him, feeling a bit confused and somewhat distressed. Could it be that Lucas wasn’t asexual? For two years of our relationship, no matter how much I initiated, he never responded. Yet just when I had decided to escape his control, he let me have a taste of him. I felt utterly helpless. What a situation this was. Seeing that I didn’t speak, he wasn’t annoyed. He brought in some food and placed it on the bedside table: “You must be hungry, eat something.” I silently took a bite of the soup dumpling and made a request: “I want to go out shopping tomorrow too.” The shop owner had sent me the required documents last night. I had to meet Sophia, get her documents, and then deliver everything to her. Lucas paused, then asked, “Didn’t you shop enough yesterday? The driver said you dismissed him. Where did you go? Don’t do that again in the future.” My heart sank. The little hesitation I had felt because of our physical encounter dissipated. His need for control was really too strong. Softening now would be irresponsible to myself. I turned my back to him, my expression cold. After a while, a voice came from behind: “Remember to take the driver when you go out, don’t lose him.”

A week ago. I once again ditched the driver and went to the antique shop to hand over the documents to the owner. After returning home, Lucas strictly forbade me from going out. But today was Sophia’s engagement party. Even though Thompson Corporation and the Bennett family were competitors, they still had some interactions. Lucas took me to attend the party. The Bennett family had booked an entire floor of a luxury hotel, making quite a grand spectacle. The hall was crowded with people. I drank two glasses of wine and excused myself to go to the bathroom, arriving at the door of the makeup room. Sophia had chased away all the makeup artists, so I slipped in easily. I handed her the sportswear I had prepared in advance, then changed out of my formal dress, only to find that Sophia hadn’t moved at all. I flicked her forehead, “What are you thinking about? Hurry up and change!” Sophia looked up at me and said cautiously, “I want to tell you something.” I narrowed my eyes, “You want to marry that old man?” She glared at me, “It’s about Lucas. He reached an agreement with my parents. If they acknowledge you as the Bennett family’s adopted daughter and let you marry into the Thompson family, my engagement can be called off.” I wavered for a moment, but then thought of Lucas’s increasingly severe controlling behavior. I quickly pushed the thought of his abs out of my mind, suppressing the inexplicable reluctance in my heart. I said coldly, “I have no intention of acknowledging parents who don’t want me. They treated me so badly before, I won’t degrade myself.” Sophia saw that I had made up my mind and let out a sigh of relief. “I’m glad you don’t want to. If you gave up breaking up for my sake, I would feel guilty to death.” “But if you really regret it, I’ll definitely stay to help you. It all depends on your choice.” I hugged her gratefully and urged her to change clothes. Then, we followed a bribed service staff member, taking the VIP elevator down to the parking lot. A van was already waiting at the elevator exit. The antique shop owner stuck her head out from the driver’s seat and greeted us. Just as we got in the car, another VIP elevator showed someone coming down. I hurriedly urged the shop owner to drive away. As the vehicle started, the elevator doors opened, and a group of people poured out. The head of the Bennett family and Lucas were at the front, followed by many bodyguards. Several bodyguards rushed over to try and stop us. The steady van drove off at sports car speed, leaving them far behind. As the car left the parking lot, three cars appeared parked side by side, blocking the exit. Even if someone wanted to chase, they would have to move the cars first. This was arranged by Sophia, who had paid for it. The car drove to the port, arriving just in time for the final check-in of our pre-booked luxury cruise. The shop owner handed us our passports and gave me a backpack. The bag was full of military compressed biscuits. Hurriedly checking in with Sophia, we boarded just as the cruise ship was retracting its gangway. I felt relieved and turned to look at the shop owner on the shore. She was gesturing for me to check my phone. I opened our chat, and a voice message came through the speaker: “I’ll fake a car accident in the country to create the illusion of your deaths. Your ID documents will also be cancelled. Good luck.” I replied with a simple “okay.” My anxious heart finally settled down. This was the last step of faking our deaths, and the reason I had given the shop owner so much gold jewelry. Just getting passports wouldn’t have cost nearly that much. After coming up with the idea of faking our deaths to escape, I immediately thought of the shop owner. With her extensive connections, she could surely help us cover our tracks. Sure enough, she did it. The cruise ship set sail, heading out to sea. Sophia and I followed a steward to our room. The cruise sailed for twenty days, with nightly banquets. We had originally planned to go out and eat. But on a cruise departing from New York, people at the banquets might recognize me and Sophia. We could only hide in our room, relying on the compressed biscuits in the backpack to stave off hunger. When the biscuits ran out, we could only sneak out to eat after the nightly banquets ended. After twenty days, Sophia and I looked pale and sickly from hunger. But the cruise ship had also arrived in the country of the city of romance. We had escaped. 7

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At our wedding, my wife Jessica Greene suggested that her stand-in marry me, Chris Morgan, while she traveled the world with her lover, Logan Parker. Everyone thought I would be furious and cancel the wedding. Instead, I just smiled and handed her the financial report, telling her to enjoy life with her lover while I took care of the company’s small matters. My wife thought I had finally been tamed. After casually signing the contract I gave her, she promised me that when she came back, I would get a promotion and a raise. What she didn’t know was that what she signed wasn’t a financial report at all. It was the transfer of her shares and our divorce agreement. A month later, when my wife returned, eager to take back control of the company, she found that I had become the new CEO and that she had been fired. The self-proclaimed clever woman was left stunned. “Chris, the stand-in’s already changed into her wedding dress. Go on and take the vows with her. I’ve got a flight to catch, so I’ll leave you to it.” At the wedding, my CEO wife, Jessica, was wearing workout clothes. With a smile, she shoved another woman into my arms and urged me to go up and get married. It should have been a joyful day, but as I looked at the stand-in, who looked about seventy percent like Jessica, I couldn’t bring myself to smile. I had been with Jessica for seven years. When it came to our wedding, she always said she was too busy with work and didn’t have time. She kept saying, “Once the company is stable and we’re listed, we can talk about marriage.” I worked tirelessly for her, building teams, pulling in business, and sacrificing my youth and health. In the end, I helped the company go public. Finally, after all this effort, I thought our wedding day had arrived. I thought we would finally walk down the aisle together. But now, she had suddenly changed her mind and sent a stand-in to take her place. Seeing me stay silent, Jessica checked her watch, and her expression grew impatient. “Chris, it’s our big day. What are you giving me that sour face for? “If it weren’t for our seven years together, I would’ve let you go out there and make a fool of yourself with a stand-in. As it is, I’m being nice by letting you go through with this. “I don’t have time to waste with you. “Just tell me, are we getting married or not?” As soon as she finished speaking, our colleagues and friends, as if rehearsed, started pressuring me. “Chris, it’s just a different person walking down the aisle. Why make this difficult?” “Yeah, Mr. Morgan, with a wife like Ms. Greene, successful and beautiful, you won’t find better. You’re still married, whether it’s her or the stand-in.” “Besides, the stand-in looks almost identical to Ms. Greene. No one will know the difference. Why are you worried?” The guests all spoke in unison, almost scolding me as if I were the one in the wrong. It was obvious to me that from the start, I was the only one kept in the dark. And no matter how fine their words sounded, the looks in their eyes were filled with disdain and condescension. To them, I was probably just a dog on a leash owned by Jessica. After all, if Jessica truly loved me, why would she send a stand-in to marry me while she traveled the world with her lover? Instead of getting angry, I turned to look at the real culprit behind it all, Logan. Although Logan was Jessica’s lover, he had abandoned her ten years ago. Back then, Logan dumped her to flatter other rich girls. Now, seeing her become successful, he quickly came back, crying about how much he loved her over the years and claiming his departure had a hidden reason. To my surprise, Jessica not only believed him right away but also brought him into the company as an executive. To even accompany him on a trip, she casually found a substitute to cover for my carefully prepared wedding. The next moment, Logan noticed my gaze and grinned even wider. “What are you staring at? Jessica didn’t completely ditch you. She even found a stand-in to help you with the wedding. You should be grateful. “If you don’t want Jessica to go on a trip with me, just say it. Don’t act all innocent like a martyr. You think no one can see through your schemes?” I listened to Logan’s accusations, but I couldn’t help but laugh coldly inside. Logan’s tactics were as low as they were before when we worked together in the company. Since he came back to the country and Jessica brought him into the company, he had been using these twisted words to deliberately provoke me. Little by little, not only had the entire company started to gossip about me being a master of disguise, but Jessica also began to believe that I was a ruthless schemer. Logan’s taunts only seemed like straightforward honesty to her. But this time, I wasn’t going to play along with their childish game anymore. With that thought, I didn’t get angry. Instead, I smiled lightly. “How could I stop you two from going on a trip? “Ms. Greene has worked so hard for the company. Now it’s my time to give back. “As for the wedding and the company’s matters, I’ll follow Ms. Greene’s decisions. You two just go and enjoy your trip.” With that, I handed Jessica a stack of papers and smiled. “Ms. Greene, here’s this month’s financial report. If you sign it, I’ll notify the finance department to release the salaries this afternoon.” Seeing that I agreed so easily, Jessica was momentarily stunned. She stared at me for a long time before finally nodding in satisfaction, not even glancing at the papers, and just flipped to the last page, signing her name in bold strokes. “It would’ve been better if you did this earlier. You did well today. “Handle the wedding and the company matters, and when I come back from the trip, we can consider giving you a promotion and raise.” If I had heard this before, maybe I would’ve been happy, thinking Jessica finally recognized my hard work. But now, I saw clearly that she didn’t love me. She just didn’t want to handle everything herself. The company had just gone public, and everyone was swamped with work, left with countless problems. But she didn’t understand any of it. She was only looking for an excuse to go off with Logan, to relax and take a break. If she divorced me now, without me handling everything for her, how could she go out and date without worry? But when she mentioned promoting me and giving me a raise, Logan immediately furrowed his brow. “Managing the company for Jessica is already your responsibility. You don’t seriously think she’ll promote and raise your salary, do you? “If it weren’t for your incompetence and the company’s continuous decline in performance, Jessica wouldn’t be so tired that she needs to go on a trip to relax. “You agree, right, Jessica?” At that, I couldn’t help but twitch my lips. If it weren’t for Jessica insisting on bringing someone like Logan into the company and even giving him a major role as project leader, the company’s performance wouldn’t have been so bad. But Jessica didn’t hesitate for a second, immediately agreeing with Logan. “Logan’s right. I almost fell for your acting again. “A five thousand dollars salary a month? I’m not just giving it to you for free.” Hearing Jessica’s words, I couldn’t help but feel a bitter laugh rise in my chest. She actually had the nerve to bring up my salary. This company was my creation! It was because I saw how hard she worked alongside me that I transferred most of my shares to her as compensation. But after she became the CEO, she started taking advantage of everything. She became more and more demanding. All the sacrifices I made, in her eyes, became things I should have done. She even pushed me to the limit with my salary, claiming that long-time employees should set an example. Meanwhile, the new interns at the company were getting six thousand dollars a month, but I, the founder of this company, the one who built it from the ground up, was stuck with a measly five thousand. And even with that five thousand, I had to use it to cover my family’s daily expenses. By the end of the month, I couldn’t even save enough for a few packs of cigarettes. Before I could say anything, Jessica impatiently waved her hand and dragged Logan towards the door. “Alright, you handle the wedding and company matters. Logan and I have a flight to catch. “Behave yourself. When I return to the company, I might consider giving you a raise.” I watched as Jessica and Logan walked away with a cold smile. She still had no idea she wouldn’t be coming back to the company. If she had been even a little cautious just now, she would have realized that what she signed wasn’t just a financial report. It was the stock transfer agreement and the divorce papers. After the divorce, the shares she transferred, combined with the ones I originally held, now made up over 50%. In other words, I could call a shareholders’ meeting at any time, take over as CEO, and kick her out of the company. I wondered what her expression would be when she found out the company had already changed hands by the time she returned.

By the time Logan and Jessica were out of sight, I turned away and walked toward the wedding venue. Grabbing the microphone, I cleared my throat and announced. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m sorry to announce that today’s wedding is canceled. “But don’t worry, I’ll cover the bill. Enjoy yourselves, consider it an early Christmas’ Eve dinner.” The room erupted into shocked murmurs, but it quickly returned to its lively buzz. After all, who wouldn’t enjoy a free meal and drinks? As for me, I left the event immediately and rushed back to the company to hold an urgent shareholders’ meeting. Between uncertain love and the firm grasp of stock equity, the latter felt a lot more secure. Before the meeting started, my assistant reminded me that according to protocol, I still had to give Jessica a call to inform her. I shrugged, not bothered at all. After all, the agreement was already signed. Even if she objected, it wouldn’t change a thing. But when I picked up the phone, it was Logan who picked up first, and he immediately started yelling. “Enough, Chris. You really are pathetic! “I heard from the substitute that you canceled the wedding. Do you really think that will make Jessica feel sorry for you or care about you? “I’ve already blocked your number and WhatsApp on her phone. She has no idea what’s going on. Even if you change your number, it’s pointless. “Everyone can see that I’m Jessica’s true love. You’re just a figurehead husband. Did you really think you meant something? “Get back to your work. Jessica’s happy with me now and has no time for your petty problems.” With that, he hung up. The moment the call ended, everyone in the meeting room awkwardly glanced at me. But I didn’t care one bit. Jessica’s little stunt had been the talk of the company ever since Logan joined. It was obvious he was doing it to flaunt his relationship with her. But Jessica was letting it happen, even enjoying the attention. Before all this, I had been in a secret relationship with her for seven years, and no one had ever found out. She had repeatedly insisted we keep our relationship private and that we couldn’t have any rumors spreading around, especially not because of the company. It wasn’t until our marriage was announced that everyone found out we had been together for seven years. Seven years. I had hidden it like a mouse in the shadows, afraid it might affect her career. But now? As soon as Logan arrived, she wanted to shout to the world to prove to everyone that Logan was truly her soulmate. This was the difference between love and indifference. At this point, though, I wasn’t even angry. Instead, I almost felt sorry for Jessica. If she knew that Logan had kept an important matter like the shareholder meeting from her and dismissed it as nothing more than a trivial matter, she’d probably be so furious she might strangle him on the spot. The thought made me smile bitterly as I slammed Jessica’s stock transfer document down on the table. “I’ll be straight with you. From now on, I’m the largest shareholder and the chairman of the company. “Any objections?” Hearing this, no one in the room shook their heads. In fact, some of them even had a look of excitement in their eyes. After all, none of these people were particularly close to Jessica. They were just there to make money. They also knew that the company had reached this point because I’d been the one holding it together all along. Jessica knew nothing about management, and ever since Logan joined, he’d been making reckless decisions that had caused the company’s performance to plummet month by month. They were angry but had been too scared to speak up. Now that the company was back in my hands, they all wholeheartedly supported me. After taking care of everything, I returned to my office and received a message from Logan. In the video, Jessica, who had supposedly gone on a trip, suddenly changed into a wedding dress I’d never seen before, walking down the aisle with Logan hand-in-hand. “Chris, you canceled your wedding with the stand-in. What good did it do you? You only saved your sorry reputation. “You’ve never seen Jessica in a wedding dress, have you? “You don’t really think we’re on a trip, do you? “Jessica herself said she wanted to save her first time wearing a wedding dress for me, and that we would have our wedding to make up for all the years we lost.” I watched the video, which showed Jessica and Logan wearing matching wedding bands on their ring fingers, and I couldn’t help but scoff. Jessica had told me the reason she didn’t get me a matching ring was because the diamond ring didn’t come in a couple’s version. So she didn’t forget about the ring at all, she had already given it to Logan. After that, Logan didn’t stop taunting me almost every day. “Chris, it’s pretty late. You’re still stuck at the office, aren’t you? “You must be exhausted. Want me to send you some money for a coffee? After all, Jessica just transferred a million dollars to me. Oh, poor me, I have too much money and nowhere to spend it. “Chris, did Jessica not reply to your messages again today? Well, what can I say? We’re on our honeymoon, and her eyes are only on me. She’s too busy sightseeing with me to have time for you. Don’t get jealous now.” I looked at the messages Logan sent and could only coldly smile as I saved the evidence and forwarded it to my lawyer. With these pieces of evidence, even if Jessica tried to act like a sore loser and sue me, it would only backfire on her. A month flew by in no time. After working non-stop to adjust the company’s business, I was exhausted. Finally, I could get a good night’s sleep. But just as I was drifting in and out of sleep, a slap landed across my face. “Chris, it’s already past 4 a.m., and you’re still sleeping like a dead pig? “Get up and throw your stinky clothes out. Don’t dirty my luggage.” I looked up to see Logan suddenly standing in my home, a frown forming on my face. “Are you crazy? This is my house. How did you get in?” At that moment, Jessica walked in from the living room, looking completely indifferent. “Of course, I brought him here. “From now on, this room is Logan’s. It’s closer to the company, so it’ll be more convenient for him to come to work. Do you have any objections?” I was stunned for a moment and instinctively asked, “This is my house. If I don’t live here, then where am I supposed to live?” Logan scoffed dismissively, “Who cares where you live? “Ms. Greene paid your salary. You can rent a place on your own if you want. “And your house isn’t even yours, it’s Ms. Greene’s house. And Ms. Greene’s house is my house. I can let anyone stay in my house. What, you got a problem with that?” I stared at Logan, his illogical reasoning making me laugh in anger. These two were done pretending. At that moment, I couldn’t help but show a cold smile as I grabbed Logan and Jessica’s luggage. Seeing that I was obediently following their orders, Jessica finally nodded in satisfaction. “At least you know your place. When we head back to the office…” But before she could finish, I tossed their luggage straight into the river and turned around to smile at them. “Just tossing out some trash on my way to work. Don’t mention it. “Also, we’re divorced now. This is my house. If you don’t leave, expect the police to come knocking.”

With that, I slammed the divorce agreement Jessica had signed on the table and headed straight back to the office. After all, now that the company was listed, my time was extremely valuable, and there was a mountain of work waiting for me. Plus, now that Jessica and her people had returned, I could finally notify HR to handle their termination. After I finished talking with HR and was about to head back to my office, I found Jessica and Logan already sitting inside. As soon as Logan saw me, he couldn’t help but sneer, “Oh, look who it is, Jessica’s ex-husband! “You were so tough back at the house. I thought maybe you’d turned into some big shot after a month, but you’re still just working at Jessica’s company, huh? Jessica tilted her chin up proudly, looking like a rooster strutting around. “Chris, it seems I’ve been too nice to you over the years. That’s why you’ve become so selfish and ungrateful. “Even if you used dirty tricks to get me to sign the divorce papers and took more than your fair share of our assets, so what? “Don’t forget, I’m the chairman of the company, and you’re just one of my employees. “I can fire you anytime, and if I mess with your background check a little, I guarantee you’ll never work in this industry again.” Saying that Jessica threw the pot on the table to the ground, looking at me with a mocking expression. “If you want to stay in this industry, then use your tongue to clean the floor. Maybe I’ll think about giving you a job as a janitor at the company.” Before I could respond, Logan chuckled and teased, “Jessica, you’re just too soft-hearted. “Not only do you give Chris a job, but you’re also letting him drink such expensive coffee. You really are soft on your ex-husband. “Now you’ve got me jealous.” Hearing their sarcastic insults, I just found it amusing. So much for being the company’s CEO. It looked like she and Logan had been having too much fun this past month and hadn’t paid a single bit of attention to the company. She didn’t even know she’d been kicked out of the board. I shrugged, indifferent. “Fine, if you’re so capable, go ahead and fire me.” At that, Jessica froze for a moment, then snorted dismissively. “Chris, don’t think I don’t know what you’re thinking. Do you really think the company can’t do without you? “Let me tell you the truth. Do you really think I gave you a month to prove yourself? “You really thought I was going to make you the vice president? No. I was just using your experience to turn around the company’s decline and fix the situation with the poor performance and stock drop. “Now that the business adjustment is done, I could replace you with a dog as the director, and it wouldn’t matter. What do you think your value is now?” Logan, standing nearby, looked extremely impatient and waved his hand dismissively. “Jessica, stop wasting your breath on him. “Talking to someone like him is just like wasting your time. Once he gets blacklisted and can’t find a job, he’ll come crawling to us, begging for help.” Hearing this, Jessica smirked, walking with an air of superiority as she ordered. “HR, prepare a termination letter!” Soon, HR came back with the letter, but instead of handing it to me, they handed it to Jessica. At this, Jessica’s face turned sour. “What’s this for? “Are you new here? Don’t you know I’m the company’s CEO?” At that moment, I looked at her with disdain, slamming the board’s appointment letter onto the table with a cold laugh. “Oh, right, you probably don’t know. “After a unanimous vote at the shareholders’ meeting, I’m the new CEO now. “And you, Jessica… from this moment on, you’re fired!”

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I abandoned Lucas Song when he was at his poorest. “Did you really think I enjoyed squeezing into a tiny apartment with you, living in poverty?” When we met again, he had already become a wildly popular author and director. Reporters swarmed to interview Lucas about the inspiration behind his masterpiece, “The Monster in the Apartment.” He looked past the crowd, his eyes meeting mine as he smirked coldly. “The female lead in this book is indeed based on someone real. We had a brief connection once. “However, she’s dead now.” As the end credits rolled, the screen went dark. The lights in the theater gradually brightened. Quiet sobs could still be heard – many viewers hadn’t yet emerged from the emotional impact of the film. My friend Emma nudged me with her elbow as she wiped away tears. “Aria, I’m so glad I dragged you to see this! I loved the novel, but I never expected the movie to be this good and moving!” A complex mix of emotions churned inside me, but I held them back, not responding. Today was the premiere of “The Monster in the Apartment.” The premiere was meant to generate buzz before the official release, with a select audience getting to watch the film a week early. After the screening, the director, lead actors, producers and other key crew members would interact with the audience. The host was preparing to take the stage, and the audience’s attention quickly shifted, an air of excitement building. But most weren’t here for the lead actors. The film’s director and screenwriter, who was also the author of the original novel, Lucas Song, had far surpassed the two leads in fame. Since publishing his debut work “The Monster in the Apartment,” Lucas had consistently topped bestseller lists with his bold realism and gripping prose. His subsequent works were also hugely popular with readers, cementing his status as a literary superstar. With his handsome looks, female fans dubbed him “the genius author who doesn’t rely on his face.” Lucas continued to break new ground, adapting his first blockbuster novel into a film. Even when just the trailer for “The Monster in the Apartment” was released, the hype was so intense that even those outside literary circles knew about it. All these years, I had just been quietly following his career from afar. I met Emma, who also grew up in Muyu City, while studying abroad. We returned to China together, and Emma’s birthday happened to coincide with this premiere. Since she was a devoted fan of the novel, I agreed to accompany her. I clutched the premiere ticket tightly in my hand. The host walked to the center, smiling as he began his opening remarks. Media reporters in the front rows had already raised their cameras and microphones. My mind went blank, my heart inexplicably racing. It wasn’t until Emma excitedly patted me that I realized the key crew members were entering one by one. Excited screams erupted from the audience. “Lucas is even more handsome than in photos!” “I finally get to see my idol in person!” I looked up. My breath caught. I spotted Lucas immediately. Most of the camera flashes were focused on him. He walked calmly to the center. That handsome face now had an added air of coolness. His gaze was no longer as gentle as before, but calm like a deep pool. If my previous impression of Lucas was gentle, sensitive, and passionate… Cold, aloof, and distant would be all the words I’d use to describe him now. Lucas nodded slightly to the media, casting a quick glance over the audience. I was sitting in the back corner, unlikely to be noticed, so I let out a small sigh of relief. The entire venue quieted at the host’s cue, and reporters began interviewing the key crew members one by one. The media’s interest was entirely focused on Lucas. They only asked the male lead a few cursory questions before quickly turning their microphones to Lucas. “Mr. Song, ‘The Monster in the Apartment’ tells the story of young men and women finding redemption in a run-down apartment. The descriptions and details feel so real that many people deeply relate to and are moved by it. “So I’d like to ask, Mr. Song, are these experiences you’ve personally been through? Is the female lead based on a real person?” The venue fell silent for a few seconds as everyone waited for Lucas’s answer. Suddenly, Lucas looked past the crowd, his eyes meeting mine. My heart plummeted. He stared in my direction, smirking coldly. “The female lead in this book is indeed based on someone real. We had a brief connection once. “However, she’s dead now.” His words caused an uproar. “Oh my god, so this work actually has a real-life inspiration? Does this mean the story is Lucas’s way of commemorating this dead love interest?” Emma said. I gave a bitter smile. Only I understood Lucas’s meaning. In his heart, I had died completely that summer day long ago.

After the premiere ended, I said goodbye to Emma. As I waited for a ride by the curb, people around me were still discussing the “dead” female lead Lucas had mentioned. “My friend went to college with Lucas. I think I know who he’s talking about…” “Who is it?” “This girl called Aria Ning. She was broke but liked to pretend she was rich. People found out she was working as a waitress and hostess all over town. “The funniest part is, there were rumors she hooked up with Lucas, but then dumped him because he was poor. “Isabella Locke was the one who suppressed this gossip.” “Isabella Locke? The lead actress who was sick and couldn’t come today?” “Yeah, the wealthy heiress. She’s always liked Lucas, and had a complicated relationship with Aria Ning. I guess they were love rivals… I always thought the female lead was based on Isabella.” “Me too. Isabella is beautiful, comes from money, and is a good actress. She seems like the perfect match for Lucas.” I froze in place. Even after all this time, hearing Isabella’s name made my heart sink. Isabella Locke was the lead actress Lucas personally chose for “The Monster in the Apartment.” She was my nightmare. Isabella had destroyed so many things in my life, including my relationship with Lucas. For reasons I never understood, Isabella had always targeted me. In college, Isabella spread rumors that I was cheating on my boyfriend and had secretly aborted another man’s child. When the rumors came out, combined with my reputation as a goody-two-shoes top student, it spread like wildfire across campus. Isabella, as the student council president, deliberately brought up these rumors, indirectly confirming them. Although there was no direct evidence in the end, I was forced to take a leave of absence due to the pressure of public opinion. After several attempts to argue my case, no one believed me, including my father. My father cut off my bank card and made me stay at home to “reflect.” Furious, I ran away from home and had no choice but to find work to support myself. But then I was accused of pretending to be rich when I was actually broke. It wasn’t until years later, when I worked hard to get back on track academically and successfully applied to graduate school abroad, that my father started to look at me differently. Everyone believed Isabella, just because she was the Locke family’s daughter. Little did they know, she was only my father’s adopted daughter. Though adopted, she was especially doted on by my father. Since she was slightly older than me, my father tacitly acknowledged Isabella as the Locke family’s eldest daughter in public. My birth mother had passed away early on. I took my mother’s surname, so few people connected me to the Locke family. In college, I always kept my head down studying and never deliberately revealed my true identity to avoid attention. Isabella was different, flaunting her status as the Locke family’s daughter. While I was gradually overlooked, as if I were the outsider in the Locke family. Shaking off these thoughts, I realized the driver had arrived. As I got in the car, I suddenly changed my destination. “Take me to Bluespring Lane.” I stared absently out the window. We drove further away from the bustling city center, with more and more low-rise buildings appearing. Despite its pretty name, Bluespring Lane was just a cramped alley among dilapidated apartment buildings. Opening the car door, I stepped onto the damp, muddy ground. The apartment building in front of me had peeling walls, rusty security bars with clothes hanging from them, and a constantly dripping public faucet that seemed impossible to tighten fully, forming puddles where bicycles were parked, with spots of mold and moss growing nearby. The only thing that seemed capable of dispelling all the damp gloominess was the single yellowed light in Bluespring Lane. I walked straight into the alley. Most of the units here were rentals, crammed with confused and lost young people, cheap pots and pans, and noisy arguments. It was also where Lucas and I had once found solace in each other. Back then, I was penniless and desperate. It started pouring rain outside, so I randomly knocked on someone’s door. Lucas opened it. He was the one who took me in. I stood in front of the building entrance and lit a cigarette. My vision blurred in the bluish-white smoke from my fingertips. I vaguely sensed someone passing by and slowly looked up. Suddenly, I found myself staring into Lucas’s eyes. He stood before me, expressionless. I froze slightly, wanting to speak but hesitating. Lucas just said coldly, “Excuse me.” “Lucas?” My voice trembled slightly. He repeated coldly. “Please move aside.” I shifted slightly. Lucas walked into the building without looking back. I turned and called out to him. “You still live here?” Lucas paused briefly, turning his head to smirk. “What’s it to you?” He continued up a few more steps without stopping, just taking out a cigarette. I instinctively followed. But he turned back, his gaze icy. “Don’t follow me.” Seeing I didn’t move, Lucas leaned down, getting close to my face. He had the cigarette between his lips, tilting his head slightly. The glowing ember from my cigarette naturally lit the end of his. I could clearly see his eyes, but couldn’t read the emotions in them. He deliberately blew a smoke ring in my face. I choked, coughing uncomfortably. I still hadn’t gotten used to the harshness of cigarettes, only daring to take tiny puffs. “If you can’t handle smoking, don’t pretend.” Lucas slowly straightened up, saying mockingly. “And don’t act concerned about things you wanted to throw away.” My heart ached dully. My phone rang – it was Ryan, my childhood friend. Since I’d returned home, he’d been pursuing me. “Aria, is the premiere over? I’ll come pick you up.” “I’ve got hot pot ready at home, let’s eat together.” The stairwell was eerily quiet. Ryan’s voice came through clearly from the other end of the phone. Lucas glanced at the ring on my middle finger, his tone flat. “You’re engaged to him?” I hung up the phone, not getting a chance to explain before Lucas gripped my chin. He forced me to look up at him. Lucas sneered, but there was anger in his eyes. “You have a fiancé but you’re here trying to seduce me? Quite the player, aren’t you.” “I…” My eyes stung slightly. The grip on my chin hurt. Lucas suddenly let go and turned to go upstairs without looking back. “Someone who’s already dead to me, “Don’t appear in front of me again.”

Suddenly, footsteps coming down the stairs echoed in the stairwell. “Lucas, you’re back! “My fever’s mostly gone. I’m so glad you let me rest at your old place – I really didn’t want to go to the hospital… “Oh, I was just about to take out the trash. There was a lot of clutter in the apartment, so I helped clean it up for you.” It was Isabella’s voice. “Who told you to touch my things.” Lucas’s voice was ice cold. “Huh? I just thought a lot of that stuff wasn’t worth keeping…” Isabella was taken aback. The next second she put down the trash bag and tugged at Lucas’s hand. “Come on, don’t be mad. I didn’t know you don’t like people touching your stuff.” As Isabella was speaking, she noticed me and her movements faltered slightly. “Aria Ning? What are you doing here?” Isabella frowned, her tone somewhat sharp. Seeing no reaction from me, she suddenly made an “oh” of realization, let go of Lucas’s hand, and walked past him. She crossed her arms and stood in front of me, looking down her nose with a smirk. “Came running to latch onto success, did you?” “Or…” Isabella leaned in close to my ear, lowering her voice. “Ryan isn’t satisfying you?” Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw Lucas clench his fist. Isabella continued with a smile. “Should I remind you how you abandoned Lucas back then?” “You go first,” Lucas cut Isabella off. “I already called a car for you earlier, it should be waiting at the alley entrance.” Isabella was speaking to Lucas but looking at me triumphantly. “Then I’ll come find you at your place tomorrow, Lucas.” As she passed by me, she leaned in close to my ear again. “If you dare bother Lucas again, you know what the consequences will be.” I stumbled back slightly from her shove. Not long after Isabella left, it started pouring outside. I stood dazed in front of the building entrance. I took out my phone, debating whether to call Ryan. I had refused his offer to pick me up earlier. But now with the heavy rain, he was the only person I could think of to help me. The stairwell light behind me flickered off and on again. I turned around to see Lucas. His face was hidden in shadow, his expression unreadable. “Come up.” “What?” I was slightly stunned. “I need to go. I was about to call Ryan to…” The name “Ryan” seemed to provoke Lucas. Before I could finish speaking, he gripped my wrist tightly. “Come up.” “Lucas… let go of me…” I struggled to break free. Lucas’s grip only tightened. “Your fiancé doesn’t show up for hours, “You tell him not to come, and he just leaves you alone here? “You’re that eager to go with him?” “I need to go home…” I stubbornly tried to pull away. “Back to the home you share with Ryan?” Lucas’s tone grew increasingly cold. “He’s nothing but a hypocrite. You’re going to marry him?” “Lucas, let go of me!” The pent-up emotions finally exploded. My voice carried a hint of tears. “What does it matter to you… In your eyes, I’m already…” Lucas ignored me, dragging me up to the third floor. He unlocked the door one-handed, pulled me inside the apartment, and kicked the door shut. My wrist was gripped painfully as my back slammed against the wall. The light switch was accidentally hit. In the dim yellow light. Lucas’s eyes were bloodshot, his voice hoarse. “It matters to me.”

Outside the window was a rainy night. Inside was a tiny rented apartment. The sound of rain pounded relentlessly on my heart. I leaned weakly against the wall, eyes downcast, lashes trembling slightly. “Lucas, calm down.” I tried to keep my voice steady. But Lucas’s scent was making my thoughts chaotic. The smell of citrus body wash mixed with a faint tobacco scent enveloped me, along with waves of scorching heat. Hearing my words, Lucas’s tightly gripping fingers trembled slightly, as if trying to restrain himself, then loosened a bit. In that brief moment of withdrawal, the temperature and scent nearly dissipated. I instinctively grabbed the front of his shirt. Lucas froze, then his eyes darkened. I quickly pulled my hand back, avoiding his gaze. “I… “I need to go.” I pushed Lucas away, but he caught my wrist with one hand. He propped his right elbow on the wall above me, looking down. “Look at me.” A shadow loomed over me as my chin was gently tilted up, suddenly meeting Lucas’s dark eyes. “Say you like me.”

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