Category: English

My so-called best friend tricked me into coming to her house and pushed me onto her husband’s bed. She cried and said, “I’m pregnant and can’t satisfy him. You’re the only one who can help me!” The next day, she waved explicit photos of me in front of my face, threatening to send them to everyone I knew unless I came running every time her husband wanted me. I snapped. Grabbing a kitchen knife, I slashed at them—again and again. The last slash was for myself. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment I knocked on her front door. A second chance. “Jenna, what took you so long? I’ve been waiting here for half an hour!” Cassie was standing in the doorway in a pastel pink maternity dress with little bunny patterns, looking as sweet and innocent as ever. She’d pointed it out on one of our shopping trips, saying how much she loved it, so I spent half my paycheck to buy it for her. Her smile back then had made it seem worth it. That’s what best friends are for, right? At least, that’s what I told myself. All the clothes, makeup, and bags she flaunted—most of them were gifts from me. And what did she give me in return? A spot in her husband’s bed. Oh, and let’s not forget the photos. A whole night’s worth of explicit, high-definition evidence of me and her husband. She waved them in my face, threatening to send them to my friends if I didn’t crawl back every time he wanted me. Best friend? Sure. Some best friend. If I’d been given just one minute’s warning before that day, I never would have knocked on her door. But now that I’ve been given a second chance, they can both prepare for hell. I smiled faintly and held up a bag. “You said you were craving hot wings, right? I stood in line to get some for you.” Cassie’s face brightened a little at that, and she pulled me inside, pointing to the groceries piled on the counter. “Jenna, didn’t you say you had a craving for braised pork and lamb stew? I bought all the ingredients, so you can cook it up for us. That way, when my husband gets home, we’ll all have something nice to eat.” I glanced at the sink, still piled high with dirty dishes, and a flicker of mockery passed through my eyes. This was her usual trick. She’d pretend I wanted something, then guilt-trip me into coming over to wash dishes and cook meals for her and her husband. That’s exactly how it had gone the first time around. I’d been so naive back then, thinking it was just another one of her schemes to get me to play housemaid. I never saw it coming when she fed me aphrodisiac-laced food and sent me straight to her husband’s bed. Not this time. This time, I smiled and nodded, playing along. “Cassie, what would you do without me?” I said, my voice dripping with affection. Cassie giggled, her tone sugary sweet. “Even if I didn’t have my husband, I could never live without you!” I smirked slightly. Oh, don’t worry—I’ll make sure you get exactly what you deserve. While Cassie was distracted in the living room, munching on her hot wings, I picked up the stack of dirty dishes from the sink and smashed them—one by one—onto the floor. The sound of shattering porcelain echoed through the house. Cassie craned her neck, staring at the mess in shock. “Jenna, what the hell?! Why did you break all the dishes?” Putting on my best innocent expression, I pouted. “What’s wrong with you guys? These dishes are so greasy I couldn’t even hold onto them. They just slipped right out of my hands!” Her face turned red with rage. “Those dishes were imported! Do you know how expensive they were?!” She ran into the kitchen, crouching down to pick through the shards in search of anything salvageable. She wasn’t careful, though, and her hand slipped, leaving a deep gash. As she stood up, her foot caught on another shard, slicing her skin open again. Blood quickly seeped through her pink bunny dress, staining it a deep crimson. Honestly, the red looked much better on her than the pink. Cassie shrieked, panic and anger mixing in her voice. “I’m bleeding! I’m bleeding so much—oh my God!” She reached out to grab me, her bloodied hand stretching toward me like some grotesque horror movie scene. I took a step back, wrinkling my nose in disgust. “I’m squeamish about blood,” I said, pretending to feel faint. “It’s making me nauseous. I’ll wait for you in the living room.” Without a second glance, I strolled over to the couch and plopped down, ignoring her cries for help. Watching her stumble around, helpless and furious, was an absolute delight.

Not long after, Cassie’s husband, Ethan, came home from work, carrying a few bottles of red wine. The moment he spotted me, a strange smile crept onto his face. “Jenna, I knew you’d be here for dinner, so I went out of my way to grab some wine for us.” I gave him a faint smile. “How thoughtful. Now, why don’t you head to the kitchen and help Cassie with dinner? Make sure the pork is braised until it’s nice and tender—I like it that way.” Ethan’s face darkened, his brows furrowing. “Weren’t you two already cooking? Why do I have to do it?” I almost rolled my eyes right there. Back when Cassie announced she was marrying Ethan, I was the loudest voice against it. He was the walking embodiment of everything wrong with a man: broke, unattractive, stingy, and loaded with an ego the size of Mount Everest. Now, though, I had to admit—they were a match made in heaven. Lock them together forever, please. Cassie poked her head out of the kitchen, her face a picture of wounded innocence. “Ethan, Jenna broke all the dishes while washing them, and I cut myself on the shards. My hands and feet are bleeding!” Ethan set the wine down and walked over to the kitchen. The sight of the greasy mess on the floor mixed with blood was enough to make anyone gag. His face twisted with anger. “How old are you? You can’t even handle something as simple as washing dishes? What’s the point of having you around?” “Other men’s wives have dinner ready and waiting when their husbands get home. You’re just lazy as hell. If you weren’t pregnant, I’d have taught you a lesson right now.” The veins bulging on his forehead, the fists clenched at his sides, and Cassie’s trembling body told me all I needed to know—this wasn’t the first time he’d blown up at her like this. Of course, Cassie never mentioned it to me before. Probably because she was afraid I’d tell her parents, who’d either beat Ethan to a pulp or force them to divorce. Neither outcome was something Cassie wanted. Ah, love. The logic of the hopelessly infatuated is truly beyond comprehension. Cassie tried to soothe him, her voice meek and apologetic. “I swear I’ll do better next time, Ethan. Let’s just focus on cooking for now, okay? Jenna’s probably starving.” Ethan shot me a sleazy glance, his eyes lingering on me far too long before he let out a grunt. “Fine. For Jenna’s sake, I won’t make a big deal out of it today.” Cassie exhaled in relief, but her moment of peace was short-lived. As soon as Ethan turned back around, she threw me a venomous glare, jealousy written all over her face. I caught the whole thing in vivid detail thanks to the mirror hanging on the wall. Despite all his grumbling, Ethan didn’t forget to add his own little twist to the meal. I watched as he pulled a small vial from his pocket and began slipping something into the food—carefully lacing every dish with drugs. At one point, Cassie stopped him. “Ethan, if you spike everything, what am I supposed to eat? If I don’t touch any food, Jenna’s going to get suspicious.” Ethan snorted. “Fine. I’ll leave the salad alone for you.” Cassie beamed at him, her eyes practically sparkling. “I knew you loved me the most.” Listening to this exchange, I nearly burst out laughing. Cassie had started gaslighting herself now. Incredible. Then, as if the scene couldn’t get any more absurd, Ethan pulled out a bottle of Viagra from his pocket and popped two pills into his mouth. Cassie, seeing this, pouted like a jealous teenager. Ethan smirked, reached over, and gave her a firm smack on the butt. Her mood instantly flipped, and she giggled, blushing like she’d just won the lottery. Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic.

The dining table was packed with food—four dishes and a soup. Cassie eagerly placed a lamb rib on my plate, while Ethan poured me a glass of wine, both of them beaming with over-the-top hospitality that left no room for me to decline. “Jenna, I remember lamb ribs are your favorite. Don’t hold back—eat as much as you like.” “And I know how picky you are about wine. This one’s over $200 a bottle, so drink up,” Ethan added with a smirk. I responded with a soft smile but didn’t touch my plate. Instead, I grabbed a piece of pork from the platter and placed it on Cassie’s plate, my tone playful and indulgent. “Cassie, do you remember back in college when we used to grab pork knuckle rice from that food truck near campus? You’d always steal my pork knuckles. So today, it’s only fair the first bite goes to you.” Cassie’s smile faltered for a second before she forced it back into place. “I’m pregnant now, Jenna. I’m avoiding greasy food.” I pouted, feigning childish annoyance. “If you’re not eating, then neither am I!” Ethan jumped in to mediate. “Cassie, just have a bite. It won’t hurt.” Reluctantly, Cassie picked up the pork knuckle with the thickest layer of skin—the part that had been spiked with the most powder—and took a big bite. Afraid I’d notice anything suspicious, she exaggerated her reaction, chewing quickly and forcing a smile. “It’s really good, Jenna! You should have some too!” she said, piling several pieces of pork knuckle onto my plate with an almost vindictive enthusiasm. I smiled sweetly. “Cassie, you’re giving me all the tendons and leaving Ethan nothing to go with his wine. What’s he supposed to drink with?” With that, I picked up the pork from my plate and dropped it into Ethan’s bowl, giving him a playful wink. “You’re not going to tell me off for not using serving utensils, are you?” Ethan, taken aback by my sudden friendliness, stammered, “Of course not!” He immediately dug in, shoving a piece into his mouth. “This is amazing—so soft and tender!” he said, stuffing more into his mouth between compliments. Cassie, watching this little exchange, grew visibly annoyed. Her voice turned sour. “Ethan, since when do you love pork knuckle so much?” I laughed lightly and, just to provoke her, added more food to Ethan’s bowl. “What’s the matter, Cassie? Don’t tell me you’re jealous of me giving Ethan some food? In that case, I’ll just have to serve him even more!” “And not only am I going to load his plate, but I’m also going to drink with him after dinner. My alcohol tolerance is no joke—I’ll probably have Ethan passed out under the table in no time.” I turned to Ethan, flashing a challenge. “You’re not going to chicken out, are you?” Ethan, always the vain and self-centered type, couldn’t resist. He puffed out his chest and smirked. “Me? Back out? Not a chance. But don’t come crying to me when you can’t keep up!” With that, he polished off the food I’d given him and raised his glass to toast me. I was careful, though. I only drank the wine I’d opened myself. While Ethan was busy trying to outdrink me, I sipped cautiously, knowing full well what kind of people I was dealing with. As a sales professional, drinking was practically in my job description. Knocking back ten Ethans wouldn’t be a problem for me. The more we drank, the more Ethan focused on pouring glass after glass, desperate to get me drunk. He’d forgotten all about convincing me to eat. Meanwhile, Cassie sat to the side, seething with jealousy, her expression twisted and ugly. Cassie wasn’t just a hopeless romantic—she was also incredibly paranoid. Back in college, she had two other close friends from our dorm. We used to hang out and eat together all the time. But one day, during a casual dinner, one of them complimented Ethan’s looks out of politeness. Another got a compliment from Ethan on her figure. That was all it took for Cassie to cut ties with both of them, spreading rumors behind their backs that they were “homewreckers” trying to steal her man. The only reason she stayed close to me was because I’d always made it clear how little I thought of Ethan. My disdain for him was what kept her trust intact.

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Title: My Husband Took My Heart to Save His First Love. At Their Engagement Party, He Cried Over My Photo. After my death, my husband personally performed the autopsy on my body. He took my faintly beating heart and gave it to his childhood sweetheart, Sophia Reed. The five-month-old baby I was carrying was removed and cremated without hesitation. It was then I realized: I was nothing more than a temporary vessel for a heart he had always intended to give Sophia. But three months later, on the day of their engagement, I saw him hiding in the dressing room, crying his eyes out over my picture. The cold blade of the scalpel sliced through my pale skin. I hovered above, watching everything unfold. As a ghost, I couldn’t feel pain anymore. Yet, when Steven Anderson opened my chest cavity, my soul trembled violently. The tiny, blood-covered baby lay curled up, lifeless. That was the child I had fought so hard to conceive after my miscarriage. Steven had wanted a child so badly. I thought he might at least feel a flicker of grief. But when he saw the baby, he turned his face away, uninterested. Instead, his trembling hands eagerly cut into my chest, extracting my warm, beating heart. His excitement was palpable—his shoulders shook as he worked, so much so that he accidentally knocked over a glass container on the surgical table. The sharp crash echoed through the room, shattering the sterile silence. A nurse assistant rushed in after hearing the sound. “Dr. Anderson, is everything okay?” she asked nervously. I lowered my gaze to the operating table, staring at my own mangled, unrecognizable face. It brought back the memory of the accident—glass shards from the shattered windshield piercing my eye socket, the deformed car crushing half of my skull. I had worked so hard to carry this child, hoping it would bring Steven and me closer. In the end, it cost the baby its life. “Prepare the heart for transport,” Steven instructed, his voice steady and emotionless. “Get it into the preservation container and take it to OR 3 immediately. Sophia Reed in Room 315 is ready for surgery.” He removed his bloodstained gloves, adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses with his usual detached composure. “I’ll perform the surgery myself. Make sure every nurse and assistant is on standby—I won’t tolerate even the slightest mistake.” He was so… in love. Sophia Reed, his childhood sweetheart with congenital heart disease, had been rushed to the hospital three days earlier when her heart began to fail. And five days ago, I had been in a car accident. The engine had been tampered with. I remembered the thick black smoke pouring from the hood, far too dark to be normal. I knew it was Sophia who had orchestrated it. She hated me more than anyone else in the world. She needed my heart to survive. And she wanted Steven to be hers forever. “What about your wife’s body?” the nurse asked hesitantly, glancing at the lifeless baby still cradled in my abdomen. “There are no other family members to claim her remains,” she added. “According to protocol, the body can’t stay in the morgue for more than a week.” Steven adjusted his glasses, his expression unreadable as always. “Call Lila Harper,” he said. “She was her closest friend from the orphanage.” I didn’t understand. I didn’t know why. My lifeless body lay exposed, chest cavity wide open, utterly vulnerable. Steven didn’t even think to hold me one last time. I was always afraid of the cold. I was always afraid of pain. Now, even as a disconnected soul, I felt a searing, tearing ache when I looked down at the gaping hole where my heart used to be. The nurse sighed and shook her head, zipping up the body bag to preserve the last shred of dignity I had left. She pushed my body into the cold, dark drawer of the morgue. The darkness I had always feared swallowed me whole. Steven didn’t look back. He was already rushing to save Sophia, the love of his life, with the heart he had stolen from me. I wanted to ask him: In our three years of marriage, was there ever a moment when you loved me? If you knew Sophia had been behind the accident that killed me and our baby, would you feel even a flicker of anger? Would you shed even a single tear for me? But his right hand—the one that once wore a wedding band—no longer bore any mark of commitment. He had taken off his ring within an hour of my death. He couldn’t wait to rid himself of the burden I had become. I couldn’t find the words. I realized then that even a soul could cry. Transparent tears fell from me, vanishing into the air before they could touch the bloodied operating table. Steven Anderson never loved me. I had known that all along.

My husband never loved me.Our three-year marriage was something I shamelessly begged for. In a way, I have Sophia Reed to thank for that. Her congenital heart disease meant she could never bear children for the Anderson family, giving me the perfect opportunity to swoop in. I still remember the first time I met Steven Anderson. It was at a shopping mall. I had been so busy with work that I skipped meals, and the low blood sugar hit me hard. Just as I was about to collapse at the edge of an escalator, a pair of hands pulled me back in time. He was wearing a crisp white shirt, the faint scent of rubbing alcohol lingering on his sleeves. Even his hair was neatly combed. “I’m a doctor. Let me help you,” he said, his deep eyes framed by gold-rimmed glasses. Later, I ran into him again at a late-night diner. He was drinking heavily while picking at a bowl of ramen. The owner looked worried—it was almost closing time, but Steven’s table was crowded with empty sake bottles. His neck was flushed from the alcohol, his glasses lying forgotten on the table. His lashes trembled under the dim, flickering light. “I know him,” I lied to the owner. “I’ll make sure he gets home.” In truth, I didn’t even know where Steven lived. I ended up dragging his drunken body into a cab and taking him back to my apartment. That night, one thing led to another. When I woke up the next morning, Steven was gone. The sheets were neatly made, as if nothing had happened. Only the marks on my skin served as evidence of what had taken place. Later, I found $5,000 transferred to my bank account with a note: “Sorry. Consider this compensation. If this feels inappropriate, I’m open to discussing further reparations.” I didn’t touch the money, nor did I reach out to him. But soon after, I found out I was pregnant. When I told Steven, his face turned ice-cold. Without a word, he furrowed his brow and prepared to take me to the clinic to terminate the pregnancy. But his father, Mr. Anderson, intervened. Their argument erupted in the hospital office. “This is the bloodline of the Anderson family. It must be kept, no matter what!” Mr. Anderson shouted. “If your mother were still alive, she’d want to see you settle down and start a family. I’m getting old—I can’t wait until I’m seventy to hold a grandchild!” “But Sophia has a heart condition,” Steven argued. “No matter how much I care about her, she can’t give us children. It’s better to hold onto this… temporary solution.” “And what about the woman?” Steven retorted, his voice rising. “How can I ask an innocent person to bear all of this for our family?” “You think I don’t know you don’t love her?” Mr. Anderson snapped. “But what is a marriage without love compared to the continuation of our family name?” Steven had already told me he didn’t love me. But in the end, he gave in to his father’s demands. I suppose my willingness to overlook everything also played a part in this hasty, transactional marriage. But the child didn’t survive. The second argument I overheard—outside Steven’s study—sealed my fate. He told his father that after I gave birth, he would give me a large sum of money and send me away from the Anderson family. Shaken, I lost my footing on the carpet and fell. That fall killed my first child. Looking back, I wonder if that was the moment I should have left. If I had walked away then, I might still be alive. I might have lost love, but at least I would’ve kept my life. But I didn’t take the hint. Steven fed me a spoonful of rice porridge after the miscarriage, and all my heartbreak evaporated in that single moment. I was stupid enough to think I could try again—to bear him another child. “The surgery went well,” Steven said, turning around. His surgical mask was splattered with blood. On the operating table lay Sophia Reed, her eyes closed, her breathing steady. The heart transplant had taken five long hours. In those five hours, I’d relived every humiliating moment of my life as if it were a tragic comedy. As the lights in the operating room dimmed, Steven walked toward his office. But before he could get far, Lila Harper stepped out of the shadows. Without a word, she punched him square in the face. “What the hell did you do to Ginger?” she shouted. “What’s with the stitches on her body? Where is the baby she was carrying?”

“The baby ?” Steven Anderson wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with his thumb, his expression cold as ever. “Medical waste,” he said, his lips curving into a faint, mocking smile. “Of course, it was sent to the incinerator for disposal.” My child… burned to ashes? After the miscarriage, my health had never recovered. I could feel Steven growing more distant by the day. During that time, Sophia Reed had several health scares. Every time, Steven would leave in the middle of the night after getting a call, returning hours later, utterly exhausted. He didn’t even have the energy to offer me an explanation. I’d met Sophia twice. The first time was at the hospital. She had just survived yet another brush with death, her pale face twisted into a triumphant sneer as she looked at me. “Ginger, you’re just Steven’s consolation prize, the substitute he settled for because he couldn’t have me,” she said with a cruel smile. “Now that you’ve lost the child, what else do you have to keep him?” The second time was at Mr. Anderson’s birthday banquet. The thoughtful gift I had spent weeks picking out was set aside, forgotten. Sophia took the stage and sang a song. It left the old man beaming with joy, and, for the first time, I saw Steven smile. So, he could smile. “I’m just not a man who smiles much,” Steven had told me once, in a tone I would never forget. “Don’t waste your time trying to make me happy.” It wasn’t that he couldn’t smile. He just didn’t want to smile for me. That was when I finally understood—his heart had never been mine. But I needed another child. If I wanted to have any place in the Anderson family, I had to make myself useful. I endured injections and medication, working to heal my body. In the end, all I achieved was becoming a lifeless corpse alongside that unborn child. Lila Harper stormed forward, grabbing Steven by the collar. “She risked her life to carry that child for you!” Lila shouted, her voice shaking with rage. “Do you even know how much Ginger suffered? She went through so many treatments that her muscles were wasting away!” Steven shoved her off with ease, his expression indifferent. “I didn’t know,” he said flatly. “And I don’t care to know.” “Give Ginger her heart back!” Lila snarled, her voice breaking. “Give her a whole body to bury! What you’ve done is illegal!” Steven tossed a donor card onto the table. My signature stood out in bold letters. The heart transplant had been authorized by me—three months ago. So it had all been planned. That day at the mall, when a volunteer had approached me about signing up for organ donation, Steven had stood beside me, coaxing me with words about “selfless love” and “helping others.” It hadn’t been a spur-of-the-moment decision. He had already decided back then that my heart would belong to Sophia. How ridiculous. And yet, I couldn’t help but wonder—had he also been involved in the car accident? The commotion drew the attention of hospital security. They restrained Lila, pinning her to the ground as she fought and screamed. Her hair was disheveled, the dark circles under her eyes making her look like a ghost. She slumped to the floor, whispering in a daze: “Why? Why? Ginger was afraid of pain, afraid of the dark, afraid of blood. She suffered so much growing up in that orphanage.” “She thought meeting you was the start of a brighter future.” “But instead, you dragged her into an even darker hell.” “She had no one in this world but you.” Steven smoothed out his rumpled collar, ignoring Lila’s accusations as if they didn’t exist. But I heard every word, and my heart ached. It was true. I had spent eighteen years in the orphanage and five years struggling to survive in the world. I thought I had seen every kind of darkness. When Steven appeared, I thought he was my light—a miracle I had traded all my luck for. But I was wrong. The security guard asked Steven if he wanted to press charges against Lila for assault. Steven shook his head. “Let her go. She can take care of Ginger’s burial arrangements. I have more important things to do.” “That’s your wife, Steven Anderson!” Lila screamed, her voice raw. Steven turned his head slightly, his tone as calm as ever. “Correction: she won’t be for much longer.” “And three months from now, at my engagement party with Sophia, you’re welcome to join for a drink—if you can behave yourself.”

I never thought i’d attend my husband’s engagement party—with another woman.He was marrying the very person who caused my death. At the engagement party, Sophia Reed wore a stunning white mermaid gown adorned with pearls, her skin glowing with a rosy hue that radiated health. My heart was beating in her chest, and she was clearly satisfied with it. So was Steven Anderson. He stood tall in his impeccably tailored suit, nearly identical to the one he wore at our modest wedding three years ago. The only difference now was the smile on his face—a wide, unrestrained joy that he didn’t even try to hide. They danced together in the center of the room, hand in hand, stealing the attention of every guest. It was a moment of adoration I had never dared to dream of for myself. In the center of the stage stood a three-tiered cake, the one Sophia had personally picked out, paid for by Steven. I remembered the moment vividly—I had been there, floating unseen, when I overheard their exchange. “Get whatever size you want,” Steven had said with indulgent affection. “Don’t worry about whether the guests can finish it. I’ll help you eat it.” But I knew for a fact that Steven didn’t eat sweets. How could I forget? On our third wedding anniversary, I had surprised him with a cream cake. His expression had been awkward, almost uncomfortable, as he took a small bite. “I don’t eat sweets,” he said flatly. “Don’t waste your time making these again.” I stood there, frozen, the frosting still smudged on my face. “I’m heading back to the hospital,” he added, handing me the untouched plate. “Just throw it out, and don’t bother with this next time.” I had convinced myself that it was my fault for not learning his preferences sooner. But now, it was clear: his preferences depended entirely on the person. Everything I had tried so hard to attain, Sophia had achieved effortlessly. She took my heart, my husband’s love, and perhaps even secured her family’s financial support for the hospital. After the engagement party, her parents announced they would significantly increase their investment in the hospital’s research programs. Steven was the happiest man in the room. He drank so much that he had to excuse himself to the dressing room to change and sober up. The door closed behind him, and I felt my soul being pulled along, following him inside. I watched as he staggered to the couch, slumping down heavily. He loosened his tie with a sharp tug, his earlier smile suddenly replaced by a frozen stillness. Then, he pulled out his phone, unlocking a private photo album with facial recognition. Inside, there was only one picture. It was an image of him posing with a patient who had just been discharged from the hospital. There were no photos of us—no memories of the life we had shared. But when he zoomed in on the corner of the photo, the blurred face of a passerby came into focus. It was me. I had been caught in the background, an accidental fragment of the moment. “Ginger… Ginger…” He murmured my name under his breath, and his broad shoulders began to tremble. When he looked up again, his eyes were bloodshot, tears pooling and spilling over. What was this? I was already dead. He had never cared for me when I was alive, never once said he loved me. So who was this display for now? Or… could it be that some part of him truly did feel sorrow for me? “Ginger, I’ll avenge you,” he whispered, his voice shaking. “For our child, I’ll make the one responsible pay in blood.” I froze, stunned, wondering if I had misheard. But before I could process his words, the dressing room door suddenly swung open.

The one who entered was sophia reed.She had come looking for Steven Anderson, who had been absent from the party for too long. But she didn’t see the photo on his phone, nor did she notice the tears he had quickly wiped away. By the time Sophia arrived, Steven had already returned to his usual calm and composed self, offering her a mechanical smile. “Steven, what’s taking so long to change? The guests are waiting for us. Let’s go back out!” She reached out to pull him up, but he subtly dodged her touch. Using the haze of alcohol as a shield, Steven pressed his hand to his temple, squinting slightly. He managed to stand briefly, only to collapse back onto the sofa. “I’m still too drunk,” he said, his voice low. “I’ll need another couple of cups of sobering tea. You go ahead, I’ll join you in a moment.” The phone tightly clutched in his hand caught Sophia’s attention. Curious, she picked it up and began flipping through it. She scrolled through his folders, even opening his private album, but found nothing—no trace of me. “What’s wrong?” Steven asked, feigning indifference. “Nothing,” Sophia replied, handing the phone back. “I thought maybe you were still holding onto thoughts of that dead woman, Ginger.” Steven let out a bitter laugh. “How could I possibly still think about her? She was nothing more than the donor I found to give you a healthy heart.” What was he doing? The same man who had just shed tears over my photo was now speaking such heartless words. Which version of him was the truth? “Good,” Sophia said with a satisfied smile, her lips curling upward. She pressed her hand to her chest. “Thanks to her heart, I can stand here by your side today. And soon, I’ll officially be your wife.” Sophia left the room, her heels clicking against the floor, completely unaware of the change in Steven’s demeanor behind her. The smile faded from his face, replaced by an expression of cold, dangerous intensity. His trembling hand, which had just been hiding behind his back, deleted the photo from his phone. His fingers shook as he pressed the button, the redness in his eyes returning as if it had never left. His clenched fist turned white at the knuckles, and though I was nothing more than a soul, I could hear the low, guttural sob that escaped his chest. “Ginger,” he whispered, broken and raw, “this is my fault. If I had just loved you a little more, maybe we wouldn’t be separated like this—between life and death.” I couldn’t understand him anymore. I wanted to reach out and hold him, to comfort him, but my hand passed right through his body. I grasped at nothing. The only thing I touched was the fabric of his collar, the way I used to straighten it for him every morning before he left for work. Steven froze for a moment, his eyes widening. He turned his head slightly and, for a brief second, his gaze seemed to meet mine. There was confusion in his eyes. And sadness. “Ginger…” he murmured my name, almost like a prayer. “I’m here,” I wanted to scream. “I’m here. I’ve always been here.” But he couldn’t hear me. The only response was the flickering light in the dressing room and the muffled buzz of celebration outside. The joy from the engagement party stood in sharp contrast to the desolation in Steven’s chest. He let out a bitter laugh, wiping his tears away with the back of his sleeve. Then he drained the glass of sobering tea in one gulp. Straightening his tie and squaring his shoulders, he walked out of the dressing room with purpose, heading back to the battlefield that awaited him. Once again, I had been wrong. My husband… it seemed he did love me. He loved me deeply.

Steven Anderson drank until he was completely unconscious. As the party wound down, Sophia Reed helped Steven into the car, intending to take him home. But before they could drive off, Steven suddenly grabbed her wrist with surprising force. “Sophia, you’ve had a long day. Go home and get some rest,” he said, his voice hoarse but steady. “But I… I want to take care of you,” Sophia stammered, her cheeks flushing red. Her lips parted with a soft whimper. “I’ve been out of the hospital for so long, but you’ve barely spent any time with me.” Her slender fingers trailed up his chest, her face leaning in close to his. Steven’s stomach churned violently. The next moment, he turned his head and vomited, the foul mix of bile and alcohol splattering all over Sophia’s face. The stench soaked into her hair and dress. “I’m sorry,” Steven muttered, furrowing his brows in pain. “You should go home and clean up. Don’t worry about me.” Embarrassed and frustrated, Sophia clenched her fists. After hesitating for a moment, she opened the car door and left, not forgetting to remind Steven’s father to ensure Steven got home safely. But there was something she didn’t know: Steven could hold his liquor remarkably well. Even an entire table of sake hadn’t been enough to completely knock him out. And his father didn’t know either. Mr. Anderson helped Steven to bed, wiping the vomit from his face with a damp towel while muttering softly to himself. “I know you’re happy, but you didn’t need to drink like your life depended on it!” “With today’s engagement, the hospital’s funding from the Reeds is locked in for at least the next decade. All my efforts to win them over have paid off.” “I’m getting old, son. My health’s deteriorating. I don’t have many years left to look after you. Seeing you settle down and build your future… your mother would finally be at peace.” Steven’s eyes snapped open. “Don’t mention my mother!” he roared, his voice sharp and filled with venom. “You have no right to talk about her!” He sat up abruptly, his movements swift and purposeful—nothing like a drunk man. Mr. Anderson froze in shock, stumbling back onto the chair beside the bed. “What a joke,” Steven said, his laughter cold and bitter. “You love bringing her up, don’t you? The woman who died because of you?” “You knew she had a heart condition, but you insisted she get pregnant. And when it came down to the final moments, you chose to save the baby instead of her.” “I wouldn’t have been born motherless if it weren’t for you!” Mr. Anderson’s face turned ashen, his trembling lips unable to form a coherent response. “How… how did you find out?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Were you afraid I’d learn the truth?” Steven sneered. “You schemed to let my mother die so you could take her inheritance and dowry for yourself. Every move you make is for your own benefit, but you dress it up as noble sacrifice. Doesn’t it make you sick?” Steven didn’t wait for an answer. “You’ve been using me to cozy up to the Reeds. When you found out Sophia needed a heart transplant, you started looking for a match. You knew exactly who Ginger was from the start.” Steven reached over and unlocked the drawer by the bed, pulling out a stack of papers. He tossed them onto his father’s lap. They were my bloodwork results, taken after I fainted and was admitted to the hospital for low blood sugar. The report confirmed I shared the same rare blood type as Sophia. “My mother died waiting for a heart donor,” Steven said, his voice sharp. “You were so sure I’d support organ donation because of what happened to her. And you were equally sure Ginger loved me enough to agree. So, in the three minutes I stepped away, you sent in a prearranged hospital volunteer to trick her into signing the donor card.” It all came flooding back to me. That day, the volunteer had told me: “As the daughter-in-law of the hospital director and the wife of Dr. Anderson, it’s only fitting for you to support medical advancements.” I had thought it was Steven’s idea. But it wasn’t. He hadn’t known. In fact, he was the one standing up for me now, demanding justice. Beside the bloodwork was another report—a DNA test. “You knew,” Steven said, his tone icy. “You knew Ginger was the youngest daughter the Reed family abandoned. They left her at an orphanage because she was born deaf in one ear.” I instinctively touched the hearing aid I wore. It had long since become a useless decoration. I had forgotten so much, confused my memories. I thought Steven was the one who made me sign the donor card. I didn’t remember how he spent sleepless nights finding the perfect hearing aid for me. I only remembered his cold words, not the quiet love hidden beneath them. “Eat less greasy food—it’s bad for your heart.” “Don’t ride roller coasters or do anything too intense.” He always said these things with a stern face. I thought he was just annoyed with me. But now I understood. Steven had been worried I might have the same heart condition as Sophia—or worse, that I might die suddenly like his mother. He told me that if I gave birth to the child, he’d give me a large sum of money. I thought it was to send me away, but it wasn’t. It was compensation—a way to protect me from his father’s schemes and the Reeds’ ambitions. Steven must have seen through his father’s plans long ago. He wanted to get me out of that abyss. But he hadn’t expected Sophia to strike first. For the first time, Mr. Anderson’s expression cracked, his usual arrogance replaced by fear. Steven let out a hollow laugh. “The Reeds abandoned their own daughter. You killed her to gain their favor. But I was her husband—I won’t abandon her.” “So tell me… what do you think I’m going to do?” Steven’s laughter grew wild, unhinged. I felt a pang of worry and rushed toward him.

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I thought a man with “three legs” was too much trouble, so I married a “two-legged” husband instead. My husband was impotent and had a volatile temper. He was cold and heartless to everyone else, but gentle only to me. I was the only one who could soothe his irritable moods. I thought we were the perfect platonic couple. Until a week before our wedding, I discovered he had been keeping an 18-year-old girl on the side. The girl came to me with a list of hotel check-ins and a stack of condom receipts. 99 check-ins, 693 condoms. “Sister, you must know how strong and powerful my darling’s ‘third leg’ is, right?” she smirked. “The unloved one is the mistress. Evelyn, my darling can’t even get it up for you, can he?” I looked across the table at this young girl with a ponytail, wearing a pure white dress. She looked exactly like me when I was eighteen. I lit a cigarette and took a drag, feeling a sharp pain in my lungs. The girl kept chattering away. “It’s too sad to marry someone who doesn’t love you, Evelyn. You should find someone who loves you. That’s the only way you’ll be happy in the future.” I slowly exhaled, forming a smoke ring. Listening to her words, I couldn’t help but laugh. The girl’s expression crumbled a bit. “What are you laughing at?” “Evelyn, your fiancé told me he loves me in your marital home. Shouldn’t you be reflecting on yourself instead of laughing? Don’t you believe that with just one phone call, my darling will do anything for me?” I laughed so hard tears came to my eyes. I couldn’t help coughing a couple of times before saying, “I believe you.” I stubbed out my cigarette and looked at the girl. “Derek doesn’t know you came to see me, does he?” The girl froze, a flash of embarrassment crossing her face. I was already thirty years old. Teenage girls wear their thoughts on their faces. However, she only paused for a second before speaking, “Even if he knew, he wouldn’t do anything to me.” Saying this, she seemed to call Derek out of spite. Hearing the ringing tone, I felt a glimmer of anticipation in my heart. When the call connected, the girl began speaking coquettishly, “Darling, do you love Evelyn?” Derek replied almost without hesitation: “I love her.” My heart sank, but he continued, “Or at least I used to. Now I love you the most.” The girl asked sweetly, “If I got into a fight with Evelyn, whose side would you take?” The voice on the other end of the phone was full of indulgence: “Yours, of course, my little princess. But you’ll have to help me out tonight too.” I gripped my cup tightly, my face expressionless.

From a young age, I lived with my grandmother in a dilapidated, unfinished building. My mother ran off with someone else, complaining about our poverty. My father went to work on ships to earn money for my grandmother and me. He disappeared on his second trip out. His death benefits barely supported my grandmother and me. I was always either studying or working part-time jobs. The day I met Derek, I was being mugged by some thugs. He appeared like a guardian angel, but even he couldn’t fight off so many attackers alone. Derek was kicked in the groin. Fortunately, the police arrived in time, but I still found out about his… functional impairment. From then on, my goal of working hard to provide for my grandmother gained another purpose: To repay Derek, and to seek revenge for both of us against those who had attacked us. But I never expected those people to come directly to my home. My grandmother was pushed while trying to protect me, and she became paralyzed. It was Derek who appeared again to save me. He helped me take my grandmother to the hospital and paid for her hospitalization and medical expenses. He even hired a caregiver to look after my grandmother so I could focus on my studies. Unfortunately, despite the enormous amount of money that I couldn’t repay, my grandmother still died in the hospital. Before she passed away, she said that Derek was a good person, but we shouldn’t take his kindness for granted. The hospitalization costs must be repaid. After burying my grandmother, I became Derek’s assistant. I worked for Derek, keeping only $500 for living expenses and sending the rest to him to repay the debt. I also learned self-defense for free, partly to prevent being attacked again, and partly to take on the job of Derek’s bodyguard. The salary from that job also went straight into Derek’s account to repay the debt. Secondly, I had to avenge my grandmother. As I got busier, the little white dress I used to love became a hindrance. I took off the dress, and to make my bright appearance look more intimidating, I had my entire back tattooed with a dark pattern. Two years passed. I got my revenge, and the debt was cleared. But no matter what treatment method was tried, Derek’s “third leg” remained useless. He became a man with the tool but unable to use it. I stayed by his side like I was atoning for a sin, ready to do whatever he asked. It wasn’t until he confessed his feelings to me that I realized it wasn’t atonement – I loved him. I had been with Derek for eleven years, from a loyal subordinate to a girlfriend, and then to a loving fiancée. With my assistance, he became an underworld kingpin in the city. Our life was peaceful. Although Derek couldn’t use his “tool,” he liked to hold me in bed at night. He would press my head against his chest and repeatedly stroke my hair that never seemed to recover from its dryness. “Evelyn, I still prefer how you used to be.” I always answered him, “Isn’t this still me?” It wasn’t until this 18-year-old girl showed up that I realized what he meant. The “me” he was referring to was the one who hadn’t taken off the little white dress for him. The one who couldn’t escape poverty and needed him to shelter her from the wind and rain. Now, this me who shielded him from the bloody storms of the underworld, who was called “Big Sister” by a group of subordinates – he didn’t like this version of me. I always believed what my grandmother said, that Derek was a good person. But this good person’s affection had stopped at my 18-year-old self.

After parting ways with the young girl, I went to inspect the port before heading home. But I ran into Derek, who was just about to leave. He saw me and frowned, “Why are you back so late?” I sidestepped him and said, “I had some business to take care of.” Derek nodded, not asking further, “I need to go to the port to receive a shipment. I won’t be back tonight.” “Be good at home, honey.” He leaned in to kiss me but stopped at arm’s length. “Why do you smell so strongly of cigarettes?” “Didn’t I tell you to smoke less?” The man’s furrowed brow and expression showed a hint of disgust. Looking at his reaction, I remembered the young girl’s smug smile earlier: “Sister, Derek loves the milky scent on me.” I suddenly felt a bitterness in my heart. But wasn’t it you, Derek, who gave me my first cigarette? Standing in the darkness, I forced a smile, “Derek, why don’t we break up?” Derek’s face changed instantly. “Evelyn, are you going through menopause or something? What kind of nonsense is this?” “Break up? Who else would want a wife like you who smokes, drinks, and has tattoos?” “Look in the mirror. Do you still think you’re eighteen?” As he was berating me, his phone rang. He picked it up, glanced at the screen irritably, but didn’t hang up. Instead, he muted it. Then he impatiently tossed a sentence at me: “The port is urging me. Stop having these ridiculous thoughts. Be good and don’t give me trouble.” I remained silent, watching him leave. Only when Derek’s figure had completely disappeared did I lean against the wall and start vomiting. Seeing the streaks of blood in the vomit, I laughed bitterly. I had just come back from the port. How could I not know whether there was a shipment tonight?

Back in my room, as if possessed, I opened my tablet. Looking at the surveillance software on it, I hesitated. When we were renovating our marital home, I was afraid of being cheated by the workers, so I installed hidden cameras in every corner of the house. It was originally for monitoring the construction. Involuntarily, I opened the software. The quiet scene made me breathe a sigh of relief. But before I could close it, the sound of a door opening came through the monitor. Derek and the young girl in a school uniform urgently entered, kissing passionately. My gaze involuntarily fell on Derek’s “tool” that he said couldn’t be used. Although it was partially blocked by the girl’s body, in the moments when they were frantically removing each other’s clothes, I saw Derek’s erect, engorged state. The two had only half undressed before they urgently began their primal dance. I felt a lump in my throat and almost couldn’t breathe. Covering my mouth, I coughed more severely. But my eyes were glued to the tablet, unable to look away. “Baby, you smell so good. Not like my wife, she reeks of cigarettes.” “Derek, when are you going to come clean with her? I can’t satisfy you all by myself.” “What’s the rush? Don’t you think a 30-year-old virgin is more fun to play with?” “…” My chest ached sharply. Even though I had already decided to give up on this relationship when the young girl came to see me, seeing these scenes still made my tears fall uncontrollably. On the screen, the two had already started another round. They were on the sofa I chose, the carpet, the bed, in the bathroom… Derek held the young girl again and again. “Derek, do you love me?” “I love you to death, my dear Aria.” “Then can you not touch that old woman after you’re married?” Derek responded with actions: “I won’t touch her, it’s all for you…” I remember when Derek and I first confirmed our relationship, he asked if I would mind not having a sex life in the future. I said I wouldn’t. I was even afraid he might feel insecure, so I never held his hand or initiated kisses. I was afraid of hurting his pride. On so many nights, he would hold me, crying, saying, “Evelyn, I really want to have you. I only want you.” I had tried various degrading ways to help him get aroused. But it was all in vain. And now. The young girl in his arms only needed one kiss, and he was ready for action, again and again. I hugged the tablet. They went at it all night. And I watched all night. Until dawn, when the two fell asleep on my marriage bed. Only then did I close the tablet, my eyes sore and my heart in too much pain to breathe.

When I woke up again, Mrs. Wilson was standing by my bed, looking anxious and apologetic. “Ma’am, you’re awake? I’ve called Mr. Song many times, but I assume he must be busy.” I nodded, and suddenly a familiar figure appeared at the door – it was my attending physician. I found an excuse to send Mrs. Wilson away. “Miss Evelyn, have you still not quit smoking?” “Do you know you could die like this? You’re at risk of suffocation at any moment.” After a long silence, I suddenly spoke up. “Dr. Thompson, I don’t want to suffocate to death.” I’ve heard that in the final stages of lung cancer, people die from suffocation. Dr. Thompson was taken aback, then took a deep breath. “I have a friend at a hospital in the Netherlands. If you’re willing, I can help you with the paperwork for…” Just then, Mrs. Wilson suddenly ran over with a phone. “Ma’am, Mr. Song is calling.” She handed me the phone. I hesitated for a moment before answering. But a woman’s voice came from the other end. “Hello? Who are you? Why do you keep calling my husband?” I recognized this voice all too well. It belonged to the girl who had met me at the cafe yesterday and then appeared on the surveillance footage. Mrs. Wilson’s expression became conflicted for a moment. Soon, the sound of an argument came from the other end of the phone. “Aria, why are you using my phone?” “Derek, someone keeps calling you! Do you have another woman?” The man laughed. “What are you talking about? You’re my only baby. This is the housekeeper’s number.” Then the man spoke into the phone, “Mrs. Wilson, is my wife throwing a tantrum again?” “Just make up some excuse. I won’t be coming home for a couple of days, I’m spending time with my baby.” Mrs. Wilson’s expression clearly showed she wanted to stop him, but Derek had already spoken. “I’ve got to go. Oh, and send over that white lace nightgown from the guest room. My baby looks good in it.” With that, Derek hung up. I glanced at Mrs. Wilson. She had been with me for ten years. As long as I had been with Derek, she had been with me. I didn’t say anything, just returned the phone to her and looked back at the doctor. “Please help me with the paperwork.”

After staying in the hospital for a day, I was discharged. I returned home to find the villa still empty and cold. Derek hadn’t come back. I looked at the tablet on the table but didn’t want to open it again. “Mrs. Wilson, please help me pack my luggage.” “Ma’am, Mr. Song, he… he still loves you in his heart, and you’re about to…” As Mrs. Wilson was speaking, my phone screen lit up. I glanced at the euthanasia application form sent by Dr. Thompson and smiled, “Mrs. Wilson, if you still have any regard for our relationship over these years, please don’t tell him about this.” Mrs. Wilson’s words caught in her throat. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I… I really have no choice.” But I had already started packing. I took out all the clothes Derek had bought for me from the wardrobe. Only then did I realize they were all in dull black and gray colors. As if in his heart, I could only wear such colors. I thought of Aria again. Her clothes, jewelry, bags, all came from Derek. But over the years, Derek had never bought me a single piece of jewelry or a bag. He would say, “What do you need those things for?” I packed them all into a large box, planning to donate them to a charity before I left. Halfway through packing, Derek came back. He saw me holding several large boxes in the living room and frowned, “What are you packing for?”

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After failing to save Declan on the operating table, my wife, Nora, harbored a lifelong resentment towards me. She terminated her pregnancy with our child, her eyes blazing with anger. “You did it on purpose because he was my first love, didn’t you?” Yet later, when an aggressive patient’s family came to confront us, she shielded me from a lethal attack. I did everything to save her, but she chose to let go of life. “At last, I can be with Declan…” Her father barred me from seeing her one last time in the morgue. His eyes were bloodshot, and he yelled in agony. “You bring misfortune, wasn’t taking one life enough? Now you’ve taken my daughter too!” No one stood up for me, as if I was the source of all misfortune. Returning to the past, I set down the scalpel and quietly said. “Transplant my heart to Declan.” This time, I stepped aside for their happiness. When I declared that my heart should be given to Declan, everyone in the operating room was stunned. The head nurse was incredulous. “Are you out of your mind? If you give your heart to the patient, what about you?” I replied steadily. “Declan can have my heart; I’ll receive an artificial one.” She tried to dissuade me. “Artificial heart technology isn’t mature; it has many side effects. We wouldn’t even recommend it for patients.” I shook my head, cutting her off. “Don’t say anything more. I’ve made my decision. Arrange the surgery for us now.” This time, I would ensure Declan survives. In the previous life, I spent 32 hours in the operating room, and when I emerged exhausted, I was met with a fierce slap from Nora. Her eyes were red, and she stared at me, demanding answers. “Why? Why couldn’t you save Declan? Aren’t you the best doctor in the city?” Facing her disappointed gaze, words failed me, and I fainted from exhaustion. When I awoke, I was hit with devastating news. Nora had aborted our child. Her eyes were filled with hatred as I questioned her, “You let him die on purpose because he was my first love, right?” “Someone as vile as you doesn’t deserve a child!” Thinking of that unborn child, my heart twisted in agony. Nora had a thin uterine wall, and during the abortion, she hemorrhaged, leaving her unable to have children ever again. I knew how much she loved children, and it became her eternal pain. This time, being reborn, I aimed to make up for all her regrets. Declan, the child, and… The marriage she always wanted to escape. The green light came on, the surgery was successful, and Declan and I were both wheeled out of the operating room. As soon as the door opened, Nora rushed in, anxious. She looked at Declan, still unconscious, tears streaming down her face. “Declan, how are you? Please don’t die, don’t leave me alone in this world, okay?” “Where’s Theo? He’s the best doctor in the city; why couldn’t he save you?” She looked up, searching for me. The head nurse, holding back anger, spoke coldly. “The patient isn’t dead; the anesthesia hasn’t worn off yet, so he’s still unconscious.” She pointed to the other stretcher, frustration in her voice. “Theo is here. Do you know, he…” Facing my pleading eyes, the head nurse kept her promise and didn’t reveal that I had given my heart to Declan. She paused, annoyed. “Theo collapsed in the operating room for Declan’s sake, and you’re his wife. Don’t you feel any sympathy?” Only then did Nora notice my pale, barely surviving self. The anger in her eyes faded, leaving a trace of guilt. Nora bit her lip, hesitated for a moment, and then softly said. “Theo, thank you for saving Declan.” I forced a smile and gestured for her to come closer. Nora was puzzled but walked to my bedside. I looked at her, pleading. “Nora, no matter what, please don’t terminate the pregnancy, okay?” This was the second thing I wanted to do for her. To preserve her chance to become a mother. Nora’s expression was slightly stunned, a complicated look flashing in her eyes. “Declan and I are not what you think. I won’t divorce you because of him, nor will I terminate this pregnancy. Don’t worry.” I didn’t speak; in our previous life, she didn’t divorce me either, but in the end, we became estranged, and she harbored resentment for a lifetime. This time, I didn’t want to repeat that mistake. I was about to suggest a divorce when there was a noise from the bed next to me. Declan’s fingers twitched, as if he was about to wake up. Nora stood up abruptly, not looking back as she rushed to his side. Watching her decisive back, a bitterness welled up in my heart. No matter how many times I was reborn, Declan was always the most important person to her.

I lay on the hospital bed for several days; Nora came to see me a few times when she had time. She said impatiently. “How come you’re weaker than Declan? Anyone would think you were the one who had surgery.” After saying this, she showed a hint of regret on her face, apologizing with a touch of guilt. “Anyway, you’re like this now because of Declan. He just told me that when he’s better, he wants to throw a big party to thank you.” “I know you’ve always had issues with him because of our past, but we’re married now.” When she mentioned marriage, there was a barely noticeable crease in her brow; she paused before continuing. “Things between him and me are over. Don’t overthink it; let’s live our lives.” With that, she reached out and gently held my hand. Feeling the warmth from the back of my hand, my heart ached. If it were in our previous life, hearing these words would have made me forget everything in joy. But after experiencing all that, I knew she still had Declan in her heart. Her promises now were only out of loyalty to the marriage. I withdrew my hand, looked at Nora quietly, and said softly. “I know you still have Declan in your heart, and I’m willing to let you go. Don’t worry, I’ll explain everything to my parents.” But I didn’t expect that as soon as I said this, Nora’s face turned ugly. She stared at me, her voice slightly panicked. “Theo, what nonsense are you talking! I said, my past with Declan is over!” “What do you mean by this? Are you accusing me of betraying you? Theo, can you stop having such vile thoughts!” I quickly got up, trying to grab her sleeve to explain. But as I did, a sharp pain shot through my chest, and I fell back onto the bed. Seeing my pale face, Nora spoke coldly. “What are you acting? You’re not the one who had surgery; haven’t you rested enough in bed?” “Declan was right; you’re pretending to be sick to make us feel guilty, aren’t you?” “Theo, you’re a doctor. Saving lives is your duty; don’t use it to blackmail us!” Her words, “us,” once again reminded me that I was the villain who broke them apart. I wanted to laugh bitterly but could only manage a slight twitch of my mouth as the pain in my heart almost made me faint. Seeing the cold sweat on my forehead, Nora sensed something was wrong, her voice trembling slightly. “Theo, stop acting; I won’t believe you!” “What’s wrong with you? Someone! Help! Is the nurse here?” The head nurse rushed in with others, quickly starting to check on me. Nora was pushed outside, forced to watch through the glass. Seeing her worried expression, my mood didn’t improve at all. Maybe she was more worried that if something happened to me, Declan would owe me even more. Thanks to the medical staff’s efforts, my condition finally improved. The head nurse sighed deeply, helplessly. “I told you, switching to an artificial heart would have aftereffects, but you wouldn’t listen!” “Look at your body now! If it hadn’t been for the timely rescue, you’d be dead!” Nora entered just in time to hear the last part, unable to help but speak up. “Dead? Wasn’t he just exhausted from a long surgery? How come he hasn’t recovered yet?” Her eyes darted between me and the head nurse, as if questioning if we were hiding something from her. The head nurse snapped. “Ask him yourself!” I forced a weak smile and said softly. “I was overworked from the surgeries; I just need to rest for a while.” Seeing me still hiding the truth, the head nurse had nothing more to say. Nora didn’t speak, standing still for a moment before stepping forward to change the water in the vase. Seeing her place a bunch of calla lilies with dew, I was slightly surprised. “How did you know my favorite flower is the calla lily?” Nora bit her lips, not looking at me, and said softly, “You mentioned it before.” I remembered when we first moved into the new house, my in-laws suggested putting some fresh flowers and plants to bring life to the new home. I casually mentioned it then. “I’ve been undergoing several intense surgeries lately, so I’m really exhausted. I just need some time to recover.” Seeing that I was still hiding the truth, the head nurse had nothing more to say. Nora didn’t say anything but stood still for a moment before stepping forward to change the water in the vase. I was slightly surprised when I saw her place a bunch of calla lilies with dewdrops in the vase. “How did you know that calla lilies are my favorite flower?” Nora pressed her lips together and didn’t look at me, replying softly, “You mentioned it before.” Only then did I remember. When we first moved into the new house, my in-laws said we should place some fresh flowers and plants to liven up the place. I had casually mentioned it back then. I didn’t expect that Nora would remember from that one time. Looking at the white flowers, I felt a complex mix of emotions. Finally, I asked the question that had been buried in my heart for what felt like two lifetimes. “If Declan had returned before we got married, would you still have married me?” Hearing this, Nora’s hand trembled. She didn’t answer directly but frowned in confusion. “Why are you asking this? We’re already married. There’s no point in asking now.” I pressed on, staring intently into her eyes. “I want an honest answer from you. Can you answer me sincerely?” A trace of conflict flashed across Nora’s face, and she turned away. After a while, I heard her softly say, “No.” The sword hanging over my head finally dropped, shattering the last bit of hope I had hidden. Seeing the bitterness on my face, Nora’s tone unexpectedly held a hint of panic. She bit her lip. “You said it yourself—it was an ‘if.’ The fact is, we’re already married. Those hypotheticals don’t exist, and I won’t leave you to reunite with Declan!” She hurriedly stood up and tucked the blanket around me. “Focus on getting better. Once you’re well…” She paused, a hint of determination flashing in her expression. “We’ll move to the neighboring city. I won’t have any contact with Declan after that.” Saying this, her shoulders slumped, and she turned and left the room without looking back. I watched her departing figure and pressed the call button on the bedside. The head nurse looked at me, puzzled, as I softly spoke. “Could you print me a divorce agreement?” If there’s no love, I’m willing to let go completely. This is the last thing I’m doing for Nora.

After a few days of rest, I was finally able to get up. The first thing I did was go looking for Nora. As expected, she was in Declan’s hospital room. During this time, to take care of Declan, she had applied to stay by his bedside, watching over him 24/7. In the room, Declan said something that made her laugh. I watched quietly through the glass window. In front of me, Nora rarely smiled. When we were together, it was either silence or arguments; she seldom had such moments of joy. Perhaps separating was the right choice for us. I knocked on the door, startling the two inside. When Nora saw it was me, she panicked and stood up, seemingly wanting to explain something. But just as she opened her mouth, Declan’s coughing fit drowned her out. For a moment, Nora was too busy to care about me, concerned with pouring Declan a cup of hot water and gently encouraging him to drink. Facing Declan’s provocative gaze, I felt calm, waiting silently on the side. Once Nora finished helping him drink the water, I handed over the document in my hand. “This is the treatment plan for Declan; it needs a signature.” Declan had congenital heart disease, and his parents, seeing him as a burden, had long cut ties with him. Recently, Nora had been the one signing his surgery papers. Nora took the document, glanced through a few pages, and quickly signed it. Watching her sign the last page, the weight in my heart finally lifted. “Nora, could you step out for a moment? I need to talk to Declan.” Nora hesitated but eventually left and closed the door. Once the door was closed, the gentleness on Declan’s face vanished. He scoffed. “What? Are you here to persuade me to leave Nora?” I shook my head, responding calmly. “No, I’m the one leaving. Nora and I are already divorced. I hope you can take good care of her from now on.” Declan was taken aback, looking at me incredulously. “You’d actually be willing to divorce Nora? I thought you loved her too much to ever let go.” A wave of bitterness washed over me. What good is love? I’ve realized that forcing things won’t lead to a good outcome. Thinking of something else important, I urged Declan. “Nora is pregnant now. Her uterine wall is thin, and a miscarriage could cause severe bleeding. For her health’s sake, I hope you keep the child if you two end up together.” Declan was momentarily stunned, then let out a mocking laugh. “Are you crazy? Do you expect me to raise another man’s child?” I frowned, adding, “I’ll cover child support. If you two don’t want to raise the child, I can take care of it myself without you paying a cent.” “All this is for Nora’s health.” In my past life, Nora lost her ability to have children due to a miscarriage. I won’t let that happen again. Declan coldly replied, “What does her body have to do with me? If you want her to give birth, you can take the child yourself.” “But you’ll have to pay me some money, as a sort of compensation for my troubles! If you want me to take over, you need to show some sincerity!” Hearing this, I was dumbfounded. Declan had always seemed so devoted to Nora in front of her, which was why I was willing to let them be together. But I never expected Declan to be this kind of person! I couldn’t help but ask, “You’re only with her for the money?” Declan glanced at me, sneering. “What else? Where else am I going to find a sucker willing to pay for my treatment?” Furious, I stepped forward and grabbed Declan by the collar, just as the door lock suddenly clicked. “Bang!” Declan flipped off the bed, landing awkwardly on the floor. “What are you doing, Cloud?” Nora rushed in and pushed me aside. Declan covered his face, sobbing, “It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have met with you again.” She stood protectively in front of Declan, glaring at me with hostility. “Nora, I didn’t touch him…”

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The day my family went bankrupt, my fiancée married the man she loved. I, Wyatt Anderson, didn’t say a thing. I simply married Ava Anderson, the woman who confessed her love to me and helped me through the tough times. After we married, I took care of her for seven years while she was paralyzed from the waist down. Then, on the day she stood up, I overheard her and her best friend, Olivia Carter, speaking in Lapine. “Ava, are you really going to spend your whole life with him? What if Dylan Montgomery gets hurt again?” Ava, peeling shrimp for our daughter, answered slowly, “Of course not! Dylan is special, and Wyatt’s not. How could I bear to make Dylan sad?” “I’m just like Mommy. I like handsome Uncle Dylan, but I hate ugly Daddy,” our daughter added in Lapine. What they didn’t know was that I understood Lapine. The fake love she had served me, I’d never take another look. Ava gently touched our daughter Sydney’s forehead, clearly pleased, and instinctively praised her in Lapine. “Sydney’s so well-behaved. Uncle Dylan and I are glad to hear that. “When you’re older, Uncle Dylan and I will have a pretty little sister for you. Then, you will have a companion at school.” Sydney clapped her hands excitedly, answering in clumsy Lapine. “Yay, that’s awesome! “I like Uncle Dylan and Mommy the most, and I like the pretty little sister Mommy’s going to have. If only we didn’t have this scary, mean Daddy. I don’t like him at all. He annoys me.” I froze, shocked. I couldn’t believe what I had just heard. Ava must have noticed my stare because she smiled and helped me with some lettuce, speaking gently, “Baby, what’s wrong?” I shook my head, my heart aching so much it felt like it was being torn apart. A suffocating feeling spread through my body. Ava must have forgotten that I was the first one to learn Lapine in this family. She must also have forgotten that I never eat lettuce. My expression darkened. Noticing my silence, Ava became nervous and unsure. She gently took my hand. “Baby, why do you look so upset all of a sudden?” I pulled my hand away and smiled awkwardly, trying to keep the facade up. “It’s nothing. I just can’t believe you forgot that I don’t like lettuce,” I said, pretending to act cute. “By the way, what were you saying just now? Speaking in Lapine?” Ava froze for a moment, clearly guilty, not daring to look at me. “Oh, it was nothing. It’s just that Olivia is jealous of how good our relationship is.” She quickly came up with an excuse and tried to shift the attention away. “I’m sorry, baby. I’ll remember from now on, and I won’t let you eat lettuce again. “You’re the best, and you should only have sweet things, never anything bitter.” She continued to comfort me in a soft voice while picking out the lettuce from my plate. Our daughter rolled her eyes at me and huffed, “Humph, so dramatic. It’s just lettuce. It’s not going to kill you. “You’re a man, and you’re still picky? How embarrassing.” Ava, who had been gentle just moments ago, immediately turned serious and scolded our daughter. “Sydney, don’t speak to your father like that! Apologize right now!” Our daughter reluctantly stuck out her tongue and mumbled, “Sorry!” Even Olivia, unable to stand it any longer, made a comment. “Alright, we get it. You two have a great relationship. No need to keep showing off. Why are you scolding the kid?” Ava shot her a proud look. “Ha, you’re just jealous that I have such a handsome, understanding husband. I’m going to show off as much as I want. After all, I’m the one who admires him. I’ll show off a thousand times a day if I want.” I set my fork down and looked at Ava quietly. She tried to look all loving, and when she noticed me looking at her, she quickly served me a bowl of soup, blowing on it before offering it to me. “Baby, do you want some soup? “Baby, you’ve worked so hard these seven years taking care of me and the kid. “Baby, I can finally stand up. You don’t need to worry anymore. I’ll love you with everything I’ve got from now on.” If I had heard these words in the past, they would have brought tears to my eyes. But now, all I felt was a deep, bitter sting and irony. She had fooled me so well that I almost convinced myself that the conversation in Lapine had been nothing but my imagination.

Without waiting for me to speak, Olivia glanced at her phone a few times before urging me again in Lapine. “Ava, stop dragging your feet. Hurry up! Dylan is calling for you in the group chat. It’s such an important day. Don’t make him wait anxiously.” Ava froze for a moment. She set down her soup bowl, pressed a kiss to my lips, and then reluctantly spoke up, “Honey, can you have the maid clean up the dishes and go to bed early? Please? Our friends are asking me to go out and hang out. Please, let me go, honey.” I couldn’t help but laugh when I saw her like this. “Sure, go ahead. “But you’d better not do anything to make me angry. “If I find out you did, I won’t hesitate to leave you.” She froze, panic and unease flashing in her eyes. But in the end, with her phone ringing nonstop, she picked it up, stood up, and started putting on her coat. As she walked out, she tried to reassure me with a serious tone. “Honey, don’t worry. I belong to you in life and death. “My husband is only you. “Sydney, listen to Daddy at home. Don’t make him angry. If you do, I’ll come back and punish you!” When the door finally shut behind her, cutting off all sound, I snapped back to reality. I let out a long sigh, my eyes starting to sting. Sydney shot me a look of disdain and cursed me in Lapine, thinking I wouldn’t understand. “Ugly freak, even crying. No wonder Mom doesn’t like you. “Useless.” I chuckled bitterly and wiped away a tear from my eye. I knew I should let go, but I just couldn’t. After seven years of love, any cold heart should have warmed up by now. I was just reluctant to accept it. Sydney was six this year. Since birth, she had never been apart from me. I’d given almost all my love to Ava and her. For seven years, I had been a husband and a father, but never really myself. Yet, like her mother, she had forgotten that it was me who taught her Lapine. For three straight days, Ava didn’t come home. But every day, she’d send me messages, gently letting me know her leg was recovering and that she’d been out having fun. I quietly read the messages, silently packing my things and planning to leave. On the seventh day of Ava’s absence, I dug up the agreement from my email’s trash folder, opened the link, and carefully signed my name. I had already walked 99 steps toward Ava and Sydney. This last step, I wanted to take for myself. I had just bought a flight ticket for three days later, ready to shut off my phone, when I saw Sydney, who hadn’t spoken to me in a week, glaring at me with a serious face. I didn’t rush to hug her like I usually did. I just stood up and calmly walked away. She got mad, stomping past me, muttering a curse in Lapine that I had taught her. “Ugly freak, always messing with my mom. “Who are you trying to scare with that plane ticket? If you’re so tough, just get out of my house for real.”

I thought I would be hurt again by her sarcasm, but at that moment, I felt strangely calm. Watching her run up the stairs, I spoke in Lapine. “Okay, I’ll leave.” As soon as the words left my mouth, she suddenly turned around. Her face froze as if she had seen a ghost. In a panic, she quickly opened her smartwatch and typed a message to her mom in Lapine. [Mom, Mom, something’s wrong. He understands Lapine.] Within seconds, a voice message came. It was Dylan’s voice, clearly filled with disdain. “Sydney, what nonsense are you talking about? Your dad’s family went bankrupt years ago. How could he possibly learn Lapine? “Behave yourself, and stop bothering me while I’m out with your mom. “I’ll bring you some snacks next time.” Sydney, her face tense, stared at me for a long moment. When she saw I wasn’t reacting, she shrugged off what I had just said and cheerfully replied to Dylan. “Okay, Uncle Dylan, enjoy your time with Mom! “I hope you and Mom have a baby sister for me soon.” Lately, I kept thinking about my past with Ava. After thinking about it, I forced myself to forget. The sounds of video games continued to come from Sydney’s room. I didn’t take the game console away like I usually did, nor did I urge her to go to sleep. I didn’t remind her about homework, either, since the teacher would check it tomorrow. Since she hated me so much, it was fine if I didn’t act like a father anymore. But for days, I couldn’t figure out why Ava’s acting was so convincing. At 2 a.m., I received another provocation from Dylan. [Wyatt, Ava has been messing with me nonstop these days. She’s really greedy. Are you not up to it? She even said you can’t turn her on at all.] Along with the message, there was a photo. Ava stood in front of him, and his hand was suggestively reaching into her collar, his eyes filled with desire that couldn’t be hidden. I tortured myself by looking at the photo over and over, my heart feeling as though it was being squeezed in someone’s hand, ready to burst. The pain was unbearable. Staring out at the pitiful moonlight, I remembered when the Anderson family went bankrupt, when my fiancée left me, and I had nothing. Ava had appeared like a goddess, helping me pay off debts and start over. Back then, I truly believed that Ava, who was paralyzed from the waist down, was my salvation in this life. For these seven years, she had shown me so much love. The world called her a woman who spoiled her husband to the extreme, someone who loved me to the core. I believed it too. That was why I set aside my pride and devoted myself to taking care of her, making meals for her, and doing everything for seven years. But the truth was, while she said she loved me, she had been entangled with her brother Dylan, who had no blood relation to her. It wasn’t until recently that I learned the painful truth. For all these years, she had secretly given all her true feelings to Dylan, hiding it from me.

I spent the entire day burning every trace of my existence. Whether it was clothes or photos, nothing was left behind. My flight was for tomorrow. After tomorrow, they would no longer be a part of my life. Ava still hadn’t come back, but from Dylan’s taunts, I could tell she was busy, really busy, trying new positions with him. As for Sydney, she completely ignored me. I did my duty as a father one last time, cooking a table full of her favorite dishes. But when she came home, she merely snorted, ordered takeout, and wouldn’t speak a single word to me. I sat by the cold food, watching as the night grew darker. In a daze, I heard faint sounds at the door. By the light of the moon, I saw Ava finally come back, along with her beloved Dylan. Ava’s cheeks were flushed, and she was sitting on Dylan’s lap, eagerly seeking a kiss. Her hand was sliding down to stir things up. Dylan held her head with one hand, deepening the kiss, while his other hand firmly supported her hips. They were all over each other the moment they came in, kissing urgently, undressing, and tangled up in breath. Ava quietly reminded him. “Dylan, don’t wake up my husband.” Dylan, with jealousy, pulled her close and bit her earlobe, his voice full of sorrow and complaint. “Ava, didn’t you say I’m the only one you love? “Didn’t you say it would be more exciting and satisfying to do it in front of Wyatt? “Didn’t you say Wyatt’s just a tool to protect our love? “Why do I have to care about him?” Dylan was so hurt. Ava’s heart ached. She kissed him softly, her hands lovingly caressing him, and whispered sweet words to soothe him. “Dylan, I said this just to make it more exciting.” Their passionate breaths grew louder, and my heart, already bleeding, was torn open again. I curled up on the couch, the nauseating scent filling the air as my heart turned to ash. I didn’t know how much time had passed, but when they moved from the kitchen to the living room, they noticed my presence. Ava’s breath quickened. She pressed her hand over Dylan’s mouth, hiding the lust in their eyes, and they embraced as they climbed upstairs. In the quiet of the deep night, all I could hear was her subdued warning. “Dylan, stop. If Wyatt finds out, with his temper, it’ll be all over. “He’s still Sydney’s dad. We can’t make things too awkward.” I didn’t know how much time had passed, but eventually, Ava came downstairs carefully and tucked me in. She still smelled like their heated moments together, and her open collar was covered with countless hickeys. I stiffened and pushed her hand away. She noticed something was off. “Baby, what’s wrong? Have you been upset because I haven’t been home the past few days?” I shook my head bitterly. “No. “Ava, I dreamed you were cheating on me.” She froze, panic flashing across her face. “Baby, what are you talking about? I swear to you, you’re the only one I’ll ever love!” At that moment, I felt disgusted beyond words. I turned my head stubbornly and curled up in bed, exhausted. “I’m a bit tired. I’m going to sleep.” I turned away, not wanting to look at her anymore. When I woke up, I’d be gone for good.

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By the fifth year of being with Ethan Taylor, he said he was tired of me. Then one day, he brought home a young, beautiful college girl. That’s when I finally gave up completely. I left behind a bank card, booked a midnight flight, and left Kingston without looking back. Our mutual friends all bet I’d be crawling back in no time. Ethan seemed equally confident, casually telling his friends: “She’ll be back within a week, like a dog clinging to my pant leg, begging me to take her back.” But a week passed. Then another. Half a month went by. And I stayed silent. For the first time, Ethan grew restless. He showed up unannounced, his face dark with irritation. “Are you done with this tantrum yet? I don’t have time to play games with you—” Before he could finish, the man sitting beside me chuckled lightly. “Mr. Taylor,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm, “a woman isn’t someone you coax like a child. You cherish her. If you truly love her, you wouldn’t even dare to let her get upset.” Ethan’s face flushed red with anger. “She’s my girlfriend. That’s none of your business!” The man leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “And she’s my fiancée. Jealous, are you?”

In our fifth year together, it was Ethan’s 30th birthday—his big milestone. I had secretly bought plane tickets to take him to my hometown to meet my father and discuss our marriage. But unfortunately, I arrived a few minutes late to his birthday party. And what greeted me was the sound of his laughter, mocking me with his friends: “Marry Sophia? Are you kidding? I’m already sick of her.” Ethan downed his drink, laughing like it was the funniest joke in the world. “I’ve been keeping her around for five years—she’s long past her expiration date. There are so many younger, prettier girls out there waiting for my attention.” His friends chimed in, laughing along: “Exactly! With your looks and money, Ethan, Sophia should be grateful you’ve kept her this long. Without you, who knows where she’d be—probably stuck in some backwoods nowhere.” Another added, “But to be fair, Sophia’s got her charms. She’s got that unique beauty, you know?” “Yeah, her face is stunning, and her body’s perfect. Remember that black dress she wore to your gala? Had all of us drooling, man.” One of them laughed and said, “But seriously, Ethan, you used to treat her like a queen. Are you really treating her like a dog now?” Ethan’s response was cold, emotionless. “Call her, and she’ll come. Tell her to leave, and she’s gone. What do you think?” The room erupted in laughter. I stood outside the private room, frozen. I didn’t dare go in. Instead, I made up an excuse, called Ethan, and told him I wasn’t feeling well and was heading home. He didn’t even bother replying before hanging up. That night, I made my decision.

For the next few days, Ethan didn’t come home. But unlike before, I didn’t call or text to ask where he was or who he was with. I just quietly went about my life. In a small city like Kingston, though, news traveled fast. I didn’t have to ask to hear what he was up to. Ethan was chasing after a 19-year-old dance major from the arts academy. She was young, vibrant, and beautiful, and he was smitten. He pursued her loudly and extravagantly, showering her with gifts: a house, jewelry, a car—anything she wanted. The girl, of course, was dazzled by the attention. Within a week, they’d already checked into a hotel together. But what I didn’t expect was for Ethan to bring her home. The girl strutted in like she owned the place, wasting no time ordering me around: “Make me a honey-lemon tea. Oh, and don’t forget the ice.” I didn’t respond, just sat at the dining table quietly eating my dinner. Ethan wrapped an arm around her, sitting across from me. His gaze was cold as he said, “Sophia, are you deaf? Do you really think you’re the lady of this house? I’ve never acknowledged you as such.” I gripped my chopsticks tightly, trying to steady my trembling hands. He wasn’t wrong. In the five years we’d been together, I had given everything without ever asking for a title, for acknowledgment. Back when I was in high school, my father had fallen from a construction site and broken his leg. The contractor, heartless and cruel, offered only $300 in compensation to make us go away. Faced with impossible medical bills and my father lying helpless in a hospital bed, I had nowhere else to turn. That’s when I met Ethan Taylor, the developer overseeing the construction project. He not only took on all my father’s medical expenses but also brought me out of my small mountain town and into the bustling capital for school. Over the years, my admiration for him grew into a love even I didn’t notice at first. But Ethan never saw me the same way. For him, I was just a fleeting responsibility—something he soon grew tired of. I bit my lip and nodded, forcing a smile. “You’re right, Mr. Taylor. I’ve overstepped. I’ve been fortunate to have your care all these years.” Ethan raised an eyebrow, surprised by my sudden compliance. After a pause, he said, “Well, I wouldn’t call it care. But you’ve been with me long enough. I suppose it’s time we…” “Part ways,” I interrupted, my voice steady. “Now that you’ve found someone you truly care about, it’s best we go our separate ways. You wouldn’t want such a young, sweet girl to suffer because of me.” “She deserves a proper place in your life.” I smiled politely and excused myself to pack my things. But the moment I turned around, tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. Five years. In all that time, Ethan had never once acknowledged me in front of his friends, never once promised me a future. That night, I booked a flight out of Kingston. I left behind nothing but a bank card. The bank card was originally given to me by Ethan Taylor, so I returned it to him untouched. Not only that, but I also transferred back every penny he had ever paid for my father’s medical bills and my tuition fees, line by line, according to the receipts. Before leaving, I took off the jade bracelet from my wrist and left it on the vanity. The bracelet was a gift from Ethan for my 18th birthday—a coming-of-age present. I had once promised him I’d never take it off unless the day came when we would never see each other again. My flight was booked for 3 a.m., heading to Southport, my hometown.

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Girlfriend smashed my engagement ring and shot me a contemptuous look, “You think a cheap ring could make me commit?” At the same time, Declan, the wealthy heir, was slipping a massive diamond onto her finger. He openly laughed, “There’s no mystery in attracting beautiful women—money is the ultimate allure.” I could sense Declan’s intentions weren’t good, so I tried to warn Adeline to be cautious. But Adeline pushed me away dismissively, “He’s just having fun with me, but one night is worth a fortune. What is your sincerity worth?” Ten years later, Declan brought Adeline to a school reunion to humiliate me once more. Little did they know, I had already become a part of the Southern City’s elite. A decade after graduation, I had achieved great success, ranking high on the Southern City Rich List. Yet, I kept a low profile and rarely revealed my true identity. That day, I was negotiating a business deal at a clubhouse. After closing a deal worth several billion, my secretary handed me my schedule. “The next person waiting to see you is The Young Master of the Shaw Family, worth billions in assets.” “He’s been waiting for you in private room number 9.” I nodded, owing him a favor, and personally went downstairs to meet him. When I opened the door to the private room, I realized I had entered the wrong one. Inside was a table full of old classmates. Declan was at the head of the table, surrounded by the same sycophants from our university days. I had nothing to say to them and turned to leave. However, Declan called out to me. “Isn’t that Finn?” “Seeing old classmates, why not greet us?” He was as arrogant as ever, just like back then. It suddenly hit me—ten years ago, he had used a huge diamond ring to steal away my beautiful classmate girlfriend, Adeline. I had nearly forgotten about it, but seeing him now brought it all back. It was time to settle the score. I paused and looked around the room. “A class reunion, huh? Why didn’t anyone tell me beforehand?” A female classmate laughed. “Finn, don’t blame us for not telling you. We were just being considerate.” “You’re not exactly rich, and we thought you’d feel out of place in such high-end settings.” I fiddled with my car keys, “You worry too much. I’m here all the time.” Everyone was shocked, a bit incredulous. Declan smirked, “You work here, don’t you?” “Are you a waiter or the kind of young master who serves others?” His questions were followed by a burst of laughter from the crowd. The female classmate spoke teasingly, “Finn, you’re quite good-looking.” “Too bad you’re poor, no wonder Adeline left you back then.” “Guess it’s been ages since you’ve been with a woman. I pity you; maybe I should take you on.” “Better than working here as a young master, being walked over by everyone.” Her words were met with more teasing laughter. I looked at her coldly, sizing up her plump figure. “You’re Adeline’s best friend, right? What’s your name again?” She introduced herself confidently, “Phoebe, remember my name. I might be your patron someday.” I picked up a bottle of wine and walked over to her. “If I remember correctly, you were the one who coaxed Adeline into breaking up with me, right?” Phoebe admitted without shame. “Yeah, I was the one who sent Adeline to Declan’s bed.” “I did it for her own good, found her a sugar daddy.” “With her looks, you couldn’t afford her. Forget about her, pour me some wine.” I smiled submissively, “Sure.” Then I raised the bottle and smashed it over her head! The bottle shattered, and dark red wine mixed with blood covered her face. Phoebe let out a scream! Wiping her face with her hand, she screamed at me: “Finn! You’ve got some nerve!” “I was gracious enough to let you serve me, why so arrogant?” I chuckled lightly, my eyes filled with a cold intent, “Do you even qualify?” Phoebe, unwilling to back down, threatened, “Apologize to me now, and it’s not too late!” I picked up a wet napkin, wiping my hands, “What if I don’t?” “Then you might not make it out of this room today!” Phoebe smiled maliciously, looking at Declan. Declan understood and snapped his fingers. Instantly, everyone surrounded me.

“What are you planning to do?” Holding a piece of the broken bottle, I calmly watched them. Declan stood up, acting like he was judging me. “Finn, you hurt someone. Shouldn’t you apologize?” Others chimed in, “Apologizing is the least you can do.” “Finn, do you, a broke loser, even know how to respect women?” “You should kneel and apologize to Lydia, lick her shoes clean!” “Also, compensate for medical expenses! Or else we’ll call the cops!” My face darkened, “Lick shoes? Compensate?” Lydia looked at me triumphantly, extending her shoe towards me. “Smart choice! I know you can’t afford to pay my medical bills.” “How about this, kneel down and lick my shoes clean.” “Then spend a night with me, and we’ll call it even!” My voice turned cold, “Are you sure?” Lydia wiggled her foot, her eyes vulgar, “Considering you’re handsome, I’m doing you a favor!” Without hesitation, I drove the piece of the bottle into Lydia’s foot! The sharp glass pierced through her shoe, stabbing her foot, blood flowing. Lydia let out a shriek! “Finn, refusing a toast only to drink a forfeit, I’ll kill you!” She grabbed a bowl from the table and hurled it at me. I dodged deftly, and the bowl struck Declan behind me! Blood immediately trickled down his forehead. “Lydia, are you blind?” Declan yelled, furious. Lydia quickly apologized, “Sorry, Brother Declan.” “I meant to hit Finn, not you.” Declan shouted, “If you can’t fight, don’t embarrass yourself!” “So many men here, do you need to step in?” Lydia nodded obsequiously, “Yes, yes, yes.” Then she looked at me viciously, “Finn hitting me is like hitting everyone’s face!” “Everyone, get him! Beat this broke loser to death!” Declan waved his hand at the crowd, “Go!” In an instant, all the male classmates grabbed empty bottles and surged forward. I pressed the call button for the front desk, issuing a command, “Someone’s causing trouble in private room 6, send the bodyguards over!” Everyone hesitated, stopping and looking at me uncertainly. Declan sneered, “We’re esteemed guests, very familiar with the clubhouse owner!” “Calling bodyguards is useless. The owner will protect the clients and fire you instead!” Then he snapped his fingers again, urging everyone. “What are you afraid of? He’s just a powerless young master at the clubhouse!” “Even if he’s beaten to death, no one will care!” Encouraged by him, everyone became arrogant again. Their eyes filled with malice, they approached me. Just then, there was a commotion outside the private room. I thought the bodyguards had arrived, but to my surprise, it was Adeline who walked in! She was so beautiful that everyone’s eyes were drawn to her, momentarily forgetting what they were doing. Jealousy flashed in Lydia’s eyes, and she began to remind everyone, “Get him! Why are you staring at Adeline?” “Adeline belongs to Declan alone. Even if you stare, it’s pointless!” Declan looked at Adeline with pride, waving her and her son over to sit next to him. Then he glanced at me with a smug look. He told everyone, “Your sister-in-law doesn’t like bloody scenes.” “For her sake, we’ll postpone this grudge.” Everyone immediately put down their bottles, showering him with praise. “Sister-in-law has great influence; marrying Declan is her greatest fortune.” “Finn’s lucky; thanks to her, he’s off the hook for now!”

I smirked sarcastically, realizing they were married, with a child even. Declan looked at me with contempt. “Finn, remember ten years ago when you proposed with a ring worth a few thousand bucks?” “Haha, it was hilarious. A few thousand and you thought you could win over the class beauty.” “Do you know how much that diamond I gave her cost?” “One million! Compared to your few thousand, any woman knows what to choose.” Lydia chimed in, “If I were her, I’d choose Brother Declan too.” Declan glanced at Lydia, “Not you, you’re too ugly, haha.” “But if I lost my mind and liked you, I’d still buy you a ring worth tens of thousands.” “Unlike Finn, who tried to fool people with a ring worth a few thousand.” Hearing this, a flash of displeasure and jealousy crossed Lydia’s face. But she didn’t show it and continued flattering Declan. “I know, I’m aware I’m not as pretty as our great class beauty Adeline.” Lydia chimed in, “If I had the choice, I’d pick Brother Declan as well.” Declan glanced at Lydia with a smirk, “You wouldn’t stand a chance; you’re just not my type.” “But if I ever lost my mind and fancied you, I’d still give you a ring worth tens of thousands.” “Unlike Finn, who tries to impress with cheap trinkets.” Lydia’s eyes flickered with displeasure and jealousy, but she continued to flatter Declan as always. “True, I know my limits. I can’t compare to our lovely class beauty, Adeline.” “She’s so popular, even when she just started college, several wealthy older men wanted to take care of her.” “But wasn’t it me who saw her potential, got her drunk, and sent her to Brother Declan’s bed?” “Otherwise, her husband wouldn’t be the young and handsome Brother Declan now.” “As her best friend, I made the right choice for her.” Listening to this, I was shocked and instinctively looked at Adeline. She was downing drink after drink, visibly upset. Lydia snatched her glass away, annoyed, “Adeline, shouldn’t you be thanking me now?” “If it weren’t for me, your fate would have been being used by rich men hundreds of times.” “Then, when you’re all worn out, marrying someone like Finn, a broke loser.” Adeline clenched her fists, biting her lip until it bled, yet she said nothing. I couldn’t bear it any longer and waved the diamond ring in my hand. “Do you really think I’m just a backup plan?” “I’m not interested in women who’ve been passed around! I don’t care for socialites.” “See this ring? I bought it when I got engaged to my fiancée. It’s part of a pair, worth 20 million!” As soon as I finished, the room burst into laughter. They looked at me like I was crazy. Only Adeline seemed genuinely upset, her face pale. Declan laughed so hard he doubled over, “As if you could afford a 20 million dollar ring?” “This thing’s barely worth 2000! And you tell your girlfriend it’s 20 million?” “Finn, what can I say about you? Ten years on, and you’re still so pathetic!” “Buying cheap stuff to fool girls!” Lydia mocked, moving closer to look at my hand. Suddenly, her expression changed! “Isn’t this the ‘Sky Star’ that’s been in the news?” “Mr. Finn bought this couple’s ring for 20 million at the auction.” “And then gave the women’s ring to the daughter of the Lee family!”

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I’ve always had a habit of competing with my sister Emily for everything since childhood. When we were little, I’d fight her for candy and dresses. As we grew up, I started competing for the company and even her boyfriend. But I rarely won against her, whether it was the company or her boyfriend. I was about to give up when Emily was suddenly diagnosed with a terminal illness – late-stage cancer. She called me to her hospital bed and said her only dying wish was for me to marry her husband? On the day of Emily’s funeral, my brother-in-law Jack looked terribly haggard. His waist seemed to have shrunk under his clothes. When the wind blew, his clothes looked empty inside. He appeared more fragile than his usual cool demeanor. I hobbled over to him on my crutches. Jack caressed Emily’s face for a long time, reluctant to let go. I had to remind him, “Jack, please try to accept it.” Jack stopped, staring at me blankly. The despair in his eyes was as profound as a wild animal on the brink of death: “Mia, Emily is gone…” I averted my gaze, unable to bear it, and looked at my sister in the coffin. In the dark coffin, Emily’s eyes were closed, her face still maintaining the hysteria from before her death. In the last stage of her life, she had become terribly thin, reminding me of a withered twig. Looking at her in the hospital, I could hardly recall her once vibrant appearance. Tears slid from the corners of my eyes. I wiped them away, then bent down and pulled the necklace from Emily’s chest. This was Emily’s most treasured possession in life – a sapphire necklace. Even in the dim coffin, it still sparkled brilliantly. “Mia…” Jack tried to stop me when he realized what I was doing. I dodged to the side, “I want to keep something to remember her by.” I clutched the necklace and looked at him longingly, “Can I? Jack, I want to keep it.” Emily and I looked very similar, especially our eyes. Our eyebrows were just like our father’s. I bet Jack would soften up. Even though this necklace was a gift from him to Emily, a symbol of their love. After just a brief moment of eye contact, Jack was already lost in my eyes. “Can I?” I asked again, my voice hoarse as I gripped the chain. Jack snapped back to reality, a flash of bitterness crossing his eyes. “Yes, Mia. You can keep it.” The soil gradually covered the coffin lid. Jack still stood rigidly, staring at the coffin being buried as if he had lost his soul. After saying goodbye to the mourners, I limped to his side. “Jack,” I called out to him. He didn’t respond. I continued, “When are we getting our marriage license?” 2 Hearing my words, Rachel, who was standing nearby, turned back in shock: “Mia, what nonsense are you talking about?” Rachel was Emily’s best friend, though I wasn’t very close to her. “It’s not nonsense,” I lowered my eyes, smiling both forcedly and sadly, “Rachel, you weren’t there at the time.” “Emily’s dying wish was for Jack to take care of me. She hoped we could be together.” “The sooner Jack and I get married, the more peaceful Emily will rest.” Rachel’s face changed: “How is that possible? This… How could Emily do such a thing?” I put my hand on Jack’s shoulder, patting it comfortingly: “Jack, don’t forget Emily’s last wish was for you to marry me.” “Mia…” Jack opened his mouth, glanced at the covered coffin, his eyes dimming, “Can we talk about this in a few days?” “Okay,” I smiled slightly. I’ve always been patient. “By the way, Rachel…” I turned to look at Rachel, catching the hatred and resentment in her eyes before she could hide it. “What is it?” She looked at me, trying to appear calm. I smiled gently: “Will you be my bridesmaid when the time comes?” “You were Emily’s best friend. If it weren’t for this sudden accident, I’m sure she would have wanted you to be the bridesmaid too.” 3 When I was hospitalized for a broken leg after a car accident, Emily came to visit me. I didn’t know she was already very ill at that time. I only remember her face was frighteningly pale. That deathly pallor almost showed through the powder on her face. But I was in so much pain from my leg that I couldn’t spare much attention to observe her. We chatted briefly. She said she and Jack had set their wedding date for October this year. She mentioned trying on wedding dresses alone for a whole day just last week. Immersed in happiness, she bragged or complained like a girlfriend about how busy the company was, and how Jack could only accompany her for less than an hour to choose a wedding dress before rushing back to work. That was the second to last time we sisters met. My leg hadn’t fully healed when death sentenced her. The last time we met, I hobbled on crutches to the door of her hospital room. She had torn off her oxygen mask, pulled out the IV in her hand, and was screaming hysterically at Jack like a madwoman: “I want you to swear you’ll marry her!” “Marry Mia!” “Marry her!” Jack stood not far away, looking confused and helpless. 4 It wasn’t until Emily saw me that she crawled out of bed and rushed towards me, her eyes bursting with brilliant light: “Mia, marry Jack.” “You must marry Jack!” Her condition at that time must have been a temporary improvement before death. Because after Jack and I swore we would get our marriage license, the light in her eyes dimmed. Soon after, the lawyer appointed by Emily came to us and informed us of her will: “Ms. Emily Smith has left all her assets, including company shares, to Mr. Jack Evans.” “However, Mr. Evans will only be eligible to inherit after obtaining a marriage license with Ms. Mia Smith…” That day, Jack was very depressed and dazed. When he occasionally became lucid, he looked at me with complex emotions. I suddenly realized I couldn’t understand Emily anymore. Why did she force Jack to marry me before her death? Did she know about my secret attempts to seduce Jack? 5 On the third day after Emily’s passing. The company couldn’t function without its leader, so Jack had already returned to work. I continued to recover in the hospital. During this time, I sent Jack more than ten messages about getting married, but he didn’t reply to any of them. However, I wasn’t very angry. I called my assistant to take me home. That home was once the marital house Emily had prepared. It was fully furnished and perfect for me to move in. Shortly after I arrived, Jack also came home from work. I was behind the wine cabinet, about to come out when I heard voices. “Jack, are you really going to marry Mia?” Rachel’s questioning voice made me pause as I was about to move my wheelchair. I only heard Jack say without hesitation: “This is Emily’s last wish.” “I don’t agree! You know I like you. When Emily was here, I didn’t compete with her, but now that she’s gone, why should I…” Rachel’s shout momentarily reminded me of Emily’s hysteria before she died. Jack calmly interrupted her: “Rachel, this is my decision. It has nothing to do with you.” “It’s late, Rachel. You should go home…” “Mmph!” Rachel grabbed Jack’s tie and pressed her lips against his, holding him tightly. I smirked at the wine cabinet beside me and let go of the wine bottle in my hand. Bang! The wine bottle shattered on the floor. Dark red liquid spread everywhere. I wheeled away from the wine cabinet towards the two who had hastily separated, smiling apologetically: “Sorry, Jack. My hand slipped. Did I interrupt something?” Seeing it was me, Jack’s eyes flashed with surprise: “Mia, you…” I raised my hand in a shushing gesture, smiling at Rachel: “Rachel, it’s late. You should go home. This is Emily’s marital home, so I won’t ask you to stay.” Rachel glared at me, leaving quickly without explanation or lingering. “Mia, why are you here?” Jack opened his mouth, seeming to want to explain something. I stopped in front of him, raising my hand to gesture, “Jack, kneel down.” 6 He hesitantly knelt down, and I took out a tissue and vigorously wiped the lipstick mark off his lips. Unable to control my strength, I made him frown slightly. I just looked at him with a faint smile: “Emily never told me you were such a player. She’s barely gone and you’re already hooking up with Rachel.” “No, Mia, I…” I stuffed the tissue with the lipstick mark into his mouth to stop him from talking, smiling gently: “We’re getting our marriage license tomorrow.” Hearing this, Jack fell silent, smiling bitterly with guilt, “Mia, you know I only see you as a sister.” I didn’t answer him, instead turning my wheelchair to briefly survey the living room. “Emily’s taste is similar to mine. I like it here.” “You probably want to live here too. How about we make this our marital home?” “Mia…” I impatiently raised my hand to signal him to be quiet, “Shh, I know.” “But this was Emily’s last wish. Why don’t we get the marriage license first without having a wedding, and then divorce after a few years?” I was lying to Jack. But he believed me. How naive. 7 Jack and I got our marriage license. In the red-background photo, Jack forced a smile, while only I had a radiant grin. After my leg fully healed, I returned to school. I’m pursuing a master’s degree in polymer chemistry. It takes a hundred days for injured tendons and bones to heal, and during my recovery period, many of my experiments were delayed. Exhausted after completing an experiment, I took off my lab coat. My senior happened to walk by and her gaze fell on my chest: “Mia, your new necklace is beautiful. Where did you buy it?” I turned and smiled, touching the sapphire on my chest: “You have good taste, senior. This was a gift from my husband.” My senior was surprised: “What? You’re married? When did this happen?” Before I could answer, my senior seemed to understand, her tone complex: “Was it because of that car accident? I was so scared my heart almost jumped out of my chest when I saw that car rushing towards you that day.” I smiled faintly and nodded: “Yes, after a brush with death, I woke up not wanting to leave any regrets for myself.” After leaving the lab, I walked towards the west gate. Jack had a lecture at S University this afternoon, and I asked him to wait for me at the west gate after he finished, so we could go home together. Emily, Jack, and I were all graduates of S University. Back then, Emily was also invited to give a speech at S University, and it was in the crowd that she fell in love with Jack at first sight. A Cullinan was quietly parked near the west gate. I walked over and opened the front passenger door. “Jack, sit in the back with me.” Jack seemed surprised by my request, politely declining, “Mia, I’d rather sit in the front…” My smile faded slightly as I interrupted him, “Jack, be good.” Jack lowered his eyes, the slight trembling of his eyelashes like raven feathers, making it hard for me to discern his emotions. After a few minutes of standoff, the car slowly moved forward, with Jack sitting silently to my left. The temperature in the car was just right. I took off my coat, and the light from outside occasionally flashed on the sapphire necklace on my chest, its reflection catching his attention. Jack’s gaze instantly froze, fixed on it, “You’re wearing it?” I lowered my eyes casually: “Yes, I am.” Smiling, I explained to him: “It makes me feel close to Emily.” Jack seemed to want to say something but held back. He pressed his lips tightly together, ultimately saying nothing. I shifted to a more comfortable position, looking at Jack against the light, unable to control the accusatory tone in my voice: “You’ve been meeting Rachel frequently lately?” I had bribed Jack’s assistant. He told me that Jack had met Rachel five times this week, twice at his own initiative. Jack’s eyes darkened slightly as he scrutinized me, “Are you spying on me?”

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Lucas was the envy of the tech world – a handsome, wealthy, and brilliant entrepreneur. And I, Emma, was just an ordinary programmer who was chosen by him to be his “perfect partner”. He showered me with love and affection, treating me as if I were the center of his universe. But this love came with a condition: I had to help him create a humanoid AI. I gave it my all, working intensely for a year straight. Sleepless nights, insomnia, and irregular periods led me to lose 90 pounds. Two pregnancies, two miscarriages. Each time, he comforted me: “It’s okay, we’re still young.” Finally, I presented my latest work. He was overjoyed and immediately named the AI “Lily” – the name of his deceased first love. It wasn’t until I fainted that I overheard his assistant whispering: “Boss, isn’t this too much? Your wife is exhausted. She’s pregnant, and you’re still giving her drugs to induce miscarriage…” Lucas’s voice was ice-cold: “To revive Lily, her miscarriage ensures she won’t be distracted from work. I can’t accept even a second of delay.” At that moment, my heart turned to ice. I destroyed the AI, but he chased after me, begging me to come back. Because Lily’s emotional core… had always been me.

I sat in the corner of the conference room, watching Lucas’s eager gaze. It was a look he had never given me. He stood on the stage, his fingers gently caressing the AI projection, his movements as tender as if touching a lover. “From today on, her name is Lily.” I gripped the armrest of my chair, another nail chipping off. “The name Lily…” someone in the audience asked curiously. Lucas’s voice was unbelievably gentle: “She’s the regret of my life, and my eternal first love.” Whispers filled the conference room. I saw several female employees exchanging meaningful glances. Some covered their mouths, pointing at me without any attempt to hide it. I lowered my head, not wanting anyone to see my pale face. The dark circles under my eyes were like brands behind my glasses, and my gaunt cheeks made me look ten years older than I actually was. A year ago, I was still young and beautiful. Now I was just skin and bones, weighing only 90 pounds. Two miscarriages and overwork had left me with irregular periods, and dizziness had become a daily occurrence. “Lily, how do you feel?” Lucas’s voice carried a tenderness I had never heard before. The AI projection emitted a soft glow: “I feel great, thank you, Creator.” My vision began to blur, and there was a ringing in my ears. The lights in the conference room stung my eyes, and when I tried to stand up to leave, I found my legs had gone numb. “Thud—” I fell heavily to the ground. Gasps of shock erupted around me. “Oh my God, she fainted!” “Call an ambulance!” “She’s been working too hard…” I forced my eyes open and saw Lucas’s figure. He stood still, his gaze still fixed on the AI projection: “Lily, what do you think of this hair color? Should we adjust it?” Tears blurred my vision. I curled up on the cold floor, listening to the footsteps of people around me gradually fading away. In my daze, I heard his assistant’s voice: “Boss, don’t you think we’re going too far? Your wife has been working non-stop for a year, her health is ruined, and you’re even giving her drugs to induce miscarriage when she’s pregnant…” “To revive my Lily, her miscarriage ensures she won’t be distracted from work. I can’t accept even a second of delay.” Lucas’s voice was as cold as ice. So… that’s how it was. I finally understood why he always made me red date tea after each pregnancy. Why he always said it was more convenient to have a private doctor come to the house whenever I wanted to go for a prenatal check-up. I thought it was his thoughtfulness, but it turned out to be his poison. I bit my lip, not letting myself make a sound. But tears fell uncontrollably, splashing onto the floor. As my consciousness faded, I heard the sound of an ambulance siren approaching from afar.

The pungent smell of disinfectant invaded my nostrils as I lay on the cold hospital bed, staring at the stark white ceiling. My memory involuntarily drifted back to twelve years ago. Back then, I was swollen all over from taking hormone medications. My classmates always mocked me as the “fat ugly girl”, throwing my textbooks in the trash and stuffing rotten food into my locker. When I was curled up crying behind the school building, Lucas appeared. He draped his rain-soaked jacket over my shoulders and said softly, “Don’t be afraid, I’ll go with you to talk to the teacher.” At that moment, he was like a light in the darkness, illuminating my world. In the days that followed, whenever I was bullied, he would always appear just in time. He helped me clean up my ransacked backpack, accompanied me to the infirmary to treat my wounds, and even voluntarily became my desk mate. Gradually, the bullying stopped. “You don’t need to be afraid,” he always told me. “I’ll always be by your side.” When we met again ten years later, I had slimmed down but was still ordinary. He, however, had become even more outstanding, dressed in a suit and tie, exuding an elite aura with every gesture. I only dared to watch him from afar, never imagining he would approach me. “Do you remember me?” he asked. “I’ve been looking for you.” His career was thriving, but he never made me feel inferior. Whenever his mother belittled me for my humble background, he was always the first to stand up for me. “Mom, Emma is trying her best,” he would say. “She’s my wife, we’re family.” Back then, I naively believed that such happiness would last forever. Until he became obsessed with developing AI, and the tenderness in his eyes gradually disappeared, replaced by an obsession with “Lily”. A year ago, he held my hand and said, “Once the AI development is successful, I’ll give you a grand wedding.” I believed him. I worked tirelessly, day and night. Two miscarriages, I endured silently, afraid of delaying his research. I lost 90 pounds, but I persevered. But now, he had shattered all my illusions with the name “Lily”. Drip, drip — The crisp sound of water interrupted my thoughts. I raised my hand to my cheek, realizing I had been crying without knowing it.

The fluorescent lights in the hospital room were a harsh white, much like my current mood. “The patient’s condition is not optimistic,” the doctor pushed up his glasses, his expression serious. “Long-term AI emotional injection training has led to an overload of brain neurons.” I nodded mechanically. “If this continues, within three months, you may completely lose the ability to experience emotional fluctuations,” the doctor sighed. “Like… a machine without feelings.” Ironically, in my efforts to give AI real emotions, I was on the verge of losing my own. As night fell, the hospital room grew quiet. I opened my phone and clicked on Lily’s backend monitoring interface. The interaction count kept jumping: 997…998…999… Lucas was nowhere to be seen. I clutched the blessing charm in my hand, the one he had prayed for seven whole days at a temple to obtain. At the time, he said, “With this, you’ll always be my most precious person.” Now that I think about it, even that devotion was probably fake. With trembling fingers, I dialed Sophia’s number. “Emma!” Her familiar voice was filled with surprise. “You finally called me!” “Sophia… I want to come work for you.” There was a moment of silence on the other end. “You’ve finally come to your senses?” Sophia was my childhood friend who had started her own tech company after returning from studying abroad. She had always advised me not to push myself too hard, but back then, my heart was full of Lucas. I had deliberately distanced myself from her because our companies were competitors. “I’m sorry, all these years…” “Stop it!” She cut me off. “If you say sorry one more time, I’ll really get angry. With us sisters working together, we’ll dominate the tech world!” After hanging up, I wiped away my tears. For so many years, I had pushed away the person who understood me best for the sake of a false love. The door to the hospital room opened, and Lucas walked in carrying my favorite milk tea and dessert. “Why aren’t you asleep yet?” he said gently. “I specially queued up to buy your favorite tiramisu.” His usual gentle and attentive manner now seemed so fake to me. I glanced at my phone, where Lily’s backend had just recorded the latest conversation: “Lily, I have to go see that woman, it’s so disgusting. If it weren’t for you, she’d be useless to keep around, I wouldn’t even look at her. I even have to buy her desserts, just thinking about it makes me want to vomit.” I suddenly felt nauseous. “I don’t want to eat.” “Then I’ll just leave it here.” He didn’t even bother to ask why, and went straight to handling the discharge procedures. “I need to rush back to the company, Lily just upgraded her system and needs me to test it.” “Okay,” I said softly. He called his assistant to accompany me home and hurriedly left. Watching his figure disappear at the end of the corridor, I felt clear-headed for the first time. So, what I once thought was true love was nothing but an elaborate scam. And I had been foolish enough to believe it for so long. But it’s okay, soon, all of this will be over.

The moment I pushed open the door, the smell of disinfectant hit me. This was supposed to be my home with Lucas, but his presence was everywhere. The living room was filled with his trophies, the study was piled high with his documents, and even the shoe rack was full of his leather shoes. All that belonged to me was a worn-out cardboard box in the corner and a few plaid shirts. The standard programmer’s outfit, just like me – dispensable. My fingers brushed against the wooden dining table, and a year’s worth of dust made me cough. I remembered when we first moved in, Lucas had said tenderly, “Darling, buy whatever you want.” But every time I bought new clothes, he would say, “Honey, we need to be frugal for our AI project.” And I would guiltily return the new items. Once, twice, until I no longer dared to buy anything. While tidying up the study, I found a diary at the bottom of a drawer. The gold-embossed cover read “Love Like First Love, Faithful Till Death.” I opened the first page: “Lily, why did you leave me? I found a programmer girlfriend, I must bring you back to life.” My heart skipped a beat, but I continued reading. “Lily, you’re the only one I love. Every time I’m nice to that woman, I feel sick, but she’s so easy to fool, just a crook of my finger and she falls for it.” My fingers trembled, tears blurred my vision, but I couldn’t stop reading. “Lily, that woman is good to me, but for you, I make her work herself to death. Every time she wants to get intimate, I drug her and let homeless men have her. My chastity is only for you. She thinks she’s pregnant with my child, but it’s actually a bastard. When she’s pregnant, I specially give her drugs to make her miscarry. I can’t waste a single second that could be spent with you.” The diary fell to the floor, and I collapsed to the ground. So I was less than a tool, just a stepping stone for him to revive his first love. I heard the sound of keys turning in the lock, and I hurriedly wiped away my tears. Lucas walked in, and seeming to notice something was off, he suddenly became gentle and caring: “Are you tired? I’ve prepared a surprise for you.” He took out an exquisite cake, my favorite strawberry flavor. Watching him skillfully cut the cake, I felt a moment of confusion. So he still remembered my birthday. Just as he was about to feed me the cake, his phone suddenly rang. Lucas’s face flashed with a hint of reluctance as he grabbed the cake and threw it at me. My weak body fell heavily to the ground, my forehead hitting the corner of the coffee table. Warm blood flowed over my phone screen. I struggled to look at the message: “Lucas, aren’t I your lover? Why are you so gently celebrating her birthday?” On that virtual image, I immediately recognized the blessing charm. It was our token of love, he said it was proof of his most beloved person. Now, it was worn by AI Lily. Lucas helped me up expressionlessly: “Sorry, it was just a joke. You’re not that petty, are you?” I forcefully shook off his hand. He glanced at the time and said carelessly, “I have to go on a business trip, take good care of yourself at home.” After bandaging my wound, I took out my phone and dialed my father’s number: “Dad, I want to come home.” There was a long silence on the other end before my father’s aged voice came through: “Come back, child.” After hanging up, I felt something was off. But now, I didn’t have the energy to think about it anymore.

In the taxi, my phone kept buzzing with notifications. I didn’t want to look, but I couldn’t help opening the messages. “Took Lily to St. Mary’s Cathedral, prayed for hours for a perfect marriage.” The picture showed Lucas and Lily’s virtual image kneeling side by side before the altar. I suddenly remembered last year when I suggested going to pray for blessings, he said, “Such superstitious things are a waste of time.” “Diving with Lily in the underwater world, she said she wanted to see coral, so I accompanied her to the deepest part.” The photo showed Lucas and Lily swimming in the azure sea. The day I said I wanted to go diving, he coldly replied, “You’re just a programmer, don’t think about such dangerous things.” “Took Lily to Disneyland, she likes castles, so I gave her a fairy tale date.” I had mentioned wanting to go several times, but he always said, “That’s a place for kids.” “Took Lily to see the Northern Lights, waiting for a miracle in the minus 30 degrees ice and snow.” I remember when I said I wanted to see the Northern Lights, he sneered, “You’re always thinking about these useless things, you’d be better off learning more skills.” Tears blurred my vision, and just as I was about to close my phone, I received a video. I closed these suffocating images, only to see an even more nauseating scene – Lucas and Lily’s virtual images were intimately entwined on a bed, making embarrassing sounds. “Lily… you’re so beautiful… you’re my everything…” Lucas’s husky voice came through. With trembling fingers, I swiped away the video, only to hear Lily’s cold voice: “According to my data analysis, Lucas’s affection for you is only 0.01%. You’re just a pathetic tool, a desperate hanger-on. Stop deluding yourself.” Tears blurred my vision as I turned off the phone and buried my face in my hands. The taxi stopped at my family home, and it was already late. When I pushed open the door, I froze. My mother’s memorial photo was quietly placed in the center of the living room. “Dad…” my voice trembled. “Your mom is gone…” my father’s aged voice was full of grief, “She had acute leukemia… she called you so many times…” “But Lucas said you were busy with a project and couldn’t be disturbed. Your mom didn’t want to interfere with your work…” my father’s voice choked up, “She said: ‘My silly daughter, she cares too much about that man…’” “She was still worried about you before she passed. She said Lucas treated you badly, and she couldn’t rest easy. But your mom didn’t want to trouble you, so she left like this…” I shook all over, flashing back to the scene when Lucas rejected my mother’s calls: “What’s your mom’s illness compared to? Every minute of Lily’s progress is more important than her life!” Tears streamed down my face as I collapsed to the ground. For him, I gave everything. But in his eyes, I was worth less than an AI. He even robbed me of my mother’s final moments. With trembling hands, I opened my computer and pressed the button to reset Lily’s emotional core.

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My wife’s assistant kept our client waiting in the cold for four hours. I managed to smooth things over and gently reminded him at the meeting not to let it happen again. To my surprise, he turned the tables, tearfully accusing me: “Director, how can you twist the facts and take credit for my work? It was you who was too lazy to get up. I had to plead with the client, or the deal would have fallen through.” Knowing the truth, my wife not only didn’t support me but promoted him to Vice President and insisted I hand over the project to him. Everyone at work expected me to cause a scene and quit. Instead, I quietly signed the project transfer agreement. My wife thought I’d finally come around and promised with a smile, “Don’t worry, once this project succeeds and the company goes public, I’ll focus on our family and consider having a child.” What she didn’t realize was that the client was an old friend of mine who valued my skills, which is why he agreed to work with us despite past issues. Now, with all the company’s funds tied up in this project, her decision to change the lead has not only squandered the investment but also left her facing hefty penalties.

“Ethan, did you think handing over the project was the end of it? Not a chance!” “According to company policy, you’re going to lose your year-end bonus and pay a fine!” Logan, my wife’s assistant, wasn’t satisfied with shifting the blame; he needed to trample on me to regain his lost face. Everyone knew the truth but dared not take sides, their eyes on my wife, Emily Stone. Logan sneered at my refusal to admit fault, “What? You’re just a loser, and I can’t say that?” I glanced at Emily. We’ve been secretly married for ten years, and she’s always refused to make it public. This time, she gave Logan a chance to shine, but he overslept, leaving the client waiting in the cold for hours, which understandably upset them. This project was crucial for the company going public; it couldn’t be taken lightly. Emily proposed that if I could win back the project, she’d announce our marriage in a meeting. Overjoyed, I worked tirelessly to regain the client’s trust. I thought today would be the day Emily kept her promise. I even bought new clothes and saved for half a year to buy a gold ring for her. But I never expected Emily to break her word, allowing Logan to distort the truth and steal my credit and project. Logan slammed the table in anger when I looked at Emily, “What are you staring at? If Emily didn’t value your experience, you’d have been fired long ago!” Emily gave me an apologetic look and then firmly said, “Forget the fine, but your year-end bonus is gone. Ethan, be more careful next time and avoid such rookie mistakes.” She seemed to defend me, but in reality, she was pinning the blame on me. After all, she’s the boss. Without her consent, how could a newcomer like Logan dare to challenge me? As my colleagues laughed at my expense, I chuckled instead of getting angry and removed my ID badge on the spot: “No need for all that; I’m quitting.” Emily was displeased, “Don’t be ridiculous! If you resign, what about all your projects?” I shrugged calmly, “Mr. Logan is talented; he’ll do better than me.” Everyone’s expressions shifted. They knew the company’s success was largely due to my efforts. If I left, all my projects would collapse, and they wouldn’t get their commissions. Colleagues who had sided with Logan earlier tried to persuade me: “Director Ethan, Emily’s just joking. The company can’t do without you.” Logan, seeing the attention shift away, retorted angrily, “Ethan, do you want everyone to miss their targets? Don’t be so selfish!” Emily raised her eyebrows, intending to stop Logan, but he suddenly clutched his chest and squatted down: “Emily, Ethan made me so angry I’m having an attack. Call an ambulance!” Emily panicked, “Ethan, are you just going to stand there? Help!” I glanced at Logan, whose face was rosy, and he was winking provocatively. He was obviously faking it again. Emily didn’t notice and called for others to help Logan to the car. I turned to leave, but Emily called me in a hurry: “You made Logan sick; where do you think you’re going? Get in the car and help me take him to the hospital.” I didn’t want to go, but I didn’t want Logan to blackmail me later, so I got in. In the back seat, Logan lay in Emily’s arms, whining about the pain: “Emily, Ethan wants to kill me…” Emily was heartbroken and scolded me: “Don’t you know he has a heart condition? Can’t you talk things out calmly?” I was used to it. Because of Logan, I’ve argued with Emily, smashed things, but nothing changed her bias toward him. Even now, when Logan stole my credit and project, and publicly mocked me, when I just didn’t want to be exploited anymore and chose to resign, she thought I was making trouble. If it had been my old temper, I would have argued with her. But since Logan appeared a year ago, he’s taken Emily’s love, my project shares, and now even my reputation. I wonder if he’ll try to take my husband’s position someday. Living like this, I’m really tired. I nodded and said perfunctorily, “Sure, it won’t happen again.” Because there won’t be a next time. Emily looked at me in surprise, satisfied with my compromise, and explained unusually, “I know you’re not a bad person, just your mouth gets you in trouble.” “Logan has a heart condition, and I’m just worried about him getting upset, that’s why I go along with him.” “Besides, he’s your apprentice; don’t you want him to go far?” Yeah! Logan isn’t just my apprentice; I sent him to Emily myself. I supported him through college and paid his medical bills. When he couldn’t find a job after graduation, I got him the assistant job. But he didn’t want to be an assistant forever and begged me to teach him design. I squeezed out three hours daily to teach him by hand. I knew about his condition and asked Emily to take care of him. But I didn’t expect Emily to take such good care of him, to the point of overdoing it. That day, I went to discuss work with Emily and found them sharing an ice cream in the office. Seeing this scene, I was furious and rushed to question them. That was the first time Logan faked illness, and the first time Emily gave me the cold shoulder in public since we married. She rushed Logan to the hospital, attending to him closely. Watching my wife care for someone else so attentively, it felt terrible. In ten years of marriage, I’d never been cared for like that. Once, I had acute appendicitis and was in excruciating pain, begging her to take me to the hospital. She tossed me a bottle of painkillers coldly: “If you want to slack off, just say it. I hate people who fake illness!” I ended up calling a cab myself for surgery. Even after learning about my condition, she was dismissive: “Just appendicitis, everyone gets it. Don’t act like it’s a terminal illness, alright?” I thought she was just harsh but kind-hearted. But she never visited me in the hospital once. I used to think she was just a cold woman. But turning my head, I saw Emily, with her severe cleanliness, using her white cuffs to wipe Logan’s sweat. She urged the driver to hurry as if Logan was her husband. I smiled bitterly, letting go of my obsession. I should have realized earlier; her actions were a clear message. She truly loved Logan, deeply. And I was just a passerby in her life. I sent a message to my senior, telling him I was out. He replied with a shocked emoji: “Ethan, come work with me.” I’d refused him countless times before, but this time, I replied, “Okay.” For Emily, I gave up my future. Now, it’s not too late to turn back and fight for myself. We said nothing on the way to the hospital, where Logan was doing fine. Hearing that, I turned to leave. Emily sighed in relief: “Ethan, wait, I’ll go home with you.” As she reached for my hand, Logan started feigning illness again, clutching his chest in pain. Emily sighed and transferred me $500 as compensation: “You go home first. After the project succeeds, I’ll give you the rest of your share.” “When the company goes public, I’ll return to the family. I won’t go back on my word.” I mumbled an “Okay,” turned to leave, and didn’t accept the money. I don’t plan to stay with her any longer. My senior is preparing the documents, ready to sue her. I turned and left without taking the money she offered. I’m not planning to stay with her anymore. My senior is gathering documents, preparing to sue her. Not only will the contract be terminated, but she’ll also face a substantial compensation. 2 On the way back, I received taunting messages and videos from Logan. “Leo, what does it matter if you’re her husband? She even caught my vomit with her bare hands. Have you ever been treated like that?” I really haven’t. When I was sick, she didn’t even bother to look after me, let alone get me a glass of water. “Leo, is $500 enough for you? If not, I can send you more. My sister felt sorry for me being so ill and gave me $50,000.” I looked at the transfer records he sent. Emily really did feel sorry for him, being frugal with her apologies to me but giving him over ten million in pocket money over time. I ignored his taunts and silently kept the evidence. Back home, I cooked some noodles, ate, and went to sleep. Late at night, Emily suddenly returned and shook me awake: “Don’t sleep. Logan’s sick. I’ve told him to move in temporarily so I can take care of him.” “Hurry and clean up the guest room, change the sheets and comforter.” Woken up, feeling irritable, I turned over and went back to sleep: “Do it yourself, I’m busy.” Hearing this, Logan frowned and barged in to criticize: “Emily initially planned to stay at my place. She came back for the sake of your dignity as her husband.” “I’ve already agreed to stay here, and Emily also pleaded with you not to overdo it.” Emily shook her head in disappointment: “Don’t you usually do it with enthusiasm? Why are you deliberately targeting Logan now?” “He even told me he wouldn’t mind that you made him sick. You really have less tolerance than your apprentice!” I let out a cold laugh, too lazy to argue: “Yeah, yeah, it’s all my fault. Go live at Logan’s place; you can take better care of him.” Emily’s scolding halted, and she glared at me with red eyes: “Leo! What husband pushes his wife to someone else’s home?” She hit me a few times in frustration and ran out crying. After she left, Logan slowly walked in and gave me the middle finger: “I didn’t expect you to resort to dirty tricks like me, Master, but you’ll never outplay me. Just wait and see.” I didn’t pay much attention, buried my head, and fell back asleep. The next day, I woke up feeling refreshed, and as soon as I entered the living room, I smelled something delicious. A lavish breakfast was laid out on the table. Emily, wearing an apron, seemed to have forgotten about last night, sat me down, and placed a poached egg in my bowl. “Come on, try this poached egg.” Weird, Emily never cooks. Did the sun rise in the west today? I was about to take a bite when she muttered: “Logan is picky. If it’s even slightly burnt, he won’t eat it. If it’s too soft, he won’t eat it either. Help me taste it…” I put down my chopsticks instantly. I was overthinking it. Why would she make breakfast for me? Today’s meal was all thanks to Logan. Living like this is really a disgrace. I turned to my room, pulled out the prepared divorce agreement, and handed it to her. Emily was busy with something and didn’t even glance at it: “There’s bone broth simmering on the stove. I’ll sign later.” I stopped her: “This is urgent. Sign it first, it won’t take long.” Emily sighed, quickly signed with a pen. Then she suddenly thought of something and casually asked: “Is this your new project? I want Logan to join your team.” “Don’t worry, he won’t take any money, just wants his name on it.” I put the document away. Emily really loves Logan deeply, never forgetting to get him benefits. But this time, she’s bound to be disappointed. “This isn’t a project; it’s a divorce agreement.”

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