Category: English

I accidentally got pregnant with the heir to the Prescott fortune, and he threw a black card at me with instructions to keep myself and the baby comfortable. I was in the middle of some much-needed retail therapy when his “one that got away”—fresh from a European conservatory—ambushed me. She pointed a perfectly manicured finger at my face, calling me a gold-digging whore trying to trap a man with a baby. Just as I was about to show her what a real fight looks like, a tiny sigh echoed in the space between my ribs. (Oh, for God’s sake. Mom’s about to do something stupid again. Last time, she went head-to-head with the ice queen, got tricked into a “miscarriage,” and ended up dying alone in some roach-infested studio apartment.) (She has no idea. If she just played the delicate flower for two seconds, the scales in Dad’s heart would tip so far they’d break.) Wait. Play the delicate flower? Oh, I was born for this role. 1 “You poor thing. Turning yourself into a walking incubator, all for a bit of money.” The voice was cool and laced with a theatrical pity that set my teeth on edge. “Asher only needs an heir, you know. He will never love you.” I looked up into a face so perfect it seemed computer-generated. Seraphina Dubois, the world-renowned concert pianist. The ghost of a girl Asher Prescott supposedly never got over. She stood there in a couture champagne-colored gown, poised as a swan, but her eyes held the kind of disdain you reserve for something you’ve just scraped off your shoe. I was literally balling my fists, ready to give her a masterclass in survival of the fittest, when a tiny, world-weary sigh reverberated through my womb. (Here we go. Mom’s about to blow it.) (Last time, she fought Seraphina tooth and nail. It got her a conveniently arranged car accident, a lost baby, and a lonely death in a one-room apartment in Queens.) (Doesn’t she get it? With a guy like Dad, you have to play the victim. He’s already halfway on your side!) What? My battle-ready stance froze mid-flex. The victim? Honey, I’m an expert. (Stop arguing! Now! Clutch your stomach, cry, and fall into Dad! It’s not that hard, Mom, come on!) The baby’s voice was a lightning strike, illuminating a path I hadn’t seen. I understood instantly. The warrior mask I’d been wearing dissolved. In its place, a pale, fragile woman emerged. My body swayed, a picture of instability. I pressed one hand to my lower belly, stumbling backward as perfectly formed tears welled in my eyes and spilled down my cheeks. “Miss Dubois, please… don’t say things like that…” My voice was a choked whisper, so fragile a stiff breeze might shatter it. “The baby… the baby can hear you… I… I feel so dizzy…” Seraphina was momentarily stunned by my sudden transformation, her brow furrowing with a mixture of impatience and contempt. Just as she was about to unleash another volley, I spotted the tall, imposing figure approaching behind her. With practiced precision, my knees gave out. “Ah—!” I cried out, letting my body fall backward. But I didn’t hit the cold, polished floor. I landed securely in a strong embrace that smelled of expensive cologne and cold power. Asher had followed us, likely expecting a scene. He didn’t expect to catch a damsel in distress. The primal, male instinct to protect kicked in instantly. He looked down, his gaze falling on my ghostly pale face and the hand clamped protectively over my stomach. His brow snapped into a severe line. “What the hell happened here?” His voice was a low, dangerous rumble. I didn’t speak. I just clung weakly to his sleeve, the tears falling faster now, painting the perfect picture of someone who had been deeply wounded but was too scared to say a word. The first crack appeared in Seraphina’s flawless composure. She clearly hadn’t anticipated my level of commitment to the role. “Asher, I was just talking to her. She just…” Before she could finish her lie, Asher cut her off, his voice like ice. “That’s enough.” He scooped me into his arms bridal-style and strode toward the exit without a second glance. As he passed Seraphina, he didn’t even bother to look at her. Nestled in his arms, I cracked open one eye just enough to send a silent, triumphant smile over his shoulder to the woman who now stood frozen in place. (Nice! The Damsel in Distress, Act One. Nailed it!) my unborn child cheered from within. (Dad’s a sucker for this knight-in-shining-armor routine. He can’t help himself.) 2 In the hospital, the sterile, antiseptic smell began to cut through the fog of my performance. A doctor stood before us, holding a tablet, his expression grim. “The patient’s emotional distress is causing uterine contractions. She’s at risk of a miscarriage and needs complete bed rest.” Asher stood beside me. At the word “miscarriage,” his gaze turned into a blade of ice, aimed directly at Seraphina, who stood, equally pale, in the doorway. It was the first time I had ever seen him look at her with anything resembling blame. A barely perceptible tremor ran through her body. I was settled into a private suite in the VIP wing, and Asher refused to leave my side. After a while, I “slowly” regained consciousness. I didn’t cry. I didn’t throw a fit. I just stared silently at the IV needle taped to the back of my hand. Then, with my other hand, I reached over, my movements weak but filled with a quiet finality, and tried to pull it out. “What are you doing?!” Asher’s hand shot out, clamping down on my wrist. His voice was thick with suppressed fury. I lifted my head, my eyes glistening with unshed tears, and looked at him. My expression was one of shattered, resigned calm. “Mr. Prescott, I’m so sorry.” “I never should have become an obstacle for you and Miss Dubois.” “I’ll leave now. I won’t bother you again.” I tried to push myself out of the bed, each movement a portrait of agony, my face paling even further. This strategic retreat was a direct assault on the control-obsessed psyche of a man like Asher Prescott. His child, his… woman. As if anyone else had the right to decide their fate. He pushed me back down onto the mattress, the force of it betraying the storm raging inside him. “My child. My decision,” he growled, his voice a low command. “You’re not going anywhere until I say so.” His tone was so absolute it startled me. Then, the tears I’d been holding back began to fall, silent, streaming down my face. Not the loud, hysterical sobbing of a tantrum, but the heartbreaking, muffled weeping of someone who has given up all hope. It was a cry scientifically engineered to trigger a man’s guilt and protective instincts. And it worked. The hard lines of Asher’s face softened slightly. He even looked, for a moment, like he wanted to wipe my tears away, his hand hovering awkwardly in the air before retreating. He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a folder and a sleek, black credit card, tossing them onto the nightstand. “That’s the property transfer for the Greenwich estate. And an Amex Centurion card, no limit.” His voice was still cold, but the words were pure gold. “Move in. Rest. And don’t cause any more trouble.” He gave me one last, long look, then turned and left the room. I stared at the documents and the card, my heart doing a victory lap. (Whoa! Mom, you’re a genius! One part damsel in distress plus one part strategic retreat equals a private estate and a black card!) (Dad is totally eating this up. The whole ‘I protect what’s mine’ narrative? It’s his favorite fantasy!) My baby’s praise was intoxicating. I picked up the black card, holding it up to the light, admiring its sleek, understated power. As of today, I was a woman with no limits. Just as I was basking in the glow, the door swung open. It was Seraphina. Her public mask was gone, replaced by an expression of pure, venomous jealousy. “Don’t get cocky, Maya.” “How long do you think your pathetic little tricks will work on Asher?” “He loves me. You’re nothing but a broodmare.” I leaned back against the pillows, lazily waving the black card in my hand. “Is that so?” I smiled, a picture of unbothered calm. “Because right now, your Asher is laying his entire world at the feet of this ‘broodmare.’” “Things have changed, Seraphina. In this day and age, love alone won’t keep you warm at night.” 3 I dutifully moved into the sprawling, secluded estate in Greenwich. But I didn’t go on a wild shopping spree, maxing out the unlimited black card like some lottery winner. (Mom, you’re finally using your brain. The real final boss isn’t Seraphina; it’s my dad’s grandmother, the Prescott family matriarch.) (There are two kinds of people she despises: gold diggers who reek of new money, and people like Seraphina, those pretentious types who talk about art and philosophy.) (To her, playing the piano is just a frivolous hobby, something for the help. It’s not ‘serious work.’) Heeding my baby’s warning, I pivoted my strategy. I hired a team of top nutritionists, and my daily meals were tailored to a strict prenatal regimen. I dismissed most of the superfluous household staff, keeping only a cook and a cleaner. I didn’t spend my newfound free time at spas or designer boutiques. Instead, I went to the estate’s library, found a collection of classic literature and a few guides on calligraphy, and started to teach myself. I even bought a beautiful porcelain tea set and began studying the quiet art of the tea ceremony. My goal was to transform myself into a vision of grace, tranquility, and traditional elegance. Sure enough, less than two weeks later, a vintage, deep-green Bentley with discreet diplomatic plates rolled silently up the driveway. Matilda Prescott, the true power behind the Prescott throne, had arrived for an unscheduled inspection, her own staff in tow. When the news reached me, I was wearing a simple linen dress, sitting by the window, practicing my calligraphy. My lettering was amateurish, clumsy even, but my posture was perfect, my expression one of deep concentration. That was the first thing the matriarch saw when she entered the room. She didn’t look at me. Her sharp eyes swept the villa first. No mountains of shopping bags, no signs of loud parties. The house was as quiet as a monastery. A flicker of surprise, almost imperceptible, crossed her face, but her expression remained a stony mask. “You’re the one they call Maya?” she finally asked, her voice aged but strong. I put down my pen, rose to my feet, and gave her a small, respectful bow. “Mrs. Prescott. It’s an honor to meet you.” She offered no pleasantries in return. Instead, she gestured to one of her attendants, who promptly set up a chessboard on the table between us. “Do you play?” “A little,” I answered honestly. “But I’m not very skilled.” “Sit.” It was a test, plain and simple. I took a deep breath and sat across from her. My chess skills were, as I’d said, terrible. Within half an hour, she had decimated my defenses. I had no chance. But I never grew flustered or impatient. When I lost, I conceded gracefully, my demeanor humble and respectful. Halfway through the game, her private phone rang. It was Seraphina, no doubt calling to tattle on me. Her syrupy voice drifted from the receiver: “Matilda, darling, Asher is…” Matilda Prescott’s brow furrowed in annoyance after just two words. Her eyes flashed with displeasure as she ended the call without a word. “Tiresome,” she muttered under her breath. When the game ended in my complete and utter defeat, her gaze fell upon a small, warming bowl on the desk beside me. “What is this?” “It’s a tonic for the baby, Mrs. Prescott,” I explained softly. “My nutritionist recommended it.” She studied me for a long, silent moment, her eyes, weathered by decades of power and intrigue, seeming to peer directly into my soul. Finally, she slipped an antique sapphire pendant from her own neck and placed it on the chessboard. “Wear this. It will keep you calm.” Her tone was still cold, devoid of any warmth. I accepted it with both hands, my mind racing. (Take it, you fool! That’s not just any necklace!) My baby was practically doing somersaults. (That’s a Prescott family heirloom! It’s only given to the woman the family officially recognizes as the next matriarch! Congratulations, Mom, you just passed the first round of interviews!) 4 Seraphina must have heard through the grapevine that I had somehow earned the matriarch’s approval. The news reportedly sent her into such a rage that she nearly smashed her multi-million-dollar Stradivarius. Head-on attacks weren’t working. Tattling to the matriarch had backfired. She decided to change tactics, to use the one weapon she believed gave her an insurmountable advantage: her “art.” A short time later, a high-profile charity gala was announced, set to take place at New York’s most exclusive hotel. The host of the event was none other than Seraphina Dubois. She called me personally, her voice dripping with flawless, saccharine politeness, to insist that I attend as her guest of honor. I knew it was a trap. But I also knew I couldn’t refuse. The night of the gala, I arrived in an elegant but understated gown that Asher had selected for me. Seraphina was the center of attention, a queen holding court. When she saw me, she glided over, a champagne flute in hand. “Maya, darling. I’m so glad you could make it.” Her smile was a perfect, predatory thing. Halfway through the evening, Seraphina took to the stage and made a stunning announcement. She intended to donate her most prized personal possession—a classic painting titled Madonna and Child—directly to me, as a blessing for my unborn baby. A spotlight instantly swiveled and pinned me in its glare. Every eye in the room turned to me. Two attendants wheeled out a massive, velvet-draped easel. With a flourish, Seraphina unveiled the painting. On the canvas, a serene mother held her infant son, her expression a holy, sorrowful mixture of love and piety. The assembled elites began to murmur in admiration. “My God, Seraphina is just too kind, too generous!” “I’ve heard of this piece! She acquired it at a small, private auction in Geneva. It’s her absolute favorite.” “To have her man stolen by a rival and still offer such a profound blessing… that’s a level of class most people can only dream of.” Seraphina stood on the stage, bathing in their praise, looking for all the world like an angel gracing us with her presence. She held a microphone out towards me. “Maya, please, come and accept my most sincere blessing.” I was trapped. Roasted alive on a spit of public opinion. If I accepted the gift, I was admitting to her superior grace and my own lowly status. If I refused, I was petty, ungrateful, and publicly insulting the city’s artistic darling in front of all of New York society. Just as I was caught between a rock and a hard place, my baby’s internal alarm system went into overdrive. (Mom! Do not accept it! Don’t even touch that painting!) (I remember this from an article I read in my last life! The artist who painted this went completely insane right after finishing it! He murdered his own wife and child, claiming the baby in the painting was cursing him!) (This isn’t a blessing, it’s a curse wrapped in canvas! She wants to mess with your head, to make you stare at it day and night until you’re a paranoid, weeping mess with prenatal depression!) A cold sweat broke out across my back. My hesitation hardened into resolve. So, you want to play dirty? Fine. Let me teach you how the real game is played.

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While helping my son with his homework, I mispronounced a line from a famous poem. My husband, Leo, corrected me. “It’s ‘The charge of the Light Brigade,’ not ‘The change of the Light Brigade,’” he said. And for that, I asked for a divorce. Leo stared at me, bewildered. “Over a single word?” I was about to nod when words began to scroll across my vision, like a live-stream chat. **【Here we go! This is the part where the shrewish side character makes a huge deal over nothing and tries to divorce the ML!】** **【I feel so bad for the ML. The pronunciation was officially changed like a hundred years ago. What’s wrong with him correcting her?】** **【Tbh, we should thank her. If she wasn’t so crazy, the ML would never realize how cool and understanding the FL is and they wouldn’t get their happy ending.】** **【LMAO, she has no idea. She thinks she’s just throwing a little tantrum, but she’s actually handing her husband over to someone else. Later, she’ll be on her knees, begging him to come back, but it’ll be too late. Even her own son won’t want her anymore!】** I froze, and my eyes instinctively darted to my son, Noah. His brow was furrowed in a look of pure disdain. “Auntie Evelyn said that anyone who doesn’t know how to say that is basically illiterate,” he said, his little voice full of scorn. “Mom, you can’t get mad at Dad just because you’re an idiot.” So, the chat was right. The “female lead” had already infiltrated our lives, and I hadn’t even noticed. I turned and started packing a bag. “Yes,” I said, my voice cold. “Over a single word.” 1 The love letters Leo wrote to me in college? I left them. The anniversary gifts he’d given me over the years? I left them. The matching couple’s sweatshirts we bought when we were just kids? I left them, too. I packed only what was absolutely necessary, all of it fitting into a single carry-on suitcase. When I wheeled my bag out of the bedroom, the warm, yellow light of the living room was still on. Leo was half-turned toward me, the other half of his body cloaked in shadow. He was slouched on the couch, his laptop open in front of him. He was in a meeting. But there were only two people in the video call. Him, and the “Auntie Evelyn” my son had just mentioned. Her real name was Evelyn Shaw. She was wearing a silk robe, a thin cigarette perched between her elegant fingers. Her voice was cool and detached. “Let’s just stick to the plan for the project. Now that we’re done with business, shall we talk about something personal?” she said, taking a drag. “Noah just called me. He said he wanted me to help him with his homework. What’s going on? Where’s your wife?” As Leo was answering her, I was rolling my suitcase toward the front door. He suddenly laughed, a short, sharp sound. He caught my eye, a flicker of defiance in his gaze. “She says she’s divorcing me,” he said, a smirk playing on his lips. “Because I corrected her pronunciation of a word.” I opened the door, my voice calm. “I’m leaving, Leo.” “Fine,” he said. “When do you want to go to the courthouse?” “Tomorrow. 2:30 PM. I’ll meet you there.” I gently closed the door, shutting out the look of sudden shock on his face. The chat in my head immediately exploded. **【??? What’s happening? Why isn’t she following the script? Shouldn’t she be throwing a massive fit right now?】** **【Come on, do your job! We need you to be a crazy, irrational shrew to make our FL look good! Go back in there and start a fight!】** **【You guys are so naive. Don’t you see what she’s doing? She only packed a tiny suitcase. She left all the important stuff behind. She thinks she’s coming back. It’s just a little manipulation tactic.】** **【I’ll bet you ten bucks she’s back in three days, tail between her legs.】** **【I’ll bet you she doesn’t even last the night!】** I closed my eyes, my hand gripping the handle of my suitcase so tightly my knuckles turned white. They didn’t know. I didn’t take those “important” things with me, not because I thought I would be back. But because they weren’t important to me anymore. 2 To win me over in college, Leo wrote me 99 love letters. I hadn’t been interested in dating. I wanted to go to grad school, to work in my professor’s lab, to dedicate my life to research. But he was persistent. He showered me with all the romantic gestures a girl could dream of. For a small-town girl who had spent her whole life with her nose in a book, it was a whole new world. Fireworks over the Disney castle. Stargazing from a boat in the middle of the ocean. A private serenade in the desert at sunset. I turned him down, again and again, but he just smiled. “I can wait, Amelia. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here.” In the end, I gave in. Those were the three happiest years of my life. I, who had never cared for such things, even bought us matching outfits. He would pretend to complain about my taste, but he would wear them with a proud grin. “This way,” he’d say, “the whole world knows you’re mine.” Everyone thought we were the perfect couple. The “nerdy but beautiful” valedictorian and the “rich, handsome” campus heartthrob. “If you two don’t make it,” they’d say, “I’ll never believe in love again.” So, when he proposed after graduation, I said yes. Saying yes meant giving up my dream of a PhD, moving to a new city with him, and starting over. I did it without hesitation. I found a job, and my work ethic quickly got me promoted to department manager. For the first few years of our marriage, he would always surprise me with a thoughtful anniversary gift. I thought I had it all. Love, a successful career… I thought I had found a new kind of fulfillment. Until I found out I was pregnant. Leo was ecstatic. He picked me up and spun me around, but when he saw the look on my face, his smile faded. “I know this is a bad time for your career,” he said, his voice quiet. “If you don’t want to… it’s okay.” He tried to smile, but as he turned away, I heard a small, choked sigh. I lay awake all night. The next morning, I packed away all the anniversary gifts, the love letters, the matching sweatshirts. Along with them, I packed away my youthful ambitions. A year later, after a long and difficult labor, our son, Noah, was born. And my life became completely tied to my family. I traded my power suits and high heels for sweatpants and sneakers. I gave up my monthly manicures and my biannual hair appointments. I became a full-time housewife. I didn’t realize how much I had changed until one night, Leo came home drunk. He wrapped his arms around me in bed, his hands slipping under my pajama shirt. As I leaned in to kiss him, he suddenly pulled back, sobered by the contact. In the darkness, he blurted out, “Amelia… have you gained weight?” He was right. I didn’t have time for the gym anymore. I was always rushing to take care of Noah, grabbing whatever food was quickest and easiest. My metabolism had slowed down. The pounds had crept on. When I sat down, I had three rolls of fat on my stomach. I wasn’t the dazzling Amelia he had fallen in love with anymore. I didn’t say anything. Leo got out of bed and went to the balcony. In the moonlight, I saw him light a cigarette. He was thinking of someone else. “I’ll transfer you some money,” he said, his back to me. “Go buy yourself some nice clothes tomorrow. Evelyn was telling me about the new Chanel collection. You should get out of the house more. You can’t just wear pajamas all the time.” That was the first time I had ever heard him mention her name. But I didn’t think anything of it. Until tonight. 3 Taking care of Noah took up all of my time. I trusted Leo completely, so I never asked him about his work. So, it was from the live-stream chat that I learned about Evelyn Shaw. She had been brought in as a new executive at his company three months ago. At first, no one liked her, including Leo. But in ten days, she had won everyone over. They all called her “Evelyn,” and said she was not only beautiful, but brilliant. A true “boss lady.” I looked at my reflection in the mirror. 150 pounds, wearing an old t-shirt and shorts, my skin dull, my hair dry. It was no surprise that Leo would end up with Evelyn. He was always drawn to bright, shining people. And me? I had been worn down by life, until all that was left was a dull numbness. I had almost forgotten… I used to be a bright, shining person, too. I called my old professor. We hadn’t parted on the best of terms when I left. I had a backup plan, just in case. But to my surprise, he was thrilled to hear from me. “Amelia, it’s not too late. It’s never too late.” I took a deep breath. “Okay, professor. I’ll book a flight and come see you as soon as I can.” After I hung up, the chat went wild. **【Is she kidding? She’s a stay-at-home mom who’s been out of the loop for years. She thinks she can just waltz back into academia? Is she crazy, or am I?】** **【You guys don’t get it. She’s just jealous of our Evelyn. She sees a powerful, beautiful woman who’s a threat, and now she’s trying to ‘improve’ herself.】** **【LMAO, I can’t. Does she really think she can compete with our FL? She’s just a pathetic, washed-up side character.】** **【She should just go beg the ML for forgiveness now. Maybe she still has a chance.】** **【Too late! Don’t you remember? Evelyn was comforting him all last night. He’s already falling for her! He even brought her a homemade sandwich this morning!】** My hand tightened on the doorknob. I remembered, a long time ago, Leo, who couldn’t cook to save his life, had learned to make sandwiches for me. “If you like them,” he had said, “I’ll make them for you forever. Only for you.” But then, at some point, he stopped. He said he was too busy in the mornings. But one time, when I pressed him, the truth slipped out. “Amelia, can’t you just eat less? Sandwiches are full of carbs, you know.” His disgust… it had been there all along, and I had been too blind to see it. I had let him treat me like that for so long. Was this really the Amelia I wanted to be? 4 Before I went to the courthouse, I got my hair done. The chat was merciless. **【LMAO, what did I tell you? She’s getting all dolled up to go beg the ML for forgiveness.】** **【Ugh, so pathetic. Couldn’t even last 24 hours.】** **【No wonder the ML fell out of love with her. Who could love such a desperate, clingy woman?】** … I ignored them and arrived at the courthouse at 2:30 PM, right on time. Leo was ten minutes late. A sleek, black Lincoln pulled up to the curb, and the window rolled down. Evelyn was at the wheel. She looked me up and down, a smirk on her lips. “Hello, Ms. Davis.” Leo got out of the passenger seat. “Sorry, the meeting ran long,” he said. “Another private meeting for two?” I asked with a smile. He frowned. “Amelia, you don’t have to be so aggressive. Evelyn is a dual major, with a law degree. Since we’re getting a divorce, it’s important to discuss the division of assets, and…” He glanced at the back seat. “Noah’s custody.” The chat saw my hesitation. **【Here we go. The son is her whole life. She’ll never give him up.】** **【Too bad the son already loves our Evelyn more. Who would want a poor, ugly, washed-up mom when you could have a beautiful, cool stepmom?】** Even with my “god’s-eye view,” I wasn’t completely immune to their words. Noah was seven years old. I had poured my entire life into him for seven years. He was the precious treasure I had almost died to bring into this world. I couldn’t just give him up. But just as I was about to speak, Noah, who had been hiding behind Leo, peeked out at me. “Dad, Mom can’t even say ‘Light Brigade’ right. How is she supposed to teach me anything?” My heart clenched. All my hesitation vanished. I let out a short, sharp laugh and walked into the courthouse. “You can have him. I don’t want him.” 5 As we were signing the papers, the clerk gave us the standard speech. “Are you two sure about this? Divorce is a major life decision. You shouldn’t do it just because you’re angry.” Leo leaned back in his chair, a smirk on his face. “Did you hear that, Amelia? It’s just one word. Don’t be so petty. You’ve spent the last seven years revolving your life around Noah. Are you sure you can live without him?” His tone was so condescending. Even here, in this drab government office, with the divorce papers right in front of him, he still thought this was just a game, just a tantrum I was throwing. It was then that I realized how long we had been together. So long that not only had I lost myself, but he had forgotten who I used to be. Without a moment’s hesitation, I signed my name.

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For Thanksgiving week, my parents shelled out a fortune for a brand-new RV to take the family on a road trip through the national parks. My mom pinged the family group chat: **”Departure time is imminent! Princesses, get ready! 👑”** I replied with a thumbs-up emoji, just like my older sister Ashley and my younger sister Brooke. Then I finished my last DoorDash delivery and rode my electric scooter back to campus to wait by the main gate. The first stop was Brooke’s dorm. She posted a boomerang on her Instagram story, holding up a slice of watermelon and flashing a peace sign. The caption: **”Parents who spoil you are the best parents! 🤩 Off to Yellowstone for a week of RV life with the fam! #blessed”** The second stop was Ashley’s off-campus apartment. She filmed a short video, panning between two small but stylishly decorated beds in the back of the RV. **”Thank god my parents don’t play favorites. Even in an RV, my sister and I get our own custom beds. 😉”** Staring at the clean, dreamy, Pottery Barn-esque interior on my phone, I tugged self-consciously at my own sweat-soaked DoorDash t-shirt. Hours passed. The campus gates were about to be locked for the night when a new video popped up in the group chat. It was from Brooke. **”Ugh, look how gross Cameron looks. She doesn’t actually think we’re taking her with us, does she?”** The video was shot from inside the RV as it drove right past my campus gate. I was in the frame, still in my bright red delivery uniform, squatting on the curb like a stray dog someone had left behind. A second later, the video was deleted. My legs were stiff as I forced myself to stand up. I muted the family group chat and sent a text to my shift manager at DoorDash. **”Hey Mark, I’m not taking the week off after all. Is the holiday bonus for perfect attendance still on the table?”** If I worked every shift this month, I’d finally have enough saved up for the study abroad program in Finland. I didn’t have a family. But I still had a dream worth chasing. 1 Mark called me back immediately. “I thought you were excited about the trip with your parents,” he said, concern in his voice. “Just suck it up and apologize for whatever it was, Cam,” he advised. “You’re a young woman. Why make your life harder than it has to be?” I curled my fingers into a fist, my voice tight. “They never came… I’m not going.” “They’re busy people,” I added, the familiar excuse tasting like ash in my mouth. “Next time, maybe.” *Next time.* That was the phrase I’d heard my entire life. When I was born, they were in the middle of launching their start-up. They dropped me off with my grandmother upstate, and every holiday, every school break, their promise over the phone was always the same: *We’ll see you next time, sweetie.* When I graduated from middle school, I won the award for top student in my class. I ran to the nearest payphone, clutching my certificate. “Mom! I got first in my cl—” For the first time ever, my mother’s voice was sharp, cutting me off like a knife. “Cameron! Your father and I are in the middle of a huge deal! When will you ever learn to stop being so needy?!” “They say children are a blessing, but you… you feel like a curse!” My dad got on the line, his tone just as harsh. “We are working ourselves to the bone out here to provide for you, Cameron. When are you going to grow up?” “Sometimes I wonder if you’re even our child. You’re such a disappointment.” That was the last time I ever called them. They finally seemed to remember I existed when I got a scholarship to a prestigious high school in the city. After I moved in with them, I realized just how successful they’d become. They lived with Ashley and Brooke in a beautiful suburban house. Both my sisters had their own perfectly decorated “princess” rooms. I was given the guest room on the first floor. For a while, I held onto a secret hope that they would see how much they had neglected me. But compared to Ashley, who they’d always raised, and Brooke, the baby of the family who’d never known anything but comfort, I was just the awkward, unaffectionate middle child. The spare part. That neglect curdled into resentment the year we all took the SATs. I scored high enough to get into Brooke’s dream school. She didn’t. They were furious with me, as if I had stolen her spot, cursed her with bad luck. A notification on my phone screen pulled me from my thoughts. My mom had sent me $100 via Zelle. The message read: **”This month’s allowance. Spend it wisely.”** A hollow, teary laugh escaped my lips. It was the last day of the month, and she was just now remembering to send my allowance. One hundred dollars. That was the budget they had set for me. During my freshman year, I tried to gently explain that $100 a month wasn’t enough. It barely covered my meal plan at the dining hall, let alone textbooks or basic necessities. I even made a little video diary of my daily expenses to show her. Her response was a furious phone call. “You grew up with your grandmother on a farm, Cameron! Where did you learn to be so wasteful with money?” “Do you have any idea how hard we work? We don’t ask you to contribute, but the least you could do is be a little more considerate!” My eyes burned with shame. I quit all my clubs. I started buying the cheapest, generic brand of tampons. Asking my parents for money became the most humiliating act I could imagine. So when my professor recommended me for the fellowship in Finland, my first feeling wasn’t joy. It was anxiety. I spent sleepless nights calculating the costs, trying to figure out how I could possibly earn enough money. The minute this semester started, I began delivering for DoorDash in every spare moment I had. On my very first day, I got lost, worked too late, and missed the dorm lockdown. I ended up squatting by the campus gate, just like tonight, debating whether to spend my meager earnings on a cheap motel room. That’s when I saw Brooke’s post. It was a screenshot of her Postmates order history. The caption: **”OMG just realized I spent over $10k on food delivery last semester! My parents truly refuse to let me suffer lol.”** Ashley had commented below: **”You’re ridiculous! At least I’m saving my allowance to go backpacking through Europe after graduation.”** It was in that moment that I finally understood. My parents had plenty of money. It just had nothing to do with me. 2 When I didn’t immediately accept the Zelle payment, a second text from my mom came through. **”Brooke didn’t mean to call you gross. She’s young and she speaks without thinking. Didn’t you see her apologize in the chat? Don’t make a big deal out of this.”** I clicked back into the muted group chat. After deleting the video, Brooke had sent a flurry of messages. **”Oops wrong chat lol. Cameron didn’t see that did she?”** **”Why isn’t she responding? She’s not mad at me is she??”** **”I’m sorryyyy, I didn’t actually think you’d see it.”** Ashley had chimed in right after: **”Aren’t you busy working anyway? You don’t need to waste your time on a family vacation with us.”** A few half-hearted, joking “apologies,” and because her precious baby was “upset,” my mom immediately came running to scold me. I wiped the tears from my face and typed back, my fingers cold and steady. **”I work because my allowance is $100 a month.”** **”Unlike Brooke, who has $10,000 to spend on Postmates.”** **”And unlike Ashley, who has you to bankroll her trip around the world.”** **”I was never really part of this family, was I?”** **”It’s fine. But I’m never going to forgive any of you.”** I ignored the explosion of angry calls and texts that followed and got back on my scooter. I was focused on my phone, trying to claim a new delivery order, when a speeding sedan shot out of a side street. The world became a blur of screeching tires and shattering plastic. I was thrown from the scooter, and the pavement rushed up to meet me before everything went black. When I opened my eyes again, a searing, throbbing pain radiated through my entire body. Before I could even speak, a hand cracked across my face. My father was standing over my hospital bed, his eyes blazing with fury and disappointment. “Cameron, how could we have raised something so heartless!” he roared. “You were jealous we were leaving without you, so you cooked up this whole drama, didn’t you?!” Ashley stood off to the side, taking off her glasses to dab at her dry eyes. “She did it on purpose,” she sniffled. “She saw my text in the group chat about my friend Sarah picking me up. She crashed into Sarah’s car on purpose!” “She just wanted to embarrass me in front of my friends, to make sure everyone knows my sister is a delivery driver!” My mother wrapped a protective arm around Ashley, cooing at her. Brooke plopped down on the edge of my bed, her weight landing directly on my injured leg. A bolt of white-hot pain shot up my side, but she didn’t seem to notice. She poked me in the chest with a perfectly manicured finger. “You’re so twisted, Cameron,” she said. “Don’t air our dirty laundry in public. We were nice enough to let you work your stupid job, and you repay us by trying to humiliate us?” The scrapes and bruises covering my body were nothing compared to the dull, crushing ache in my chest. No one had asked me where I was hurt. They only cared about their own image. I closed my eyes, my voice a choked whisper. “How is delivering food humiliating?” “How is earning my own living an embarrassment to you?” A hot rush of tears and anger flooded my senses, and the question I had buried for twenty years finally broke free. “Why was I born into this family if it was going to be a mistake?!” “If you didn’t love me, why did you even have me?!” The room fell into a suffocating silence. When I opened my eyes again, only my mother was left. She sat on a chair across the room, her expression cold and appraising. She let out a short, bitter laugh, as if remembering something hateful. “Do you know why we named you Cameron?” she asked, her voice flat. “Because when I was about to get an abortion, some quack doctor told us you were a boy. So your father and I decided to keep you. We gave you a boy’s name, hoping.” “We have fed and clothed you all these years. What right do you have to complain?” My mind went blank. I clutched the thin hospital blanket. “When I start earning real money, I’ll pay you back for everything—” “With what?” she cut me off. “Your DoorDash tips?” “Your father and I would just be grateful if you stopped trying to take things that don’t belong to you. That’s all we ask.” I let my eyes fall shut, exhausted. I had no more words left. 3 My parents signed me out of the hospital against medical advice. The nurses urged me to stay a few more days, but I didn’t have the money to pay for it anyway. As we were leaving, I overheard one of the doctors sigh. “That family looks like they stepped out of a magazine. Why do they treat their middle daughter like she’s a criminal?” I pressed my lips together and said nothing, just hobbled along behind them. When we got to the RV, Brooke turned around. “Why are you still following us? You think pulling that little stunt actually earned you a spot on this trip?” I started to walk past them, toward the main road, but my mother grabbed my arm and pushed me toward the RV door. “Get in the car. You think you can go back to work covered in bandages?” I looked at her, shocked. She avoided my gaze, but I could see a faint redness in her eyes. A bitter, unfamiliar warmth pricked at my heart. It was the first time in my life I had felt even a sliver of twisted, reluctant concern from her, and I found myself unable to refuse. Inside, my parents took the front seats while Ashley and Brooke lounged on their beds, scrolling through their phones. The whole interior was decorated in shades of pink and rose gold. I stood there awkwardly in my dirty, torn DoorDash uniform, feeling completely out of place. My father shook his head in exasperation. “Can one of you just let her sit down for a minute?” Ashley put in her AirPods. “I’m busy explaining to my friends why my sister throws herself in front of cars for attention. I’m so over this.” Brooke sat up and threw a pillow onto the floor. “No way,” she whined. “She’s disgusting. I don’t want her dirt on my bed!” My father glanced at me in the rearview mirror, his expression a mix of pity and annoyance. “Cameron, just go use the shower in the back.” “You’re a young lady. How can you let yourself get so filthy?” I clenched the hem of my shirt, took off my shoes, and walked to the tiny bathroom. The warm water felt incredible, washing away the grime and some of the exhaustion. Outside, I could hear Brooke’s whining. “Mom, look! She got her gross footprints all over my favorite bath mat!” “This is so annoying! Can’t we just drop her back at her dorm?” Ashley chimed in. “Seriously, it’s like having a stranger with us. It’s so awkward.” My mother cut them off. “Alright, that’s enough. It’s just a bath mat. I’ll wash it for you, and when we get back, I’ll buy you ten new ones, how about that?” My father’s low voice rumbled in agreement. “And didn’t we promise you that condo for graduation? You can cover the whole floor with them then.” Suddenly, the warm water in the shower turned ice-cold. The shock of it made me gasp. My mother was outside, washing the bath mat, using up all the hot water, completely forgetting I was in here. Just like they discussed my fate as if I couldn’t hear them. I was used to it. But still, the tears came, hot and silent, mixing with the freezing water. Hidden by the sound of the shower, I finally let myself cry for twenty years of accumulated loneliness. 4 I stepped out of the bathroom, shivering, wrapped in a towel. Brooke’s head snapped up. She let out a shriek and lunged at me, trying to rip the towel away. “Who said you could use my towel?! This is from Neiman Marcus! You’re not worthy of touching it!” My face flushed with humiliation as I clutched the towel tightly. “My clothes are wet! I’ll change as soon as they’re dry!” “I’m sorry, Brooke, I’ll wash it for you as soon as I can, okay?” She dug her nails into my arm. “Now! Take it off right now!” My mother came over and pulled us apart, rubbing her temples. “What is it now? Can you two go five minutes without fighting?” Brooke’s eyes instantly filled with tears. “Mom, she stole my birthday present! This towel has my monogram on it! I haven’t even used it yet!” My mother’s glare was ice. “Cameron, we let you manipulate your way onto this trip. Why do you have to keep causing problems? Does it make you happy to make everyone else miserable?” I swallowed the bitterness in my throat and silently picked up my still-damp, dirty clothes. “I’ll change right now.” I hung the freshly washed designer towel up to dry and found a small corner of the floor to curl up on. I hadn’t slept in what felt like days, and between the accident and the brewing fever, my head felt like it was full of cotton. I just wanted to close my eyes. The RV hit the highway as night fell. Ashley stepped over me to get to the bathroom. A moment later, I heard a piercing scream. She stormed out, her hair dripping wet, and slapped me hard across the face. The force of it knocked me from my sitting position onto the floor. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?!” she shrieked, pointing at me with disgust. “You turned the water heater off! You want me to get sick so you can take my spot on this trip? In your dreams!” My mother rushed over with a dry towel and started rubbing Ashley’s hair. “Sweetie, are you okay? Does your head hurt? I’ll make you some hot tea, don’t you worry.” Ashley clung to our mother, her voice filled with venom. “She’s a psycho, Mom. She’s been trying to ruin this trip from the second she got on. If she’s here, none of us are going to have any fun!” This time, my mother didn’t yell at me. She just looked at me with a cold, weary expression, as if I were a complete stranger she was tired of dealing with. “Tonight,” she said, her voice flat, “you’re sleeping at the truck stop.” “Don’t you dare ruin what little bit of family feeling we have left, Cameron.” They pulled into a desolate, 24-hour truck stop and pushed me out the door. I heard the lock click behind me. Through the window, I could see them setting up the projector to watch a movie. My mother was making hot chocolate for Ashley. Inside, it looked like a cozy, loving home. Outside, I squatted in my damp clothes, shivering in the cold. I waited until all the lights inside went out, but the door never opened. There was no motel, so I curled up on a metal bench, clutching my phone. The balance of my savings account was my only source of warmth. If I could just survive this week, I could go back to campus and finally be free. For the next few days, my fever came and went. I begged to stay and rest in the RV, but Brooke threw a fit. “If you stay here alone, who knows what you’ll steal!” So I became their pack mule. I carried their souvenirs, their backpacks, and I was the designated videographer for their happy, four-person family moments. The last stop on their seven-day trip was Lake Jenny in the Grand Tetons. As a “reward” for being so obedient, they let me come with them on the tour boat. Before we boarded, my father pulled me aside. “Your sisters have actually been in a good mood the last few days,” he warned, his voice low. “You keep your mouth shut and do what you’re told, and tonight, I’ll let you sleep in the RV.” My fever-addled brain could barely process his words. I just nodded numbly. He looked at my weak, unsteady posture with disgust. “Who are you trying to guilt-trip with that pathetic act? Your mother and I are not the kind of people who let one person’s mood ruin a vacation. Don’t think for a second we’ll cut this trip short for you.” Out on the sparkling water, the tour guide offered to take a family photo. I instinctively took everyone’s bags and started to step away, but my mother grabbed my hand and pulled me back. “You behave,” she hissed, “and I’ll still acknowledge you as my daughter. Got it?” She positioned me on the very edge of the group, just barely in the frame. As the camera shutter clicked, I felt a hard shove from behind. My body tilted, tipping uncontrollably over the side of the boat. A desperate survival instinct kicked in. Just before my strength gave out completely, my hand shot out and clamped down on a piece of clothing. *SPLASH!* *SPLASH!* Two bodies hit the water. The boat erupted in screams. I had pulled my mother in with me. As the icy water closed over my head, a strange sense of peace and release washed over me. Acting on pure instinct, I used my last ounce of strength to push her upward, toward the surface. I felt her being pulled from the water by other hands. Then, I lost consciousness completely.

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Broke and starving, I did the unthinkable. I kidnapped Brook Tyler, heir to the Tyler empire. “Five thousand dollars,” I demanded, my voice trembling, “or I’ll have my way with you.” In the dim, cramped space of my studio apartment, Brook was on his knees, his hands bound behind him. He’d been tense, but the number that tumbled from my lips made him burst out laughing. “Five thousand? Who do you think you’re insulting?” he scoffed. “You might as well just have your way with me.” But his wallet only held five hundred dollars. I snatched the cash and bolted. Later, in the basement of his mansion, he tied me up in the exact same way. Suitcases filled with cash were piled before me. “Ava,” he said, his voice a low growl. “That’s fifty million.” “Tonight, you’re having your way with me.” 1 “Five thousand? Who do you think you’re insulting?” Brook’s laughter was sharp, his face flushing from pale to a deep crimson. “You might as well just have your way with me.” I stared at him, my carefully constructed bravado crumbling into panic. Grumble. My stomach betrayed me with a loud, pathetic growl. I hadn’t eaten in two days. If I hadn’t been so desperate, I never would have risked something as insane as kidnapping Brook Tyler. I just didn’t expect him to have so little regard for his own virtue. Given the choice between his money and his body, he’d picked his body. I guess it’s true what they say: the richer they are, the tighter their wallets. All I wanted was enough cash for a meal. Hearing my stomach’s protest, Brook cleared his throat, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. “Hungry?” I nodded, feeling a wave of dizziness wash over me. I was starving, practically on the verge of blacking out. He looked at me as if I were a ticking bomb. He strained against the ropes, but they held fast. Defeated, he let out a sigh of resignation and shifted his hips forward, an absurd picture of a man marching to his own heroic doom. “Well, go on then.” Excuse me? What did he mean, go on? Was he telling me to take the money from his pocket? When I just stood there, frozen, he prompted me, a note of impatience in his voice. “You don’t know how?” he asked. “I can teach you. Just… be gentle.” A slow burn of red crept up the tips of his ears. Just checking his pockets. How hard could it be? I crouched down and my hands scrambled over the pockets of his expensive jeans. He was Brook Tyler, the golden boy of the city. He had to be loaded. I’d definitely picked the right target. The moment my fingers made contact, his entire body went rigid. His face, already flushed, deepened to a shade of scarlet. “Not there…” he rasped, his voice tight. “A little more… to the middle.” Following his lead, I slid my hand deeper into his pocket. I didn’t find a wallet, but my fingers brushed against something hard and searingly hot. I didn’t have time to process it. My vision was starting to tunnel from hunger. All I could think about was food. I must have pressed too hard. A low groan escaped his lips, and his body went slack, slumping against me. A rich, warm scent of coconut and almond enveloped me—a surprisingly sweet, gourmand fragrance. Of all the things for a man like Brook Tyler to smell like, he smelled like dessert. Damn it. Now I was even hungrier. 2 I redoubled my efforts, my fingers digging more frantically. But Brook had gone completely limp, melting into my arms like he didn’t have a bone in his body. It was annoying enough not finding any cash, but now he was making it impossible. His heavy breaths ghosted across my ear, sending an unwelcome shiver down my spine. I slapped his cheek, harder than I meant to. “What do you think you’re doing, rubbing up against me?!” His eyes were hazy, half-lidded. “Just hurry up,” he pleaded, his voice thick. “Stop torturing me.” Right. Being tied up must be uncomfortable. I could see that from the way he was squirming and whining. I continued my search. Finally, deep in his pocket, my fingers closed around what I was looking for. I pulled it out. Five hundred dollars. I’d hit the jackpot. It wasn’t the five thousand I’d demanded, but five hundred was enough to keep me afloat for a month. I completely ignored the dazed, flushed man at my feet. I ran. I didn’t see him lose his balance as I shot up, tumbling to the floor. And I certainly didn’t see the look on his face as he lay there, seething with a mixture of frustration and unslaked desire. 3 With money in hand, I made a beeline for the first food truck I saw and bought a loaded steak burrito—the kind of meal I only let myself dream about lately. As I ate, hot tears streamed down my face, mixing with the salsa. Two weeks ago, my family’s company had gone bankrupt. Drowning in debt they could never repay, my parents had jumped from the roof of their office building. Every asset we owned was seized. Overnight, the princess everyone envied became a penniless orphan. I left our mansion with nothing but a photograph of my parents. It was winter break, so the university dorms were closed. I’d never been one to save money. When disaster struck, all I had was enough to cover the deposit on a room in a cramped, run-down apartment. I found a part-time job at a 24-hour convenience store, surviving on the free lunch they provided. But two days ago, I’d shown up for my shift to find the store completely gutted, shelves empty. I messaged my boss. His reply came instantly. “Economy’s bad. Had to close up.” “But you haven’t paid me yet!” I typed back, my thumbs shaking. I’d worked there for almost a week. That was nearly eight hundred dollars. “You didn’t even make it through the trial period. What wages?” When I tried to reply, a single red exclamation mark appeared. He’d blocked me. Broke and jobless, my last lifeline was gone. I spent all of yesterday searching for work, with no luck. Today was more of the same. The world was spinning from hunger. And that’s when I saw him. Brook Tyler. I’d only seen him a few times at galas, but his arrogant charisma and infuriatingly perfect face had left an impression. He wasn’t in a tailored suit now, just a grey hoodie, leaning casually against the wall outside a Michelin-star restaurant, waiting for someone. Even dressed down, he drew stares. That face was a public disturbance. But he seemed drunk. His cheeks were flushed, and he swayed on his feet. Watching him, a dark, desperate idea took root in my mind. My life was already in ruins. What did I have left to lose? Taking advantage of his drunken state, I led him back to my apartment and tied him up. 4 It was only after I was full and warm that it hit me: Brook Tyler was still tied up in my apartment. Oh, God. Hunger had clouded my judgment. Now, with a clear head, I realized the catastrophic mess I’d made. Was I tired of living? This was Brook Tyler, a man who could crush me with a flick of his finger. I spent twenty dollars on a fancy boba tea as a peace offering and rushed back, my heart hammering against my ribs. I opened the door, my hands trembling, to an empty room. The ropes lay discarded on the floor. He was gone. Panic seized me. I hadn’t even gotten to apologize. Was he going to call the cops? Even if he didn’t, if he held a grudge, my life was over. My hands shook so badly I could barely pierce the plastic film of the boba tea I’d bought for him. I started to drink it myself. It was already getting cold. Maybe my life was, too. Trapped between the fear of the cops and the terror of Brook Tyler, I cried myself to sleep. 5 The next few days were a blur of anxiety. But thanks to Brook’s five hundred dollars, I survived the worst of it. At this point, I’d almost welcome being arrested. But he never called the police. I managed to find a new job as a caddy at an exclusive country club. The monthly salary was just enough to cover my tuition. If the tips were good, I might even have some money left over for living expenses. I changed into my uniform and waited for the guests I’d been assigned to. When I saw their faces, my blood ran cold. I ducked my head, hoping to become invisible. A group of four or five people strolled toward the green. Leading them was Brook Tyler. Of course. My luck was just that good. And on his arm was Maggie Vance, the daughter of my parents’ biggest business rival. While my family was in ruins, the Vances had been thriving. Rumor had it their families were planning to merge through marriage. That was another reason I’d been desperate enough to kidnap him. Maggie was draped on Brook’s arm like a designer accessory. So, the rumors were true. A bitter taste filled my mouth. I didn’t dare look at them, but as Maggie passed, her eyes scanned me from head to toe. Humiliation and fear made my hands feel clumsy and useless. Then, she smiled, a bright, predatory flash of teeth. “You must be our caddy for today. You look just like a friend of mine.” My voice was a strained whisper. “You… you must be mistaken.” “Hm, you’re right, I must be,” she mused, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “The young lady I know would never lower herself to being a caddy.” In my plain uniform, I was just another face in the crowd. Brook, standing beside her, was a portrait of aloof indifference. He hadn’t even glanced in my direction. The light in my apartment had been dim. Maybe he hadn’t gotten a good look at my face. If Maggie recognized me now, in this state, she would tear me to shreds for sport. But neither of them seemed to know who I was, and my frantic heartbeat finally began to slow. 6 As they played, Maggie deliberately brought up my family. “I heard the Zhou Corporation went under. And Ava’s parents… they actually jumped.” “I haven’t heard anything about Ava since. Do you guys know what she’s doing now?” “Someone said she’s working at a convenience store. Can’t even afford tuition.” Through it all, Brook acted as if he couldn’t hear them, focusing entirely on his game. Each comment was a fresh stab of pain. The Vances and the Zhous had been bitter rivals. My family’s destruction was her victory parade. I kept my head down, focusing on my work, trying to block them out. The entire game was torture. But something was off with Brook. For three solid hours, he didn’t sink a single ball. One of his friends finally ribbed him. “Hey, Tyler, what’s with the off-day? You’re usually a hole-in-one kind of guy.” “Yeah, man, you seem a little distracted.” “It’s gotta be the beautiful Miss Vance. Looks like love has made our golden boy’s hands unsteady.” I risked a glance in Brook’s direction and found myself caught in the pull of his dark, intense gaze. I immediately snapped my head back down, pretending to adjust a club. A low chuckle escaped his lips. “My hands are definitely unsteady,” he said, his voice smooth as silk but laced with ice. “But it might not be love. It could be rage.” A chill went down my spine. Did he recognize me? No, he couldn’t have. He’d shown no sign of it. I glanced at Maggie, who was laughing and chatting with her friends. Maybe the great Brook Tyler was just sulking because he wasn’t the center of attention. His friends, sensing the shift in mood, quickly dropped the teasing and went back to their game. 7 When the game finally ended, I helped Maggie pack up her clubs. As I was going through the inventory with her, she claimed one was missing. A limited edition, she said. Worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. More money than I could ever dream of repaying. I tried to explain, my voice shaking, but she immediately called for the manager. As a VIP member, her word was law. The manager stormed over and, without even asking what happened, turned on me. “Are you an idiot? Do you have any idea how much that club is worth?” he screeched. “We could sell you and not make enough to cover it!” Then, he plastered on a fawning smile for Maggie. “Miss Vance, she’s new, she doesn’t know any better. How about I fire her on the spot? Would that be acceptable?” Panic clawed at my throat. I had just found this job, a job that could actually support me. I couldn’t lose it. I apologized profusely to Maggie, insisting I hadn’t taken her ridiculously expensive club. But her friends all backed her up. No one believed me. Tears of frustration welled in my eyes. Suddenly, Maggie’s expression shifted. She leaned in close, her voice a venomous whisper in my ear. “Ava Zhou. I never thought I’d see the day.” My body went rigid. She’d known all along. She had pretended not to recognize me just to watch me squirm. She had deliberately dredged up my family’s tragedy in front of her friends. And now, when I was at my most vulnerable, she was accusing me of theft. She knew I couldn’t pay. Faced with her blatant sabotage, I was helpless. All I could do was swallow my pride and keep apologizing. Her friends snickered behind their hands. “What do you expect from the daughter of a deadbeat? The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” Their baseless accusations rained down on me, and I could do nothing but stand there and take it. Brook stood beside Maggie, his face an unreadable mask of cold indifference. Did he think I was a thief, too? A wave of profound injustice washed over me, and the tears I’d been holding back finally fell. If my parents were still here, would any of this be happening? What was I supposed to do now? Life was already crushing me. Without this job, I might literally starve. “Why don’t you get on your knees for me,” Maggie said, her voice dripping with condescension. “Kowtow three times, and we’ll call it even.” The manager shot me a desperate look. “Ava, just do as Miss Vance says! We can’t afford to offend a VIP!” I had no choice. I closed my eyes in despair. If kneeling would let me keep this job, then I would kneel. I bent my knees, preparing to drop to the ground, when a strong hand clamped around my arm, pulling me up. The familiar gourmand scent of coconut and almond filled the air. “If I recall correctly,” a low voice drawled, “we abolished serfdom a while ago. The era of forcing people to their knees is over, isn’t it?” My heart stuttered. That voice… I turned my head and looked directly into a pair of deep, fathomless eyes. It was Brook.

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My childhood best friend was bright and cheerful, like the sun itself. Even his rejection was swift and absolute, leaving no room for daydreams. He’d introduce me to his friends, for example. And I’d see a boy hiding behind a column, peeking out at me with half a face. As someone who’s a sucker for a pretty face, I thought, Well, he’s not bad. After the gloomy introvert started dating me, he began to shine. And the golden boy, my sun, went mad with jealousy. He got completely wasted, clutching the hem of my shirt, his eyes red-rimmed. “You want… me.” And then I saw the other boy, the one hiding behind the column, his knuckles white around a golf club. As someone who’d rather not end up on a true-crime podcast, I thought, Absolutely not. 1. “I like you.” I confessed to my childhood best friend, Greg. He froze for a second, then burst out laughing as if I’d told the funniest joke in the world, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Is this a ‘try not to laugh’ challenge? Not bad.” But when his gaze met mine, the laughter died on his lips. I watched his expression carefully, waiting for his answer, trying my best to convey the depth of my feelings. “We’ve known each other since we were kids, and I’ve always had a crush on you,” I said, my voice earnest. “I just… wanted you to know.” Greg fell silent, his dark eyes fixed on me. I looked down, my palms slick with sweat. Then, I heard his teasing voice from above me. “Chloe, don’t mess with me.” He reached out and gently flicked my forehead. “I always thought of myself as your big brother.” I looked up at him. The usual warmth in his eyes had been replaced by something dimmer, more serious. He lowered his voice. “Chloe, I’m not as great as you think I am. You’ve had me around your whole life, and you don’t really have any other close guy friends. That’s why you think I’m special.” I opened my mouth to argue. “But—” He cut me off instantly. “Besides, you’re not really my type.” His tone was light, almost joking, but the finality in it was unmistakable. He took a small step back, creating a little distance between us, and flashed a carefree smile. “We’re better off as friends.” A summer breeze blew past, drying the sweat on my skin and leaving me feeling cold. The walk home had never felt so long. I remember shamelessly crying the whole way. Greg followed behind me. But he never once stepped forward to offer a word of comfort. 2. When I got home, a text from him was waiting. Greg: Chlo, I don’t want to lie to you or lead you on. Greg: We’re great as friends. I just can’t see us as anything more. Greg and I grew up together. He was the cheerful type, always smiling, revealing two small canine teeth when he did. In elementary school, we were the two chubby kids. During jump rope, we were always the ones stuck holding the ends for everyone else. Two outcasts from different classes, we found each other. We did homework together, shared snacks. But in middle school, he started to change. He joined the swim team and quickly shed all his baby fat. By the time we got to high school, the gap between us was a chasm. I was the slightly overweight girl with black-framed glasses who loved video games. Greg was the helpful class president, the handsome, tall campus heartthrob, the straight-A student. His circle of friends exploded. The moment class was out, a crowd would form around him. Guys wanted him for basketball, calling him an all-star. Girls, like me, either had secret crushes on him or shipped him with someone else. Any task a teacher gave him, he’d rally a group of classmates and get it done in no time. Everyone trusted him. I never saw him lose his temper. He was like the sun in everyone’s sky. I thought we would drift apart, but he still treated me as his friend. Every day after school, he’d call out for me to walk home with him. He’d sling my heavy backpack over his shoulder as if it weighed nothing, then turn to me. “Mocha fudge or a chocolate crunch?” “Mocha fudge.” We’d walk side-by-side, each with an ice cream bar. After we finished, we’d talk about our day, the setting sun chasing our shadows. I’d sneak glances at his handsome profile. He was like a sudden gust of wind, sending ripples across the calm lake of my heart. Everyone in our class knew we were childhood friends. But no one ever teased us about it. It was like one of those teen movies: the handsome hero, the bubbly popular girl, and the nerdy, funny sidekick. I managed to be two of those things—the nerdy, slightly chubby, funny sidekick. Sigh. Whatever. Time to boot up Baldur’s Gate. 3. Getting rejected was so awkward. Thankfully, I’d confessed on a Friday, giving me the weekend to recover. Since Greg and I lived in the same apartment building, we often did homework together. But the cringe was too strong, so I didn’t reach out. For a whole week, I avoided him, bolting like a rabbit the second the final bell rang. He must have sensed my distance. He texted me that night. Greg: Chlo, you’re not seriously ignoring me because of that, are you…? Greg: We’re still best friends, right? Greg: Remember what I said about you not having enough guy friends? I have a good friend who’s a lot like you, loves gaming. Maybe you two should meet…? With that, Greg sent me a contact card. The profile picture was a brooding anime character. Greg: His name is Matthew. He’s in the class next door. The boy I liked was setting me up with someone else, decisively crushing my last glimmer of hope. I thought for a moment, then typed back. McNuggetLover: It’s fine, you don’t have to push people on me. Let’s just be friends, like you said. Greg: O(∩_∩)O You’ll always be my best friend, Chlo. I figured Greg just wasn’t interested in dating. The sun, after all, belongs in the sky, not plucked down for one person. Friends it is. We went back to normal. As class president, Greg was always busy. He’d usually ask me to help with things like the classroom bulletin board because I had neat handwriting. One day after school, we stayed behind to work on it. He sketched while I stood on a stool, writing. “Hey, Chlo,” he said, looking over. “Did you add Matthew yet?” “Nah,” I said casually. “I think having one guy friend is enough. Don’t really need to expand my roster.” After I said that, I glanced down. I saw Greg duck his head, a smile spreading across his lips. He was trying to suppress it, but his eyes gave him away, shining with a sweet, secret delight, like a kid who’d just snuck a piece of candy. 4. What was so funny? I was the one who got rejected; I was allowed to be a little bitter. I went back to writing on the board. One by one, our classmates filed out. But then Bianca, a girl from our class, stumbled past Greg, crashing hard into the stool I was standing on. I lost my balance and tumbled to the floor. A sharp pain shot through my ankle, and I let out a muffled groan. Greg immediately dropped his chalk and rushed to my side. But just as he was about to check on me, Bianca’s sobs filled the quiet classroom. She was crumpled on the floor, tears streaming down her face. “Greg… my cramps… they’re killing me.” She looked at me, her eyes wide. “I didn’t mean to knock you over, Chloe. Please don’t be mad at me.” If Greg was the king of the guys, Bianca was the queen of the girls. She was like the head cheerleader in a teen movie, complete with a little posse. She always wore glossy lipstick and would let her hair down the second the teacher wasn’t looking. Tall and thin, she looked like a mini-influencer. To be honest, as a freshman, I was kind of scared of her. Like I would ever dare be mad at her. Nerds like me steer clear of the popular kids. “Greg, can you take me to the nurse’s office?” Bianca asked, looking up at him with shimmering eyes. “I’ll take you,” he said grimly, then turned to me. “Chloe, could you finish up the board for me?” I rubbed my swollen ankle and forced a smile. “My ankle’s twisted. I think I need to go to the clinic, too.” Greg looked at me, a flicker of conflict in his amber eyes. “Chloe, can you manage…?” Before he could finish, Bianca let out another pained moan, clutching her stomach. “It hurts… Greg, it hurts so much.” “Bianca seems to be in worse shape,” Greg said, his brow furrowed with apology. He clearly meant he had to help the person who needed it more. “Let me borrow your scooter keys,” he said, already reaching for my pencil case, where he knew I kept them. He’d given me the little lamb keychain attached to it. He grabbed the keys, scooped Bianca up into his arms, and strode out of the classroom. At the doorway, he paused and looked back at me. His expression, usually so calm, was now intense and resolute. “Don’t worry, Chloe. I’ll come back for you as soon as I get her to the clinic.” The light pouring through the window silhouetted his strong frame. He looked me straight in the eye. “Trust me.” 5. The sky slowly darkened. The only sound in the silent classroom was the ticking of the clock. Then, the pitter-patter of rain began outside. Two hours had passed. Greg hadn’t come back. We weren’t allowed to have our phones in high school, so there was no way to contact him. But years of friendship made me stubbornly hold on to my trust in him. I was afraid that if I left, he’d come back and worry when he couldn’t find me. The rain grew heavier, drumming against the roof of the bike shed outside. A clap of thunder echoed across the sky. The downpour had begun. I stared out the window, replaying the image of Bianca’s arms wrapped around his neck. Replaying his words: You’re not my type. Replaying the sight of him carrying her, the tall, handsome boy and the petite, pretty girl. A classic pairing. A cold certainty bloomed in my heart. He wasn’t coming back. When I tried to stand, a searing pain shot up from my ankle. I leaned against the wall, hobbling into the hallway. The sound of the rain was deafening. In the empty school, my shadow was my only companion. “Do you… need help?” A voice from the shadows startled me so badly I almost fell again. A tall, thin boy peeked out from behind a pillar, his messy bangs nearly covering his eyes. He was clutching a long, black umbrella, his knuckles white from the force of his grip. “I-I’m from the class next door…” he explained in a small voice. He kept his eyes on the floor, only darting a quick glance at me now and then. His eyes were unfairly beautiful, like obsidian veiled in mist. “Thanks, but I’m okay,” I said, instinctively taking a step back. A torrential downpour, a beautiful boy with his eyes hidden, a black umbrella… it all felt a little supernatural. The boy immediately shrank back behind the pillar, leaving only his pale, umbrella-gripping hand visible. As I painstakingly made my way to the stairs, I heard a soft shuffling sound behind me. He was following me, maintaining a distance of about ten feet. This was terrifying. I was about to tap into my primal survival instincts and make a run for it when I heard his voice again. “Your foot looks hurt. Let me take you to the clinic…” “I’m really a student here. My name is Matthew. I was just on my way back from the library.” Matthew. That was the name of the friend Greg had wanted me to meet. “And how are you going to help me?” I asked, stopping to look back at him. His eyes lit up as if I’d just given him a prize. He quickly walked over, handed me the umbrella, then turned his back to me and bent down. “I… I can carry you.” I looked at his slender back and thought about my own 130-pound frame. Are you sure, dude? I might break you. I asked him again if he was sure. As if to prove his strength, he suddenly turned and scooped me up into his arms. And plunged headfirst into the pouring rain. 6. When I got home, I turned on my phone. It buzzed with a few notifications from Greg. Greg: Bianca’s a single-parent kid, her mom’s never around. I had to stay with her at the hospital. You go on home. Greg: Be safe. I’ll bring you breakfast tomorrow to make it up to you. [Cute Cat Emoji] I stared at the emoji for a moment, then closed the chat without replying. I found the contact card with the brooding anime profile picture and sent a friend request. A second later, a notification popped up. He’d accepted immediately. 7. The next day, Greg ran into the classroom carrying soy milk and fried pancakes. He made a beeline for my desk and placed the breakfast down, along with my scooter keys and their little lamb keychain. He pressed his hands together and bowed repeatedly. “I’m so, so sorry, Chloe. It was an emergency yesterday.” I kept my head down, organizing my books, ignoring him. Greg raised his voice. “You can hit me a few times if it’ll make you feel better.” He grabbed my arm. I yanked it away, and he let out a dramatic “Oof!” and fell over. I flinched and looked up instinctively. He was sitting on the floor, propped up on his hands, with a random worksheet now covering his head. He looked up at me, a playful glint in his amber eyes. But his smile quickly faded when he saw me pull a black metal lunchbox from my bag. It had Matthew’s name and class number printed on it. I opened it. Inside were three plump sandwiches, each wrapper decorated with a cartoon penguin sticker. There was also a note from Matthew, written in beautiful handwriting. You got caught in the rain yesterday, so you might be feeling weak. I made you breakfast. I wasn’t sure which flavor you’d like, so I made three. I looked up at Greg and gave him an apologetic smile. “I already have breakfast, so I won’t be needing yours! Sorry.” Greg ripped the worksheet off his head and nodded, a bright smile still plastered on his face. But I heard the soft, crisp sound of paper being crumpled tightly in his fist. Wait a second—that was my literature worksheet. We had literature class next. Dude, now I’m even more pissed at you. 8. Because Greg had abandoned me, crumpled my worksheet, rejected my confession, and then tried to set me up with someone else, I was officially holding a grudge. I had no desire to talk to him. Meanwhile, Matthew and I started getting to know each other. I discovered we had a ton in common. We both loved playing games on Steam. The summer break had just started, so we teamed up in Stardew Valley. We stayed up all night for a week straight, completely lost in the game. Who was Greg? I’d long forgotten. Every morning, I’d wake up with a single thought: Time to hit the mines. And Matthew would be there, quietly farming, fishing, and preparing food for my mining expeditions—Spicy Eel, Cheese, Crispy Bass—all neatly arranged in a storage chest, with a thoughtful stack of bombs and staircases right beside it. His character would always be standing silently at the farm entrance, waiting for me to log on. Then a message would pop up: There’s stuff in the chest for you. You can go straight to the mines. If I was late, he would just wait. Only when I appeared would he add, Caught an eel today. I can make you a meal. I couldn’t help but ask him, “Matthew, why do you always have everything ready before you say anything?” On the other end, he was silent for a few seconds. I could hear his soft breathing through the mic as he chose his words. “…My family taught me to always present results when I speak.” I learned that Matthew’s parents were both entrepreneurs, too busy to spend time with him. Their conversations were always short and efficient. How are your recent grades? Did you pass your piano exam? Are the results from the coding competition out yet? Every sentence had to be packed with information. Every exchange had to have a purpose. Over time, Matthew had developed a habit: he didn’t dare make small talk, didn’t dare chat idly, didn’t even dare to laugh without a reason. As a girl from a normal family, I couldn’t understand it. My heart ached for him, and I instinctively tried to comfort him. “Matthew, you can talk to me anytime. You can talk trash, talk nonsense. Every sentence doesn’t have to mean something or have a point. Friends can just talk, you know? It doesn’t always have to be useful.” On the screen, Matthew’s character suddenly froze in the middle of the farm, as if someone had hit the pause button. After a long moment, a low chuckle came through my headphones. It was tentative, as if he was finally letting out a breath he’d been holding. “Hehe…?” I blinked. “What?” “Haha,” he added, his voice as light as a feather brushing against my ear, the end of the sound lilting upwards with a touch of unpracticed joy. I couldn’t help but smile. “What are you doing?” “Talking nonsense,” he said, a hint of glee in his voice. “…Playing games with you is really fun.” His voice was low and a little raspy, like a kitten finally daring to extend its claws to gently touch someone it trusts. It was clumsy and eager—and impossibly gentle. 9. In Stardew Valley, there’s a festival called the Flower Dance where you can ask someone you like to dance with you. I had been so busy farming that none of the NPCs had ever agreed to dance with me. This time, when the festival arrived, the cheerful music filled the town square as the pixelated characters swayed in their festive outfits. I ran my character around aimlessly while Matthew’s stood quietly to the side. I thought he was antsy to get back to farming. “This game has so many festivals,” I said, trying to console him. “It’s such a waste of good farming time.” I heard the soft click of his keyboard. After a moment, he suddenly asked, “Why don’t you ask Alex to dance…?” “Huh?” I was taken aback. Alex was one of the jock-type characters in the game. “I thought you would like his type,” Matthew said, his voice even but with an underlying tension. “I put a lot of gifts for him in the chest. You should have enough friendship points to invite him now.” I blinked, and then it hit me—he thought I liked Alex. The realization left a strange, sour taste in my mouth. I moved my character in front of his and clicked “Invite to Dance.” “Matthew, I want to dance with you.” The other end went silent. A few seconds later, his character slowly extended a hand and accepted. The two little pixel people spun clumsily in a circle, swaying to the music. I smiled. “And for the record, I don’t like Alex.” “Then… who do you like?” he asked softly. “Sebastian,” I teased. “He’s cold and gloomy on the outside, but gentle on the inside. It’s super cute.” —But I’m starting to like you a little. The words lingered on my tongue, but I didn’t say them out loud. That whole summer, we played Stardew Valley, Don’t Starve, we beat It Takes Two, we played League of Legends, Identity V, Valorant. I really, really love gaming. But by the end of it all, I realized it wasn’t just the games that were fun. It was us. So, in the end, we returned to Stardew Valley. We sat side-by-side on the pier, fishing as the pixelated rain fell on the lake. Fishing in this game was so boring; I had no idea how Matthew did it for hours on end, just to make me food. I chattered on beside him. “School’s about to start. I’ll have to study and won’t have time for games.” He was quiet for a long time. “Why aren’t you saying anything?” I asked. His voice came through the headset, sounding a bit muffled. “After school starts… I’ll take good care of your farm.” He paused, then said, as if it took all his courage, “You can come visit me on the farm when you’re not busy.” My phone buzzed. It was a picture. My eyes widened. “Holy crap!!!” It was a picture of Matthew cosplaying as Sebastian. A black wig partially covered his eyes, accentuating his high nose bridge and pale lips. He had perfectly captured the character’s gloomy, distant aura. He was in a professional studio, the light hitting his porcelain skin. He looked like he’d walked straight out of the game. His voice came through, small and hesitant. “You can just… pretend you’re looking at Sebastian.” “This is amazing! When did you take this?!” I was speechless. His voice was nervous. “Last week… you said you liked Sebastian, so I…” He didn’t finish, but I understood. He was afraid I’d ignore him once school started, so he did this to “keep me.” I couldn’t help but smile. “We can have lunch together every day after school starts,” I reassured him. “I can make you breakfast! Sandwiches, homemade burgers, rice balls, omelets, I can make anything!” he immediately replied, his words tumbling out in an uncharacteristic rush. “I can go home and make lunch, too. Whatever you want to eat…” “Whoa, whoa, stop!” I cut him off. “You’re my friend, not my personal chef!” He was silent for a moment, then I heard him whisper, so softly I almost missed it: “…I want to be.” Those three words, light as a feather, made the tips of my ears burn. As a certified admirer of handsome faces, I zoomed in on the cosplay photo again and again. This face was made for cosplay. A wicked idea popped into my head. “Master!” I said, raising my voice dramatically. “Could you please, please cosplay as Scaramouche? Or Xiao? I’m begging you! This is very important to me!” “…” “Matthew?” “If you insist…” he replied, his voice still a bit muffled, but I could have sworn I heard a faint chuckle.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “385135”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

After the school’s most popular girl rejected him, the resident bad boy, Ace, threw a tantrum in the middle of the classroom, making it rain cash to vent his frustration. A lot of kids scrambled to pick it up. My vision was blurry from hunger, so I joined in. But the moment I snatched a crisp bill from the floor, a translucent screen flickered into existence before my eyes. 【Who’s this extra? Doesn’t she know everyone picking up the money is the second male lead’s friend?】 【LOL, he’s just putting on a show for the female lead. He didn’t think anyone would actually take it seriously.】 I clutched the bill, my face burning with shame as I looked up. Sure enough, every eye in the room was on me. Just then, the popular girl, Alice, appeared at the classroom door. In a fit of pique, Ace shoved the rest of the cash into my hands. “From now on, my allowance is all yours.” 1 I stared dumbly at the wad of bills in my hand, barely registering Ace’s words. All I could think was that this was enough money to feed me for a very, very long time. Ever since my dad passed away and my mom remarried, I was the kid nobody wanted. My grandma had stepped up, taking on the burden of raising me. But she was old and frail, barely able to support herself, let alone the two of us. Lately, her vision had gotten worse, and the scrap materials she collected to sell were dwindling. To ease her burden, I rarely ate at school, often going home with a painfully empty stomach. Right now, I was more inclined to believe I was hallucinating from hunger. Ace must have been waiting for a response. He frowned slightly and reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. The other students started hooting and catcalling. At the door, Alice saw the scene, turned on her heel, and walked away. 【Sigh, the female lead came back to give him another chance, but he had to pull this stunt.】 【If the second male lead gets the girl this early, what’s the male lead supposed to do?】 【Well, at least this little extra gets something out of it.】 It was then that I realized I was a cannon fodder character in a novel where the second male lead eventually wins the girl. Ace was acting out purely because his pride had been wounded. But none of that mattered to me. All I wanted was a full stomach. “Is this… all really for me?” I asked, my voice trembling. Ace waved a dismissive hand, his mind clearly elsewhere. “Take it. If it’s not enough, just ask for more.” “Thank you.” I clutched the money and walked back to my seat, my world completely changed. I immediately started calculating how to best use this windfall. Grandma’s diabetes medication had run out. If she didn’t get a refill, the complications would be serious. Her shoes had holes in them, and we were out of rice at home… After a quick mental calculation, I figured I’d have about three hundred dollars left for my own meals. I didn’t eat much, so it would have to last. At lunch, I ordered a bowl of plain noodles from the cafeteria. After a moment’s thought, I splurged on a marinated egg. I’d only taken a few bites when I heard someone mention Ace’s name. 2 “Yeah, over by the basketball court. Looks like a fight’s about to break out.” “Let’s go, let’s go! We can’t miss this!” I grabbed a classmate’s arm and asked what was happening. It turned out that right after rejecting Ace, Alice had started dating a notorious rich kid. Ace, furious, had gone to confront him. The pop-up screens had already given me the gist of the plot. Ace was the second male lead. He would only get his chance with the heroine after the main male lead had broken her heart. According to the current timeline, that was a long way off. Still, he had helped me. Worried he might get into trouble, I followed the crowd. From a distance, I could see Ace facing off against another guy. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife; a fight could start at any second. And, of course, that’s when Alice arrived. Without a word, she walked straight up to Ace and stood between him and the other boy. “Can you just stop it? I told you, I don’t like you.” A dark cloud passed over Ace’s eyes. Just as everyone was waiting to see him make a fool of himself, he looked up, and his gaze met mine. “Come here.” He crooked a finger at me. I didn’t understand, but I did as he said. He slung an arm around my shoulders and raised an eyebrow at Alice. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’ve already got someone I like.” Then he leaned in and whispered in my ear, “Just play along. I’ll treat you to a feast later.” The word “feast” made my eyes light up. I could already see roast chicken, Peking duck, and grilled steak waving at me. Lost in a daydream of food, I completely missed the strange looks on everyone else’s faces. Seeing how close Ace and I were, Alice took the rich kid’s hand. “I hope so.” After the crowd dispersed, Ace let go of me, looking a little dejected. But I was too preoccupied with the unfinished bowl of noodles waiting for me in the cafeteria to notice. My stomach chose that moment to let out a loud, embarrassing grumble. Ace’s gaze dropped to my stomach, and he scratched his head. “Come on. Let’s go eat.” He was true to his word. He treated me to a real feast. I was so hungry that I stuffed my face, my cheeks puffed out like a squirrel’s. Ace stared at me, his eyes wide with shock. “Lily, how long has it been since you’ve eaten?” I counted on my fingers. “Not that long. I’ve only skipped lunch for about twenty days.” He looked even more shocked. “How are you still alive?” I swallowed the food in my mouth and sniffled. “You don’t actually need that much food to survive. Sometimes, a little porridge or just water is enough.” Ace suddenly fell silent. 3 After the meal, I looked at the plate of steamed ribs with taro, which was mostly untouched. I asked hesitantly, “Can… can I get this to go?” Ace blinked, then nodded. “Of course.” He probably sensed my awkwardness because he called the waiter over himself to pack it up for me. Outside the restaurant, I held the takeout box and said goodbye. “Thanks for the meal. It was delicious. If you ever have another opportunity like this, please think of me.” The corner of Ace’s mouth twitched. “Be careful on your way home,” he said. As I turned to leave, I couldn’t help but smile. My world now had another good person in it. Besides my grandma, there was Ace. They were the only two people who had ever been willing to feed me. It felt so good to have a full stomach. But the pop-up screens were full of mockery. 【Does Lily really think Ace is interested in her?】 【Please, he’s the devoted second male lead. As soon as he graduates, he’s going to follow the female lead to the same university in the same city.】 【He wouldn’t have even noticed a cannon fodder character like Lily if he wasn’t trying to get the female lead’s attention.】 For a moment, I felt a pang of envy for Alice. She was from a good family, she was beautiful, and so many people liked her. Unlike me. I had nothing to offer. I wasn’t particularly smart or worldly, and no matter how hard I studied, I was always just stuck in the middle. Like most people, I was just ordinary, as common as dust. It fit the role of a cannon fodder character perfectly. But I wasn’t going to give up. Everyone has their own path to walk. I believed that one day, I would have a good life too. Just look at today. This morning, I was worried about how I would get through the day on an empty stomach, and now I was full. As for Ace, I had known from the start that he came from a powerful family. Whenever he got into trouble at school, a call from home would make it all go away. That’s why he could do whatever he wanted. He was never afraid to stand up for what he believed in. In three years of high school, almost no one dared to cross him. His only failure was Alice. How could I ever dare to have any other ideas about someone like him? 4 Thanks to Ace, I was able to buy my grandma’s medicine, and her vision improved a lot. I had it all planned out. When I got to college, I would work part-time while studying, so she wouldn’t have to work so hard. The final year of high school was intense. It seemed like my interactions with Ace had come to an end. Until the fifteenth of the next month, when he found me, looking mysterious. He pressed a stack of bills into my hand. “My allowance for this month. It’s for you.” I froze, vaguely remembering what he had said before. But we were practically strangers. I couldn’t just take his money because of something he said in a fit of anger. I tried to give it back. “I’d forgotten all about that. You don’t have to give me your money.” But Ace got agitated. “No way. I always keep my word.” He shoved the money back into my hand. “But if you give it all to me, what will you do?” He waved his hand grandly. “Don’t underestimate me. I’ve got a supplementary card from my dad that I can use anytime. You just take this.” He probably said it to stop me from refusing again, because he turned and left right after. “Ace…” I watched him go, a mix of emotions swirling inside me. A guy like him didn’t need to keep a promise like that to someone like me. Maybe he saw how poor I was and felt sorry for me. Whatever the reason, I was grateful. Without him, I would probably still be drooling over pictures of food in textbooks. I counted the money. It was a full five thousand dollars. More than my grandma and I lived on in a year. I didn’t dare to spend it recklessly. I put it all aside, only using it for daily necessities. After that, I was never hungry again. I ate in the cafeteria every day. With a full stomach, I had more energy, and even studying didn’t seem so tiring. But for the past few days, I hadn’t seen Ace. He skipped class sometimes, but never for this many days in a row. The pop-up screens appeared right on cue. 【See? Ace can’t get over the female lead. She just posted one selfie with the male lead, and Ace couldn’t take it. He’s been locked up in a hotel room ever since.】 【His family found out he’s been skipping school. To punish him, they’ve cut off his cards. He’s about to starve.】 【If he hadn’t given all his money to that Lily girl, he wouldn’t be penniless right now.】 How could this be happening? 5 Worried, I went to the hotel mentioned on the screen. And just my luck, I arrived just as Ace was being kicked out for not being able to pay. When he saw me, he tried to act cool. “The service at this hotel is terrible. I’m finding a new one.” “Ace,” I called out to him. “Why haven’t you been in school?” He grinned. “The knowledge is already in my head. School’s boring.” Then his tone shifted. “By the way, what are you doing here?” “Oh, I was just on my way home. This is on my way.” “Right. Well, you should get going then.” He waved at me. But I didn’t leave. “I know a new place that has really good durian pizza. Want to go try it?” Ace subconsciously touched his stomach. After a long pause, he nodded. I ordered two pizzas and pushed them both in front of him. He didn’t say anything, just started eating. He had very good manners, very refined. No wonder he was so shocked the first time he saw me eat. After a while, he stopped. He had just realized that I had been watching him the whole time. “Why aren’t you eating?” “I’m not hungry.” A flicker of sadness crossed his face. “Lily, you’re lying.” I froze. “I’m not. I’m really not hungry.” “You are. You can’t survive on just water and porridge. I only missed one meal, and I couldn’t stand it.” Oh, that’s what he was talking about. But it was true. A small amount of rice could make a large pot of porridge. It didn’t keep you full for long, but at least it filled your stomach. And you could buy a huge bundle of loose noodles for just a few dollars, enough to feed my grandma and me for days. As for nutritional value… for poor people, just being alive was enough. I fidgeted with the hem of my school uniform. “I guess I’m just used to it. I have a small stomach.” Ace looked at me and said, out of the blue, “I always wondered why everyone else’s uniform fits, but yours is so big.” “Lily, from now on, let’s both eat properly.” Yes. Eat properly. A full meal. That had always been my biggest dream. 6 Ace and I made a pact to eat together in the cafeteria every day. After a few times, I realized we were surprisingly compatible. He liked the yolks of eggs, and I liked the whites. In chicken curry, he would pick out all the potatoes, leaving me with all the chicken, which I loved. He liked the skins of dumplings but not the filling, so he would always push a bowl of filling over to me. I thought there couldn’t be a better eating companion in the world than Ace. At first, I asked him if he was doing it on purpose, just to be nice. But he denied it vehemently. “I’ve always eaten like this. Can’t a guy have his own quirks?” Of course, he could. Just like I’ve always loved meat. When my dad was still alive, I had a few happy years. There was always more meat than vegetables on our dinner table. Then he got sick, and all our money went to his medical bills. Even then, my mom would at least make sure I had one meat dish. But he still passed away. A couple of years later, my mom found someone new. She promised she would come back for me once she was settled. But I waited and waited, and all I got was the news that she had a new son. Those happy times were gone forever. Before I met Ace, I couldn’t remember the last time I had eaten meat. Now, because of him, I had actually gained a little weight. My grandma noticed, but every time she asked, I just said I earned the money by doing homework for my classmates. She didn’t know much about kids these days, so she believed whatever I said. After lunch, Ace and I were about to head back when we ran into Alice. She was alone. 7 【Sigh, the female lead just had a fight with the male lead. She’s already in a bad mood, and now she sees Ace laughing with someone else. She must be even more upset.】 【The female lead actually likes Ace too, she just can’t handle being with two guys at once.】 【Ace, hurry up and comfort her! In the end, you’re the one she chooses!】 I watched the screens dispassionately as Alice walked up to us. She looked up, her eyes glistening with tears. “Ace, can we talk?” It had been a while since Ace’s failed confession. I didn’t expect Alice to seek him out herself. He must be so happy. I couldn’t help but look at his expression. But he was looking at me. He probably felt bad about just leaving me. “Go ahead,” I said quickly. “I’ll head back to class.” “Lily!” Ace said through gritted teeth. “I thought we were going to get bubble tea.” At a time like this, how could he still be thinking about bubble tea? Even I, who had never been in a relationship, knew that this was the moment to seize the opportunity and win Alice over from the male lead. Girlfriend or bubble tea? It shouldn’t be a difficult choice. I gave him a look that said, you idiot. “But Alice came all this way to find you. Maybe you two had a misunderstanding. This is the perfect chance to clear the air.” I thought I had been obvious enough. But Ace seemed to not get it. He put his arm around me again, right in front of Alice. “Sorry, I don’t think we have anything to talk about.” At his words, a tear rolled down Alice’s cheek. She looked at his hand on my shoulder, her expression full of hurt. “But you said you would always like me, whether I liked you back or not. I don’t believe you’ve moved on this quickly. You’re still mad at me, aren’t you? How long are you going to keep this up?” 【LOL, the female lead sees right through him.】 【The second male lead is just putting on a tough act. He’s dying on the inside, but he has to pretend he doesn’t care.】 【It’s fine, a little drama makes it spicier. When they finally get together, it’ll be so good.】 Ace’s hand on my shoulder tightened. I winced but didn’t say anything. He still cared about her, but his words were merciless. “I told you, don’t flatter yourself. You had the right to reject me, and I have the right to move on. Alice, since you’ve already chosen someone else, you shouldn’t come back with regrets.”

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The man I loved fell in love with someone else while trying to bring me back to life. When I woke up, Ethan asked me what I wanted. I was about to say I wanted to finish our wedding, but then, lines of text flooded my vision. *“Omg the male lead is so devoted, he’s a literal god but he still hasn’t forgotten about resurrecting his mortal side-character ex.”* *“The side character is so shameless. She just got brought back to life and she’s already demanding a title? Our girl has been with him through thick and thin for a million years!”* *“Whatever, she’ll just get taken back to the heavens, act like a brat, and get ignored. That’s when the male lead will finally realize our girl is his one true love!”* I thought for a moment, then replied, “I want a divorce.” 1 Ethan froze. He looked almost exactly as he had the day I died, only even more handsome, more ethereal. “Rose, are you joking?” he asked, his voice cracking with disbelief. *“The competitive female side character wants a divorce? That makes no sense!”* *“This old hag is definitely just threatening him to get what she wants. So pathetic! Why would the author write such a trashy character?”* *“Just wait, our girl is about to show up with their kid. Let’s see how this plays out for the side character!”* The words scrolling through my mind were vile. Apparently, I was seeing the live comments from a webnovel called *The CEO’s Rebellious Darling: Heaven’s Emperor, Please Be Gentle.* Ethan was the male lead, a talented but aloof and arrogant prodigy. I was the “white moonlight” ex-wife he was trying to save, the one who had died protecting him from a divine trial. To bring me back, he had embarked on a cultivation journey with the female lead, a half-demon, half-immortal named Lily. They were a classic enemies-to-lovers pair, supporting and growing with each other over nearly a million years. Lily confessed her love for him multiple times, but Ethan, with me still in his heart, always refused her. Until, during a particularly difficult trial, he couldn’t break through his cultivation bottleneck. So he slept with her. She got pregnant. Twice. Their first was a daughter. Now she was pregnant with their son. And me? After being resurrected, my personality would supposedly take a dark turn. I would become jealous and petty, constantly fighting with Lily in the celestial court. I would even frame her for things, causing her to have a miscarriage. Ethan would come to despise me, and the next time I acted out, he would destroy me with a single blast of divine energy. My soul, scattered to the winds. What a joke. 2 “Ethie-bear! Rose must still be groggy from her million-year nap. After all, she’s still just a mortal, her human body is so frail. Why don’t you let her rest here in the celestial court for a while?” A fairy in flowing red robes floated toward us on a cloud. Her belly was slightly swollen, and a miniature version of herself stood beside her. “Daddy-bear! Up!” The little girl, munching on a candy apple, ran straight for Ethan. “Lily-bug, I thought we agreed, no more candy until your new teeth come in,” Ethan said, his hand, which had been holding mine, automatically reaching out to scoop the child into his arms. *“There it is! The pet names! Ethie-bear and Lily-bug! Even their daughter calls him that, so cute! He’s a god but he still lets them call him that. This little family is everything!”* *“Is someone feeling a little…extra? I’m not naming names.”* *“Our girl is too sweet, offering to let the side character stay in the celestial court! It’s so sad she doesn’t know what’s coming.”* I bit my lip and tried, “My love.” Ethan didn’t react. He was too busy bantering with Lily. “My love!” I said, louder this time. That finally got his attention. He put the child down and knelt before me, pulling a box of celestial pills from his sleeve. He had the same shy look on his face I remembered from when we were young. “Rose, I’m sorry. It’s been so long since anyone called me that. Let me introduce you. This is Lily, my partner on my cultivation journey. When she said your mortal body was frail, she didn’t mean it as an insult. Human bodies are just… fragile.” “So… tonight, I’ll personally transfer my cultivation to you. Then you can become an immortal, just like me, and we’ll never have to be apart again.” I pointed to the mother and daughter. “She has your daughter, she’s carrying your child, and you’re telling me, in front of her, that you and I will never be apart?” As expected, Lily’s eyes welled up. The little girl started hitting me with her tiny fists. “You bad woman! You made my mommy cry! Apologize to my mommy!” *“The side character is playing the innocent victim now? There, there, Lily-bug, don’t cry.”* *“If the side character wants a divorce so bad, she should just leave. She can jump from the God-Slaying Terrace and go back to the mortal world.”* *“She’s just saying that. That bitch would never give up the wealth of the heavens and the promise of eternal life.”* As I turned to leave, Ethan grabbed my arm, and at the same time, grabbed Lily’s as she was about to turn away. “Rose, where are you going?” “To the God-Slaying Terrace. I told you, my wish is to divorce you.” He frowned, confused. “Just because Lily and I have children? Are you really that petty?” *Was I petty?* My husband had fallen in love with another woman while trying to resurrect me. Wasn’t I allowed to be angry? “Let me go.” I didn’t want to be the vicious person the comments described. Leaving was my only choice. He did let go. He let go of Lily’s hand and wrapped his arms around me from behind, holding me tight. “My only goal on this journey was to bring you back. Without you, nothing I’ve done has any meaning.” My own eyes started to tear up. We had been through so much together when we were young. Maybe I should trust my Ethan, not these strange, scrolling words. 3 “Daddy-bear! Mommy’s tummy is bleeding!” Lily was clutching her stomach, her face pale. Ethan let go of me and transferred some of his energy to her to stop the bleeding. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he didn’t push her away, just lifted her into his arms. “Lily is showing signs of premature labor, Rose. I’ll be right back.” She was having his child. It was his duty as a father to be there. I couldn’t just let an innocent baby die. Especially not Ethan’s child. But a selfish part of me thought, *if I hadn’t died, we would have had children. We would have been a normal, happy couple.* “Rose, Lily is just a good friend who happens to be carrying my children. Don’t overthink it. There’s no love between us.” My nails dug into my palms. I swallowed my resentment. “Okay.” 4 Ethan was still worried I would jump from the God-Slaying Terrace. He had me locked in a lavish palace, guarded by hundreds of celestial soldiers. The servants were forbidden to speak to me. I had no way of finding the Terrace, no sense of time passing. *“Omg that was a close one, the side character didn’t do anything and Lily had a healthy baby boy! The male lead said he looks just like him when he was born!”* *“Does anyone else think the side character is looking a little…old?”* *“A day in the heavens is a year on earth. The male lead has been with Lily for fifteen days while she recovers from childbirth. The side character is a thirty-year-old hag now.”* Thirty, an old hag? Ethan and Lily were a million years old, but they still looked like teenagers. I looked in the mirror. There were fine lines around my eyes, and my skin had turned a sallow yellow. I was aging. One day, two days, ten days. I missed my parents. I missed my family. I never got to see my mother’s hair turn gray, never saw my father grow old. I never brought honor to my family. Back then, I was so consumed by Ethan. He needed a special cauldron for his cultivation, and our family was the only one in the region with the knowledge to forge it. No one believed that a cursed, star-crossed boy like him could ever become an immortal. So I knelt in our ancestral hall, bowing until my forehead was bloody, begging my parents, my elders. The only condition they gave was that Ethan had to marry into our family. On our wedding night, a great storm raged. I used my own body to shield him from a divine trial. He broke through to the next stage of cultivation, becoming the most powerful mortal in the land. And I died. How much pain must my parents and my family have felt, seeing me sacrifice myself for a man. It wasn’t worth it. I didn’t understand then. I thought a young boy’s love could last forever. I couldn’t die of old age here. I had to go home. I had to make things right with my family. 5 “Rose, are you still mad at me?” Ethan’s voice was right behind me. I turned, and there he was, bathed in a holy light, more radiant than ever. And I was withering away. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight. “Rose, Lily had a boy. He looks just like me when I was born.” *“The Heaven’s Emperor has a great memory if he can remember what he looked like as a baby.”* He sighed. “Rose, will you call me ‘my love’ again?” I tried to push him away, but he was too strong. “When we were kids, you used to fight off all the bullies for me. Remember, Rose? You, a girl, wrestling with them, getting covered in mud and bruises. You won so many of their fighting crickets that we sold them at the market and bought four bags of sesame candy. We ate so much we just lay on the stone steps and watched the moon.” How could I forget? Under the moonlight, a tiny Ethan had bravely proposed to me. “I, Ethan, will marry Rose in ten years! I will never take another wife, never have a concubine! For this life, and all the lives to come, I will only love Rose! The stars are my witness, the heavens are my judge! If I break this vow…” Little Ethan scratched his head. I was laughing so hard, chewing on my candy, that I fell over. “If you break this vow, you’ll never get to eat sesame candy again!” To a six-year-old Ethan and a five-year-old me, there was no worse fate. “Rose, I’ll give you half of my cultivation. You won’t get old anymore. Please, don’t be mad at me.” The lights suddenly went out. My robes were being untied. Ethan had somehow moved me to the bed. I closed my eyes. The comments flooded my vision again. *“Nooo, he’s going to be tainted!”* *“Poor Lily-bug, all alone with two kids! Author, stop torturing the female lead!”* *“See, I knew the side character couldn’t stand getting old. And she was talking about divorcing him and jumping from the God-Slaying Terrace. She’s so fake.”* A wave of anger washed over me. A normal mortal woman, jumping from the God-Slaying Terrace, with nothing. How was I supposed to survive in a world teeming with gods and demons? How was I supposed to find my family, who had long since been reincarnated? If Ethan was willing to give me his power, why shouldn’t I take it? 6 The next morning, my face was young again. And I could feel a strange power humming within me. It must have been Ethan’s cultivation. He was still asleep, holding me so tightly I could barely move. I tried to sit up. “Lily-bug… stop it…” he murmured in his sleep. When we were making love, he had told me a thousand times that he loved me, only me. But now, in his most unguarded moment, he was thinking of her. *“The side character should open her eyes and see who the male lead really loves in his subconscious!”* *“The side character only spent fifteen years with him. Our Lily spent a million years with him. It’s obvious who he loves more.”* *“The side character thought she could die and become his unforgettable love, then come back and win his heart. Too bad. The one who isn’t loved is the third wheel. The angst is delicious!”* *“When is she going to jump already? I can’t take it anymore.”* I shook my head, but I couldn’t get rid of the comments. So I decided to just lean into it. “In that case, why don’t you tell me where the God-Slaying Terrace is.” 7 The comments exploded. They didn’t seem to know I could see them. *“Is she talking to us?”* *“Is the side character crazy? Or am I crazy? How can she see the comments?”* *“Side character, if you can see this, make a heart shape.”* A heart shape? I didn’t know what that was, but I pointed to my own heart. “Like this?” The comments went silent for a moment, then flooded in, a chaotic torrent. “You guys, slow down, I can’t read this fast,” I said, my head starting to throb. *“Does that mean she saw all the mean things we said about her?”* *“We weren’t wrong, though. She is a bitch.”* *“But she hasn’t done anything evil yet.”* *“I wish our Lily-bug could see this. Why did it have to be the character I hate the most?”* *“Guys, has anyone noticed that the next chapter is gone?!”* *“OMG you’re right, it’s blank! Someone message the author and ask if it’s a bug!”* *“I thought this was a completed novel. I’ve read it a bunch of times.”* *“Does that mean… our comments can change the plot?”* *“Don’t get ahead of yourselves. She’s just a villainous side character.”* Side character or not, I was the protagonist of my own life. “So… can you tell me where the God-Slaying Terrace is now?” 8 Following the comments’ directions, I slipped out of the palace. Ethan’s cultivation allowed me to turn invisible and evade the celestial guards. “This is the God-Slaying Terrace,” I said, looking at a well surrounded by a rainbow-colored mist. Through the clouds, I thought I could see my deceased family. “Mom, Dad, your daughter has been unfilial. I’m coming to find you.” Just as I was about to jump, a red light shot out and wrapped around me like a rope. “Where are you going, big sister Rose?” Lily asked, holding her baby. She looked weak, and there was blood seeping from under her robes. Her eyes were red, as if she’d been crying. “I’m jumping from the God-Slaying Terrace to make way for you two.” I tried to use my cultivation to break free, but the rope only tightened. “This is the Immortal-Binding Rope. The stronger your cultivation, the harder it is to escape.” She dragged her weak body over and knelt before me. “Are you mad at me, big sister Rose? If I’ve done something to offend you, I apologize.” The comments started fawning over her again. *“Our Lily-bug looks even worse than when the side character framed her and caused her to miscarry.”* *“I’m starting to regret telling the side character where the Terrace is. She should have just stayed in her lane and been the villain.”* *“The female lead is apologizing, and she hasn’t even done anything wrong!”* *“The side character is just using us to bully the female lead!”* *“Next time she asks for directions, I’m giving her the wrong ones and letting her get into trouble.”* Hah. These commenters were so quick to jump to conclusions and so hypocritical. I didn’t have time for them. I focused on trying to conceal my cultivation so I could escape. I had started cultivating at the same time as Ethan, and I had actually progressed faster than him. I had only pretended to be weaker to protect his ego. If I hadn’t died before breaking through to the next stage, I might have been just as powerful as he was now. Lily must have sensed the rope loosening. She chanted a few words under her breath. “I’m not giving Ethie-bear to you. We’re soulmates. You should just do your part and hate me. That’s enough.” A small, almost imperceptible smile touched her lips. Something was wrong. Suddenly, the rope around me vanished. Lily fainted, and the baby, who had fallen to the ground, started wailing. Ethan arrived, his brow furrowed. Seeing the scene, he shot me a look of pure hatred. “Lily-bug told me you were jealous of her, but I didn’t believe it. I thought you weren’t the type to be petty. I never loved her, my heart has always been with you. Why couldn’t you just leave her alone? She was worried you would be in danger if you returned to the mortal world, so she tried to stop you. And you attacked her to get free!” “I never knew you could be so cruel. She just gave birth, she’s weak. Now she’s hemorrhaging. Are you trying to kill her? Bringing you back was my obsession for a million years. Now that my wish has been fulfilled, we are even.” He picked up Lily, his eyes red. “You wanted a divorce? Fine. I’ll give you a divorce.” He cut off a lock of his hair and threw it at my feet. As he left, he sneered, “You have no idea what the mortal world is like now. I bet in three days, you’ll be on your knees, praying at my statue, begging me to come get you.” I turned my back to him and swallowed the last of my tears. “You’re mistaken, Your Majesty. You and I… we will never meet again.” And I jumped.

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One drunken night, I went wild with Anson, my best friend since childhood. I was in the shower when the text began to scroll across my vision. 【Can all these ‘girl-bros’ just spontaneously combust already? Seriously.】 【Using the ‘best friend’ card to pull this crap… she’s a real piece of work.】 【His one true love has already appeared. Get rid of this pick-me girl, she’s disgusting!】 I stood there in silence for a moment, then pulled the shower curtain closed. When Anson called later, asking me out for another drink, my voice was flat. “I can’t. I’m pregnant.” I paused, then added, “And no, it’s not yours.” 1 We’re adults. We have needs. Anson and I had known each other forever, and he’d always kept his circle clean. So, what happened, happened. Last night was insane. He pulled me from the bathroom to the floor-to-ceiling windows, a whirlwind of tangled limbs and breathless moments. But when his phone rang at the crack of dawn, he was gone, not even remembering to grab me my favorite chicken and wild rice soup from Henderson’s on his way out. And then, in the shower, the stream of text appeared. Once I pieced it all together, I understood. I was the despised “girl-bro.” Anson was destined for someone else. His early morning disappearing act? It was for her. He’d been obsessed with this girl for a week, making a pilgrimage to her coffee shop every single morning, a relentless, charming pest. I was curious. Were these vulgar comments scrolling before my eyes real? The moment I walked into that coffee shop, Anson froze. The girl was leaning over to place a coffee in front of him, a strand of her hair brushing against his arm. His eyes met mine, and his composure shattered. “L-Leah…” The girl looked up at me. I smiled. “One Americano. Black, no sugar.” The comments went wild. 【Who the hell does she think she is, ordering the main character around?! I’m gonna lose my mind!】 【Does she think she’s hot stuff just sitting there? He was never hers to begin with, what’s with the attitude?!】 【He hasn’t even won the girl over yet and she’s already here stirring up trouble. How pathetic can you get?!】 The girl blinked, a little startled. “Would you like that iced or hot, ma’am?” “Hot, thank you.” She turned to get back to work. Anson’s eyes darted around, guilt written all over his face. “How did you find this place?” I didn’t answer. He scrambled for an excuse. “This is… a friend’s shop.” I remained silent. He hesitated, then tested the waters. “Leah, are you mad?” 2 “Here you go, ma’am,” the girl said politely. “Your Americano.” Her pale hand placed the cup on my table. She lingered, making no move to leave. The comments wailed in agony. 【I can’t with this. The moment our girl starts to fall for him, this damn pick-me shows up.】 【Her heart is turning to ice right now!】 【Does this ‘girl-bro’ seriously not get how much she’s in the way? Acting all high and mighty…】 Anson glanced from me to her, then back again. Clenching his jaw, he stood up and took the girl’s arm. “Mia, this is—” “I’m Anson’s…” I cut him off, watching the color drain from his face before finishing slowly, “…best friend. One of the guys.” Both of them went pale. 【Oh my god, she actually had the nerve to say it out loud?】 【It’s okay, girl, I get you. I used to be a pick-me too, until someone beat the crap out of me. Haven’t dared since.】 【This is next level. She’s just straight-up declaring war!】 Beneath the flood of text, Mia’s eyes reddened. Anson shot up, flustered. “Mia, don’t be upset.” I took a sip of my coffee. The bitterness made me wince. I scanned the QR code, paid, and walked out. All I needed was to confirm the comments were real. Dragging this out any further was pointless. As I pushed the door open, the early summer breeze hit my face. Someone rushed out after me, their expression ugly. “Leah, did you come all this way just to give her a hard time?” 3 My eyes fell on the dark red mark on his neck. I pulled a compact mirror from my bag and handed it to him. “You missed a spot.” He froze. His gaze dropped to the mirror, and panic flashed in his eyes. “This… a mosquito must’ve gotten me at some point.” He tried to pull his collar up to hide the mark. A pathetic attempt to hide the obvious. I was already walking away. I was the one who left that mark. What was he trying to explain to me? 4 Luckily, the trip to the coffee shop didn’t take long. Henderson’s was still open. I definitely needed a bowl of their chicken and wild rice soup to refuel. It was a shame, though. Anson was one of the few guys I knew inside and out. The experience was… satisfactory. And free. Guess that’s off the table now. As I was lamenting my loss, the group chat with all our old neighborhood friends started blowing up. Anson: 【Guys, I’m officially taken. Anyone free tonight? Let’s celebrate.】 Someone in the group immediately started teasing him. 【Cut the crap, man. If you wanna drink, just say it. We all know who you’re with.】 【Yeah, seriously. We’ve known Leah longer than you have. Stop showing off.】 Anson sent a series of ellipses. The next moment, a new person was added to the group. A profile picture of a fluffy pink cloud. She sent a voice message. 【Hi everyone, I’m Anson’s girlfriend, Mia! It’s so nice to meet you all! ♡】 The chat went silent for a beat. Then, a flood of welcome emojis filled the screen. Privately, four or five messages popped up on my phone. 【Leah, what’s going on? Did you and Anson have a fight?】 I couldn’t reply to all of them. I decided to just respond to Mia in the main group. 【Welcome.】 Almost instantly, another voice note from Mia appeared. 【Is Leah in this group? I heard she’s like, a really good friend to all you guys.】 5 The comments were howling with laughter. 【LMAO, no matter how smug the pick-me acts, she still has to call the girlfriend ‘sis’ once it’s official.】 【Go, Mia, go! Called her out the second she joined the group. Let’s see what face this girl has left.】 【This is the kind of satisfying drama I live for! Everyone stand and applaud!】 My… arrangement with Anson had been going on for six months. Our closeness wasn’t a secret in our little circle. Even if I maintained the “best friend” persona, I was Anson’s best friend. With one sentence, Mia had demoted me to being everyone’s buddy. The group chat fell silent again. No one dared to touch that line. Only Anson responded, tagging the pink cloud. 【You can’t expect every girl to be as sweet and reserved as you.】 He then sent me a private message. 【She doesn’t know about us.】 【This one’s on me. Can you just let it go?】 It seemed he’d recovered from the initial shock and guilt of seeing me this morning. He was firmly choosing his one true love. I didn’t reply. Then, a notification popped up. A wire transfer from Anson. $5,000.00. Another one. $13,140.00. Large, specific amounts. The kind you can’t easily dispute. I accepted the money. Anson sent a pleading emoji. I was quiet for a moment, then typed a reply in the group chat. 【See you tonight.】 I had made my stance clear. Only then did our friends start chiming in. 【Got it, see you tonight!】 And just like that, the invisible peanut gallery exploded again. 【What’s her problem? Has she never been to a party before? Gotta make her presence known even at his relationship announcement?】 【The female rivalry is strong with this one. The whole ‘girl-bro’ act is just designed to piss off the girlfriend, isn’t it? I’m getting second-hand cringe.】 【Someone please tell this girl to stop being so delusional. Not every guy is secretly in love with her.】 【I think you just perfectly psychoanalyzed Leah lol.】 【She’s a prophet! Get her!】 My eyes scanned the text. Tonight’s party… who said I was going for Anson? 6 I must have been exhausted from the night before. By the time I woke up, it was already late. When I arrived at the restaurant, most of our friends were already there. Mia’s eyes locked onto me instantly. Instead of a greeting, she smiled and tapped a dish on the menu. The peel-and-eat shrimp. “I’d love to have this, but peeling them is such a pain.” Anson, ever the doting new boyfriend, stroked her head indulgently. “I’ll peel them for you.” Mia beamed, then acted as if she’d just noticed my arrival. “Oh, Leah’s here! Why are you sitting so far away?” She feigned curiosity. “Shouldn’t the ‘best friend’ sit right next to the guys?” The table went quiet. She pursed her lips, pretending to realize her mistake. “Oh, Anson… did I say something wrong?” I laughed. “You didn’t say anything wrong.” I looked her up and down. “You seem to know a lot about how ‘girl-bros’ operate. Speaking from experience?” Mia and Anson’s faces changed in perfect unison once again. I leaned back in my chair, enjoying the show. I’d never seen Anson look so cornered before. Now that I was over him, it was actually quite entertaining. 【So gross. Why are these types of girls so annoying? Just because she’s known him longer, she thinks she has some kind of superiority?】 【Leah has such a toxic mouth. Just because Mia saw through her little game, she accuses her of being the same kind of trash?!】 【Wow, she’s great at dragging people down with her. Are you okay, lady?!】 Anson finally met my gaze again. The guilt was gone, replaced by a steely resolve. “Leah, Mia’s young.” The next part was obvious. He was going to tell me to be the bigger person. A friend tried to smooth things over. “Leah, come sit over here with me.” Suddenly, the door to the private room swung open. A voice, dripping with a playful smirk, announced, “Sorry I’m late, guys. The race just finished.” 7 He was the very picture of youthful arrogance, brimming with a devil-may-care energy. He plopped down in the chair right next to me, the one I had my arm draped over. Even through his leather racing jacket, I could feel the heat radiating off him. “Leah,” he purred, “I came just for you.” The room fell silent. Anson’s face instantly darkened. The comments erupted. 【What’s this new game? Is the pick-me playing hard to get now?】 【This trick is so old and she’s still using it? Does she really think he’s going to fall for that?】 【I’m telling you, any social circle with a ‘girl-bro’ is a mess. She’s probably been passed around by everyone in the group. Why else would they all defer to her?】 【Go get a check-up, you skank!】 Ryder picked up a menu from the table, flipping through the pages. “The pot roast, the honey-glazed ham, and the BBQ ribs. One of each, thanks.” After ordering, he turned back to me. “Those are your favorites, right, Leah?” The comments. A stream of ellipses flowed across my vision. 【…】 【…】 【…】 【So Leah found this psycho to make Anson jealous? LMAO, you’re kidding me, right?】 【He might be hot, but the second he opens his mouth, you know he’s a mess. How is this guy supposed to make Anson regret anything?!】 【Wait, hold on… look at Anson.】 Following their lead, I saw it. Anson’s expression had changed completely. His fist, resting on the table, was trembling slightly. I knew why he was losing his cool. When I was a teenager, going through a growth spurt, I loved heavy, greasy food. Anson caught me once and teased me for eating like a slob. That’s how the “one of the guys” nickname started. It wasn’t until I got older and developed a sense of self-consciousness that I made him swear to stop. He only agreed to keep it a secret after I promised him, “Childhood friends, forever and ever.” My favorite foods were supposed to be our little secret. And now, another man was casually listing them off right in front of him. And that man was now gently, tantalizingly, hooking his pinky finger around mine. “I remembered, right, Leah?” 8 Smack. The leather-bound menu hit the table with a loud crack. Everyone in the room turned to the source of the sound. Anson’s face was a thundercloud. The man beside me just raised a dark eyebrow. “What’s the problem, Anson?” he drawled. “Think my order’s too expensive?” His pinky continued its slow, deliberate dance with mine, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “If money’s tight, I can cover it.” Before Anson could explode, the comments did. 【Holy sh*t, what is this guy saying… how can he talk like that!】 【Dude, wake up! Look at the trash sitting next to you! Even if you’re rivals, you shouldn’t fight over a girl like her!】 【This is all her fault. She’s playing one against the other. She must be loving this!】 It seemed the comment section was a big fan of male solidarity. I couldn’t help but chuckle. Anson, however, was furious. “Leah, did you bring him here just to ruin things?” “Hmm? The invitation you sent to the group didn’t include me, Anson?” The two men’s gazes locked across the round table, sparks flying between them. The next second, they both stood up and walked out of the room. Mia’s face was pale. “Anson…” “It’s fine, Mia. Wait for me.” Back in the room, no one spoke. Everyone was used to the friction that sparked whenever these two were in the same place. Even though they were in the same neighborhood group, Anson never showed up to events if Ryder was there, and vice versa. Their rivalry was no act. But the little flower across from me had clearly never seen a showdown like this. Her eyes were red as she looked around at everyone, a picture of vulnerability. I couldn’t be bothered to meet her gaze. I pushed my chair back and stepped out into the hallway. The two of them had picked a less-than-ideal spot for their chat. Just around the corner, I could hear every word perfectly. 9 “Everyone in the group knows about Leah and me. You didn’t?” “I know. So what?” “She’s been in my bed for the last six months. You really want my sloppy seconds?” The click of a lighter echoed from around the corner. Ryder’s voice was lazy, dismissive. “What? You expect her to stay celibate for you or something?” “You’ve got a lot of nerve. Aren’t you disgusted picking up my leftovers?” Before I could storm around the corner, I heard the sickening thud of a fist hitting flesh. Ryder had Anson by the collar, his eyes blazing. “If you don’t know how to talk, then shut your damn mouth, you piece of garbage.” Anson just laughed, grabbing Ryder’s shoulder to retaliate. “Anson!” I shouted his name. His body went rigid. He looked at me in disbelief, a flicker of panic in his eyes. “Leah, when did you get here?” I took a steadying breath. “Right before you called me your sloppy seconds.” Ryder let go of his collar. Anson was stunned. “Leah, I’m a man. I know what other men want. Ryder is obviously just…” He didn’t finish. A full glass of wine splashed across his face. A passing waiter froze, his face white with shock. I wiped my hand. “Put this on Room 888’s tab.” The waiter practically fled. I curled my lips into a smile. “Just helping you clear your head. A little lesson in respect.” His jaw tightened. For a few seconds, we just stared at each other. Then, he laughed, a cold, humorless sound. “Is this your revenge for me getting a girlfriend? Using this guy?” “You know what kind of scene he runs in. The dirt, the grime.” His tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek, his confidence returning. “You’re so obsessed with being clean. You really think… you think I’d believe you’d touch someone like him?” From the direction of the private room, Mia’s tearful voice called out, “Anson, where did you go…?” Anson’s expression changed. He strode back towards her. I heard her gasp. “Oh my god, you’re hurt.” 10 How sweet. I didn’t need to see it; the comments were giving me a play-by-play of their tender moment. I started to head back, but a hand caught my arm. Ryder had a bruise forming on the corner of his mouth, but his eyes were fixed on me, intense and unwavering. “The scene might be messy,” he said, his voice low. “But I’m not.” His eyes were burning. “I always knew you liked the clean-cut type.” Just like my favorite foods. I’d never told Ryder any of this, yet he knew it all. I figured some things needed to be said before they started. “I did sleep with Anson.” He went silent. “And I have no intention of ever getting married.” That’s why I needed a partner who was relatively stable and clean. It wasn’t about loyalty. It was about what one of those comments had guessed right. Protecting my health. Ryder’s lips pressed into a thin line, the corners of his mouth turning down. “Then… why didn’t you choose me from the start?” I didn’t answer. I couldn’t very well tell him I’d heard the racing scene was notoriously wild. After all, Ryder had lost a good fifty pounds in the year since he started racing. Aside from illegal activities, the only other explanation was… excessive physical exertion. A waiter carrying a platter of meat dishes walked by. Ryder stopped him. “The food for Room 888? You can cancel it. Just pack it to go.” The waiter hesitated. Ryder pulled him towards the front desk. “It’s Anson’s private room, you think he’s going to stiff you? Pack up these meat dishes, and bring him some king crab and peel-and-eat shrimp instead. Anything that’s a pain in the ass to eat. The man’s trying to do business, help him keep his guests occupied. Now go.” 11 He dragged me out of the restaurant and back to his car. The boyish features were gone, replaced by the sharp, wild edges of a young man. The chubby kid I remembered was a distant memory. He was urgent, pressing me against the back of the passenger seat. His breath was hot and ragged against my ear. “Leah… you said you’d give me a chance.” I pushed against his shoulder, my gaze serious. “How did you know Anson was going to peel shrimp for her?” He wasn’t even there at the time. His lips hovered just above my eyes. “I was worried that bastard would use his new girlfriend to put you down, so I had someone in the group give me a live feed.” After his confession, he leaned in again. My head was spinning, but there were rules that had to be set. “Ryder, I’m not looking for a relationship.” His voice was laced with disappointment. “Leah, please… don’t say that now.” He kissed me like he’d been starving for years, a desperate, reverent touch. After a long moment, he pulled back, breathless but clear-headed. “Not here.” The sports car tore through the empty streets, a blur of motion and sound. He swept me up in his whirlwind, and before I knew it, we were back at my apartment. My consciousness drifted in and out. I had a fleeting thought: so, the chubby kid didn’t just lose weight… he must have been hitting the gym. Hard. Beneath the racing jacket wasn’t a dirty soul. It was a ridiculously ripped physique. Well, then. I was definitely not getting the short end of this stick. The next day, I woke up starving. I vaguely remembered the takeout from last night, none of which I’d had a chance to eat. Then, a delicious aroma wafted in from the kitchen. That smell… it was Henderson’s chicken and wild rice soup. I walked out to see Ryder in an apron. “You’re awake? I’m just finishing up an omelet. It’ll be ready in a second.” My eyes fell to his feet. “Why aren’t you wearing slippers?” He tensed. “I’m not wearing anything that bastard wore.” Fine by me. It wasn’t my feet getting cold. After a few spoonfuls of soup, I realized something was off. “How did you know I like this?” He placed the omelet on the table, his eyes holding an emotion I couldn’t quite decipher. “You never told me what you like. But when I care about something… I pay attention.” It sounded almost like an accusation. I didn’t have the energy to analyze it. I unlocked my phone. It was flooded with missed calls. A relentless stream of video calls from Anson. A cascade of 60-second voice messages. No money transfers, so I didn’t bother listening. The comments, which had been absent all night, started scrolling again. 【What is he doing? Did he really fall for her trick?】 【A woman who can navigate a group of guys like that is never good news. Is he not worried about catching something?】 【For all he knows, she was with someone else last night. I don’t get what he’s so worked up about!】 【Ugh, they were supposed to have a perfect night and she ruined it all! Damn bitch!】 Their words reminded me. Ryder had been the one to reach out yesterday. “Now that you’re done with him, does that mean I have a chance?” My answer had been, “I’ll consider it.” And he took that “consideration” straight to my bed? I didn’t like calculating men. They were the type to go after my money. 12 My phone rang. Anson’s voice, furious and frantic, blasted through the speaker. “Leah, where are you? Did you and that asshole just ditch my party?!” I held the phone away from my ear. “I wouldn’t call it ditching.” We did show up, after all. But in our circle of friends, my family’s company was currently the most successful. If I left, it was highly unlikely anyone else would stick around. “Leah, why aren’t you eating your omelet?” Ryder pushed the plate closer to me. The other end of the line went dead silent. Then, Anson’s voice erupted, a raw, broken sound. “Leah, where are you?! Who is that? Is that Ryder? Are you insane?! Do you have any idea what kind of world he’s involved in?!” I didn’t move. Ryder simply picked up the omelet, cut it into small pieces, and waited. After a moment, seeing I had no intention of responding to Anson, he let out a soft, slow chuckle. “The racing world,” he said, his voice smooth as silk but loud enough for the phone to pick up. “If you’re curious, Anson, I can tell you all about it.” The line went dead. 【Wait, what is he doing? She slept with someone else, why is HE throwing a tantrum?!】 【That’s just how ‘girl-bros’ are. They sleep with everyone in the circle.】 【I feel so bad for Mia. She’s probably crying into her pillow right now.】 【Hold on, calling the ‘girl-bro’ first thing in the morning? There’s a flaw in his character arc here…】 So, Anson had been busy too. Impressive. He usually needed a full day to recover after a night like ours. I had to hand it to him, finding the energy to meddle in my affairs after his own marathon session. 13 I’d barely stepped out the door when I got a call from building security. Anson was camped outside my apartment, banging on the door, telling anyone who tried to stop him that he was the owner’s boyfriend. I saw the new ring of hickies decorating his neck in the security feed. I frowned. I never thought Anson would stoop to something so trashy. We both had new partners. What was this, trying to have his cake and eat it too? My phone buzzed with his texts. 【Leah, even if you’re trying to get back at me, you could have found someone better. You know what Ryder is like.】 【I can’t just stand by and watch you ruin your life!】 【Leah, I know you’re hurt, but you can’t do this to yourself, Leah!】 I called security and had them revoke Anson’s access to the elevator. Then I finally took a moment to reply to him. 【Haven’t you cured your hero complex yet?】 Silence. Plenty of people in our old neighborhood circle were in business, their families and fortunes intertwined. If Anson hadn’t made such a scene, I wouldn’t have wanted to humiliate him. The man driving the car kept stealing glances at me. “Leah,” he said suddenly, “there will never be anyone else but you.” I tossed my phone aside and leaned back against the seat. “Fine.” As long as he didn’t try to force me to believe in love, he could say whatever he wanted. 14 For two solid weeks, Ryder and I explored the mysteries of the human body. Pecs, abs… none of them compared to a solid, well-defined… gluteus maximus. He relentlessly insisted he was the cleanest guy I’d ever meet. He gave up drinking, parties, everything. He’d even drive me to a spa appointment and wait in the car downstairs for hours. I couldn’t take it anymore. I kicked him lightly in the shin. “Don’t you ever have races or anything?” “I have one tomorrow, actually. A cross-desert rally. I’ll be gone for days.” I breathed a sigh of relief. But he caught my ankle, his eyes darkening. “So, Leah… to prove just how clean I am, tonight, I’m going to make sure there’s nothing left.” Nothing… left? My mind went blank as he pulled me into his arms. I was too tired to even cry, but through the haze, I thought I heard him whisper softly in my ear. “Leah… can I have my own pair of slippers?” 15 When I woke up, the sun was high in the sky, casting bright stripes across the tangled sheets. Sunlight illuminated the faint, reddish marks scattered across my legs. The apartment was empty. I should have been relieved, but a strange sense of emptiness settled in my chest. Humans really are social creatures. You get used to someone being around, and their absence leaves a void. On the table was a large insulated container. I opened it, and the familiar, comforting scent of Henderson’s chicken and wild rice soup filled the air. It was still warm. As I took a few bites, I thought, it’s just a pair of slippers. What’s the big deal? The group chat, silent for weeks, lit up again. Someone was planning a night out at a new bar, one that was supposedly filled with gorgeous people. I replied with a simple, “OK.” It was still early, so I went out for a bit. I found myself in a designer store, buying a ridiculously overpriced pair of logo-covered slippers. My mind drifted. I remembered how Anson had just brought his own things to my place without asking. And now Ryder… Well, what can I say? The little wolf knew how to be charming. 16 The new bar lived up to its hype. It was packed, a sea of beautiful, laughing people. Our friends had booked the largest booth, and the table was already covered in bottles. Maybe it had been too long since I’d been out, but the thumping music was starting to get on my nerves. Some of our friends were cheering for the attractive people on the dance floor. One of them noticed my mood. “Leah, check out that DJ! He’s super popular right now!” I glanced over. He was pale and pretty, but his wiry frame was nothing compared to the raw, explosive power of a well-built physique. I was bored. After a few drinks, the comments started scrolling again. 【Is it just me, or does Anson not seem to appreciate Mia now that he has her? The sweet moments between them have really fizzled out.】 【I agree. He’s been totally distracted lately.】 【Don’t tell me he’s still thinking about that girl-bro. Is this a case of the ‘grass is always greener’? Ugh, I’m losing my faith in love.】 【Hey hey hey, look! In that booth! Isn’t that the pick-me?!】 【Oh crap, look at Anson’s eyes light up. What a scumbag. I’m done with this story!】 A moment later, someone sat down beside me. He didn’t even grab a drink before getting straight to the point. “Leah, I told you Ryder was bad news.” I looked up and saw the undisguised glee in his eyes. Friends from across the booth, unable to hear Anson over the music, stood up to raise their glasses. To Anson’s right, Mia tugged on his sleeve, her voice soft and delicate. “Anson, it’s that time of the month, I can’t drink…” He acted as if he hadn’t heard her, standing up to clink glasses with our friends. The only two people left sitting on the sofa were me and Mia. Our eyes met. She quickly looked away, embarrassed. 【What is he doing? Can’t he stand up for his own girlfriend?】 【I don’t get it. What kind of ‘one true love’ is this? I was so moved when he was chasing her.】 【Has he been brainwashed by the pick-me?】 【Wait, look at her. What is she doing?!】 17 I flagged down a waiter and ordered two glasses of milk. When I placed one in front of Mia, she looked at me, utterly shocked. Anson noticed and his gaze fell on me, his eyes softening with a strange tenderness. “Leah, you’re looking out for her for me. It’s because you still have feelings for me, isn’t it?” Just as he spoke, the music cut out. Mia’s face went white. Well. Playing the saint isn’t for everyone. I grabbed the friend to my left and swapped seats with him. From the corner of my eye, I saw Mia and Anson arguing about something. Her eyes were red. The next thing I knew, a stack of photos was slapped onto the table. They were thrown with such force that the top one flew off and landed at my feet. The photo showed a man in a racing jacket. In the passenger seat of his car sat a beautiful woman with curly hair. The car was parked in front of a hotel. The time stamp in the bottom right corner… was from today. The sound system must have malfunctioned, because all I could hear was a loud ringing in my ears. Anson was spreading the photos out across the table, one by one. “Leah, take a good look. I told you Ryder was no good!” He grabbed my arm. I don’t know where the rage came from, but I swung my hand and slapped him hard across the face. Anson froze. Even our friends were too stunned to say a word.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “385183”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Eleven years. We’d been together for eleven years when Ethan Hayes promised me the wedding of the century. But three days before I was supposed to walk down the aisle, an anonymous email landed in my inbox. It was a photo: Ethan and another woman, beaming, holding up a marriage certificate from City Hall. Her smile was radiant. The way Ethan looked at her was pure adoration. The caption was a single, chilling line: “I’m coming home.” I took the photo to Ethan. His response was a casual shrug. “It’s real,” he said, as if discussing the weather. “Sienna decided she never wants to get married for real, but she wanted to know what it felt like to get the license. I was just helping her out.” My mind flashed back to the day he proposed. I remembered the giddy way I’d blasted the news to hundreds of friends, the absolute fool I must have looked. “If you have a problem with it,” he added, his voice cool, “we can just cancel the wedding. It’s not like I have to marry you.” “I’ll marry you,” I said. The wedding would go on as planned. But it would be his one-man show. 1 “Good. You get ready, then,” Ethan said, the corner of his mouth ticking up in a smirk. He knew he’d won. He’d always been sure that no matter what, I’d never leave him. “Sienna’s flight gets in today. I’m going to pick her up, and we’re having a welcome home party for her tonight. You can go to the final dress fitting by yourself.” And why wouldn’t he be sure? For eleven years, I was the one doing the chasing. I gave up my first-choice university for him, passed on my dream job to follow his. I even missed my parents’ last moments because I was on another continent with him. He was used to it—to me sacrificing everything for him. So even after he legally married Sienna, he expected me to walk down that aisle without a second thought. “Oh, and you need to be at the party tonight,” he said, adjusting his cuffs in the reflection of the floor-length mirror, glancing at me. “Sienna specifically mentioned she hasn’t seen you in ages and wants to catch up. I’ll text you the address. Just head over right after your fitting.” Ethan and Sienna. They were the golden couple, the prom king and queen everyone assumed would end up together. When we were kids playing house, they were the prince and princess; I was the maid who served them. He was the sun in my universe, brilliant and untouchable. If Sienna hadn’t moved abroad all those years ago, I probably never would have had a chance. And Sienna was so thoughtful, wasn’t she? Sending me that little email before she came back. But this time, for the first time, I didn’t just roll over. “I can’t make it tonight,” I said. “I have plans.” Ethan’s smile vanished. “You have plans?” he scoffed. “What could you possibly have plans for?” “Packing,” I said under my breath. To get the hell out of here. He cut me off before I could finish. “Tessa, for God’s sake, can you not be dramatic?” His voice was sharp. “You can’t even be bothered to come up with a good lie. You have to be there tonight. I already promised Sienna. If she can be mature enough to see you, the least you can do is not be so petty.” 2 She could be mature enough to see me. Wasn’t that only because I was the one being gracious? But there was no point in arguing. Ethan wouldn’t listen. He left, and I didn’t say another word. The silence in the apartment was deafening as I tried to figure out how I was going to tell my grandfather that the wedding was off. I dialed his number. He picked up on the second ring. “Tessa-girl.” “Grandpa,” I started, my voice tight. “That little start-up you said you’d give me… is the offer still on the table?” There was a brief pause. “Tessa? You’re not getting married?” “No.” I braced myself for the questions, the disappointment. But all he said was, “Alright. A promise is a promise. I’ll be waiting for you when you get home.” After hanging up, I called the bridal shop to cancel my fitting, then I started to pack. The apartment belonged to Ethan. I’d moved in a year ago, right after his grand proposal. That period had been the happiest of my life. “Tessa,” he’d said, down on one knee. “I can charge forward without fear because I know you’re always behind me. It’s been ten years. I want to give us a real home. Will you marry me?” Of course, I said yes. I moved in the next day, pouring my heart into every detail, turning this empty space into our home. I watched it fill with warmth and life, and my heart swelled with a satisfaction I’d never known. But looking around now, I realized almost nothing in it was mine. It was all for him. And it was all useless now. I grabbed a handful of large trash bags. Into them went the decorative pieces I’d bought for his study, the matching “his and hers” items he’d never used, the celebratory banners for the wedding in three days, and our engagement photos, which he’d insisted on keeping hidden in the back of the closet. I was halfway through when the doorbell rang. Two people in professional black uniforms stood at the door, clipboards in hand. “Good afternoon, are you Ms. Sienna Laurent?” A bitter smile touched my lips. “I’m not. If you’re looking for her, you might want to try again in a few days.” Once I was gone, this would be their home. Or maybe they’d find it tainted by my presence and move somewhere else. Not my problem anymore. “Is there anyone else home?” one of them asked. “We contacted Ms. Laurent through the homeowner’s group chat. We’re here for the annual fire safety inspection.” “The homeowner’s group chat?” 3 I had lived here for a year and had never heard of any homeowner’s group chat. And why would Sienna be in it? “Yes, ma’am. Our records are based on the property deed. Apartment 1201 is registered to Mr. Ethan Hayes and Ms. Sienna Laurent. Are you a friend of theirs, or…?” Their eyes shifted, their professional smiles tightening. I was standing there in sweatpants and an old t-shirt, looking nothing like a guest. But I couldn’t spare a single thought for what they were thinking. It felt like the top of my skull had been peeled back and my veins filled with cement. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe. I thought I was living in Ethan’s home. I thought I was building our future love nest. But the truth? I was a guest in the home he co-owned with Sienna. The absurdity of it was suffocating. “I’m sorry, this isn’t her home. Please leave,” I snapped, pushing them out and slamming the door. The moment it clicked shut, my strength gave out. I slid down the door, burying my face in my arms, my body trembling. I’d been with him since I was eighteen, following him across the country, across the world, for a decade. A year ago, he proposed, and we finally settled down. And only today did I learn the truth. On the very day he proposed, the day I was ecstatically telling everyone I was getting married, he was at City Hall, signing a marriage certificate with Sienna. The home I’d lived in for a year had both their names on the deed. They were the legally married couple. So what did that make me? The girlfriend of eleven years. What the hell was I? A wave of fury washed over me. I tore through the apartment, ripping open drawers, throwing things aside until I found it in his study: the dark red folder containing the deed. Just then, my phone began to scream, ringing over and over. After what felt like an eternity, my numb fingers finally answered. “Where have you been? I told you to come to the party. Where are you?” Ethan’s voice was impatient. Then another, brighter voice chimed in. “Tessa! I just landed! I’ve missed you so much, you have to come say hi!” The names on the deed, printed in crisp, official lettering, blurred and merged with the voices in my ear. They owned my sight and my hearing. A sharp pain lanced through my eyes, making my vision swim. After the call ended, a dozen more texts from Ethan came through, each one more demanding than the last. Numbly, I put everything back in its place, smoothing over the chaos I’d created. I changed my clothes and walked out the door. If they wanted to see me so badly, then I would go. 4 The private room was roaring with noise when I pushed the door open. “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” A crowd of their friends was clapping and cheering. No one even noticed me. Ethan chuckled, a look of fond exasperation on his face, and wrapped an arm around Sienna’s shoulders. He leaned in and gave her a deep, lingering kiss right on the lips. Sienna played the part of the blushing recipient perfectly, and the room erupted. I thought watching this would shatter me. I thought I’d be sick with jealousy, that I’d rush forward and tear them apart. Instead, I found myself raising my phone, coolly framing the shot. I even took a moment to find the best angle, the one that captured the full, cloying intimacy of the moment. Suddenly, Sienna’s head whipped around. Her eyes widened in panic as she saw me, and she shoved Ethan away. “Tessa! You’re here! Don’t get the wrong idea, we were just playing a game. I lost a dare, so…” “Ethan, hurry up and explain it to her!” she urged, tugging at his sleeve. Ethan, a smear of red lipstick on his lips, looked at me, his expression flat. “Sienna lost a game. I was just helping her out.” There it was again. Just helping her out. Helping her get a marriage license, helping her with a kiss. What was next? Helping her into bed? Helping her have a baby? I forced a smile. “I get it. It’s fine.” Ethan frowned, seemingly thrown off by my calm demeanor. Before he could say anything else, Sienna rushed over and grabbed my arm. “Come on, sit! It’s been years, we have so much to catch up on.” Whether it was intentional or not, she steered me into the seat directly between her and Ethan. Every time she asked me a question, she would lean across me to get Ethan’s opinion, and he would answer her patiently every time. The looks on the faces of everyone else in the room were telling. I was an obstacle, a roadblock between the two of them. My very presence was an inconvenience. 5 “Sienna, you didn’t come back all of a sudden because you heard Ethan was getting married, did you? Here to crash the wedding?” someone finally asked, their tone laced with amusement. Sienna’s sweet voice was playfully chiding. “Don’t be ridiculous. There’s nothing going on between me and Ethan!” “Oh, come on,” another person chimed in. “Everyone knows you two are legally married. That social media post went viral in our circle!” “Exactly! And we all know Ethan’s been in love with you forever. If you just said the word, no one else would even stand a chance. Right, Ethan?” They were shameless, their words deliberately provocative. These were the people who had grown up rooting for them as a couple, who had never accepted me. I remembered the one and only time I’d attended a gathering with them as Ethan’s girlfriend. They’d asked me to my face what made me think I was good enough for him, how I had the nerve to even pursue him. I’d caused a huge scene that night, and Ethan had never taken me to one of their events again. But this time, I felt nothing. I smiled along with everyone else and looked at Sienna. “He’s just waiting for you to say yes,” I said, my voice even. “Give him the word, and you can be the bride in three days.” Everyone stared at me like I had lost my mind. Even Sienna couldn’t hide the flash of surprise—and excitement—in her eyes. But Ethan’s face darkened. “Tessa!” he snarled. “What the hell are you talking about?” “I’m not talking nonsense,” I said calmly, my expression deadly serious. He shot up from the sofa, grabbed my wrist, and dragged me out of the room. “Tessa, are you insane?” 6 Insane? Maybe I was, once. But I was cured now. Before I could answer, my phone rang. It was my grandfather. I shook Ethan’s hand off and answered. “Tessa-girl, did you book your flight yet? What day are you coming home?” “I got it, Grandpa. The day after tomorrow, in the evening.” We chatted for another minute before I hung up. Ethan’s sharp eyes were fixed on me. “What flight? Are you going somewhere?” “No,” I lied smoothly. “Grandpa’s coming for the wedding. He was just asking if I’d booked his ticket.” He accepted it without question, though his brow remained furrowed. “Just… don’t cause any more trouble tonight, okay? I’ll talk to my parents. I’ll try to get them to come to the wedding.” His tone was that of a king bestowing a great favor. I felt none of the old excitement or gratitude I would have a week ago. All I felt was a hollow, bitter amusement. My good behavior, my silence about him and Sienna, was the price for his parents’ attendance at our wedding. The Hayes family came from a long line of academics. His parents were both professors; Ethan was a prestigious researcher. My family was in business. They’d always looked down on me, on my “new money” background. For years, I had showered them with gifts, spent more time with his parents than I had with my own. None of it mattered. In their eyes, I would never be one of them. Now that I was finally giving up, they wouldn’t have to pretend to appreciate my efforts anymore. “Okay,” I said. “Well, I’m heading home. You guys have fun.” “I’ll drive you.” For some reason, he was suddenly patient with me. In the past, I’d have to beg for a ride days in advance, and even then, he’d likely forget. He pulled up to the front of my building, got out, and opened my door, holding a hand over the frame so I wouldn’t hit my head. I was silent the whole way, but as the car’s headlights cut through the darkness, a flicker of warmth sparked in my chest. Maybe… maybe he did care about me, just a little. Even a tiny bit was something. But then my phone buzzed with a new message. It was a screenshot of a social media post from a year ago. 7 Two profile pictures, side by side. On the exact same day that Ethan proposed to me, he and Sienna had both posted photos of their marriage certificate. Sienna’s caption: “With you, my life is complete!” Ethan’s caption: “Whatever you want, it’s yours.” The comments below were a flood of congratulations. I had never seen this post. In all our years together, Ethan had never once posted a single thing about me. We had the same circle of friends. Did that mean while I was joyfully telling the world about our engagement, they were all seeing this? I had been a clown, performing for an audience that was in on the joke. The warmth in my chest turned to ice water. Sharp, painful, and cold. At that exact moment, a bucket of actual ice water drenched me from head to toe. Someone screamed. “She’s the homewrecker! Get her! Tear her apart!” A storm of pain and confusion engulfed me. I was surrounded. Garbage, smelling sour and rotten, rained down on me from all directions. They were yelling, shouting about “teaching the mistress a lesson.” I couldn’t fight back; I couldn’t even see where it was coming from. The world dissolved into a nightmare of snarling faces and grasping hands, demons dragging me down into hell. “Stop!” After what felt like a century, I finally heard Ethan’s voice. The taut string in my mind snapped. Everything went black. When I opened my eyes, I was staring at the sterile white ceiling of a hospital room. The shame of the attack washed over me again, and I gasped for breath, turning my head to look at Ethan. He was disheveled, his usual pristine appearance gone. His lips moved. “I’m sorry.” I didn’t know if he was apologizing because his fiancée had been mistaken for a mistress and beaten in the street, or because he’d let me live in the home he shared with another woman. But the tears came anyway, hot and unstoppable, streaming from the corners of my eyes into my hair. Ethan tried to wipe them away, but they just kept coming. 8 At first, he was composed, but soon he became flustered, his movements clumsy. “Please don’t cry, Tessa. Okay?” His voice was strained with a helpless frustration. “I know this was unfair to you. I’ll find a way to make it up to you.” I covered my eyes with my hand, my voice thick with congestion. “Make it up to me? How?” “We’ll make the wedding even bigger. A grander celebration. Would that be enough?” The flood of tears stopped as if a faucet had been turned off. I almost laughed. When I finally spoke, my voice was flat. “Ethan. Let’s cancel the wedding.” “Don’t say things you don’t mean,” he snapped, his tone hardening. In his mind, I was just throwing a tantrum. “I’m being—” Serious. Before I could finish, his phone rang. It was a different ringtone than his usual one. I couldn’t hear what was said, but his expression grew conflicted. He glanced at me. “You guys watch her. I have something here. I can’t leave right now.” He hung up and pressed his lips together. “Stop overthinking things. Just get some rest. I’ll stay here with you.” And he did. He answered three more calls, but he didn’t leave my room. He brought me water, adjusted my pillows, surprisingly attentive. But my mind was a chaotic mess. I couldn’t appreciate this rare display of care. I was just drifting off to sleep when my phone vibrated insistently on the nightstand. A text from an unknown number. “You think he’s staying because he’s worried about you? Because he cares? Take a look at this.” Attached were several screenshots of a group chat. The building’s homeowner chat. Someone had posted a photo of me, beaten and covered in garbage, with the words ‘HOMERWRECKER’ scrawled across it in red. Someone else had tagged Sienna. “Your husband is cheating on you. This is the other woman.” 9 Sienna hadn’t replied with words. Just a single, perfect broken-heart emoji. The chat exploded into a vicious tirade against me. I never knew words could inflict so much pain. Finally, Ethan, apparently pricked by some last shred of conscience, had typed: “She is not the other woman.” But his weak defense only fueled the fire. The insults grew harsher, and they started planning to “teach me another lesson.” Someone asked him directly: If I wasn’t the other woman, then what was Sienna? The argument escalated until they cornered him, demanding to know who his real wife was: Sienna, or me. The final screenshot was his answer. “The one whose name is on the deed, of course.” A deep, shuddering cold seized me. My entire body trembled. No wonder he had been so insistent on driving me home. No wonder he’d stayed with me even after Sienna’s calls. This entire nightmare… it all started with him. Eleven years of devotion, and in return, he personally pointed the finger and branded me the mistress. I thought I was past caring. I thought nothing he did could touch me anymore. But in that moment, a fire ignited in my chest, a wild, consuming rage that wanted to burn everything to the ground. Just then, Ethan walked back into the room. I stared at him, my eyes burning. “Ethan…” “Tessa, Sienna has alcohol poisoning. She’s getting her stomach pumped. I have to go check on her. You be good and get some rest.” “Ethan, don’t you dare leave.” Maybe he didn’t notice the raw fury in my voice. Or maybe he just didn’t care. He scowled, his voice dropping to an icy chill. “What more do you want? I’ve been here with you for hours. Isn’t that enough? Sienna’s condition is serious. I don’t have time for your games.” Without waiting for a reply, he strode out of the room. The door clicked shut, a final, definitive sound. It was the story of my life: always chasing after him, only to have him shut the door in my face, leaving me in the dark. The fire in my chest was instantly extinguished, leaving behind only cold ash. I let out a quiet, mirthless laugh, lay back down, and pulled the covers up to my chin. Soon. It would all be over soon. 10 Ethan was gone. He didn’t come back the next day. But I expected nothing, and the solitude was a relief. A little while later, a message from Sienna popped up on my phone. “Want to make a bet on whether your wedding will actually happen?” I smiled and typed back a quick reply. “No need to bet. The wedding will be a very lively affair.” “Good. I can’t wait to watch the show.” I turned off my phone and ignored her. After getting the official discharge papers from the doctor, I went straight to the police station and filed a report. No matter what Ethan had said, those people had no right to attack me. I didn’t go back to the apartment. I checked into a hotel. By the time I boarded the flight home, I still hadn’t heard from Ethan again. It was evening when the plane landed. The moment I turned my phone on, it rang. It was him. “Tessa, you’re out of the hospital and back home, right?” I wasn’t surprised he knew I’d been discharged. And I knew this wasn’t a call of concern. Based on how obsessed I’d always been with our wedding, he was absolutely certain that as long as I could walk, I would be at that altar on time. He had no doubts about that. I gave him a few vague answers and hung up. Looking up, I saw my grandfather waiting for me. His hair was whiter than I remembered, his frame a little more stooped. A lump formed in my throat. “Grandpa…” “Hey now,” he said, his voice cheerful, but his eyes were misty. “No tears. I’m here to take you home. This is a happy day!” When my parents died in the car crash, I was stuck overseas with Ethan. By the time we got back, they were already buried. I couldn’t forgive myself, but my grandfather never blamed me. He comforted me for months, encouraging me to go and find my own happiness. Looking back now, I saw how unbelievably selfish I had been. October 20th. An auspicious day for a wedding. I had consulted with several experts to pick the perfect date. When I’d asked Ethan for his opinion, he’d just said, “Whatever you want.” At the time, those words filled me with hope. I never would have dreamed that for our relationship, the wedding would be the end. The night before the ceremony, I stayed up all night, cozy in my hotel bed, and binged three movies. As dawn broke, I switched my phone to silent, found the most comfortable position I could, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. Today’s wedding was destined to be Ethan’s one-man show. I wondered what his face would look like when he realized I was gone.

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My five-dollar Uber Pool pulled up, and it was a Rolls-Royce. The girl next to me on the curb tilted her head, her smile bright and breezy. “Oh my god, so random! This is my boyfriend’s car.” Before I could respond, the man getting out of the driver’s seat stole my breath. He was immaculate in a tailored suit, his aura cool and commanding. He gently helped the girl into the passenger seat with a tenderness that made my stomach clench. Then, the man’s assistant, who had been trailing him, caught my eye. He looked terrified. “Ma’am…” he stammered, his voice barely a whisper. “Where… where are you headed?” I waved a dismissive hand, swallowing the words that were on the tip of my tongue: *“To the hospital, for my prenatal appointment.”* When I finally spoke, I could hear the slight tremble in my own voice. “The airport. Just take me to JFK.” * 1 My voice was so soft, I wasn’t sure anyone heard it. In the front seat, the girl was already gushing, pulling on the driver’s hand. “See? This is much better. I told you not to make a special trip just for me. Wasting gas is just silly, and besides, five bucks is enough for a coffee from a street cart. Plus—” She spun around in her seat, grinning at me. “I bet you’ve never been in a car like this before, right? It’s like a little peek into how the other half lives, lol.” I managed a weak smile, my eyes fixed on the rearview mirror, on him. On Ethan. His handsome features were as composed as ever, his expression unreadable. He gave a noncommittal “Mm,” his long, elegant fingers scrolling through something on his phone. He looked like a man closing a multi-million-dollar deal. Meanwhile, my own phone screen was lighting up with a series of texts from him. *Summer is very innocent. Don’t scare her.* *Don’t worry. This doesn’t change your position as Mrs. Vance. And because of that, I don’t want the family knowing about Summer’s existence.* *Your parents’ company is still dependent on my family’s backing. You’re not going to do anything irrational, are you, Lila?* I turned the screen off. Snapped my phone shut. When I looked up, my eyes met Ethan’s in the mirror. He was calm, tapping a rhythmic, impatient beat on the steering wheel with his perfectly manicured fingers. His voice, when he spoke, was cold as ice. “The passenger in the back, please fasten your seatbelt.” I didn’t say a word. I just stared at the pink, glittery sticker on the dashboard in front of the passenger seat. ♡ Summer’s Seat ♡ I let the bitter tide of acid rise in my throat, threatening to drown me. A few minutes later, my composure returned. I bought a one-way ticket to Fiji. 2 The entire way, Summer chattered on about her day at the office. When she got excited, she’d slap Ethan’s arm playfully. And Ethan, my cold, distant husband, didn’t flinch. He didn’t show a single ounce of impatience. In fact, the corner of his mouth was turned up in a faint, amused smile. I watched them like a ghost, an outsider in my own life. I couldn’t help but remember that with me, Ethan was always all business. Even planning our wedding felt like negotiating a corporate merger. We weren’t a husband and wife; we were two parties in a contract. Except… in bed. There, he became a different person. A predator. He would pin me down with hungry eyes, taking everything from me with a ferocity that was both terrifying and addictive. “Hey, you want a chip?” Summer’s sweet voice pulled me from my thoughts. I looked at her young, flawless face. The word *mistress* was on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it. “No, thank you.” “Oh, okay,” she said, then turned to offer the bag to Ethan. Realizing he was driving, she did something else. She put a potato chip between her own lips and leaned over, offering it to him. Ethan’s eyes flickered to the rearview mirror for a fraction of a second. His knuckles went white on the steering wheel. But he couldn’t resist her. His Adam’s apple bobbed. He leaned in and gently took the other half of the chip from her mouth with his own. I whipped my head around to stare out the window. I could hear Summer giggling, a little embarrassed. “Hehe, don’t mind us. We’re still in the honeymoon phase. Honestly, I didn’t even want to date before I was twenty-five, but he’s just… so good to me. He’s always secretly looking out for me at work so I don’t get bullied, and he comes whenever I call. It’s almost embarrassing. Today, for instance, I just had some bad period cramps, and he got so worried he dropped a huge meeting just to take me to the doctor…” “That’s nice,” I interrupted, my voice flat. “Hope you two live happily ever after.” Fighting back the wave of nausea and grief, I grabbed my phone and my purse. “I’m getting out here.” Summer looked surprised. “But you’re not at the hospital yet. I thought you were going to the same place as me?” I forced a smile. “Change of plans. My boyfriend just texted. He’s picking me up here.” 3 I didn’t expect him to follow me. Ethan got out of the car, towering over me on the sidewalk. “What was that about?” he demanded, his voice a low growl. I was genuinely confused. “What?” “‘Happily ever after.’ What the hell did you mean by that?” He glanced around, then grabbed my wrist, his face a mask of fury. “You know my parents will only ever accept you as their daughter-in-law. Are you saying that to mess with me?” I struggled, but his grip was like iron. His anger escalated. “Lila, this ‘boyfriend’ of yours is a lie, isn’t it? Because if there really is some other guy—” “You know what I’m capable of.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “What does it have to do with you? The first time we met, you said this was all for show, that we would lead separate lives…” “That was different.” Ethan was vibrating with a barely controlled rage. He looked like a caged animal. “Your family’s company was on the verge of collapse. You exist to serve a purpose in this transaction, and that means absolute obedience to me.” He sneered. “Or what, are you lonely? Do you need me to come home and take care of your needs?” As he spoke, his hand slid to my waist and he leaned in, his face just inches from mine— “What are you two doing?!” Summer was standing there, her eyes wide and red with tears. “You… you two…” She covered her mouth, her horrified gaze fixed on Ethan’s hand on my waist. The next second, she lunged. Her hand connected with my cheek in a stinging slap. 4 She looked so small and delicate, but the force of the blow sent me stumbling back. I instinctively clutched my stomach. “You are so shameless!” Summer shrieked, tears streaming down her face as she pointed a trembling finger at me. “No wonder you were being so weird and sarcastic in the car! You were trying to get with my boyfriend!” She was shaking with rage, planting herself in front of Ethan like a tiny bodyguard. “Just because you’re pretty, you think you can just seduce other people’s boyfriends? What are you, a public bus? You’re disgusting!” A moment ago, I had felt a sliver of pity for her. She was a victim in this too, kept in the dark. But now, seeing her witness Ethan’s aggression and still direct all her fury at me, something inside me turned to ice. My face went cold. “Did you know,” I said, my voice dangerously calm, “that your precious boyfriend is already married? “I’m his—” While she was still processing, I stepped forward and raised my hand to return the favor. But Ethan caught my wrist. He rubbed his temples, his voice laced with pure exasperation. “Enough! Look at yourself, Lila. Is this how the wife of a Vance is supposed to behave?” In that single, crystal-clear moment, the years of desperate, suffocating love I had felt for Ethan Vance vanished. It just… evaporated. 5 Summer was only stunned for a moment. She didn’t have the breakdown I expected. She just gently tugged on Ethan’s sleeve, her voice a pathetic whimper. “Is it her? Is she the one?” “You told me… you said it was just a family arrangement… that you hated your wife… you said you never even talk to her…” Her big, watery eyes looked up at Ethan, pleading for reassurance. But Ethan wasn’t looking at her. His gaze was fixed on my face, which I knew was rapidly losing its color. He looked… uneasy. After a long pause, he sighed, patting Summer’s arm dismissively. “The hospital is about a mile from here. I’ll call you a car.” Without another glance at her, he turned and grabbed my arm. “We’re going home,” he said coldly. “There’s a family dinner tonight.” I didn’t move. Ethan’s eyes flickered to the red mark on my cheek. He started to raise his hand, as if to touch it, then let it drop. He turned away, throwing the words over his shoulder. “Twenty million in venture capital for your parents’ company.” “It’s your choice.” I watched his tall, imposing figure walk away, and a profound sense of exhaustion washed over me. All those years of loving him, even marrying him… what had it gotten me? I bit my lip until I tasted blood. And I followed him. But as I walked, a new thought took root in my mind: *If I ran, would my parents ever forgive me?* 6 In the car, I didn’t try to fill the silence like I used to, desperately searching for topics to engage him. I just sat quietly in the back seat. I sent a text to an old college friend: *Something came up, can’t make it today. So sorry to waste your time.* He was a doctor and must have been busy. It was half an hour before he replied. *No problem. If it’s hard for you to get out, I can always make a house call.* I suddenly remembered Ethan’s snarling face, hissing about a “mystery man.” A shiver went down my spine. I quickly typed back: *No rush! We’ll reschedule soon.* After getting his reply, I turned off my phone and followed Ethan into the family mansion. I don’t know why, but my newfound silence seemed to annoy him more than my old clinginess. I thought about it. I probably ruined his day with Summer. For the first time ever, I tried to be the understanding wife. “It’s okay,” I said, my voice neutral. “You can find an excuse to leave early tonight.” I didn’t look at his stunned expression. I was too busy looking at my plane ticket on my phone and booking a hotel. “After all,” I added, “you’re the expert at soothing upset girls. A few flowers and a designer handbag should do the trick.” Ethan looked like he wanted to say something, but he just clenched his jaw. His face was thunderous. Finally, he let out a cold, humorless laugh. “What’s this? A new strategy?” “Let me guess. You encourage me to go see Summer, then you have a PI follow me, and then you cry to the whole family about what a terrible husband I am?” “How utterly predictable.” I blinked. Then I smiled a real, genuine smile. He wasn’t wrong. That was exactly the kind of desperate, crazy thing I would have done a week ago to try and keep him. But not anymore. I could only imagine how happy he’d be when he finally realized I was gone for good. 7 At dinner, my parents and Ethan’s parents were chatting warmly. Wine flowed, laughter filled the room. At the head of the table, Ethan and I ate in silence. It had always been like this. My mother and my mother-in-law were best friends from college. They’d made a pact that their children would marry. Life got in the way, and they lost touch for years. When they reconnected, my family’s business was on the brink of bankruptcy. Ethan’s mother, horrified, brought me into their home overnight and insisted on honoring their old promise. His father funneled a few major investments into our company and saved us. “Did Ethan do something to you again?” my mom whispered, pulling me into a powder room. I was confused. “What?” She sighed. “Lila, he doesn’t just offer twenty million dollars for no reason. Since he took over the company, has he ever been that generous with us? Never.” She stroked my hair, her eyes full of a pain I didn’t understand. “Did he hurt you?” “Oh, honey, why did you have to fall for him? There are so many good men in the world. If you wanted to…” “If I wanted a divorce,” I interrupted her softly, “would you and Dad be mad at me?” The happy chatter from the dining room seemed a world away. My mom’s eyes filled with tears. “Money?” she whispered, her voice thick. “What does money matter if our family isn’t okay? The only reason we even kept the business going was because you loved him, and we wanted to give you some kind of leverage, something to stand on. Honey, we would have sold it and retired years ago.” My cheek, the one Summer had slapped, started to burn. I leaned against my mother’s shoulder. “What if I told you… what if I told you I was pregnant with his child, and I was planning on raising it alone, never getting married again? Would you be mad at me then?” 8 After dinner, I didn’t stay the night with Ethan, despite my in-laws’ not-so-subtle encouragement. I chose to go home with my parents. Ethan was standing at the door, his expression unreadable. “Wait.” His voice stopped all of us. “I need to talk to you, so—” He never finished the sentence. His assistant came running up the long driveway, out of breath. “Mr. Vance, it’s Summer… she never went to the hospital this afternoon… she must have passed out from the pain at some point. Her neighbor just found her and she’s on her way to the ER now…” The assistant finally registered the audience standing in the grand entryway. He immediately fell silent, bowing his head in shame. Ethan’s father was the first to explode. “Who the hell is Summer? Why are you bothering us with this nonsense! Give her some money and get rid of her!” “Get the car,” Ethan said, his voice flat, as if he hadn’t heard a word. “I said, get the car. Are you deaf?” He ignored the shocked protests of his parents. He ignored the stony faces of my parents. He threw a single glance at me. “We’ll talk later,” he said, before striding off into the night. I didn’t care. I told my parents to focus on stabilizing the company. That night, I packed a single bag, and I left. I went to the airport, alone. I left in such a hurry, I forgot the one thing that mattered. I left the positive pregnancy report from my doctor sitting on the nightstand in my empty bedroom.

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