Category: English

In college, I messed things up with one of the wealthiest girls on campus. Three years later, after a burst pipe in my apartment, I headed to crash at my buddy’s place and accidentally climbed into the wrong bed—hers. She gave me this cool, mocking smile. “Oh? Thinking of rekindling old flames?” Panicked, I tried to leave, but she pulled me back. “What’s the rush? You’re here already.” In my dream, I held someone warm, soft, and close, her smooth skin beneath my fingertips. The moment was thrilling, almost real—until a sharp pain shot through my ear. I snapped awake, finding myself face-to-face with those unforgettable eyes and a pair of soft lips moving as if in slow motion. “Ethan Blake,” she drawled, “after all this time, you really choose this way to meet up? What, feeling nostalgic?” I was so spooked I grabbed my ear back and jumped out of bed, face flushing. Veronica Grant, my ex. How did I end up in bed with her? Her hair spilled across the pillow, and she was only wearing a thin silk tank top. She looked… stunning. I could barely get the words out. “Wha—what are you doing here?” She narrowed her eyes. “Funny, I was going to ask you the same thing.” All I wanted to do was bolt, but just as I tried, she gripped my arm. “What’s the rush? Here already, might as well stay.” How did I not know I’d climbed into my ex’s bed? My apartment’s pipes had burst late at night, and I went to crash at Nate’s place, trying not to wake anyone. But apparently, I ended up in the wrong room. The commotion woke up the house’s actual owner. Nate showed up in his pajamas, voice booming down the hall. “Ronnie, it’s the middle of the night! What’s going on?” When he saw me, his eyes went wide. “Dude, what are you doing here?” I chuckled nervously. “Pipes burst at my place. Needed a last-minute spot to crash.” Nate pulled me aside, shooting me a knowing look. “She’s my cousin, man. You two… in the same bed?” I wanted the earth to swallow me. Of all the people I wanted to avoid, Veronica was number one. This girl I’d once cared about more than anyone else… we’d just never had the right timing.

In college, Veronica was the school’s untouchable “ice queen.” I saw her at a club meeting one day and was smitten instantly. I heard she came from money and had pretty high standards. One day, she sprained her ankle in the locker room, limping out with her face scrunched in pain. I happened to be passing by, so I picked her up without thinking and carried her to the health center. After that, we became friends. Despite her icy reputation, she was surprisingly down-to-earth and forgetful, often texting me to help her pick up things she’d forgotten. She used to joke, saying I had to have a girlfriend to be so thoughtful. I’d laugh it off. “Nope, you’re the first.” She’d look at me with that spark in her eye and grab my hand. As we got closer, I learned that, aside from her looks, her “queen” status was tied to the world she came from—a circle of the ultra-wealthy that had little in common with mine. But she said she hated the fake world of high society and appreciated that I was just… real. It thrilled me. I introduced her to things I loved, like the best burger joint in town. When I earned a little money from helping professors with projects, I’d treat her to cheap-but-good eats. She’d sometimes offer to pay, but I’d wave it off. “Paying’s my job,” I’d say. “Leave it to me.” I might not be able to give her a life of luxury, but I wanted to give her my best. One night, as we stood in a quiet corner on campus, I couldn’t hold back anymore and kissed her. She kissed me back passionately. We were all wrapped up in each other for a while. It was just a regular relationship—one that didn’t survive the storms that followed.

One day, this guy named Brad Vaughn came up to me, looking all smug. “I’m her fiancé. You need to back off.” I stared at him, shocked. “She never mentioned she was engaged.” “Our families have an understanding. You’re not gonna be her boyfriend—ever.” “What can you give her, really? Just more baggage?” I didn’t buy it and argued back, but he just raised a brow. “Let me show you what her life’s like.” He dressed me up, convincing me to disguise myself, and took me to a mansion. Inside, she wore a gorgeous evening gown, hair up, mingling at a high-end gathering, all charm and poise. She moved through the room like a queen, flawless. And me? I looked down at my jeans and sneakers, feeling out of place. “See?” he said. “She’s up there. You’re down here, just a guy who took her out for cheap eats. She needs someone who can match her.” I bit back the urge to argue, though I insisted, “But she likes me.” Brad just laughed. “There are a bunch like you. Check her phone if you don’t believe me.” “She’s got people in her contacts divided by groups. Us, her circle, are in one group. You and others like you? You’re in another.” The next day, while she stepped away, I checked her phone. Sure enough, I was just a coded name in her contacts, lumped in with seven or eight others. When she came back, I asked, “You ever get bored with me?” She just gave a little smile. “No. I love being with you. You’re a break from the whole ‘perfect’ routine.” “And anyone else you feel that way with?” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “There are a few.” My heart sank. “Do you see me in your future?” “Of course! I want you by my side in the company. It’s like that new word everyone’s using—‘kept man.’ What do you think?” She gave me a playful grin, but I felt gutted. This wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted a partner, an equal. Finally, one evening after a sad movie, I had a moment of clarity. “Let’s break up.” She stared at me, shocked, then stubbornly agreed. “Fine. But don’t regret it.” When she texted me again, I blocked her. Just like that, three years passed, and I heard she moved abroad.

Nate’s jaw dropped. “Dude, you and my cousin… that’s why she was so down a while back. She locked herself in her room, barely talking to anyone.” I never imagined she’d be upset over me. I figured I was just another guy among those coded names on her phone. “Getting dumped sucks for everyone. It’s no big deal,” I shrugged. The next day, I was back to work, needing to find a plumber and get my apartment fixed. But I had to rush out for an important project meeting first. When my team arrived, who was there to meet us but Veronica herself. My heart froze, but there was no way out. “This project’s under a tight schedule,” she said, coolly professional. “We’ll need frequent meetings, and I’ll have to confirm some requirements with you directly.” I nodded. “Got it. We’re committed.” She turned to me. “Ethan, would you come to my office to discuss a few details?” I followed her in. Her office was elegant, with a clean, minimal style that didn’t quite match the carefree girl I used to know. Her business suit fit her perfectly, a picture of authority. She ran through the project, and I responded as best I could. Then, suddenly, she shifted the topic. “This project will mean late nights. Won’t your girlfriend mind?” I shook my head. For some reason, I couldn’t stop myself. “You’ll be working with us, too. Won’t your boyfriend mind?” She gave me a lazy smile. “Oh, he’s got a bit of a temper—pretty possessive.” I couldn’t help but think she meant Brad. A bitter feeling rose up in me. “Maybe you shouldn’t stay so late, then,” I muttered. “I can catch you up in the morning.” She studied me for a moment, then got up and sat right next to me.

I awkwardly scooted to the side, but she tugged my sleeve. “Why’d you block me? Can’t we at least stay friends?” I couldn’t meet her eyes, feeling a familiar ache. She leaned closer, her breath warm against my face. “Ethan, I—” Before she could finish, there was a knock. And in walked Brad. “Ronnie, sorry to interrupt. Didn’t know you had company.” He stopped, spotting me. “Well, if it isn’t Ethan Blake,” he sneered. “I hear you’re a project manager now. Impressive.” Seeing him made my stomach twist. He went over and put his arm around Veronica, pulling her close. “Dinner tonight, right? Got us a table.” He looked back at me. “Care to join?” I shot to my feet. “Sorry, I’ve got plans with my girlfriend.” Veronica’s eyes widened as I bolted out of there, Brad’s smug look following me. The frost I’d buried away all these years cracked wide open. That “girlfriend” I mentioned? Lindsey Hayes. Another college friend. She’d chased me back in school, but I’d brushed her off. Recently, her family’s company hired ours for a project, so I’d been on her turf for a few months. As the client, Lindsey kept setting up “team dinners,” always trying to get me tipsy and eyeing me like some prize. At that moment, she was my only escape.

I never expected that this project would put me face-to-face with Grant Industries—the company now headed by Veronica herself. I did everything I could to avoid her. If she didn’t specifically ask for me, I’d steer clear, and if she did, I’d bring a colleague along to minimize our one-on-one time. But I couldn’t ignore seeing Brad in her office. He showed up so often, just hanging around while we discussed work. Sometimes he’d even chime in on our meetings. Rumor around the office was that they were practically a couple. One night, I stayed late, trying to debug a line of code that refused to cooperate. I was so absorbed in my work that I didn’t hear her walk up until she handed me a cup of coffee. Startled, I jumped, accidentally spilling it all over her. Panicking, I grabbed a napkin and tried to clean up, my hands brushing over the thin fabric of her blouse. Realizing what I was doing, I jerked back and stood there like a kid caught doing something wrong. Veronica sighed. “Could you run downstairs and get me a change of clothes?” I hurried down to the 24-hour store on the corner, grabbing a blouse and pants. I hesitated, then threw in a set of undergarments, remembering the spill had soaked right through. When I handed her the bag, she looked at me, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “Remember my size? You haven’t noticed I might’ve changed a bit over the years?” I looked away, embarrassed. “Well, you’re still in good shape, but just to be safe, I went a size up.” After changing, she came back looking different—almost like the girl I used to know, the one who’d join me for late-night fries and laughs. Just as she was about to speak, my phone rang. “Yeah, I’ll be right there,” I replied, holding up my phone to show her. “Sorry, family emergency. Gotta run.” Without waiting for her response, I grabbed my bag and hurried out.

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During the summer of my sophomore year in college, my 58-year-old mom decided to undergo IVF treatment. She said she wanted to give me a little brother, someone I could rely on in the future. After I convinced her not to go through with it, my parents and my cousin became godparents to my little cousin, bought him a house and a car, but refused to spend a dime on me when I was critically ill in the ICU. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back at the Thanksgiving Family Dinner. This time, I smiled and said, “Whatever you and Dad think is best.” I woke up and realized I had returned to that Thanksgiving Family Dinner. Uncle Thomas, mouth full of food, was still going on about his outdated ideas. “I’m telling you, a man’s gotta have a son! No matter how good daughters are, they’re not going to be the ones carrying on your name, right?” He kept talking, saying that now the laws had relaxed, and with how advanced medical science had become, IVF was a great way to ensure a son and secure their legacy for old age. Most of the relatives thought he was joking. They tried to dissuade him. “You’re 65 now, Thomas. Your daughter has her own family and career. You’ll be holding grandkids soon enough, so why chase after all this drama?” Uncle Thomas stood his ground. “Grandkids? They don’t even have my last name! If I don’t have a son, the Cross family line ends with me!” My dad looked tempted. “You’ve got a point, but are you and Linda even still able to have kids at your age?” Uncle Thomas replied confidently, “I’ve done my research. The IVF technology today is incredible. Not only can you still have a kid, but you can make sure it’s a son!” Then he turned to me. “Hannah, wouldn’t it be great if your parents gave you a little brother? You wouldn’t have to worry about not having family to look out for you!” He had asked me the same thing in my previous life. I looked at my father, who was starting to get excited, and patiently explained. Older women face a higher risk of pregnancy complications like high blood pressure and gestational diabetes. Not to mention, as age increases, the quality of eggs and sperm deteriorates, making it more likely that the fertilized egg will have chromosomal abnormalities. Even if they managed to conceive, the baby would have a higher chance of being born prematurely or developing issues like cerebral palsy or neurological disorders. Dad stayed silent. Mom, who looked a little nervous, tugged on his sleeve and shook her head. With my reasoning, they let go of the idea of pursuing IVF. But Uncle Thomas? He was determined. Two years later, he proudly showed off his big baby boy, born through IVF, at the family reunion, grinning ear to ear as relatives congratulated him. “Little brother, don’t worry! Now that I’ve got a son, the Cross family won’t die out. Be good to your nephew, and maybe when he’s older, he’ll take care of you too!” He laughed, slapping my dad on the shoulder, completely ignoring the dark look that spread across my father’s face. From that day, Dad began subtly blaming me. He said I was selfish, afraid that having a brother would mean sharing the inheritance, so I convinced him not to have one. Mom, too, resented me, saying I’d scared her with all that talk about the risks of having kids at her age, pointing out how Uncle Thomas and Aunt Linda’s son was perfectly healthy. They couldn’t comprehend the concept of probability. All I could do was silently endure their criticism. I thought that in time, my actions would prove to them that it didn’t matter whether they had a son or daughter. But what I didn’t expect was for them to start frequenting the hospital, trying to have a son just like Uncle Thomas. After numerous rounds of hormone treatments and egg retrieval attempts, they finally had to face the truth: Mom’s eggs were no longer viable. I thought that was the end of it. But then, I was in a car accident, left critically injured in the ICU, waiting for them to pay for the life-saving treatment. That’s when I found out the truth. They had made my three-year-old cousin, Nathan, their godson, using all their savings to buy him a house near Cedar Hills Elementary School. They didn’t pay a single cent towards my medical bills. Not even a visit. In my last phone call with them, their cold, heartless words became the final straw that broke me. “Stop calling us so much. We’re busy dropping off your little brother at daycare!” “You’re practically dead already. Don’t waste our money—we need it for Nathan!” So, they had abandoned me. Thinking of all this, I turned to Uncle Thomas with a smile and said, “You’ve lived long enough to know best, Uncle Thomas. Of course, Mom and Dad should make the decision.” He was pleased with my response and patted Dad’s shoulder, laughing. “Hannah is much more sensible than my daughter. How about this—we brothers can both go for another kid, and maybe I can even get the hospital to give us a discount!” Well, let’s see how that ‘precious son’ of yours takes care of you in your old age this time.

After the dinner ended, Mom and Dad held a family meeting back at home. “Hannah,” Dad started, snubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray. “Your uncle said IVF will cost about $100,000 altogether, and if we want to guarantee it’s a boy, we’ll need to pull some strings, which might push it to $150,000. Your mom and I don’t have much savings, but we can scrape enough together for that. From next semester on, you’ll need to handle your own living expenses.” I didn’t reply right away. I glanced over at Mom, who was busy listening to a voice message on her phone. She set her phone down, her face serious. “I asked some friends. Since you’re a med student, you’ll be doing a hospital internship in your junior year, right? You’ll get a stipend. You’re in school all the time anyway, so you won’t need much money. Don’t add more burden to us.” “And besides,” she added, “we’re spending this money now so we can give you a brother. When he grows up, you’ll have someone from the family to rely on!” I nearly laughed out loud. How could they expect me to rely on a child when I couldn’t even count on my own parents? In my previous life, they feared the risks I’d mentioned and didn’t go through with IVF. But they held onto their resentment. After that Thanksgiving dinner, they cut off my living and tuition funds, claiming they needed to save for retirement. At the time, I thought they were just angry for a while. After all, I was their daughter, the one they had raised for twenty years. To make ends meet, I worked part-time during the day and tutored kids at night. My grades plummeted, and I almost flunked out by the end of the semester. This time, I wouldn’t let history repeat itself. I smiled and nodded. “Got it. I hope everything works out for you.”

A few days after returning to school, Mom called. “Hannah, your dad and I went to the hospital today. The doctor said your father’s sperm is still okay, even though the DNA fragmentation and abnormality rates are a little high. But my eggs aren’t great. We’ll need third-generation IVF, which will cost even more.” “So, try to pick up more tutoring jobs or a part-time waitress gig. Save up some money and send it to me. Your aunt told me I should be eating health foods like those organic smoothies to improve my eggs.” It was just like last time. When I had refused to let her go through with IVF, she’d constantly called me, complaining about headaches or fevers, and demanded that I work more to send her money for supplements. I had sympathized with her then, figuring Dad’s old-fashioned ways left her feeling unsupported. I always found a way to send her money, no matter how tight things were for me. But now, I stretched, feeling no such sympathy, and replied casually, “Mom, I have way more coursework this year and barely any time for a side job. And at the hospital, they only give us free housing and meals—no pay. I’m almost out of money myself. Can you send me $500?” Her voice became evasive. “Oh, well, I don’t have any money either! Your dad controls the finances, and it’s all going towards the IVF. If you need money, talk to him!” Before I could say anything else, she hung up. I set my phone aside and got back to my PowerPoint. After all, my new hustle of creating medical case presentations was bringing in $500 a pop.

Mom still got her organic smoothies. She took pictures of it from every angle, posting a nine-grid photo collage to her Instagram account: “Thanks to my wonderful Thomas for buying me this special smoothie! My son will definitely make it into my womb now!” She promised to take good care of her health and soon give my father the son he needed to carry on the Cross name. In the comments, some people congratulated her, while others weren’t so kind. “Aren’t you almost 60? Why go through all this?” “No offense, but your husband’s 62 too. There’s no way the kid will be healthy at your age.” Mom, furious, blocked them and swore she’d give birth to a healthy son. I quietly liked the post and turned off my phone. This was only the beginning.

Over the next two months, Mom was constantly posting updates in the family group and on her social media. “Went to the hospital for bloodwork today. They took tube after tube, but it’s all worth it for my future son!” “Starting the hormone shots today. Gotta eat more meat and keep my strength up so I can get some good eggs!” “Finally doing the egg retrieval! Wish me luck!” After that last post, her updates suddenly stopped. Three days later, I received a video call from her. On the other end of the call, her face was pale, and she looked both angry and confused. Seeing her like that, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pity. “Mom, what happened? You don’t look well.” Tears started streaming down her face. “Hannah, what am I supposed to do?” “The doctor said my eggs are completely useless! That egg retrieval needle—do you know how long it was? Thirty centimeters! Your dad didn’t want to pay for anesthesia, so I went through the whole thing wide awake! It was more painful than when I gave birth to you!” “I suffered through all that, and then they told me my eggs are no good! But your Aunt Linda is three years older than me, and her eggs were just fine. Why?!”

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My fiancé, Caleb, was diagnosed with late-stage cancer just before we were to be married. Lying in that hospital bed, he and his mother pleaded with me to give him a child, a continuation of his legacy. Feeling moved by our three years together, I agreed and soon became pregnant. But I never expected that he’d want a final rush of wild freedom, hoping to fill the world with his own descendants. My name is Lila Caldwell. I’m twenty-one, freshly graduated from college, and just wrapped up a three-year relationship with my boyfriend, Caleb Northwood. We were finally ready to walk down the aisle. Caleb and I couldn’t have been from more different worlds. My family was modest—humble even. My passion and violin skills helped me land a place at Huntington College of Music on a scholarship. Caleb, four years older than me, came from a wealthy background and had already started his own small business. After one of my school performances, he introduced himself, charmed, and asked for my contact information. From that moment on, he pursued me with an intense passion. It didn’t take long for me to fall for him—who could resist a handsome, well-off guy who seemed to have it all? My parents, always straightforward and unpretentious, adored him. They couldn’t stop praising my “well-matched” engagement, convinced that I was lucky to be “marrying up.” They didn’t even ask for any financial support from his family. But just as we were sending out wedding invitations, Caleb, after years of dining out and hosting endless business events, was admitted to the hospital with severe abdominal pain. And that’s when everything fell apart. The biopsy results came back, confirming late-stage colorectal cancer. I sat by his hospital bed, clutching Caleb’s thin, frail hand, sobbing uncontrollably. The doctors had done a minimally invasive biopsy, so his abdomen was tender, and he had an oxygen tube up his nose, looking pale and pitiful. Seeing my tears, he reluctantly reached out and touched my face with his rough, trembling fingers, trying to comfort me. “Lila, please, don’t cry,” he whispered. “This might be better. After all, we haven’t tied the knot yet… this won’t keep you from meeting someone new. You’re still ‘single’ on paper—that’s good, right?” I shook my head fiercely, nearly shattered by the shock of his words. We had planned to get married next month. It seemed impossible to me that such cruel news could be true. “No,” I insisted. “I only want you. Just stay with the doctors, and you’ll get better—I know it.” It was a feeble attempt at comforting him because I’d already been told he might have a year left at most. He didn’t respond, just brought my hand to his parched lips, brushing a kiss across my fingers. I forced myself to smile, trying to keep my tears in check as I whispered, “Remember? You promised we’d go to Vienna and hear the Philharmonic perform once you were better. We’ll make it our honeymoon.” Even as I said it, I knew it was just wishful thinking. But I couldn’t stop myself from dreaming out loud. Beside us, his mother, Margaret, stood by the bed, usually glamorous but now looking worn down from tears. She’d fainted more than once since hearing the diagnosis. “Lila,” Caleb’s faint voice came again. “After I’m gone… marry someone good. My mom has my brother, and she’ll be fine, but I worry about you the most.” It was heartbreaking to realize that even now, he was still thinking of me before himself. I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. Feeling the weight of his hopelessness, I finally broke down, sobbing over the bed. After some time, when I had calmed a little, I whispered softly, “Do you have any other wishes? Whatever time we have, I’ll do anything to make it come true.” He hesitated for a long moment before speaking in a low, raspy voice. “Lila, I love you more than anything. My one regret… is that we won’t get to have a child together.” I froze, feeling tears catch on my cheeks. Because of my upbringing, Caleb and I hadn’t been intimate, even after three years of dating. So, did he mean he wanted me to have his child? Caleb looked at me tentatively, his expression both pitiful and vulnerable. “If you could… the child would stay with my mom. I’d arrange everything so they’d inherit my share of the company. No one else would ever need to know about it.” His request hit me like a punch. I was only twenty-one, and I’d been planning to go to Austria for music school in a few months. Just then, his mother, Margaret, broke down into sobs, falling to her knees in front of me. I was startled, rushing to help her up, but she gripped my hands, her face wet with tears, and begged, “Lila, I know you’re a kind woman. Please say yes to Caleb’s last wish. It would give us something to live for after he’s gone. I’m begging you…” I looked over at Caleb, feeling conflicted. Honestly, I didn’t want to bring a child into the world who’d grow up without a father. His expression was filled with quiet desperation, as though asking, “Lila, isn’t our love worth leaving a legacy behind?” “Lila, this child won’t ever hold you back in life. I promise. After the baby’s born, Caleb’s father and I will make sure you’re set for the future.” I admit, I was young and deeply emotional, and Caleb’s suffering overwhelmed everything else in my mind. So, in a moment of weakness, I agreed. Caleb pulled me into a tight hug, resting his hand on my stomach, as though he already felt a piece of himself growing there. After his insistence, Caleb was discharged early, and he planned for us to stay nearby at Blue Ridge Springs Resort, his idea of a honeymoon to start a family. I suggested getting legally married, but he cut me off sternly, saying it would only complicate my future. “I’ll never let us get legally bound,” he insisted. A flash of doubt crossed my mind—was it possible he didn’t want me to have any claim to his inheritance? But I quickly dismissed the thought. I could feel he was sincere. He kept mentioning how he’d make sure I was financially secure after the baby was born. Though money didn’t matter to me, I was moved by his thoughtfulness. On the third day, hiding the truth about his illness from my parents, I joined him at the resort. When the time came, I was nervous, deeply uncomfortable with the strange blend of duty and sacrifice rather than pure love. My first time was painful and unsettling, and he barely noticed, caught up in his own needs. Afterward, he even told me to lie on my back against the wall for half an hour to “help with conception.” We stayed at the resort for a few days. Caleb was surprisingly optimistic, even comforting me whenever I worried about his illness. “Lila, don’t be scared,” he’d say, “I’ve accepted things. Living is all about enjoying what you have.” So, I stayed true to my promise, never using protection. Sometimes, when his illness faded into the background, his energy made him seem almost healthy. Yet, his thinning hair from chemotherapy was a reminder that cancer’s grip was unrelenting. Finally, after weeks of effort, I stared down at the test stick in my hands. It showed two lines—I was pregnant. But instead of feeling joy, I felt a hollow ache. I could only sigh. I hoped he’d realize that I wasn’t doing this for any financial gain but out of love. His condition worsened quickly after that, and the hospital visits became frequent until the day he never left again.

After confirming my pregnancy, Margaret’s attention only grew, and she even hired a caregiver to help me. “Lila, that baby in your belly is all Caleb has left,” she’d say. “You have to take care of yourself.” Still, I took it upon myself to look after Caleb, making soups and stews to encourage his appetite. Years of growing up without much had made me resourceful in the kitchen. That day, I cooked corn and rib soup from scratch, as I always did, and brought it to him in the VIP ward on the top floor of St. Mary’s Medical Center. The VIP ward was fitting for Caleb’s family’s status. It was lunchtime, and the floor was silent, sunlit hallways stretching before me as I walked toward his room, carrying the food. Though I had given up on my dream of studying in Austria and a future in music, I felt no regrets. I was doing it for love. But as I approached the door, I heard something odd—soft voices from within the room. I froze, pressing my ear to the door. The voice was unmistakably his. He’d removed his oxygen tube, whispering intimately to someone I couldn’t see. “…Jenny, give me one last chance. Have my child, my last hope,” he pleaded breathlessly.

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Title: What’s It Like to Have a Jerk for a Boyfriend? In chick lit, there’s a cliche called “replacement love.” It’s when the male lead, missing someone he loves, finds a girl who looks just like her. Unbelievably, I ended up as the unlucky woman studying abroad, only to be cheated on. My first boyfriend couldn’t dodge the cheesy plot; he started dating someone who looks a lot like me. When I came back to town, he brought his new girlfriend to my welcome home party. Friends from our circle were all waiting to see me flustered. They were in for a surprise though, as I brought my new boyfriend back as well. The day Kai Dawson broke up with me, he sent a text: “Sorry, Sue. I broke my promise. I don’t want to wait anymore.” At that time, I still had a year left in school. We had survived three years long-distance, but our relationship fell apart in the last year. He had shown signs of losing interest, so I wasn’t too surprised. Swallowing my sadness, I replied: “It’s okay, let’s just be friends.” “Alright.” But later, I found out he had blocked me. A good ex is like being dead. I didn’t blame him and just blocked him back. Before returning from Italy, some old friends insisted on throwing me a welcome back party. They didn’t tell me that Kai and his new girlfriend would be there. Luckily, my best friend couldn’t stand it and tipped me off. “Sue, don’t go! They just want to humiliate you! Kai’s new girl is afraid he might still have feelings for you, so she demanded this party to show off.” I shrugged off her concern, “Aside from them, there are other people I haven’t seen in a while. I’ll just give them face and show up.” “It’s all Kai’s buddies. I wish I could be there to support you. Don’t let them get to you!” “Thanks for the heads-up. If someone’s set the stage for me, I can’t let them down. Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan.” The day I returned, I went to the party as planned. The waiter opened the private room door, and the first person I saw was Kai, sitting at the head of the table. A year hadn’t changed his good looks and confident demeanor. Next to him sat a stunning woman, his new girlfriend Evelyn, a recent hire at Kai’s company. She bore an uncanny resemblance to me. My heart tightened at the sight. I remembered two years ago when Kai sent me a picture of Evelyn. “A new recruit came in for an interview today. She startled me; I thought you had snuck back to surprise me.” Back then, Evelyn looked even more like me—same hairstyle, makeup, and fashion sense. I laughed it off, joking, “Maybe we’re related. I need to ask my dad.” Kai said, “No, she’s not. She’s from out of town, her parents are alive, and she has a twin brother who looks nothing like her.” “You checked into her background?” “Of course, we need to know about new hires.” Who would’ve thought that the girl I didn’t think twice about would replace me so completely? Back in the present, Kai’s friend Finn stood up. “Welcome back, Sue. It’s great to have our star back…” His voice trailed off as everyone looked at the man behind me. I greeted them calmly: “It’s been a while. Thanks for remembering me.” Finn forced a laugh and asked, “Sue, who’s this? Aren’t you going to introduce him?” Stepping aside, I proudly introduced, “This is Gareth Kirby, my boyfriend.” The word ‘boyfriend’ made everyone’s eyes widen in surprise. Gareth flashed his dazzling smile, showing off two cute dimples: “Good evening, everyone. I’m honored to be here with you tonight.” Gareth is incredibly handsome, and his smile had an explosive effect. The ladies were openly staring. One girl with long black hair exclaimed, “Wow, Sue, your boyfriend is too gorgeous!” The others quickly followed: “He’s unfairly handsome! Is Gareth a model or an actor?” Before I could answer, Gareth chimed in sweetly, “Thank you for the compliment, but you’re all very beautiful too. Just call me Gareth.” Not only is he good-looking, but he’s also charming. The crowd that was waiting to mock me had their focus entirely captured by Gareth. Even Evelyn couldn’t help but sneak glances at him. Kai’s face darkened, and he said sternly: “Let’s all sit down and chat. No need to stand around.”

As Kai spoke, the chatter died down. The waiter added an extra seat, and Gareth and I sat closely together. Once seated, I began introducing Gareth to everyone at the table. Tonight was supposed to revolve around me, but everyone was now completely fixated on Gareth. Gareth had been studying in France since middle school. He’s naturally outgoing and sociable, so I wasn’t worried about him being out of place. The girl with the long straight hair teased me, “Sue, you really kept this one under wraps, didn’t you? Secretly got yourself a new boyfriend.” Her words carried a bit of edge, and I saw some people’s eyes dart between me, Kai, and Evelyn with curiosity. I smiled softly and said, “Well, life is all about moving forward, isn’t it?” Over on the other side, Evelyn shyly leaned closer to Kai. “What’s wrong?” Kai asked, genuinely concerned. “Just a bit tired from filming a late-night scene last night…” Evelyn said, trying to muster a smile, “I’ll be fine. I’ll just take a nap in the car later.” Kai’s concern was palpable, “Eat something and I’ll take you home to rest.” He urged everyone, “Let’s order some food.” Someone teased, “Mr. Dawson is such a doting boyfriend.” “With a girlfriend as beautiful as Evelyn, who wouldn’t be?” Evelyn bashfully hid her face in Kai’s shoulder, “Stop teasing me…” I could feel some probing eyes on me, waiting for my reaction. Inside, a mix of bitterness and sadness churned, but I didn’t let it show. It stung to see my longtime boyfriend with someone who was essentially my replacement, flaunting their affection right in front of me. The feeling of being outdone by a knockoff version was humiliating. “Doting boyfriend? Really?” I thought to myself. The deep affection he once showed me could transfer so easily to someone else. I couldn’t tell if that was my tragedy or his. Finn politely offered me the menu, spinning it on the lazy Susan toward me. Trying to keep my composure, I said graciously, “I’m not familiar with this restaurant. Why don’t you all order what you like? This meal is on me, so go ahead and pick anything.” Kai replied indifferently, “This place is members-only. I’ll cover it through my membership.” I smiled politely, “Thank you, Mr. Dawson. Let’s have me host next time.” Gareth, without hesitation, picked up the menu and whispered in my ear, “Sue, what’s this chicken dish with sea cucumber?” “It’s a beauty-boosting dish. Want to try it?” “I’d like to.” He kept pointing out dishes and asking me about them, and I patiently explained everything I knew. Our heads were so close together it was almost like we were whispering secrets. The long-haired girl couldn’t help but ask, “Gareth, are you younger than Sue?” Without hesitation, I answered, “Yes, Gareth is six months younger than me.” The ladies chimed in with enthusiastic comments: “A younger boyfriend, how intriguing!” “Young and full of energy!” I overheard Kai’s friends whispering in Glaswegian dialect, perhaps thinking Gareth wouldn’t understand them: “A pretty boy hired to play the part?” “Must be, just to annoy Kai…” “I thought she had moved on. He’s just a kept man.” “Pride can be a heavy burden.” Disrespectful, regardless of whether it was true. Kai likely heard them, too. His lips curled into a mocking smile as he glanced at Gareth with disdain. Evelyn softly asked, “Kai, do you like younger women too?” Kai’s response was thinly-veiled disdain, “No. I’m a bit old-fashioned; I need a woman younger than me.” Clearly a jab at me, but I bit my tongue, forcing myself not to react. Gareth, oblivious or simply unbothered, kept browsing the menu. He saw a sea cucumber soup and said to one of the whispering guys, “Dougie, how about I order you some sea cucumber soup?” Dougie, trying to be polite, replied, “No, thank you, that’s too much…” Gareth smiled sweetly, “You’ve got dark circles and grey around your lips. Might be kidney issues. Sea cucumber is quite nourishing.” No man wants to hear that, and Dougie’s face turned several shades at once. He rushed to deny it, “I don’t have kidney issues!” Gareth, with unflinching innocence, said, “Your dull, oily skin and red nose suggest hormonal imbalance. You should see a specialist.”

Poor Dougie looked like he was about to explode from embarrassment, unable to come up with a retort. I playfully scolded Gareth, “Gareth, Dougie’s girlfriend would know if he had such issues. No need for you to worry.” Dougie’s girlfriend, caught in the awkwardness, took a sip of water. Gareth quickly apologized, “Sorry, Dougie, I didn’t mean to be so blunt. I know you won’t take it to heart, right?” What could Dougie say? He could only stew in his own frustration. The long-haired girl, enjoying the drama, asked, “Gareth, can you diagnose us too?” “I wouldn’t say diagnose. My grandpa’s an internist, so I picked up a bit here and there,” Gareth downplayed his knowledge, then dropped another bomb on the second whisperer, “Mr. Newman, your sparse facial hair but thick head hair is typical of someone wearing a wig.” Newman had long dealt with premature balding, always hiding it with a wig—it wasn’t a secret, but it wasn’t talked about either. A few people couldn’t hold back their laughter. Newman’s smile disappeared, his tone becoming hostile, “What’s your point?” Gareth feigned surprise, “Oh? Did I say something wrong? I thought it was a wig. It’s so realistic; I was going to recommend it to my uncle. My bad. It’s real hair?” Newman, who hated any mention of his wig, almost lost it. He was about to lash out when I softly reiterated in dialect, “Pride can be a heavy burden.” Newman swallowed his retort, simmering in anger. Gareth, all innocence, asked, “Sue, what did you just say?” I smiled, “Nothing, let’s order.” Food finally arrived, and Gareth and I played the perfect hosts, urging everyone to dig in. Evelyn tenderly peeled shrimp for Kai, and Gareth cut my steak. They flaunted their affection, and we flaunted ours. Everything seemed fine until one troublemaker couldn’t keep his mouth shut. A guy with glasses said snidely, “It’s a new world where men are doing women’s work now, huh?” He then praised Kai, “Kai made the right call, choosing a gentle, traditionally-minded girl.” But before Kai could respond, the long-haired girl scoffed, “So, are you looking for a girlfriend or a maid?” Another short-haired woman chimed in, “Do you think women exist to serve you?” I smiled softly, “It’s not the Victorian era anymore.” That guy quickly became the enemy of all the women at the table. Trying to salvage his standing, he backpedaled. “Just joking. No need to be so sensitive.” Gareth, with a big grin, added, “In my family, it’s normal for men to take care of women. My mom never has to peel shrimp; my dad always does it for her. Now, even in her fifties, her hands are still soft and pretty.” Gareth peeled a shrimp in a few swift motions, removing the vein and placing it in my bowl. I smiled and thanked him. The long-haired girl chimed in, “Gareth and his dad are the real doting men here. Actions over words any day.” Kai’s face showed a hint of discomfort, and even Evelyn looked awkwardly at their half-eaten shrimp. The meal turned out to be more comfortable than I’d anticipated. Watching my ex with his new girlfriend wasn’t as painful as I’d feared. On the way back, I gazed pensively out at the night. Gareth tried to lighten the mood, “Sue, did I do alright today?”

I laughed softly, “You did amazingly well, even better than I thought you would.” “Of course! How could I let you down?” Gareth replied confidently. “By the way, do you actually understand that Glaswegian dialect?” I asked, clearing up a nagging question in my mind. “Yup,” Gareth said, puffing out his chest with pride, “I know four languages and fifteen dialects.” He started listing off, almost like showing off a treasure, “Scottish, Irish, Gaelic… I know them all.” I sighed, “You’re really something else. Being an actor is actually an understatement.” “Nah, it’s not easy being an actor either,” Gareth replied humbly. He was also an artist signed to my company. We were college mates; I studied economics, and he went to the art school. Gareth, tall and handsome with an extroverted personality, loved performing. He had experience in theater and was pretty popular on social media, making him a minor celebrity abroad. Several talent agencies had tried to sign him, and he was keen on breaking into the domestic entertainment industry. Hearing my family’s business was a film investment company, Gareth approached me. My company rarely signed new talent, preferring seasoned actors from prestigious acting schools. Despite his impressive resume, Gareth was still considered a rookie. But I needed a good-looking and talented actor to deal with Kai and the gang upon my return, so we struck a deal. Gareth said sweetly, “If you ever need me to act again, just let me know.” “Thanks, but you should focus on your career,” I replied, putting on a serious face. “I treat you the same as any other employee. I hope you earn your place at the company through your own merit.” “Yes, ma’am!” Gareth gave me a playful salute. Once home, freshly showered and ready for bed, my best friend Lily sent me a voice message: “Hey, I heard you brought a new boyfriend?! When did that happen?” I could practically see her eyes shining with gossip through the phone. I gave her a rundown of what happened. Lily chuckled, “So, you hired an actor? That’s smart. He’s handsome and charming. Who knows, maybe sparks will fly for real.” I sighed, “I don’t mix work with personal life. It’s just messy.” “True, power dynamics can get weird. But are you sure he doesn’t have other motives?” Lily interrupted herself, “Susan told me your ‘boyfriend’ roasted Kai’s friends to a crisp! Too bad I missed it!” Susan was the long-haired girl from dinner. “He’s quick-witted and has a sharp tongue…” I was saying when a friend request popped up on my phone: Evelyn. Kai’s new girlfriend wanted to add me? I was puzzled. She must’ve gotten my contact from Finn. After a few seconds of thought, I accepted. Back in the chat, Lily asked, “Still there?” “Yeah, Evelyn just added me.” “😲 What’s she want?” “No idea, maybe she has something to say?” “Drama queen.” Evelyn soon sent a greeting, to which I politely responded with a smiley emoji. Then she sent a video. In the dim light, I could see a shirtless Kai, snoring and sprawled on a pillow, with someone’s bare arm in the shot. Disgust hit me like a wave, making me feel sick. Evelyn texted: “Kai’s snoring is so loud. Was he always like this? He won’t sleep without hugging me; it gets so hot and sticky…”

Lily wasn’t wrong; Evelyn was a drama queen. Unsure how to respond, I exited the chat. Out of sight, out of mind. Lily was still curious, “Why did she add you? Did she say anything?” I sent her the video and our chat. Lily exploded, sending a barrage of memes: “Is she insane?” “I’ve never seen anyone so shameless!” “Evelyn’s crazy!” I replied, “I think I’ll just delete her.” “Don’t! She’ll think she scared you off. Keep her around. Let’s see what other stunts she tries to pull.” “Okay, I’m off to bed. You should rest too.” “You can sleep after that? That girl’s nuts! Kai’s a fool for cheating on you for her.” “Seeing them together today, I was sad. But now, I feel relieved. Once a cheater, always a cheater. Thanks to Evelyn, I see Kai clearly now.” Lily said, “You’re so chill. I’d be cussing both of them out!” I sent her a meme saying “I’m eerily calm right now.” “Don’t waste your energy on people who don’t deserve it,” I advised. Evelyn didn’t provoke me again, though she often posted lovey-dovey pictures of her and Kai in her Moments, all of which were only visible to me. Realizing this, I decided to block her. Back to Gareth, he officially joined my company as a signed actor. The company planned to film a spy drama “Misty Mist,” and I secured a role for Gareth as the third male lead. He was thrilled. “Sue, I’ve read the script. My part isn’t huge, but it’s a powerful role.” I encouraged him, “Do well, and you can aim for movies. Your career could skyrocket.” Most lead roles were taken by acclaimed actors, promising mutual success for the film. But a month before shooting, the female lead was replaced by none other than Evelyn. As a producer, I was the last to know. The investor’s representative apologetically explained, “Mr. Dawson insisted Evelyn play the role. He really wants her in this project. We hope you’ll understand.” With financial backing from Kai’s company, I had little choice. Complaining would be futile. I felt disheartened but professional, “Tell Mr. Dawson that any breach of contract fees must also be covered.” The rep readily agreed, “Of course, Mr. Dawson will handle all costs.” So, it was settled. With the closed training and filming schedule, Gareth would be in the crew for nearly half a year. I was increasingly busy and rarely had time to check in with him. Two months into filming, Gareth messaged me, “Sue, can you come visit me on set?”

I replied cheerfully, “I’d been planning to come visit you all anyway. See you in a few days.” Gareth was over the moon, his excitement so evident as he said, “Really? That’s awesome! I can’t wait!” I knew why he wanted me to come. Apparently, Kai had recently visited Evelyn on set. I chuckled, “Whatever other kids get, you’ll get too.” “Thanks, Sue!” As the weather turned colder, I made sure to bring hot drinks for the entire crew when I visited the set. Gareth was still in costume from his scene, wearing a perfectly tailored 1930s military uniform that made him look dashing and charismatic. Seeing me, Gareth lit up like a lost puppy reunited with his owner, practically wagging his tail. I patted his head and then his shoulder. Though Gareth was only six months younger than me, our dynamic often felt like… well, parent and child? Owner and pet? Today, some media were also on set for interviews. After gulping down his hot coffee, Gareth was pulled aside by the director for a press interview. He and Evelyn sat together on camera, mics in hand. After some standard questions, the reporter targeted Gareth: “As newcomers, what do you two think of each other’s performances?” Evelyn turned on her performance mode and said with exaggerated sweetness, “Gareth is great with everyone; he’s charming and always knows how to make people smile. Everyone adores him. Our producer even came today just to see him. I’ve heard Gareth was a personal recommendation by our producer, and they’re college mates. I’m sure he has qualities that really stand out, which is why the producer took special interest in him.” Evelyn was just a step away from saying Gareth got his role by cozying up to the boss. It’s true I was promoting Gareth, but he had the talent to back it up. And let’s not forget Evelyn was only here because Kai paid big bucks to get her in. Pot calling the kettle black! The reporter chuckled awkwardly and turned to Gareth, “Gareth, what do you think of Evelyn?” Gareth flashed an impish grin, “I admire Evelyn a lot. She’s come up with a brilliant way to remember her lines. She gets her assistant to write them all on big cue cards and reads off them during scenes. It’s genius! Saves so much time on memorizing. Why didn’t I think of that? Gosh, I’m really slow!” His words dripped with sarcasm, leaving Evelyn fuming and forcing a smile. The awkward tension was palpable, with some crew members stifling laughter. Evelyn forced a laugh, “That’s not true… I only use the cards as a backup. I don’t really look at them during takes…” Gareth didn’t let up, “Oh, I’m just bad at memorizing, so I use my meal breaks to study my lines. Not like Evelyn, who’s both beautiful and clever. She spends her breaks video chatting with her boyfriend. So sweet and enviable…” Gareth pretended to be shocked, covering his mouth, “Wait, was I not supposed to say that? Can we cut that part out?” Evelyn’s face turned green, her eyes rolling in exasperation. The reporter quickly changed the subject, trying to steer the interview back on track. Media folks know better than to air dirty laundry that tarnishes everyone involved. Sometimes, it takes a real jerk to beat another jerk at their own game. Internally, I rated Evelyn: “Prideful but clueless, daring to mess with Gareth—good luck!” In the entertainment industry, actors pulling each other’s hair in private isn’t unheard of. Companies usually don’t step in unless things get out of hand. But some folks just can’t let things go. Not long after, I attended a business event with my brother and ran into Kai. Pulling me aside, he got straight to the point: “You need to consider enrolling your little boyfriend in manners classes, teach him some etiquette.”

His snide tone made it clear Evelyn had complained to him, and Kai was here to defend his precious girl. I crossed my arms, unbothered, “Mr. Dawson, if you have something to say, say it straight. Where did you pick up this passive-aggressive attitude?” Kai looked a bit embarrassed but quickly regained his composure, “Evelyn truly loves this project. I helped her secure the main role because of that. Since you agreed to let her participate, don’t make things difficult for her. I always considered you a reasonable person. Don’t ruin that impression.” I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. For heaven’s sake, who’s making things difficult? I had better things to do. And it was Evelyn who started it, Gareth merely retaliated. But expecting Kai to be objective was wishful thinking. Defending your girl is natural. Seeing my silence, Kai continued, “I know seeing Evelyn and me together hurts you… I was wrong. I’ll make it up to you in other ways. But don’t take it out on Evelyn; she knows nothing. It’s me you should be mad at.” This sounded too much like those dramatic TV clichés, and I couldn’t stand it. Cutting him off, I fired back, “Mr. Dawson, we are long over. I have no lingering feelings for you. And I’ve never targeted your girlfriend. She added me as a friend, sent me your sleeping videos. I have no interest in your playtime preferences. I just care about my company.” “Evelyn… couldn’t have,” Kai looked genuinely confused, unable to believe his sweet girlfriend could be so petty. I pulled up my chat logs with Evelyn as proof. Seeing the evidence, Kai was dumbstruck. I continued, “Invest in a few acting classes for your girlfriend. As an actress, she should focus on honing her skills. Viewers can tell when actors aren’t putting in the effort. If you can’t bear to see her struggle, marry her and pamper her at home. Don’t rob hardworking people of their roles.” Ignoring Kai’s pale face, I walked away. A month later, “Misty Mist” wrapped filming. The distribution company was pleased and planned to release it during the lucrative New Year’s season. I also heard that Kai had arranged for Evelyn to get a Best Actress award. Since my family financed the film, I didn’t mind Kai adding some shine to it. Gareth’s manager suggested, “Let’s have Gareth contend for the Best Newcomer award too.” “Sure,” I agreed, “but let’s do it on merit. No buying votes.” “Got it. Even a nomination would be great for him at this point.” Believing that “character is fated to follow talent,” I was determined to guide Gareth on a steady career path. Shortly after, director Daniel Williams, an influential figure in international cinema, got impressed by Gareth through word of mouth. Known for resisting financial influence, Daniel auditioned Gareth, who landed a small part in one of his films. Even a minor role in a Daniel Williams film is an honor. While Gareth continued progressing steadily, Evelyn’s team bragged about only taking leading roles in major productions. Her next gig was in an S+ fantasy historical drama, supported by a slew of popular stars Kai paid for. When the cast was announced, Twitter blew up, labeling Evelyn a talentless resource hog. Kai had his PR team manage the backlash quickly, preventing it from escalating. Lily joked, “Evelyn lands the female lead while your Gareth plays a bit part. You’re tough on boys but spoil girls. You and Kai think alike in that way.” “”Actually, this part is perfect for Gareth. A good role, even a small one, can make a big impact,” I explained. “I prefer steady, genuine growth over artificial boosts.” Lily fully agreed, “You’re right; forced fame brings bad luck. Don’t take on a job you’re not ready for.” Little did I know, Lily’s words would come true…

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During our romantic getaway, my husband Jack impulsively recorded a 15-second intimate video of us. He meant to send it to me but accidentally posted it in our neighborhood SnapChat group instead. He frantically deleted it within 30 seconds. Little did we know, the neighbor’s kid had saved it. The boy curiously asked me: “Auntie, who’s that pretty lady Uncle Jack was hugging in bed?” For our first month of marriage, Jack and I both took annual paid leave and decided to fly to the Maldives for a romantic getaway. The crystal-clear waters of the Maldives were breathtaking. I went for a swim in my black bikini, my curves accentuated by the shimmering waves. “Babe, you look so hot,” Jack said with a grin, capturing the moment with his camera. Photography was Jack’s biggest hobby. He’d taken countless stunning photos of me since we started dating. That evening, after an exhilarating beach bonfire party, we retired to our $5,000-a-night luxury resort suite. We figured we should indulge since this was a once-in-a-lifetime trip. After showering, Jack eagerly embraced me from behind, whispering my name over and over. “Lena, I love you, I’ll love you forever… Will you call out my name like that when we make love?” I blushed and turned away. “You’re so shameless! What if someone hears us?” “Don’t worry, this fancy resort has top-notch soundproofing. You can be as loud as you want.” As we bantered, Jack got more excited and suggested recording a short video to commemorate the moment. If this had happened when we were just dating, I would have firmly refused. But now that we were married, I figured I could indulge my husband’s little fantasy. It was just a 15-second clip. After filming, he praised how “fair-skinned” I looked and said he’d send it to me. I checked my phone. “I didn’t receive anything. Did you forget to send it?” Jack quickly checked and slapped his forehead. “Crap, I posted it in the neighborhood group chat!” He hurriedly deleted it within 30 seconds. I panicked too. It would be mortifying if others saw such private footage. But a few people in the group had already seen it and teasingly commented on how pretty the woman looked. Seeing my anger, Jack hastily said, “Don’t worry, I only filmed your face and back. Nothing inappropriate was shown.” I blushed furiously. “They’ve all seen me before. Why are they suddenly calling me pretty?” “Maybe it’s because you’re glowing with happiness today, darling. Your inner beauty is shining through, so they naturally find you radiant.” “Smooth talker!” Even though he deleted it quickly, the incident still left me feeling uneasy. It dampened my mood for the last few days of our trip. Then one afternoon, I was taking a walk alone in our neighborhood when the 7-year-old boy from next door suddenly approached me with his phone. “Auntie! Auntie!” Since we were neighbors who often ran into each other, I thought he wanted to play. I bent down and asked what was wrong. To my surprise, the little boy pulled up a video and said he had saved it when Uncle Jack posted it in the group chat. “Auntie, who’s that pretty lady Uncle Jack was hugging in bed?” The woman’s face wasn’t clearly visible in the video, but it definitely wasn’t me. There was just a glimpse of parted red lips in profile. Her figure fit the slim Asian beauty standard perfectly. She was on all fours on the bed. Any adult could guess what was happening from that angle. And from the room layout, it was clearly the same resort we stayed at for our getaway! I frowned deeply. No wonder he chose the wrong video, given the similar angles. Could it be that Jack was having an affair with another woman during our romantic trip?

The small mole on the man’s abdomen confirmed it was indeed my husband. My husband cheating in the first month of marriage… Could anyone be more unlucky than me? I saved the video and deleted it from the boy’s phone, then bought him a lollipop. “The uncle and auntie in the video were just playing a game. Kids shouldn’t ask about these things. Don’t play with your mom’s phone so much in the future, okay?” The little boy skipped away happily. My smile froze as rage boiled inside me, feeling both humiliated and shocked. Jack had married into my family. Even the marital home with both our names was bought by my family… How dare he be so bold as to cheat on me? I stared at the woman in the video. She had a petite figure and fair skin in profile, looking quite young. I’d met all of Jack’s female colleagues and friends. This was clearly an unfamiliar face. I suspected she might be a hookup he found during the trip, but I wasn’t sure. After all, we were married now, and it would be hard to undo. If I rushed to divorce without solid evidence, I’d be at a disadvantage when dividing assets! Filled with resentment, I went to see my friend Mia who works in the beauty industry and showed her the video. She was shocked. “No way, weren’t you two on your honeymoon? He hooked up with another woman?” I fumed, “I know, right? This scumbag acts like such a loyal puppy in front of me, but he’s up to these tricks behind my back.” Mia pondered for a moment, then suddenly pointed at the video and said: “This woman used prosthetic makeup techniques. It’s not her real appearance.” As someone in the beauty industry, my friend easily spotted that the woman’s nose was sculpted with special effects clay. She even pointed out the details to me. I laughed bitterly. These days, women even use fake faces to cheat? How interesting. “Lena, don’t overthink it. That homewrecker will slip up eventually. You’re rich and beautiful anyway, ditching this scumbag won’t affect you much,” Mia reassured me solemnly. However, how could a bad marriage have no impact? Moreover, if I got divorced right after getting married, friends and family would surely mock me behind my back. I absolutely couldn’t let Jack get away scot-free. I had to catch solid evidence of his affair. To avoid alerting him, I acted normal when my husband came home that night, though I was already plotting how to investigate him. Unfortunately, before marriage we had agreed not to check each other’s phones to maintain trust and privacy, so I didn’t know his phone password. Before bed, I refused his advances. Jack was quite surprised. “Babe, we just got married and you’re already losing interest? Come on, look at other couples.” I made an excuse about being tired and said I wanted to turn off the lights and sleep. But my gaze was drawn to some racy videos on my husband’s phone screen. They were a series of voyeuristic short clips, all from a male point-of-view angle. The women in the videos were posed like puppets in various positions. Jack chuckled awkwardly. “This is from my buddy. Can you believe his lack of class, filming his own wife and sending it around? He’s sent me quite a few.” I couldn’t help but ask curiously, “Which buddy?” “My high school classmate Ryan. You met him at that small gathering before.” I seized the opportunity to ask to see his phone. Jack handed it over without hesitation. Sure enough, in his chat history with Ryan, there were several videos of Ryan’s wife. Although no private parts were exposed, it was still disgusting to film and share intimate videos. It was clear this couple enjoyed roleplaying, as the woman had different makeup and outfits each time. Could my husband’s affair partner be her? My suspicions grew, so I asked Jack to introduce me to his friend’s wife. To my surprise, my husband agreed readily. “Sure, it’s been a while since I’ve had dinner with Ryan anyway. I’ll set something up tomorrow so you can meet them.” At the barbecue dinner, I met Ryan’s wife for the first time. Her name was Lily. Though her features weren’t stunning, she had fair skin and ample cleavage peeking out from her camisole dress. “Nice to meet you, sister-in-law,” she greeted me shyly, blushing charmingly. I learned that she worked at the same beauty salon as my friend Mia. “Do you know Mia?” I asked. She shook her head in confusion. “I’m a beautician too, but I’ve only been working there for a month. I don’t know that sister yet.” Hearing she was a beautician, my heart skipped a beat as I recalled my friend mentioning “prosthetic makeup techniques”. So Lily also knew how to do special effects makeup and disguises… Could it be that Lily, seeking thrills but afraid of exposure, had disguised herself to hook up with my husband? I was startled by this bold idea, instantly imagining all sorts of scandalous scenarios. My face burned. I even thought of the comments under popular makeup transformation videos: “I really want to marry a makeup artist! Marrying her would be like marrying all the female celebrities in the entertainment industry.” “Getting this woman would be like having a whole harem!” Lost in wild speculation, Lily waved her hand in front of my eyes. “Sister, are you feeling unwell? Your face looks terrible.” I gave her a meaningful look and shook my head. “It’s nothing, probably just the barbecue smoke.” She quickly handed me a tissue to wipe my sweat, smiling when she saw my hands. “Sister, your hands are so beautiful, just like you. Wealth really shows, doesn’t it?” Only then did I notice how rough Lily’s hands were, quite at odds with her sweet appearance. They were clearly the hands of someone used to hard work. After some conversation, I learned that both Lily and Ryan came from poor rural backgrounds. She was a beautician and he was a manual laborer. The couple was struggling to make ends meet in the city, with no hope of affording a home anytime soon. I started to have doubts. Looking at her innocent demeanor, she probably didn’t even know her husband was sharing her videos around. Could such a naive girl really be a homewrecker who enjoys destroying other people’s marriages? To find out who that woman really was, I had an idea. If she was willing to follow me and my husband to our honeymoon resort, she must also be interested in other high-end hotels. I immediately booked a night at a new Japanese-style hot spring resort in the suburbs and sweetly said to Jack: “Honey, I didn’t get enough of our romantic getaway. This weekend, can we go soak in the hot springs?” Jack smiled. “Whatever makes you happy.” Looking at my husband’s gentle smile, I felt incredibly mocked. When it came to putting on an act, cheaters really were the best. On Saturday, we arrived as planned. This famous hot spring resort lived up to its reputation. The warm mist and blooming flowers created a perfect relaxing atmosphere that few women could resist. When we got to the hot spring, I pretended to take an urgent call and came back looking flustered. “Honey, something came up at work that I need to handle. I won’t be able to enjoy the hot spring today.” He asked with concern, “What’s wrong? Do you want me to drive you there?” I shook my head. “It’s fine, just some project issues my assistant can’t handle alone. I’ll have to work overtime today and sleep at the office. Why don’t you stay and enjoy the hot spring? No need to waste it.” Jack nodded reluctantly. “Alright babe, be safe.” I pretended to leave, but actually changed into different clothes and snuck back in. After anxiously waiting for about 15 minutes, the fish took the bait. A woman in an indigo wave-patterned kimono appeared hand-in-hand with Jack at the front desk, queuing to get their number. The woman’s kimono was loosely tied, revealing glimpses of her chest underneath. That fleeting side profile… was almost identical to the one I saw in the video! They took their number and disappeared into the crowd. In the hallway, I looked around cautiously and finally found our reserved room. I tiptoed towards the door. One step, two steps, three steps. The sliding door was pushed open a crack, warm yellow light seeping through. In the private hot spring, water splashed as Jack’s hands tightly gripped the woman’s slender waist, kissing her lips nonstop. The woman tilted her head back, enjoying his kisses while singing shamelessly like a siren. My heart sank. Because that familiar voice and petite figure were all too recognizable to me… Jack suddenly scolded her in a low voice, barely concealing his excitement. “Louder! You little minx.” 4 My friend Mia had studied music, and this was her favorite love song that she often hummed around me. My heart felt like it had been viciously torn to shreds, overwhelmed with pain. I never imagined that the two people closest to me would end up betraying me! Mia’s usually sallow face now looked as fair and delicate as jade, seemingly a decade younger. She giggled coquettishly: “Aren’t you afraid your wife will suddenly come back and catch us?” My husband possessively tightened his grip on her slim waist. “Not at all. She’s gone back to the office. It’s over 60 miles from here to downtown. She definitely won’t be back tonight.” Mia laughed softly as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I specially did the prosthetic makeup your wife has seen before. How’s that? Exciting enough?” Jack pinched her nose. “Don’t remind me of that. Last time we almost got caught. Good thing I was smart enough to use my buddy’s videos as a cover.” She stuck out her tongue and quoted her favorite TV show line: “If we’re going for thrills, might as well go all out.” They looked at each other and burst into unrestrained laughter. Talk about staying in character. I gritted my teeth and continued listening to see what other schemes this pair of dogs had in store for me. “You promised to divorce her right after the wedding… Then marry me. Have you forgotten?” “Baby, don’t rush. I’m just afraid divorcing too quickly would raise suspicions. Besides, my father-in-law promised to help with my promotion. That’s not settled yet.” Jack earnestly explained. As for why he liked the plain-looking Mia, he gave the answer himself. He said he liked that she could do all kinds of makeup transformations, giving him a fresh experience every time. Jack complained, “Baby, you’re so considerate. Unlike that Lena, always with the same boring look. She never makes a sound in bed either. I’m so sick of it.” “If it weren’t for her family background, I wouldn’t have deliberately pursued her. Marrying that dull woman would be such a waste of my life.” … I rubbed my temples and laughed bitterly. All the love and tenderness had just been an elaborate scam! Since I had booked the room, I could use the app to order water or herbal baths. In my fury, I decided to “spice up” their passionate encounter. I activated the automatic hot water feature, selecting 140°F water from the overhead shower. This temperature wouldn’t kill them, but it would certainly make for a “steamy” night. While they were passionately kissing and lost in the heat of the moment, scalding hot water poured over them from head to toe. Their amorous sounds abruptly ceased. “Ahh!” “F*ck! Where did this hot water come from? It’s burning me alive!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294597”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #玄幻Fantsy #狼人werewolf #擦边Steamy #励志Inspiring #现实主义Realistic #校园School #后宫Harem #重生Reborn

In the open kitchen, Hector stood right behind me, trapping me against the counter. One hand slipped toward my apron, while the other casually grabbed a blueberry and pushed it toward my mouth. My face flushed. He smirked, his voice full of teasing. “Sis, you’ve got quite the bite.” From the dining area across the room, Mommy Jenny turned her head and looked at me, confused. “Jenny, are you cold? Why are you shivering?” I never thought that the person I had a crush on for three years would end up becoming my stepbrother. The day I moved into the Gayle family’s house with my mom, I stood by the front door, completely drenched, water dripping from my hair and clothes. Hector slowly strolled up with an empty bucket in his hand, his eyes scanning me up and down with a wicked smile. “Oops, my bad, slipped.” He paused for a second, his tone mocking. “But with how little you’re wearing, maybe you wanted to cool off anyway.” I looked down at my soaked white shirt, realizing you could faintly see my bra through the fabric. Panicked, I quickly covered myself with my arms. Hector’s grin widened, even more shameless. He definitely saw everything! The thought sent a wave of heat rushing to my face. “Hector!” Samuel rushed over. A jacket with a light scent of soap fell on my shoulders, and Samuel stood protectively in front of me. “Jenny, go change your clothes. I’ll deal with him in a bit.” I was ushered into the downstairs bathroom, my heart still racing. It was my first time seeing Hector since I’d developed feelings for him years ago. He was just as handsome as before, if not more. But he clearly wasn’t happy to see me. I guess I couldn’t blame him. After all, my mom did disrupt his family. Bam bam bam! A loud knock on the door made me jump back several steps, startled. “Hector?” I muttered nervously as his voice came from the other side. “Brought you some clothes.” My heart, which had just started to calm down, went wild again. I stared at myself in the mirror—drenched, disheveled—and didn’t dare open the door. But Hector wasn’t giving up. He started twisting the doorknob, only to find it locked. “Open the door, or I’ll kick it down.” I knew he meant it. When Hector made a threat, he always followed through. Scanning the room in a panic, I grabbed a towel and draped it over myself. By the time he reached the count of three, I rushed to the door and swung it open. Hector leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, holding my clothes over his elbow. He was tall, and with a slight tilt of his head, he looked down at me. His sharp features stood out—perfect eyebrows, a strong nose with a small mole on its tip. His eyes flicked down to my chest, and his lips curled into a sneer. “What’s the point of covering up? Didn’t you want to show it off?” “It’s not like that,” I whispered defensively, the hurt in my voice bubbling to the surface. I never wanted to show off to anyone. “Jenny, stop pretending. Your mom’s a homewrecker, and you’re just a little temptress. She seduced my dad, and now you’re here trying to seduce my brother.” His brow furrowed in irritation. “Take off my brother’s jacket!” I froze. If I took it off, he’d see everything. But if I didn’t, he’d get mad. “Take it off,” he repeated. I clutched the towel tighter, my eyes shifting to the clothes he held. “Give me the dry clothes first.” Hector lifted the bundle of clothes slightly, just out of reach. I reached for them, but he jerked them back. “Want them? Beg me,” he said, tilting his head with a sly grin. “Just give them to me!” I lunged for the clothes. Hector quickly raised them higher. No matter how much I jumped, I couldn’t reach. How tall was he, exactly?! I tried again, putting even more effort into the jump, but just as I reached for them, I lost my balance, falling forward, and crashed right into Hector’s chest. “Tsk.” I heard him chuckle. “What, you trying to pull the same tricks as your mom? Think you can seduce me?” Hector’s voice dripped with sarcasm. Suddenly aware of my position, I realized my whole body was pressed up against him, my upper half especially. And worse, the towel I’d draped around myself was slipping, barely covering anything. I quickly pulled the towel back around me and turned away, hiding my face in shame. “What’s the matter? Not going to keep going?” Hector mocked, his voice cold. “You’ll never seduce my brother with tricks like that.” I wasn’t trying to seduce anyone. But no matter what I said now, Hector wouldn’t believe me. Tears welled up in my eyes, my heart aching with the weight of his misunderstanding. I knew Hector hated me, and hated my mom too. His mom had just passed away when we moved in, and my mom had taken her place. Of course he hated me. I understood that. But I couldn’t stand being so unfairly accused. “Hector!” Samuel’s voice cut through the tension. “What the hell are you doing? Standing outside a girl’s bathroom? What kind of manners are those?” “Why are you always on her side, bro?” “Jenny’s new here, you should be looking out for her. And by the way, she’s older than you, so show some respect. Hand her the clothes.” Hector shot me a glare but finally tossed the clothes to me, gritting his teeth. “Here you go, sis. Make sure you take care of them.” Samuel sighed, turning to me apologetically. “Sorry, Jenny. He’s always been a bit of a jerk. Go ahead and get changed.” I took the clothes, whispering a quiet “thank you” before closing the door. Once they were gone, I sat in the bathroom, clutching the dry clothes in my arms. Tears streamed down my face. I’d had a crush on Hector for three years, only to end up his step-sister and the target of his resentment.

After I changed into fresh clothes, Samuel mentioned that the whole family would be having dinner together later. Before moving in with the Gayles, I already knew Samuel. He was my teacher’s top student, and apparently, this connection mattered now. True to his responsible nature, he made sure to take care of me, just like my teacher had told him to. At the dinner table, my mom couldn’t keep her eyes off Mr. Gayle, as if she’d forgotten I even existed. I didn’t want to attract attention either, so I ate in silence. But of course, Mr. Gayle couldn’t resist bringing me up. “I hear Jenny’s in the same school as Samuel, what a small world,” he said, nodding approvingly at me. “If you need anything, just ask Samuel. He’s reliable.” “I will, Mr. Gayle,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. Mr. Gayle beamed, “Such a sweet girl.” No sooner had he said that than Hector made a scoffing noise, stabbing his chopsticks into his bowl. “What an act.” Mr. Gayle’s face darkened immediately. “Hector, show some respect.” Samuel gave him a warning look too. “Jenny just moved in. She’s a girl, and you should be looking after her.” I braced myself for Hector to argue, but instead, he said with a smirk, “Fine, I’ll make sure to take real good care of her from now on. Build some family bonding time.” He turned to me with a smile that made my skin crawl. Though he behaved the rest of dinner, I could feel the tension simmering underneath. Afterwards, I quickly excused myself and went back to my room. While I was unpacking, someone knocked at the door. I figured it was probably my mom, so I opened it without thinking. But when I looked up, I saw Hector standing there. I froze for a moment before instinctively trying to shut the door, but Hector wedged his foot between it and the frame. “You—” I started. Before I could finish, he forced his way inside, slamming the door shut behind him. Bang. He shut the door behind him, crossing his arms as he casually leaned against it. “What… what are you doing?” I backed away instinctively, putting as much distance between us as possible. Hector’s eyes roamed the room before they landed back on me. “Do you like my brother?” What? Where did that come from? I quickly shook my head. “Really?” Hector tilted his head. “Isn’t that why you moved in here? To get close to him?” “I didn’t,” I denied, but he wasn’t listening. He stepped closer, looking down at me. His height made it impossible to escape his gaze. “Then why’d you move in? Your mom said you weren’t too keen on the idea.” My stomach churned. There was no way I could tell him the truth — that the only reason I moved in was because I found out he’d come back home. I stayed silent, and Hector took my lack of response as an admission. His eyes narrowed. “So it’s true. Little temptress, trying to seduce my brother, huh?” I clenched my fists, trying to keep my voice steady. “You’re wrong. Now please leave.” Hector scowled, leaning in even closer. “Stop playing games with me, Jenny. Don’t you dare try to seduce him.” I bit my lip, helpless, unable to explain myself. Before Hector could say anything else, there was another knock at the door. It was Samuel’s voice on the other side. “Jenny, it’s me, Samuel. Do you have a minute?” Just as I was about to answer, Hector’s hand shot out, covering my mouth. My eyes widened in shock as I tried to pull his hand away, but his grip was firm. He leaned in, pressing me against the door, and whispered, “Shh. Don’t make a sound.” My heart raced as panic set in. Hector was so close, his warm breath against my cheek. I struggled, trying to push him away, but it only made him grin. “Jenny?” Samuel called again, sounding concerned. I tried to squirm free, but Hector held me even tighter. And then, to my utter disbelief, he kissed me. My brain short-circuited. Hector was kissing me. On the other side of the door, Samuel was waiting for a response while I was trapped, locked in a kiss with his brother. The realization made my blood rush to my face. I pushed at Hector’s chest, but he only deepened the kiss, his free hand pinning mine above my head. “Jenny, are you okay?” Samuel’s voice was more urgent now. Desperate, I mustered all my strength and kicked Hector’s leg as hard as I could. “Ow, Jenny, damn!” Hector hissed, finally letting me go, rubbing his leg with a pained expression. “Are you really that eager to open the door for him?” he teased, but his eyes darkened. “I wonder what he’d think if he saw you like this…” “What are you talking about?” I asked, horrified. He leaned in closer, his voice a low growl. “He doesn’t know you like him, does he? What do you think he’d do if he found out you’ve been in here, making out with his little brother?” Fear gripped me as I realized what he was saying. I stared up at him, wide-eyed. “You wouldn’t.” Hector didn’t respond. Instead, he slowly reached behind me, his hand hovering near the doorknob. I panicked, my voice trembling. “Please don’t open the door. Please.” His hand paused, and he glanced down at me, amused. “Begging now, huh? What happened to that bravado earlier?” His smirk faded as he pressed me closer, the heat of his body overwhelming me. If Samuel saw us like this… Hector’s fingers brushed the doorknob. “No, don’t!” I whispered desperately, trying to push him away. I could feel his grin against my ear. “Tell me what I want to hear, and maybe I won’t.” My heart pounded as I tried to think of something to say that would stop this. If Samuel opened the door, I’d be ruined — and Hector knew it. But before I could respond, Hector turned the handle. “Wait, Hector—” I started, but the door cracked open. My mind went blank. This was it. I was done for. In one swift move, Hector spun me around and pushed me forward. I stumbled out of the room, nearly tripping over my feet, just managing to catch myself in the hallway. The door clicked shut behind me, and I quickly spun around, my heart racing. Hector was nowhere to be seen. “Jenny?” Samuel asked, stepping closer. “What’s going on? Your lips… they’re so red.” I blinked in confusion, then instinctively raised a hand to my mouth. My lips were burning — probably from the kiss I hadn’t wanted to acknowledge. “I’m fine,” I blurted, trying to change the subject. “Uh, what did you need, Samuel?” He gave me a concerned look, but didn’t press the matter. “It’s not much. I just wanted to apologize for earlier. Hector can be a real jerk, but he doesn’t mean any harm. Don’t let him get to you, okay?” I nodded, feeling guilty, knowing that Hector was the least of my worries right now. Samuel handed me a glass of milk and gave me a soft smile. “If he ever bothers you again, just let me know.” After Samuel left, I opened the door to my room, and there was Hector, standing there, arms crossed, smirking like he had won something. “You…!” I stammered, too angry to form a coherent thought. He laughed softly. “You sure are obedient when it comes to him.” Then, with a mocking smile, he took the glass of milk from my hand and drank half of it in one gulp. “You…” Before I could react, he grabbed my chin, tilting my face upward, and without warning, he poured the remaining milk into my mouth. I choked, sputtering as the cold milk dripped down my chin. Hector, looking smug, wiped my face with the back of his hand as if he’d just done me a favor. Satisfied, he walked out of the room, leaving me standing there in shock. It took me a long time to calm down after that. I had a terrible feeling I’d just made things worse with him. Later that night, I lay in bed, thinking it over. My mom finally came to see me, and I expected her to offer some comfort after everything that had happened. But instead, she told me I needed to be more patient, that I should stop provoking the Gayle brothers, especially Hector. “Look, honey, I don’t have much of a choice here. Your Mr. Gayle hasn’t even agreed to marry me yet…” I bit my lip and nodded. “I understand.”

After a sleepless night, I woke up late the next morning. By the time I got downstairs, everyone was already having breakfast. Samuel wasn’t there, probably out for work, but Mr. Gayle greeted me warmly, while Mommy Jenny gave me a look of disapproval. “Jenny, sit down and have some breakfast,” Mr. Gayle said cheerfully. I hadn’t even started eating when Hector piped up from across the table, “Hey, Sis. I heard your strawberry jam is amazing. I’d love to try it.” Mommy Jenny beamed. “Oh, yes! Jenny is really good at making jam. Why don’t you go whip up a batch for Hector?” I shot Hector a wary glance. The mischievous glint in his eyes told me he was up to no good. But I was stuck. Reluctantly, I nodded and headed to the kitchen. It wasn’t difficult to make, but it took time, and at least it gave me a break from sitting at the table with them. I was halfway through the process when Hector strolled into the kitchen. He claimed he was there to “help,” but I knew better. He just wanted to bother me. Pulling out a container of blueberries from the fridge, he smirked. “I heard you like these. I bought them just for you.” Every time he called me sis, it felt like a trap. He picked out a blueberry and held it up to my lips. “Go on, taste it.” I instinctively took a step back, wary of his intentions. Hector leaned in, his voice dropping lower. “What’s wrong? You don’t trust me?” Then, in one swift motion, he pressed himself up behind me, trapping me against the counter. “You…” I started, but he grabbed my hand, pulling me closer. “Show me how you do it, Sis. Maybe I’ll cook for my dad someday.” He was too close. Way too close. The kitchen was open, and the dining table was just across from us. My mom must have heard the commotion because she chuckled from the other room. “Jenny, why don’t you show Hector how it’s done? It’s good to see siblings getting along so well!” I nodded quickly, scooting forward to put some space between us, not wanting to make a scene. I tried to tell him to step aside. “You can stand over there and watch.” “I like it better from behind,” he whispered, stepping even closer until I was practically leaning over the counter. My whole body tensed. This was getting way too out of hand. Suddenly, Hector’s arm slipped around my waist, pulling me flush against him. “Careful, Sis. You don’t want to get hurt, do you?” he said in a low voice, his breath brushing against my ear. I jumped, startled, and the spoon I was using to stir the jam fell into the pot with a clatter. “Hector, you—” I began, trying to push him away, but his hands were already sliding lower, resting on my waist. He didn’t seem to care that we were in plain view of the dining room, where my mom and Mr. Gayle were still having breakfast. “Sis, you better hurry. If the jam burns, it’ll be ruined,” Hector teased, his voice low, as if this was all some kind of joke to him. My hands shook as I grabbed the spoon again, trying to focus on stirring the pot. But with Hector standing so close, practically glued to me, it was impossible to think straight. My free hand reached out to the counter, trying to find something to ground me as I felt Hector’s other hand wander dangerously close to the edge of my apron. “Hector, stop,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “This isn’t funny.” But he only chuckled softly. “You’re right. It’s not funny at all. It’s just fun.” I grabbed his wrist, trying to stop him from moving any closer, but Hector only smirked, easily slipping his fingers from my grasp. “Relax, Sis. You’re doing great,” he said, completely ignoring my protests. My pulse quickened. I could feel the heat from the jam, the heat from his body pressing into mine. I was trapped between the stove and Hector, unable to move. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see my mom and Mr. Gayle still chatting, oblivious to what was happening in the kitchen. “Hector, please,” I pleaded softly, hoping no one would notice the panic in my voice. But Hector only smiled, grabbing a blueberry from the nearby bowl and holding it up to my mouth again. “Here, eat this.” Before I could say anything, he pushed the berry between my lips. As soon as I bit down, the juice dribbled down my chin, and Hector’s grin widened. “See? Isn’t it sweet?” I swallowed hard, the flavor of the blueberry barely registering over the pounding in my chest. He lowered his voice, so quiet only I could hear. “You’re good at biting, aren’t you?” A shiver ran down my spine, and I froze, unable to process what was happening. Just then, I heard my mom call from the dining room. “Jenny, are you cold? Why are you shivering like that?

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294613”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #励志Inspiring

Recently, I’ve discovered something strange. The daughter I painstakingly carried for nine months looks exactly like my husband’s late first love! 1、 This weekend was Eric’s middle school reunion. Eric’s family home is in another city, and since his parents passed away a few years ago, we hadn’t gone back since our wedding. This reunion seemed like a good chance to visit his old home. Originally, he was supposed to go alone, but our six-year-old daughter, Lily, insisted on going with her dad. Left with no choice, I drove there as well. Before the event started, I went to the restroom, leaving Eric to look after Lily. Some of his middle school friends came over to chat with him. From a distance, I overheard one of them say, “Is this your kid with Sophie? She looks just like her mom.” Sophie—Eric’s first girlfriend. “Wow, Eric! You really managed to win over the goddess. Why didn’t you invite us to the wedding?” It was meant as a joke, but I saw Eric’s expression change. He took a step forward and shielded Lily behind him. “You’re mistaken. Sophie passed away eight years ago.” Then, noticing me, Eric quickly led Lily over and linked his arm with mine. “This is my wife, Charisse.” I pretended not to hear the earlier conversation and smiled warmly at his friends. His friends awkwardly scratched their noses, afraid that I had overheard. They quickly changed the subject. As the night went on, the chatter and drinks flowed, but my mind kept replaying that one comment from his friend. That’s when I realized… my daughter, Lily, doesn’t really look like me. Lily’s lips and eyebrows resemble Eric’s, as if they were cut from the same mold. But while both Eric and I have almond-shaped eyes, our daughter has big, round eyes. And her face shape—Eric and I both have long, oval faces, but Lily’s face is round and square. I had always assumed she hadn’t grown into her features yet, that she just had a baby’s chubby, round face. But after what his friend said, I vaguely recalled the photo of Sophie that Eric kept in his wallet—round face, big eyes. So, Lily looks more like Eric and Sophie than me! Not like me at all. That realization sent chills down my spine. But just as quickly, I laughed at myself for overthinking. After all, Sophie had been dead for eight years, and Lily was only six. How could the daughter I carried for nine months not be mine? Eric never hid anything about Sophie from me. When we met, Sophie had already passed away. He couldn’t forget her, but under pressure from his family to marry, he reluctantly agreed to go on a blind date. At that first meeting, he told me their tragic love story, and I even teared up listening to it. I was focused on my career and wasn’t bothered by the fact that he still had feelings for Sophie. I just wanted to find a good man, and we clicked. Less than a year after we got married, we had our daughter, Lily. Our marriage has been pretty sweet, and we’ve hardly argued about anything, except for one thing—our daughter’s nickname, Lily. So, the fact that Lily doesn’t look like me? I chalked it up to a passing thought, and by the end of the reunion, I had forgotten all about it. But what happened next made me realize that maybe, just maybe… Lily really wasn’t my daughter. 2、 Lily just turned six, and after summer break, she’ll be starting first grade. We’d already enrolled her at Central Elementary School, which is conveniently close to home. According to the school’s rules, all incoming students must have a health check before starting the year. Eric was busy with work, so I didn’t mention it to him. I took Lily to New York General Hospital on my own. Lily was unusually quiet on the drive there, pouting and refusing to talk. “What’s wrong, Lily? Something bothering you? Can you tell Mommy?” She raised her chubby little face, “Mommy, Daddy won’t let me cut my hair, but I think short hair is cool. Long hair is uncomfortable! I’ve had long hair my whole life, and I want a new look for the new school year.” I had been so caught up in work that Eric had always taken care of Lily. Since she never brought it up, I hadn’t noticed that she had always had long hair. Even when it was hard to manage as a baby, Eric insisted she keep it. Now that she was older, it made sense that she’d want her own style. I didn’t want her to be upset over something small, so I said, “Alright, Lily. But you have to promise not to cry when they take your blood during the checkup, and then Mommy will take you to get your favorite haircut. Deal?” Lily was thrilled and eagerly agreed, “Deal!” The medical report wouldn’t be ready until the next day, so after the checkup, I took Lily to a nearby salon and got her the short haircut she wanted. I never expected the reaction I got from Eric when he came home that evening. The moment he saw Lily’s short hair, his face darkened, and he yelled at me. “Who told you to cut her hair?!” Lily was so scared she immediately hid behind me, nervously peeking at Eric’s angry expression. I was annoyed too. “Lily said long hair was uncomfortable, so I let her cut it. She likes it short. It’s not your hair, so why are you so mad? You’re scaring her.” Eric’s face was livid. Without even taking off his shoes, he strode past me and yanked Lily out from behind. “You like short hair?! Didn’t you promise Daddy you’d keep it long? Why did you cut it?!” Lily, just a child, had never seen her father so furious. She immediately burst into tears, crying out for me. My heart ached for her, and I quickly scooped her up, holding her close to comfort her. “What’s wrong with you? It’s just a haircut! Why are you acting like a madman? Look, you’ve scared her. I’m her mother. I can take her for a haircut if I want to.” Eric let out a cold laugh. “Now you remember you’re her mother? Have you ever taken care of her all these years?” I frowned. “Eric, didn’t we agree? After I had the baby, I wouldn’t stop working, and you promised to take care of her. Now you’re blaming me?” Eric realized he had overreacted and quickly changed his tone. “That’s not what I meant. I’ve been really stressed at work lately, and I took it out on you both. I’m sorry.” “Come here, Lily. Daddy’s sorry. Let me hug my little princess.” But Lily was too scared, still crying quietly in my arms. I ignored him, took Lily to her room, and she clung to me, asking me to stay with her for the night. I assumed she was just shaken, so I grabbed a pillow and stayed in her little room. But after telling her two bedtime stories, she still wouldn’t sleep. “Mommy, why do I have two mommies?” I frowned and gently asked, “What do you mean, Lily?” She blinked her big eyes, and what she said next hit me like a bolt of lightning. “The other night, Daddy thought I was asleep, and I heard him whispering that I’m looking more and more like my other mommy. He sounded happy, but he was crying when he said it.” “Mommy, who’s my other mommy? Why do I have two mommies?” 3、 I suppressed the anger rising inside me and managed to soothe Lily to sleep. When I got back to our bedroom, Eric was still awake. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at his wallet. I knew he was looking at Sophie’s picture again. Fury surged inside me, and I snatched the wallet from his hands. “Eric, she’s been dead for years! Can’t you let her rest in peace?!” Eric spoke through gritted teeth, “Charisse, I’m sorry about today. Let’s not fight. Lily’s asleep, and I’m not in the mood for this. Just give me back my wallet.” “Hah,” I scoffed, “You’re the one who can’t accept reality. Stop trying to drag my daughter into your fantasies! Wake up, Eric. Lily is my child, not yours and Sophie’s!” I threw the wallet at him, grabbed my pillow, and stormed off to our daughter’s room. I didn’t notice the flash of coldness in Eric’s eyes as I left. I spent the next day thinking about what Lily had said. It left me so drained I could barely focus at work. Luckily, I had my own office, so zoning out wasn’t an issue. During my lunch break, I went to New York General Hospital to pick up Lily’s medical report. Lily was perfectly healthy and ready to start school. I breathed a sigh of relief, but then something strange caught my eye. There was something off about the report. I laid it out on my desk and reviewed it carefully. What I saw made me gasp. Lily’s blood type was listed as B. But I’m type A, and Eric is type O. Based on basic biology, there’s no way we could have a child with type B blood! Suddenly, Lily’s words from last night echoed in my mind: “Why do I have two mommies?” And Eric’s friend’s joke from the reunion—“This kid looks just like Sophie.” Two mommies? An answer started forming in my mind, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it. No. It couldn’t be. Sophie’s been dead for eight years! Lily was born after I carried her for nine months. I was there. I watched the doctor cut the umbilical cord myself. There couldn’t be a mistake. But the facts were staring me in the face, and I couldn’t ignore them. The room spun as the weight of everything hit me. I sank into my chair, trying to steady myself. Could the daughter I had raised all these years not be mine? It was absurd. Impossible. I refused to believe it. In the end, I decided to go back to the hospital. Maybe there was a mistake with the tests? I took the day off work and drove straight to the hospital. But when I got there, they confirmed that the results were accurate. No mistakes. Which meant there was something wrong with Lily. I wanted to ask Eric, but when I thought about his behavior last night, something didn’t sit right. Could he be involved? The thought sent shivers down my spine. I didn’t want to believe it, but it was the only explanation that made sense. Who else had access to switch my child? But why would Eric do that? If Lily isn’t my daughter, then whose child is she? She can’t be Sophie’s—Sophie’s been dead for eight years. How could a dead woman have a child? I had to stop myself from spiraling into endless what-ifs. Instead, I gathered some of Lily’s hair from her hairbrush, as well as samples from both Eric and me, and sent them to the DNA testing center. 4、 The results would take a week. During that week, I didn’t tell anyone what I had done, not wanting to raise suspicion. Instead, I found myself constantly watching Lily, trying to find any resemblance to me. But no matter how much I looked, the only similarity between us was that we were both female. There was nothing else that tied us together. Even my family’s characteristic olive skin hadn’t passed down to Lily. She was pale, with round eyes and a square face—nothing like me. I read everything I could about genetics. Even with strong genes from one parent, children usually share at least some traits with both parents. The week dragged on in agony, but finally, the results came in. The DNA test confirmed it. Lily wasn’t my biological daughter. But Eric… he was Lily’s father. The truth hit me like a bucket of ice water. My hands trembled uncontrollably as I stared at the results. I wasn’t Lily’s mother, but Eric was her father. So who was her mother? Sophie had been dead for years, which meant only one possibility: my loving husband had cheated on me either before or after I got pregnant. And this other woman had given birth around the same time and swapped her child for mine. I had raised someone else’s child all these years. But where was my child? What had happened to her? Rage flooded my chest. I drove home as fast as I could. Eric was playing with Lily’s Barbie dolls. She was brushing the doll’s hair when she saw me. She immediately dropped the doll and ran over to me, her sweet voice calling out, “Mommy!” But all I could think about was my missing daughter. Was she out there somewhere? Was she warm, well-fed? Could she be living as happily as Lily? I knew it wasn’t Lily’s fault, but it didn’t stop me from feeling a growing distance from her. Every time I looked at her, I thought of my own daughter, suffering somewhere, without me. I forced a smile and said, “Lily, be a good girl. Mommy needs to talk to Daddy. Go play with your dolls in your room for a bit, okay?” Lily looked up at me, then over at Eric. It seemed like she sensed something was wrong, but she obediently nodded and took her doll back to her room. Once I was sure she couldn’t hear us, I turned to Eric, fury burning inside me. He was sitting on the couch, looking confused. “What’s your problem now?” I forced myself to stay calm. Instead of slapping him like I wanted to, I pulled out the DNA results and Lily’s medical report. “Explain this, Eric.” He picked up the results, and his pupils shrank. His hands trembled slightly. “This… this can’t be right.” But he quickly regained his composure, setting the papers back down and giving me a smile. “That’s impossible. Lily is the daughter you carried for nine months. The DNA center must have made a mistake.” “How could she not be related to you?” “Charisse, have you been reading too many novels? We’re not some rich, powerful family where baby swaps happen. Why would anyone swap our child?” As I stared at his calm face, my heart turned to ice. Up until that moment, I had hoped he didn’t know. But seeing him now, I realized my darkest suspicion was true. He knew. He had known all along. And worse, he was the one who had done this. Eric was still rambling on. “There must be some mistake. We’ve raised Lily together all these years. How could she not be yours?” “How about this, Charisse? Let’s go together and get another test. The three of us.” 5、 I didn’t turn down his offer. We went to a larger hospital to get a second opinion. But I didn’t believe a word he said. I had already contacted the hospital where I gave birth, and they assured me that they had never had any cases of swapped babies. I even went to the doctor who had delivered Lily. He couldn’t believe what I was telling him. When I showed him the DNA results, he was visibly shocked. We reviewed the surveillance footage from my time in the hospital, going through it frame by frame. There was no sign of any wrongdoing there. The doctor adjusted his glasses. “Mrs. Williams, I’m so sorry about this, but I can personally vouch for this hospital. We’re a reputable institution. There’s no way a child could have been swapped here. But after you gave birth, you transferred to Riverside Family Care Center. Maybe you should check there. You might find your biological daughter.” The doctor had a point. It couldn’t have happened in the hospital. When I gave birth, I nearly died. After an emergency C-section, Eric had taken care of Lily. He had the time and opportunity to swap our daughter. But I still couldn’t understand why. Why would Eric do such a thing? And if Lily wasn’t our child, then who was she? I contacted Riverside Family Care Center next, but unfortunately, the video records from that time had long been lost. I was overwhelmed with exhaustion as I dragged myself home. Eric and Lily were waiting for me at the dinner table. The sight of a table full of food didn’t stir my appetite at all. Without warning, Eric set the new DNA results down in front of me. “See? I told you the hospital must have made a mistake. I’ve heard online that some shady DNA centers give everyone false results just to make a quick buck. Maybe that’s what happened to you.” Lily stared up at me with wide eyes. “Mommy, don’t you want me anymore?” My heart felt like it was going to burst. I forced the softest smile I could manage and said, “Mommy would never stop loving you, Lily. You’re too young to understand what’s going on right now. Why don’t you go back to your room, sweetheart?” Once Lily was out of earshot, I turned to Eric with a steely glare. “What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you tell her that? This is between you and me. Why drag a little girl into it?” Eric smiled and pushed the fake DNA results toward me again. “It wasn’t my choice. Lily’s been really upset these past few days. She thinks you don’t want her anymore. She hasn’t been eating well. I had to tell her the truth.” “You know she’s just a child. How do you expect her to process the idea that the mother who raised her might not be her biological mother?” “Look, the test results are out. Let’s stop fighting. I told you, the hospital made a mistake.” I scoffed. “You really think I’ll believe the results from a test you rigged? I didn’t tell you this earlier, but I sent all three of our DNA samples to a trusted lab. The results came back saying you and Lily are related, but she’s not mine. What lab would only fake one side of a test?” “Things have gone too far, Eric. You’d better tell me where my daughter is, or I swear I’ll take this to the police.” 6、 Eric’s face stiffened when he heard my words, but he quickly composed himself, still holding onto that feeble DNA test result. “Charisse, what’s going on with you? Are you under too much pressure at work, imagining things? Lily is our daughter, how could you even doubt her?” Before I could respond, Lily’s cries interrupted us. She ran over, clutching my leg. “Mommy, Mommy, don’t leave me. I’ll be good—please don’t leave me!” Her cries pierced my brain like needles. I had no choice but to pause the conversation with Eric, picking her up and gently soothing her. “Mommy’s not leaving you, Lily. Why would you think that? You’re Mommy’s precious baby. It’s not like what you’re thinking. Mommy and Daddy just have something to work through, but we would never stop loving you.” With Lily’s crying, Eric and I didn’t resolve anything that night. Lily clung to me, afraid that I’d leave her the moment she closed her eyes. She insisted on sleeping with me. I was just as eager to avoid sharing a room with Eric, so I took my pillow and blanket and went to Lily’s room. Even though Lily was exhausted, she was restless and wouldn’t fall asleep, even after I told her several stories. “Mommy, will I become an unwanted child?” I kissed her forehead. “What a silly thought, sweetheart. What mommy would ever abandon her own daughter?” “But Daddy said… Daddy said you don’t think I’m your real daughter anymore. And that you’re going to bring home a new sister. When that happens, you won’t love me anymore. You’ll leave me.” Her eyes filled with tears as she spoke. My heart ached as I held her tightly, emotions swirling inside me. Honestly, I knew Lily was innocent in all this, but every time I thought about how my real daughter might be suffering somewhere because of her, the pain became unbearable. I hated Eric for being so despicable. This was between us, yet he dragged an innocent child into it, trying to use her as leverage against me. But he was wrong—nothing could throw me off course. Lily peeked up from my embrace. “Mommy, please don’t leave me. Daddy’s been acting weird. He says strange things when he’s asleep, and he won’t let me cut my hair. I don’t want to live with just Daddy.” Weird things? I latched onto those words, my curiosity piqued. Because of work, Eric had always been the one to put Lily to bed. “What strange things has Daddy been saying, Lily? Can you tell Mommy?” Lily furrowed her little brow, thinking hard before quietly saying, “Daddy says he misses Mommy. Sometimes he even cries, saying how cruel Mommy was for leaving us. But you’re right here with us, Mommy.” Her voice grew smaller, and she nestled closer to me. “Mommy, Daddy is really strange. I don’t want to live with him alone. He even gives me baths when you’re not around and tells me not to tell you.” “What?”

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In my last life, Mrs. Margaret White, my teacher, led the bullying against me, simply because I scored better than the boy she favoured. She spread rumours in class, saying I cheated and was involved in a relationship. She would say, “Some people’s marks have suddenly shot up, but we all know how they got there.” She’d add, “Some people spend all day not studying and only know how to lead people astray!” She stoked the flames, getting the whole class to turn against me, and in the end, it drove me to depression and forced me to drop out. This time, however, I was back on the day she started spreading the rumour about me cheating. I raised my hand and said: “Miss, last time I handed in my homework, I saw you sitting on Max Turner’s lap. Is that how you improve his grades?” The mock exam results had come out, and I had moved up thirty places. I’d gone from the bottom of the class to the middle. Alice Bennett stared at my paper, “Liv, you’re smashing it!” Alice is my best friend, always encouraging me. We were inseparable in school. In my previous life, when I was depressed and dropped out, she tried her hardest to convince me to stay. After I took my own life, she nearly fainted from crying. Now that I had another chance at life, I looked at the test paper on my desk, but I wasn’t particularly happy. I knew trouble was coming my way. Mrs. White strode into the room, her stiletto heels clicking as she swayed her hips. “I’ve put the class rankings on the board. You can check after class.” “But first, I want to talk about two students, Olivia Williams and Max Turner.” Mrs. White walked over to Max’s desk. Max sat alone, near the front. She pretended to comfort him, patting him on the shoulder. “You didn’t do so well this time, Max. Olivia’s overtaken you.” Max nodded, but from where I sat, I could see him nudge Mrs. White’s lower back with his elbow. Disgusting. Alice immediately jumped to my defence, “What’s that supposed to mean, Mrs. White?” Mrs. White snorted, her expression turning condescending. “Students falling behind is fine. As the form tutor, it’s my job to focus on those who need to catch up. As long as they want to learn, it’s no problem.” “But what concerns me are those with ulterior motives.” “How someone’s grades improved so quickly, I’m not sure. I don’t want to investigate, and frankly, I’m too tired to bother. I’ll spare her the embarrassment by not naming names.” I stared at Mrs. White as she twisted the truth on the podium, and it brought me right back to the last time. Once or twice, I had outscored Max Turner. She began calling me out during assemblies, saying, “Some people’s marks have suddenly shot up, but we all know how they got there.” Then I borrowed a book from the library, and the student council president, Samuel Turner, helped me. Mrs. White saw this. She spread another rumour, “Some people never study and just spend their time seducing others!” She led the class in isolating me. In lessons, she wouldn’t ask me questions. After class, she refused to mark my homework. Even when I handed it in, she wouldn’t grade it. It got worse—she stopped giving me study materials, and when the school counted the class roll, I wasn’t included. Teenagers can be simple and cruel. When a teacher dislikes a student, how can that student have any friends? At that point, Alice was the only one who still talked to me, but Mrs. White eventually transferred her to another class. After that, I was completely alone. Rumours spread, the teacher hated me, my classmates bullied me, and eventually, I dropped out due to depression and ended my life. And all of it because I scored better than Max, the teacher’s favourite. This time, the story started the same way. So I raised my hand and said, “Miss, last time when I handed in my homework, I saw you sitting on Max Turner’s lap. Is that how you improve his grades?” Mrs. White’s face went pale. “What on earth are you talking about, girl?” “Not only do you cheat, but you’re a liar too!” I tilted my head, feigning innocence. “Miss, what are you on about?” “Weren’t you unsteady on your feet, and Max was just helping you out? You accidentally ended up on his lap, didn’t you?” Mrs. White’s face flushed from blue to white, then back again. “Yes, I wasn’t steady on my feet.” Of course, that wasn’t what had happened, but my intention was only to give her a little warning. Still, the students started buzzing. After all, we were teenagers. Mrs. White quickly shouted, “Alright, enough! Quiet down, let’s get back to class!” After the lesson, Mrs. White hurried out without even stopping to talk to Max. Once she left, my classmates swarmed around me. “Olivia, is what you said really true?” “Did Mrs. White and Max actually… you know?” “She does walk like that… I always thought she was a bit much.” I calmly packed my books away. Alice was watching me with concern. I finished tidying up and grabbed Alice’s arm, “Let’s head to the toilets.” As we walked away, I turned to the nosy crowd. “The teacher said she was just unsteady on her feet. That’s all I know, so don’t drag me into it. Mrs. White already doesn’t like me.” Then I pulled Alice along, leaving the gossip behind. When someone spreads rumours about you, the best way to fight back is to start an even bigger, juicier rumour—especially if it’s not entirely false. Mrs. White was implying that my grades came from cheating, so I hinted at something just as inappropriate. Students love gossip. Even the slightest hint of a scandal draws them in. And what’s more explosive than a cheating scandal? A teacher-student affair. I had planted the seed. If they were curious, they could find out for themselves. Let’s just hope Mrs. White keeps her secrets well hidden from these curious teenagers. On the way to the toilets, Alice Bennett seemed like she had something she wanted to say to me, but she kept hesitating. When we finally got to the toilets, she couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Liv, I’m worried Mrs. White is going to come after you.” “She won’t. Why would she, unless she has something to hide?” “But… did she really sit on Max’s lap that day…?” I quickly shushed her. “Careful! Walls have ears!” Alice looked around nervously and nodded, grabbing my hand as we hurried out of the toilets. High school is supposed to be wonderful, the time we’ll remember forever. Alice tugged me along, glancing back to urge me. “Hurry up, we’re going to be late for class!” I felt a twinge of guilt. I was using her. It wasn’t just that walls might have ears; they did have ears. I had noticed there were other girls in the next stall when I mentioned Mrs. White. I said it on purpose—I wanted her reputation ruined. I wanted her to go through exactly what I went through. Every bit of it.

Rumours about Mrs. White began to spread throughout the school. She tried to change her appearance, dressing in plain, casual clothes and swapping her stilettos for flats. It seemed like she was attempting to repair her image. But, of course, the rumours only grew. “Mrs. White’s not wearing heels anymore. Do you reckon she’s pregnant?” “Definitely. My mum wore flats and loose clothes when she was pregnant with my brother.” “So, who do you reckon the father is?” “Do you even need to ask?” The students whispered and laughed, filling the corridors with gossip. Mrs. White clearly heard them, as she yelled for everyone to be quiet, dragging the group of whisperers outside for a telling-off. You could hear her scolding them down the whole corridor. The next day, she returned to her usual attire, as if to prove she wasn’t pregnant. But it was useless. Mrs. White no longer called Max into her office as often. Instead, she frequently summoned me. “Clean the office, Olivia.” “Take this pile of books to Mrs. Thompson’s office.” “Get me some water.” She treated me like a servant. Worse still, she always made me do these tasks during lessons. At St. Edmund’s, we had weekly quizzes for every subject, and the form tutor invigilated. Mrs. White waved my quiz results in the air as she stood at the front of the class. “Some students keep visiting the teacher’s office, but instead of improving, their grades are slipping.” Then she held up Max Turner’s paper alongside another student’s. “Look at these students who don’t spend their time in the office. As long as they want to learn, they’ll make progress.” “But some students like to pull stunts to get the teacher’s attention. And after all that attention, they still let the teacher down, even turning on them. It breaks my heart!” It was a clever move. I couldn’t attend lessons properly, which meant I couldn’t keep up. Naturally, my grades started slipping. But, of course, no one else knew that she was pulling me out of class to do her errands. Just then, Mrs. Holy Thompson, the head of discipline, walked past our classroom. Seeing me standing, she asked, “What’s going on here, Margaret?” Mrs. White let out a dramatic sigh, “Well, Olivia’s grades were improving, but now they’re dropping again. I’m worried about her.” Mrs. Thompson took a look at my quiz paper and frowned. “Olivia, this isn’t good enough.” She handed me some extra revision papers. “Come to my office after class. I’ve got a set of past papers for you. Make sure to copy them and share them with the class. It’ll be good practice for everyone.” I nodded. “Thank you, Mrs. Thompson.” Mrs. Thompson was a well-respected teacher in her fifties. Even the headmaster deferred to her. She smiled and left, leaving Mrs. White fuming. “Well, thank Olivia, everyone. Without her, where would we get these past papers?” Mrs. White’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. But the class wasn’t having any of it. They sincerely shouted, “Thanks, Olivia!” I pressed my lips together and gave a small bow. “Sorry for holding the class back.”

I thought this would be the end of it, but after school, Max Turner blocked my way. I secretly turned on the recording device in my pocket. “What do you want?” Behind him were a few of The Ashford Boys, puffing on cigarettes. Max stepped closer. “What do I want?” “You don’t know what you’ve done? You don’t know who you’ve crossed?” I shouted back that I had no idea. One of The Ashford Boys let out a low whistle. “You’ve crossed Lord Turner!” “Gutsy, aren’t you, going up against Max?” I turned to Max, “So, you’re ‘Lord Turner,’ then?” Max lit a cigarette, smirking. “Who else would it be?” Just then, the headlights of a car shone into the alley. Mrs. White stepped out. She sashayed over to Max, who quickly put his arm around her waist. The boys whistled and cheered, calling her “Mrs. White” and even “sis-in-law.” Mrs. White smirked. “Don’t call me that. You’re not my students, are you? Only Max gets to call me that.” She shot me a cold look before turning to Max. “Do what you want, just don’t kill her.” I understood her meaning clearly—anything goes, as long as I don’t end up dead. Mrs. White drove away, and Max’s group closed in. One of the boys dumped a cup of milkshake over my head, and before I could react, someone grabbed my hair, pulling me to the ground. They dragged me across the pavement, throwing my books out of my bag and stomping on them, spitting and cursing. Max gave the order, “Strip her, take some photos.” A few of them started ripping at my clothes, pulling off layer after layer until only my undergarments remained. I struggled and kicked, and they kicked me back. Suddenly, a police siren blared in the distance, and Max’s group panicked, snapping a few photos before running off. Once they were gone, I scrambled to put my clothes back on and checked my recording device. Still intact. When I looked up, I saw Samuel Turner standing at the end of the alley, watching me. In my past life, he had only helped me pick up a book in the library, but that was enough for Mrs. White to accuse me of seducing him and cheating on my exams. The rumours had destroyed my reputation. Seeing him now, I felt a mix of guilt and confusion. I had never meant to drag him into this. But right now, I must’ve looked a mess. “Did they leave?” Samuel asked quietly. I nodded, realising that he must have been the one to scare them off. He nodded towards the recording device in my hand. “Is it broken?” I shook my head. “It’s fine.” “Hand it over, then.” I stared at him, confused. He adjusted his glasses. “It’s mine. Give it back.” Samuel took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. I suddenly noticed the striking resemblance between him and Max. Especially in their eyes. “I helped you. Don’t you think you owe me something?” I had a suspicion about what he wanted, but I wasn’t sure. I decided to take a gamble. “You want to destroy Max Turner. We can work together, but I’m not giving up control.” Samuel blinked in surprise, then burst out laughing. “Whoever said you were stupid? You’re sharper than I thought.” “Alright. How do you want to work together?” “I want Mrs. White to lose everything. And as for whatever Max does along the way, I’ll record it all and hand it to you.” Samuel held out his hand. “Deal?”

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The daughter I cherished like a treasure turned out to be a fraud. My real daughter, however, was thrown into a homeless camp by my husband. While that little snake, Chloe, paraded around in designer clothes, dripping in jewels, my daughter was dressed in rags, barely scraping by. Chloe was sent abroad for an Ivy League education, while my daughter remained illiterate. When my daughter finally escaped the wolves and returned home to seek her family, Lucas sent her away without telling me, shoving her out of our lives. Heartbroken, my daughter walked through the storm, only to be struck by a drunk truck driver. When I discovered the truth, I wanted to seek justice for her. But before I could, Chloe pushed me into the freezing waters of the Hudson River. In my last moments, I saw Lucas holding hands with Megan Stone, with Chloe clinging tightly to them. “Thank you for raising my daughter so well,” Lucas said with a smirk. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment Grace was born. This time, I would protect my precious daughter at all costs!

I struggled desperately in the ice-cold water of the Hudson. Until the moment I drowned, no one came to save me. I felt my soul leave my body. I was so unwilling to die, so full of hatred! Lucas, the man I loved deeply, had been cheating on me for years. The daughter I cherished like my own was actually Lucas and Megan Stone’s illegitimate child. Megan’s wild laughter echoed in my ears even in death. Before my eyes, I saw nothing but blood—just like the scene when my real daughter, Grace, died, her blood pooling around her lifeless body. If I could do it all over again, I would take revenge—for myself, and for Grace! Suddenly, I heard the cry of a newborn baby… I forced my heavy eyelids open. The blinding white ceiling, the smell of disinfectant. Was I in the hospital? I wasn’t supposed to be alive; I had drowned in the river, hadn’t I? I glanced around. The old-fashioned decor—it looked familiar. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my abdomen and couldn’t help but cry out. “Sweetheart, you’re awake! You scared me to death!” Mom? I focused my vision. It was my mother, but much younger than I remembered her. Wait… had I been reborn? Ignoring the pain, I bolted upright in bed. “Mom, where is my daughter?” In my past life, Lucas swapped my baby while I was weak and unconscious from childbirth. Not this time. Not again. My mother gently wiped the sweat from my forehead as I grabbed her arm, pleading. “Mom, where is my baby?” Unaware of my panic, she tried to soothe me. “Sweetie, don’t worry. The nurse took her for a checkup. She’ll be back soon.” “You should lie down and rest. You just had a baby; don’t overexert yourself.” I stared straight into my mother’s eyes. “Where’s Lucas?” She smiled. “Oh, you know him, he’s obsessed with Grace. The nurse only took her for a routine check, but he insisted on going with them.” What? My heart felt like it was in a vice, and I couldn’t breathe. No! I won’t let him get away with it this time. Ignoring the pain, I jumped out of bed, barefoot, and ran toward the door. My mother tried to stop me, but I sidestepped her and rushed to the door, only to collide with someone coming in. It was Lucas! He cradled the baby protectively, glaring at me with irritation. Seeing how he held Chloe so tenderly, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Even after being given a second chance, he had still won. Rage shot through me like wildfire. If my anger could take physical form, Lucas would have been reduced to ashes on the spot. “Melissa, the floor’s cold. Get back in bed,” Lucas said, faking concern. He thought he had fooled me, but I could still see the malice and impatience in his eyes. My mother caught up, pulling me back into bed. Once I was settled, Lucas laid Chloe beside me. “She’s hungry,” he said. On cue, Chloe started crying. I stared coldly at her. This was the child who had stolen Grace’s life, stolen all my love and resources, only to repay me by pushing me into the river. There wasn’t a creature in the world more vile than Chloe, this snake in the grass. Slowly, I reached out, my hand hovering over her neck. I wanted to strangle her right then and there. Lucas was lost in his own thoughts, smiling, unaware of what I was about to do. But my mother, who had been watching me closely, gasped. “Melissa, that’s not how you hold a baby. You need to support her neck.” “She’s crying because she’s hungry,” Lucas chimed in, smiling as he picked Chloe up, trying to place her in my arms. I turned away, lying down on the bed. “She can have formula. I’m tired. I need to rest.”

I closed my eyes, and all I could see was the blood covering the ground from the moment my daughter died. I won’t let any of these monsters get away with this. I’m playing the long game now. Lucas Anderson, the man my father handpicked, was nothing more than a glorified errand boy at my dad’s company. Maybe it was my family’s wealth that gave him the perfect cover—everyone thought he was the ideal husband. Everyone, including me, believed I had found the best man on earth. It wasn’t until the end that I learned the truth. Lucas called it “suffering in silence for a better future.” But that future was never with me—it was always with Megan Stone. Megan had even timed her pregnancy to align with mine, delivering early by C-section to swap our babies. Chloe, the little snake, was born small and frail, premature. I had spent my last life nursing her back to health, pouring every bit of my energy into her. She grew strong enough to push me into the freezing Hudson River. Lucas had been my father’s top choice, a man he believed could help carry the burden of the family business. He had chosen Lucas from among the scholarship recipients he had sponsored, thinking Lucas had the potential to succeed. Dad said Lucas was handsome, disciplined, and hardworking—a man with promise. Mom, however, insisted I should marry someone from an equally wealthy family. But I was blinded by Lucas’s charm, convinced he was the one for me. I even talked my mom into supporting our marriage. Looking back now, I was completely blind and foolish. I never saw the rotten core underneath Lucas’s polished exterior. As for when Lucas and Megan started their affair, I have no idea. But Megan’s due date was after mine, so he had to have been cheating on me while I was pregnant. Once I got pregnant, my focus shifted entirely to Grace. I slowly handed over control of the family business to Lucas, thinking he could handle it. This time around, Lucas won’t get a single cent from the Evans fortune. Once I recovered physically, I moved into the luxury Park Avenue Postpartum Retreat I had reserved. Back when we got married, we didn’t dig deep enough into Lucas’s past. We didn’t realize he had been pining after Megan all along. I contacted Uncle George, the head of security at Evans Family Enterprises, to dig into Lucas’s life thoroughly. The fact that he had managed to evade a professional background check told me he had planned this for years. Lucas claimed to have no family—his parents were dead, and he didn’t keep in touch with relatives. My parents and I had pitied him, bending over backward to make him feel like part of our family. I had even suppressed my privileged upbringing, afraid of hurting his fragile ego. Looking back now, I realize I was nothing but a fool. A man who could abandon his own daughter to a homeless camp deserves nothing less than to lose everything and end up alone. Business was busy, and most of the time it was just me and that little snake, Chloe. Watching her, this ungrateful, feral child, made me clench my fists just to stop myself from choking her. Meanwhile, my true daughter, Grace, was out there suffering, while this monster lay in the most luxurious postpartum retreat money could buy. Maybe it was the icy glare in my eyes, but Chloe started to cry. And then—two loud sounds. She had soiled herself. In my past life, I had pushed through my disgust, changing her diapers and cleaning her up time and time again. But not this time. This time, I didn’t care if she got a rash that covered her entire face. I had already refused to breastfeed her, and even though Lucas tried to hide it, I could see the resentment in his eyes. He was already planning his revenge, no doubt. Too bad for him—this time, I’m the one keeping score. Without a penny to his name, Lucas, the dependent son-in-law, couldn’t survive without me. No matter how angry he was, he had no choice but to swallow it. My parents, always so thoughtful, had sent high-end, imported baby formula. But I rejected it outright. I insisted on the cheaper kind. Even the staff at the retreat gave me strange looks. They wondered how someone as wealthy as me could be so stingy with a newborn. Some of them whispered that I must really favor boys over girls to act this way.

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On Valentine’s Day, I caught my wife cheating with her coworker. To get revenge, I paid a prostitute with syphilis to seduce the coworker. After succeeding, my wife tried to reconcile with me. But her test results came back positive – how could I touch her now? I got home early from work on Valentine’s Day afternoon, having prepared steak, flowers, and wine in advance. Everything was ready – I was just waiting for my wife Emily to get home so we could have a romantic candlelit dinner. But over an hour had passed, and Emily still hadn’t arrived. When I called her, she said the company was making them work overtime, then quickly hung up. I felt instantly deflated and resigned myself to eating the steak alone while scrolling on my phone. Suddenly, I saw a post from Emily’s coworker on Instagram: “Happy Valentine’s Day! The company let everyone off early today! May all lovers be together~” My wife had lied to me? Thinking back, Emily had been acting strangely lately. Our usual twice-weekly intimacy had been non-existent for over a month. Every time I tried to touch her, she would refuse, using work exhaustion as an excuse. I had been reduced to taking care of my own needs. Come to think of it, Emily had also been going to the gym more often lately, buying lots of new makeup, and putting more effort into her appearance than before. All at once, suspicion arose in my mind. The more I thought about it, the more things didn’t add up. I instantly lost my appetite for the steak, feeling a lump in my throat. I picked at the food halfheartedly, then gave up and sprawled on the couch, lost in thought. It was nearly midnight when Emily finally came home. She seemed surprised to see me still awake. “Why are you up so late?” she asked. “I was waiting for you to get home. I can’t sleep when you’re not here,” I said, probing, “What’s the deal with your boss, making you work overtime on Valentine’s Day?” “Ugh, don’t even ask. A last-minute project came up, we had to stay late working on a PowerPoint. I’m going to take a shower,” she said, heading straight for the bathroom. Hearing her turn on the shower, I stripped off my clothes and followed her in. I have to admit, Emily has an incredible body. Even though she’s in her 30s, her abs are still tight since she’s never had kids. Water droplets ran down her back, making her already fair skin look even more delicate. I wrapped my arms around her waist from behind. After so many years together, I knew all her sensitive spots by heart. Just as I was about to make my move, she stopped me. “Not tonight, it’s late and I’m tired. Another time, okay?” With that, she unceremoniously shooed me out. I felt a surge of emotion, but decided to let it go for now. After Emily finished her shower and got into bed, I ran my hand up her thigh. Her skin was incredibly soft and smooth after the shower, with the scent of body wash lingering. I instantly got aroused. But Emily rejected me again. This time I couldn’t hold back: “How long has it been since we’ve been intimate? It’s Valentine’s Day, I just wanted to be close to you, but you’re acting like this.” Seeing my anger, Emily quickly changed her tune. She came over and gave me a kiss. “I’m sorry baby, I really have been exhausted lately. I promise I’ll make it up to you soon.” I had no choice but to give up. As I lay in bed that night, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. I kept wanting to check Emily’s phone for any secrets. Suddenly I remembered that I had installed a dashcam in Emily’s car a while back. To test it out, I had even downloaded a cloud app on my phone that let me view past footage. I opened the app and scrolled through the timeline. At quitting time, I saw Emily indeed start her car, but then drive straight out to the suburbs. She finally stopped in front of a secluded hotel. A man had been waiting there and immediately embraced her when she arrived. Then the car shut off and the screen went black. I recognized that man – I had seen him once before when I went to pick up Emily at her office. She had introduced him as Steve, their company’s new VP who had just returned from overseas. Even back then, I had noticed how his eyes kept wandering to the female employees. And this Steve was a married man too! Seeing this footage, I felt like I had been doused with ice water. My blood ran cold from my spine to my heart. I was now 99% certain that Emily was cheating.

Emily and I had been together for 9 years, from falling in love in college to getting married. Though we had occasional arguments, we were happy most of the time. Thinking back on the joyful moments with Emily, then imagining her seeking pleasure with another man, an immense pain washed over me. Followed by anger. Part of me wanted to yank Emily out of bed and confront her loudly. I also wanted to pummel that cheating couple with my fists. But 9 years of love made it impossible for me to just let go. Caught in an internal struggle of pain and conflicting emotions, I didn’t sleep all night. In the morning when Emily got up, she acted like nothing was wrong. Seeing that I was still in bed, she even expressed concern. I said I wasn’t feeling well and wanted to rest for the day. She made me breakfast, gave me some reminders, then left for work. After calling in sick to work, I sat numbly on the bed, staring at the breakfast Emily had prepared. I tried to eat, but it tasted like sawdust. I felt incredibly torn. On one hand was 9 years of love and memories. On the other was concrete evidence of cheating. My mind kept wavering between confronting her and keeping quiet. After sitting there all morning, I decided to drive to that hotel to check it out. Following the GPS, I found the hotel – it really was in a remote location. I went to the front desk and made up a story about finding a lost bag in the stairwell, asking her to take a look. Once we were in the stairwell, I came clean about my real purpose, asking if she could help me check the records for my wife or Steve. Before she could respond, I took out $1000 in cash that I had prepared. “Don’t worry, I called you here because there are no cameras. I just want to confirm something. I won’t cause any trouble, and I promise this won’t affect you at all. I’m already planning to divorce her,” I said. The young receptionist looked hesitantly at the money. I could see her wavering, so I pushed the cash into her hand and stepped back, saying “You go ahead and check. I’ll wait here.” The receptionist pocketed the money and left. She returned shortly after, showing me Steve’s check-in information. They had booked a short-stay room. The receptionist even showed me security camera footage of the two of them entering the room, arms around each other. After seeing that, my last shred of hope was extinguished. Now I was 100% certain Emily was cheating! I thanked the receptionist and stumbled back to my car to drive home. Emily was already back when I got there. She asked where I’d been, and I made up an excuse. I was still debating whether to confront Emily when she spoke first: “Remember that new VP at our company, Steve? He’s pretty great – young and accomplished. Our team had a big screwup on a project recently, and he helped us fix it.” “Mmm.” Yeah, he’s so great he even got into your pants! I thought bitterly. Emily has always been somewhat introverted and not very talkative. This man must have used work as an excuse to get close to her! At that moment, I felt like an enraged beast, my features contorting with anger. Emily didn’t notice my reaction and kept talking. Looking at my chattering wife, I decided: I won’t confront her! I’m going to get revenge on that man instead.

Over the next few days, I first reached out to my childhood friend Alex. He works as a manager at a nightclub and knows all sorts of shady characters, including access to prostitutes. My revenge plan was to use his connections to find a high-class prostitute to seduce Steve, then tell his wife and kids. I wanted him to experience the pain of a broken family. After explaining my plan to Alex, he said I was being foolish and should just tell Steve’s wife directly. But I still hoped Emily would come to her senses. I didn’t want her to get hurt if this blew up with Steve’s family. Alex shook his head at my reasoning but respected my wishes. He showed me photos of several prostitutes. I have to admit, these women were stunning, each with their own unique charm. But Alex told me these women mainly did straightforward transactions for quick money. They might not be skilled enough to pull off a seduction scheme. Then he changed tack, “Actually, there is one perfect candidate, but…” Seeing him hesitate, I urged him to continue. “The thing is, she has syphilis.” Hearing that, I instantly lit up. This was absolutely perfect! Seeing my insistence, Alex didn’t want to get too involved in this kind of thing. He gave me the contact info for this prostitute named Rose and told me he’d let her know I’d be in touch. Alex is a trustworthy guy. We’ve known each other since childhood and I understand his character well. The next day, I met Rose at a coffee shop. From a distance, I was struck by how eye-catching she was. She had delicate features on a small oval face, with fair, tender skin that was stunningly beautiful. There was even a hint of scholarly refinement in her demeanor. Wearing a light blue dress, she turned heads as passersby mistook her for a university beauty queen. I was momentarily dazed looking at her, but then remembered her condition and snapped out of it. After Rose sat down, I explained my intentions directly. Hearing my proposal, she looked troubled and hesitant, saying it felt unethical. But when I said the man had destroyed my family, and that I could pay $50,000 upfront and another $50,000 after, Rose reconsidered. After mulling it over, she couldn’t resist the financial temptation and agreed. Then Rose shared her own story with me. She came from an ordinary family, but her beauty attracted boys from a young age. She started dating in middle school and neglected her studies. She dropped out of high school to work with her boyfriend at the time. After moving away, her boyfriend developed a gambling addiction and racked up huge debts. To make quick money to help pay off his debts, Rose turned to prostitution. Her looks helped her earn a lot quickly. Some clients would pay extra to skip protection, which she agreed to for the money. But when she came down with a persistent fever and tested positive, it was too late for regrets. By then her boyfriend had run off with all her money. Rose agreed to help me because she wanted to earn more to leave for her parents, knowing her time might be limited. Hearing her story brought tears to Rose’s eyes. I could only comfort her, realizing she had suffered greatly too. With Rose on board, the next step was to create an opportunity.

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