Category: English

Carey and I had been in a relationship for five years. A week before the wedding, I found a folder in his computer. It was full of photos and videos of another girl. I secretly applied to work in the branch and bought a plane ticket on the wedding day. He went crazy after knowing that I ran away from the wedding. ***** I stared at the photo of my boyfriend Carey and the girl on the computer. I felt like I was falling into an ice cave. We joined the same company after graduation. He was working overtime that night and urgently needed a document, so he asked me to send it to him. This was the first time I opened his computer. But I found a folder named separately in the pile of files. Only Love. My sixth sense made me click it, but I found that there were tens of thousands of photos and videos in it. They were all about the same girl. In the photos, the two of them smiled sweetly at the camera. In an instant, the memories of the past five years flooded into my mind. We had been together for so long, but there was not a single photo of me on his phone. No matter how I cried, he just said that he didn’t like taking pictures, and we saw each other every day, so there was no need to record. He never took my birthday and our anniversaries to heart. He said that those were just for other people to see, meaningless and easy to forget, so we simply didn’t celebrate them at all. It wasn’t until this moment that I realized that it wasn’t because it was unnecessary; it was just because that person wasn’t me. For five years, I had found all kinds of excuses for his perfunctory and indifference. The way I moved myself was like a joke. I suddenly remembered the shocked expressions of his friends when they heard that we were getting married. “How did you figure it out? We thought you really wanted to stay single for Cecilia!” At that time, I was immersed in the joy of Carey proposing to me, and said happily that I was his only one. Now I understood the meaning of that sentence. In Carey’s eyes, I was a complete clown. I took a deep breath and closed the computer. I wanted to ask him what was going on with these photos, but I found that I hadn’t received a reply from him to the message I reminded him in the morning to take wedding photos the next day. I closed my phone helplessly. In the past, I only thought that he was introverted and not good at expressing himself. Thinking about it now, it was just because he had another woman in his heart and he never opened up to me. There was less than a week left before our wedding. I suddenly wavered and didn’t know whether to insist on marrying him. I sat on the sofa for three or four hours until his friend called. They celebrated his bachelor party. “Yvonne, Carey is drunk. Please come pick him up. I’ll send you the address.” I heard Carey’s voice in the receiver. He was calling “Ceci”. My heart ached. His friend immediately hung up the phone in a panic. I changed my clothes and took my keys to go out. When I changed my shoes, I saw the little bear keychain I gave to Carey was thrown casually in a corner of the shoe cabinet. I found an original DIY shop to make graffiti by myself. He thought it was childish and never wore it. It turned out that some things had been traced long ago. The keychain on the ground seemed to be mercilessly mocking my inner monologue. A sense of unreasonable irritability surged in my heart. I took off my keychain and threw it into the trash can with the one on the ground. People who were not cherished were like key chains, which could only stay in the trash can. I took a taxi to the address his friend sent me. When I opened the door of the box, I heard a joking voice from inside. “Why is Ceci back? Did you come back to steal Carey because you knew he was getting married?”

I forced a smile and looked at the people playing in the box. The man who was going to marry me in a week was leaning on another woman’s arms. The others looked embarrassed and stopped joking. I had seen that woman’s face countless times on Carey’s computer a few hours ago. Carey’s friend saw that he was still clinging to Cecilia and quickly pulled him away. But Carey was too drunk and had a bad temper. “I want to be with Cecilia. Don’t touch me!” His friend had no choice but to whisper in his ear, “Yvonne is here to pick you up! Wake up!” Seeing this, the others came forward to help and finally pulled Carey off Cecilia. Carey lay on the sofa with his head up, his face flushed, and he was still mumbling “Ceci”. His friend quickly introduced her to me. “This is Cecilia Baker. We are friends from college. She just came back from abroad. Carey is drunk and hasn’t seen her for a long time. Don’t think too much…” If it were in the past, I would definitely make a scene and ask them why they invited Cecilia when they knew that Carey and I were getting married. But now I just wanted to leave this place quickly. “I suddenly found that your profile looks quite similar. Ceci, she is Carey’s fiancée Yvonne Zander.” Cecilia on the side looked at me as if I were a clown, which made me feel embarrassed. Carey, who was lying on the sofa, suddenly opened his eyes and explained anxiously. “She’s a friend!” It was not the first time that Carey refused to disclose my identity. He didn’t allow me to post his photos on social media and refused to meet my friends. He didn’t even tell our relatives that we were about to get married. It seemed that I was the only one who took this relationship seriously. I bet our five-year relationship unwillingly. Unexpectedly, I still lost. I took a deep breath, reached out to Cecilia, and forced a smile. “Hello. I’m Carey’s girlfriend, Yvonne. You look much better in person than in the photo.” Their expressions changed instantly because of what I said. The room was eerily quiet. Everyone looked at each other, not knowing what to say. Cecilia smiled disapprovingly and reached out to shake my hand. I turned around to help Carey, who was drunk and unconscious. Even when he was drunk, he refused my touch. He pushed me to the ground with an unhappy look. “Get out! Who allows you to touch me? I want Ceci to take me home.” Cecilia smiled helplessly. “Why are you still trying to be tough when you’re drunk like before?” At that moment, the string in my mind was completely broken. Carey’s friend hurried to explain for him. “Yvonne, don’t think too much. He was just drunk.” I helped him up from the sofa expressionlessly. This time he didn’t resist. While we were waiting for the car downstairs, Cecilia chased us out. She looked at Carey’s face tenderly. She reminded me carefully. “Carey can’t drink much. He gets a migraine easily after drinking. Please wipe his face with a hot towel when you get home. Press his temples and he will feel better. You can put a glass of water by his bed. He will get mad like a child if he can’t find water to drink.” Carey never told me this. It was impossible for me not to feel disgusted when I heard these little habits of his from another woman. I gritted my teeth and said nothing. When I was about to get in the car, she stopped me again. “Why don’t you add me on Facebook? You can ask me if you have any questions in the future.”

I felt like my teeth were about to shatter and my body couldn’t stop shaking. Cecilia held her phone out to me with an innocent look, as if she really just wanted to help me. I nodded and added her on Facebook. After getting in the car, I threw Carey on the seat and looked at the night view flying by outside the window. My tears finally fell uncontrollably. I had heard about the influence of first love before, but I didn’t take it seriously. I thought that being together day and night could overcome everything. But after seeing it with my own eyes, I was defeated. Carey’s phone rang several times on the way. Some of the messages were from his friend asking if he had arrived home. I unlocked the screen and wanted to reply politely, but I saw the chat history between him and his friend. [Ceci told me that she is back. She must have heard that I was getting married!] [My marriage to Yvonne was fake, just to get Ceci back. Don’t tell anyone.] I looked at the two messages in disbelief and locked the screen suddenly. My heart seemed to be grabbed by a big hand, and my breathing became rapid. My tears flowed down like a bursting river. No wonder he suddenly proposed to me a week ago. There were no surprise, ring, or gifts. No wonder he didn’t let me announce the news on social media or tell my family. I thought my efforts finally moved him. I didn’t expect that the wedding I had been looking forward to for five years was just a means for him to get his first love to return home. Carey was a little sober after arriving home. He pushed me away and went to the bathroom to wash up. When I brought the water upstairs, he was lying on the bed with a look of discomfort. I put the glass on the bedside and reached out to press his temple gently with my fingertips. After a few seconds, he opened his eyes and grabbed my wrist with a ferocious look. “Where did you learn this? Don’t touch me!” He shook my hand off fiercely, turned his back to me, and resisted my approach. I smiled bitterly. He didn’t even want me to know about this habit. The same action I did was a very bad imitation in his eyes. I lay on the sofa, unable to fall asleep. I simply took out my phone and clicked on Cecilia’s Facebook profile. Her Facebook background was a photo with Carey. In the photo, they were wearing one scarf under the heavy snow, smiling sweetly at the camera. She hadn’t posted much in the past few years, so it was easy for me to flip back to five years ago. At that time, she hadn’t gone abroad yet. She and Carey enthusiastically showed off their daily love to everyone. I also discovered another side of Carey. He didn’t want to stay up late to spend New Year’s Eve with me. But he could wait outside for several hours on a cold night just to take pictures of the first snow that Cecilia wanted to see. He didn’t remember my birthday, but he would prepare a birthday surprise for her half a month in advance. If Cecilia hadn’t gone abroad, they agreed to get married after graduation. My eyes were blurred by tears unconsciously. I always thought Carey just didn’t understand romance. It turned out that it was because I was not important and he didn’t want to spend time with me. In the two years they were together, Cecilia posted hundreds of posts. I was like a thief spying on other people’s happiness. The next day was the day we agreed to take wedding photos. Carey got up early as if nothing had happened. When he came out of the bathroom, he had already dressed up carefully. He was wearing a handmade suit, sprayed perfume. He even shaved and had his hair done. Seeing him take it so seriously, I suddenly felt a glimmer of hope.   During the five years we were together, he didn’t allow me to go out with him. He said he didn’t like people staring at him. He was gone when I finished washing up. I took a taxi to the bridal shop alone. He was still nowhere to be seen until I finished my makeup and changed into my wedding dress. There were other people waiting to be photographed behind me, so I took out my phone and called him. After a beep, it showed that the call could not be connected. His phone was turned off. I waited in the bridal shop until the afternoon and called him countless times. Finally, I couldn’t make excuses for him anymore. I looked at the confused staff and smiled forcefully. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I will pay the money. Let’s call it a day today.” Finally, I changed back into my own clothes and went home. I thought he dressed up carefully for me, but reality woke me up again. He didn’t care about me, so how could he remember the agreement to take wedding photos with me? Carey returned home at 11 o’clock in the evening. He turned on the light and was startled to see me sitting on the sofa. “Do you want to scare me to death by sitting there like a dead person in the middle of the night?” He was drunk and couldn’t walk steadily. “Where have you been today?” I looked at him. My eyes were so sour that I couldn’t cry anymore. Carey looked impatient. “I’m working overtime at the company. Can you stop being so suspicious?” I sneered. I had already asked, and the company had approved a week of wedding leave for him. What kind of overtime did he work? “Don’t you know to come over and help me?” If it were the past, I would definitely run around to prepare bath water and sobering soup for him. Seeing me sitting on the sofa without moving, he called out. I got up. And before I got close, I smelled the perfume mixed with the smell of alcohol. It was exactly the same as Cecilia’s that night. I suddenly felt a little sick. It turned out that he left me alone in the bridal shop to find her. “Carey, do you know that today is the day you promised me to take wedding photos?” His blushing face was stiff for a moment. After I said that, I turned and went upstairs. I heard him cursing behind me. “You’re angry with me because of this? What’s wrong with you? Did I forget it on purpose? How did I know I had to work overtime today?” I closed the door and didn’t listen to his harsh words. I covered my mouth and slid down to the floor against the wall to stop myself from crying. Cecilia posted a photo on Facebook a few minutes ago. The delicious food in the photo looked appetizing. She smiled shyly at the camera. I could see the back of a man in a handmade suit in the kitchen behind her. She wrote:[There is no one else in my sight. After all the twists and turns, it’s still you. I believe we still have many years to go!] He disappeared for a whole day to celebrate her birthday. I buried my head in my knees and let the tears flow. The result of this relationship was obvious. I didn’t know what I was still holding on to. Carey went to the guest room to sleep after taking a shower. The next day he ignored me and went out. He was waiting for me to give in and admit my mistakes to him as I had done before. I called my boss. “Gavin, is there still a spot for the branch office you mentioned last time? I’ve made up my mind. I want to go.” He was very happy and relieved. “Okay. I’ll submit your information now. But aren’t you getting married soon…” “It’s okay. Don’t worry. I’m not getting married.”   I booked a flight ticket for the wedding day and set a countdown to remind myself. In the next three days, I packed my luggage and went back to the company to complete the handover. Carey went out early and came home late every day. There was no doubt that he must have gone to accompany Cecilia. Maybe because he saw my cold attitude towards him, Carey did not go out for the first time that day. He offered to take me out for dinner to make up for standing me up last time when taking wedding photos. I did not refuse, thinking that it would be good to have a farewell dinner at the end. His phone rang before the dishes were served. He hung up quickly and looked at me. “Yvonne, I need to go to the bathroom.” I saw through his poor excuse and nodded. He walked out with a sense of relief. Two minutes later, I waved to the waiter. “We can pay the bill.” The waiter looked puzzled. “But the dishes are not served yet. You haven’t eaten yet…” “It’s okay. I’ll pay the bill now.” If I guessed correctly, Carey wouldn’t come back. Even for this last meal, he still left me to find Cecilia. But I was no longer upset. The next day was the day of my wedding with Carey, and also the day I went to the branch office. In the evening, when I was explaining my departure on the phone, Carey suddenly opened the door and came in. After I hung up the phone, he asked me, “Leaving? Where are you going?” I replied indifferently, “Nothing. I’m going on a business trip for a few days.” He didn’t ask again, or maybe he was too lazy to care about me. He put the cake in his hand in front of me as if to please me. “I went to buy you the cake you like. When I went back, the waiter said you had already left.” It took him five hours to buy this cake. I didn’t expose him. I just smiled at the mango on it. Carey breathed a sigh of relief and laughed out loud. “I knew you would like it!” “It’s been five years, and you still don’t remember that I’m allergic to mangoes.” His expression changed instantly. He stood there at a loss, trying to explain anxiously, but couldn’t say anything. After returning to the room, I saw a Facebook post from Cecilia. The picture was Carey’s back as he helped her fix the faucet in the bathroom. She wrote:[You’ll come whenever I need you. I feel at ease with you around.] I knew she posted it to me on purpose. I sneered, turned off my phone, and slept all night with my clothes on. The countdown on my phone had turned to zero. The next day, I got up, washed, and headed straight to the airport. I suddenly felt very fortunate that the wedding was fake. No one else knew except his few friends. Fortunately, I didn’t tell my parents. Otherwise, I really didn’t know how to explain it to them. After getting out of the taxi, I called Carey to break up. As soon as the call was connected, his irritable voice came out. “Why are you rushing? I won’t run away. “Ceci went to the hospital due to a pollen allergy while trying to buy you flowers. I’ll be over once I finish here. “Comfort my friends. I’ll talk to you later!” After that, he hung up the phone impatiently. I was calm and sent him a message with a blank expression. [Let’s break up. I’ll leave the wedding to you two.]

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My brother, Nathan Ortega, dropped dead from exhaustion after working 48 hours straight. By the time I rushed to the hospital, Nathan had already been cremated. I didn’t even have time to grieve before the people from an underground casino came knocking on my door, demanding repayment. Only then did I learn Nathan had racked up over a hundred million dollars in gambling debts, and I was the sole heir in his will. To pay off the debt, I was forced to drop out of school and was sold by the casino to a red-light district in some backward country. But then I saw Nathan, who was supposed to be dead, dressed in designer clothes and attending a performance with my best friend, Jillian Sanderson. Nathan tossed out a crisp two-hundred-dollar bill and smiled as he thanked me for my “sacrifice.” I was so enraged I passed out on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Nathan had “died.” ***** “Sara, you have to stay strong… We did everything we could, but Nathan still…” My best friend Jillian, who also happened to be Nathan’s attending physician, looked at me with a worried expression. She helped me sit down and spoke with regret and sorrow, “You shouldn’t see the body. I know how close you two were. I’m afraid you won’t be able to handle it.” I stared at her familiar face, then glanced down at my unharmed body, stunned. I thought, “Did I… just get a second chance?” I couldn’t believe it. I had been granted a miraculous opportunity to rewrite my fate. In my previous life, when I’d heard the news of Nathan’s sudden death, I’d run five red lights in a frenzy to get to the hospital. But I was still too late. I held his death certificate in my hands and cried until I passed out. When I woke up, Nathan had already been cremated. All that remained of him was a box of ashes. I hadn’t even processed my grief when the people from the underground casino came to collect his debts. That was when I learned Nathan had left me with over a hundred million dollars in gambling debts. Our house was auctioned off, and my grandmother, Karol Ortega, sold off the family business. I had to drop out of school and ended up renting a dingy basement to survive. But I still couldn’t pay off the debt. Eventually, the mob boss sold me to a backward country, where they cut off my limbs and displayed me like some freak show. One day, during a performance, I saw Nathan, who had supposedly been dead for five years, laughing and chatting with Jillian as they walked past me. Nathan mocked me, saying, “Thanks for your sacrifice, Sara. I couldn’t have this life without you.” I was so overwhelmed with rage that I couldn’t even speak. I could only cry and scream. That was when I found out he was my father’s illegitimate son. I died of anger on that stage, while Nathan walked away without a care. Snapping back to the present, I saw Jillian handing me a glass of water. “Here, drink some water. Don’t wear yourself out.” I accepted the glass but didn’t drink it. In my last life, I’d drunk that water and passed out, and when I woke up, everything was too late. It was obvious there was something in it. Jillian glanced at the clock, then turned to find someone to have Nathan taken out of the ER. I rushed forward, grabbing the edge of the bed as I screamed, my voice raw and desperate. “No! Let me see Nathan one last time! He can’t leave me alone!” “Nathan! What am I supposed to do without you?” I wailed as I yanked the white sheet off Nathan’s body. Jillian cried out in shock, but it was too late—the sheet fell away, revealing Nathan’s face, still unnaturally rosy. In my last life, I’d been too stupid to notice these clues. Suppressing the fury that surged within me, I raised my hand and slapped Nathan across the face with all my strength. Jillian let out a shriek, thinking I’d lost control. “Sara! He’s your brother! How could you hit him like that? I know you’re upset, but…” I ignored her completely. Gripping the key in my hand, I jabbed it hard into that scumbag’s stomach. Tears streaming down my face, I sobbed, “You bastard! How could you leave me all alone to go find Mom and Dad? What am I supposed to do without you? “I kept telling you to stop working overtime, to stop burning yourself out, but you never listened…” Jillian, thinking I hadn’t uncovered the truth, let out a breath of relief. Seeing my breakdown, she seemed concerned for Nathan. “Sara, take it easy. Nathan… he can still feel pain…” I stopped crying and stared at her like she was an idiot. “Do dead people feel pain?” Jillian froze, panic flashing across her face as she stammered, “That’s not what I meant. I just…” Unable to explain herself, she regretted saying anything at all and quickly tried to change the subject. “Sara, I called Madam Ortega earlier. She said Nathan has to be cremated today. “She’s just so heartbroken. She wants to take care of everything as soon as possible.” I clenched my fists and laughed coldly in my heart. I thought, “Cremation today? Perfect. If Nathan wanted to play dead, I’d make sure he got the full experience. I’d send him straight into the crematorium myself.”

“No, absolutely not. Before anything else, I want Nathan to have a proper funeral. He deserves to leave with dignity.” I clutched Nathan’s hand tightly, tears streaming down my face. Outside the ER, a small crowd of patients had gathered, watching the scene unfold. As I sobbed, I suddenly turned to Jillian. “Jillian, feel Nathan’s hand. Doesn’t it feel warm? Is it possible… could he still be alive?” Jillian frowned and pulled out the death certificate. “Sara, Nathan is gone. Maybe you’re just warming his hand yourself.” I kept sniffling, ignoring the murmurs of the onlookers who tried to console me with well-meaning but useless words. I pulled out my phone and made a call. “Yes, my brother just passed away. I’d like to donate his organs. Please come quickly.” Jillian’s face turned ghostly pale. Her hands trembled, but she didn’t dare stop me. She fumbled for her phone, hastily typing out a message. I noticed her actions but didn’t intervene. “Sara, Nathan… never said he wanted to donate his organs,” she stammered. I didn’t respond. Moments later, the organ donation team arrived. Jillian tried to block their way. But I played the role of the grieving sister, my voice trembling with emotion. “Nathan was always so kind. I believe he’d want his life to help others continue theirs.” The team of medical staff looked at me with gratitude. “Your family’s generosity will save so many lives. Thank you. “What organs would you like to donate?” I glanced at Nathan and wiped away my tears. “He died suddenly, so… everything. Take whatever is still usable.” Jillian’s expression shifted dramatically. She hurried to stand in front of Nathan’s bed. “Sara, Nathan told me before that he didn’t want to donate his organs!” I looked at her, my eyes narrowing with suspicion. “Jillian, I’m Nathan’s sister. It’s my decision. You’re my friend. Why are you so protective of my brother? “The more you delay, the faster his organs will deteriorate. As a doctor, don’t you understand how vital this is for those waiting for a transplant?” The other medical staff nodded in agreement. “Dr. Sanderson, please step aside. Don’t interfere.” Jillian was visibly panicking now. She stammered, “Sara, I already contacted Madam Ortega. At least… let her see Nathan one last time.” I smirked internally. “So, she really was messaging Karol just now,” I thought. This was what I wanted. I never actually intended to donate Nathan’s organs. If they took him away, his fake death might be exposed. I wouldn’t let that happen. I just wanted to force Karol to show up. I wanted her to watch helplessly as Nathan “died” and know there was nothing she could do about it. Sure enough, less than ten minutes later, Karol burst into the room. She was still dressed in her shopping clothes, her makeup barely smudged. The moment she saw Nathan lying on the hospital bed, she let out a sigh of relief. But then she turned on me, her face twisted with rage, and slapped me hard. “You wicked girl! You killed your parents, and now you want to donate Nathan’s organs?” “You monsters! If anyone touches a single hair on his head, I’ll kill their entire family!” She spat venomous insults at me, her voice filled with fury. She shoved the organ donation staff aside with unrestrained aggression. “We’re not donating anything! Get out! All of you, leave!” The doctors, though regretful, didn’t want to escalate the situation. Shaking their heads, they left the room. Jillian let out a sigh of relief once they were gone. Before Nathan’s fake death, I’d already suspected their relationship wasn’t normal. But I never imagined that someone I’d called a friend for over a decade would conspire with my brother to destroy me. I wanted nothing more than to rip her apart. Karol sat down in a chair, her dramatic performance of grief utterly unconvincing. She began berating me. “You ungrateful brat! Your brother just died, and instead of mourning, you’re trying to give his organs away? “If you’re so eager to donate something, why don’t you just drop dead yourself?” Tears streamed down my face as I whispered, “Grandma, I was wrong. I was so wrong…” Karol slapped me again, the sharp sting numbing half my face. “Stop causing trouble! I’ll take Nathan to be cremated myself!” I didn’t argue. Instead, I picked up the glass of water Jillian had poured earlier and handed it to Karol. “Grandma, have some water first.” Jillian’s eyes widened in shock. Before she could snatch the glass away, Karol had already downed it in one gulp. She’d rushed over, shouted at everyone, and cursed me out. It was no wonder she was thirsty. Jillian muttered under her breath, “This is bad… this is really bad…” Not even a minute later, Karol slumped in the chair, fast asleep. Jillian broke into a cold sweat. When she saw me stand up and fix my gaze on her, she swallowed nervously. “Sara… what are you planning to do now?”

My eyes were red as I carefully draped the white sheet over Nathan’s face. I turned to Jillian. “My grandmother said nothing more can be done.” “Jillian, she must have fainted from grief. Please take care of her. I’m taking Nathan to the crematorium myself. He’ll be cremated immediately.” Jillian’s face turned deathly pale. “Sara, there’s no rush to cremate him. At least wait until Madam Ortega wakes up.” I narrowed my eyes at her. “Jillian, weren’t you just saying earlier that time is critical? Now you’re stalling. “You’re acting like the living aren’t as important as the dead. We’ve been friends for years, but why are you stopping me at every turn today? What are you trying to do? “This is my brother. Don’t I have the right to take care of him?” Jillian was frantic, but she could only watch as I called the crematorium. They arrived quickly, ready to take Nathan away. That was when Jillian couldn’t hold back anymore. With tears in her eyes, she grabbed my arm. “Sara, I saw his hand move. We can still save him!” I stared her down and held up the death certificate. “Jillian, you were the one who declared Nathan dead just moments ago. “Do you know how much your hospital will have to pay if you’re wrong? Negligence that results in death could put you in prison!” Jillian’s lips quivered, but she gritted her teeth and still tried to block me. “You can’t do this!” I pushed her away and followed the crematorium van as it left. In the vehicle, I looked at Nathan’s tightly shut eyes. Thinking about how he’d truly die soon, I couldn’t help but laugh. In my last life, when I ran into him overseas, he seemed to be doing just fine. Nathan had stood before me, narrowing his eyes as he sized me up. “Sara, how did you end up like this?” I wanted to ask why he was still alive, but my tongue had already been cut out by then. Nathan had sneered. “If I didn’t fake my death, how else would I have gotten all that money from the company? “Blame that woman for wanting to leave the company to you instead of me. “But what can I do? I’m not her biological son. I had no choice but to trick you.” Jillian, standing beside him, spat in my face. “Nathan, just looking at her brings bad luck.” Nathan slapped two hundred dollars onto my face and walked off with her in his arms. That was the last thing I remembered. Snapping back to the present, I noticed Nathan’s fingers twitch. I guessed the effects of the sedative were wearing off. Now that he’d heard he was about to be cremated, he was desperate to wake up. “Driver, could you please speed up? My grandmother wishes for my brother to find peace as soon as possible.” The driver obliged, slamming on the gas pedal and racing toward the crematorium. I leaned close to Nathan’s ear and whispered, “Nathan, I know you’re faking it. You, Jillian, and our grandmother are all in on this, trying to make me pay off your gambling debts. “But I’m a good person. I’ve decided to honor your wish and get you cremated right away. “I know you can hear me, you heartless bastard. In my last life, I trusted you, and I died miserably. So don’t blame me for being ruthless this time.” As I finished speaking, a tear rolled down Nathan’s cheek. I chuckled, wiping it away. “Why are you crying already? We’re not even there yet. Save it for when you’re in the furnace.” With the driver’s aggressive speed, we reached the crematorium in just fifteen minutes. There were more than ten people ahead of us, but I couldn’t wait. I went straight to the person in charge. He said there was no cutting in line, but the way he rubbed his fingers together told a different story. I transferred him three thousand dollars and smiled. “Please, sir, help me out.” With the help of money, Nathan successfully jumped the line. In less than five minutes, they wheeled him into the cremation chamber. I made up an excuse, saying I wanted to bid farewell, and asked to press the start button myself. But just as I was about to, I heard Karol and Jillian’s voices yelling from outside. “Stop! You can’t burn him!” They rushed in frantically. Karol slapped me hard across the face. “Are you trying to kill Nathan?” I wailed, tears streaming down my face. “Grandma, Nathan is already gone! Why won’t you let him be cremated?” Jillian stood in front of the cremation chamber, her voice trembling. “Sara, don’t do this… Your grandmother still has things she wants to say to Nathan.” Karol was still shaky from the lingering effects of the sedative. “You little brat! Get out of here! All of you, leave!” I laughed coldly inside but cried and knelt on the ground, kowtowing. “Grandma, please let Nathan rest in peace! I’m begging you.” “Please…” The staff and the families waiting behind us started muttering in frustration. “What’s all this fuss about? Hurry up!” “He’s already dead. What’s left to say?” “Stop wasting everyone’s time!” One impatient family member stepped forward, reaching to press the start button. Karol and Jillian screamed, lunging to stop them. But in their frantic rush, the two of them collided and accidentally slammed the button themselves. Flames roared to life, engulfing Nathan’s body in an instant. “No!” “Ahhh!”

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Six months ago, my husband, Matthew Wright, hired a stunning new secretary, Everly Tate. They were inseparable in public, always holding hands without a hint of shame. The entire company was waiting for me, the CEO’s wife, to become the laughingstock. Behind closed doors, they even placed bets that my husband would divorce me within three months. I watched them making out in the back seat of the car and calmly started recording on my phone. They were right about one thing, divorce was coming. But I would be the one walking away. I tapped on the car window. The window rolled down, and my husband’s face twisted with annoyance at the interruption. “Nicole Samson, Everly is just a secretary. Must you harass us every single day?” In the past, I would have made a scene. But now, I just smiled sweetly, “The house is all cleaned up. You’ll be much more comfortable there.” ***** When Matthew stepped out of the car to scold me, his wrinkled shirt still bore traces of lipstick. “Nicole, are you following me?” I shook my head and replied in a neutral tone, “I’m just shopping. I didn’t expect to run into you and her working here.” But Matthew wasn’t buying it. He grabbed my wrist tightly, speaking through gritted teeth. “Cut the act. Your comment was clearly implying something is going on between us. “I’ve told you many times, me and…” I cut him off with a smile. “I know, you guys are just colleagues. I must have seen wrong through the car window. I apologize to Ms. Tate.” I bowed my head apologetically without protest. A complete departure from my usual argumentative self. Matthew’s expression froze. I reached up to fix his collar, my fingers deliberately brushing over the lipstick mark. “Ms. Tate’s lipstick quality seems rather poor. Why don’t we go pick out a better one at the counter? My treat.” As soon as the words left my mouth, Matthew slapped me across the face. “Nicole, what’s with the snide remarks? “Evie is so busy every day that she doesn’t have time for these petty things.” I stood frozen in place. So he knew all along that busy people had no time for appearances. Yet he’d rejected my promotion application back then, citing my “unkempt appearance” as the reason. But none of that matters to me anymore. I kept recording on my phone until they walked out of the jewelry store, hand in hand, with two jade bracelets. I sent the video to my divorce lawyer. [These gifts he’s buying for his mistress. They count as our shared marital property, right?] The reply came quickly: [Yes, Ms. Samson. Are you sure you want to skip mediation and go straight to litigation? That might require more time for evidence collection and trial preparation.] I replied without hesitation: [Absolutely.] If he dared to have an affair during our marriage, he must be prepared to leave with nothing. Matthew was right about one thing. As someone with “nothing better to do”, I certainly have plenty of time to study these legal provisions. My phone chimed with a final message from the lawyer. [To prove the husband’s infidelity and violation of the prenuptial agreement, please continue gathering evidence discreetly, just as you did today.] Shortly after I got home, Matthew reluctantly returned as well. He tossed his perfume-scented shirt onto the couch and ordered. “I have a meeting tomorrow. Make sure you iron this again.” I nodded obediently, then dumped his dirty clothes on the floor. After throwing them in the washing machine, I prepared for bed. I already had trouble sleeping. Just when I finally dozed off, someone shook me awake roughly. “Get up. Everly called, saying her throat hurt. I need to go check on her.” My temples throbbed and my heart raced as I nodded weakly with a pale face. Then he added matter-of-factly, “Stop being dramatic and pretending to be sick. “Make an apple pie and drive it over later.” I pressed my throbbing temples, laughing with rage. “Apple pie, huh? Well, tell her to look forward to it!” But Matthew remained oblivious as he threw on his coat and rushed out. I opened Grabfood with practiced ease. Carefully selected and ordered an apple pie worth a whopping four dollars and fifty-six cents. To show my sincerity, I even transferred the pie from its cheap black plastic container to high-end dinnerware. I decided to deliver it personally. When I knocked on Everly’s door, Matthew answered with an irritated expression. “What took so long to make the pie?” Before I could speak, Everly, lounging on the sofa, cleared her throat theatrically. “Boss, don’t be so harsh! It’s late, and Nicole’s always been prejudiced against me. “It’s understandable if she didn’t want to deliver it.” Her words were sweet, but her eyes were full of challenge. I knew she was waiting for me to make a scene. But I just smiled and walked into her house with casual familiarity, cutting a slice of pie. “Isn’t your throat sore, Ms. Tate? You should rest your voice and eat something.” Everly’s expression turned complex as she stared at the appetizing pie in my hands. Matthew was taken aback, completely surprised by my sudden compliance. He snatched the pie from my hands and demanded, “What are you up to this time?”

“What am I up to?” I couldn’t help but laugh. Ever since Everly showed up, she had been walking all over me like she owned the place. And Matthew? He couldn’t be happier about it. I was blind before, either picking fights with Everly in public or getting into screaming matches with Matthew. In the end, everyone turned against me. They called me a drama queen who stirred up trouble for no reason. Looking back now, I really did mess up badly. Who was I to cause trouble anymore? I looked at Matthew, keeping my expression neutral. “Didn’t you ask me to bring the apple pie? Or is Ms. Tate allergic to apples?” I made sure to show a hint of concern. “Oh my bad, my bad! Matthew, quick, give me back the pie before Ms. Tate has an allergic reaction, and it affects her work!” I played both parts perfectly, reaching for the apple pie. After a couple of deliberate fumbles, I watched as the sticky pie spilled all over Everly’s clothes and the pristine white fabric sofa. Everly let out a startled cry. Her exposed skin at the neckline, where the apple pie had spilled, turned a rosy pink. Matthew’s eyes narrowed as he pulled Everly close and roughly shoved me away. The bowl in my hands shattered, slicing my palm and splattering blood across the floor. He ignored my injury completely and snarled, “What’s wrong with you? You’re almost thirty and useless! You can’t even hold a damn apple pie steady!” I was used to his rough treatment by now and just gritted my teeth while pressing down on the wound. Head bowed, I murmured, “I’m so sorry… the house isn’t really livable right now… “Perhaps Ms. Tate could stay at our place for the night?” The suggestion sounded absurd even to my ears. But it struck precisely the chord I intended. They were probably dying to spend more time together anyway, and it would give me perfect access to the dozen surveillance cameras I had at home. Sure enough, Everly couldn’t resist. Right in front of me, she draped herself around Matthew’s neck, deliberately pressing against him. Her pale pink skin peeked through the semi-sheer fabric as she tentatively offered, “Mr. Wright… maybe I should just go ahead and…” But his expression darkened as he pushed away the advancing Everly. “There’s no need for that! It’s too late to be moving around.” But Everly wouldn’t give up, clutching his hand with a wounded look. “But the apple pie burned my chest. It really hurts… And Nicole already agreed. Please take me home to put some medicine on it!” After a brief exchange, Matthew gave in to her request. Before leaving, though, there wasn’t a trace of a smile on his face. He just fixed me with a long, dark stare. I stood by the window, waiting until their car disappeared before sending Matthew a casual message. [I need to clean up the apple pie mess. I won’t be coming home tonight.] [Take care of Ms. Tate. Don’t wait up for me.] My phone helpfully chimed, indicating all cameras were connected to the cloud, ready for online storage and playback. I remained silent, a slight smile playing on my lips. When I arrived home the next day, I was surprised to find Matthew there. He looked up as I entered, his gaze heavy and his expression unreadable. “Matthew, why are you home?” Instead of answering, he grabbed my waist. “What was that about last night?” “Stop it!” I brushed his hand away, pretending not to understand. Heading straight to the kitchen, I said, “Is Ms. Tate’s throat still bothering her? I picked up some medicine this morning. Remember to tell her to come by the house…” Before I could finish, the medicine bag was suddenly snatched from my hand. Matthew’s face darkened as he roughly shoved me onto the couch. “Nicole, who are you trying to fool with this act? I’ve never seen anyone push their husband towards another woman!” He towered over me, his eyes filled with disgust. “Looks like you’ve found a new angle. You’re trying to make me sick by playing the perfect little housemaid, aren’t you?” I looked up at him and could only laugh at the absurdity. Once upon a time, I genuinely saw myself as his wife, repeatedly claiming my place whenever I needed to. But how did that end? With a harsh slap across my face and being thrown out of our home. Now that I had proof in my hands, I was finally showing him a bit of kindness. And somehow, that didn’t please him either. Men were such pathetic creatures. Anger flared in my chest as I shot him an icy glare. “I’m only concerned about Ms. Tate. After all, you said she’s your right-hand woman. Without her, the company’s operations would suffer. “I’m just thinking about the company.” But Matthew let out a sudden, scornful laugh. “We’ve been married for so many years. Why are you putting on an act?” In the next instant, he grabbed my collar and snatched a camera from the table. “You didn’t seriously think I wouldn’t catch on to your little scheme, did you? “What’s this? Stooping to such dirty tricks just to confirm your disgusting suspicions!”

My eyes widened as my heart jumped. Still, I forced myself to respond calmly. “They’re just security cameras. You’re the head of the household. They weren’t installed because of you.” As I spoke, I handed Matthew my phone, openly showing him the camera system’s backend. “If you want to check, I can share the backend access with you, too.” Matthew snatched the phone and immediately deleted last night’s footage. I pretended not to notice, deliberately putting on a dejected expression. “Matthew,” I began, my voice thick with emotion, “Do you realize you haven’t been home in two months? Not counting yesterday, that is.” My eyes welled up with tears as I looked down with a bitter smile. “It’s a huge house, thousands of square feet, and I’m all alone. I… I get scared sometimes, you know?” Matthew paused from browsing through the surveillance footage. “I was so frightened lately. I couldn’t sleep, so I installed about a dozen cameras. If you don’t like them, we can turn them off in the backend.” My calculated display of vulnerability immediately pleased Matthew. He pulled me into a protective embrace and said soothingly, “Let’s forget about this time, but tell me if you’re ever scared in the future. “Nicole, no matter what, you’re my only wife and the woman I love most. “Just stop picking fights with Everly, and after your birthday, we can try for a baby.” I nodded obediently while inwardly sneering. Soon after, my birthday celebration arrived. In our first year of marriage, Matthew had held my hand, his eyes full of love. “Nicole, whether we’re rich or poor, I promise I’ll always treat your birthday as the most important day of the year! “I’ll forever thank Heaven for sending me my one true love on this day!” He was indeed a man of his word. Even now with Everly as his mistress, he still threw me a grand birthday party. Of course, I might have been more touched if anyone had remembered to get a cake for the birthday girl. I stood among the well-dressed crowd in my everyday clothes, silently watching the couple holding hands on stage. What a perfect match. Under the guise of a “birthday party”, Matthew worked the room with a wine glass in hand, exchanging business cards left and right. They eagerly discussed various business collaborations and partnerships. Everyone had forgotten this party was meant to be my birthday celebration, everyone except Everly. As the wine flowed, the atmosphere reached its peak. Feeling irritated, I decided to leave. Suddenly, someone grabbed my arm. “Nicole, you’re the guest of honor! How can you leave so early? Don’t tell me you’re upset because Mr. Wright’s been busy with work all night?” I turned to face Everly’s beaming expression, my face darkening. Matthew spotted us from across the room and rushed over, pulling Everly into his arms. “Nicole, are you trying to start trouble with Everly again at a time like this?” He hissed, his eyes burning with anger. “You’re thirty now! Can’t you read the room like Everly does? “Are you really making a scene in front of everyone just because we didn’t get you a cake? Do you know how many cakes I could buy with the contracts I’ve secured tonight?” I smiled faintly at the growing impatience and disgust in his eyes. “Matthew, it’s just a birthday. There will be plenty more. Why would I be angry over something so small?” My smile, free of any resentment, only seemed to deepen the darkness in Matthew’s eyes. The glass in his hand froze midair. “What’s with the attitude? I threw you this huge party! What more could you possibly want?” I raised my glass and lightly clinked it against his. “I’m thrilled about such a grand party! Besides, these are just minor details. You and Ms. Tate just focus on having a good time.” Matthew snapped, gripping my wrist and hissing in my ear, “Fine, I admit I messed up! I’ll make it up to you with a vacation to Malt Island when I have time, okay?” I curved my lips into a smile. Back when I loved him, I knew he had trouble admitting his faults. Whenever he made the first move to apologize, I would forgive him unconditionally. But now, I couldn’t care less about his apologies. Tonight, I would destroy both him and his mistress. I pulled my hand away and smiled sweetly. “I need to grab something from the car. I’ll be right back.” When I returned, I held a black velvet box in my hands. I walked in and immediately linked arms with Everly, who stood beside Matthew and headed straight for the stage. As all eyes in the room turned to us, the large screen behind me went dark, then began playing the video automatically.   The two figures in the video became entangled the moment they entered the room. In just ten seconds of footage, several pieces of clothing were already scattered across the floor. The video ended with Matthew lifting Everly onto the bedroom bed, pinning her beneath him. As the screen went black, a spotlight suddenly illuminated Everly and me. Her face was as white as chalk. The microphone amplified my voice to fill the entire room. I turned to face Everly in her elegant attire and spoke with sincere politeness, “I’ve always known Ms. Tate to be meticulous and talented at her work. “However, I never realized she was so dedicated to performing such… round-the-clock services. “Since it’s my birthday today, I’d like to thank Ms. Tate for her hard work specially. “While my husband manages our family assets, I can at least offer Ms. Tate a vacation opportunity on the Malt Island.” Still smiling, I opened the small box in my hands. I removed a plain ring and placed it in Everly’s palm. “This ring is a bit tarnished, not worthy of me anymore. Consider it your gift.” As I announced this loudly, I caught sight of Matthew in my peripheral vision, restrained by my bodyguards. His eyes were bloodshot, fixed intensely on that single ring. It was our wedding ring. “Nicole, you fucking bitch!” he screamed. In a surge of rage, he somehow broke free from the two security guards and aimed a vicious kick at me. Chaos erupted instantly. Before I could process what was happening, Matthew grabbed my wrist in an iron grip and threw me into the car. The door slammed shut with a deafening bang. In the dim light, he wrapped his hand around my throat in a death grip. His words came out in a murderous hiss, “Nicole, have you lost your damn mind? Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Blood vessels burst in his eyes as he stared at me with pure hatred. Trembling with fury, his hands tightened around my neck as if he wanted nothing more than to end my life right there. “You worthless whore, you actually… you actually dared to leak this! “And for what? Everly? That second-rate mistress? You’d destroy me for someone like that? “After I was going to make you the president’s wife of the Wright Group for life! It is how you repay me!” I was starting to black out. Driven by survival instinct, I frantically clawed at his hands when suddenly a phone rang like a death knell. The moment the phone was answered, I was finally released and began coughing violently. Through the phone came a panicked voice, shouting frantically, “Mr. Wright, the incident from the party has leaked!” Hearing this, Matthew immediately forgot about me. He rushed out the door. I took my time, waiting until he left before checking my phone. Sure enough, the topic was trending. [Wright Group’s internal party! CEO’s wife creates malicious rumors about female employees out of jealousy. Sources say the victim now suffers from depression. Will there be an official statement? @WrightGroupOfficial] The video had been edited, with my voice and lip movements replaced using AI. Combined with provocative screenshots and commentary, it had completely inflamed public opinion. [I heard the company maliciously fired this poor girl! That old witch is disgusting!] [Typical trophy wife behavior! She thinks every woman wants to steal her precious husband!] [Can someone dig up her social media accounts? We need to cyberbully her off the internet!] The comment section was flooded with vicious insults and curses. While scrolling, Matthew called again, his voice seething with anger. “You worthless piece of trash, I’m warning you! “Stay in the car and don’t move. If this mess isn’t cleaned up today, you can expect divorce papers, you bitch.” I let out a soft laugh, my voice oddly cheerful. “An amicable divorce? Oh, Matthew… you’re really living in a fantasy world.” The moment those words left my lips, I posted it. A pre-written post appeared on my profile. The post was simple, featuring just three pieces of evidence. A photo of our marriage certificate and a complete video from the birthday party… And finally, a court summons. [See you in court, Matthew.]

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Adam West and Patrick West’s assistant, Audrey Crawford, suffered from aplastic anemia. To ensure that she had a blood supply available in the future, the two brothers had me, who had the same blood type as Audrey, donate blood to her for a week. After a week, Audrey brought a glass of orange juice to me. I slapped it out of her hand and insisted on leaving West Mansion. Adam and Patrick did not stop me. “Is it really that serious? Just drinking a glass of orange juice,” they asked. ***** I did not look back as I walked out of West Mansion. After a week of continuous blood donations, my steps became unstable the moment I left the house. Behind me, Patrick remarked, “You’re such a good actress. How much blood did you donate?” I understood at that moment that I was utterly weak. I stood still, holding onto a tree nearby. Adam said, “Considering you donated blood for Audrey, you can still turn back. If you do, we won’t hold it against you for knocking over Audrey’s orange juice.” But he seemed to have forgotten that I was allergic to orange juice. When my parents went to Briden to start a business, they were worried about me being unable to take care of my health. Thus, they sent me to live with Gary West, my father’s old friend. Once, I had some orange juice and got allergic all over. Adam held me and rushed me to the hospital immediately. Patrick had banned any oranges from the house ever since then. When I was hospitalized, others joked that I had two young boyfriends. But Patrick explained seriously, “Charlotte is a princess. A princess should have knights and princes by her side.” Adam nodded in agreement. As time went on, I became more reluctant to leave Seabay, unwilling to go to a place without Patrick and Adam. But now, seeing the two of them gently comforting Audrey, I bit down the discomfort and took a taxi. In the car, I touched the needle marks and bruises on my arm from the blood donation. I checked the calendar on my phone and then called my mother. “Mom, I want to go to Briden. Does our marriage contract with the Wilson family still stand?” It was time to let go of everything in Seabay. The childhood promises with my playmates could no longer be taken seriously.

After leaving West Mansion, I had nowhere else to go, so I returned to my old house. But Adam, Patrick, and Audrey still came to visit. Audrey wanted to thank me. I sneered inwardly. The maid at West Mansion had already informed her that I was allergic to orange juice, but she still handed me a glass of it. Now she wanted to thank me? When Audrey saw me, she shrank back like a frightened rabbit. Patrick frowned and scolded, “Charlotte, that’s enough. Stop scaring Audrey with that long face.” If this were the past, he would have pulled out my favorite dessert like magic, grinning and saying, “Lotte is magnanimous. Don’t mind this, okay?” But now, it seemed like he hadn’t even noticed my pale face from giving so much blood. “Audrey is here to apologize, Charlotte. Don’t hold a grudge against her. Don’t be so ungrateful and rude,” Patrick said. I coldly looked at Patrick and said, “Please leave my house.” Patrick’s expression instantly changed. He didn’t expect me, the usually obedient and understanding Charlotte, to act so cold. “It’s all my fault, Lotte. If you’re upset, take it out on me. Don’t take it out on Patrick,” Audrey said, her eyes misty with tears. It seemed like she had suffered some great injustice. But who was the one truly wronged? When I had a fever, Adam made me cook for Audrey. On a trip to the mountains, Adam and Patrick left me alone on a lonely mountain road to pick Audrey up from work. When Audrey fainted at work, Adam and Patrick forced me to donate blood for three days, just to ensure Audrey would have blood available in the future in case she fainted again. I had paid back my debt to the West family with seven days of scorching hot blood. From now on, there would be no more debt. With that thought, I dragged my weakened body to open the drawer beside my bed. Inside was the bracelet Adam had bought for me after winning his first case. He had said I was his lucky star. There were also the many heartfelt drawings that Patrick had made of my face. I threw all these things, which I had once cherished, into a bag at my feet, one by one. Each of them, just like Adam and Patrick, would disappear from my world. Patrick widened his eyes in disbelief and said, “Charlotte, have you gone mad? These are my drawings for you!” Adam pushed up his glasses and disapprovingly said, “Charlotte, can you stop acting like a child?” Patrick muttered in complaint, “Unbelievable! She threw my drawings out like trash.” I pushed Audrey, who was standing in the doorway, and threw everything outside. They were about to come forward to pick it all up when Audrey’s soft voice interrupted. “My ankle, I think I sprained it.” Adam and Patrick’s eyes immediately fixed on the delicate girl, whose voice was filled with pain. I and all the memories we once shared were now selectively ignored by them. I curled my lips into a self-deprecating smile. It shouldn’t have been me who was trapped in the past. They anxiously asked Audrey about her injury, and Audrey, feigning pain, said softly, “Don’t blame Lotte. She didn’t mean to push me.” Upon hearing this, Patrick clenched his fists. He looked at me, displeased, and shouted, “Charlotte, apologize to Audrey immediately.” I stood frozen in place, my nails digging into my palm, blood seeping from the punctures. Seeing that I wouldn’t apologize, Adam kicked the bag I had just packed down the stairs. “Charlotte, I’ll sue you for intentional injury!” So this was the sharp-tongued, ruthless lawyer I once knew. I never imagined that one day, this cold, heartless side of him would be directed at me. I laughed and replied, “Sure, go ahead and sue me.”

I turned and walked away, unwilling to get entangled with them any longer. “Charlotte, where are you going?” Patrick’s voice, tinged with anxiety, came from behind me. I didn’t look back and replied, “Mrs. West said she missed me yesterday.” When I arrived at West Mansion, Scarlett West was startled by my pale face. “Patrick is always careless, but why didn’t Adam even send you here?” Scarlett had always kept me close since I was a child. She used to tease Patrick and Adam, saying, “Let’s see who can marry Charlotte.” But now, I no longer had that shy anticipation of the past. I calmly replied, “They’re busy. It’s normal for them to have their own things to deal with.” Scarlett furrowed her brows and gently touched my pale face. “Did those two scoundrels bully you? I’ll teach them a lesson for you!” I shook my head and smiled, “Mrs. West, there’s no need for that. I’ll be settling in with my parents soon.” Scarlett hugged my shoulders, sighing helplessly. “Charlotte, I don’t know what happened, but for you to have made the decision to leave, it must be those two bastards’ fault.” I leaned my head against her shoulder, drawing warmth from it. “Don’t tell Patrick or Adam. The jokes we made when we were young should never have been taken seriously.” Scarlett took a deep breath, looking at me with a helpless expression. “I’ll keep it a secret. But don’t forget to tell me before you leave.” At that moment, Patrick and Audrey entered, hand in hand, with confused expressions. “Who’s leaving? Where are they going?” I glanced briefly at their intertwined hands and lowered my head in silence. Scarlett looked at them with an unamused expression. “Charlotte’s going on a trip in a few days. By the way, don’t just bring anyone home.” She patted my hand. “Charlotte, I’ll go get some fruit. Just sit here; this is your home.” Patrick, who had been a bit anxious, visibly relaxed. “You said before that you wanted to see the aurora. When did you make the plans?” Adam loosened his tie and added, “Why didn’t you call Patrick and me along? We can bring Audrey too.” Noticing I wasn’t saying anything, Audrey whined and shook Patrick’s arm, her expression playful. “Lotte doesn’t like me, so don’t make things difficult for her.” She attempted to link arms with me, but I quickly pulled away, disgusted by her little trick. Audrey stumbled forward due to the force of her movement. There was a thick rug on the floor, yet she pretended to be delicate, clutching her leg and curling up on the ground. “Charlotte, you dare bully Audrey in our place?” I was violently shoved by Patrick, and my lower back hit the corner of the table. A sharp pain shot through my body. Cold sweat dripped from my forehead as I trembled uncontrollably. But Adam looked at me with disgust. “Stop pretending. You injured Audrey and now act like the victim.” I rubbed my ear, unable to believe what I was hearing. The two guys, who were always so perceptive, couldn’t even see through Audrey’s clumsy act. Their eyes and hearts had long since sided with Audrey. When they loved someone, they’d instinctively protect that person. Patrick hurriedly surrounded Audrey, anxiously asking if she was in pain. Adam picked Audrey up and rushed toward the door. As they passed me, Adam, without caring that I was unsteady on my feet from the collision, coldly said, “Don’t think about hurting Audrey again.” I met Audrey’s mocking gaze and laughed through clenched teeth. The one who was truly hurt was me. But thankfully, we would never have a next time. Leaving as soon as possible was the best decision I had ever made.   After getting my back treated at the hospital, I returned to West Mansion to pick up my forgotten passport. But the lock, which had been set with my birthday as the password, prompted an error. As Adam carried Audrey out of the car with a pained expression, I was curled up in a corner. Patrick sneered with a gloomy expression, “You came back again to play the pitiful act? Audrey’s kind-hearted and forgave you. If you want to stay here, stop thinking of bullying her.” Once my protectors, Patrick and Adam now warned me for someone else. Seeing me look at them coldly, Patrick’s eyes flickered with a hint of unease. “Charlotte, why are you looking at me like that? If you want to come back, just say it.” Audrey playfully patted Patrick’s arm and said, “Patrick, don’t be so harsh. You’re scaring Lotte. “By the way, Lotte, I twisted my ankle. Patrick asked me to stay here for a while. You won’t mind, will you? I’ve ordered a cake from the dessert shop you own. Let’s have a nice gathering.” Adam nodded and raised his chin toward me. “Charlotte, go get the cake. Audrey is trying to make amends with you. Don’t be so petty.” The cake Audrey had specially ordered was indeed enormous. The fondant little girl on top was surrounded by two boys. Ironically, the little girl’s curly hair looked just like Audrey’s. I stared at the cake for a while, a faint smile on my lips, but my heart felt completely still. I no longer felt any sadness from Patrick and Adam’s favoritism toward Audrey. Instead, I found myself wishing for the three of them to always remain happy together and never disturb my life again. I held the large cake and walked toward the cold storage door, but Audrey appeared with a smile on her face. “Lotte, you used to get along so well with Patrick and Adam, didn’t you?” Noticing the smugness in the corners of her eyes, I tried to leave. But Audrey raised an eyebrow and shoved me back into the cold storage. She slammed the door shut, and I could only watch the cake shatter into pieces on the floor. Patrick and Adam rushed in, and upon seeing the cream-covered floor and Audrey still crying, their faces grew even angrier. The temperature in the cold storage felt like ice arrows and could pierce through me. I trembled uncontrollably, trying to gather warmth by hugging my body. I once fell into a lake while ice skating, and since then, I couldn’t stand the cold. During that illness, Patrick had stayed by my bedside and cared for me day and night. Adam had found a famous doctor to treat me. They knew I couldn’t get cold, but now, not a single one of them cared that I was still locked in the cold storage. Adam’s voice, filled with suppressed anger, came through. “Charlotte, this is too much! This cake was designed by Audrey with great care.” Patrick, busy comforting the crying Audrey, didn’t have time to care about me. I was so frozen that I could barely speak. My body shook uncontrollably. I took a deep breath, and my teeth bit into my lip until it bled, just to make myself speak, “It’s really cold in here. Let me out.” Adam’s indifferent voice came from outside. “Apologize to Audrey first, or you can stay in there!” My lips had turned purple from the cold, and my throat felt like it was pierced by icy blades. Every breath I took was painfully sharp. How ridiculous. I had to beg to be freed from this place. And the ones who put me here were the two people I once thought I would spend the rest of my life with. The one I should apologize to was myself. I should have left when Audrey first appeared. I shouldn’t have continued hoping that Patrick and Adam would ever stand by me when they kept favoring her. I looked at the decorative piece in the corner, covered with satin. I suddenly pulled it away. Inside was an ice sculpture of Audrey, painstakingly carved by Patrick himself. I sneered, and despite my trembling hands, I threw the sculpture to the ground. The crisp sound of shattering echoed through the room. The door was hurriedly opened, and Patrick rushed in with a frantic expression. “Charlotte, what the hell are you doing? Do you have any idea what this is? I made this for Audrey!” I forced myself to suppress the trembling and ran upstairs, hastily throwing my documents into my bag. In a daze, I saw myself in the kitchen, experimenting with desserts. Patrick playfully smeared cream on my face, and Adam helplessly wiped it off. “I’ll deal with Patrick for you later. He made our princess look like a messy kitten.” But when I rubbed my eyes, all I saw were them glaring at me with anger. “You’re trying to scare us into thinking you’ll leave, huh? If you have the guts, just never come back!” Indeed, I would never return. I looked at the flight reminder for the next day on my phone. With no tears falling, my heart was already in utter turmoil.

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My name was Emma Cruise. Ever since Hannah Gellar passed away, my husband, Barry Gellar, had been a shadow of his former self. Day and night, he wore headphones, drowning himself in the seven recordings Hannah left behind. He even needed those recordings to fall asleep. Worried about how this obsession might consume him, I decided to hide the recordings. But that only escalated the situation. In his desperation, my husband resorted to extreme measures, coercing me with every mean and ugly thing he could think of. “Those recordings are the only thing Hannah left me! Who do you think you are, taking them away, you worthless bitch?” It hurt, but the pain didn’t end there. Our son Felix Gellar, who I raised with such care, looked at me with icy disdain. “It’s clear you’re twisted in your ways. You don’t deserve to be my mother!” They were both mistaken, clueless about the truth. The woman they believed was dead was actually living abroad, creating a new life and a new family. In this new life, I vowed to deliver the recording to them myself—straight into the ears of both father and son. ***** The gaunt figure before me gripped my throat tightly, his bloodshot eyes boring into mine with a ferocity that sent chills down my spine. “Emma! Give me back my Hannah! “Who do you think you are? What makes you think you have any right to touch the things Hannah left for me? Have I been too good to you all these years, letting it go to your head?” The pressure around my neck made it hard to breathe, and I struggled helplessly as he let out a cruel laugh before throwing me to the ground. “I’m warning you for the last time—hand over those recordings!” Coughing violently, I clutched my throat, gasping for air until the cool rush filled my lungs and brought me back to life. The servants stood around us, their expressions blank, heads bowed, and mouths shut tight. Not one of them dared to step forward to help me. I forced myself to look up, and for a moment, I was taken aback by the familiar face of the man I once loved. I couldn’t believe it—I had been reborn. In the world of the elite, everyone knew the Gellar family patriarch, Barry, had a stepsister. They grew up together, inseparable, their bond unbreakable. But the weight of family expectations crushed Barry when he couldn’t reciprocate her feelings, blaming it on me for preventing their love from being acknowledged. The proud princess of the Gellar family couldn’t handle the rejection and soon fell ill, passing away too soon. All that remained were those seven recordings, supposedly meant to help Barry navigate his grief and find hope again. Each year, like clockwork, someone would play them for him, never missing a beat. Even after I married Barry, I could sense his lingering attachment to that “deceased” sister. He would listen to her voice, trapped in the past, unable to let go. I knew I could never compete with a ghost, and guilt over Hannah’s death weighed heavily on me. So, for years, I kept my head down, carefully tending to both father and son, even as they hurled insults and abuse my way. I never once considered leaving. But those recordings, delivered year after year, dragged Barry deeper into despair, tormenting him until he was a shell of his former self, sleepless and desperate for relief. In my past life, I couldn’t bear to watch him suffer anymore. I bought the remaining recordings, cutting off the source of his pain. What I didn’t expect was for Barry to go to such lengths to find me, resorting to all kinds of torture to force me to hand over the last of the tapes. I was on the brink of collapse, begging for mercy, but he turned a deaf ear and only intensified his cruelty. When I finally relented and handed over the recordings, he tossed me into the slums, watching coldly as a horde of homeless people tormented me to death. “This is what we owe to Hannah. We all deserve this, don’t we?” His icy gaze sent a shiver down my spine, but I reminded myself—I was back, and this time, things would be different. In my previous life, I only discovered after my death that Hannah was never truly gone. She had faked her death and moved abroad, starting a new life, getting married, and having children. It was only after my demise that she returned, pretending to have amnesia, ready to reclaim my child and rekindle her romance with Barry, all while inheriting a fortune. Now that I had a second chance, I was determined to deliver those recordings personally to their ears. Just thinking about that seventh recording made me smile, and I couldn’t help but feel a rush of anticipation.

Seeing me crumpled on the floor, Felix approached with a frown, his gaze dripping with scorn. “Mom, if I hadn’t followed you these past few days, I wouldn’t have discovered just how malicious you really are! “Ms. Hannah Gellar is dead. Why can’t you just let her last recording rest? Do you have to be so petty, letting me down like this?” His words hit me squarely. In the past, I might have argued back, but this time around, I had learned to let go. They were just two ungrateful wretches; no matter how well I treated them, they would always fawn over Hannah. With red-rimmed eyes, Felix went to his father, tugging at Barry’s sleeve with a pitiful expression. “Dad, I miss Ms. Hannah Gellar.” Barry closed his eyes for a moment, his trembling hand reaching to pat Felix’s head. “Emma, I’m giving you one last chance…” Before he could finish, I let out a scoff. “Fine, I’ll give it back to you.” Clearly taken aback by my unexpected compliance, Barry stared at me, his expression a mix of confusion and suspicion. “Emma, don’t pull any tricks. Otherwise, you’ll regret it.” I rolled my eyes, completely unfazed by his threat. After all, in my previous life, he had tortured me without a second thought. To him, I was merely an inconvenience, and this time, I wanted nothing more than to distance myself from him. The bond we once shared had vanished the moment he had someone humiliate me. All that was left was a simmering hatred. To ease his worries, I pulled out the recording pen and pressed play. In an instant, a soft, tearful voice filled the air. “Barry, it’s been six years since I left you. Have you been eating well every day? I… I miss you so much… “Barry, even though I’m gone, you have to… live well. Ahem… I will always love you and Felix…” Her voice was weak, punctuated by heart-wrenching coughs, making her sound utterly pitiful. Each word was a dagger aimed at Barry, who stood frozen, tears streaming down his face. Anyone would think Hannah was still his wife. Felix wiped his eyes and, almost unconsciously, called out, “Sister…” Watching the two of them, so alike in their infatuation, I couldn’t help but smirk. Once the recording ended, it was as if Barry had been drained of all energy. He staggered slightly. It made sense; this was the sixth recording, and only one remained. I had long wondered why Hannah insisted on leaving behind those seven recordings. If she truly wanted Barry to live well, she wouldn’t torment him with them every year. Back then, I naively believed Hannah wanted to help him out of his sorrow. But now, it was clear—she wanted to be the unforgettable woman in Barry’s heart. No one knew Hannah better than I did. After failing to win against me, she resorted to these underhanded tactics to reclaim her place, regardless of how many people would get hurt along the way. As long as she achieved her goal, it would all be worth it to her. I smiled sweetly as I pulled out another recording pen. “Barry, would you like to hear the last recording she left for you?”

Barry couldn’t possibly resist the urge to listen, but I wasn’t about to make it easy for him. “What’s your price? Whatever you want, I’ll agree to it! Emma, please, that recording means everything to me. Just give it to me!” I gave the recording pen a little shake, letting it tap against the cup with a sharp, clear sound. If I loosened my grip even slightly, it would plunge into the water. Barry hesitated, rooted to the spot, his eyes fixed on the pen in my hand. He had always been cold and dignified, but now, a mere recording had forced him to lower his guard. I couldn’t help but find it amusing, glancing at Felix, who was puffed up with indignation. After carrying him for nine months and raising him for thirteen years, it seemed my efforts paled in comparison to the carefree time Hannah had spent with him. If that was the case, I had no intention of bending over backward to please them any longer. I said, “Alright, but I want a divorce.” Barry’s expression shifted from shock to disbelief as he looked at me. “Emma, are you out of your mind? Do you even hear what you’re saying? Don’t use this to threaten me; it’s ridiculous!” Felix shook his head, adding, “Mom, you’re not a child anymore. You should know better.” I ignored their protests. I had been the responsible one for far too long, and it hadn’t saved me from their cruelty in my past life. As I tilted my wrist down, letting the recording pen near the water’s surface, Barry finally realized I was serious. After a brief moment of hesitation, he relented. “I’ll agree to it!” His words were a relief. “Great. So, we’ll split the assets evenly after the divorce. You won’t mind that, right?” Since Hannah’s death, Barry had been in a downward spiral, losing interest in the business. If it weren’t for me, the Gellar family wouldn’t have achieved what it had over the years. It was only fair that I took my share. To my surprise, Barry quickly agreed. To ensure he wouldn’t backtrack, I had a divorce agreement drafted and signed on the spot. Felix chimed in coldly from the side, “Mom, even if you divorce Dad, I’m sticking with him. Following a woman like you, who craves vanity, is just disgusting!” My hand paused mid-signature as I looked at him, momentarily confused. Felix thought he had figured me out, but before he could gloat, I feigned a sudden realization. I shrugged. “Oh, I almost forgot about you. “But honestly, I never planned on keeping you.” Felix, still just a kid, couldn’t hide his feelings, and his eyes turned red with anger. With the divorce agreement in hand, I tossed the recording pen to Barry. He caught it gingerly, as if it were a rare treasure. Watching him and Felix huddle together, I saw Barry’s trembling hands as he opened the pen, and Hannah’s sweet voice emerged. “Barry, if you still think of me seven years from now, come visit this place.” The recording continued, revealing the address of a luxurious estate abroad.

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At three months pregnant, I was left behind on a sinking cruise ship by my husband, Damon Hunt. The reason? Elena Hart screamed that she was afraid of water. I begged him to save me and the baby, but he shoved me off the lifeboat, coldly saying, “You can swim, right? You’ll be fine!” After being rescued from the ocean, I lost the baby and had to undergo surgery, but I couldn’t get Damon to sign the consent forms. As I scrolled through social media, I saw Elena’s post on Instagram. Elena: [True love shows in times of crisis, Damon.] The photo showed them wrapped in the same blanket, drenched and barely clothed. Once I recovered and was discharged from the hospital, I drove straight to the plain. Damon, who hadn’t contacted me in over a month, suddenly bombarded me with calls. “Lillian, the wedding dress is ready. Are we still getting married?” After leaving the car convoy, I turned on my spare phone and saw over a hundred missed calls from Damon. I picked up the phone, and Damon, barely holding back his frustration, demanded, “Lillian, where have you been? I couldn’t reach you by phone, and you didn’t reply to any of my messages. My parents have been reminding you to try on the wedding dress, but you’ve gone completely off the radar. Are you still planning on getting married or not?” I glanced at the divorce papers I had already signed. “I guess we’re not getting married.” “What’s wrong with you? You were the one who said we should just register and not have a ceremony. The invitations have already been sent. Now you’re backing out?” There was noise in the background. A sweet female voice was soothing him. His tone softened. “Wait for me. I’ll pick you up, and we’ll go try on the wedding dress.” The wedding dress was custom-made, and it was the most expensive element of our minimalist wedding. I had imagined countless times walking down the aisle, wearing the most beautiful dress, with all of our friends and family watching, marrying him. But now, I didn’t care anymore. Damon had upgraded his car—a bold royal blue that screamed attention. Sitting in the passenger seat, the sun was blinding. I pulled down the visor, only to see lipstick marks on the mirror—Damon loves Elena. Damon suddenly explained, “I swapped out the car. The old one was too cheap. It didn’t match my status.” That was the birthday gift I had scrimped and saved for. From the car’s color to the interior, everything had been carefully chosen by me. Just like me, the car was discarded. We stopped outside the bridal shop, but I didn’t get out. “Why here? I thought I booked at another one.” Damon dragged me out of the car. “A friend recommended this one. She said it’s better.” I always loved silk wedding dresses, but this store was filled with dramatic, puffy gowns. Despite already choosing my wedding dress, I was being forced to change my plans because of Elena’s preferences. A shop assistant guided me toward the fitting room. The dress fit, but it didn’t suit me at all. It felt as mismatched as Damon and I had become. Damon looked at me, but the only time I saw real admiration in his eyes was for the dress. I knew he wasn’t thinking of me. He was imagining Elena wearing it. “This one,” he declared without hesitation. I silently allowed him to lead me out of the store. Once in the car, he asked, “Why the long face? You’ve been to the plain, had some fun, and you’re still upset? Just because of a small thing, are you going to hold a grudge?” During last month’s cruise, when the ship was sinking after hitting a reef, Damon had pushed me off the lifeboat. It was all because Elena was afraid of water, and I had learned to swim years ago. I lost the baby, and he found his true love. He had almost completely forgotten about that day. When I stayed silent, he began lecturing me. “Why did you have to go to the plain? You’re pregnant, and you’re not in your twenties anymore. Shouldn’t you be more responsible? Now that you’re a mom, you need to be more stable. The baby is your responsibility now.” I shot back. “And this baby isn’t yours? Did you think about that responsibility when you shoved me off the lifeboat?” Damon turned his face away. “Stop trying to turn this into something it’s not. Go get checked out. Make sure everything’s alright with the baby.” Looking up, I saw that we had arrived at the OB/GYN. The doctor who performed the procedure looked worried. “Didn’t you just have an abortion last month? Is something wrong?”

Damon, who had been lazily scrolling through his phone, froze. “An abortion? Lillian, you had an abortion without telling me? When did this happen?” The waiting room was crowded, and all eyes were on us. I remembered two months ago, when we first found out I was pregnant. Damon had spun me around in joy, right there in the same hospital. We hadn’t been financially well-off when we first got married. We’d registered but hadn’t had a wedding ceremony. It wasn’t until I got pregnant and our financial situation improved that I suggested having a wedding. Damon couldn’t wait to make it happen. But now, his indifference tore at me. In those two months, he’d found true love, while I was drowning in heartbreak. Someone came over to mediate, and Damon frowned, pulling me into a stairwell. “June 3rd.” I looked up, noticing the anger on his face had frozen. That was the day the cruise ship had sunk, and I had been left stranded in the freezing ocean for five hours before being rescued. Meanwhile, Damon was already in Elena’s arms, confessing his love. Damon’s voice softened. “Have you had your check-up after the surgery? You went through a lot, and you didn’t even tell me. Running off to the plain without resting properly.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Let’s go get you checked out. We need to make sure there are no aftereffects. And don’t worry. We’ll have more babies in the future.” His phone rang, and a love song played from the speakers. Damon had always used basic ringtones—except when it came to Elena. For her, he’d make everything feel special. On the other end of the line, Elena was playfully whining. “Are you free today? I’ve been thinking about it. That cruise accident was so scary. I need to learn to swim for my own safety. Will you be my personal instructor? I’ve always been afraid of water, but I trust you.” Damon smiled, oblivious to my presence, clearly enjoying the attention. He hung up, glanced at me, and his expression hardened. “If it weren’t for your miscarriage, we wouldn’t have all this trouble. Let’s skip the check-up today. I’ve got something urgent. You can come again with my mom instead.” He rushed off without another word. I walked out, facing the pitying stares of everyone in the lobby. I hailed a cab. It was July, and the heat felt suffocating, thick and oppressive. It was like drowning in the sea—my heart was heavy with pain, but I couldn’t bring myself to cry. Back home, Damon’s mother called, her voice stern. “Lillian, I heard about the miscarriage. It’s your fault. I’ll take you for a check-up in a couple of days. Hope it won’t affect your future fertility.” I didn’t respond. Her voice softened slightly. “Lillian, you’ve been without parents your whole life. My husband and I have treated you like our own daughter. Don’t take this the wrong way, but losing one child isn’t the end of the world. Life goes on. I’m just worried about your health. If you can have kids, the family will have a future.” I had once believed her when she acted like a mother to me, thinking that marrying Damon would give me the family I’d always wanted. Now, I saw through her—it was all about controlling my womb. “Tomorrow, I’ve invited someone to come over and hold a memorial for the child. Damon should come too. A lost child is gone, but your relationship with Damon must continue.” I turned off the backup phone, not bothering to listen anymore. I stopped feeling the pain.

It had been a whole day without food, and as I lay in bed, my stomach twisted with sharp, cramping pain. I thought about getting up to grab something to eat, but the thought of food only made me feel nauseous. This house, with every corner filled with his presence, made me sick to my stomach. I could almost feel him there in the silence, his shadow looming everywhere. As a wave of dizziness and cold sweat washed over me, I opened my phone, hoping to order some medicine. Instead, I saw that Elena had posted on Instagram again, even going so far as to send me a screenshot. She made sure I saw it before quickly deleting the message. She made sure I saw it before quickly deleting the message. Elena: [Damon is my swimming instructor today!] The picture showed a crystal-clear pool, with Elena in a bikini, her selfie framed perfectly—except for one detail. She was sitting on Damon’s lap. Damon didn’t show his face, but the tattoo on his abs was unmistakable. It was my initials—once a symbol of our love. A sudden wave of nausea hit me as the pain in my stomach intensified, and I threw my phone onto the bed. I didn’t know how much time passed, but eventually, I managed to calm down enough to get up. As I walked toward the door, I heard Damon returning home. He was upstairs, chatting with Elena on a video call. His voice was soft and tender, full of affection. “Next month, I’m going to Brighton for work. Will you come with me?” Elena laughed, “Of course, I’ll come. We need to leave a trace of our love everywhere.” I leaned back against the door, curling up into myself. No one wanted to give up on someone they truly loved. But when silence and heartache piled up, sometimes it was time to let go, no matter how painful it was. Once upon a time, Damon and I had supported each other through thick and thin—two interns just starting at the company, and now, department directors. We’d seen the harbor view at 4 AM, worked overtime for half a year, delayed, and finally canceled our wedding—all for the sake of a big project. During the toughest, most exhausting days, we would prepare lunch for each other, and when we finally found the time to eat, the food would already be spoiled. We comforted each other, promising that once we succeeded, we’d go on that trip to the plain. But in the end, I was the only one who went. I searched through the ashes of love, but there was no spark left. That night, I was woken up by a strange sound. Damon’s mother had really gone through with the ritual. She had even set up a small altar for the unborn child. Damon had been ordered to keep watch, his head lowered as he tapped away at his phone. When I walked closer, I saw he was chatting with Elena. Damon: [My mom is overreacting!] Damon: [It’s just a dead baby—didn’t even have a name, just a tiny embryo. Why should I keep watch for something like that?] Damon: [It’s not like Lillian died.] Damon: [Remember that hot spring I promised you yesterday? We’ll have to go next time.] I turned and went back to my room, opening the company’s system to submit my resignation. I had never liked Harborview, but it had been Damon’s home, and I had stayed here for many years. But no matter how long I’d been here, I always felt like an outsider. Now, I was determined to start fresh. It was time to leave.   The next day, I went to the office to officially resign. As luck would have it, I ran into Elena delivering lunch to Damon. “Fired?” she asked, her eyes gleaming with challenge. “Serves you right! I told Damon ages ago that IT isn’t a field for women. You have been in the company for so many years, now you’re leaving!” She patted me on the shoulder. “Lillian, love is the same way. If it’s not right, no matter how many years you’re married, it’ll eventually end. Besides, who really knows you were even married?” I pushed her hand away and walked straight for the door. She thought I didn’t know about her and Damon sneaking around on the company rooftop over the past couple of months. After a 2 PM lunch break, whenever she brought Damon lunch, they’d stay up there together until almost 4 PM before returning to work. Damon was the vice director of the marketing department, often traveling for business, which meant he wasn’t in the office much. He was also rarely at home, most likely spending his time with Elena. But from now on, he wouldn’t be that leisurely. When I handed in my resignation, Margaret Whitmore, my boss, shared her thoughts in a heartfelt conversation. The message was clear. She was getting Damon out of the company. I had been a key player in the R&D department. Our relationship had made it difficult to put Damon in a tight spot, but now that I was leaving, his position could be filled by someone else. Margaret said, “Ms. Westwood’s son just graduated and returned from abroad. She’s considering letting him take over as director.” I nodded. “Sounds good to me.” As I walked out the door, it was nearly noon when Damon finally rushed into clock in. When he saw me holding a box, his confusion turned to realization. “Well, that’s good. We’ll have the wedding this Sunday. There’s no need for you to work anymore. It’ll be easier on you,” he said. Elena, standing behind him, spoke with a familiar tone. “What, do you look down on career women?” She was a makeup artist, always traveling, always on the go. I knew, for a fact, that on at least four separate occasions, Damon had claimed to be on a business trip when in reality, he was traveling with her. Throughout our entire marriage, the only trip we ever took together was the cruise. We had always talked about going to the grasslands, but it kept getting pushed back. But that time, when I suggested the cruise, Damon didn’t refuse. It was only because Elena was with us. I glanced up, and Damon’s smile was as bright as it had been during the early days of our love. “Elena, you know it’s not the same between you two.” His tenderness had long since belonged to someone else. When my colleagues threw me a farewell party, I declined. I quietly slipped away, and it only confirmed Damon’s belief. He thought I couldn’t hack it in the industry anymore. After losing the baby, I was disheartened and ready to give up my career to become a housewife. He brushed past me without a second glance and said, “After the wedding, I’ll give you everything you want. Enough with the tantrums.” I smiled, “Fine, no more tantrums from me.” And I meant it. I didn’t need him anymore. “Damon, let’s get a divorce.”

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My adopted son, Justin Hackett, wanted his biological mother, Sofia Quinn, to drink the wine that his bride offered at the wedding. He persuaded my husband, Zach Hackett, to give me sleeping pills the day before the wedding. The next day, Zach brought Sofia to Justin’s wedding. The three of them hugged each other tightly and shed happy tears. But I could never wake up again because of the overdose of sleeping pills. When I opened my eyes again, Zach brought me another glass of milk. ***** Zach reminded me when he saw that I was reluctant to take the milk. “Baby, drink the milk. Otherwise, you will have insomnia again tonight.” Justin also echoed beside me. “Mom, you have to sleep well tonight so that you can have enough energy to attend my wedding tomorrow.” I took the milk and took a sip with a smile, looking at him. “Okay, I will drink it. Tomorrow is your wedding. I have to be well rested.” An imperceptible smile of success flashed across the corners of Zach and Justin’s lips. I used the excuse that the milk wasn’t sweet enough and went to the kitchen to add sugar. As soon as the door was closed, I poured the milk into the sink with a cold face and turned on the tap to destroy the evidence. In my previous life, it was this glass of milk that made me fall asleep and never wake up again. After death, I regretted not being able to attend Justin’s wedding. My soul floated to the wedding scene. I watched Zach holding Sofia. The three of them were so happy that they burst into tears. After the wedding, Sofia said to Zach, “Being in love with you is the luckiest thing in my life. The only regret is that we can’t be a real family. I’m really jealous of Yvette. She is your legal wife and Justin’s adoptive mother. If you didn’t think of me, I wouldn’t be able to attend Justin’s wedding as his mother.” She became more and more aggrieved and even cried. Zach hurried to coax her. “Yvette is not worthy of being compared with you. She is just my wife in name only. I only have you in my heart. For you and Justin, I secretly had a vasectomy before marrying Yvette. She is not worthy of having my child. I deceived Yvette. She really thought she could not have children. So she transferred all her guilt towards me to Justin. She used the connections of the Stewart family to help us raise an excellent son. I have been acting with her for more than 20 years, and I am tired of her. Now, I am just waiting for her father to die, and then I can completely control the Stewart Group. Then I will divorce Yvette and marry you.” Sofia burst into laughter. Obscene sounds soon rang out in the room. My husband, who treated me with respect, had another woman in his heart. He was just acting with me. My adopted son, I raised with all my heart, was their biological son. They loved each other, and I was the only outsider. More importantly… I touched my lower abdomen with trembling hands. So, the diagnosis was also fake. It wasn’t my fallopian tube that was deformed, but Zach had a vasectomy. At that time, Zach and I had been married for four years, but I hadn’t gotten pregnant yet. I was so anxious that I dragged Zach to the hospital for a checkup. The results showed that my fallopian tubes were deformed on both sides, while Zach was qualified in all aspects. It was my fault that I couldn’t conceive. I was devastated and desperate. I didn’t want to delay Zach, so I proposed a divorce. But he kept saying that he loved me. He said he couldn’t live without me. To keep me, he suggested adopting his distant nephew Justin, whose parents had both passed away. After adopting Justin, I took care of his food, clothing, housing, and transportation and slowly walked out of the shadow of infertility. At that time, I thought that sincerity would be exchanged for sincerity. I was good to Justin, and he would be good to me in the future. But I didn’t expect that he would enjoy my kindness to him while loving his biological parents. How ruthless and vicious Zach was! He pushed me into the abyss of pain and then pretended to be a hero, saving me. He lied to me and made me feel guilty and grateful to him, and then I served and paved the way for his family of three! I sacrificed everything I had while they took advantage of me! Why? Why! The anger and indignation swept over me. My vision went dark, and I was reborn back to today.

I came back to my senses, put the glass away, and walked out of the kitchen. I yawned after watching TV for a few minutes on the sofa. Seeing this, Zach and Justin looked at each other implicitly, with a smile of success. Zach put down the newspaper and said, “It’s getting late. Go to bed now so that you can get up early tomorrow.” I nodded and went back to my room. Yes, my room. Not the room Zach and I shared. After adopting Justin, Zach proposed to sleep in separate rooms with me. He said he was busy with work and would wake me up when he came into the room in the middle of the night. So it was better to sleep in separate rooms to give each other some personal space. At first, I thought Zach wanted to sleep in separate rooms with me because he had another woman outside. Later, I observed him for some time and found that he went between home and work every day. His life was very regular. I knew his colleagues very well, and they would not do anything to destroy other people’s families. So I was relieved. Sleeping in separate rooms was not a big deal as long as it didn’t interfere with our sex life. Now that I thought about it, how could Zach be worried about disturbing my sleep? He clearly wanted to stay away from me and keep his body for the woman he loved! It was ridiculous. We had done everything, but he suddenly remembered to keep his distance from me. What? A man’s chastity was never under his suit pants? I sneered and went to bed early. There was still a “tough battle” to fight the next day. On the next morning, after the door closed, I opened my eyes and got up to wash. To verify the efficacy of sleeping pills, Zach even came to wake me up. He left only after seeing that I was sleeping soundly. I thought, “Humph, you three don’t even think about having a good time today!” Time gradually approached noon. I had a full meal and rushed to the hotel on time. It was very lively along the way. A man watching the show asked me what I was doing. I just smiled and didn’t say anything, which aroused his curiosity. The line was getting longer and longer. When I walked to the door of the hotel, there were already more than a hundred people. The hotel lobby was bustling. The red carpet was laid, the ribbons were flying, and the place was full of guests. The emcee was livening up the atmosphere. He was asking the bride to toast Sofia. I walked onto the stage quickly, took the wine from the bride, and put it aside. “Hey, I haven’t even arrived yet. Who is this wine for?” Sofia’s raised hand froze in the air. She was stunned for a few seconds, then smoothed the hair by her ears and said with relief, “The emcee urged both parents to go on stage to go through the process. Zach said I was Justin’s aunt, so he asked me to take your place temporarily. It’s great that you’re here now, just in time to drink the wine toasted by the bride.” As she said that, she stood up to make room for me. Justin wanted to stop her, but Sofia shook her head gently to signal him not to speak. I ignored Sofia’s careful action, snatched the microphone from the emcee, and signaled him to go down. “Welcome all relatives and friends to attend the wedding of my adopted son Justin. But today is not only his wedding but also a good day for his biological parents to rebound. Please raise your hands to applaud this couple and send the most sincere blessings!” As soon as I finished speaking, two young men who had been waiting for a long time opened the banner, one on the left and one on the right, and presented it to everyone. Everyone’s eyesight was very good, and the hotel was well-lit. The banner was red with large black characters, which was very eye-catching. After seeing the content of the banner clearly, everyone present was shocked. In silence, a little girl of eight or nine years old slowly read it out. “Taking a concubine on behalf of my husband, I sincerely invite Ms. Sofia Quinn to be the first concubine of my husband Zach. Mom, what is a concubine?” The little girl asked innocently with her big eyes. Her mother smiled awkwardly and quickly covered her mouth to prevent her from saying anything shocking again. It was indeed a bit embarrassing, but the mother was curious and obviously didn’t want to miss such a dramatic show. Justin was furious, and his face turned red. He wanted to snatch the banner from the two young men and end this embarrassing farce. It was a pity that I spent two hundred dollars to hire these two young men from the martial arts gym. They were tall, strong, and powerful. A weak guy like Justin couldn’t do anything to them. He could only yell at me, “Mom, what are you fussing about? I just asked Aunt Sofia to take a glass of wine for you. Do you have to make such a fuss? Do you have to ruin my wedding?”

Justin asked me in a low voice with red eyes as if he had been greatly wronged. I sneered secretly. Who could be more wronged than me? I worked so hard to take care of their son for Sofia for twenty years, but in the end, Zach gave me sleeping pills and killed me. They plotted against me. Shouldn’t I be allowed to take revenge? I raised my hand and slapped Justin twice, making him stunned. “Who is your mom? You know who your mom is. I’m not your mom. This person, whom you keep calling Aunt Sofia, is your real mother. And your adoptive father Zach is your real father. You know their relationship very well. Otherwise, you would not have instigated your father to give me sleeping pills and then brought your mother to the wedding. Zach, Sofia, you two are shameless! All these years, you played cousins in front of me and were lovers behind my back. Isn’t that exciting?” My every word was transmitted to every corner of the hotel lobby through the microphone, like a drop of water falling into a hot oil pan, stirring up a heated discussion. “What a complicated relationship. His aunt is his real mother, and his adoptive father is his real father. Only his adoptive mother has been an outsider from the beginning.” “A husband who has cheated for many years. A scheming adopted son. A shameless mistress. A wife who has been deceived for many years. Such a miserable legal wife.” “Oh my God. I didn’t come to this wedding for nothing. When I go home, I will be the focus of the intelligence center!” ***** The guests in the audience whispered to each other. They stole a glance at the situation on the stage, and knowing smiles rose on their faces. Sofia was extremely panicked. She relied on Zach’s true love and never took me, his legal wife, seriously. No one knew that she had an affair with Zach in private. Now that she was exposed as a mistress, and so many people knew about it. Those eyes fell on her like needles, piercing her so much that she wanted to die. She finally learned what “people’s words are scary” meant. Sofia was extremely ashamed and angry. She hurriedly hid behind Zach to avoid those stares. The upper half of her face appeared behind Zach’s shoulder, with tears in her eyes, making people feel sorry for her. “Yvette, I didn’t mean to destroy your marriage with Zach. Back then, I wanted to break up with Zach and leave, but Zach brought Justin to the train station to keep me. Justin hugged my legs and called me Mom, begging me not to leave. He cried so hard. He is my son. How could I not feel sorry for him? “So I agreed to stay and pretend that Zach was my cousin. I just wanted to watch Justin grow up. I told Zach that you were his lifelong wife and asked him to forget me. But love made us unable to help ourselves. When we were deeply in love, I could not care about anything else. Just like that, we loved each other and stayed together for many years. “I thought I was hiding it from you for your own good, but I didn’t expect that I still hurt you. Everything is my fault. I was shameless and destroyed your family. If you want to blame someone, blame me, not Justin. You have raised him for twenty years. Can you bear to ruin his wedding?” As Sofia narrated, sweetness, pain, entanglement, relief, and other emotions alternated on her face. Finally, regret and begging. Seeing that I was unmoved, her eyes darkened. She rushed out and knelt at my feet, slapping herself in the face. “It’s all my fault. I am shameless. It’s all my fault…” Her well-maintained cheeks were soon covered with bright red slap marks. Zach held Sofia’s hand and looked at me hatefully. “Sofia, don’t hurt yourself. Yvette is very cruel. Even if you smash your face, she won’t let it go.” Justin left the helpless bride, with only his real mother in his eyes and heart. “Mom, my dad is right. Don’t hurt yourself anymore. You just love my dad. You were even willing to give up so much for me and my dad. Those people only sympathize with Yvette. Who can you complain to for your grievances?” Sofia was very moved. The man she loved and her son were on her side. But the bride didn’t think so. She was shocked and stunned. She took a few steps back. Obviously, she couldn’t accept such a worldview. I walked over to comfort her and said, “Miss, a blessed person does not deserve an unblessed family. How about you not get married?”

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My son, Oliver Harrington, was taken into custody by the police on suspicion of murder. Meanwhile, my husband, Gavin Harrington, was still on the slopes, skiing with his first love, Celeste Reed. This time, I didn’t ask him to come back. In my past life, I had begged him to return. But I never expected that, after he left, Celeste—alone on the slopes—would crash into a rock, suffering multiple fractures and dying before help could arrive. After dealing with her funeral, Gavin came back home, his expression unchanged. He even took us on a ski trip abroad for our wedding anniversary. But in the end, both Oliver and I fell into a trap. I screamed, desperately begging him to save our son, who was barely clinging to life, but Gavin stood there, his teeth clenched, filled with bitter anger. “If it weren’t for you two, she wouldn’t have died. I want you both to burn in hell.” Then, I opened my eyes again and found myself back on the day Oliver was arrested. This time, I let them have their way. I didn’t call him. But somehow, everything seemed to veer off course. ***** “I want to see my dad. If he doesn’t come, I won’t say a word.” Oliver, his emotions boiling over, stepped back, eyes flashing with defiance. Behind him, a crowd had gathered—school officials, police, and a pack of reporters. Just half an hour earlier, a girl had fallen from the roof and died on impact. But what was even worse was the initial coroner’s report—multiple bruises on the victim’s body, evidence of assault. Oliver, who had been at the scene, was now the prime suspect. I pushed through the crowd, desperate to get to him. Even though I had lived through this before, seeing my son standing on the edge again made my legs go weak. “What are you doing standing here? Get Gavin back!” Gavin’s parents arrived, shoving me aside. I barely had time to explain before Gavin’s mom pulled out her phone and dialed. The moment the call connected, it was immediately cut off. Relentlessly, they kept dialing over and over. But all that came through was a cold, mechanical voice. “The number you dialed has been disconnected…” Gavin’s dad slammed his hand on her shoulder. “Quick, call Celeste. Gavin’s with her right now.” I froze, a chill spreading through me. They had known all along—Gavin and Celeste were together. Then Celeste’s soft, sultry voice came through the phone. “Stop it. It’s your mom’s call!” “My mom? What does she want? Probably just Eleanor being jealous again, complaining to my mom.” “Oh, don’t… ah…” The phone dropped, and the unmistakable sound of their passionate kiss filled the line. My stomach twisted in disgust. As Gavin’s mom caught the uncomfortable glances from those around us, she quickly ended their kiss. “Gavin, come to Oliver’s school quickly! He’s about to jump!” After a reluctant separation, Gavin’s voice came through, sharp with irritation. “Mom, are you done? Since when did you become as unreasonable as Eleanor? You’re making up lies just to get me back? Oliver’s jumping? Really?” Then Gavin’s father grabbed the phone, furious. “Gavin Harrington! I’m ordering you—come here now!” “Dad!” Gavin cut him off, his voice cold and final. “Celeste’s birthday is today. I’m not ruining her mood. Whoever jumps today won’t stop me from being with Celeste.” With that, he hung up. The coldness in Gavin’s voice hit me like a punch. I couldn’t stop my whole body from shaking.

In my past life, I had been completely helpless. When I got the call from the school, I nearly passed out. All I could do was hope and pray that Gavin, being a lawyer, would know what to do. Oliver had always idolized him, listening to no one but him since he was little. In the end, I had to threaten divorce and give up custody just to get him to come back. But I never imagined how things would turn out. After Gavin left, Celeste, furious and alone, stayed at the ski resort. She ignored the staff’s pleas and kept skiing, only to crash into a hidden rock. Her spine was dislocated, and she suffered multiple fractures. The resort was remote, and with the heavy snowstorm, help couldn’t get to her in time. Celeste died there. I thought Gavin would blame me and hate me for it. But after arranging her funeral, he came home, his face unreadable, and knelt before me, begging for my forgiveness. He promised he would never leave the family again. I was overjoyed, believing every word. I thought that maybe, just maybe, things were finally turning around. When Gavin suggested a rare wedding anniversary trip, I thought it was a sign of things to come. But I had no idea… He had carefully planned a remote ski trip. He encouraged Oliver, who wasn’t good at skiing, to try the more dangerous areas, and I, in my desperation to save him, fell into the trap with him. Meanwhile, Gavin stood off to the side, indifferent, pouring bucket after bucket of ice water on us as we were trapped with nowhere to escape. In the end, he even released a snake, watching with cold detachment as Oliver and I were consumed by fear and despair. “You killed Celeste. If you hadn’t forced me to come home, she’d still be alive!” I didn’t understand. I pulled Oliver close, shielding him. And I looked at my husband, who looked like a completely different person. “But Oliver is your son too! He needs you! Shouldn’t you be there for him, especially when he needs you most? Doesn’t his life matter more than Celeste’s?” Oliver, trembling with fear, cried out, “Dad…” Gavin kicked an empty bucket down. “I want you both to feel the despair Celeste felt in her final moments. You’ll experience it, just like she did!” Oliver’s body was already turning blue from the cold. Until the end, he couldn’t believe his own father would be the one to kill him. That pain, that raw agony, still gnaws at my soul. On the roof, Oliver’s face was pale as he looked at me. “Doesn’t Dad believe in me anymore?” My heart was in my throat. I quickly tried to reassure him. “Oliver, don’t be afraid. Trust me. As long as we cooperate with the police and tell the truth, you won’t go to jail.” Not only would he not go to jail, but in my past life, Gavin had found a key witness. If we could find that person, Oliver’s innocence would be proven. “Really? You believe I didn’t kill her?” “Of course, Oliver. You’re my son. I know you better than anyone! Even if you had a knife, you wouldn’t use it to hurt anyone.” I saw a flicker of hope in his eyes. I signaled to Officer Lucas Sterling, who nodded in agreement. “Exactly, the police work based on evidence. No one will be wrongly accused. As long as you tell the truth, the law will be fair to everyone.” After a few more words, Oliver finally calmed down and stepped away from the edge. Just as the tension started to ease, a woman, wild-eyed and disheveled, stormed toward us. “Oliver! Why did you kill my daughter?! I’m going to make you pay for this!”

I froze, a jolt of panic hitting me. Without thinking, I stepped in front of Oliver, shielding him. “Why? My daughter never did anything to you! Why did you kill her?” The woman in front of me was covered in blood—her appearance was utterly shocking. But what struck me the most was the look on her face. I knew that face. She was Charlotte Vaughn, the mother of the deceased Serena Vaughn. A sense of dread started gnawing at me. This wasn’t how things went down in my last life. Charlotte gripped my shoulder with bone-crushing force, her eyes filled with rage as they locked on Oliver, who stood by the rooftop edge. “An eye for an eye! Oliver Harrington, I swear I’ll make sure my daughter gets revenge!” Gavin’s mom, unable to watch this, quickly intervened, “Do you even know slander is a crime? The investigation’s not even done, and you’re accusing my grandson of murder? I’ll sue you for this!” She turned to Oliver, a smug look on her face. “Oliver, don’t worry. Your father’s a lawyer—he handles criminal cases all the time. This is nothing for him!” Charlotte, her anger boiling over, snapped back, “You think you’re the only ones who can afford a lawyer?!” Alexander Vaughn stepped in front of his wife, calming her with a reassuring hand. “I’ve already contacted my lawyer. The firm’s taking on the case. They’ve got the best criminal lawyer—never lost a case in this area.” I grabbed Gavin’s mom’s arm, stopping her from continuing. If this kept going, things would spiral completely out of control. I turned to Oliver, who looked terrified, his eyes wide and uncertain. “Oliver, I know you didn’t kill her. You were trying to help her, weren’t you?” He blinked, taken aback. “How do you know that?” “I know she was hurt. You called her up here to the rooftop to protect her, to stop her from being hurt again, right?” I continued, “You thought only your dad could handle this, so you kept pushing him to get involved. But, Oliver, I can help too. Don’t you remember what I used to do for a living?” For the first time, he seemed to wake up, his face softening as he realized. Just as I was about to breathe a sigh of relief, Alexander’s phone rang. Oliver flinched, recoiling like a trapped animal.   “Hello, is this Mr. Alexander Vaughn?” The voice on the other end of the line made my heart drop. It was Gavin. A cold wave of shock washed over me. Everything felt like it was spinning in a direction I didn’t expect. I looked at Alexander and Charlotte. In my last life, I had only met them in the police station, never like this. It felt like something—or someone—was steering everything toward disaster. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was deeply wrong, but I couldn’t pinpoint what. “Sir, I’ve fully taken over your case. I’ve already reviewed the details. I’m so sorry for your daughter’s death, but don’t worry—I’ll make sure the culprit pays for this. I’ll make sure they get the maximum sentence.” Charlotte yanked the phone from Alexander’s hand, her voice filled with anguish. “I want that killer to die! The person who took my daughter from me—I won’t rest until they’re gone!” On the other end of the line, Gavin’s voice oozed with scorn, completely unabashed. “These kinds of people—society’s filth—I’ll make sure they’re put behind bars for good, even if I don’t take a penny for it!” “Dad!” Oliver spoke up, his voice trembling in disbelief. “What if…” He hesitated, his throat tight. “What if the person is innocent?” Gavin didn’t miss a beat, his voice dripping with superiority. I doubted he ever stopped to think about why his son was the one on the other end of the line. “I’ve already looked into it. The person who pushed Serena has a history of violence—multiple school fights and disciplinary actions. People like that shouldn’t be allowed to walk free. This tragedy is the result of the school turning a blind eye to his behavior!” Fighting? A history of trouble? I could hardly breathe as Gavin’s words sunk in. Ever since Celeste returned, Gavin had brought her on as his secretary, and he’d spent countless hours with her, all while secretly taking her to school meetings. Their behavior had become even more brazen, and it wasn’t long before they were caught in a compromising situation in the school bathroom by another parent. Oliver’s reputation was destroyed, and he was mocked by his classmates. If it weren’t for Gavin’s actions, none of this would’ve happened! How could he sit there and accuse our son of having such a history? Oliver took a step back, his voice barely audible, as if unsure if he even belonged in this conversation. “So, you think this person should die?” Gavin answered almost without thinking. “People like him—sociopaths—they’re a plague on society. The world would be better off without them.” I saw Oliver’s face turn ashen, and I reached out to hang up the phone. But before I could, Alexander intercepted my move, his hand stopping mine. I froze, my heart racing, as I turned to face Oliver. “Oliver, don’t listen to him…” “Mom!” Oliver forced a bitter, pained smile. “I’m sorry.” Before I could react, he jumped. “No!” I ran, my heart pounding in my chest as I sprinted toward the edge of the rooftop.

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My name was Lillian Miller. The day I went into the operating room to deliver my twins, my husband, Vincent Moore, flat-out refused to sign the consent form for anesthesia. He insisted I was allergic to it and couldn’t have any. So, there I was, undergoing an emergency C-section without any pain relief. When the moment came and my babies were pulled from me, I took my last breath and died. But my soul didn’t move on; it lingered, and I overheard a conversation between Vincent and his mistress, Nancy Fox. He said, his voice dripping with satisfaction, “Now you can rightfully be my wife. You won’t have to suffer through childbirth, and you can step right into the role of mother.” Nancy gazed down at my two little ones nestled in Vincent’s arms, a wide smile spreading across her face. And just like that, I found myself back in the delivery room on that fateful day once more. I jolted awake from a haze of pain, only to find a pool of blood soaking the sheets. I had been reborn. Just then, my husband, Vincent, burst through the door and froze at the sight of me. Panic etched across his face, he rushed to my side. “Lillian, it looks like you’re going into labor! I’ll call an ambulance right away. Just stay put; I’ll take care of everything.” In my past life, he had said the same thing, and I had believed him, trusting that he would handle it all. But I hadn’t anticipated that he would turn around and tell the doctor not to give me anesthesia, leading me to endure a torturous C-section that ultimately cost me my life. This time around, I was determined to seize control of my fate. I gripped his shirt; my voice strained with urgency. “Please, call my parents and let them know what’s happening.” Vincent shot up, irritation flashing in his eyes. “What do you need to call them for? I don’t want to worry them. I’ll take you myself, and that’s enough.” After dialing for the ambulance, he settled down on the edge of the bed, lighting a cigarette as if waiting for a casual visit rather than the arrival of our children. I was in so much agony that I couldn’t even move. I desperately reached for my phone on the bedside table, but Vincent quickly snatched it away from me. His annoyance deepened. “What are you doing? I told you, no need to call anyone. You’ve got me here to support you through this.” With all the strength I could muster, I replied, “My parents raised me. Now that I’m about to have my babies, I want them by my side. It would make me feel so much better.” Vincent slowly placed my phone on the far side of the room, out of my reach. “You don’t need to call them. It’s just two babies, Lillian. You’re not a kid anymore; you don’t need your mom and dad holding your hand.” Frustrated and feeling trapped, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I slipped out of bed, but in my weakened state, I lost my balance and fell to the floor. Vincent rushed over to help me up, his face devoid of concern. “Just sit tight and wait for the ambulance. Why are you moving around so much?” I pushed his hand away, my voice icy. “Why don’t you check to see if the ambulance has arrived?” He shot me a glare. “It’ll come when it comes. I don’t need to check.” I retorted, “What if they’re at the door right now? Go see what’s taking so long. It won’t kill you to check!” With a huff of frustration, Vincent stormed out of the room. Seizing the opportunity, I crawled over to the table, grabbed my phone, and dialed my mom. I strained to speak, “Mom, I’m in labor. You and Dad need to get to the hospital ASAP. I’ll be there in a minute.” Before I could hear her response, my strength gave out, and the phone slipped from my grasp, crashing to the floor as darkness enveloped me.

When I regained consciousness, I found myself in the hospital, having been rushed there by the ambulance. In my previous life, my parents hadn’t been informed, leaving Vincent as the only one by my side during my delivery. Back then, the doctor had informed us that my twins were too large for a natural birth. Vincent had simply replied, “We never planned on a natural delivery anyway. Let’s go straight to a C-section.” The doctor nodded and prepared for the procedure, handing Vincent the consent form for anesthesia. Vincent glanced at the paper and asked, “This is voluntary, right? If I don’t pay for it, you won’t use it?” The doctor paused, taken aback. “What do you mean? There’s no way to skip the anesthesia. This is a C-section! If you don’t use it, she’ll be in excruciating pain. Sign it quickly; we can’t delay the operation.” Vincent, however, tossed the form back at the doctor. “No anesthesia. She’s allergic to it.” The doctor’s disbelief was palpable. “Just sign it. We’ll assess which anesthetic is suitable. It’s impossible for her to be allergic to every single one!” Vincent stood firm. “She’s been tested before; she’s allergic to all anesthetics. If you don’t follow my instructions and something goes wrong, who’s responsible? “If she dies from the pain, it’s a complication of childbirth, not your fault. It’s on her.” The doctor was visibly shocked, likely unable to fathom such a callous statement from a pregnant woman’s husband. As the standoff continued over the consent form, the lead surgeon impatiently took the paper away. “Let the family make the decisions. We can’t make choices for them.” With that, the doctor proceeded to cut open my abdomen, and my screams echoed through the entire floor. At that moment, as my children were pulled from me, I took my last breath. After my death, my children became mere pawns in Vincent’s game, destined to be raised by his mistress, Nancy. From the very start, Vincent had intended for me to die on that operating table to provide her with a family. My spirit floated back home, where I saw Nancy cradling my children in Vincent’s embrace. He held her close, a smile on his face as he said, “Now you can rightfully be my wife. You won’t have to suffer through childbirth, and you can step right into the role of mother.” Snapping back to reality, I vowed that this time would be different. I wouldn’t let history repeat itself. As I lay there in pain, my eyes closed, I could hear my parents’ worried voices approaching. My mother, Miranda Miller, was frantically calling for the doctor, “Hurry! My daughter is in labor! Get her into surgery right away! I want the best doctor available!”

Once the doctors prepared for my surgery, the same situation unfolded as in my previous life—the consent form for anesthesia was needed again. This time, my mother, Miranda, rushed to grab the form, but the doctor stopped her. “You’re the patient’s mother, right? This decision should be made by the husband; he’s the primary guardian.” It was disheartening to realize that my fate rested in the hands of a man who didn’t love me and to whom I had no blood ties. Vincent snatched the form and glanced at it dismissively. “We’re not signing anything. Just go straight to the C-section.” Miranda’s eyes widened in shock. “What did you just say? Not using anesthesia for a C-section will kill her!” Vincent shrugged, unfazed. “Anesthesia isn’t good for the baby. The twins could be exceptional, and I won’t let a little anesthesia ruin that. Lillian can tough it out; she can recover afterward.” Miranda grabbed Vincent’s arm, her voice trembling. “Vincent, how can you be so heartless? Is this how you treat my daughter?” Back then, Vincent had been so attentive. He stood outside in freezing temperatures all night to apologize, and when he caught a fever for three days, he grinned like a child, saying, “Thank you for forgiving me; it was worth it.” I had been so moved that I insisted on marrying him despite my parents’ protests. They didn’t approve of him, but I was blinded by love and ended up arguing with them. Yet after we married, everything changed. Vincent treated me like a housekeeper, neglecting me and often not even coming home to sleep. I never told my parents about the hardships I faced; they had no idea how miserable I was. Miranda wrestled the consent form back, determined to sign it herself. The doctor sighed, caught in the middle, “I understand your concern, but since her husband is here, he must sign.” He handed the form back to Vincent. “Please sign quickly; a C-section without anesthesia could endanger your wife’s life!” If anything, those words seemed to solidify Vincent’s resolve. “I said no signing! How can you not understand? “I know my wife better than anyone. She’s allergic to anesthesia. If anything goes wrong because of it, who’s responsible?” The doctor was taken aback, and Miranda frowned, clearly worried. My father, Ryan Miller, pushed Vincent aside, his voice cold. “How could I not know my daughter is allergic to anesthesia? Are you deliberately trying to make her suffer?” To everyone’s surprise, Vincent pulled out a document proving my allergies to various anesthetics.

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My name was Alice Langley. In front of the filming crew and me, my fiancé, Eric Roberts, was flirting with his deaf assistant, Edith Accola, surrounded by a group of hearing-impaired children. “Ms. Accola, is he your boyfriend?” one eager child asked, eyes sparkling with curiosity. Edith blushed, a shy smile spreading across her face as she gestured for Eric to respond. He hesitated, glancing at me before turning back to the kids, signing, “Yes.” “When are you two getting married? We want some wedding candy!” another child piped up, bouncing with excitement. Eric grinned, his hands moving with confidence as he signed back, “Absolutely! I’ll bring you all to the wedding next week, and there will be plenty of candy!” His signs were quick and precise, showing no sign of the three months learning. Meanwhile, I, the so-called proper fiancée, felt like a complete outsider, a clown in this heartwarming scene. Later, when the charity video was released, chaos erupted at the wedding venue. Eric was frantically searching for me, his expression a mix of panic and concern. ***** With Eric’s affirmative response, a group of children erupted into laughter and excitement, surrounding Edith and him. Edith shot me a triumphant glance over the crowd, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. As I watched the lively and heartwarming scene unfold, my throat tightened, and I felt a wave of emotion wash over me. I couldn’t even recall how many times Eric had flirted with Edith in front of me using sign language. Ever since Edith had saved Eric from his deafness and accidentally discovered that I was fluent in sign language—something Eric was unaware of—she had turned their flirtation into a weapon against me. What once might have been a subtle concern had now become a blatant display, even in front of the cameras. As I was lost in my thoughts, Eric took a step closer. “Alice, what are you thinking about?” he asked, concern etched on his face. “I was wondering what your sign language meant just now,” I replied, looking up into his eyes. He shifted uncomfortably, avoiding my gaze. “Oh, it was nothing. “The kids were just asking when we’d come back to see them, and I told them we’d come after the wedding,” he said, his hands fidgeting with his watch—a telltale sign that he was lying. Before I could respond, he turned and hurried back to catch up with Edith. A little girl named Mia Queen, who had been snuggled up to me, tilted her head in confusion and signed. “Ms. Langley, didn’t you just say he is your fiancé? Aren’t you getting married soon?” I fought back tears and replied earnestly in sign language, “Not anymore, Mia. Promise me you won’t tell anyone about what happened today, okay?” After the event, Edith refused to leave with us, wanting to spend more time with the children. Eric glanced back multiple times, reluctant to get into the car. As soon as he opened the car door, I caught a whiff of the jasmine scent I despised. I couldn’t help but frown. “That’s a homemade air freshener from Edith and the kids. I thought it was nice, so I hung it up,” Eric said casually. But I remembered how I had wanted to use a calming scent for motion sickness, only to have Eric veto it because he didn’t like any smells in the car. The ride back felt tense and quiet. The mountain air was chilly, and just as I was about to grab Eric’s floral Winnie-the-Pooh blanket from the back seat to cover myself, he refused. “That blanket belongs to Edith. She doesn’t like anyone touching her things. If you’re cold, I can just turn up the heat,” he said, his expression calm as if this was completely normal. I turned to him, puzzled. “Why is her stuff in your car? We’re about to get married, Eric. “What’s going on? The air freshener, the lipstick, the blanket, the perfume—all of it belongs to Edith. “What kind of assistant uses her boss’ car like it’s her own?” I could see impatience creeping across Eric’s face at my questions. “Alice, why are you being so sensitive right now? Edith helped me with my hearing loss. Shouldn’t I take care of her a little? “This is my car, and you’re poking your nose into everything. It’s suffocating!” His words punched me hard in the gut.

When we were dating, Eric insisted that I keep a close eye on him, taking pride in the fact that it gave him a sense of security. But now, he said I was suffocating him? The mountain road was bumpy, and the temperature in the car was rising. Eric’s words made my stomach churn. “Where’s my peppermint spray?” I asked, rummaging through my bag, trying to recall where I had last seen it. “Edith used it last time. She thought it was too strong, so she threw it away. Why do you need it?” he replied nonchalantly. In the past, whenever I felt even a hint of motion sickness, Eric would spring into action—opening windows for fresh air and rubbing my back to help me relax. He had even scoured the market to find the perfect peppermint spray to ease my symptoms. But now, that special treatment had been handed over to Edith. I fought to suppress my rising anger. “That was mine! Why does she get to just toss it aside?” Suddenly, Eric slammed on the brakes, and I was thrust forward, my forehead crashing against the windshield. A painful bump immediately formed. “Enough, Alice! You were distracted at the event today, and now you’re nitpicking at Edith. What’s going on with you?” Eric snapped, his brows furrowing as he defended her. Clearly, my motion sickness and the bump on my head were nothing compared to my complaints about Edith. I shook my throbbing head, ready to respond, when Edith’s ringtone blared through the car. “Mr. Roberts, Ms. Accola just broke a toenail while playing games with the kids. We don’t have a first-aid kit here. You need to come quickly!” “Mr. Roberts, my foot hurts so much, and it’s bleeding! I’m so scared!” Edith wailed on the other end, her sobs echoing through the car. The moment Eric heard that she was bleeding, his face drained of color. “Okay, just keep her calm. She hates pain, and with her hearing gone, she’s really scared. I’ll turn around right now!” Here we go again. I knew Edith wouldn’t let me and Eric have our moment of peace. Rubbing my forehead, I said quietly, “Turn around.” To my shock, Eric told me to get out of the car. “Alice, be reasonable. Edith is hurt and needs someone with her. There’s no room in the car, and since you’re feeling sick, it’s better if you get out and walk for a bit. I promise I’ll be back to pick you up as soon as I get her to the hospital.” I stared at him in disbelief. “You want me to walk back down the mountain alone in the dark?” My voice trembled, but it didn’t seem to stir any sympathy in Eric. A minute later, I stood by the roadside in my thin workout clothes, watching as Eric sped off toward the welfare center, urgency written all over his face.

The next morning, I limped home, my clothes torn and dirty, and my feet blistered and bleeding. As soon as I opened the door, I was met with the sight of Eric giving Edith a massage. He was so focused on his task that he didn’t even notice me enter. Edith, draped in my own pajamas, had one of her legs casually resting on Eric’s shoulder. She looked at me with a smug smile, as if to challenge me. I slammed the door shut, startling Eric. “Alice, what are you doing back?” he asked, immediately pushing Edith’s leg off him, his face a mix of surprise and awkwardness as he started to come over to help me. But Edith cut in before he could reach me. “Alice, I know you’re upset that Mr. Roberts came back for me last night. But honestly, you don’t need to make yourself look so miserable. If you don’t like me, I can just leave.” With that, she feigned a pitiful struggle to get up. “Oh!” she exclaimed, and then she “accidentally” fell into Eric’s arms. He instinctively wrapped his arms around her, concern etched on his face. The two of them completely ignored me, engrossed in their own world, communicating in sign language as if I were invisible. I took a deep breath, turned on my heel, and headed to the guest room. I changed out of my filthy clothes and plugged my phone in to charge. As soon as it powered up, I saw a video from Edith waiting for me. “Mr. Roberts, are you really willing to have a wedding with me?” In the video, Edith’s face lit up with anticipation, her signs filled with joy. Kneeling in front of her, Eric looked at her with deep affection. “Edith, even though I can’t legally marry you, I promise I’ll make sure your wedding happens!” “Then I want my wedding to be on the same day as Alice’s! I want to go right after hers, and I want to bring all the kids from the welfare center. Everything about my wedding has to be just like Alice’s, but a little less fancy!” “Okay, okay, whatever you want, you silly girl,” Eric replied, smiling softly as he playfully pinched her nose. ***** I shut my eyes and pressed the power button, tears streaming down my face. Last night, I had walked alone along the mountain path, terrified and trying to avoid a reckless driver, only to tumble down and hurt myself. Meanwhile, Eric and Edith were at my house, exchanging sweet nothings. When I returned, Eric didn’t even bother to ask how I had managed to make it home alone with my phone dead. And now, he was planning two weddings. It was utterly ridiculous! The man Eric had become was a far cry from the one who once vowed he would marry no one but me. Ever since Edith joined the company, Eric had been vocal about her. At first, he complained about Edith, expressing his disdain and warning me to keep an eye on her, as if she were trying to steal him away. But that quickly shifted to praise and admiration. Eric would talk about how capable and resourceful Edith was. It all began three months ago when Edith and Eric took a client diving. During the excursion, Eric’s oxygen tank slipped from his grasp, and in a moment of heroism, Edith risked her life to save him, suffering permanent hearing loss in the process. Ever since that day, Eric hadn’t mentioned her name in my presence. I had been trying to convince myself it was all just gratitude. I ignored the constant stream of messages from Edith flaunting Eric’s affection for her and the way they flirted in sign language right in front of me. I had thought I could endure this. But everything that happened today shattered that illusion.   By the time I finished my call with Laird Borden, night had fallen. Laird lived right across from my house, and I had been raised by my grandmother. When we were kids, I taught myself sign language to help care for Laird’s deaf grandmother. But after moving away, we lost touch. Now, Laird was thriving abroad and had repeatedly invited me to join him as the chief designer. Initially, I considered it, wanting to be there for my grandmother in her final days. But then Eric proposed again, and I pushed those thoughts aside. I never imagined that after all this, I would still be leaving. As I stepped into my bedroom, I glanced around and noticed how much was missing. “Where are my paintings?” I asked, my heart sinking. “They were too abstract, and Edith was scared of them, so I got rid of them,” Eric replied, shrugging it off as if it were nothing. Once upon a time, Eric had treasured those paintings. The inspiration for his gaming company’s flagship mobile game had come from my artwork. It was my creativity that had helped him soar to success. Eric had promised that one day, those paintings would be framed and cherished, a testament to our love and shared journey. Now, just because Edith was afraid, he had tossed them aside like yesterday’s news. The memories of our struggles together felt like a cruel joke. Seeing my silence, Eric pressed on. “Alice, since Edith hurt her foot and has no one to look after her, I’ve let her stay in our master bedroom for a few days. You won’t mind, right?” He watched me carefully, as if afraid I might refuse. After all, just last night, I had argued with him over Edith. “Do as you please,” I replied, my tone flat. I decided not to escalate the argument. Eric’s relief was palpable. He wrapped his arms around me, leaning in for a kiss on my cheek, but I turned my head away. Unfazed, he suggested I get ready, promising to accompany me to try on wedding dresses later. Amidst all the turmoil, I had nearly forgotten about the wedding dress I had designed myself. Even though I had decided to leave, it felt right to destroy the gown I had poured my heart into. When we arrived at the bridal shop, Eric went off to park the car while I contacted a salesperson. Just as I finished giving them the name of my dress, I noticed a change in the clerk’s expression. “Ms. Langley, there was a woman who insisted on trying on this dress just a moment ago. I called the number you left, and the gentleman on the other end said it was okay for you to try it on. However, that lady is still in there. Let me take you inside.” As the fitting room door swung open, I was met with the sight of Edith in my meticulously designed wedding dress, posing in front of the mirror and snapping photos. I felt my hands tremble with rage. I was about to march over and demand she take it off when Eric, who had just arrived, caught my arm. The reflection in the mirror captured the moment as Edith, still clad in my gown, walked straight toward us. I couldn’t miss the flicker of admiration in Eric’s eyes as he took in the sight of her. All the pent-up frustration I had been holding onto suddenly dissipated.   “Take off that wedding dress in three minutes, or don’t blame me for losing my temper.” I delivered the ultimatum calmly before turning on my heel and sitting down at the reception desk. A few minutes later, Eric appeared, looking contrite, with a sulking Edith in tow. “Okay, Alice, I admit it’s partly my fault. Edith just loves your designs; she only wanted to try it on. Don’t be so petty about it. I’ve already agreed to marry you, so let’s not sweat the small stuff.” The subtext in his words suggested that this whole wedding was my one-sided push for a commitment. But it was he who had solemnly proposed to me three months ago by the sea in front of everyone. I knew Eric’s apology wasn’t genuine; it was merely a way to keep me from taking my frustration out on Edith. When I remained silent, Eric exchanged a glance with Edith, who stomped her foot in frustration before storming off. “Alice, the wedding is just around the corner. I’ve arranged everything at the hotel. You need to get back and get ready to look stunning as my bride tomorrow,” he said, his tone urgent. As soon as he finished, he made a hasty excuse about needing to handle something for work and rushed away. I understood—he was off to placate Edith. I grabbed my carefully packaged wedding dress and left the shop under the watchful eye of the staff. Arriving at the hotel Eric had booked for the wedding; I took a look around. Sure enough, the style and decor matched perfectly with the photos Edith had just posted on social media—only my venue was smaller, and the floral arrangements fewer. It was indeed a notch below hers. I let out a self-deprecating laugh, dropped the bag containing my wedding dress, and meticulously checked all the documents before heading to the airport. As soon as my plane landed, my phone rang. “Alice, where are you? You’re not in your room! Have you not changed into your wedding dress yet? Everyone’s waiting for you!” Eric’s voice was laced with urgency. He knew that if I took too long, he might miss the next event. I could hear him rummaging through things on the other end of the line. “Alice, why is your wedding dress torn and thrown in the trash? Where are you?” His voice suddenly shot up an octave. Before I could respond, a gasp came through the phone. I heard the sound of a video playing. “Renowned artist Alice Langley and Eric Roberts, CEO of the Roberts Group, are attending a charity event for hearing-impaired children. We see Ms. Langley engaging joyfully in sign language with the kids, creating a heartwarming scene…” It was the promotional video from the charity event I had arranged to be released today, perfectly timed to coincide with my departure. The line fell silent. A few seconds later, Eric’s trembling voice broke through the quiet. “Alice, you know sign language?”

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