Category: English

The whole world knew that Mason Whitmore treasured his wife above all else. In order to fulfill my dream of becoming an actress, he was willing to spend several hundred million dollars to tailor a movie for me. Simply because I said I missed him, he braved a heavy snowstorm and walked over a dozen miles to visit me on set. Even on our wedding day, he had our love story broadcast on commercial screens worldwide, allowing seven billion people to witness our perfect romance. But deep down, I knew that my child and I were nothing but pawns to make his first love regret her decisions. Later, he got what he wanted, and I completely disappeared from his world. Yet, he went crazy… ***** “Are you sure you want to take this international flight? It’s a 30-hour journey, and such a young child might not be able to bear it.” “Yes, I’m sure.” After receiving my affirmative reply, the airline staff on the phone asked for my personal information and remarked, “You and Mr. Whitmore must have a great relationship. Are you going to Acria for a vacation together?” I smiled and didn’t respond. I just gently patted my daughter, who was sound asleep in the stroller. Acria was remote and sparsely populated. There, no one would recognize me or Mason. Only in that place could I give Anna a normal childhood. A moment later, I received a notification on my phone that the flight ticket had been successfully booked. The agent called, “Your flight ticket and documents are almost ready. The visa will likely take about another month to come through.” I thought, “A month…” I lowered my gaze, my eyes fixed on the printed itinerary by the bed. In the past, Mason always avoided being on camera, but this time, he agreed to join a couples’ variety show for the sake of our daughter. The destination for the final episode of the show was Uchya. That was where I decided to marry him. At that time, I was already a somewhat famous actress. Afraid of being recognized, we always moved around in secret. He was willing to stay with me without any complaints. By the deserted arch bridge, he handed me a contract and knelt on one knee before me, saying, “Charlotte, I’ve acquired the best film agency in the industry to support you. Have you considered giving me a rightful place in your life? I promise I will give you the most perfect love in the world. Back then, I didn’t know that, in truth, he had already broken his promise from the start. His so-called perfect love was nothing but a massive lie. The only person he ever loved was Harper Sterling, the first love who had resolutely abandoned him when he fell into a financial crisis. Later, after returning to the country, the two of them got entangled once again. And I, along with our child, were nothing more than tools he used to make her regret her choices after his success. The door creaked softly. Mason gently wrapped his arms around my waist from behind. The natural scent of sandalwood immediately enveloped me. “Darling, did Anna make a fuss today?” I shot him a cold look, subtly pushing him away, and asked, “Why are you back so early?” He chuckled softly and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “I missed my precious ones.” As he spoke, our daughter in the stroller began to cry. Mason, usually strict and decisive in public, immediately bent down and picked up Anna, gently rocking her in his arms. He let her wriggle around and wrinkle his expensive shirt. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. Daddy will make you some milk…” With that, he carried her into the kitchen. The glass door muffled the sound. His back was broad, and Anna obediently lay on his shoulder. While making milk for our daughter, he didn’t forget to warm up a bowl of dessert for me. Love for the wife and pampering of the daughter, what a heartwarming scene. But the next moment, a sharp ringtone broke the silence. The caller ID showed a sun emoji. My eyelashes fluttered, and I picked up Mason’s phone, which he had casually left on the coffee table. As soon as I answered, a cry echoed from the other end. “Mason, you already have a wife and a daughter. Why do you keep sleeping with me over and over again? What do you even take me for…” What a dramatic, tragic storyline it was, if the male lead hadn’t been my husband, that is. Mason, still unaware of what had just happened, gently shook Anna’s small hand in the kitchen and waved at me. He mouthed to me, “I love you.” The woman on the phone was still crying. I forced a bitter smile at him but didn’t respond to his silent declaration of love. After all, from that moment on, I no longer wanted that love.

When Mason returned with the milk bottle, his gaze automatically shifted to the two identical phones on the coffee table. “Who called you just now?” I answered honestly, “It’s your phone.” The moment my words fell, his expression stiffened. He quickly grabbed the phone and started checking the call log. It wasn’t until his finger stopped on the sun emoji that I casually added, “Maybe it was a wrong number. I only said a quick hello, and then there was complete silence. “I waited for over twenty seconds without hearing anything, so I just hung up.” With that, I took Anna from his arms and, feigning innocence, asked, “What’s wrong? You look a little strange, honey.” Of course, he shook his head. With a smile, he gently pressed a kiss to my forehead and said, “I suddenly feel like I love you even more.” After saying that, he awkwardly changed the subject. “Anna’s birthday happens to fall during that variety show. I planned to invest an extra few hundred thousand dollars to book the venue and celebrate her first birthday on the show.” I looked down at our daughter, sitting on the carpet and playing with toys, and though I was about to refuse, the words got caught in my throat. After all, it would be her only birthday with both parents present. ***** On the day of the recording, Mason held Anna in one arm, his other hand firmly holding mine. In front of us, a six-tiered cake full of childish charm stood, decorated with vibrant colors. “Anna, do you like the cake?” Colorful ribbons cascaded down in response, and Anna waved her little hands, reaching for them. She giggled and babbled excitedly. But then, without warning, a few words suddenly slipped out. “Da… Daddy!” The moment I clearly heard the sound, I stared in disbelief at my smiling daughter. A mix of emotions surged within me. Mason, on the other hand, was visibly thrilled, his expression showing unmasked joy. “Honey, did Anna just call me ‘Daddy’? Sweetheart, call it again,” he urged, his excitement showing. Under great excitement, he announced he would give every staff member on set a monetary gift worth several thousand dollars. Immediately, the dozens of staff members present broke into smiles, eager to shower Anna with praise. I held Anna’s hand and finally, from the heart, flashed a genuine smile because of her. Amidst the joyful atmosphere, there was suddenly a loud crash from the filming crew’s side. Following the sound, I looked over to see a woman with an innocent appearance, her eyes welling with tears, standing next to the knocked-over tripod. She shot a deep, lingering glance at Mason before she couldn’t hold back her tears any longer and turned to run off. Mason, who had just made a promise, instinctively stepped forward but froze when our eyes met, his expression quickly retracting. He complained in a low voice, trying to hide his true emotions, “No professionalism at all! Who brought this person in?” But when it came time for Anna’s first birthday ceremony, he seemed distracted. His gaze repeatedly flicked towards the filming crew as if searching for someone. As nightfall approached, he made an excuse to leave, saying he had something urgent to attend to. The ancient town, with its small bridges and flowing water, was bathed in the soft glow of yellow lights. It was almost nine o’clock. According to Mason’s original plan, we were supposed to take Anna to the Blessing Bridge to make Anna’s first birthday wish. But he still had not returned. The crew was waiting, and I sensed something was off. Reluctantly, I had no choice but to hurry and search for Mason with Anna in my arms. As we passed by the arch bridge, I caught sight of two intertwined figures in the shadows beside the bridge. The moment I heard the sound, I instinctively covered Anna’s ears. But I could only helplessly endure their intimate, breathy whispers piercing my eardrums. “Harper, why are you crying? Can’t you bear it?” Mason gripped her wrist tightly, pressing her body against the rough tree trunk. His voice carried a clear tone of mockery. “If you hadn’t gone abroad back then, you’d be the one walking the red carpet and getting admired. And today, it would be our child calling me ‘Daddy’. “Harper, do you regret it?” In the shadows, I couldn’t make out Harper’s expression, but her broken sobs were crystal clear. “Mason, I beg you, let me go, please.” Yet, as she pleaded, her bare arms clung to him even tighter. I watched them, more and more consumed by their passion, a cold smile spreading across my face. But inside, a great sorrow surged in my chest. Without noticing, the hand covering Anna’s ears relaxed unconsciously. At this moment, with a loud bang, the fireworks scheduled initially for 9:09 PM shot up into the sky. As our initials spread across the night, Anna, in my arms, was startled by the explosion and immediately began crying loudly. Not far away, the two entangled figures froze, their movements suddenly coming to a halt.

My heart skipped a beat, and in my panic, I held Anna tighter, afraid of being discovered. But soon, I realized my worry was completely unnecessary. The dazzling fireworks only deepened the intimacy between Mason and Harper. He was fully immersed in their passion, completely oblivious to the cries of his daughter, whom he usually cherished like a treasure. Given that, I saw no reason to continue playing along with him. I tightened my hold on the still-sobbing Anna, swallowing the bitterness that welled up inside me. With a resolute turn, I quickly sent a message to my manager: [Stop the film. I’m quitting the industry.] ***** Back at the hotel, Anna was already drowsy, her eyes half-closed. After settling her down, I began packing up our things. Less than half an hour later, the door was hurriedly pushed open. Mason, his clothes disheveled, stormed in. “Charlotte…” He looked at me, his eyes showing unmasked panic. “Why did you suddenly stop filming? Are you feeling sick?” I didn’t look up, my voice calm and distant. “I’m just tired.” His face stiffened for a moment, and then he quickly apologized, his tone sincere. “Sorry, darling. I went off to prepare a surprise for you and lost track of time.” As he spoke, he pulled out his phone and showed me an electronic contract. “These past two years, you’ve had to delay so much work for Anna. I’ve arranged 10% of the company’s shares for you, along with some foreign estates and islands as gifts. “Charlotte, you’ve worked so hard this year!” The assets worth a few hundred million dollars were transferred to my name just like that. If I hadn’t caught them entangled just now, I might have actually believed he still had some feelings for me. After speaking, Mason leaned in, reaching for Anna to hold her. I looked at his hand, still wearing the wedding ring, and felt a wave of nausea. Just a few minutes ago, that hand had been gripping Harper’s wrist, and they had been entangled in passion in the wilderness. And now, he had put on his good father mask, reaching to hold my pure, innocent daughter. As I was about to stop him, Anna, in the crib, seemed to sense something and suddenly burst into loud, heart-wrenching cries as if she despised Mason’s touch. A look of panic flashed across his face, and he seemed momentarily at a loss. I calmly picked up Anna, saying, “She is sleeping. Please don’t disturb her.” As he repeatedly encountered setbacks, Mason’s expression became increasingly awkward. He didn’t know what to say. After glancing at us a few times, he simply muttered a soft okay. For the next two days, Mason seemed to be busy with something, coming and going at all hours, but I didn’t care. He only told me that the manager was handling the issue regarding the filming pause and asked me to stay in Uchya for a while. I didn’t refuse, as there were still some formalities I hadn’t completed for leaving him. It wasn’t until the twentieth day that I finally received a message from my agent saying everything had been taken care of. But to my surprise, that very evening, Harper knocked on my door. I opened the door and saw her, her face covered in tears. The moment she saw me, she suddenly knelt at the doorstep with a thud. “Ms. Gomez, please help me…” She shoved a medical report into my hands, her voice cracking in despair. “I’m pregnant, and the child is Mason’s. “Ms. Gomez, Mason and I grew up together. He promised me that he would love only me in this lifetime. From the very beginning, his marriage to you, having children with you, was all to provoke me, to force me to come back to him! “You are so beautiful. Why hold on to this marriage? But me… my child and I need Mason! “I beg you, I beg you to return him to me!” At that moment, the elevator bell rang from nearby. The sound of rolling luggage wheels echoed. Mason lifted his gaze, and upon seeing Harper kneeling at my feet, the smile on his face completely froze.   “Charlotte!” He hurried to my side, not sparing even a glance for Harper. His voice, filled with panic I had never heard before, broke through the air. “What nonsense did she say to you?” I smiled, but there was no smile in my eyes. “She said… she’s pregnant with your child.” “That’s nonsense!” Before I could even finish, he sharply interrupted, his rebuttal instant and forceful. When he looked down at Harper, there was a genuine, unmistakable anger in his gaze. “Get out, now!” Harper trembled at his shout, her eyes flashing with a mix of unwillingness and defiance. But in the end, she still stood up and left. I watched her retreating figure, feeling nothing but ridicule. Mason spoke of loving me, yet his actions showed an apparent tenderness toward Harper. Even when she audaciously caused a scene in front of me, he still shielded her, not even sparing me a chance to scold her. I snapped back to reality. Mason tightened his grip on my hand, urgency, and desperation in his voice as he tried to explain, “Charlotte, you know how much I love you. I’ve given so much to you. How could I possibly cheat with some random, low-tier woman who just popped up out of nowhere? “Trust me, I can’t lose you!” He held my hand, his promise firm and resolute. I was truly exhausted. It seemed easier to go along with him than to expose everything. So, I forced a smile and played the role of the understanding, supportive wife. “You’re my husband. Of course, I believe you.” But this time, when he heard those words, he didn’t breathe a sigh of relief like before. I saw the panic and confusion in his eyes gradually intensify. I wondered, “What is he afraid of? Losing me and Anna?” I couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh in my heart, saying nothing more. After we returned home, Mason started spending more and more time away. I didn’t mind at all. In fact, I was quietly preparing to leave. But on the day our visa was finally approved, Anna suddenly developed a high fever and couldn’t stop crying. On that stormy night, the villa halfway up the mountain was impossible to reach by car, and the driver couldn’t get through either. I was at my wit’s end and had no choice but to call Mason. What I got in return was his soft refusal. “Charlotte, there’s an urgent matter at the company. I just landed. “Anna is older now. Just give her some fever medicine, and she’ll be fine.” I held Anna tightly in my arms, her voice hoarse from crying. For a moment, I was so angry I couldn’t even speak. But Mason didn’t seem to notice at all. After casually responding with a few words, he hung up the phone. In helplessness, I had no choice but to leave the burning-hot child all alone in the backseat. Amidst her cries, I drove to the hospital on my own. On that rainy night, with car accidents on the rise, the emergency room was chaotic, filled with the sound of voices. I was holding Anna, struggling to manage a stack of medical records in my hands. As I was calming her down while she got an IV, my eyes met Mason’s, who was pushing a hospital bed out of the ward. In that brief moment, I saw Harper lying on the bed, her face pale, completely ignoring Mason, who was standing there in a daze. He grabbed my arm first. “Charlotte, it’s not what you think!” he said, opening his mouth to explain. But his hand, which had been hanging at his side, was suddenly grabbed by Harper. Amidst the noise, I only heard her weak voice. “Mason, my stomach hurts so much. Please stay with me…” Upon hearing that, he could only force out a wry smile and softly plead, “Charlotte, this is a misunderstanding. Wait for me to come home and explain. “Please, wait for me!” I ignored him completely. After all, I had no interest in waiting for his explanation anymore. I couldn’t be bothered to watch him wrack his brain for more disgusting excuses in front of me. Since he was so determined to be with Harper, I might as well help this couple. After confirming Anna’s condition with the doctor once again, I immediately changed the flight from a week later to tomorrow. At half past three in the morning, the IV infusion ended. I took Anna back to the villa and placed the divorce papers and wedding ring I had prepared earlier on the coffee table. Without packing a single thing, I headed straight for the airport. Everything here reeked of Mason’s disgusting presence. It wasn’t worth bringing it halfway across the world. The sunrise coincided perfectly with the plane’s boarding. I took a picture with my phone, along with the caption I had prepared in advance, and sent it on Twitter. [Four years of companionship, may we meet again someday.] The next second, my phone started ringing. I looked at the ID “Mason Whitmore” flashing on the screen and coldly pressed the power button to shut it off.

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The night before my wedding, I, Katrina Roberts, received a wedding dress that didn’t fit my body. Kevin Blunt, who had been my boyfriend for seven years, snatched it from my hands with a frown and said indifferently, “It’s not for you.” The next day, his childhood sweetheart, Lindsay Palmer, tried it on, and it perfectly fitted her. While looking at her with affection, Kevin said to me without even turning his head, “Don’t blame her. She just likes wearing beautiful outfits.” Then, he didn’t even come back home on our wedding night. So, I went to the hospital to abort the fetus in my womb and called the HR from Kevin’s competitor, Rachel Gill, and accepted their offer. “Rachel, I’ll be coming to work next week,” I said. ***** After pressing the sending button, I felt relieved. Meanwhile, Kevin hadn’t come back home for a whole night and just texted me as if he just discovered that he still had a wife. Kevin: [Do you wake up?] Without receiving my reply, he texted me again. Kevin: [Lindsay smeared the wedding dress yesterday. She didn’t mean to. Remember to take the dress for dry-cleaning when you wake up.] As expected, he contacted me for Lindsay. I blacklisted him and called the most renowned divorce lawyer around town, Max Groves. “Do you take a divorce case involving a marriage that just lasts one day?” As soon as I spoke that out, I couldn’t help but mock myself realizing that my seven-year affection for Kevin ended up in embarrassing vain. Max was apparently astonished and could only say, “Sure. Can you tell me the details about your request?” The conversation with the lawyer continued until noon when Kevin, who didn’t even take the groom’s suit off, cracked the door of my room open. When seeing me, he said nothing but asked with a frown, “Why didn’t you reply to my text?” In fact, I anticipated his question, as I always replied to him almost within a second after he texted me. During all these years of our relationship, I could only get a few words from his text reply. The few times he texted me on his own initiative, it was all for Lindsay. Hanging up the phone, I said perfunctorily, “I got up too late to see your messages.” Kevin didn’t seem to give a damn about my response and put his legs on the table after sitting beside me. Then, he immersed himself in his cell phone with a hint of a smile. Obviously, he was texted Lindsay. Without even looking up, he ordered, “Can you massage my shoulders? I feel so tight around there.” He probably didn’t pay attention to what I just said. Tilting my head, I suddenly noticed a kiss mark on his neck and felt so sick. No response from me irritated Kevin as he rubbed the skin between his eyebrows and said, “Are you not going to do what I say forever? Remember you’re an adult, not a kid, so stop being particular about all these trivial matters and…” The last half of his speech was interrupted as I stood up. “Tell me which part is tight,” I said calmly. Kevin stopped grumbling for a second. He was about to speak something again when he glimpsed the floor mirror opposite the sofa. Seeing my fingers placed near the striking kiss mark on his neck, he bounced up from the sofa as if getting an electric shock. As he stood up unnaturally, Kevin said something to justify his weird behavior, “Alright, you don’t have to massage me. I brought you lunch. Let me heat it up for you, okay?” After he grabbed his phone and fled into the kitchen, I raised my head and saw my ashen face in the mirror. The pain of abortion still lingered in my body, but he didn’t have the slightest clue that our kid had been aborted. Pressing my lips, I clicked on my Instagram and saw a picture enclosed with location information posted by Lindsay. It was taken in an upscale seafood restaurant with a text: [My darling took me to experience a wedding yesterday and took me to enjoy the seafood cuisine. I’m so happy, though it’s a little sorry to waste the food as I have a petite appetite.] In the photo, Kevin lowered his head to carefully wipe the oil stains from the corners of her mouth. They were as close to each other as newlywed lovebirds I gave it a thumbs up. There was a burnt smell coming from the kitchen, and Kevin hurriedly served the hot lunch to me. From the screen of his mobile phone, which was not locked yet, I saw the chat box with Lindsay. Looking down, I saw the so-called lunch he brought me was some shrimp, obviously the leftovers from his last meal. So, I stood up and poured this dish into the trash bin. My reaction gave him an excuse to vent all his dissatisfaction with me today as he smacked his tongue and said, “I have picked out the burnt ones and threw them away, so what do you mean with that goddamn face? “I’ve given you the wedding you longed for. What else on earth do you want? “I hate your petty attitude. There’s nothing between Lindsay and me.” As I looked at him, I found his excuses more and more hilarious. He must have known I gave a thumbed up at Lindsay’s Instagram. Without a doubt, she told him about that. What a cute couple they were! I put the plate back on the table and said calmly, “Don’t overthink. I’m just allergic to seafood.” Kevin was stunned and looked a little panicked. He said to with a trace of guilt, “Sorry, I forgot. I’ll take you on a honeymoon to make it up when our marriage leave is granted.” I didn’t say anything. Before, whenever I begged him to take me to travel, he would always decline and accuse me of ignoring how busy he was at work. Instead, he used every public holiday to take Lindsay to all the places she wanted to visit. After finding it out in the past, I questioned him about the pictures Lindsay posted on Instagram with tears, only to get his impatient reply, “Lindsay is a child. Do you really have to dwell on every single thing with her?” The wedding yesterday couldn’t be held if I hadn’t almost knelt in front of him. All the guests could see that I was not the heroine of that wedding. In the past, I would have made a fuss, demanding an explanation from him with wails. But now, all that remained in my heart was indifference. After thinking about what I had done in the past, I found myself incredibly stupid. Instead of agreeing with his proposal, I unlocked my phone and saw a message from Rachel: [Welcome to our company. You can start work anytime you want in the next two weeks.] I couldn’t help but smile and immediately replied: [Okay. I’ll be there next Monday.]

Noticing the bright smile on my face, Kevin asked with displeasure, “What are you talking about so happily?” I locked my phone and said perfunctorily, “Nothing.” Unexpectedly, he snatched my phone and tried to unlock it but failed after trying several patterns of the password. He couldn’t help frowning deeper. That was because all the passwords for all my software used to be his birthday. The message I didn’t reply to, along with my abnormal attitude to him, elicited Kevin to become suspicious. He cast my phone on the sofa and tried to ask casually, “Why did you change the password?” Picking up the phone, I replied calmly, “Nothing particular. I just wanted to change it.” Kevin opened his mouth but eventually said nothing. Then, I took me to dinner at night. As I opened the door of the passenger seat, a cute memo was attached to it. It said: [The exclusive seat to Princess Lindsay.] I was about to slam the door when Kevin grabbed my wrist and explained with an embarrassed face, “Lindsay put it there for fun. You can tear it off if you don’t like it.” His behavior was hilarious to me. If he had really cared about what I would feel after seeing this memo, he wouldn’t have allowed Lindsay to put something so provocative here in the very first place. All in all, he preferred Lindsay rather than me. I shrugged indifferently to show it didn’t matter to me and walked around him to the back seat. However, as soon as I sat down, I felt something hard against my butt. Then, I extended my hand and retrieved it. Inside the circle of the diamond ring was an abbreviated name, L.P., meticulously carved. I knew it was Lindsay’s name. Before I could take a closer look, Kevin hurriedly stretched out to grab it. “Lindsay must have dropped it on my car. I’ll bring it to her at the company tomorrow.” As he said that, Kevin observed my expression with evasive eyes to see if I was upset. My calm face relieved his misgivings. I could see it was the best seller of a renowned wedding ring brand, which allowed a man only to purchase one ring with his ID. The brand hyped the sense of ceremony of eternal love and loyalty everywhere before, and this concept deeply attracted me. However, when I pulled together the courage to ask to buy the rings, Kevin responded to me with only mockery, “You can’t see the trap of formalistic consumption? You are so dumb and hopeless.” Burying the grievances deep in my heart, I comforted myself that he was just an over-pragmatic man. Even at the wedding, I wore the plain ring he bought from a roadside stall a few years ago. Now, I discovered that I did have a sense of ceremony. He just preferred to enjoy it with someone else. I could imagine the passionate sex in the back seat that was so wild as to make Lindsay drop the ring. But it didn’t matter to me anymore. During the dinner, Kevin noticed that I took off our wedding ring when he finally shunned his eyes from his cell phone screen. As expected, he questioned me about that, and I replied indifferently without even raising my head, “Oh, I must have lost it. It’s nothing important anyway, isn’t it?” Hearing this, Kevin locked his phone with a troubled face. The thought that I might mind the ring in the back seat drove him to explain, “Lindsay begged me to buy her that ring when we went out purchasing before. I… I couldn’t break her heart, right?” I looked up and said with confusion, “And may I know what it has to do with me?” The totally different attitude he adopted for me and Lindsay triggered millions of fusses between the two of us. His initial indifference and indiscriminate insults later on made me see through this scumbag. Now, I just felt like he was interrupting my meal. After dinner, Kevin insisted on taking me to a mall to choose a new ring. Despite my repeated rejection, he still held on to buying me a new one. While I sat in his car and killed my time by viewing the street, the sky thundered. The next second, it started raining cats and dogs. That was when Kevin’s phone rang. The ringtone did not suit his style at all; obviously, Lindsay set that as the particular ring of her calls, which reminded me that last month, he yelled at me just because I accidentally touched his phone. I was two months pregnant at that time when he shoved me to the ground. A sharp pain struck my womb, and I almost had a miscarriage. Facing my pain, Kevin slammed the door and went out to take Lindsay to buy the snack she suddenly wanted to eat. Recalling the past, I couldn’t help but clench my fists. As expected, Lindsay’s cry broke out from his cell phone receiver. “Kevin, it’s thundering. I’m so scared at home alone. Can you come to my place?” she said. He immediately pulled over and said, out of an eagerness to be there with Lindsay without feeling sorry for me at all, “I have something urgent to do now. It is not far from the mall here. Just select the ring you like yourself.” I was left in the heavy rain. Looking at the road signs, I found the closest mall from here was a kilometer away. Then, I received a message reminding me to receive the money Kevin transferred to me for the ring. With a sneer, I transferred the money back to him and took a taxi home. The moment I reached home, I, still drenched, received the text that Lindsay sent me “by mistake”. Lindsay: [A hug from my darling smooths the fear brought by thunder!] It was accompanied by a selfie of her sitting in Kevin’s hug.

Before I could take a closer look at this message, it was immediately withdrawn. The next second, I received Kevin’s call when he tried his best to ask me in a calm voice, “Are you at home right now? Why did you refuse my money?” With the desire to change my clothes and take a hot shower, I replied casually, “Yeah, and I’m not short of money. Just keep it for yourself.” Noticing he didn’t mean to hang up at all, I added, “Anything else?” After a momentary hesitation, he asked, “Did you… Did you see that picture just now?” I sneered softly, “Yeah.” I heard his breathing going abnormally rapidly. He whispered his question, “Aren’t you mad at me?” Being mad at Kevin now seemed ridiculous to me as I had gotten used to it. He had abandoned me for the sake of Lindsay countless times. Putting the phone on the table, I changed my wet clothes while replying to him, “Why should I? Have fun with her.” The person on the other end of the phone breathed a sigh of relief, and his tone became noticeably lighter. “I’m glad you’re not angry. By the way, Lindsay’s birthday is coming in a week. You two have known each other for so many years. She heard that your family used to make traditional handmade decorations for living, so maybe you can make her one as a birthday present.” My breath paused. My parents used to run an old traditional craft shop and were even interviewed by the local TV. However, in my senior year of high school, they were killed in a car accident when purchasing raw materials. Orphaned, I hit rock bottom. After transferring to another school, the very person who warmed me and rescued me from the abyss of desperation was Kevin. Being moved by his attentive care for me, I agreed to date him, and he swore to me with tears in his eyes that he would treat me as well as my parents for the rest of his life. He knew exactly how anything related to craft would tear the scar off deep in my heart. But he still tore it off without hesitation anyway. Now, only seven years had passed, and he demanded I use my family’s traditional craftsmanship to make his childhood sweetheart happy. Feeling the pain of pinching my own palms, I tried my best to stay calm and said with a trembling voice, “I know. Tell her to send me a picture of the decoration she wants.” After hanging up the phone, I let out a long breath, convincing myself to take all of this as the reciprocation of Kevin’s help in the past. When this thing was over, I would owe him nothing. There were still a few days left on my wedding leave, so I went to the company to apply for my resignation and gave the finished decoration to Kevin. I hadn’t engaged in anything related to craft these years and scrapped many models to finish a satisfying one. I attached several Band-Aids to the wounds on my hand, all of which were caused by accidental scratches during the making of Lindsay’s birthday gift. Even though I knew it was for her, I didn’t want to finish it perfunctorily. However, as I approached his office, I heard him comforting someone in a magnetic voice. “I married Katrina just because I felt sorry for her. She is an orphan and has been with me for so many years. What will others see me if I don’t marry her? Lindsay, you’re the only woman I love. I don’t love Katrina at all. I just have to be responsible for her as a man.”   Instantly, all his shit about sympathy and responsibilities made me press my lips so hard that my vision kept going blurry. Despite all my preparation for accepting that he didn’t love me, listening to that thing from him still ached my heart. Seven years of my devotion eventually ended up being a complete joke. After taking a few deep breaths, I gradually calmed down and decided to at least end this relationship decently. As I pushed the door open, Kevin saw me and pushed Lindsay away from his arms as if he had been electrocuted. He stood up and asked in panic, “Why are you here?” Taking out an exquisitely packaged box from my bag, I said calmly, “I’m here to deliver. You should have received my message an hour ago.” Kevin was stunned and glanced at his phone whose screen was down on the table. “Sorry, I didn’t see it.” As we were talking, Lindsay bounced towards me and took the box from my hand. She rudely tore open the box I had carefully packed, took out the two small decorations, and chuckled. “Wow, Kevin, I didn’t expect you to take my casual words into your heart and ask her to make it for me!” After saying that, she separated the originally combined decoration very naturally and hung it on Kevin’s belt. “Okay, now our decorations are even a couple! Although it looks a bit ugly, I managed to appreciate the peculiar cuteness of it,” she said. Hearing her comments on my work, I subconsciously glanced at the Band-Aids on my hand and directly looked into Lindsay’s eyes. When making the decorations, I consulted a famous master of handmade crafts. He praised my finished work as an outstanding product that could be put on display for its prominent quality. Without a doubt, she degraded me on purpose. My sharp gaze gave Lindsay an excuse to cover her mouth artificially and hide behind Kevin, shivering in fear. She said, “Katrina, why are you staring at me like that? Are you still mad at the picture I sent you by mistake yesterday?” Since I had delivered the gift they demanded I make, I was reluctant to waste my time on these bitches anymore and was about to take out the resignation application from my bag when Lindsay rudely interrupted my action. “It’s all my fault for stealing your highlight at the wedding that day, but Kevin spent the whole day with me choosing that wedding dress. I just couldn’t help trying it on at a real wedding,” she said. I froze for a second in order to suppress the sickness coming up through my throat. So, that was the case. Until the night before my wedding, I didn’t have a wedding dress that only belonged to me. I remembered how humbly I begged Kevin to choose a wedding dress, and he always refused me with the excuse of being busy. It turned out that he was busy dating Lindsay. My hand holding the resignation application stopped, and I turned to look at Kevin with a bitter smile. “It seems that what I just heard outside your office is the word from the bottom of your heart, doesn’t it?” Kevin was quite at a loss to reply, and I turned around to leave rather than wait for him to make up another lie. He hurriedly caught up with me and grabbed my wrist, explaining to me incoherently, “Katrina, that… That is not true. The day I came with her to try on those wedding dresses was because…” “Save it, Kevin,” I interrupted him with a frown. “You don’t have to explain to me. I don’t care.” Kevin still thought I said those out of compulsion and rage, but when looking into my eyes, he was stunned as the only thing in my eyes was indifference. He finally began to panic, tightening the grip on my hand and saying with red eyes, “Katrina, I know I have neglected your feelings these days. Give me some time, and I assure you that I’ll make it up for you.” However, I just looked at him coldly and said without mercy, “I said I don’t give a damn about whoever you love. It has nothing to do with me.” My words made him stare at me in great disbelief. His lips trembled as he still wanted to say something. Eventually, he found himself speechless. I tried hard but couldn’t free my hands from his grip. As we were in the stalemate, all the lights in the company suddenly went out. Fire alarms rang throughout the floors, and people rushed out of the building, screaming. The sudden accident made him release his hands, and when I looked up again, he had disappeared. I followed the crowd and ran towards the escape passage but was knocked to the ground by Kevin, who carried Lindsay in his arms. He looked too nervous to notice me. After shoving me, he rushed into the escape passage with her and locked the door without hesitation, leaving me in the dark office building alone. As the warning lights kept flashing, my heart sank. I encountered the same situation once a few years ago. At that time, I was six months pregnant and was locked by chance in the office. As the office was gradually filled with thick smoke, I could only call Kevin for help. After failing to get through a dozen times, he finally answered my call and shouted at me through the phone, “Don’t you have anything else to do? Stop pissing me!” When I called him again, he blocked my number. I fainted in the fire, managing to save my life for the sake of the firefighters who came to the rescue in time. The baby in my fetus, however, was aborted due to suffocation. Losing my baby stranded me in endless pain as I wept every day, yet he scolded me for being too sentimental. Later, I found out that he was shopping with Lindsay when I was trapped in the fire. No matter how many times such emergencies happened, he would abandon me without blinking his eyes. That was so ridiculous. Fortunately, the alarm button was accidentally pressed, and I slowly got up from the ground, found the company seal in Kevin’s office, and stamped my resignation application with it. Also on that night, I hired a moving company to move all my belongings away. Before heading to the airport, I left the divorce agreement on the table. However, after I boarded and turned my phone to airplane mode, Kevin started sending me countless messages like crazy.

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For thirty years, I lived as James Crawford’s wife. Yet, in all that time, we never made it official. Every time I brought up getting a marriage license, he’d brush it off with a frown, saying, “We’ve been together forever. Why worry about paperwork now?” Nothing I did seemed good enough. James complained that all I knew was cooking and cleaning, while our son looked down on me for not being as “cultured” as his friends’ moms. I thought he just didn’t want to deal with the hassle of getting married again at his age. That illusion shattered when I found their marriage certificate in the study’s safe—his and his first love’s. They’d been married for thirty years. My whole marriage to him was just because his dancer wife couldn’t have kids due to her dedication to her art. But James wanted the perfect family package, and I was the solution. His parents, even my own son I’d carried for nine months—they were all in on it. Everyone knew except me for thirty whole years. I sat there all afternoon, my mind replaying my entire life. I’d given up my promising research career. Poured my heart into being the perfect wife, raised our son, and wrecked my body with pregnancy complications and postpartum issues. In the end, I couldn’t even call myself his legal wife. But before I became just another housewife, I was a researcher for classified government projects. So, I did what any trained professional would do. I signed the research institute’s Level A confidentiality agreement, left behind a fake death certificate, and walked away from that sham of a family. The rest of my life belonged to my country now. ***** “I’ll sign your agreement,” I told them, my voice steady. “If you are willing to hire me, I want to serve our country again despite my age. Let me make a real difference.” The researcher on the other end of the line couldn’t contain their excitement. “Mind? Are you kidding? Having you on board would be incredible!” After submitting my application online, I finally hung up. Then, I just sat there, staring at the marriage certificate in my hands. My fingers trembled as I held it, the pain in my chest so sharp I could barely breathe. This was the marriage certificate of my husband, James, and his first love, Lily William. Several vacation photos fell out. The pictures told their whole love story, from their youth to their silver-haired days, capturing moments of love across countless destinations. At the bottom was a yellowed photo with a note scrawled on the back: [Trip to the mountain peak with my wife, Lily. James & Lily, July 1987.] My throat tightened as tears threatened to fall. My heart felt like it was being crushed in a vice grip. That was the same year James and I had decided to build a life together. I met James during our time working in the countryside. Back then, I knew about his first love, but he promised me over and over that he’d treat me right. “That’s all in the past,” he told me. “Emma Chase, you’re the one I want to grow old with.” He was so refined, a medical professor at Altheria University. In those days, life moved at a different pace. When people loved someone, it was usually for keeps. I never complained when he didn’t throw us a wedding reception or when he’d suddenly announced business trips right when we were supposed to get our marriage certificate. But I never imagined he’d already gotten married to Lily. That was why he couldn’t marry me legally. While I was stuck in the kitchen day after day, they were traveling across the country together, seeing all its wonders. From twenty to fifty, he kept this secret from me for thirty years. Suddenly, the door creaked open. It was Ryan Crawford, my son with James, coming home with his wife, Maya Crawford. As I looked at the child I carried for nine months and raised with all my heart, my eyes instantly welled up with tears. “Ryan,” I called out. Ryan froze when he saw me standing there, his eyes landing on the marriage certificate in my hands. “Mom, why do you have Dad and Lily’s marriage certificate?” Now, it was my turn to freeze. “What did you say?” Ryan’s tone stayed casual like it was nothing. “Dad locked it away because he was worried you’d make a scene. How’d you get it open? Come on, don’t mess it up, or Dad’s gonna be mad.” Listening to his impatient warning, I suddenly realized how much of a stranger my own son had become—this child I’d carried for ten months. Even Maya seemed completely unfazed like none of this was news to her. So, everyone except me knew James had already married Lily?

Ryan kept pushing, “Dad’s working the night shift today. You should hurry and bring him dinner. You know how serious he is about his health. Don’t want him getting stomach problems.” My back ached with every movement. No one knew I’d hit menopause just as I turned fifty. I got up slowly and carefully, grabbing the lunch box as I headed for the door. Thirty years of habit didn’t break easily. Just before the door closed, I heard my son and Maya complaining again. “Can’t do anything right. If I was Lily and Dad’s real kid, I’d be doing way better in life.” The words cut through my numbness from years of domestic drudgery, piercing my heart. But it was fine. Soon enough, I wouldn’t be around to bother him anymore. I headed to James’ office. The usual ten-minute walk took me thirty minutes this time. The moment I walked in, James started complaining, “What took you so long? Getting slow in your old age?” I looked up at him. He stood there, tall and well-built, with his gold-rimmed glasses. The years had only made him look more distinguished and refined. Meanwhile, I’d never gotten my figure back after having the baby. My clothes always carried that lingering smell of cooking oil that just wouldn’t go away. This time, I didn’t apologize like I usually would. Instead, I pulled out that yellowed marriage certificate and placed it in front of him. “Got anything to say about this?” James paused, putting down his newspaper. “A marriage certificate? What about it?” His casual tone left me speechless. For a moment, I realized just how pointless these years had been. “James, after lying to me all these years, don’t you feel even a little guilty? Don’t you think I deserve an explanation?” I couldn’t keep my voice from breaking. James’ expression softened as he took off his glasses and rubbed his temples. “We’ve spent most of our lives together anyway. A marriage certificate doesn’t really matter at this point. Once things slow down at work, I’ll take you somewhere nice, just the two of us.” I lowered my head to hide the pain in my eyes. Every year, I’d brought up the idea of taking a road trip together, but James always had an excuse—work was too busy, or something came up with the kids. Now, he was finally suggesting it himself, but it was too late. I would be gone soon. “Make sure you eat properly,” I said, dodging his suggestion. James froze, frowning at me suspiciously. I busied myself collecting his half-eaten lunch containers, slowly making my way out of his office. When I got home, Ryan and Maya were out for dinner, giving me some quiet time to myself. After washing the containers, I started packing my suitcase. But then it hit me—after thirty-five years, everything I owned couldn’t even fill one small suitcase. A wave of emptiness washed over me, and my nose started stinging with tears. I roughly wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and hauled the locked suitcase into the bedroom, my back aching with the effort. The next morning at five, I found myself preparing breakfast for everyone, like always. Sometimes, I wondered if being tired my whole life had just become a habit. Besides that, I made sure to clean up the kitchen and organize everything that needed storing. I even washed and ironed all the winter clothes. I hoped they’d find some use for all of this after I was gone. The sun was high in the sky when I heard the front door open. James was back, with Lily looking stunning by his side. When he saw the breakfast I’d laid out, he casually announced, like it was the most natural thing in the world, “Lily’s going to live with us from now on. This way, someone can look after her, and I won’t have to worry all the time.”

I looked over at Lily. She was wearing an expensive-looking dress with a fur coat that made my simple clothes look downright shabby in comparison. Ryan took a bite of his sandwich, his face lighting up. “Dad, that’s a great idea. I’ve been thinking Lily should move in with us for ages.” Everyone instantly agreed without bothering to ask what I thought about it. My fingers twisted into my apron. “James, we should break…” The word “break up” just wouldn’t come out of my mouth. It felt too embarrassing to say outright. So I pressed my lips together and tried again. “I should leave.” The whole living room went dead silent. Ryan jumped straight to accusations, his voice dripping with irritation. “Mom, what’s your problem now? Aren’t you way too old for this divorce drama?” Maya stood up and tried to guide me to a seat. “Emma, you must be tired. Come on. Sit down and eat something. We can talk this out, right?” But James just sat there on the couch, lit up a cigarette, and looked at me with cold eyes. “Emma, I’ve been too nice to you. What, you think you’ll still live like a rich housewife after leaving me?” Each comment felt like a knife to my heart. Rich housewife? Really? All these years, I’d had it worse than a housekeeper. At least they got paid for their work. What did I get? There was no respect from my family, not even a shred of honesty. Lily wrinkled her brow and pretended to wipe away the tears that didn’t exist. “I guess I shouldn’t have come. Looks like I’m just causing you all to fight.” She made a show of getting ready to leave. James put out his cigarette and stood up, grabbing her hand. “Going where? When I say you can stay, you stay, no questions asked.” Ryan chimed in with a reassuring smile, “Yeah, Lily, make yourself at home. Let’s go out and grab something nice to eat today.” They looked so cozy together, chatting and laughing like a perfect little family. Meanwhile, there I was, separated from them by an invisible wall that might as well have been a mile wide. They left in high spirits, their laughter trailing behind them. Just then, my phone pinged with a notification—my application to return to the research institute had been approved. A smile spread across my face. Just like that, all my worries seemed to melt away. Right on cue, someone from the institute called. After the usual congratulations, they got serious. “Ms. Chase, once you start researching here, you might not be able to go home much. Have you discussed this with your family?” I pressed my lips together, hesitating. They were still my family after all—thirty years of shared history, even if they barely cared about me. “I’ll get back to you tonight,” I said finally. After hanging up, I tried to stand, but a sudden spasm shot through my back, leaving me doubled over in pain. Years of running myself ragged without rest had caught up with me in the form of a herniated disc. I dragged myself out of the house after a long while, moving slowly. After picking up some medicated patches at the pharmacy, I was heading back to my apartment when I heard someone call out. “Hey, Emma!” I turned to see the head of OB-GYN from James’ hospital. “How are you feeling? Any better?” Back when I had Ryan, I hadn’t gotten proper postpartum care, which left me with all sorts of health issues. By the time I hit my late forties, I ended up with uterine prolapse and had to get a hysterectomy. During my hospital stay, James never once visited. The only calls I got from him were asking when I’d be discharged because no one was around to cook his meals or do his laundry. The memory still stung, but I managed a nod. “Much better. Thanks for asking.” I hurried home after our brief chat, my body aching with each step. After slapping on the patches, I crashed into bed. When I woke up, it was already dusk, and there was a commotion outside my room. As the door opened, I caught snippets about “wedding photos” and “honeymoon”. I froze. “Dad, you and Lily have been married for years,” Ryan was saying, sounding excited. “It’s about time you guys finally got those wedding photos done. Now you won’t have any regrets!” A massive wedding portrait dominated the living room. There was James in a black suit and Lily in a wedding dress, both beaming with joy. I stared at it, feeling the tears well up in my eyes as my heart shattered all over again. “Mom, perfect timing. Help us get these photos up to the bedroom,” Ryan called out to me. I stood frozen in place. For years, I’d dreamed of taking wedding photos with James, trying to make up for what we missed when we were young. But every time I brought it up, he’d brush it off like I was being ridiculous. It turned out I was just living in a fantasy world. James stubbed out his cigarette and jerked his chin toward the table. “There’s takeout and health supplements for you there. Don’t say nobody in this family cares about you.” He poked at the medicine bags on the coffee table with obvious disgust. “All you do is waste money. If you can’t earn any, at least learn to save some. How are you gonna help with the grandkids at this rate?” I felt pathetic. The bank notifications were still sitting in my phone, undeleted. All their expenses today—the wedding photos, meals, and entertainment—came from my retirement benefits. No one had ever bothered to ask where I got the money from. They just assumed I’d pocketed the living expenses James provided. The wedding photo hung above their bed in the master bedroom, both of them beaming with joy. Their happiness felt like a mockery of my misery, a cruel reminder that I was destined to be their servant forever. In the living room, they were still chatting about vacation plans, deliberately leaving me out of the conversation. I was done holding onto false hopes. So I opened the text from the research institute and replied: [No need to tell them. I’ll report in soon.]   I quietly went to my room and started packing my belongings into a woven bag. The noise caught their attention. Ryan’s lips curled in annoyance as he looked at me. “Mom, aren’t you tired of acting like the victim all the time? You’re making it seem like we’re abusing you or something.” I ignored him and kept packing. Suddenly, Ryan snatched the bag and hurled it against the wall, scattering clothes all over the floor. “Can’t you read the room?” he shouted. “Why are you trying to butt in on our vacation? Haven’t you caused enough drama already?” The living room went dead silent. I stared at Ryan through a haze, tears blurring my vision. I’d raised him and devoted decades of my life to him without a moment’s rest. And this was what I got in return—a son I’d have been better off never having. James cleared his throat and pulled out his phone. “Whatever. I’ll get you a ticket. You can head out early and meet us at the airport.” He made a show of booking me a train ticket to Emerald Island. My whole body went rigid. There was no way James didn’t know what a nightmare that journey would be—the train ride, then having to take a ferry across the water. They’d be flying first class while sticking me with a thirty-six-hour train ride. His message was crystal clear—he wanted me to be their free vacation nanny. A wave of bitterness and hurt washed over me. I snatched the phone and smashed it against the floor. “James, how much longer are you going to play me for a fool? We were never really married. I don’t owe you or your family anything.” I spun around and pointed at Ryan, fury burning in my chest. “And you. Did I carry you for nine months just to hear you call someone else Mom? You keep saying I’m obsessed with that marriage certificate, but you don’t get it. Without it, you’re nothing but an illegitimate child.” Ryan’s face dropped as the words hit him, his mind struggling to process what he’d just heard. All the emotions I’d been bottling up finally exploded. At that moment, I just needed to get everything off my chest. But before I could say another word, a hand cracked across my face. The force sent me sprawling to the ground. I slowly turned my head to look up. James loomed over me, breathing hard, his face dark with rage. “If you want to lose it, get the hell out of here. You know you’re nothing but an outsider without that marriage certificate, so just go. You’ve got no right to judge my wife and son.” I stared at him, unblinking. Our eyes locked, and there was nothing left but pure hatred between us. “Oh dear,” Lily chirped, rushing forward to guide James back to his seat. “James, calm down. Emma’s just upset. It’s normal for her to be a little emotional.” She turned to me with a condescending look on her face. “Emma, I hate to say this, but why are you making such a huge deal over a marriage certificate? It’s just a piece of paper. “You don’t need to worry about me stealing James away. We’ve lived most of our lives already—we can still have a good life without all this drama.” She patted my shoulder as she spoke. That was when I noticed the diamond bracelet on her wrist. My heart stopped. It was the expensive piece of jewelry I’d bought for Maya when Ryan got married. I’d spent every penny of my savings on it. Maya had always been stingy, never giving away her things easily. Yet here it was, wrapped around Lily’s wrist. If that wasn’t proof that Maya and Ryan had accepted Lily, I didn’t know what was. I looked up at Maya, but she quickly averted her eyes when our gazes met. I let out a bitter laugh and struggled to get up. Everyone just stood there, watching me coldly. God, I felt pathetic. It took until the end of my life to realize that everything I’d done for them—all those years of sacrifice—had gotten me absolutely nothing in return. I guess this was karma. And honestly, I probably deserved it. It was time I lived for myself. I turned around and walked straight out the door, not even bothering to grab my luggage. Behind me, James’ irritated voice rang out. “Hurry up and pack. Change the tickets to tonight. I’m sick of dealing with all this drama at home.” I didn’t break my stride. Once I got outside the complex, I immediately dialed the research institute. “Hello, I’ll be coming to the institute tonight.” Thirty minutes later, I was in a military vehicle, passing right by James’ car and going the other way.

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The night before my wedding to Kayden Crawford, I committed suicide. When news of my death broke, it sent shockwaves through everyone who knew me because I had been the adopted daughter of the Crawford family. My adoptive parents adored me, and my adoptive brother Kayden loved me even more. We got engaged when I turned 18, and soon after, my adoptive parents transferred all their shares to me. Everyone envied my good fortune. Without lifting a finger, I was already worth hundreds of billions and basked in admiration. But when my suicide note was made public, everyone went crazy. ***** On the third day after my death, Kayden finally showed up at the mental hospital to see me. He stood at the doorway of the basement, yelling, “Lainey, you’ve been trying so hard to get me to marry you, haven’t you? “Now that I’m here to pick you up for the wedding, you’re hiding away from everyone. What do you think I am?” Silence was the only answer he received. Kayden had no idea that I was standing right in front of him in the form of a soul. I had died the night before my wedding to my adoptive brother. He claimed that my love for him was a twisted obsession, a mental illness, and instructed his secretary, Sophie Porter, to have me committed to this mental hospital. The dead only added fuel to the fire, saying, “Mr. Crawford, Ms. Simpson has been refusing treatment and bullying other patients, so we have no choice but to keep her locked up.” His assistant, Jacob, couldn’t help but retort, “Mr. Crawford, you watched Ms. Simpson grow up; she has never been unreasonable…” Kayden cut him off with a sneer, “She dared to climb into my bed and force me to marry her. Isn’t that unreasonable?” Jacob fell silent, lost for words. I floated beside him, wanting to shout that he had it all wrong. I hadn’t drugged him that night. I had simply gone to pick him up as usual, and he had pushed me into the backseat of the car and taken advantage of me. But now, he couldn’t hear any of my explanations. Kayden’s expression darkened, and he barked, “Open the door!” With a loud creak, the rusty iron door swung open. The next moment, everyone froze at the sight before them. On the white wall, in blood, were scrawled words like “Save me” and “I’m not a bitch.” It was a horrifying sight. Kayden’s cold demeanor faltered for just an instant as he turned to the dean, asking, “What is this?” Panic-stricken, the dean explained, “Mr. Crawford, this is Ms. Simpson’s usual tactic. She often resorts to suicide to force us to open the door, claiming she just loves you and wants to come out and find you.” Kayden’s eyes darkened further with fury. “Lainey Simpson…” With that, he strode deeper into the basement, but the further he went, the more bloodstains appeared on the walls, and the messages grew increasingly frantic. Upon closer inspection, he saw that the entire wall was covered with the words, “I want to die.” Kayden became even more convinced that I was merely putting on an act. He scoffed, “She wants to die just over such a trivial matter? She always plays the victim!” I hovered beside him, feeling my soul tremble. Kayden, I was really dead. When I was sent to this mental hospital, he severed all my ties to the outside world, insisting I reflect on my actions. But the very next day, the hospital staff informed me that Kayden had ordered them to “correct my distorted thoughts.” So, I went from being a devoted sister to a prisoner in a facility. I was confined to the basement, shackled for 24 hours a day. I was forced to eat the leftovers discarded by the hospital staff. And my so-called attending physician was truly a monster. He would sneak into the basement every night, forcing me to kneel and crawl on the floor like a dog. He would prick me with needles, forbidding me from making a sound, or else I’d be subjected to electric therapy the next day. At first, I thought about reaching out to Kayden for help. But when I sneaked into the dean’s office to call him, he dismissed my pleas. He said, “Lainey, you need to know when to stop lying. Which doctor would dare touch the daughter of the Simpson family? Since you refuse to admit your mistakes, you should remain here.” As the busy signal echoed in my ears, despair washed over me. The doctor and the dean looking for me quickly arrived. I was electrocuted for a day and a night, and then they restrained me and tossed me into a car. Only then did I realize they intended to sell me for my kidneys. Before entering that second hell, I chose to jump from the car on the highway. As I hit the ground, a truck barreled toward me… As I resurfaced from my memories, Jacob had violently broken the lock of the basement door, and Kayden kicked it open. “Enough of the tricks, Lainey!” he shouted angrily. But then his voice trailed off, and everyone else gasped at the sight inside. The cramped space was a makeshift bathroom filled with a foul stench, and I was nowhere to be found. The floor was covered in blood, and the bathtub was filled with thick, blackened blood.

I trailed behind Kayden, following his gaze. Everything was bloody. He was usually a total neat freak, but right now, surprise was the only expression on his face. The scene before us was indeed chilling. Kayden’s pricey leather shoes crunched over blood, and the nauseating stench didn’t seem to bother him at all. He frowned at the dean, his voice icy. “She lives here? Where is she?” Sweat dripped from the dean’s forehead. “Mr. Crawford, Ms. Simpson has threatened us with this kind of stunt before, saying that if we don’t let her see you, she’ll end her life here. “But there was a power outage at the hospital last night, and Ms. Simpson might have seized that chance to escape.” My anger surged, shaking me to my very core. I drifted in front of the dean and the group of doctors, my eyes burning with rage. “Kayden, they’re lying! They’re all lying to you!” my soul screamed. It was clear they were just trying to cover up the truth about my accident. They had transported my freshly deceased body back to the hospital and harvested my organs before they could decompose. Those nightmares replayed in my mind. Even as a spirit, I still felt fear and cold. Jacob, unable to watch any longer, tentatively asked, “Mr. Crawford, has something really happened to Ms. Simpson? Should I call the police…” But Kayden believed the dean’s words and snorted coldly, “How could something happen to her? She’s such a drama queen. She cried at the slightest bump or bruise, and now, she’s pulling this stunt just for attention.” He narrowed his eyes, scanning the area with a mocking smile on his lips. “She’s really playing her cards now, thinking she can fool everyone. Too bad no one knows her better than I do.” Kayden stormed out of the basement, instructing Jacob to gather a search party. “Search thoroughly. You must bring her to me today, even if you have to turn Kingburgh upside down. “Sophie is right. Lainey didn’t show up at the wedding because she’s determined to make the Crawford family a laughingstock in Kingburgh.” His harsh words shattered my heart. He had locked me away in this hell and ignored my existence, only to look for me now out of fear that I would bring shame to his family? I had thought that no matter how cruelly he treated me, there would still be some lingering feelings for me deep down. From the time I was five until I turned 18, he had dominated my world. That was why I had fallen for him uncontrollably. I had kept my feelings hidden away, but that night, Kayden hugged me and repeated, “Lainey” and “I love you” over and over again. I finally mustered the courage to confess my love the next day. However, Kayden had scolded me, wearing a sinister expression, claiming I had a twisted mind for daring to seduce my adoptive brother. Later, Sophie had told me, “Ms. Simpson, you’re Kayden’s adoptive sister. You shouldn’t have those kinds of feelings.” What had happened that night was exposed and his parents had decided to let us get engaged. During our two years of engagement, Kayden had remained distant and repulsed by me, while growing closer to Sophie. I didn’t know what Sophie had told him, but two months before the wedding, I’d been forcibly sent to this mental hospital. Was it really so wrong to fall in love with him? Kayden waited in the dean’s office for an hour. Jacob rushed back in, reporting, “Mr. Crawford, the surveillance cameras on the nearby streets were destroyed three days ago, but someone saw a van leaving the mental hospital late at night. “Ms. Simpson may have been taken away. If we call the police and trace the vehicle, we’ll surely find her.” Kayden sneered, “It seems my lesson for Lainey wasn’t enough. She staged her own kidnapping and fooled all of you! “Freeze her assets and lock down Kingburgh. Let’s see where she thinks she can hide!” With that, he kicked a chair over in frustration and stormed out. My heart sank. I wanted to cry, but as a soul, I had no tears. Kayden, if you knew I was dead, would you still think this way?

Kayden left the mental hospital, and my soul followed beside him. As soon as we got into the car, his mother, Natalie Crawford, called. “Kayden, the wedding is about to start. Why haven’t you brought Lainey back yet?” Kayden hesitated momentarily before replying, “Something came up. We’ll be there soon.” I sat on the other side of the seat, watching as Kayden picked up his phone multiple times, only to put it down in annoyance. When we returned to the wedding venue, as soon as he stepped out of the car, a woman with long curly hair in a professional suit rushed over. “Kayden, you’re back!” Kayden’s expression softened, and he gently took her arm, saying, “Slow down. Don’t be so hasty.” Sophie pouted playfully, letting out a small snort. Seeing how intimate they were, I quickly looked away. Kayden’s tenderness had once been mine, but since Sophie had entered the picture, she had gradually taken everything from me. “Kayden, did Ms. Simpson still refuse to come back? Is she still upset that we sent her for treatment?” Sophie’s eyes glistened as she feigned guilt and annoyance. Kayden reassured her, “It’s not your fault. Lainey is simply ungrateful. When she returns, I’ll make sure she apologizes to you. I’ve sent someone to look for her, so don’t worry.” With that, he took Sophie into the venue. In front of the dressing room, Kayden casually asked, “Sophie, did Lainey ever talk about her time in the mental hospital with you over the past few months?” Sophie avoided his gaze, looking guilty. “No, I chose that hospital because I heard the staff were very responsible. Kayden, what’s going on?” Kayden replied, “Lainey was playing the victim in the basement, leaving blood everywhere. But there’s nothing a manipulative person like her wouldn’t do.” Sophie forced a smile. I clenched my fists, whispering urgently in Kayden’s ear, “She’s lying to you! She’s the one who sent me there! You can’t trust her!” But no one could hear my voice. Even if Kayden had, it was useless because he no longer believed me. When Kayden entered the reception room dressed in a suit and tie, he noticed the guests who had just expressed their congratulations now wore uneasy expressions, as if they were hesitant to speak. I sat in the front row, watching the wedding I had always dreamed of and the man I loved most. But Kayden kept checking his phone, a frown etched on his face. Suddenly, his phone rang, and I saw Jacob’s name on the screen. As soon as he answered, Jacob’s panicked voice came through. “Mr. Crawford, I found Ms. Simpson, but…” Kayden scoffed derisively, “I’ve already agreed to marry her. How long is she going to keep this charade up? “Put Lainey on the phone.” Jacob fell silent for a long moment before stammering, “Three days ago, Ms. Simpson was dismembered and dumped in the sewer.” Kayden’s expression froze. Jacob continued, “Her body was recovered yesterday, and the DNA results are in. It’s all over the news in the city. “Mr. Crawford, Ms. Simpson is dead.”

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For our tenth wedding anniversary, my husband, Edward Collins, lit up the entire city with fireworks just for me. The neon lights of skyscrapers sparkled with his grand proclamation of love: [Emma, I will love you forever.] Our love was the envy of everyone—a romance so dazzling that the whole city knew our names. Every year, on my birthday, he’d charter a private yacht. On ordinary days, it was endless flowers and thoughtful gifts. To the world, I was the luckiest woman alive. But only I knew the truth. It was all for show—for her, the one who got away. Just hours ago, I found something in the inner pocket of Edward’s suit jacket—a carefully laminated photograph of him and his first love, taken ten years ago. On the back, in his unmistakable handwriting, were the words: [My one true love.] Ten years of what I thought was true love turned out to be nothing more than a cruel joke. Without a word, I left divorce papers on his desk, packed our child’s things, and walked out of the Collins villa. But after I was gone, Edward lost his mind. ***** I slid the photo back into his pocket, my fingers trembling. It was old, worn at the edges, but carefully laminated as if the owner had cherished it all these years. My chest tightened as I stared at my phone, typing the name “Amelia Moore” into the search bar. She was a travel blogger with a decent following, living abroad for years. She was also Edward’s first love. He had loved her deeply, and after she left the country, they hadn’t been in touch—or so I thought. The suit jacket where I’d found the photo? It was a custom anniversary gift we’d just ordered last week. The photo couldn’t have been placed there long ago. Scrolling through Amelia’s latest post, I saw her caption: [It’s been ten years. Don’t I deserve to chase my happiness too?] Beneath her words was a picture of a plane ticket back to the country. The date? Today. My vision blurred. My knees nearly buckled. I had married Edward, thinking that he’d let go of his past. For ten years, we lived what I thought was a perfect love—attentive, harmonious, like newlyweds. Now I realized he’d never truly moved on. Why? “Emma? What’s on your mind?” Edward’s familiar voice pulled me from my thoughts. I turned to see him holding a bag of desserts, tilting his head as he smiled at me, “Are you feeling lightheaded again? I stopped by the bakery and got your favorite.” He walked over and took my hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world. His eyes flickered to the suit in my hands. “Why are you doing this yourself? You could’ve asked one of the servants.” With a practiced nonchalance, he took the suit from me and hung it neatly on the rack. In that split second, I caught him glancing at the inner pocket. The relief on his face when he saw the photo still there was subtle but unmistakable. My heart sank deeper. Edward led me to the couch, frowning slightly. “Why are your hands so cold? Did you catch a chill last night?” I shook my head wordlessly, my mind in turmoil. Last night, Edward had orchestrated a city-wide spectacle of fireworks, declaring his love for me to the entire world. For a brief, shining moment, I’d believed I was the happiest woman alive. Now I knew the truth. Even as he proclaimed his eternal love for me, he kept a picture of his first love—right next to his heart. Overnight, I went from being on top to hitting rock bottom. Edward opened the dessert box and handed me a fork, his usual gentleness on full display. Before I could take a bite, his phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at the screen and declined the call in one swift motion. The flicker of hesitation in his eyes didn’t escape me. “Who was that?” I asked softly. His response came smoothly as if he’d rehearsed it a hundred times. “Just the new manager at work—doesn’t know better than to call at this hour.” Edward smiled at me, his gaze filled with the same affection that used to make my heart flutter, “Off the clock, my priority is spending time with my wife.” Once, that smile had been my world. Now, it only made me sick. When his phone screen lit up earlier, I’d glimpsed the contact’s name—”My Love”. Edward was a man of precision—his phonebook was filled with full names, formal and exact. I’d teased him countless times to change my name to something more endearing, but he’d always refused, saying it would confuse his contacts. It wasn’t that he couldn’t. I just wasn’t special enough. How many of these sweet temptations have I fallen for? The phone rang again. Edward flinched, his fingers tightening as he ended the call. His restless gaze drifted to the window, where snow had begun to fall. He was growing impatient. Amelia was waiting for him at the airport. When the phone buzzed a third time, I finally spoke. “Eddie, if it’s urgent, you should go. Don’t keep them waiting.” He froze, studying my expression carefully. When I didn’t push further, his shoulders relaxed. Grabbing a tissue, he leaned down to gently wipe the corner of my mouth. “I’ll just pop into the office. I’ll be back soon. Don’t forget to have the nanny prepare a nutritious dinner for Harper.” Such a considerate husband. Even when leaving, he remembered to care for our child. I clenched my fists, the pain grounding me. It was this meticulous care that had blinded me for ten long years, hiding the truth that was now so clear. I watched Edward leave. His hurried steps were rare. Few things ever rattled his composure. Scooping a forkful of cake into my mouth, I let the sweetness melt on my tongue. But instead of comfort, it turned bitter. It used to be my favorite bakery, but somehow, the cake tasted bitter today. Maybe it was just me—my mood must’ve changed. I sat on the couch until it got dark, the dishes on the table left untouched and cold. My phone stayed silent the whole time. I guessed Edward really was “busy”. I walked into Harper’s room and knelt by her bed, tears falling as I gazed at her peaceful face. Upstairs, I opened the drawer where I kept our documents. The marriage certificate stared back at me, the embossed date mocking me. With trembling fingers, I picked up the phone and dialed. “Hello, I’d like to file for divorce.”

That night, I slept in Harper’s room. I didn’t know what time Edward came home. All I remembered was someone tucking the blanket over me and pressing a kiss on my forehead. The heavy scent of perfume on him was suffocating, enough to make me cough in my sleep. By morning, the snow had piled high outside. Once woken, I couldn’t fall back asleep, so I sat in the living room until dawn. My head was heavy, and though Edward sliced the breakfast toast neatly, I couldn’t bring myself to eat. Looking up, I noticed a rare smile tugging at his lips. He seemed to be in an unusually good mood. Meeting my gaze, Edward spoke, “Emma, I booked the top floor of the downtown hotel for tonight.” I frowned. Hadn’t we just held an event there two days ago? Seeing my confusion, Edward explained effortlessly, “Harper’s seventh birthday is coming up. I thought we could celebrate early.” I said nothing. I had originally planned to send Harper back to my hometown today. But hearing Edward’s words, she was so thrilled I couldn’t bear to disappoint her. So, I nodded. The downtown top-floor venue required reservations far in advance. For Edward to secure it on a whim, he must have shelled out a hefty sum. But for what purpose? When we arrived at the venue, I finally understood. The massive screens displayed photo after photo of our little family, brimming with sweetness. Every guest marveled at our perfect love story, praising us as a model couple. Listening to the familiar compliments, I looked at the corner. It was Amelia. Dressed in a simple white gown, she sat quietly in the shadows. Her eyes were swollen red as if she had spent the entire night crying. A bitter smile tugged at my lips. I finally understood Edward’s intent. Two grand celebrations in quick succession, flaunting his devotion to his wife and child—It was all to provoke Amelia. Her doe-like eyes were fixed on Edward, brimming with heartbreak, making her look utterly pitiable. And yet, Edward held Harper in his arms, not sparing Amelia a single glance. Amelia’s trembling hands clutched the hem of her dress, her grief barely contained. Clearly, Edward’s plan was working. I clung to Edward’s arm, my dizziness growing. It seemed I had caught a cold after all. Tugging at his sleeve gently, I gestured to let him know I wanted to rest. Edward turned, his gaze accidentally brushing past Amelia in the corner. His broad shoulders stiffened for a fleeting moment, his calm mask slipping. But he quickly steadied himself. He gripped my hand and led me to the lounge. Seated with Harper on his lap, his eyes kept straying toward Amelia’s direction. It was only a matter of time before he lost control. I closed my eyes to rest, but it wasn’t long before the host’s voice echoed through the hall, calling for the birthday girl to cut the cake. Instinctively reaching out, I realized Edward was no longer by my side. Harper tugged at my dress, her small voice filled with curiosity. “Where’s Daddy?” I patted her head, taking her hand as we walked onto the stage. When the host asked about Edward, I simply smiled, “No need to wait. He won’t be joining us.” After cutting the cake and watching Harper run off with the other children, I felt lightheaded. The room was too stifling. Stepping out the back door into the garden, I took a deep breath, letting the cold air soothe me. But then I heard Edward’s voice. “You left me. Now you’re playing the victim—what’s the point?” A woman’s voice answered sharply, “Edward, you bastard. You promised you’d wait for me forever.” Edward laughed softly, his tone cold, “I have wealth and status, Amelia. The last thing I need is another woman. You saw tonight—I’m doing just fine without you.” There was a stunned silence, followed by a bitter laugh from Amelia. “You mean her? Emma and her daughter? Edward, be honest with yourself—do you even love them?” Silence stretched between them, heavy and unbroken. Then, without warning, Amelia stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. In the falling snow, Edward didn’t pull away. Instead, he gently wrapped his arm around her waist. They embraced like lovers, reuniting after years apart. It wasn’t until snowflakes dotted my hair that I realized I had been standing there, frozen. My hands felt so cold that they were nearly numb. Slowly, I pulled out my phone and dialed Edward’s number. The ringtone echoed for a long time before he finally picked up. “Where are you?” I asked softly. Still holding Amelia, Edward’s ears were flushed red, but his tone was flawless. “I spilled some wine on my suit and went to clean up in the changing room. Emma, stay put—I’ll come find you in a bit.” My breath misted in the cold air as I stared at their entwined silhouettes. My heart felt like it was freezing solid. “Edward,” I whispered, “turn around.”

The two of them, tightly entwined, froze in place. When Edward turned and saw me, he instinctively shoved Amelia away with force. Amelia stumbled, falling to the ground, staring up at him in disbelief. Edward staggered toward me, panic etched on his face. I ended the call and turned to leave, but he grabbed my wrist. “Emma, it’s not what it looks like,” he stammered, his voice trembling. “I wasn’t… She and I aren’t—” I lowered my gaze and cut him off softly. “No need to explain, Edward. I’m tired.” His desperate attempts to hold me back only deepened my exhaustion. I should’ve let go the moment I saw the photos. But I’d stubbornly dragged myself to this humiliating moment instead. “Behind us, Amelia sat on the ground, her voice trembling as she called out to him, “”Eddie…””” Hearing her utter that nickname awakened a long-buried memory in me. When we were newlyweds, Edward used to hold me close, nuzzling into my neck as he pleaded over and over, “Emma, call me Eddie from now on, won’t you?” I’d been too shy back then, refusing no matter how much he begged. I never understood why he adored such a childish name. At the time, I’d thought it was his special way of cherishing me. Now, I realized—it was Amelia who liked it. Edward turned to look at Amelia, still on the ground. Surprise flickered across his face before being replaced by an unmistakable tenderness. But his hand remained firmly on mine, torn between the two of us. After a moment, he gritted his teeth and faced me. “Emma, just listen to me—I can explain. It’s not what you think.” I stared at him silently. The more I stayed quiet, the more flustered he became. “Emma, don’t do this, okay? I… I can’t lose you.” The moment he said that, Amelia’s face turned ashen. I lifted my eyes to meet Edward’s evasive gaze. “Edward,” I said, my voice calm yet deliberate. “A lie repeated a thousand times—aren’t you afraid you’ll start believing it yourself?” Edward froze, the meaning of my words clearly sinking in. For a brief moment, his face was blank with confusion. I gently pushed his hand away and walked over to Amelia, helping her to her feet. She looked at me, her eyes filled with bewilderment. She was stunning in a way that was completely different from me. It wasn’t hard to see why Edward had held onto her in his heart for so many years. I took her hand and placed it in Edward’s. Looking up at him, I forced a faint smile. “Don’t make the wrong choice this time.” My chest ached, but I turned and staggered back through the rear door, leaving them behind. As soon as I stepped inside, my legs gave out, and I collapsed to the ground. That night, I burned with a high fever. Edward stayed by my bedside, silent and pensive. It seemed my words earlier had struck a nerve. He clasped my hand against his forehead, his voice trembling as he pleaded, “Emma, give me another chance, please. I can’t lose you.” I opened my eyes weakly, looking at him. It was like seeing the young man from ten years ago, kneeling on one knee, proposing to me. Back then, I’d thought life was long, and I had all the time in the world to make him love me. Looking back now, I realized I’d lost from the very start. When he noticed I was awake, Edward’s eyes widened in relief. “Emma, you’re awake! How are you feeling?” Even now, he was still keeping up his act of care and concern. He was so absorbed in his performance that he’d likely convinced even himself. I couldn’t summon the strength to lift my eyelids fully. My voice was hoarse as I replied, “Edward, I forgive you. I’m not leaving.” If he wanted to act, I’d play along until the very end. A flicker of joy flashed in his eyes, but before he could speak, his phone rang. The name on the screen was glaringly familiar. Edward glanced at me awkwardly before picking up the call. “Eddie, I hurt my foot and didn’t bring my ID. Can you come to the hospital?” Amelia’s voice was calm and unhurried, clearly unbothered by the supposed “emergency”. She had no doubt about her place in Edward’s heart. She must’ve known I was sick and needed care, yet she’d chosen to call now. It was deliberate. I didn’t even need to guess how Edward would respond. Sure enough, he shot up from his chair, his voice filled with urgency. “Emma, she just got back to the country. It’s hard for her to handle things alone. And she’s only hurt because of me. I’ll just go check on her quickly.” The excuse was flawless as if he’d completely forgotten I was lying there with a raging fever. I let out a soft “Mm,” too drained to argue. “Go ahead.” “After he left, I grabbed my phone and booked a flight for 2 p.m. the next day. Then, I asked the housekeeper to bring me the divorce papers that had arrived yesterday. Without hesitation, I signed my name in the bottom-right corner.”

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“Ms. Hayes, are you absolutely sure you want to sign up for the first wave of cryogenic preservation? Your personal records will be completely wiped; legally, you’ll cease to exist,” the technician explained. I nodded without hesitation. “I’m sure.” “Alright then. The cryo-pod is scheduled to launch into space in seven days. You’ll be brought back and thawed only when medical technology advances enough to cure your terminal illness. We’re looking at about fifty years.” The technician was jotting down my name when he suddenly froze. “Wait… Your name is Angel Hayes?” Everyone knew about Angel, the beloved wife of Lucas Shaw, Harborcrest’s wealthiest man. Ignoring his shocked expression, I gave another cool nod. “Yes. Let’s get to the signing.” After ten years of marriage to Lucas Shaw, I thought I had it all. He treated me like a queen and showered me with affection every night, but we never had children. The day I was diagnosed with a terminal illness, my perfect world shattered. I discovered he had another “family” with my sister—complete with a six-year-old son. That was when the truth came out. He’d been secretly slipping birth control into my soup every single day. All that love was just smoke and mirrors. It was time to wake up from this fairy tale. After signing those papers, there was no way he would ever find me again in this vast city. ***** I walked down the street clutching my terminal diagnosis papers while the Shaw Group’s jewelry ad glowed on the billboard overhead. “Mr. Shaw, we heard this diamond was your personal design, created to commemorate your love story with your wife. Is it true there’s only one in existence?” asked the interviewer. On screen, Lucas’ face softened with tenderness. “That’s right. I named it ‘Angel’s Heart’. It represents my wife’s name and symbolizes her unique place in my heart.” The video went viral, with everyone gushing about Lucas’ undying devotion to love. But I was the only one who knew he was lying through his teeth. I opened Twitter to see Esther Blake’s latest post. Esther: [Leon got to spend another day with Daddy at the amusement park today! The one he built just for me—I’m so blessed!] She’d posted photos of herself and her son at Moonriver, the biggest amusement park in town. There she was, beaming at the camera, wearing an Angel’s Heart ring on her finger—identical to the one on my hand. The comments were brutal. [This chick is so desperate to be Mrs. Shaw, she’s even copying the ring? Everyone knows Mr. Shaw built Moonriver for his wife, Angel. Know your place!] Esther fired back: [Angel? Please. That ring of hers is made from my leftover materials. She’s nothing.] My legs went weak. It felt like someone had their hand around my heart, squeezing until I couldn’t breathe. Esther and I were half-sisters. She kept her mom’s last name, Blake. She’d only returned to the Hayes family five years ago, bringing along her eighteen-month-old son. If I hadn’t stumbled across her account a week ago, I never would have figured it out. That mysterious father of her son was actually my husband. The winter wind cut through me like a knife, but it was nothing compared to the ice in my heart. Lucas… who was the real woman in your heart—me, or my sister Esther? When I got home, there was a small strawberry cake sitting on the table. Lucas was in the kitchen wearing an apron and cooking dinner. He smiled when he saw me come in. “Heard the girls at the office talking about this place, so I grabbed you a slice too.” After ten years of marriage, he still tried to keep the romance alive, just like when we first started dating. I stared at the slightly stale piece of cake, fighting back the bitter feeling rising in my chest. In Esther’s lovey-dovey post yesterday, there was a whole gorgeous cake. Her caption read: [Our kid is already six, but hubby still knows how to make things special. Though this cake is way too big, I can’t possibly finish it!] Even with the heat cranked up all the way, I couldn’t shake the chill that had settled into my bones. Lucas came out with the soup, looking worried, when he noticed I hadn’t touched the cake. “Angel, you feeling okay?” He carefully blew on a spoonful of soup before holding it up to my lips. “You must’ve gotten so cold on your way back. I really should’ve picked you up, but work was crazy today.” There was a cutesy pin on his collar—obviously a freebie from the amusement park. My heart clenched painfully at the sight. Looking at the bowl of soup laced with birth control, I lowered my eyes, my voice trembling. “Lucas, do I really have to drink this?” Lucas’ expression flickered with surprise, but he shut me down without missing a beat. “Of course you do. You’re not exactly in top shape. This will help get your body back on track.” He placed his hand on my flat stomach, his voice going soft. “Come on, baby. Don’t we both want a little one of our own?” I bit my lip hard. Anyone hearing this would think Lucas was the perfect, doting husband. I used to believe it, too. I thought all his running around getting me medicine was actually about improving my health. I clutched the medical report tighter in my hand as I swallowed the soup. Lucas finally looked satisfied. When his phone rang, he caught the caller ID and shot me a quick, shifty glance. “Work call. Gotta take this. Make sure you finish your medicine, okay?” He rushed to the balcony, but the glass door didn’t quite shut. His voice drifted back through the gap. “How many times do I have to tell you not to call when Angel’s home!” He paused for a beat before continuing, “Stop being so needy. I spent the last two nights at your place. Wasn’t that enough? “Fine, fine. I’ll definitely make it to Leon’s parent-child activity tomorrow.” I looked down at the poorly crafted ring on my finger and slowly pulled it off. Then, I dumped every last drop of that soup in the trash… along with any love I had left for him.

The next morning, I got a call from the hospital. “Ms. Hayes, you need to start chemotherapy as soon as possible. We can’t delay treatment any longer. Should we notify Mr. Shaw?” “No need,” I replied flatly. “I’m choosing to stop treatment. Don’t tell Lucas anything.” After hanging up, I checked my phone and saw Lucas’ message from a few hours ago: [Headed to work. Don’t forget breakfast. I’m getting off early tonight to celebrate your birthday with you.] My eyes darkened. Lucas could say whatever he wanted, but Esther’s Twitter was already flooded with photos of him at some parent-child event. Dinner time had come and gone. The food on the table was stone cold by the time Lucas finally showed up. And, of course, Esther was right behind him, carrying Leon. “Esther said it was your birthday and wanted to celebrate with you. Since we’re all family, I figured I’d bring her along.” I just stared at him silently. Back then, he used to hate having anyone else around on my birthday. He’d always wanted it to be just the two of us. But I guess after spending so much time in someone else’s arms, he couldn’t even be bothered to pretend anymore. Noticing my mood, Lucas began, “Angel…” Before he could finish, Leon squirmed out of Esther’s arms and kicked over the potted plant beside him. The potted plant shattered across the floor, dirt and broken pieces scattering everywhere. He stuck his tongue out at me with a nasty smirk. “You old hag! That’s what you get for trying to steal my daddy!” “What are you talking about?” I snapped, my voice cold. Leon’s face crumpled as he burst into loud, dramatic sobs. Esther quickly scooped him up, giving me a wounded look. “Angel, he’s just a little kid. He doesn’t know any better. Please don’t be mad. I’ll apologize to him!” She started to drop to her knees, but Lucas grabbed her arm to stop her, his brows furrowed. “Angel, come on. It’s just a plant. I’ll buy you a new one, okay? Don’t be so hard on a kid.” Was it just a plant? I stared at him in disbelief. He knew exactly what that plant meant to me. My mom had entrusted it to me on her deathbed. For ten years, I’d carefully tended to it, keeping a piece of her alive with me. “Whatever,” I said, my voice going flat. As I turned to head back to my room, I caught a flicker of panic across Lucas’ face. But he didn’t follow me. I let out a bitter laugh. What else was there to understand? Esther slipped in front of me, deliberately tugging her collar aside to reveal the trail of hickeys across her skin. “You know why Lucas missed your birthday today? He was at my son’s parent-child event instead. Still think you’re the one he loves most?” Looking at her smug face made my blood boil. “Esther, I’m not interested in your nonsense,” I said. I tried to move past her into the house, but she grabbed my wrist. “Leon is mine and Lucas’ child. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get out of this place right now.” My wrist hurt from her grip, but I kept my face blank. “You should tell that to Lucas. The moment he asks for a divorce, I’ll be happy to let you two be together.” Esther’s face darkened. “You’re such a pathetic woman, desperately clinging to a man who doesn’t even love you,” she hissed. “So what if you’re his wife? Leon will be his only child forever. Any baby you try to have will die if I don’t want it to exist.” She leaned in close to my ear, her voice chilling. “You want to know what really happened to your baby? Lucas gave you those pills because I told him to.” Her words hit me like a thunderbolt, making my head spin. I’d suspected she was behind the birth control pills, but I never imagined Lucas would actually kill our baby for her. Five years ago, I lost my four-month-old pregnancy without warning. I cried for days, blaming myself for not taking better care of the baby. Lucas seemed so heartbroken then. He stayed by my side constantly, taking me on trips to help me heal. But now I knew the truth—it was all just guilt. My chest felt unbearably tight like someone was squeezing my heart in a death grip. Before I could even process what was happening, Esther grabbed my hand and used it to slap herself hard across the face. Then, she burst into dramatic sobs. “Angel, please don’t hit me! I’m sorry, I was wrong!” Lucas came running into the room. When he saw the red mark on Esther’s face, he shot me an icy glare. “Angel Hayes, when did you become so petty? She’s your own sister!” He didn’t even give me a chance to explain. He just wrapped his arm around Esther and walked out without looking back. As they left, Esther turned her head to give me one last look—a mix of triumph and mockery in her eyes. I tasted iron in my throat and then violently coughed up blood before everything went black.

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself lying in the research facility. “Ms. Hayes, we were trying to reach you for your pre-freezing checkup. When our staff couldn’t contact you and found you unconscious at home, we took the liberty of bringing you back here.” It was ironic. On my birthday, my husband of ten years left me for dead. Yet here I was, saved by a research facility I was only connected to through a piece of paper. “Ms. Hayes, your condition is critical. We’ll need to start the cryogenic process sooner than planned.” I realized I had breathing tubes in my nose and bandages wrapped around my hands. Closing my eyes briefly, I asked in a raspy voice, “How long do I have?” “One day left.” “I have unfinished business.” I pulled off the breathing mask and got out of bed, ignoring the searing pain in my organs. “I’ll be back tomorrow night, on time.” The staff exchanged glances before nodding sympathetically. “Going to say goodbye to Mr. Shaw? You must still care about him.” “No.” My voice turned ice cold. “I’m going to divorce him.” Even if I was about to leave, I didn’t want my future life to have any connection to Lucas. I hailed a cab, and when my phone screen lit up, I realized I’d been out cold for two whole days. The real kicker was that Lucas hadn’t sent me a single message. Meanwhile, Esther was living it up on social media. One day, it was a fancy restaurant. The next it was some luxury hotel. I ignored all the notifications and headed to the law office, where they told me the divorce papers wouldn’t be ready until tomorrow. When I got home, Lucas was waiting to tear into me, just like I knew he would. “Where have you been for the past two days? You couldn’t even reply to messages? Was it really that hard to just apologize to Esther?” I just stared at him, saying nothing. I’d been MIA for two days, and instead of worrying about my safety, his first words were about Esther. After ten years of marriage, I’d never felt like I was looking at a stranger until now. He glanced down, finally noticing my pale face and the bandages wrapped around my hand. Lucas’ expression flickered. “What happened to you?” I made up some excuse. “Got dizzy from low blood sugar that night, took a fall.” Guilt flashed across his face, and his tone finally softened. “Why didn’t you tell me?” “Not necessary,” I said flatly. Lucas’ shoulders tensed up, but I just walked past him into the house. While searching through my room for the documents needed for tomorrow night’s cryogenic process, my eyes landed on a small box sitting on the nightstand. Inside was a necklace—Lucas’ wedding gift to me. He’d bought the naming rights to a star and had a gemstone custom-made to match its shape, meant to be our symbol of love. The memory made me space out for a moment. When they sent me up into space, I guessed that star would be my only companion. But as I picked up the box, something felt off. The weight was wrong. Opening it confirmed my suspicions—the necklace was gone. My heart went cold. It was here just days ago. There was no way it just disappeared while I was away. This wasn’t some random coincidence. Right then, Lucas knocked on the door. “Made you some soup. Come have it while it’s hot.” His expression softened when he saw me holding the box, and he moved to wrap his arms around me. I pressed my lips together and tossed the empty box onto the bed. The hollow sound made Lucas freeze. “It’s okay, Angel,” he said weakly. “I’ll get you another necklace in a few days.” I felt nothing but disgust. Pushing him away, I walked straight to the living room. Ignoring the steaming soup on the table, I grabbed some random pastries from the fridge to fill my stomach. Lucas lingered behind me, obviously wanting to say something but holding back. Then came a knock at the door. He changed course to answer it, but the moment he opened the door, he slammed it shut just as quickly, like he was trying to hide something. I pulled up my phone and checked the video doorbell feed. Sure enough, there was Esther’s face on the screen, wearing that necklace around her neck. My eyes narrowed. “I told you to stop messing with Angel’s stuff. Give that necklace back right now!” Lucas hissed. “We’ve already hooked up in her bed. Why are you getting worked up over some cheap necklace?” “Keep your voice down! What if Angel hears you?” “Wouldn’t that make it even more exciting? Hey Lucas, wanna see what I’m wearing underneath?” She let her strap fall, revealing lingerie underneath as she leaned in close to Lucas’ ear, her breath hot against his skin. Lucas’ serious expression melted away instantly. He grabbed her waist hard and kissed her. The room started spinning around me, my insides twisting with pain. But nothing could compare to the ache in my heart. I stumbled to my study and locked the door behind me, covering my ears to block out everything happening outside.   When I woke up, it was already past noon. My head felt foggy, and I could barely breathe—my condition was getting worse. The research facility wasn’t lying—my time really is running out. Lucas made me breakfast himself, probably feeling guilty after finding my room empty last night and the study door locked. He made me some oatmeal and asked, “Haven’t you been sleeping well lately? It’s not like you to sleep in this late.” My throat felt like rusty metal as I croaked out. “It’s nothing, just having some trouble sleeping.” Lucas nodded. “I’ll get you some medicine tonight.” I stayed quiet, but he kept going, his voice careful and testing the waters. “Something urgent came up at work yesterday. That’s why I got back so late.” When I didn’t react, Lucas let out a tiny breath of relief. My stomach was still in knots, so I only managed a couple of sips before trying to get up. That was when he spoke again. “Angel, I cleared my schedule today. Want to go for a drive around town?” I looked up at him, memories flooding back. Harborcrest’s weather was perfect year-round, and back when we were dating, Lucas and I loved nothing more than cruising around the city together. I was about to shake my head, but he’d already grabbed his jacket and was pulling me toward the underground parking garage, not taking no for an answer. Whatever, I might as well take one last look at the city before I go. Lucas held my hand tight as he helped me into the passenger seat, leaning down to carefully buckle my seatbelt. To anyone watching, he’d look like the perfect, attentive husband. But then I glanced down and spotted a bright red lipstick on the seat cushion. Lucas’ face went pale for a second as he quickly snatched it up and tossed it aside. “Must be Esther’s from when I drove her to the hospital the other day. I’ll have her pick it up later.” I didn’t bother arguing. I just rolled down the window to let the breeze hit my face, which actually made me feel a bit better. As the sun dipped below the horizon, Lucas pushed two gift boxes toward me. “I found the necklace, and the other box is to make up for your birthday gift.” When I didn’t move, he tilted his chin. “Want to open them?” I let out a sigh, ignoring the box with the necklace and casually opening Lucas’ gift instead. Inside lay an exquisite emerald pendant, small and delicate. It was beautiful. I might have actually loved it if I hadn’t seen the exact same one hanging around Leon’s neck before. The fact he’d give such an inappropriate gift made it obvious who put him up to this. I picked up the emerald pendant, feeling its substantial weight in my hand. This definitely wasn’t cheap. His brow relaxed at this sight. “I’m glad you like it, Angel. We’ll definitely have an adorable baby together someday.” Before he could finish speaking, I raised my hand and hurled the pendant out the window. A truck roared past, crushing it to dust. Lucas’ face turned ashen. “What are you doing?” “I don’t like secondhand things,” I said coldly. And I wasn’t just talking about the pendant. Lucas caught my meaning, instantly becoming flustered. “Angel, there must be some misunderstanding.” “What misunderstanding?” I scoffed. “Lucas, you know exactly how disgusting your actions are.” Lucas pressed his lips together. “Angel, let me explain.” His phone suddenly rang, cutting him off. It was Esther. “Lucas, Leon got food poisoning. He’s throwing up everywhere. You need to take him to the hospital right now!” The woman’s voice on the other end was frantic, almost crying. Lucas’ expression changed instantly as he pulled over to the side of the road. “Angel, take a cab home. I’ll explain everything when I get back tonight.” He rushed out those words before speeding away. Night had completely fallen. I looked up at the sky and let out a bitter laugh. If he’d just driven a little further, he would’ve seen I was heading to the law firm. I picked up the divorce papers alone, signed them, and left them on the table. After forwarding Esther’s Twitter profile to Lucas, I hopped on the cab to the research facility.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “397587”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #Space #Divorce #Hurt #Rejected #Cancer #Revenge #Drama

“Ms. Chase, are you sure you want to erase all traces of yourself in the country? Once erased, neither your friends here nor Mr. Whitman will be able to find you,” a young man said respectfully. Yvonne Chase fell silent for a moment before nodding softly, responding with her habitual gesture, “Yeah, I’m sure. Just do it.” As her hand fell, she remembered that she had regained her hearing just that day. After suffering a high fever as a child that left her deaf, Yvonne had spent years undergoing treatment. Just yesterday, she had undergone her final surgery, and now her hearing was back, and she could speak in broken phrases. “Alright, Ms. Chase. It’ll take about a week to handle everything. Please be patient.” “Okay, I want a car ready at the back door at 1 AM, seven days from now,” she instructed. “Understood.” “Tell my grandfather I agree to the marriage with the Kingsley family. I’ll get married as soon as I get home,” Yvonne spoke slowly, her voice soft. Despite her upbeat tone, there was a heaviness in the air that made it feel far from cheerful. The young man hesitated. “Ms. Chase…” “Just do it.” “Understood.” The live stream on her phone continued to roll. Carl sat in front of the camera, dressed impeccably in a suit. “The Whitman Group’s suburban amusement park project, Yvonne’s Evergreen Wonderland, is officially underway.” “Yvonne’s Evergreen Wonderland covers an area twice the size of Cloudia City’s Disneyland. It features not only entertainment options for the general public but also includes activities designed for people with disabilities, all supported by top-tier facilities developed by leading teams.” “Yvonne’s Evergreen Wonderland is specifically designed for the hearing impaired. This is my engagement gift to my fiancée, Yvonne Chase.” Flashes from cameras lit up the room. Everyone watching the livestream, men and women alike, burned with jealousy. Yvonne Chase had it all. “Mr. Whitman and Ms. Chase truly embody a fairy-tale romance.” “I heard Ms. Chase is hearing impaired, and the Whitman family disapproved of the marriage, but Mr. Whitman insisted. He even gave up his inheritance to strike out on his own.” “Mr. Whitman’s love is truly inspiring.” “Absolutely! Congratulations to Mr. Whitman on his engagement!” “Thank you for your well wishes.” Carl caught the gaze of a female reporter in the front row, standing up as he did. The smile on the reporter’s face deepened a bit. Yvonne watched as the camera froze on Carl’s face, a face that had once captivated her. But she then took off the engagement ring and tossed it into a gift box. Pulling out her phone, she snapped a picture of the box and sent it to Carl. She typed: [This is a gift for you—our seventeen-year anniversary.] Carl replied instantly: [Yvonne, you’re the best! I’ll check it as soon as I get home.] [Nope, you have to wait until the anniversary day, seven days from now!!!!] Yvonne added a flurry of exclamation marks. [Okay, I’ll do as you say. I’ll wait to open it in seven days.] The seventeenth anniversary was a day they had long anticipated, the day they planned to get their marriage license. Carl had dreamed of this moment, and to convince his mother, he had camped out in front of Whitman Manor for an entire day and night, falling ill with a fever before his mother finally relented. Yvonne set her phone down and turned to look at the gifts piled on her floor-to-ceiling cabinet. There were a thousand origami cranes Carl had folded for her, a childhood teddy bear, raw gemstones he had mined himself, and millions of dollars worth of jewelry. In the center was Carl’s ID. Yvonne was the kind of person who took her time to warm up to things; she didn’t really believe in slow-burning love stories. Her parents had once been an enviable couple, marrying out of love. But things took a dark turn when her father plotted against her mother for the sake of his mistress. In a fit of rage, her mother struck back, leading to a tragic end. Ultimately, her mother died in prison, and on her deathbed, she told Yvonne, “Sweetheart, the most untrustworthy beings in this world are men.” After her parents’ deaths, Yvonne was sent to live with her father’s friend, Oliver Whitman, during a time when her grandfather’s power was shaky. It was there that she met Carl, Oliver’s only son. For a long time, Yvonne believed she would never trust in love. The trauma of her parents’ relationship, combined with her disabilities, made her reluctant to engage with the outside world. But Carl offered her so much, showering her with love and attention. After a particularly tough period in her childhood, where she struggled with her health and could barely keep food down, Carl dedicated himself to helping her regain her strength. He sought out an elderly doctor and learned the art of medicinal cuisine, mastering 108 recipes over the course of a year. His hands were calloused from the effort, but he became a master in the kitchen, preparing a different dish for Yvonne each day. In response to Yvonne’s wish to have her name written in the highest place near heaven, Carl, who had a fear of heights, signed up for a global extreme challenge. It was a live-streamed event where participants had to complete twelve extreme sports to finish the challenge. Those who succeeded would have the chance to choose a piece of ancient fossil on an island closest to the sun and carve their names alongside their loved ones. Carl persevered through the grueling competition, even facing his fear of heights to complete a bungee jump. As he leaped into the void, he shouted with all his might, “Yvonne, I love you!” His passionate declaration resonated with countless viewers around the world. In the end, he etched their names into the fossil, solidifying their bond in a way that felt almost eternal. Yvonne’s heart finally stirred with emotion. At twenty-one, she agreed to be with Carl, and now, at twenty-four, she remembered the day they held hands for the first time, tears streaming down Carl’s face as he said, “Holding your hand means a lifetime together.” A lifetime. That was a word Yvonne had never dared to think about. Yet her mother had been right. She mused, “Why is love in this world so fragile?” A single tear slipped down her cheek. Yvonne quickly wiped it away. Yesterday, when her hearing finally came back, she rushed to find Carl – only to discover his dirty little secret: he had taken a young intern reporter under his wing. Today, Yvonne had someone dig up all the information on the intern reporter. Felicity Simons, gorgeous and ambitious, shamelessly threw herself at Carl every chance she got. After fourteen years of companionship and three years of romance, they were about to get married. And this was what she got instead. It was all so absurd.

As dusk fell, Carl stepped through the door. Yvonne lay draped on the sofa, her demeanor languid and tired. Carl strode over to her; concern etched on his face. “What’s wrong, Yvonne? Are you feeling unwell?” Yvonne could read his lips. She shook her head, lifting her hands to sign. She didn’t want him to know she could hear now. At that moment, Carl’s phone rang abruptly. He glanced at the screen, a smirk creeping onto his face. “Just a second, I need to take this call.” He answered, turning slightly away from Yvonne. Without her focus on his lips, he thought Yvonne couldn’t decipher what he was saying. “Mr. Whitman?” a sultry voice chimed from the other end, dripping with sweetness, enough to melt anyone’s resolve. Carl tugged at his tie. “What’s the matter? Didn’t you have enough?” Yvonne felt a shiver run through her. Her fists clenched at her sides to keep the tears at bay. She fixed her gaze on the side of Carl’s face, noting the smug expression he wore as if he were imagining something delightfully improper. She saw his Adam’s apple bob slightly. “Yeah, Mr. Whitman. I’m waiting in your car downstairs, wearing that outfit you said you liked… Want to join me?” The woman’s laughter was teasing. Carl muttered under his breath, “Just wait, you vixen.” He shot up, turning to find Yvonne’s eyes, which were now glistening with suppressed emotion. He tried to soften his tone. “What’s wrong, Yvonne? Are you really not feeling well?” Yvonne lifted her hand and slowly signed. “Just a little stomachache.” “I’ll get you something for that.” Carl hurried to the medicine cabinet, taking two stomach tablets and gently placing them in her palm. “Take these first,” he urged softly, pouring her a glass of warm water. As Carl watched her take the medication, he rested his hand carefully on her stomach, his expression tender, as if he were caring for the most precious treasure. Noticing Yvonne’s demeanor easing, Carl carefully lifted her and set her down on the bed. “Get some rest. I’ll make you some soothing soup, and you can have it when you wake up.” Yvonne nodded obediently, curling up beside him like a cat—graceful and sweet. Carl adored her in this state. He leaned down and planted a gentle kiss on her lips, his eyes brimming with affection. Yvonne closed her eyes as Carl quietly slipped away. He headed to the kitchen to prepare the ingredients for the soup, then made his way to the underground parking garage. Yvonne, roused by a sense of urgency, switched on the garage’s surveillance monitor. In the footage, Carl arrived, and Yvonne saw Felicity standing there, her attire barely concealing her figure. The moment she laid eyes on Carl, she giggled flirtatiously. “Mr. Whitman! What took you so long?” Carl wasted no time rushing toward her and pushing her into the car. “Yvonne’s not feeling well, and I need to take care of her before I do anything else.” “Oh, Mr. Whitman, you… you’re so good to that… little mute.” Felicity’s words dripped with mockery as they spilled out. “She’s my wife. If I don’t take care of her, should I take care of you, you little tramp?” Carl snapped, his movement harsh, betraying no concern for Felicity’s feelings. He loved Yvonne, but he also craved the wild abandon that came from his sex with women like Felicity. Yvonne was exquisite, and he wanted to keep her purity for their wedding night; to him, Felicity was nothing more than an outlet for his desires. The car shook violently, the motion intense and prolonged. The surveillance feed was silent, leaving Yvonne unaware of Carl’s words. But she clearly saw the man who had promised her the world, passionately lost with another woman in the garage. What did his promises mean now? What did her own feelings mean in the face of this betrayal? Yvonne suddenly burst into laughter, a sound tinged with bitter tears. She cried for her unreciprocated love, for the heart she had laid bare before him. She wept over the hard-won peace she had finally found after her parents’ tragic deaths. She cried for her broken heart. Yvonne gasped for breath, her body curled on the floor. Just before slipping into darkness, a primal instinct drove her to dial Carl’s number. The phone rang, and it didn’t take long for someone to pick up. In the haze of unconsciousness, she heard the mingling of a man’s and a woman’s heavy groan. Carl asked, “What are you doing answering my call?” Felicity’s voice chimed through the line, playful and teasing. “Oh, Mr. Whitman, why be afraid? She can’t hear us. Isn’t this a little exciting?” Carl’s low groans blended with the sound of bodies colliding, and the reality of betrayal crashed over Yvonne like a wave.

When Yvonne finally regained consciousness, the first thing she saw was Carl’s anxious gaze. “Yvonne, I’m so sorry. We need to get you to the hospital,” he said, reaching out to scoop her up in his arms. Yvonne gently pushed him away, shaking her head. “You fainted! We’re going to the hospital, okay?” Carl insisted, his voice laced with urgency. Yvonne mused, “Yeah, I’ve fainted while you were busy enjoying yourself with Felicity in the car.” “What a buzzkill I am?” With great effort, Yvonne struggled to sit up, continuing to shake her head. Carl reached out again, but she dodged his grasp. “Yvonne, what’s going on?” Carl asked, panic rising in his chest as if he were about to lose something incredibly precious. A dull ache throbbed in Yvonne’s heart. She slowly signed, “I’m fine; I just didn’t eat lunch.” “Why didn’t you have lunch? The soup will be ready soon. Just have a little something while I finish the meal,” Carl said patiently, heading toward the kitchen. He still cared for her, still worried about her well-being. But the clear hickeys on his neck and the smudged lipstick on his disheveled shirt were a cruel reminder. It was as if they were mocking her, “Yvonne, look at what you thought love would be. This is the man you love.” Yvonne took out her tablet. She was a comic artist, and when she was with Carl, she used the pen name Joyvonne to create a serialized comic. The comic captured their daily lives, filled with tender and romantic details, showcasing her artistic talent and winning the hearts of many fans. She typed out an announcement: [The final chapter drops 1 AM next week. After that, the series ends for good.] The news sent shockwaves through the comic community. [Is Joyvonne retiring to get married?] [Of course! Even I, a skeptic of love, have started to believe.] [Though I’m sad, I wish Joyvonne all the best.] [Can’t we get a post-wedding series?] [Please, we want a post-wedding story!] [Pretty please!] Reading through the comments, Yvonne felt a wry smile creep onto her face. The fairytale romance she had envisioned was far from reality. In the end, lies only brought decay and pain. “Yvonne, why are you stopping the comic?” Carl asked, returning with the meal just as he noticed the announcement. When she started the series, Yvonne had told Carl it was a reflection of their love. The moment their love faded, so would her art. “Just want to change the theme,” she signed, looking up at Carl as she gestured. Carl’s heart slowly settled. He thought, “What was I just thinking? How could Yvonne ever find out about my affair? She hardly leaves the villa; when she does, it’s always with friends I’ve arranged for her. She doesn’t see the world beyond me.” “True, we’re engaged now. It’s time to think about a post-wedding series,” Carl said, wrapping his arms around Yvonne’s soft body. He swallowed hard, longing for her body. But they both felt it was right to save their complete surrender for their perfect wedding night. Carl had been holding back for a long time, so when Felicity made her bold move, he couldn’t resist and fell for her. He reasoned with himself that he was just a normal wealthy man; sleeping with a few women wasn’t a big deal. After they were married, he would only be with Yvonne, cleaning up any messes outside. This time before the wedding was just a bit of indulgence. Thinking of Felicity’s alluring figure made his palms sweat. “Yvonne, I want to…”

Yvonne gazed at Carl with clear, innocent eyes. Carl swallowed hard; the words he wanted to say caught in his throat. “Maybe you should eat something first,” he finally said. Yvonne nodded and followed him to the dining room. She took small bites of her meal while Carl’s phone buzzed with an incoming call. He glanced at the screen, irritation flickering across his face before he abruptly hung up. The phone rang again. “Laird and Aiden want me to join them for drinks,” Carl said with a half-hearted smile, but he answered the call. Carl looked at Yvonne, his smile softening as he said into the phone, “No, I’m not going. Yvonne isn’t feeling well, and I’m staying home with her.” “Carl, come on! Felicity’s here, too.” Carl’s expression darkened. “I said no! If you call me again tonight, we’re done.” He hung up, frustration evident on his face. Yvonne watched him, her eyes clear and innocent. Feeling a bit guilty, Carl rubbed his nose. “I’m not going anywhere. You finish eating, and I’ll stay here and watch you sleep.” Yvonne nodded, finishing her meal. Though they lived together in the same villa, they hadn’t crossed that line yet. It was Yvonne’s choice, her way of maintaining a sense of security. At that moment, Yvonne felt a wave of relief wash over her. Thank goodness she hadn’t given everything to Carl; otherwise, she would be in a much worse position right now. Yvonne closed her eyes, her breathing steady. Thinking she had fallen asleep, Carl quietly rose, tucked her in, and turned to leave. Soon, the sound of the car engine echoed in the driveway. She knew he was off to find Felicity again. Yvonne got up, changed into a pair of understated workout clothes, and headed downstairs to follow him. She was aware she was seeking out pain, but she needed to see for herself. What were those people around him really like behind closed doors? Inside the opulent private room, the atmosphere was electric. Men and women were reveling, laughter and shouts filling the air. Clothes were strewn everywhere, a chaotic scene of indulgence. As Carl entered, he spotted Felicity, who had just taken a sip of red wine. Her shoulders were revealed, and Carl’s marks were still visible on her delicate skin, glowing enticingly under the lights. Felicity sauntered over and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Carl pushed her away slightly, but her lips landed on his neck, leaving a sultry red mark on both of them. “Ooh!” The crowd erupted, their excitement reaching a fever pitch. “Carl, you’re a stud! You didn’t even kiss her, and Felicity’s already weak in the knees!” “Who can blame her?” “Carl, Carl, you’re the man!” Carl’s hand roamed around Felicity’s waist as he pulled her into the center of the sofa. “Felicity, no kissing on the lips. I’m serious; I only kiss Yvonne. You’re not worthy,” he said firmly. Felicity’s face flickered with embarrassment, but she quickly regained her composure, straddling his lap with a coy smile. “Mr. Whitman, I get it. I won’t do it again. Can I have that article about the movie star?” “Sure,” Carl replied, giving her a playful pat. Felicity let out a soft sigh. “Hey, Carl, who’s hotter? Felicity or Yvonne?” someone shouted from the crowd. “Felicity can’t hold a candle to my Yvonne,” Carl snapped, his demeanor shifting instantly. He grabbed a nearby glass and smashed it over the man’s head. Felicity was knocked over in the chaos. The room fell silent. The man quickly apologized, slapping himself in the face, “Sorry, Carl! I messed up. I shouldn’t have said that.” “I warned you—if any of this nonsense gets back to Yvonne, you’ll all be in deep trouble!” Carl lost interest, pushing away Felicity, who was trying to cling to his leg. “And you, don’t even think about it. If you do, you won’t have a whole corpse left.” With that, Carl strode out of the room.

After Carl left, it was a while before anyone in the room dared to speak. “Laird, you’ve got some nerve comparing Yvonne to that kind of woman,” one of the guests muttered. Felicity felt her face flush with embarrassment. She thought, “I graduated from a prestigious university. I have a respectable job. I’m just using my looks to secure a few resources—how did that make me ‘that kind of woman’? It’s as if they see me as nothing but a prostitute.” “Right? You begged Carl for that project, and it was Yvonne who helped you get the contract,” another chimed in. “Ha! And you’re all accusing me? Carl is out chasing women behind Yvonne’s back. Have any of you ever spilled the beans?!” Laird shot back, clearly agitated from their barrage. “We’re only trying to protect Yvonne. She’s such a naive girl; what would she do if she knew about all this dirty business?” someone argued. “She’s just a beautiful mute girl. Without Carl, who knows what would happen to her?” “Look, Yvonne depends on Carl. We’re keeping things from her for her own good. Better she stays in her fairy tale than face this nightmare,” another voice added. “Exactly! She’s living happily in her castle, provided by Carl. It’s better that way.” “Come on, Carl can play around. When he’s done, he can just toss those women away.” Feeling unsettled, Felicity stood up, adjusting her clothes as she swiftly made her way out of the room to catch up with Carl. She mused, “I can give him the thrill Yvonne doesn’t. I know he’s not done with me yet. Those people inside? Just a bunch of hypocrites!” “They act like they care for Yvonne, but they’re the ones stabbing her in the back!” A fierce glint sparkled in Felicity’s eyes. “I will make sure Carl can’t live without me. I’m up for anything he desires, no limits.” “I’m way more fun than that little mute.” “I’ll push Yvonne out of the picture; I’ll become Mrs. Whitman in all her glory, and those snobs will rue the day they underestimated me!” “Once I’m done, I’ll make sure that little mute ends up at some club. With her face and history with Carl, she’ll have a prime market!” Felicity spotted Carl up ahead and quickened her pace to catch him. Meanwhile, the room began to empty out quickly. Once everyone left, Yvonne emerged from the adjacent room. She heard every last word. She thought, “How ironic. To them, Carl’s love is rare when he’s the kind of man who plays around but still comes home. They all lied to me, but it’s for my own good?” “Ugh, that’s revolting.” Yvonne drove aimlessly, eventually stopping at a mountaintop campsite. She sat in her car, staring into the inky darkness of the night sky as hints of dawn began to creep in. Gradually, the horizon unfolded, revealing a sliver of light that expanded until the whole sky radiated with brightness. It felt symbolic, like her own life. After enduring the darkness of night, the dawn would inevitably arrive. In six days, she would be free. Setting a countdown alarm on her phone, Yvonne leaned back in her seat and drifted off to sleep. Despite the cramped space of the car, she found comfort in the moment. At two in the afternoon, her phone vibrated, rousing her from slumber. It was a message from Carl. [Yvonne? Not at home?] [Yvonne, where are you?] [I’m coming to get you.] Yvonne stared at the screen, the concern in his words feeling bitterly ironic. After leaving last night, he hadn’t come home at all—he must have been found by Felicity, and who knew what else they’d been up to? With a sharp pain in her chest, Yvonne squeezed her eyes shut, a single tear cascading down her cheek. She wiped it fiercely, vowing that this would be her last tear for him. She typed a reply: [Just decided to check out the Central Mall, no need to pick me up.] She wanted to buy a couple of clothes for herself. Everything in her closet was handpicked by Carl, and she wasn’t taking any of it with her. Carl texted back: [I’ll come find you.] Knowing she could refuse him no longer, Yvonne chose not to reply. Instead, she drove toward the mall. As she stepped out of the car and took a few steps, she collided right into Felicity.

“Ouch, I’m so sorry.” Felicity smiled as she spoke, her sultry eyes gleaming with delight as they locked onto Yvonne’s. Yvonne waved her hand dismissively, not wanting to engage. Yet Felicity blocked her path, leaning in slightly, her voice dripping with sweetness. “Miss, you’re awfully quiet. Have you forgiven me already?” “I just found out I’m pregnant and was rushing to find my husband when I bumped into you. Please don’t take it the wrong way.” Yvonne regarded her with a cool expression, managing a faint smile. It was striking, a perfect blend of beauty and aloofness. In stark contrast, Felicity exuded a vulgar, jaded aura. “Yvonne, do you know whose child I’m carrying?” Felicity’s tone turned provocative. “Felicity, are you asking for trouble?” Carl’s icy voice cut through the tension. Felicity immediately shifted to a pitiful demeanor, her eyes wide and pleading. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Whitman! I accidentally bumped into Ms. Chase on my way down; I didn’t mean…” Carl shoved Felicity aside, sending her crashing to the floor, her face paling in shock. Yvonne grabbed Carl’s arm and signed, “I’m okay. She claimed she’s pregnant and asked if I knew who the father was. I don’t know her. Do you?” Carl’s face drained of color for a moment, but he quickly regained composure. “I don’t know her either. She looks like a total nutcase. Just ignore her; I’ll get a bodyguard to handle this.” He studied Yvonne closely, relieved to see her surprise was just that—surprise, nothing more. His heart settled a little. “Yvonne, Don’t let her get to you. Come on, let’s go buy you some clothes,” Carl said, wrapping an arm around her as they moved away. Felicity scrambled to her feet, desperation evident. “Mr. Whitman, I’m pregnant with your child!” Carl pressed the elevator button without breaking stride, not even glancing back. “Mr. Whitman…” Felicity called after him, her voice rising in pitch. He didn’t respond; his focus remained solely on Yvonne. Yet Yvonne could sense Carl’s restrained anger and frustration. While shopping, Carl’s phone buzzed with an incoming message. He glanced down, and a series of images filled the screen. His breath hitched, eyes burning with desire, just as Yvonne exited the fitting room. “I think I’ll try on this menswear,” Carl said, striding toward the farthest fitting room with purpose. Yvonne handed her chosen outfits to the sales associate, ready to check out. She was aware of Carl’s preference for tailored suits, and she knew what he was likely doing in there. It was impossible not to notice Felicity had entered. In the fitting room, Felicity knelt on the floor, watching as Carl’s demeanor flipped from collected to volatile, and triumph surged through her. She mused, “No matter what it takes, he’s pulled away from Yvonne.” “That’s the first step. A plain, voiceless girl like her can’t compete with me.” After a tense moment, Carl shoved Felicity against the cold wall, his expression fierce. “I’ll see you tonight, you little tramp.” Felicity’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “Mr. Whitman, I’m carrying your baby…” “Not for long,” Carl said. “Mr. Whitman, don’t you want to see what it’s like to sleep with a pregnant woman? I’ve heard it can be quite…” Felicity leaned in closer, whispering suggestively in his ear. Carl’s eyes flickered with interest. “You’re not worried about your health. That’s your choice. I don’t care; I’ll make sure you get plenty of cash.” A chill crept down Felicity’s spine. It took her a moment to grasp how he felt. Carl had no intention of claiming her child—no, he simply wanted to play with her. And then she would have to terminate the pregnancy. Felicity felt uneasy at Carl’s cold yet calculated response. When Carl finally re-emerged to join Yvonne, he was back to being the gentle, refined man she loved.

As night fell, Carl quietly slipped out after making sure Yvonne was sound asleep. She slept peacefully, undisturbed until morning. When Yvonne finally woke up, she found breakfast waiting for her. But it wasn’t Carl who had cooked; he had ordered it. “Sorry for the late start. I had someone bring breakfast for you,” Carl said softly, his gaze warm as he looked at her. Yvonne nodded, appreciating the gesture. “I’ll be away on a business trip for five days. Don’t worry; it won’t delay our plans to get the marriage license. I’ll bring you back a little something,” Carl added, taking her hand gently. Yvonne pulled her hand back lightly and nodded again. She mused, “How ironic that I would be leaving this place in just five days.” “Amanda will come by to check on you while I’m gone,” Carl said. Yvonne shook her head and signed to say, “I don’t like having anyone in the house. I can take care of myself.” “Alright, you stubborn girl. But leaving you alone at home makes me a bit uneasy. Just promise me you’ll text me every day, okay?” Yvonne nodded again, though she knew she wouldn’t actually send any messages. Before heading out, Carl stocked up on fresh fruits, vegetables, and meat. When Aiden Parker arrived to pick Carl up, he chuckled. “Yvonne, look at how good Carl is to you! He’s worried you might get anxious while he’s away, so he sent me to check in.” Yvonne met Aiden’s gaze, recalling what he had said that night. Aiden had said that he kept things from her, but all for her sake. She smiled, though it felt a bit distant. Aiden didn’t think much of it; he could see how Yvonne’s eyes only lit up when she looked at Carl. “Yvonne, we’re off!” Carl called, wheeling his suitcase toward the door. Yvonne nodded, watching them leave. Aiden suddenly felt a twinge of realization—Yvonne looked at Carl the same way she looked at him. As he glanced back, Yvonne waved goodbye and turned to head back into the house. “Carl, are you sure it’s okay for Yvonne to be home alone?” Aiden asked, starting the car. “It’s just a few days for the business trip. I’ll be back before you know it,” Carl reassured him. But just as he was finishing his sentence, a delicate hand slipped up from the back seat. Carl turned slightly to see Felicity climbing up from the rear. “Mr. Whitman, can I join you on the trip? It’ll be so boring with just a bunch of guys,” Felicity chimed in, her hand sliding under Carl’s jacket. Carl scoffed, but the heat radiating from his body told Felicity everything she needed to know. “Mr. Whitman, I shouldn’t have joked with Ms. Chase that day. You explained it to her, right? She’s such a naive girl; of course, she would believe you,” Felicity said, her tone brazen, completely disregarding Aiden’s presence. She was sure Yvonne knew about her and Carl by now. Maybe by the time they returned, Yvonne would have left on her own. That kind of girl was innocent yet stubborn—she wouldn’t compromise her dignity. If Yvonne left, with her skills, she could easily find a way to rise up. “Yvonne trusts me completely. She won’t overthink it,” Carl said, a hint of pride in his voice. In his mind, Yvonne believed in him above all else. Back at the villa, Yvonne began to pack her things. On the first day, she burned all the gifts Carl had made for her and every photo they had taken together. Meanwhile, Carl had just arrived at his business destination, spending the night with Felicity at a hot springs resort. Carl was having too much fun to remember to check in with Yvonne, and he didn’t even notice that she hadn’t texted him to ask if he had arrived safely. The next day, Yvonne sold all the clothes and luxury items Carl had bought for her at a second-hand store. On the third day, she donated the money to a rural elementary school. After wrapping up with a client, Carl took Felicity for a wild ride, speeding up to the mountaintop where they let loose, basking in the glow of the sunset and the dawn. It was pure indulgence. Felicity was a whirlwind of excitement, her suitcase stuffed with all sorts of supplies that kept Carl on his toes. In the thrill of the moment, he completely forgot about Yvonne. On the third day, Yvonne went into the rose garden and uprooted every single rose, and on a whim, she chopped down the cherry tree that had just begun to bear fruit. Those were all plants Carl had lovingly tended for her. Meanwhile, Carl and Felicity had flown abroad, and he was sprawled out on a private beach, enjoying the attentive care Felicity provided. It was then that he finally thought of Yvonne. Three days had gone by without a word from her. He pushed Felicity away and reached for his phone, ready to call Yvonne. But it was nighttime back home. Carl hesitated, putting the phone down. He imagined Yvonne was upset with him for not reaching out sooner. He mused, “Yvonne has a temper, after all.” He gazed at her photo on his phone, a warm, affectionate grin spreading across his face.

On the fourth day, Yvonne signed over the rights to her and Carl’s romantic comic to a multinational film company. From now on, this story would no longer belong to her and Carl; it was just a product. In the dead of night on his end, Carl decided to video call Yvonne during her daytime. But she hung up immediately. She didn’t want to hear his voice. Carl knew Yvonne was upset. The girl he held so dear had a way of making even her anger seem adorable. He started texting her. [Yvonne, babe, I’m sorry! I’ve been feeling a bit under the weather since I got here and completely forgot to check in.] [Yvonne, please don’t be mad. I’ll book a flight right now and be back tomorrow. I promise it won’t delay our plans to get the marriage license.] [Yvonne, just wait for me. I’ve got a gift for you!] [Yvonne, I love you. Don’t ignore me.] He sent dozens of messages, but they all fell on deaf ears. Panic began to set in. He quickly instructed his assistant to book a flight back, but the earliest he could get home was at 1 AM the day after tomorrow. Carl sent Yvonne his flight details. [Yvonne, I’ll be back tomorrow night.] [Yvonne, I can’t wait to register our marriage and bring you home. That’s when I’ll finally feel at ease.] Yvonne read Carl’s messages, feeling a bitter irony wash over her. His landing time coincided perfectly with her departure. Yvonne finally typed out before silencing her phone: [Don’t forget to check out the comic’s grand finale and the gift.] She tossed her phone into the box where she had once kept her engagement ring. Inside the box were photos of Carl and Felicity together—intimate moments captured in the car, in the great outdoors, at Yvonne’s Evergreen Wonderland before it opened, and during this very trip, and more. Felicity sent her sex photos every day. There were all sorts of poses with Carl. Each image spoke volumes without a single word. They starkly obliterated every fond memory and ounce of love Yvonne had once felt. With a steady hand, Yvonne picked up a pen and wrote: [We are breaking up.] Meanwhile, Carl was on the plane, feeling his heart race as if something precious was slipping away from him—something he desperately tried to grasp but couldn’t. Felicity had initially thought about doing something thrilling at a high altitude, but for the first time, Carl firmly turned her down. A sense of panic washed over Felicity as her right eye twitched. “Mr. Whitman, I think I’d like to stay with a friend for a while. Once my belly gets bigger, I’ll come back to you,” Felicity said with a playful smile. “Do whatever you want,” Carl replied, tossing her a credit card. Felicity accepted it with a grin. She thought to herself, “Money is all that matters. With enough cash, I can disappear whenever I want. If there’s trouble, they won’t find me. If nothing happens, I can come back with Carl’s child and maybe even secure my position.” On the fifth day, Yvonne hired a professional moving company and cleaning crew. Every personal item she owned was packed up and taken away, leaving no trace of her in the house. As night fell, Yvonne double-checked the timeline for the comic launch, confirming everything was in order. She also arranged for two boxes of cash to be delivered. After three years with Carl, the gifts he had given her were all converted into this amount of money. Yvonne wanted to cut ties with Carl completely; she didn’t want a single cent from him. Just like his cheap love, she didn’t want any part of it. At 1 AM, as the comic’s grand finale was released, Yvonne slipped into a car through the back entrance, the vehicle gliding smoothly into the night. She mused, “Carl, I don’t want to see you anymore.”

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In the year Percival Hopkins was at his lowest, I broke up with him. Later, when he became successful and famous, my father tied me down and sent me straight to his bed. He gave up his wealthy fiancée to reunite with me. Our friends all said he was my savior. But only I knew the truth, that this was just Percival’s delayed revenge. He confined me to a secluded villa on a mountaintop, controlling me with an iron fist. Meanwhile, he openly attended various parties with his former fiancée, Evelyn Leach, and the world only knew of her, never of me. On my birthday, I called Percival. “It’s raining again tonight, Percival. Are you coming back?” Meanwhile, he was busy cutting cake for Evelyn, and his impatient voice came through the phone. “Can you stop going on about the rain? Just deal with it yourself. What, you think you’re going to die from it?” Later, I really did die. He couldn’t help but ask me over and over again in his dreams. “Yolanda Beasley, do you really not want me anymore?” On Christmas Eve, when everyone else was gathering with their loved ones, I wandered the streets like a lost soul. It had been so long since I’d been out, and everything felt new to me. Honestly, this opportunity came only after I begged Percival for a long time. After we got married, it was as if he feared I would run away. He set up curfews for me. Whenever I came home late, he would mock me. “Out running around again? Don’t tell me you’ve found some old client to entertain?” I can still remember the cold gleam in his eyes at that moment. Eventually, he must have tired of being angry, so he just locked me inside the house. If I really needed to go somewhere, I had to ask for permission. I thought, “Looking back, I once ruled the world, but now I’ve ended up like this. It’s pretty pathetic.” The cold winter wind pierced through my collar, making my bones ache with the chill. I hunched my shoulders and wandered along under the eaves, not noticing a white dog almost tripping me. I stepped back, studying it closely. It was a Samoyed, thin and frail, lying stiffly in a filthy pile of garbage. It was clear it had been neglected, likely starving and unloved for some time. Its once-white fur was now yellowed, covered in childish scribbles. Anyone who saw their beloved pet in such a state would surely feel heartbroken. If it were my dog, Carl… I sighed and was about to step over it when a clear, jingling sound caught my ear. The bell around the dog’s neck had fallen off and lightly clinked against its metal ID tag. That ID tag… I took a few steps forward, crouched down, and flipped the tag over. In bold letters, it read: [Carl.] Behind me, the street was busy with people and lights, but in the dark alley, only the cold wind howled through, echoing its mournful cry. I thought, “This damn world really doesn’t leave me any room for sentiment…” I stood there in silence for a long while before finally letting out a deep sigh and a stiff smile. I wrapped my arms around Carl and joked. “Carl, where have you been playing? Covered in dirt… Don’t worry. I’ll get you all cleaned up.” Carl was an adult Samoyed, and back in the day, I could barely catch him when he jumped on me. Now, I could easily lift him up. I struggled to pull out my phone and looked at the balance page, relieved to see I still had a few thousand dollars left. I carried Carl all the way to the nearest pet shop and begged the owner to give him a bath. The kind shopkeeper even recommended a reliable pet funeral service. I held Carl’s ashes and went to a cemetery on the outskirts of town. I found the familiar grave without much trouble and placed Carl’s urn inside. The small urn didn’t take up much space. It was just enough to hold a piece of me. “Carl, sleep now, don’t be afraid, baby. “You’ll be right next to me. It won’t be long before I join you. Sorry, I was useless.” I struggled to lift the heavy concrete slab and place it back into position. Brushing the dust off my clothes, I waved at the tombs on my way out of the cemetery. It was getting late now, and I held my dead phone tightly, hunching my shoulders as I stepped into the house. Before I could even set my shoes down, I heard Percival’s angry voice echoing from the distance. “You’re finally back, huh?” A storm was clearly brewing.

I hesitated, dragging my feet as I made my way to the living room. I had planned to soften things up with a few kind words to calm Percival down. But when I looked up, I saw him sitting on the couch with Evelyn in his arms. Evelyn was always a thorn in my side back in school. Whatever I liked, she liked. The pretty pens I had, the new dress my parents bought me, and even the guy I had a crush on, she had to chase after those things, too. In college, when I was trying to win Percival’s heart, she was always finding ways to get close to him. Even after Percival and I got together, she still found reasons to show up, always in my way, making my blood boil. By the time I returned home after my time abroad, she had already become Percival’s fiancée. She was just one step away from becoming his wife. But in the end, through a twist of fate, it was me who married him. She hated me very much. And I didn’t feel like about her, either. The smile I had almost formed on my face vanished, and in an instant, I was back to wearing my usual blank expression. “Percival, why did you bring her here?” Before Percival could speak, Evelyn said. “Percival wants a divorce, so he brought me here to see what it’s like to be the lady of the house!” Her hand slid over Percival’s shoulder, and the sleeve of her shirt shifted, revealing a jade bracelet. That was a family heirloom from the Hopkins family, which Percival’s mother had once shown to me when she was still alive. I fixed my gaze on Percival, my eyes sharp. “Is it true?” Percival said nothing, his expression a mix of curiosity as he watched me closely. Evelyn leaned in, planting a kiss on his cheek. He didn’t pull away. I knew exactly what he was doing. This was his way of getting back at me for leaving and going abroad. Even though this little drama had played out repeatedly over the past year and more since we got married, it still stabbed at my heart. Evelyn nestled into Percival’s arms, her eyes glittering mischievously. Suddenly, they brightened. She jumped up and rushed over, grabbing a small pet collar. “Isn’t this Carl’s collar? It’s been missing for so long! “When it disappeared, Percival and I were both so worried. Who would’ve thought you would find it now!” Percival noticed the collar, sitting up slowly. A flash of guilt crossed his face. “Why didn’t you bring it back, and then?” “How could I? Carl’s been rotting in the trash.” Percival pressed his lips tightly together as if holding back something, the guilt in his eyes deepening. Then, Evelyn’s expression shifted. She leaned closer to me, her voice calm but venomous. “It’s good that it can’t come back. After you left, I thought I could get close to it, but it really was just like you, always glaring at me. So, I intentionally let it go and had people chase it far away. Well, it’ll never come back. “Yolanda, see? This is its fate.” I forced myself to calm down, struggling to keep the breakdown inside from breaking through. Evelyn was about to say more, but I slapped her hard, sending her sprawling to the floor. I shook with anger, grabbing her collar. “Carl’s a lucky one! Don’t curse it!” Before I could say another word, tears started to fall. I wanted to keep going, but then I felt a sharp pain in my hand. Percival had grabbed my wrist, forcing me to release my grip on Evelyn’s collar. He stood above me, looking down coldly. The guilt on his face had long been replaced by indifference. “How dare you hit her? You stole her fiancé. You’ll never be able to make it up to her. “Yolanda, remember your place. You’re just a toy I bought.”

As Percival said, I stole her fiancé. Three years after breaking up with Percival and going abroad, I couldn’t resist sneaking back into the country. To my surprise, as soon as I walked out of the airport, my father, drowning in debt, caught me. He said he would sell me to the big boss of Gerelden, claiming it would not only pay off his debts but also give his gambling-addicted son some money to squander. I refused with all my might, but he slapped me hard enough that stars appeared before my eyes and tied me up tightly before sending me to a room. Before leaving, he reminded me not to end up like my ungrateful mother, who had been of no use and died in vain. The woman he so contemptuously spoke of had given him her entire life. In her final stages of cancer, she was forced to deal with his creditors, suffering humiliation before she died. That rainy night, her resolute figure, and the pool of blood on the floor were memories I could never forget. I struggled with everything I had, but all I could do was watch him disappear behind the door. I never would have imagined that in my darkest moment, the person who opened the door for me was Percival. He bought me from my father and became my employer… The sound of the door closing snapped me out of my chaotic thoughts. I glanced at the clock on the wall and realized it was already past midnight. Percival, who had been so nervous while holding Evelyn earlier, was now standing in front of me, drunk. He reached out to pull me up from the floor, holding me tightly. His head rested in the crook of my neck as he pouted to me like he did five years ago. “Honey, why do you always want to leave me? Am I not good enough? “I’ve got money now. I can buy you back.” The hand I had placed on his back froze slightly. I bitterly smiled. When Percival was drunk, everything he said felt like an insult to me. We held each other like lovers who were inseparable. I almost leaned in to kiss him, but then I met his gradually clearing eyes. I watched as the deep affection in his eyes was replaced with disgust. He shoved me away suddenly, and the familiar mockery followed. “Yolanda, how much do you love me? Even after I’ve grown to hate you, you still want to kiss me? “Are you planning to sell yourself again?” I didn’t know if it was because I’d gotten used to it, but the pain no longer struck me sharply. I awkwardly smiled and replied calmly, as if I were talking about something trivial. “Why do you think I’m short on money? You know me so well.” I clung to his legs and stood up, grinning in a way that begged for his favor. “Not much, just a million dollars will do!” Maybe it was my expression, or maybe it was my words, but I seemed to have triggered Percival even more. He looked at me with fury, his teeth clenched. “Are you really doing this for money? Did the Hopkins family starve you or what? “Look at you now. You’re all disheveled, and your face is as pale as a ghost!” He paused, his eyes flashing with a brief look of concern, but in the end, he didn’t say a word of it. “Look at you now. You’re worth far less than a million dollars. I’m not even asking for your room fee!” With that, he slammed the door and stormed off. I stared at my reflection in the glass, feeling like all my life had been drained from me. I barely resembled the vibrant person I once was. I wasn’t pretty, and I was close to death. The medical report in my pocket crinkled under my grip, and the doctor’s words still echoed in my mind. “Ms. Beasley, your condition is more severe than the last check-up. I’m sure you can feel it, and things will only get worse. I still recommend you try the new medicine if possible. It’s expensive, one million dollars per three doses, but at least it will ease your pain.” I looked down and let out a soft, mocking laugh, suddenly feeling a strange curiosity. I wondered, “Percival, what kind of expression would you have if you knew what this money was for?”

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“Dean, I accept the assignment. I’ll go to Sheania in two weeks.” Ophelia Hegseth stood by the office window, holding a pregnancy test report. The Dean’s voice came through the phone. “What changed your mind? I’ve been trying to convince you for years.” Ophelia smiled, “Just thought a change might be good. I need to get back to work now, bye.” Fighting back tears, Ophelia looked down at the pregnancy test report again. She had been an outstanding OB-GYN with multiple awards and a promising future. But instead of climbing the ladder, she chose to be a regular doctor just so she could spend more time with Jayden Romano. Three years ago, the Dean had offered her a career-advancing opportunity abroad, but Ophelia turned it down, unwilling to maintain a long-distance relationship with Jayden. Then, just thirty minutes ago, Jayden’s secretary came in for a pregnancy check-up. But it wasn’t really about the check-up. The secretary was marking her territory. Jayden had always doted on Ophelia, loving her to his core. He would’ve given her the moon if she’d asked for it. Their relationship was legendary in business circles. Everyone knew how Ophelia had supported Jayden when he was building his empire from scratch, staying by his side through thick and thin. People often said that when men got wealthy, they couldn’t resist temptation and ended up leaving their wives. But with Jayden, that wasn’t quite the story. Ophelia had believed she and Jayden would spend their lives together, deeply in love. Growing up without parents, she’d always been self-reliant until meeting Jayden. His love and protection had made her give him her whole heart. But things had started to change recently. For the past month, Jayden had been “busy”, and their time together kept shrinking. At first, Ophelia thought he was wrapped up in a new project. Her heart ached for him, and no matter how exhausted she was, she’d come home every day to cook dinner and wait up for him. But today, she learned the truth. Jayden hadn’t been busy with work this past month—he’d been busy with another woman. Ariel Meyer told Ophelia that she and Jayden had been together for a year, starting when she first joined the company as an intern fresh out of college. Suddenly, it all made sense—how she’d gotten fast-tracked from intern to executive assistant before her probation period was even up. When Jayden had claimed Ariel was hired for her “exceptional skills”, he clearly wasn’t talking about her office abilities. It was about how good she was in bed. Ophelia carefully folded the prenatal test results and slipped them into her pocket. Seven years with Jayden, and she’d been hoping to bring up marriage this year. Well, looked like that conversation wouldn’t be necessary now. As she stepped out of the hospital after her shift, she spotted Jayden waiting for her. The black Bentley was hard to miss, as always. “Look who’s here – your devoted CEO boyfriend again!” Her coworker gushed. “God, I’m so jealous. Seven years together, and he still picks you up from work. You two are crazy for each other!” “But aren’t you heading to Sheania for that three-year assignment in two weeks?” her colleague added. “How’s he going to handle that long-distance thing?” “As long as I can handle it, that’s all that matters,” Ophelia replied curtly, already walking toward the Bentley. It was no mystery why women fell for Jayden. Over six feet tall, movie-star handsome, and now a powerful CEO—who wouldn’t be drawn to that package? So Ophelia didn’t blame Ariel. If anyone was at fault, it was her own man who couldn’t keep it in his pants! As Ophelia approached, Jayden pulled a bouquet of blue roses from his car and held them out to her. “Rough day at work, baby?” For the past year, Jayden had brought flowers every time he picked her up. Ophelia had never been into flowers, but she’d always accepted them with a bright smile. Now it clicked. Ariel must have been the type of girl who went crazy for flowers, and Jayden had just assumed Ophelia was the same. “Only little girls need flowers like these. I don’t.” This time, Ophelia didn’t accept the bouquet. In a way, she was grateful to Ariel. Without her, Ophelia would have kept living in denial. She knew with absolute certainty that Jayden would never have ended things with her on his own. But Ophelia didn’t want a love that was tainted.

Back in the car, Jayden must have sensed something was off. He reached for her hand. “What’s wrong, babe? Rough day at the hospital with a difficult patient?” Ophelia had always worn her heart on her sleeve, often taking her patients’ struggles to heart. “Yeah,” she said softly, looking at Jayden. “Today, I had a patient come in for a pregnancy check-up. I found out later she was the other woman in an affair. “Why do people cheat? Is the grass really always greener on the other side?” At Ophelia’s question, panic flickered across Jayden’s eyes for a split second before he masked it with a casual smile. He pulled her close and said, “You’re just too empathetic, always taking everyone’s problems as your own. “But you know how people are. Sometimes, they just can’t help themselves, always chasing after something new and exciting.” Ophelia looked up at him, a strange feeling settling in her stomach. Earlier that day, she’d been devastated. Seven years of pouring her heart and soul into a relationship—anyone would be heartbroken by such betrayal. But after spending the afternoon processing everything, Ophelia had gained some clarity. So when she heard Jayden’s calculated analysis, she felt no pain, only irony. “You want to try something new?” Ophelia asked, her voice steady. Jayden’s fingers trembled slightly on her shoulder as he answered with practiced tenderness, “You’re all I need. What we have is irreplaceable. I don’t need anything new.” “Yeah, right,” she thought with a bitter smile. If Ophelia hadn’t met Ariel today, she might have believed him. Just then, his phone rang. Jayden instinctively glanced at Ophelia when he saw the caller ID, only answering after confirming she wasn’t paying attention. Jayden instinctively edged toward the car door, trying to put some distance between himself and Ophelia—probably afraid she might overhear. What he didn’t realize was that his Bluetooth earbuds were right next to her, still connected and broadcasting every word of Ariel’s side of the conversation. Ophelia dug her nails into her palms, fighting to keep her composure. After hanging up, Jayden turned to her with a guilty look. “Baby, I’m so sorry, but there’s an emergency at work. I need to head there right away. Let me get you a cab, okay?” But Ophelia had heard it all crystal clear. Ariel was having morning sickness and wanted him to come over for dinner. She’d even bought a new roleplay outfit she knew he’d love. At that moment, Ophelia felt physically sick to her stomach. Looking at Jayden, she put on a sweet voice. “Why don’t I come to the office with you? I don’t have anything planned after work anyway.” Jayden’s face immediately tensed up at her suggestion. “Baby, you’ve had such a long day already. I might be stuck there till late tonight. There’s no point in you waiting around. Just head home and get some rest, okay? I’ll try to wrap things up as quickly as I can.” He sounded so caring, so concerned about her wellbeing. If only he knew that she already knew everything. But Ophelia didn’t push it any further. What was the point? She was just tired of it all. Ophelia asked the driver to pull over and got out of the car alone. Standing on the sidewalk, she watched Jayden’s car disappear into the distance. At that moment, she felt the last warmth in her heart turn to ice. Ophelia walked aimlessly through the autumn night, memories of her life with Jayden playing like a movie in her head. Back then, when Jayden had announced he wanted to start his own business and quit his job, she’d stood by him without hesitation. She’d supported them both on her modest salary, never complaining once. She could still remember those winter mornings, biking to work in the freezing cold instead of taking a cab just so she could put better food on their table. “I promise I’ll make it big,” he’d told her. “We’ll have our dream house someday, Ophelia. Just trust me.” “I’ll cherish you forever,” he’d said. “You’re my forever and always.” A bitter smile crossed her face. He had delivered on part of his promise—the luxury mansion, the successful business. But “forever” hadn’t lasted nearly as long as she’d thought it would.

Back home, Ophelia took a hot shower to shake off the winter chill and then began packing for her departure. She filled her suitcases with clothes and essentials, arranging for an international courier service to pick them up. The housekeeper noticed her bustling around and asked curiously, “Mrs. Romano, are you going on a business trip?” “No,” Ophelia replied. She had no intention of telling anyone, especially not Jayden’s staff. Instead, she made up an excuse. “Just clearing out my old clothes for donation.” “Mrs. Romano, you’re so thoughtful. I have prepared something to eat for you. Mr. Wilson just called to make sure we’d take good care of you.” “Just called?” Ophelia scoffed inwardly. She wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Jayden was quite a player—wanting to have his cake and eat it too, refusing to let go of Ophelia while sweet-talking Ariel on the side. He’d even managed to call and check on her while he was busy tending to his pregnant mistress. No wonder everyone still saw Jayden as the perfect husband. All her years of devotion had been forgotten, and now Ophelia finally understood why—Jayden was one hell of an actor. Staring at the food on the table, Ophelia couldn’t bring herself to take a single bite. Her stomach churned, though she wasn’t sure if it was from thinking about Jayden’s disgusting two-faced act or realizing she’d been nursing a snake in her bosom all this time. She barely made it to the bathroom before throwing up. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she gripped the sink, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Something clicked in her mind, and she reached for the pregnancy test she kept in the bathroom cabinet. A chill ran down Ophelia’s spine as she waited for the results. Her period was late by a few days this month, but she hadn’t thought much of it until the morning sickness hit. She’d written off the irregularity as stress from her hectic schedule. Ten minutes felt like an eternity. When the two lines appeared, Ophelia’s hands trembled. There wasn’t a shred of joy in her heart. Instead, it felt like a boulder was crushing her chest, making it hard to breathe. Just yesterday, news of this pregnancy would have sent her running to Jayden, excitedly planning their wedding. But knowing Jayden was at Ariel’s place right now, she couldn’t find any joy in the moment. Coming out of the bathroom, Ophelia sat on the edge of the bed, lost in thought for what felt like hours, wrestling with what to do about the baby. She’d always loved children and had spent countless nights imagining what it would be like to start a family with Jayden. But this was the last thing Ophelia had seen coming. While she was still reeling from the revelation, Jayden called. He told her he had to go on a last-minute business trip for a week, asking her to take care of herself and stay safe during her commute. Then, she heard a faint voice in the background, a travel agent confirming two tickets to Crystal Island. “Alright, take care of yourself too,” Ophelia replied with her usual warmth. Her familiar concern put Jayden completely at ease. After hanging up, Ophelia smiled. Minutes ago, she hadn’t known what to do about the baby. Now she did. Ophelia called in sick to work and then made appointments for the medical check-up and termination. She couldn’t keep this baby. Ophelia lay awake all night before heading to the hospital early the next morning. After the examination, she followed the doctor to the procedure room. Lying on the cold surgical table, she felt a chill that went bone-deep. The coldness pierced through to her core, like shards of ice stabbing at her heart. At this moment, the last thread connecting her to Jayden was about to be severed forever. From now on, they would truly be separate people living separate lives. When Ophelia woke up, she was hooked up to an IV drip. Her hand instinctively moved to her stomach. “It was over?” she thought, a bitter smile crossing her face.

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For three years, I cared for Lucas Blake after an accident left him blind. The moment he regained his sight, the first thing he did was propose to Melinda Carter, the woman who had always captured his heart yet seemed forever out of his reach. The entire hospital room fell silent, every pair of eyes darting to me. They all expected me to break down. But instead, I was the first to break into applause and extend my heartfelt wishes for them a lifetime of happiness. I didn’t shed a tear. I didn’t make a scene. I simply walked out of his life and never looked back. It wasn’t until Lucas stumbled upon the medical report confirming my severe depression that he finally called me. “If you come back, I’ll forgive your irrational behavior, and we’ll get you the help you need…” A low chuckle came from the other end of the line. “Mr. Blake, you don’t need to worry about my girlfriend.” ***** Lucas demanded, “Let Melinda stand before me. I want her to be the first person I see when my vision returns.” At those words, I paused in the middle of unwrapping the gauze from his eyes, my own eyes stinging with the threat of tears. Today was the day Lucas was being discharged from the hospital. After three long years, he could finally see the light of day again. But just like a man who threw away his crutches the moment he could walk, the first thing Lucas did with his restored sight was discard me, who had cared for him for three whole years. Melinda stepped forward from the crowd, her eyes brimming with tears. She took his hand and sobbed. “I’m here.” As the last strip of gauze fell to the floor, Lucas dropped to one knee, a radiant smile spreading across his face. “Then will you marry me?” Melinda burst into tears, nodding vigorously. “I do,” she whispered. Suddenly, the room erupted into a burst of cheers, and right there, in front of everyone, they shared a passionate kiss. As I watched the scene unfold, an intense pain gripped my heart. How could Lucas overlook that Melinda had left him when he lost his sight in a cruel accident? At that moment, Melinda’s best friend shot me a mocking glance. “You gave everything and still ended up with nothing. You’ll always lose to our Melinda.” All eyes turned to me, and their gazes were filled with pity and scorn. Even Lucas looked at me with a cold, detached expression. “Helen Jett, this was all just your wishful thinking. Don’t show your face around Melinda again. Or you’ll regret it.” Melinda covered her mouth in feigned surprise and glanced at Lucas. “Lucas, isn’t that a bit harsh? After all, Ms. Jett cares for you so much…” “But the only one I’ve ever loved is you,” Lucas cut in without a moment’s hesitation, pulling Melinda into an even tighter embrace. Seeing this, I let out a derisive snort and forced a smile, but despite my efforts, tears betrayed me, cascading down my cheeks. “Then consider it my own foolishness. Lucas, I wish you happiness.” I didn’t know how I made it home that day. My mind was a blur. I poured myself a glass of water and swallowed a white pill. As I slumped onto the sofa, a soft white ball of fur leaped up beside me. Moon, the cat Lucas and I had raised together, nuzzled against me, purring softly. When Lucas first lost his sight, he had been volatile, lashing out at the slightest provocation and knocking over anything in his path. The doctor suggested that having something to comfort him could greatly improve his condition, so we decided to raise Moon together, hoping she would bring him solace. Sure enough, his mood had stabilized considerably since then. With tears streaming down my face, I gently stroked Moon’s forehead, murmuring, “Now, he doesn’t want you either, does he?” The cat didn’t understand, of course. It just rubbed against me, seeking comfort. I drifted off on the sofa until the sharp sound of the door being unlocked jolted me from my slumber. Lucas walked in, Melinda trailing behind him. He looked down at me with a detached expression. “I’m here to pack my things and take Moon with me.” It hit me then that I was the only one left behind. I took a deep breath, raising my chin to meet his gaze. “No, she’s mine.” It was the first time I’d ever stood up to Lucas. His face darkened, his voice rising in anger as he shouted, “Helen, don’t forget she’s my comfort cat!” I flinched at his tone, my heart pounding. Melinda, who had been standing nearby, stepped forward to defuse the situation. “Lucas, why don’t you go pack your things first? I’ll have a word with Ms. Jett,” she said with a placating tone. Lucas shot me one last glare before disappearing into his room, leaving Melinda and me alone in the living room. She smiled as she approached me step by step. Reaching out, she tried to take Moon from my arms. “I know you raised her together, but Lucas doesn’t want you anymore. “Keeping this cat is just a pathetic attempt to make him notice you, right?” Before I could react, she yanked Moon from my arms. My heart dropped. “What are you doing?” I yelled. Melinda’s smile turned sinister as she tightened her grip on the struggling cat. “You’ll see.” She uttered these words and then quickly dashed to the window. By the time it dawned on me what she intended, it was too late. With no hesitation, she had already hurled Moon out of the window. “Moon!” My heart-wrenching and desperate scream tore through the air as I lunged half out of the window in a frantic attempt to catch the falling cat, but it was beyond my reach. Moon plummeted to the ground, landing with a sickening thud. She didn’t even make a sound.

Just then, Lucas emerged from the room, drawn by the commotion. His brow furrowed in confusion as he took in the scene before him—I collapsed on the floor, weeping with uncontrollable sorrow. “Lucas, you wouldn’t believe how ruthless Ms. Jett was!” Melinda threw herself into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably as she pointed an accusing finger in my direction. “Helen said she doesn’t want you to have what she can’t have. “I mean, she literally threw the cat out the window!” She wailed with fabricated sorrow, making it seem as though her words were undeniable truth. Lucas froze and gaped at me in disbelief. “Are you really that cruel? We raised her together!” Through tears, I glanced over at him, whose face contorted with anger. Despite the tension, a laugh escaped my lips. “What are you laughing at?” Lucas asked in confusion. But I felt no urge to explain myself. We had been inseparable, day and night, for three solid years. Everyone else might be in the dark about my feelings for Moon, but how could he, of all people, not understand? Yet, his heart was already devoted to Melinda, so even if I poured out my soul today, explaining with every tear I shed, it would change nothing. No number of words would ever make him believe me. So, I took a deep breath and pushed myself to my feet, swaying slightly as I stood. “Lucas, I truly regret taking care of you for the past three years.” His eyes flickered with a hint of sadness, but it was gone before I could even be sure it was there. I turned away, not wanting to dwell on it anymore, and walked downstairs, leaving them behind. ***** The day Moon was cremated, the rain fell in torrents. I returned home, clutching her ashes in my hands. My eyes were hollow and lifeless. When I opened the door, I expected to see her trotting over to rub against my legs. But there was nothing. Only deafening silence consumed me. For an entire week, I locked myself away, painting frantically at home. It wasn’t until I saw Moon on the canvas that I broke down. My fingers trembled as I traced her image, tears streaming down my face. “I’m sorry. I failed to protect you. It’s all my fault.” The truth was, it wasn’t about letting go of someone that hurt the most. It was the realization that you had misjudged them entirely. ***** Fate had its own plans when I ran into Lucas once more at a birthday bash thrown by a friend we both knew. Melinda clung to his arm with a tender smile, while around them, everyone was already toasting to their future wedding with cheerful anticipation. My best friend, Selena Short, cursed under her breath. “Shameless! If it weren’t for you taking care of him for three years, he’d still be blind!” I smiled and didn’t respond, my eyes full of melancholy. Halfway through the banquet, feeling suffocated, I excused myself and escaped to the tranquility of the back garden. The sound of heels clicking against the pavement grew louder until Melinda appeared in front of me. She beamed with joy. “Helen, didn’t you know we’d be here today? How dare you show your face in front of him? Have you forgotten what happened to the cat in the end?” My heart throbbed with a dull ache as I met her gaze with an indifferent stare. With a sharp slap, I struck her across the face. Melinda turned away, her hand flying to her cheek in shock. She then slowly turned back to me, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Did you just hit me?” “I wish I could kill you,” I snapped, hatred burning in my eyes. This wasn’t about Lucas. This was about her taking away Moon, the only source of joy I had left. She lunged at me, and her face twisted with malice. Suddenly, we were locked in a fierce scuffle. The noise we made drew the attention of everyone at the banquet. Just as I had the upper hand, ready to land a punch on her face, a figure dashed forward, shoving me hard to the ground. My neck jolted painfully as I hit the ground. “Melinda! Are you okay?” Lucas yelled and rushed to her side, enveloping her in his arms as he comforted her. With her protector now here, Melinda burst into tears instantly. “Lucas, I didn’t even provoke Helen, but she hit me!” I gasped for air, my hand instinctively reaching for my neck, feeling nothing. Panic surged through me as my eyes landed on the necklace in Melinda’s hand. Lucas shot me a sharp glare as he demanded, “Helen, apologize to Melinda.” “Give it back to me,” I whispered, my world narrowing to the necklace in her hand. I crawled toward them, oblivious to everything else. Melinda’s face drained of color. It was then she became acutely aware of the necklace clutched tightly in her trembling hand. She turned her gaze to Lucas with confusion and a hint of desperation. “What is this?” she asked. Lucas paused, his eyes reflecting a moment of contemplation before he explained, “It should be her mother’s relic.” Suddenly, a memory flashed through my mind. When I was feeding him, the cold pendant had brushed against his cheek, leaving a fleeting chill on his warm skin. He had been taken aback for a brief second and inquired, “What is this?” With sorrow clouding my eyes, I gently removed the necklace, examining it in my palm for a long while. Finally, I murmured, “It’s my mother’s legacy.” He hadn’t asked further. After a brief silence, he spoke in a soothing tone, “You must cherish the last thing your mother left you. Don’t be sad, Helen.” That moment marked the first time he had ever comforted me with such tenderness. Melinda smirked triumphantly as if she had found the ultimate weapon to win. She dangled the necklace in front of me. “If you beg me, I’ll give it back.” Lucas turned to face her, his lips parting as if to speak and closing again in silent struggle, words failing him despite several attempts. “Give it back to me!” Overwhelmed, I burst into tears and screamed, my outburst drawing whispers from the crowd of onlookers at the show. “It’s her mother’s legacy. Isn’t this going too far?” one murmured. “That’s right. Fighting is one thing, but to threaten someone with something so personal is just wrong,” another echoed. As the accusations flew from every direction, Melinda’s face grew red with embarrassment, her triumph slipping. Just as I reached out to take the necklace, Melinda threw it to the ground. The sound of it shattering into pieces echoed in the silence.

“Stop pretending to be pitiful! Who knows if this is even your mother’s relic…” My blood ran cold, and my heart felt as though it was caught in a relentless vice, squeezing the breath out of me. Melinda looked at Lucas with tearful eyes and complained with feigned innocence, “She was the one who hit me first.” Lucas sighed, his expression softening as he gently stroked her hair, “I know you’re always kind. You’d never start trouble.” As he spoke, he pulled her into his arms, shielding her from the chaos. Tears streamed from my eyes, each one falling like a broken bead, scattering upon the ground. I stood there, immobilized, as if time itself had stopped for an eternity. Just as they turned to leave, everyone thought I was giving up. I bent down, picked up a stone, and charged at them. The stone struck Melinda’s head with a sickening thud. Chaos erupted. She turned to look at me with shock, bright red blood streaming down her face. The next second, her eyes fluttered shut, and she collapsed, unconscious. “Melinda!” Lucas roared. He turned to me, his eyes blazing with fury. “If anything happens to her, I’ll make you pay with your life!” Without another word, he scooped her up in his arms and stormed away, leaving me standing there alone. ***** Half a month passed in a blur. Strangely, Lucas and Melinda didn’t come after me. I locked myself in my apartment, avoiding the world. It wasn’t until I ran out of medication that I finally ventured out, braving the rain to go to the hospital. The doctor, Jason Smith, glanced at me with hesitation. “Ms. Jett, your somatization has become quite severe. If we don’t intervene and start treatment soon…” “Dr. Smith, just prescribe the medication. Thanks,” I interrupted. He sighed deeply but said nothing more. Ever since my parents died in a car accident eight years ago, I had battled severe depression. Back then, Lucas, with his radiant smile and vivacious spirit, became my sole refuge. I fell for him helplessly. When he lost his sight, I finally had the chance to be by his side. In truth, I wasn’t just healing him; he was healing me, too. Being near him made me feel safe and grounded. Therefore, regardless of what trials he faced, I remained steadfast by his side for three long years. But gradually, I realized it was all a lie. He wasn’t my salvation. He was my downfall. Holding an art exhibition in Blissford was my final wish. My mother was once celebrated as a renowned painter, and I inherited her talent, gaining recognition as a talented artist with millions of followers across social platforms. One of her dying wishes was to see me hold my own exhibition. I had been preparing for this for years. Once it was done, I’d leave. The day of the exhibition arrived, and the venue was packed. Friends, fans, and prominent figures in the art world had all come to celebrate. “Congratulations, my brilliant painter,” Selena said, handing me a glass of champagne. Her expression softened with concern. “If it weren’t for Lucas, this exhibition would’ve happened a long time ago, wouldn’t it?” She was right. If I hadn’t spent three years as his caretaker, everything might’ve been different. As we spoke, a sudden commotion erupted at the entrance. A group of men in black suits stormed in, lining up in two rows, each holding a baseball bat. Then, Lucas strode in and glanced at me coldly. He lifted his hand and issued a curt command, “Smash it.” The men swung their bats, shattering every painting in the room. The crowd scattered, fleeing in panic as chaos consumed the exhibition hall. As the scene descended into chaos, his eyes narrowed with a look of satisfaction, and he slowly made his way towards me. He grabbed my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Melinda said your paintings are ugly. They made her feel sick,” he said in an icy tone. “Helen, because of that stone you threw at her, she’s still in the hospital. Consider this little lesson your apology to her.” Tears welled up in my eyes as I stared at the man I’d loved and cared for three years. Lucas was even more cold-hearted than I’d imagined. But strangely, my shattered heart didn’t ache anymore. It was numb. I yelled, “Lucas, I don’t love you anymore. I never want to see you again in this lifetime.” His smile faltered for a moment. With his jaw clenched tight, he growled, “Don’t love me anymore? Helen, you’d better mean it. “Otherwise, if you come crawling back, begging for forgiveness, I won’t even spare you a glance.” Then, he spun around sharply to leave. Once he was out of sight, I closed my eyes, my body trembling uncontrollably. But deep down, I felt a strange sense of relief. It was almost over.

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