Category: English

My name was Chloe Miller, the most unremarkable middle child in my family. My older sister was a piano prodigy. My younger brother was the family’s golden boy. My existence seemed to be solely for the purpose of highlighting their brilliance. The doctor said I might not live to see my eighteenth birthday. When I got home, Eleanor’s face immediately darkened as she saw me. “What trick are you trying to pull now? Are you deliberately trying to ruin Seraphina’s party?” “Eleanor, I’m sick, very sick. The doctor said I’m dying…” She snatched the paper from my hand and slapped it to the floor. “Dying? I think you’re desperate for attention! How could I have given birth to such a lying daughter!” To punish me, Richard locked me in the storage room. Seven days later. The storage room door was kicked open. Eleanor’s curses filled the air: “Chloe Miller, do I need to beg you? Get out! This cake is even too disgusting for a dog to eat, but it’s yours now!” But Eleanor, the smell of decay was already so strong. Could you truly not smell it? Your daughter was already rotting inside.

Bang! A loud crash, and I stumbled, hitting a wooden crate in the dusty storage room. The dust choked me, making me cough until my chest ached. “Reflect on your actions in here!” Richard glared at me, pointing a finger at my nose. “You can come out when you understand where you went wrong!” “I didn’t do anything wrong! The diagnosis is real! I’m really sick! Richard, believe me!” I braced myself against the wall, trying to argue. “Believe you?” He scoffed. “Eleanor is right. We’ve spoiled you rotten! You’d even make up such lies just to get attention!” “Do you know how much Seraphina has sacrificed for her competition today? The whole family wants her to be happy, and you just have to jump out now and put on a show!” “I’m not putting on a show!” I cried, trying to grab his sleeve. He recoiled in disgust. “Enough! You only ever use this act to gain sympathy!” Seraphina scoffed from outside the door. “Richard, don’t waste your breath on her. The guests are waiting for you downstairs. If we don’t go down soon, they’ll think something scandalous happened in our family.” She paused, her voice dripping with schadenfreude. “Chloe, just stay in there and be your tragic heroine. Whatever you do, don’t come out. You’ll scare the guests with your ghastly appearance.” “Seraphina!” I trembled with rage. “Why are you yelling? Did I say anything wrong?” She chuckled. “Oh, right, I forgot to tell you. Eleanor already tore up your diagnosis. That kind of trash paper would only dirty our floor.” Seraphina scattered the torn pieces of paper over my head. My heart clenched, the pain making me almost lose my footing. “How could you…” “How could we not?” Eleanor’s voice also rang out. “Chloe Miller, I’m warning you, tonight is Seraphina’s most important day. If you dare make another sound or ruin the atmosphere, you’ll see what I do to you! Stay in there until you learn how to be a daughter who doesn’t embarrass the family!” I looked at Richard desperately. He didn’t look at me, turning instead to Eleanor and Seraphina with a placating smile. “Alright, alright, let’s go downstairs. Don’t let this ruin your mood.” The click of the lock sealed me off from the world. I threw myself against the door, pounding on the wood. “Open up! Let me out! I’m really sick! I’m going to die!” “Richard! Eleanor! Please!” But the only response was the sound of piano music drifting up from downstairs. I slowly slid to the floor, leaning my back against the door. I could hear the guests’ laughter downstairs, Richard’s toast, Eleanor proudly introducing her genius daughter to everyone. “My daughter, Seraphina, she’s been talented since she was little…” “This gold medal is just the beginning, her future is limitless!” No one remembered that there was another me upstairs, a daughter slowly fading away. Waves of pain washed over me, and my consciousness began to blur. I curled up in the corner, hugging myself tightly. The storage room was filled with old family items, each one discarded, just like me. I don’t know how much time passed, but footsteps sounded outside the door. It was my younger brother, Ethan. “Hey, Chloe, are you still alive?” he asked in a childish voice, laced with malice. “Eleanor says you’re a big liar, and you deserve to be locked up.” He kicked the door hard. “Stop making so much noise! Your voice is awful! If you dare to die in there, don’t come haunting me as a ghost!” With that, he skipped away. I closed my eyes, tears streaming down my face. The piano music continued. The sound seemed to tell me that this family had nothing to do with me. I was just trash… something that could be thrown away at any moment.

The first day was spent in hunger and intermittent heart palpitations. There was nothing to eat in the storage room, not even water. My lips were cracked and peeling. I didn’t dare to cry out loudly anymore; that would only accelerate the consumption of my already dwindling strength and put more strain on my heart. I could only curl up, trying to keep my breathing shallow. In the darkness, my senses became unusually acute. I could hear the clinking of dishes and forks downstairs, and smell the food. A pang of pain shot through my stomach. I pressed my abdomen hard, burying my head in my knees. Grrr… My stomach growled at an inopportune moment. I gave a self-deprecating laugh. My body wanted to live more than my heart did. Memories surfaced uncontrollably. I was ten that year, Seraphina was twelve, and we both came down with a high fever. Eleanor stayed by Seraphina’s bedside all night, wiping her body with alcohol, repeatedly checking her temperature. I lay in the next room, my face flushed with fever, and called out, “Eleanor, I don’t feel well.” She impatiently poked her head in. “Chloe Miller, how old are you? Can’t you let Seraphina get some quiet rest?” “It’s just a fever, isn’t it? Drink some hot water, sleep it off, don’t be so delicate!” With that, she closed my bedroom door. I made it through that night on my own. The next day, Seraphina’s fever broke. Because I didn’t receive timely care, I developed pneumonia and stayed in the hospital for half a month. The day I was discharged, I cautiously asked Eleanor, “Eleanor, do you like Seraphina more?” She was peeling an apple for Seraphina, answering without looking up. “Seraphina is a star, you’re… well, you’re not. There’s no comparison.” “As long as you’re obedient and don’t cause trouble for Seraphina, that’s your greatest value.” It seemed that love and lack thereof were predetermined from the moment of birth. I snapped out of my memories, and the pain in my heart returned. I fumbled around, trying to find a more comfortable position to lie down. My fingers brushed against a cold object. Using the light from the crack under the door, I made it out. It was a painting trophy I won in elementary school, long since discarded here. My name, Chloe Miller, was engraved on it. Back then, I also thought I could shine. But then Seraphina started learning piano. She needed a piano, she needed the best teachers. The family expenses suddenly increased. Eleanor looked at my easel and paints, frowning. “What’s the use of a girl painting these? It won’t put food on the table, and it costs money.” “Stop painting from now on. Save the money for Seraphina’s tuition.” From that day on, my paintbrushes were broken, my dreams tossed into this storage room, gathering thick dust alongside this trophy. Late at night, the noise from downstairs finally ended. I heard Richard and Eleanor’s footsteps going upstairs. They passed the storage room door, and I held my breath. “Richard, do you think… that girl might actually be in trouble?” It was Eleanor’s voice, hesitant. My heart instantly leaped into my throat. “What trouble could she be in?” Richard’s voice sounded weary. “You still don’t know her? She’s always loved to use these tricks to get our attention. Starve her for a day, and she’ll know she was wrong.” “You’re right.” Eleanor’s voice returned to its usual tone. “Just let her stay in there and teach her a lesson. Otherwise, who knows what kind of trouble she’ll stir up in the future.” “Alright, let’s go to sleep. Tomorrow we still have to go with Seraphina to pick out a dress for the celebration gala.” Their footsteps faded, and my suspended heart finally sank. I hugged my knees, burying my face, not crying, for my tears had long since dried up. Suddenly, I heard a sound downstairs. I struggled to crawl to the door, peering through the crack in the floor. It was Richard. He walked directly below the storage room and stopped. My heart skipped a beat. “Richard…” I managed to squeeze a tiny sound from my throat, pounding on the floor. He heard it. He stood still, seemingly wrestling with something. One second, two seconds, three seconds… Then he let out a long sigh and turned away.

On the third day, my body was so weak that I was losing the strength to even lift my hand. My world was reduced to darkness, dust, and an increasingly fierce pain. Occasionally, I would hallucinate. I saw steaming hot meals laid before me. I saw Eleanor holding a glass of water, gently telling me, “Chloe, have some water.” I reached out, only to grasp at air. Click. There was a sound outside the door, not the key turning in the lock, but more like someone was there. I laboriously lifted my head. “Chloe Miller, are you still in there?” It was Seraphina. Her voice was very low. I had no strength to answer. “Hey, don’t play dead.” She seemed a little impatient. “I’m telling you, Richard and Eleanor took Ethan to the amusement park today to celebrate my competition success.” Her voice was filled with ill-concealed bragging. “We’re going for a big seafood dinner tonight. I hear that restaurant’s Australian lobster is famous.” “Are you very hungry?” she deliberately slowed her words. “I just ate a piece of tiramisu. Eleanor bought it especially for me. It was so delicious, the cream was fragrant and sweet…” My stomach spasmed, and sour bile rose in my throat. “Too bad you can’t have any.” She changed her tone. “Chloe, don’t blame us. Blame yourself. Why did you have to lie and make Eleanor angry?” “If you just knock on the door now and loudly say, ‘I was wrong, I shouldn’t have lied,’ I might consider bringing you a small piece of bread when I come back.” Her tone was like she was bestowing alms upon a beggar. I leaned against the wall, listening. This was my sister. She hadn’t come to see if I was dead. She had come to savor my misery, to enjoy the feeling of stepping on me. I closed my eyes, too tired to respond with a single word. My silence seemed to enrage her. “Chloe Miller, don’t be ungrateful!” Her voice suddenly rose. “Do you think Richard and Eleanor will soften if you don’t speak? I’m telling you, no way!” “They were even discussing this morning that after my celebration gala, the whole family would go on vacation to the Maldives! No one will be home then, what will you do?!” “You can just starve to death in there!” After her curses, she kicked the door hard, and the sound of her high heels faded into the distance. A vacation… perhaps they wished I would really die in there, so no one would bother them again. I weakly smiled. The pain in my heart grew heavier and heavier. I knew my time was running out. I traced lines on the floor with my finger. I wanted to write Richard, Eleanor, Seraphina, and Ethan’s names. I wanted to ask them, if I truly died, would they feel even a tiny bit of sadness? Even for just one second. But I didn’t even have the strength to finish writing the first letter of a name. My finger went limp, and I collapsed onto the floor. Before I lost consciousness, I thought I saw a small wooden box. It was my treasure chest that I had secretly hidden when I was little. Inside were my first family drawing, the first pencil Richard gave me, and the butterfly hair ribbon Eleanor tied for me. There was also a small note, on which was scrawled, “I wish our family would stay together forever.” Forever… what a sarcastic word. I lay on the floor, my body growing colder and colder. Just as my consciousness completely slipped into darkness, I thought I heard the sound of a door opening. Not the storage room door, but the front door downstairs. They were back from the amusement park. I heard Ethan excitedly shouting, “Eleanor, I want more ice cream!” I heard Eleanor’s doting laugh, “Okay, my sweet boy, I’ll take you again tomorrow.” I struggled to turn my head, pressing my ear to the floor. The light from the living room peeked through the cracks, along with the cheerful laughter of their happy family of three. It sounded so beautiful. Too bad, it no longer concerned me.

Fourth day, fifth day, sixth day. I had lost track of day and night. Hunger and pain no longer existed. I smelled a strange odor emanating from my body. I knew I was dying. Occasionally, when I was lucid, I would hear activity downstairs. Eleanor was instructing the housekeeper to clean, preparing for Seraphina’s second celebration gala. “Here, here needs to be sparkling clean! Seraphina’s guests are very important, we can’t have any oversight!” “Bring out that new set of imported dinnerware, yes, the one I didn’t even dare use for my own birthday.” Richard was on the phone, contacting hotels, confirming venues. “Yes, the banner needs to be prominently displayed, ‘Heartfelt Congratulations to Ms. Seraphina Miller for Winning the Piano Competition Gold Medal!’” “The lighting and music must be the best!” Ethan was running around the living room, loudly reciting a poem he planned to perform at the gala. “My sister, the brightest star in the night sky…” Every one of them was busy for the gala. They had all forgotten about me, forgotten in the storage room on the top floor, or rather, they simply didn’t care. My existence was out of place. My death, too, was destined to be silent. Seventh day. I completely lost control of my body. My soul seemed to float up, and I could look down and see myself, curled up motionless in the corner. My skin had taken on a bluish-gray hue, covered in lividity. So ugly, I thought. Suddenly, a burst of applause and cheers erupted downstairs. “Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you!” Birthday? I paused. Yes, it was Seraphina’s birthday today. And it was also my eighteenth birthday. The doctor said I wouldn’t live past my eighteenth birthday. I made it, or rather, my body did. “Time to cut the cake!” Ethan’s excited voice carried up. I saw a three-tiered cream cake in the center of the living room. Seraphina stood before the cake in a princess dress, her face beaming. Richard and Eleanor stood beside her, their eyes full of doting affection. This birthday cake, it wasn’t for me. “Seraphina, make a wish quickly!” Eleanor urged. Seraphina closed her eyes, clasped her hands, then blew out all the candles in one breath. Another round of cheers. I heard someone ask, “Mr. Miller, Mrs. Miller, how come we don’t see your second daughter?” The air was silent for a moment. Eleanor’s smile stiffened, then quickly returned to normal. “Oh, Chloe isn’t feeling too well, she’s resting upstairs.” She lied without batting an eye. Richard also chimed in, “Yes, that child has always been delicate since she was little, she doesn’t like crowds.” After the party, the guests gradually left, and the house finally grew quiet. Eleanor looked at the haphazardly cut cake, not much left, and seemed to finally remember something. She frowned, a look of disgust on her face. “What a waste.” She picked up a plate of leftovers, cream smeared with saliva, and said to Richard, “I’ll go call that brat downstairs. Let her taste it too, so she can’t say we mistreated her.” Richard nodded, not objecting. So, I watched Eleanor carry the plate of cake and walk up the stairs. Bang, bang, bang! She impatiently kicked the door. “Chloe Miller! Are you done playing dead? Do I need to invite you out?” “Get out! This cake is even too disgusting for a dog to eat, but it’s yours now!” She cursed as she used the key to unlock the padlock. The door was kicked open by her. A foul stench immediately wafted from the room, a smell that even overpowered the cream cake on her plate. “Ugh…” She instinctively gagged, covering her nose. “What’s that smell… Did you… did you go to the bathroom in there? It’s disgusting!” She used the hallway light to peer at the figure huddled in the corner. “Hmph.” She sneered, thinking I was still defying her. She put down the cake, walked in angrily, grabbed my arm, and yanked it up hard. “Don’t you dare pretend…” Her words stopped abruptly. The sensation in her hand made her freeze. It wasn’t the skin of a living person, but an indescribable texture. Something dripped down her fingers. She instinctively looked down, meeting a pair of cloudy, unfocused eyes. Those eyes were staring straight at her. And her hand was gripping a piece of flesh that had already rotted and detached.

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It was the eighteenth time a street photographer had stopped us. The photographer, as usual, pulled Nathan and my sister, Chloe, to the side, then handed their stuff to me. Chloe looked uncomfortable, pointing at me: “No, my sister and Nathan are the couple.” Nathan wrapped an arm around me. “Then let’s just take the picture, all three of us.” Forty-three photos, and Nathan only picked one. The photographer reminded him, “Your girlfriend closed her eyes in this one…” Nathan said flatly, “She doesn’t mind little things like that.” “Besides, Chloe looks really good in this one.” Later, when I borrowed his laptop, I discovered that picture had become his wallpaper. I had been completely cropped out. The screen showed only him and Chloe, radiating genuine, happy smiles. My heart skipped a beat. Suddenly, a SnapChat message from Chloe popped up: “Guess if Mia will be mad when she sees your wallpaper? Bet you an ice cream!” Nathan instantly replied, “No. I told you she’s not that delicate.” Looking at my profile picture, buried deep in Nathan’s WhatsApp chats, it suddenly hit me: he wasn’t bad at replying; he just thought I was too noisy. If that was the case, staying any longer would be impolite.

I calmly closed the laptop. Nathan emerged from the coffee shop at just that moment, holding coffees. “All done?” He pushed the laptop back. I nodded. I didn’t question him, just as he expected. Instead, he looked at me suspiciously. “Are you…?” Before he could ask, Chloe walked over with her bag. Nathan skillfully handed her a cup of coffee, then stuck a straw into his own and started drinking. Chloe took a sip and smiled. “Nathan, you’re amazing. You remembered my favorite flavor just from seeing me order it once. You really are an academic ace.” Nathan’s voice held an unsuppressed chuckle. “Have I ever forgotten anything about you?” Watching them banter back and forth, my heart sank to rock bottom. I spoke in a cold voice, “Nathan, where’s my coffee?” The atmosphere instantly froze. Nathan froze, then smiled, pushing a coffee toward me and ruffling my hair. “Good girl, let’s share one.” I looked at the iced Americano. “I’ve told you many times, I have bad cramps today and can’t drink anything cold.” Nathan frowned. “I’ll go buy you another one.” I gave a bitter smile and shook my head. “No need.” The old Nathan used to remember every single one of my periods. He’d arrange everything without me having to say a word. If love was something I had to ask for, it wasn’t worth keeping. Chloe tried to smooth things over. “Alright, alright, let’s drop it and get back to our competition project.” Nathan opened his laptop. I quickly lowered my head, pretending to check my phone, avoiding his wallpaper, avoiding the shared glance between him and Chloe, avoiding subjecting myself to that humiliation. Only when he opened the file did I look up. But I found I couldn’t join their conversation. “Once the results of this competition are out, we can apply for grad school at Harvard!” “Then I’ll take you on that trip. Haven’t you wanted to see the ocean for ages?” “Yeah, I’ve pulled so many all-nighters for these competitions! I need a good break then!” “Hopefully, all three of us will be at the same university!” Chloe finished, then looked at me. “Mia, which university do you want to go to for grad school?” Nathan naturally put his arm around me. “She wants to go to Harvard, just like us.” Chloe smiled and nodded. “That’s good. We can’t be missing anyone…” They continued chatting. I avoided Nathan’s hand on my shoulder, my stomach churning. I never wanted to go to Harvard; I wanted to go to Stanford. Before, I used to playfully tell Nathan, “Let’s go to Stanford together, okay?” Nathan would always smile and playfully tap my nose. “Whatever you want.” But I don’t know when it started, His attitude changed, becoming firm. “I want to go to Harvard, Mia. Will you come with me to Harvard? I don’t want to be separated from you.” I thought he valued Harvard’s reputation, but now I realized, It was just Chloe who wanted to go to Harvard. Turns out we were both accommodating one person. I sighed, deleting all the saved information on my phone about Harvard dorms, faculty, campus environment, and routes. My vision suddenly blurred. I blinked, And typed two words into my notes app. Stanford University.

Finally, we submitted the competition project. Nathan took my hand. “Let’s go, time for dinner.” “Didn’t you always want to try that new Japanese place?” I looked at him, surprised. I’d mentioned that restaurant almost daily since it opened, But Nathan always found new excuses to refuse: student council work was too busy, it was too far, he wasn’t hungry… Today, he was actually suggesting it. Chloe patted Nathan’s shoulder. “Nice, nice. I just told you about that place today, and you already thought of going!” Then she turned and winked at me. “You’ve got a good boyfriend there, Mia. You’re really lucky.” Lucky? I opened my TikTok app. He hadn’t replied to a single video I’d shared. He hadn’t taken a single word I’d said to heart. I pulled my hand away from Nathan’s. The rideshare arrived. Nathan opened the car door, gesturing “please” to Chloe. Usually, at this point, I would ask: “Why don’t you invite me first? Aren’t I your girlfriend?” Nathan would always say with a smile: “Why are you even jealous of your own sister?” “Don’t I have to butter up your family first so they’ll trust me with you?” After that, I could only swallow any further dissatisfaction. But now, there was no need. When Nathan turned to call me into the car, I shook my head, And got into the passenger seat. Nathan’s private message came through: [Upset?] My fingers trembled as I prepared to reply. But the next second, the two of them burst into laughter in the backseat. I exited Nathan’s chat, And typed a line of text: [Ethan, did you go to Stanford last year?] [I’d like to ask you something.] At the restaurant, Nathan still sat on the same side as Chloe. They discussed the menu, talked to the waiter, complaining about their tight schedule lately. No one looked up at me, as if I were invisible. Finally, Chloe looked up and asked: “Oh, right, Mia, why haven’t I heard you mention wanting to go to Harvard?” “I have tons of Harvard resources here, I’ll send them to you.” Ten or so files came through in a row. I randomly opened one. The familiar annotation style was Nathan’s. A 99-page document, meticulously detailing Harvard’s campus environment, dorm conditions, surrounding malls, and dining halls. Every dish Chloe liked had two asterisks next to it. I didn’t know how long it took to create all this. I only knew that every time we had a date or traveled, Nathan was always glued to his laptop, collecting information. When I complained he wasn’t spending time with me, he would only say: “I’m doing this to give you a better experience, you know.” But in the end, I never received the files, Instead, every moment we had alone was filled with Chloe. When we left after dinner, I stared blankly at their parallel figures. And still, shamelessly, tears welled up. Suddenly, Nathan stopped. “Dummy, your backpack zipper is open.” Chloe stuck out her tongue, Turning her back to let Nathan zip it up for her. Several acquaintances walked by, saw the scene, and started cheering: “I knew Nathan was too handsome not to have a girlfriend! Turns out he was hiding her!” “Oh, they’re really a perfect match!” Nathan frowned, about to explain, Chloe clasped his hand. He looked down at their intertwined fingers and suddenly fell silent. I turned and exited through the side door, Remembering the old Nathan, who made a big public show of pursuing me. The first day we got together, he announced to the world that I was his girlfriend. I asked him why he was so silly, and he pinched my cheek: “It’d be silly not to tell everyone I have such a beautiful girlfriend.” What made him deny I was his girlfriend now? Nathan caught up behind me. “Mia! Mia!” I wiped my tears and turned around: “Nathan, let’s break up.”

Nathan frowned. “Mia, if something’s bothering you, just say it. There’s no need to threaten me with a breakup.” I met his gaze, and he instinctively looked away. He knew I wasn’t joking. No matter how big the conflict, I wouldn’t easily suggest breaking up, but I couldn’t continue with such an insecure relationship anymore. Nathan sighed and took my hand. “Is it because I’ve been too busy lately? Do you feel neglected?” “Mia, applying for grad school at Harvard is important for both of us. We’ve worked for three years for this. Once we’re accepted, I promise I’ll spend quality time with you.” My hands and feet were icy cold from the evening breeze, but at that moment, I felt no fondness for the warmth of his hand. I scoffed. “Nathan, you don’t have time for me, but you have time for Chloe?” “Her messages get instant replies, mine are always read but ignored? Let’s break up, I’m really tired.” The last shred of tenderness in Nathan’s eyes vanished. Replaced by a chilling gaze. “Mia, I’ve told you many times.” “I’m good to Chloe, good to your family, all because of you.” He hailed a taxi with Chloe, throwing me a parting shot, “You’re not thinking clearly right now. We’ll talk about this when we get to Harvard.” No need to talk. There was no going back. Harvard was 3120 miles from Stanford, and perhaps, we would never see each other again. I hailed a rideshare back to school by myself. When I returned to my dorm, my roommate told me: “Your boyfriend sent you flowers again! So handsome, so smart, and so loyal. We’re all so jealous of you!” I merely hummed in response, looked at the red roses on my desk, and turned to throw them in the trash. My roommate gasped. “What are you doing?!” “These aren’t my favorite flowers.” I looked at the vibrant red roses in the trash. Those were Chloe’s favorite flowers. After that, neither Chloe nor Nathan contacted me, just like before. But sometimes, when I came across a funny video or a cool new spot I wanted to check out, I’d pause, not knowing who to share it with. I told myself, just get through this, and everything will be fine once I get to Stanford. The day the competition results came out, I found my bonus points were lower than both Nathan’s and Chloe’s. I frantically called Nathan, but he hung up each time. On the eleventh call, he finally answered. My breath hitched, and I asked with a trembling voice, “Why is my score the lowest for the team project?” His calm voice came through the receiver: “Chloe said her grades weren’t that high, and she wanted more competition points to make her Harvard application more secure, so I put her name first.” “Is that a problem? Isn’t she your sister? And even if your competition score is low, you can still easily get into Harvard.” Before I could say anything, Nathan hung up. I couldn’t control my anger. Chloe had been slacking off and chatting every time, and I had done most of the work for the team. But Nathan, without consulting me, had directly placed Chloe ahead of me. Stanford’s admission difficulty was much higher than Harvard’s. In the end, it was because of Nathan and Chloe that I missed my closest shot at my dream. I blocked Chloe’s and Nathan’s contact information one by one. I never wanted to see these people again. As I began preparing for exams, I received a message: [Mia, thank you for the materials you shared before. They were incredibly helpful.] [Our competition roster is about to be submitted. If you need it, our team is willing to list you as a member.]

The day I flew to Stanford for my interview, I ran into Nathan at airport security. His laptop had been mixed up with someone else’s, and he was booting it up to check. His wallpaper was clearly another street photo of me from that day. I calmly averted my gaze. Whoever his wallpaper was, or why he had that photo, it had nothing to do with me anymore. Chloe walked over. “Nathan, are you ready…?” Suddenly, she saw me. “Mia! I knew you’d be on this flight! Why didn’t you call us?” Nathan suddenly looked up, fumbling to pack away his laptop. He looked at me with an urgent gaze. I quietly waited for him to speak. But what he said was just as cold. “So you decided to come back?” “We’ve already planned our trip. You can find a hotel and stay there yourself.” Even though I was utterly disappointed in him, hearing the person I once loved say that was still incredibly painful. Nathan, do you think everyone should revolve around you? Who do you think you are? I smiled at them. “You two can go on your trip. It has nothing to do with me.” I pushed my suitcase and turned to leave. Chloe’s voice came from behind. “Mia, Mia! Wait for us, let’s go together! We can look out for each other!” “Enough, Chloe. Leave her be. She’ll come back when she’s done throwing a tantrum. We just spoiled her before.” On the plane, I turned off my phone. For the three-hour flight, I just stared blankly out the window. The clouds kept changing. It felt like I hadn’t looked up at the sky in a long time. The journey to Harvard was shorter than to Stanford. As soon as I turned on my phone, I received a string of messages from Nathan, And 21 missed calls. [Mia, there’s a limit to how much you can joke.] [Where are you? I’m coming to get you.] Another call came in. I hung up again. I dragged my suitcase out of the airport. From now on, I had nothing to do with him.

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The anniversary cake on the wall hadn’t even been cut when he pushed a divorce agreement toward me and said his first love was back, and he wanted me to spend her final six months with her. “When she’s gone, we’ll remarry.” I gripped that thin sheet of paper, my nails digging into my palm. “Ethan Whitmore, what do you take me for?” He sneered. “You were never supposed to be Mrs. Whitmore in the first place.” That night, I called him, curled up on the floor in pain as dark red blood spread beneath me. “I’m bleeding… please come back…” He only gave a mocking laugh. “Addicted to playing the victim now?” Then he hung up. I signed the surgical consent form alone, staring at the pale white ceiling and thinking— So it turned out that even if I dug out my heart and held it in front of someone, in his eyes, it was nothing more than a clump of rotten mud blocking his path. Later, when I stood at the United Nations podium, I heard he had gone mad, clutching an old sofa and calling my name. But so what? Mud belongs where it rots.

Sophia Bennett POV The clock on the wall pointed to midnight. My third wedding anniversary with Ethan Whitmore ended just like that, in a deathly silent wait. The French dinner I had prepared with such care had long gone cold on the table, and the candles in the holders had burned out, leaving only a puddle of hardened wax. At last, the front door made the soft beep of a fingerprint lock opening. Ethan Whitmore walked in carrying the chill of early fall, and his well-tailored black suit still carried the faint scent of hospital disinfectant. I didn’t ask where he had been and simply stood up quietly, carrying the cold dishes into the kitchen. “You’re back. I’ll heat up the food.” “No need.” Ethan’s voice was low, with a trace of exhaustion. He walked to the dining table, did not look at the dishes I had prepared so carefully, and instead took a thin document from his briefcase and pushed it in front of me. Under the cold white light of the living room, I clearly saw the bold black words on the cover, Divorce Agreement. I froze in place, and my mind went blank for a brief moment. “What does this mean?” I heard my own voice trembling. Ethan looked straight into my eyes, his gaze deep but without a trace of warmth. “Vanessa Bennett is back.” Vanessa Bennett. That name was like a poison-coated needle, stabbing hard into my heart. Vanessa was my half sister and also Ethan Whitmore’s childhood sweetheart and first love. Three years ago, Vanessa left without a word on the eve of her engagement to Ethan in order to chase her so-called freedom, then flew far away. For the sake of their reputation, the Whitmore family forced the Bennett family to hand over another daughter as a replacement. That was how I became Vanessa’s stand-in and married Ethan Whitmore. For these three years, I hid every sharp edge of myself and did my best to be the perfect Mrs. Whitmore. I thought more than a thousand days and nights of companionship would eventually warm this stone. But now, Vanessa was back. “She has severe depression, complicated by serious heart failure.” Ethan’s tone was cold and brooked no argument. “The doctors said she has at most half a year left.” I stared hard at the divorce agreement, my nails almost digging into my palm. “So what? She’s sick, so you’re going to use my marriage as her treatment?” “Sophia, calm down.” Ethan frowned, as if he was displeased by my questioning. “Vanessa’s mental state is extremely fragile right now. Her only obsession is that she never got to marry me back then. If we don’t satisfy her, she could kill herself at any time.” “This is only a divorce agreement in name.” His tone softened, as if he was granting me some kind of mercy. “We’ll get divorced first, then I’ll hold a wedding with her and stay with her through these final six months. When she’s gone, we’ll remarry.” “Remarry?” It was as if I had heard the world’s biggest joke, and my eyes instantly turned red. “Ethan Whitmore, what do you take me for? Some object you can summon and dismiss whenever you want?” “Your Bennett family owed me from the start!” Ethan’s patience ran out, and his voice rose sharply. “If Vanessa hadn’t run away from the wedding, you never would have had the chance to become Mrs. Whitmore! You’ve enjoyed everything the Whitmore family’s resources and status brought you for these three years, and now that Vanessa is about to die, you can’t even endure this little bit of grievance?” My whole body went cold, as if I had fallen into an ice cellar. For these three years, I stayed by his side through the hardest power struggle at Whitmore Group, drank at business dinners until my stomach bled to help him, and went an entire month without a proper night’s sleep to care for him when he broke bones in a car accident. In the end, in his eyes, I had only been “enjoying the Whitmore family’s resources.” “What if I don’t sign?” I gritted my teeth and asked each word clearly. Ethan looked down at me from above, and his gaze was so unfamiliar it was terrifying. “Sophia, don’t force me to use other methods. You’re a smart woman, so you should know the consequences of angering me. Sign it, and I’ll give you enough compensation for these six months. The position of Mrs. Whitmore will still be yours in the end.” After saying that, he did not look at me again and turned toward the guest room, slamming the door shut. I stood alone in the empty living room, looking at the divorce agreement on the table. The edge of the paper was sharp, cutting my eyes until they stung. So it turned out that not loving someone simply meant not loving them. Even if I dug out my heart and held it in front of him, it still could not compare to a single tear Vanessa shed.

Sophia Bennett POV Early the next morning, before I had even woken from last night’s daze, the villa’s front door was pushed open. Several movers filed in one after another, carrying suitcases of all sizes into the living room. Vanessa wore a pure white dress, her face pale, looking like a fragile dodder flower as she leaned weakly in Ethan Whitmore’s arms. When she saw me standing at the stairway, Vanessa shrank back, and tears instantly filled her eyes. “Sophia… I’m sorry. I know it’s selfish of me to come back at a time like this, but I’m really so afraid of dying. I just want Ethan to be with me during my final days…” She cried so pitifully, as if she had suffered some terrible injustice. Ethan held her tighter in distress and comforted her softly. “Don’t cry. The doctor said you can’t get emotional. This will be your home from now on, and no one can drive you away.” After saying that, he raised his head and looked at me coldly. “Vanessa’s illness requires plenty of sunlight, and the master bedroom has the best light. Pack up your things today and move to the guest room on the first floor.” I froze in place, looking at him in disbelief. I had designed the master bedroom myself, and every piece of furniture and every painting inside had been carefully chosen over countless days and nights. It was the private space where Ethan and I had lived together for three years. Now, with one casual sentence, he wanted to sweep me out. “Ethan Whitmore, we’re not divorced yet.” My voice tightened, and I gripped the stair railing hard. “Sophia, don’t be mad at Ethan.” Vanessa tugged at Ethan’s sleeve and said considerately, “I can just stay in the guest room. I’m someone who’s about to die anyway, so it doesn’t matter where I stay…” “No!” Ethan cut her off sternly, and his gaze toward me grew even colder. “Sophia, did you ignore everything I said last night? Vanessa’s heart can’t take any stimulation. Will you only be satisfied if you force her to death?” Force her to death? I looked at the faint, barely noticeable smugness that flashed through Vanessa’s eyes and suddenly found it all absurd beyond words. I did not argue anymore and turned back to the master bedroom. I opened the closet and began mechanically stuffing my clothes into a suitcase. Ethan and Vanessa’s voices came from outside the door. “Ethan, I want cheesecake from that place in the East Village.” “Okay, I’ll have my assistant buy it right away.” “But I want you to feed me the cake yourself…” “Anything you want. Anything.” My hand suddenly froze, and a sharp pain spread through my fingertips. I had a serious stomach condition, and whenever it flared up and I had no appetite, Ethan would drive to the East Village to buy that cheesecake, then patiently feed it to me one spoonful at a time. I had once thought that was a tenderness meant only for me. Only now did I know he had simply taken a habit meant for another woman and used it on me in passing. In less than half an hour, my things had been cleared out completely. The movers rudely hung Vanessa’s clothes in the closet, pulled off the bedding I had carefully chosen, and replaced it with the pink lace Vanessa liked. I dragged my suitcase to the guest room on the first floor. The guest room rarely saw sunlight all year round, and it carried a cold, damp smell. I sat on the bare bed board, looked at the gray sky outside the window, and my tears finally fell silently. I had acted in this play called “marriage” for three years and fallen too deeply into the role. But Ethan Whitmore could call it to a stop at any time.

Sophia Bennett POV I was not only Mrs. Whitmore, but also a top-tier simultaneous interpreter in the industry. Next week, the G7 summit would be held in San Francisco. As the officially appointed chief interpreter, I had stayed up for half a month straight for this summit, compiling a thick stack of professional terms and background materials. This was the most important battle of my career. However, three days before the summit began, the director of the State Department’s Language Services Office suddenly called me into his office. “Sophia, the higher-ups have decided to replace the chief interpreter for this summit.” The director’s expression was a little awkward, and he avoided my gaze. I froze. “Replace me? Why? I ranked first in every assessment, and I’ve already finished preparing all the materials.” “It’s… it’s what Whitmore Group wants.” The director sighed. “Whitmore Group is the biggest sponsor of this summit. Mr. Whitmore personally gave the order and specifically requested that Vanessa Bennett serve as chief interpreter.” Vanessa? I felt as if I had been struck by lightning. Vanessa had indeed studied translation in college, but she had not even passed the most basic simultaneous interpretation certification, and she had spent the past three years traveling abroad. How could she possibly handle a summit at this level? “Director, this is an international summit, not a game! Vanessa has no simultaneous interpretation experience at all. If something goes wrong, the entire industry will be humiliated!” I panicked. “Mr. Whitmore said he’ll arrange for you to work as a ‘shadow interpreter’ in the backup booth.” Director Miller spread his hands helplessly. “If Vanessa gets stuck, you immediately cut into the channel and translate for her. Publicly, the credit will be hers. If something goes wrong, Whitmore Group will take responsibility.” All the blood in my body instantly went cold. Shadow interpreter. Ethan Whitmore not only wanted to steal my hard work, but also wanted to trample my dignity under his feet and make me like a ghost who could not be seen, serving as Vanessa’s stepping stone! I rushed straight out of the office and took a cab directly to Whitmore Group headquarters. Inside the CEO’s office, Ethan Whitmore was looking down and reviewing documents. With a bang, I pushed open the door and slammed the materials in my hand onto his desk. “Ethan Whitmore, what gives you the right to replace me?!” My eyes were red, and my chest rose and fell violently. Ethan did not even lift his head, and his tone was as flat as if he were discussing the weather. “The director should have explained it clearly to you. Vanessa’s dream used to be becoming a simultaneous interpreter. She doesn’t have much time left now, so I have to help her fulfill her dream.” “Fulfill her dream? By treating an international conference like some make-believe game?” I was so furious I laughed. “She doesn’t have the ability to sit in that position at all!” “That’s why you’re needed as backup.” Ethan finally raised his head and looked at me coldly. “Sophia, you’re still young. You’ll have plenty of chances to attend summits like this in the future. But Vanessa only has this one chance.” “I won’t go.” I clenched my teeth, my back straight. “My professional ethics do not allow me to be part of this kind of fraud. If you want to promote her, do whatever you want, but I will never be her ghostwriter!” Ethan’s gaze darkened instantly, and a dangerous aura spread around him. He stood up and walked toward me step by step, looking down at me from above. “Sophia, have you forgotten that your father’s company is still surviving on Whitmore Group’s funding?” Ethan’s voice was extremely low, but every word stabbed into my heart. “If you don’t go, Bennett Group will announce bankruptcy tomorrow. Guess whether your money-obsessed father will be so angry that he drops dead because of you.” My pupils suddenly contracted, and all the strength in my body seemed to be drained away in an instant. I looked at the man in front of me in disbelief. To make Vanessa smile, he was actually using my father’s life’s work to threaten me! “Ethan Whitmore… you’re truly despicable.” My voice trembled beyond control. A fleeting emotion flashed through Ethan’s eyes, but it was quickly covered by cruelty. “Say whatever you want.” He turned around, his back to me. “Nine o’clock Friday morning, report to the backup booth on time. Don’t disappoint me.”

Sophia Bennett POV Friday, at the G7 summit venue. Under the spotlight, Vanessa wore a custom business suit and flawless makeup, looking like a dazzling star as she sat inside the main interpreter booth. As for me, I was placed in the backup booth in the darkest corner of the venue, where not even the lights reached. The summit officially began. For the first ten minutes of polite greetings, Vanessa barely managed to get through. But as the meeting deepened and began involving a large number of obscure macroeconomics terms and complex long sentences, Vanessa’s breathing grew rushed, and her voice became halting. “Regarding… regarding under the quantitative easing policy… that…” The voice from the main interpreter booth paused for a full five seconds. Inside the venue, representatives from various countries frowned one after another, taking off their headsets and whispering to each other. Ethan Whitmore sat in the VIP seats in the front row, and his face darkened as well. At that critical moment, I closed my eyes in the backup booth, took a deep breath, and pressed the forced cut-in button. “Regarding the spillover effects of quantitative easing policies on emerging markets…” A cool, steady, flawless, and authentic voice instantly cut into the channel, perfectly bridging the earlier gap. The commotion inside the venue calmed down. For the next two hours, Vanessa was reduced completely to a decoration. She sat in the main booth with a deathly pale face, not even daring to touch the microphone. As for me, inside the dark backup booth, my brain ran at high speed as I translated every word from the speakers with absolute precision. The meeting ended successfully, and thunderous applause broke out across the room. Representatives from various countries gave thumbs-up toward the main interpreter booth, praising the outstanding performance of this “young interpreter.” Vanessa walked out of the interpreter booth with Ethan Whitmore supporting her, and facing the cameras flashing from the media, she lowered her head shyly. “Thank you, everyone. This is what I should have done.” Ethan gently wrapped an arm around her shoulders and said to the cameras, “Vanessa has always been excellent. I’m proud of her.” The door of the backup booth was pushed open, and I walked out with a pale face. The high-intensity simultaneous interpretation had drained all my energy, and my throat was so dry and hoarse that I could barely make a sound. I stood in the shadows and looked at the two people not far away, surrounded by flowers and applause, and my heart felt as if it had been stuffed with shattered glass, every breath bringing bloody pain. This was the man I had loved for three years. He had snapped my wings with his own hands, plucked off my feathers, and stuck them onto another woman. After the crowd dispersed, Ethan Whitmore walked toward me. He took a check from his suit pocket and handed it to me. “You worked hard today. This is one million dollars, your pay for being the backup today.” Ethan’s tone was strictly business. “Remember, I don’t want any media to know what happened today.” I looked at that light, weightless check and suddenly laughed. I laughed until tears came out, and my thin shoulders shook violently. “Ethan Whitmore, in your eyes, are my dignity and my professional beliefs only worth one million dollars?” I did not take the check and instead looked fixedly at him. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. Because I find it disgusting.” I turned around, straightened my back, and walked out of the venue step by step.

Sophia Bennett POV The constant high-pressure work and emotional collapse made my body send out a warning. For several days in a row, I felt nauseous, kept retching, and had no strength at all. After I went to the hospital for an exam, the doctor handed me an ultrasound report with a gentle smile on her face. “Congratulations, Miss Bennett. You’re six weeks pregnant. But your body is very weak, and there are signs of a threatened miscarriage, so you must rest and keep your mood stable.” I was pregnant. I looked at the gestational sac on the ultrasound report, only the size of a soybean, and tears fell without warning. I had waited for this child for three years. On countless intimate nights, Ethan Whitmore had once kissed my earlobe and said, “Sophia, have a child for me, one as beautiful as you.” Now, the child had finally come. A faint, weak hope suddenly appeared in the depths of my dried-up heart. Maybe the arrival of this child could make Ethan Whitmore come to his senses. Maybe, for the sake of the child, he would stop this ridiculous farce. I carefully tucked the ultrasound report close to my body and took a cab back to the villa. When I pushed open the door, the living room was filled with the rich scent of roses. Ethan Whitmore was directing the housekeepers as they decorated the dining room, and expensive red wine and Vanessa’s favorite French desserts were laid out on the table. When he saw me come back, Ethan immediately frowned. “Why are you back? Didn’t I tell you to stay at your parents’ place for the next few days? Vanessa performed very well at the summit today, and I’m celebrating for her. Your being here will affect her mood.” My heart sank little by little, but I still took a deep breath and walked up to him. “Ethan Whitmore, I have something to tell you. It’s very important.” My hand tightly gripped the ultrasound report in my pocket. “Whatever it is, say it tomorrow.” Ethan interrupted me impatiently and glanced at his watch. “Vanessa will be done with her shower and downstairs any minute.” “Just one minute!” I anxiously grabbed his sleeve. “Ethan, I…” “Sophia, are you two arguing?” On the stairs, Vanessa wore a silk nightgown, her face pale as she held onto the railing, looking like she might collapse at any moment. “Vanessa, why did you come down by yourself?” Ethan immediately shook off my hand, strode up the stairs, and scooped Vanessa into his arms. “I heard Sophia’s voice and was afraid she was angry with me…” Vanessa leaned in Ethan’s arms, then suddenly clutched her chest in pain and gasped hard. “Ethan… my chest hurts so much… I can’t breathe…” Ethan’s face changed drastically, and he roared at the housekeepers, “Get her medicine! Bring the car around to go to the hospital!” He rushed downstairs holding Vanessa, and when he passed me, I instinctively blocked him for a moment. “Ethan, listen to me. I’m pregnant…” “Get out of the way!” Ethan’s eyes were bloodshot, and he shoved me away hard. “Sophia, do you even have a heart?! Vanessa is having an episode, and you’re still here fighting for attention out of jealousy! If anything happens to Vanessa, I’ll never let you off!” I stumbled back several steps from the shove and slammed hard into the solid marble coffee table. The ultrasound report fell out of my pocket and drifted to the floor. Ethan did not even glance at it and rushed out the front door like a gust of wind with Vanessa in his arms. His hurried footsteps ruthlessly stepped over that ultrasound report, leaving a dark muddy footprint on it. I collapsed to the floor, and a faint sinking pain spread through my lower abdomen. I stared blankly at the dirty ultrasound report on the floor and suddenly felt that my earlier attempt to use the child to win him back had been so stupid it was laughable.

Sophia Bennett POV A sudden gale rose outside the window, and a rare storm poured down. I held my stomach, cold sweat soaking the clothes on my back. The sinking pain in my abdomen grew more and more intense, as if something was being forcibly torn away from my body. I struggled to get up, found my phone, and called Ethan Whitmore. The phone rang for a long time before it was answered, and the noisy background sounds of the hospital came through from the other end. “What now?” Ethan’s voice carried extreme impatience and exhaustion. “Ethan… my stomach hurts so much…” My voice was so weak it could barely be heard, with a desperate sob in it. “I’m bleeding… please, come back and save me…” The other end of the line was silent for two seconds. Immediately after, Vanessa’s weak voice came through. “Ethan, is Sophia angry with me again? Go back and stay with her. I can wait outside the emergency room by myself…” “Don’t talk nonsense. I’m not going anywhere.” After comforting Vanessa, Ethan gave a cold laugh into the phone. “Sophia, this pathetic act of yours is terrible. I didn’t use any force when I pushed you just now, so who are you pretending to bleed for?” “I’m not pretending… I really am pregnant…” I curled up on the floor in pain, blood winding down my thighs and staining the white wool carpet red. “Enough!” Ethan snapped harshly. “Vanessa is undergoing heart monitoring right now, and her life could be in danger at any moment. Can you stop your tricks for attention and act like a decent human being?” Beep—beep—beep— The call was mercilessly hung up. I gripped the phone tightly, listened to the cold busy tone, and the last trace of warmth in my heart went out completely. I did not call again. I used the last of my strength and dialed the hospital emergency line. The ambulance struggled forward through the storm, and by the time I arrived at the hospital, I had already fallen into a semi-coma from losing too much blood. Inside the cold operating room, the glaring surgical lights shone on my face. “The patient has a threatened miscarriage, plus extreme emotional distress and an external impact. The fetus can’t be saved. Prepare for a D&C immediately!” Cold instruments entered my body, but that tearing pain was not even one ten-thousandth of the pain in my heart. The next morning after the surgery, I lay alone in the pale hospital room. No family, no company. During rounds, the doctor looked at my bloodless face and could not help sighing. “Ms. Bennett, this has caused serious damage to your fertility. It may be difficult for you to conceive in the future. Where is your husband? Why hasn’t he come to stay with you?” “He’s dead.” I looked at the ceiling, my voice hollow without the slightest rise or fall. The doctor froze for a moment and tactfully did not ask any more questions. I took out my phone, and the screen showed a breaking news notification. Whitmore Group CEO Appears at Hospital Late at Night, Stays by Childhood Sweetheart’s Side, Suspected Wedding Bells Soon. The attached photo showed Ethan Whitmore sitting in front of the hospital bed, tightly holding Vanessa’s hand, his gaze so gentle it seemed it could drip water. I looked at that photo quietly and did not shed a single tear. Something inside my heart had died. When all expectations were crushed into mud, what remained was only bone-deep calm. I pressed the lock screen button and tossed the phone aside. Ethan Whitmore, between us, it was completely over.

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Twenty minutes before the Homecoming Gala started, Chloe’s designer dress zipper completely burst. Without hesitation, I swapped my perfect dress for her broken one. Clutching the fabric over my chest, I stumbled out of the backstage dressing room, wearing her ruined gown. Ethan Vance—the school golden boy I had been secretly head over heels for, and Chloe’s step-brother—suddenly took a few quick strides toward me. He draped his jacket over my shoulders. “Don’t move,” he murmured. Even Ryder Hayes, the star quarterback who’d spent half his life teasing me, stepped in front of me with a scowl. “Who did this to you?” I stood there, stunned. For a second, I actually thought they were finally worried about me. Until I looked up. Both of their faces instantly darkened. “Why the hell are you wearing Chloe’s dress?” *** **01** Ryder reached out and yanked the neckline of my dress upward. “Holy crap.” “Since when does a nerd like you try to go for the sexy vibe?” Ryder looked me up and down with an air of dismissive amusement, unable to resist scoffing. “Are you out of your mind? Isn’t this Chloe’s dress?” “How did it end up on you?” “Look, if you wanted a makeover, you should at least see if you can pull it off. But honestly—” He leaned in slightly. Dragging out his words, he mocked, “You look absolutely ridiculous in this, Summer.” I gripped the dress with white knuckles. If I wasn’t busy holding the front of the dress together, I would have punched him right in his perfect jaw. Then. A soft chuckle came from above me. It was a very light sound. As if he had heard a mild joke and was politely laughing along just to keep the atmosphere light. But to me, that chuckle sounded like thunder. It came from Ethan. The crush I had been shamelessly chasing for three months. I kept my eyes glued to the floor, biting my lip so hard it hurt. I forced myself not to snap back at Ryder like I usually did. I didn’t want to completely destroy what little dignity I had left in front of Ethan. But Ryder wasn’t used to my silence. “Whoa, what’s wrong with you today? No sassy comeback?” He reached out, mockingly feeling my forehead. “No fever.” His gaze drifted down. He looked at me with a smirk. “Stop hiding it. There’s nothing to see anyway. It’s not like you’ve got the curves for it.” “Did you honestly think wearing the school queen’s dress would turn you into her?” I trembled with pure rage. Tears blurred my vision. All I could see was a well-sculpted hand suddenly appearing in my line of sight. I slowly looked up. It was Ethan. The boy who usually avoided me like the plague. He reached out and yanked the jacket he had just put on my shoulders right back off. I was too stunned to react. It took me a few seconds to process it. “Wasn’t… wasn’t that for me?” I whispered, looking up at him expectantly. Ethan looked down at me. Seeing my rimmed, watery eyes, his Adam’s apple bobbed slightly. He averted his gaze, his face turning cold and indifferent. “Give this to Chloe,” he said flatly. “I don’t want her catching a cold.” “And—” “I get it,” I interrupted. I took the jacket, feeling utterly humiliated, and ran back into the dressing room. Through the heavy curtain, I could still hear Ryder’s lazy voice asking Ethan: “Hey, didn’t she look hilarious in that dress?” “You should’ve seen her in middle school. Her waist was way thicker than it is now.” “I can’t believe she actually tried to pull off the sexy look today.” I didn’t know what expression Ethan had on his face. But I heard his quiet, indifferent reply: “Yeah.” *** **02** I returned to the backstage dressing room, feeling hollow. When I walked in, I didn’t do what I usually did—rushing to Chloe with a flattering smile, gushing, *“Oh my god, babe, your makeup looks stunning today!”* Instead, I walked quietly to my seat. As usual, Chloe was surrounded by her clique of popular girls. I heard someone ask her: “Chloe, who is more obsessed with you? Your gorgeous step-brother Ethan, or Ryder, the star quarterback?” It was a question she got asked almost every day. She always acted shy and dodged it. But after everyone left, she would usually hold my hand and whisper, *“Don’t listen to them, Summer. My brother looks cold, but he actually listens to everything I say. I know you like him, don’t worry, I’ll help you get close to him!”* But this time, for some reason, I stopped in my tracks. I wanted to hear her real answer. Chloe smiled beautifully, her voice bright and sweet, dripping with playful innocence. “Oh, come on, that’s such a hard question.” “Ethan spoils me so much, but Ryder is also so sweet. It’s so hard to choose.” Someone teased, “But if you had to pick just one?” I stood there, watching Chloe twirl her hair, pretending to be troubled. “But they’re both so good to me!” “Ryder is always so mean to Summer, his own childhood friend… but he’s only ever gentle with me.” “And Ethan? Summer has been practically begging for his attention for three months, and he won’t even look her way… but he treats me so differently.” She sighed deeply, as if carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. “I can’t help it. I’m his only sister, even if we aren’t blood-related.” “I don’t want to make a choice and hurt either of them…” “As for Summer… well, let her keep running errands for me. She’ll do anything just to get close to Ethan anyway.” Just then, the photographer called for a group photo. Chloe shrugged at the girls, signaling them to head out. The moment her eyes met mine, she pouted slightly in annoyance. “Why are you still here?” “You shouldn’t go on stage looking like that.” “I was actually going to look for—” I tossed Ethan’s jacket onto her vanity. Looking straight ahead, I said coldly, “Take off my dress and give it back.” *** **03** She didn’t notice my change in tone. Assuming I had just been rejected by Ethan again, she gave me a couple of fake, sweet consolations. I ignored her completely. She nudged my arm. “Summer, I have to go to Ryder’s game this afternoon, so I won’t have time to finish my AP History research paper.” “The usual deal. You write it for me, and tomorrow, I’ll set up a study date for you and Ethan at the library.” Chloe smiled at me, confident I would agree. I stood up and said, “No.” “I have my own things to do.” Chloe bolted upright, staring at me in absolute disbelief. “Ryder hasn’t been bothering you lately, so forget him—but this is a private study date with Ethan!” “Summer, don’t tell me you don’t like him anymore?” I thought of the fleeting warmth Ethan had shown me earlier. My chest ached terribly. But the harsh reality of today made me realize, clearer than ever, that he felt absolutely nothing for me. “Yeah. I don’t.” With that, I walked out of the room. I spoke loud enough for her to hear: “I am done chasing Ethan Vance.” “And as for Ryder? I don’t need a single nice word from that jerk ever again.” Just as I reached the exit, Ryder’s mocking voice drifted over. “Wow, Summer. Look at you, talking big.” “Why don’t you go all the way and say you’re unfriending me? And that you’re never riding in my truck again?” “Great idea,” I interrupted, my face blank as I looked him dead in the eye. “Unfriending you sounds perfect.” Before Ryder’s face could transition from smug to furious, I turned and walked away. Not once did I look at Ethan, who was standing right next to him. Behind me, I heard Chloe’s annoyed voice, “Ethan, I’ve called your name three times. What are you staring at?” On my walk home, I realized how long it had been since I had experienced such peace. Usually, I was either busy finding ways to cling to Ethan, or Ryder was driving his pickup next to me, bickering and insulting me all the way. But today, it was quiet. The entire world felt like it belonged to just me. I began to think. Is it possible that my worth doesn’t need to be validated by anyone else? With that thought, my steps became lighter. On my way, I fed the stray cats. I helped the sweet old lady down the street fix her garden fence. I even guided a blind woman with her service dog past a construction zone. But when I reached my front porch, Ryder was standing there waiting for me. *** **04** Tonight was the night the varsity team won the state championship. Chloe had been excitedly talking about throwing a massive victory party for Ryder at the field. Yet, here he was, still wearing his varsity jacket, standing outside my door. He looked at my dirty dress. He instinctively opened his mouth to make a sarcastic comment, but forced himself to swallow it. Clearing his throat, he handed me a paper bag and said awkwardly: “Summer, I got you those loaded fries you love from that diner downtown.” “The line was insanely long.” “Here. Eat up.” The savory scent wafted through the air. Ryder put his hands in his pockets, trying to look cool, but his eyes kept darting to my face. I knew this was his version of an apology. He throws a bone. I take it. And we’re good again. But I didn’t want to play along anymore. Before I could say anything, my phone buzzed. It was Chloe on FaceTime. Her voice was bubbly and loud: “Summer! Did Ryder behave and apologize to you?” I didn’t answer. She continued, sounding playfully annoyed, “That boy almost drove me crazy. I casually mentioned in our group chat that I wanted loaded fries, and the second the post-game interview ended, he rushed to wait in line for them! He even brought them to my house. But my parents were home, so I didn’t dare go out. I told him to take them to you instead! Tell me, is his attitude sincere? If not, I’m ignoring him too!” I ignored her banter and caught the main point. I looked at Ryder. “Group chat?” “What group chat?” “Do the three of you have a separate group chat?” Chloe gasped over the phone, “Oh my god, sorry! My bad. Summer, don’t be mad, it was Ethan’s idea, he—” “It’s fine,” I said coldly, and hung up. Before Ryder’s face could pale further, I took the bag of fries and threw it right into the trash can next to the porch. Then, I slammed the front door in his face. After taking a long shower, I gathered everything related to Ethan into a large cardboard box. I walked out and threw the entire box into the trash bin. Even though I knew it was the right thing to do, my chest still throbbed with a dull ache. After a restless night, I walked out of my house the next morning. Only to find Ethan standing right next to my trash bin. He was frowning, staring blankly at the garbage. I didn’t know what he was thinking, and I wasn’t delusional enough to think he was there for me. I decided to treat him like a stranger and walk right past him. “Summer.” It was the first time he had ever called my name so softly. I stopped. He spoke in his usual calm, collected voice, “Chloe told me last night that you wanted to study with me at the library.” “She said if I didn’t agree, you were going to rally the girls to isolate her.” Ethan casually checked his watch, took a deep breath, and looked at me. “We have time. Let’s go.” My body went stiff. Ethan didn’t notice. He began walking ahead, talking casually. “Chloe is too innocent. She sees the world too simply and doesn’t have a bad bone in her body.” “She isn’t like you. You wear your emotions on your sleeve and say whatever trash comes to your mind.” “So, I hope you stop trying to exclude her. And I hope this is the last time you and I have to hang out alone—” I stared at his tall, straight back. It felt like waking up from a long, stupid dream. I quickly picked up my pace. Like a stranger, I walked right past him, leaving him behind. I thought to myself: My first love. On this ordinary Monday morning. Is officially over.

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Late at night, the high school alumni Snapchat group suddenly blew up. Someone had too much to drink and started a poll. [If you could bring one high school couple back together, who would it be?] In less than a minute, the votes were almost completely one-sided. [Serena and Ethan] Messages flooded the chat. “It was such a tragedy they broke up.” “If it weren’t for that misunderstanding, they’d probably have a kid in elementary school by now.” “Even after all these years, I still think they are soulmates.” Just then, Serena, who had been silent for years, finally appeared. She replied with only one sentence. “Sometimes, missing someone for a moment means regretting it for a lifetime.” The group chat instantly exploded with teasing emojis. But I slowly put my phone down. Because the man they were calling her “lifetime regret” was currently sleeping right next to me. Ethan Vance. My husband. And a man who had never loved me in our seven years of marriage. The notifications on my screen kept flashing. [Serena, are you staying for good this time?] Serena replied quickly: [Yes, I’m back for good.] That single sentence set the group chat on fire again. [Why isn’t Ethan in this chat? Does anyone know if he has a girlfriend right now???] [He’s a billionaire CEO now. He’s so busy every day, and there’s never been any gossip about him! He definitely doesn’t have a girlfriend!] [Wait, why did they break up in the first place?] [Serena went to Europe to study, and Ethan stayed. He didn’t want a long-distance relationship.] [Oh my god, now Serena came back, does that mean they still have a chance?] Serena didn’t confirm or deny it. A few seconds later, she sent a smiling emoji. [If it’s meant to be, we’ll meet again.] The chat filled up with flower and applause emojis. I quietly exited Snapchat and locked my phone. Beside me, Ethan was fast asleep. In our seven years of marriage, he had always been like this. Calm, restrained, and polite. He remembered every anniversary. He transferred money into our joint account on time every month. He accompanied me to visit my family. But he didn’t love me. Just as I was about to turn off the nightstand lamp. His phone suddenly lit up. A new message popped up on his screen. [I’m back.] There was no contact name saved. But I recognized the sender instantly. It was Serena. I turned my head to look at Ethan. His breathing was steady. He didn’t wake up. His long, elegant hand rested gently on my waist, just like it did every night. The wedding band on his ring finger pressed cold against the back of my hand. It was so cold it made my chest ache. My fingertips hovered over his phone. All I had to do was enter his passcode, and I could see their chat history. But a second later, I pulled my hand back. Ethan never hid his phone from me. Because he knew I would never spy on him. And because I knew. Even if I saw something, it wouldn’t change a thing. Back in high school, I had seen with my own eyes how deeply he loved Serena. Once, a girl from a lower grade secretly handed him a love letter. Serena ignored him for a whole day. After school, he chased her across half the football field. He stuffed his phone into her hands, a helpless smile on his face. “Are you jealous?” “I already rejected her friend request.” “If you don’t believe me, you can check my chats. Delete whoever you want.” Back then, Ethan only had eyes for one person. But now. He had locked all his warmth away. Dawn was just breaking. Before the alarm could ring, Ethan woke up. Almost instinctively, he reached for his phone on the nightstand.

Usually, he would get up early to workout for an hour. But not today. He just leaned against the headboard, staring down at his phone. The screen went bright, then dark, then bright again. It wasn’t until almost eight o’clock that he finally put it down, got up, and started changing. I acted casual and asked, “Are you going to the Alumni Reunion next week?” He paused while buttoning his cuffs. “Yeah.” We never had much to talk about. Despite sharing the same bed, I had only found out about the reunion from the group chat last night. Ethan hesitated for a moment. “Are you going?” I shook my head. To others, high school was a beautiful memory of youth. To me, it was nothing but humiliation I never wanted to recall. He didn’t push it. He just gave a faint nod. “Okay.” He probably didn’t want me there either. The moment the front door closed, I picked up my phone. The alumni group chat had already accumulated over two hundred messages, and they were all about Ethan and Serena. The rebellious billionaire heir and the beautiful, sweet straight-A student. The two of them together had always been the ultimate gossip topic. Serena finally popped up: “Just woke up. See you guys at the reunion next week!” Various members replied instantly: “Can’t wait to see you!” “Does that mean you saw everything we talked about last night? I thought you muted this chat long ago.” “I totally ship you and Ethan!” Serena replied with a cute cat waving emoji. “It’s fine. Actually, it was… pretty interesting to read.” Her words were vague and hard to read. Nobody pushed further. Instead, they moved on to the reunion: [By the way, is Ethan actually coming?] [The news says he’s been traveling abroad for business lately. He probably won’t have time for a high school reunion.] [The boy who used to climb over school walls and skip classes for Serena is now the mature, powerful CEO of the Vance Group.] [Who can even reach him anyway?] The group went silent for a few seconds. Then. Serena sent a message. [He’ll be there.] Someone immediately asked. [How do you know?] She waited a few seconds before replying. [He promised me.]

“Valerie.” Ethan stood at the bedroom door, fastening his cuffs as he reminded me. “Don’t you have plans at nine?” I quickly checked the time. 8:40 AM. I had barely slept last night, and I had actually forgotten to set my alarm. I didn’t have time to look at my phone anymore. I jumped out of bed. Today, I had planned to visit his grandmother at nine to help her with some gardening. I had a strict sense of time and was never late. Except for once in high school. It was a Monday. There was a massive pile-up on the highway, and traffic was deadlocked. I had jumped off the bus halfway and run all the way to the classroom, gasping for breath. The teacher for that class was extremely strict and hated tardiness. There was only one minute left. Ethan was walking ahead, staring at his phone, his pace leisurely. Just one step away from the classroom door, he suddenly stopped. He squatted down and began to tie his shoelaces slowly. It looked like he was waiting for something. He could have easily made it inside, but instead, he got locked out of the classroom with me. It wasn’t until I saw Serena panting as she ran up from behind us that I finally understood. He was waiting for her. In the living room, I looked back at him. Ethan was sitting at the dining table, sipping his coffee. An impulse suddenly took over me, and I wanted him to drive me. “Ethan, I’m running late. Are you busy?” In our seven years of marriage, this was the first time I had ever asked him for a favor like this. If he just said, “I’ll drive you.” I think I would have been happy for a very long time. But he just glanced down at his watch. “I’ll have my driver take you.” I froze for a moment. “Okay. Thank you.” “Thank you” was a phrase we used all the time in our daily lives. Thank you for the gift. Thank you for grabbing my coat. We were as polite as roommates who had lived together for years. We didn’t look like a married couple at all. Thanks to his driver, I wasn’t late. Grandma Evelyn was already waiting for me in the garden. She wore a sun hat, bending over to prune the roses. We had met in a community garden years ago. She loved flowers, but her children and grandchildren were always too busy to keep her company, so she always went alone. I went to that garden often too. She always said that even the most beautiful flowers needed patient care. Slowly, we got to know each other. We became close friends despite the age gap. Back then, I didn’t know she was Ethan’s grandmother. During our casual chats, she would only mention that she had a rebellious, troublesome grandson. Until one day, Ethan came to pick her up. “Valerie,” Grandma Evelyn waved her hand in front of my face. “What’s wrong? You seem distracted today.” I had cut several wrong branches. I snapped out of it and shook my head with a smile. She noticed my unusual behavior and asked, “Did you and Ethan have a fight?” I shook my head. Let alone fighting, we had never even had an argument. “Ethan is a bit emotionally clueless. I’ll give him a piece of my mind later.” Hearing the word “clueless” used to describe Ethan was almost funny. In high school, he was the crush of countless girls. He came from a wealthy family and was incredibly handsome. More than that, he was an absolute romantic. Before the winter formal, he had the entire lobby filled with white roses just because Serena once said they were her favorite. On New Year’s Eve, he didn’t go home just so he could set off fireworks outside the classroom window while she was studying. I had received white roses and watched fireworks before. But it was always because of Serena. My thoughts were a mess. Later, I married him. But I never saw that passionate side of Ethan again. As the breeze swept through the garden, a sudden realization hit me, explaining my unusual behavior since last night— I was afraid.

I had always been good at waiting. When I was a kid, I waited for someone to adopt me. Later, I waited for the last bus after my part-time shift ended. And even later. I waited for a husband who would never proactively come home to me. Out of habit, it felt like I was preparing to wait again. Wait for Ethan to rekindle his old flame with his first love. And then passively accept a divorce. My waiting in the past had always been numb and dull. But this time, I was terrified. A person has to be brave at least once. So, for the first time, I went to Ethan’s office building. On the way, I rehearsed the words in my head a thousand times. “Do you still love Serena?” “Do you plan to divorce me?” But I was stopped right at the lobby. The receptionist wore a polite smile. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Visitors must book an appointment a week in advance.” I wasn’t sure if Ethan wanted everyone to know about our marriage. So, I didn’t reveal my identity. I called Ethan. Just as the phone started ringing, I heard his familiar ringtone echoing from the elevator bank. Ethan was walking at the very front of a group. He looked at his phone, a puzzled expression on his face, seemingly debating whether to answer. I instinctively hung up. He didn’t seem to care much either. He deliberately slowed his pace, occasionally turning back to speak to someone. It wasn’t until he passed within four yards of me that I saw Serena, who had been blocked from my view behind him. Time had left no marks on her face. She still had that pure, innocent first-love face. She looked exactly like she did in the photos on Ethan’s old private Instagram account from eight years ago. She caught up and walked side-by-side with him. Her voice carried a hint of joy. “Oh? You haven’t changed your ringtone after all these years? It’s still my favorite instrumental piece.” Seventeen-year-old Ethan had been incredibly rebellious. He only listened to hip-hop, reggae, rock, and electronic music. But Serena was different. She loved instrumentals. Ethan’s taste in music had changed solely because of her. I suppose that was the mark love had left on him. Even today, the habit remained. Only after they walked away did the receptionist call out to me. “Ma’am, as you can see, Mr. Vance is already in a meeting. If you need to see him, you can make an appointment with the executive office.” I forced a smile. “Thank you. No need.” I felt so exhausted, and my eyes stung with unshed tears. I figured I just needed to go home and sleep it off. But the alumni Snapchat group kept buzzing. [Guess who I just bumped into at a restaurant? Ethan and Serena!] [Oh my god, are they really back together? The high school drama I’ve been shipping is finally getting a happy ending!] [@Serena, come verify this right now!] Serena posted a photo. A window seat, fine dining, and a man. His face wasn’t in the frame, but from the veins on his toned forearm, it was easy to recognize him. She replied: “This restaurant is amazing. Highly recommend.” She didn’t give a direct answer, but anyone with eyes could see it. I zoomed in on the photo, over and over again. Ethan had very beautiful hands, with distinct knuckles. I had held them countless times. I had also slipped his wedding ring onto his finger. My eyes kept drifting back to his left hand. His ring finger was completely bare. He had taken off the wedding ring he always wore.

Ethan came home very early. He didn’t come to our room immediately. Instead, he went to the balcony to smoke a cigarette. He had quit smoking the day we got married. But meeting Serena again seemed to have thrown him off balance. After his shower, he wrapped his arms around me from behind. Aside from when we were in bed, we had never had this kind of physical intimacy. He asked in a low voice, “Should we talk…” Talk about what? The divorce? My breath caught, and my body instinctively went stiff. “Never mind,” he changed the subject. “Why did you call me today?” Our saved phone numbers were practically useless. We only messaged on Snapchat occasionally and never called. I didn’t know what to say. And I didn’t have the energy to say it anyway. “Accidental dial? No wonder you hung up so fast.” He quickly came up with an explanation. That night, his kisses in bed were meticulous and unusually gentle. But I actually preferred his wild, unchecked side. At those moments, I could catch a glimpse of the seventeen-year-old boy he used to be. They say loving someone makes you childish. I had seen him playfully mess up his lover’s hair, laughing freely and wildly. I had also seen him stand up for her, fighting until he was bleeding. But in front of me, he never showed any emotion. He was always quiet and distant. Precisely because I had seen how he loved someone, I knew clearly that Ethan did not love me. I didn’t know what to do. I had no friends or family to confide in. Except Grandma Evelyn. That entire afternoon, I stared at the rose in front of me—the one I had carefully tended to, yet it had still withered. I had watered it, loosened the soil, and cut off the dead leaves. But when some flowers withered, no amount of saving could bring them back. I wondered if marriage followed the same rule. I asked softly, “Grandma, if a flower can’t be saved, what should I do?” She smiled. “Then don’t save it.” “Pull it out and make room for a new one.” She gently patted my hand. “Not everything is worth wasting a lifetime on.” Yes, I should just let it go. Autumn was coming. I didn’t swap out the clothes in my closet for the new season. My body wash was running out. But I didn’t stock up during the big sale like I usually did. I packed many of my clothes into cardboard boxes. Ethan looked at the half-empty closet, confusion in his voice. “Where are your clothes?” “I’m planning to donate them to the foster home.” I lied. I just didn’t want to be in a rush when I left, so I was preparing early. Even the speech to bring up the divorce had been rehearsed hundreds of times in my head. That night, he was working in the study. I stood outside, taking three deep breaths before failing to turn the doorknob. Ethan was sitting at his desk, holding his phone to his ear with one hand while rubbing his temples with the other. He looked exhausted, and his voice sounded incredibly soft. “Serena, I can handle the issues on my end anytime. It’s been too long, and I don’t want to wait anymore…” I didn’t have the courage to hear the rest. I quietly stepped back and gently closed the door. I felt so pathetic. Ethan was more impatient than me, yet he was much better at hiding it. Divorce was something I had to treat with absolute seriousness. I needed to be fully prepared psychologically and bring it up at the right time. But he didn’t care at all. Perhaps he was just waiting for the exact moment he and Serena officially got back together. Then he would notify me of the divorce and “handle” me. I was the one taking it too seriously. I had placed too much weight on this marriage of convenience. That night, I still brought up the divorce. I chose the most abrupt moment, using the most casual tone. As Ethan was passionately kissing my ear, I turned my head away, my face expressionless. “Ethan, let’s get a divorce.”

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At the dinner table, Julian, the exchange student my wife brought home, suddenly spoke in French. “Serena, you absolutely cannot tell Ethan about the pregnancy. Otherwise, he’ll probably kill me.” My wife, Serena, cut a piece of steak for him and chuckled softly. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell him. If I start showing, I’ll just make up an excuse to go on another business trip to France with you. We’ll come back after the baby is born.” Julian grinned. “Perfect. Then I’ll stay here for now and watch our baby grow.” Then Serena switched to English and turned to me. “Ethan, Julian just joined our company’s import-export department. I’m planning to have him stay at our place for a while. He’s been in France all this time and isn’t familiar with the city. Since you’re the head of the department, you should look out for him.” Julian raised his glass to me with a smirk. “Ethan, Serena said you’re amazing at your job but don’t speak any foreign languages. Let’s conquer the market for Serena’s company together.” No foreign languages? I had never told my wife that I actually spoke eight languages fluently. Since they were being this blatant, I didn’t see any reason to be polite.

If it weren’t for the faint, mocking smirk on Julian’s face, I would have doubted my own hearing. I stared at him. He hid his expression quickly. Serena, thinking I was refusing to drink with him, glared at me. “Ethan, where are your manners? Can’t you see Julian is raising a toast to you?!” I sneered. “Just because he toasts me doesn’t mean I have to drink.” “And bringing someone to live in my house without my permission? Do you even respect me as your husband?” Julian immediately put on a pitiful face. “Ethan, I know you mind me staying here, and you mind Serena taking such good care of me.” “But I just graduated and came back. My hometown is so far away, and I don’t know anyone in this city.” “Please don’t worry. Serena is just pitying me. Once I’m settled, I’ll move out.” “Move out? Absolutely not!” “You can stay here as long as you want.” Serena shielded him, turning to snap at me. “Ethan, when did you get so petty?!” “Every time your name comes up when I’m out with friends, I feel so embarrassed!” I gripped my glass, staring at her coldly. “Then tell me, what did you two just say in French?” “We…” A flash of guilt crossed Serena’s eyes, but she quickly found an excuse. “Julian is going to be in charge of our French clients. I was just practicing with him so he doesn’t get rusty.” “Ethan, are you overthinking again? Julian was literally just praising you!” Julian smiled. “Yes, Ethan. I was saying how experienced you are and how much I need to learn from you.” Listening to their blatant lies, my eyes grew colder. But I didn’t expose them on the spot. The price for betraying me shouldn’t be paid so easily. In the past, Serena had brought him home too. Back then, they were just acting a bit flirtatious. If I didn’t understand French, I would have never known they had already reached this disgusting stage. Six years ago. Serena was still struggling with her startup. When the domestic market was tough, I was the one who secured multiple major international clients for her. I was also the one who got her funding from the city’s largest conglomerate, the Sterling Group. Even though I spoke eight languages, I never spoke them in front of her. And what she didn’t know was… The former chairman of the Sterling Group was my grandfather. Before he passed away, his will stated that I could only take over the family empire after I turned thirty. I was thirty-two now. To help Serena with her business, I had delayed my return. Sterling Group had invested heavily in Serena’s company, holding a forty percent share. So, although my official title was just the head of her import-export department… In reality, Serena was working for me. I forced myself to calm down. I spoke quietly. “Since it’s just practice, please, go on.” Hearing this, Julian smiled at Serena. “Serena, I told you Ethan isn’t that petty.” Then, he switched right back to French. “Serena, is he always this easy to fool?” Serena glanced at me and smiled beautifully. “Always.” “Before you graduated, when I brought you here for an internship, he threw a tantrum because we were close.” “But a few sweet words, and he was completely fine.” “Do you remember that time we booked a room at the hotel and bumped right into him?” “I just told him we were booking it for a client, and he bought it instantly.” “At the end of the day, he simply can’t live without me.” Julian looked at me with deep amusement, continuing in French. “Serena, when we were rolling around in your bed at your place, I was so scared he’d suddenly come back.” “But based on what you’re saying, even if he caught us, he’d probably just make up an excuse to believe us, right?” “Most likely.” “When our baby grows up, I’m going to tell him bedtime stories about his clueless cuckold stepdad every single day.” They laughed together, looking at me like I was a clown. They kept flirting in French for a long time. I pretended not to understand a single word. Eventually, they seemed to lose interest. Serena switched to English. “Julian, I’ll take you to see the company this afternoon. You haven’t been back in a while.” Then she told me. “Ethan, go to the supermarket this afternoon and buy some high-end Western toiletries. Julian isn’t used to the cheap stuff we have at home.” With that, the two of them walked out. I calmly took my phone from under the table and stopped the recording. Then, I dialed a number I hadn’t called in a very long time. “Robert, I’m ready to return to Sterling.”

Hearing my voice, the person on the other end got incredibly excited. “Mr. Harrison! You’re finally coming back? When will you arrive?” “In a few days.” “First, help me investigate all of my wife’s travel records in France over the past two years.” “Of course, Mr. Harrison. Since Sterling holds a massive share in her company, she’s practically under our subsidiary. It will be incredibly easy to track her.” Very quickly, Robert sent me a file. “Mr. Harrison, here are all the records of Serena’s business trips to France.” I opened the document, my brows furrowing. Even though I was prepared for it, their shameless behavior still disgusted me. In the past six months alone, they had booked hotel rooms together more than a hundred times. This meant they spent more than half of their time sleeping in the same bed. On top of that, there were Serena’s spending records on Julian. Luxury watches, sports cars, designer clothes… It all added up to over $200,000. You had to realize, the net annual income of Serena’s company was barely a million dollars. “Mr. Harrison, do you want me to draft a divorce agreement?” “With this evidence, we can make sure she leaves with absolutely nothing. And from Sterling’s perspective, we can sue her for every dime she embezzled.” I closed the document and shook my head slowly, my eyes icy. “No rush. Let’s play with them first.” In the afternoon, I went to the store and then returned home. Just as I finished cooking, I heard the front door open. I quietly started the recording on my phone. Serena and Julian walked in laughing, looking at an ultrasound report, chatting in French. “Serena, our baby is so tiny right now. The doctor said he’s only the size of a little bean.” Serena smiled gently. “Then we will patiently wait for him to grow.” “Let’s eat first. We can look at the report later.” But as soon as she sat down, Serena noticed a set of utensils was missing. She frowned and looked at me in the kitchen. “Ethan, there are three of us. Why did you only set two plates?” “Get another fork for Julian!” I replied calmly. “I have no obligation to serve an outsider.” Hearing this, Serena slammed her fork onto the table. “Ethan! I’ve told you a thousand times, Julian is not an outsider!” I let out a cold laugh. “Right. You two spend so much time together, you might as well be sharing a bed already.” Serena’s face flushed with anger. “Enough! When are you going to stop with this pathetic jealousy?!” “Why can’t you learn some tolerance and maturity from Julian?!” I took off my apron and tossed it onto a chair. “Sorry, I can’t learn it, and I don’t want to.” Seeing my attitude, Serena bolted upright. Just as she was about to scream at me, the medical report slipped from her hand. It fluttered right onto the dining table. The words “8 Weeks Pregnant” at the bottom of the page were clear as day. And Serena had just spent the last six months on a business trip in France. The baby obviously wasn’t mine. Serena quickly snatched the paper away. Guilt flashed across her face, assuming I hadn’t seen the name on the report. “Ethan, don’t get any crazy ideas. I just went to check on my severe cramps. This report belongs to another patient. I took it by mistake.” I sneered in my heart, keeping my face blank. “Oh, really?” “But how come I remember your period just came two weeks ago?” She frowned. “It’s because of all the stress at the company lately! And because you keep picking fights with me!” Seeing my cold expression, she snapped. “What? You don’t believe me? Julian can prove it!” Julian quickly chimed in. “Ethan, Serena has never done anything to betray you. I can guarantee that!” I let out a soft laugh. “You?” “Yes, me.” “Who the hell do you think you are to guarantee anything?” Julian’s face turned incredibly ugly. Serena lost her mind completely. She picked up her fork and threw it right at my face. “Ethan, don’t you dare act so ungrateful!” “Don’t forget, every bite of food you eat and every drop of water you drink is paid for by my company!” “Apologize to Julian right now, or you can kiss your monthly bonus goodbye!” Behind her, Julian smirked triumphantly, though he put on a fake, polite voice. “Serena, don’t be mad. I won’t hold it against Ethan.” I wiped a splash of soup from my forehead and smiled with pure disdain. “I don’t give a damn about your bonus.” Without giving her another glance, I walked into the guest room. I unlocked my phone. “Robert, get me a copy of Serena’s medical records from the hospital today.” Within minutes, the file was sent to my Snapchat. The report read: *Serena Crawford.* *Two months pregnant. Fetus is healthy.*

The next morning, I arrived at the office. As soon as I walked into the breakroom, Julian approached me with a fake smile. “Ethan, things got a little heated yesterday. I wanted to apologize.” “After all, we have to work together to grow Serena’s company.” He poured a cup of piping hot coffee and handed it to me. I frowned and reached out to take it. But before my fingers could even touch the mug, Julian let go. The scalding coffee spilled all over my shirt. A burning pain instantly spread across my chest. I stared at Julian coldly. “Did you do that on purpose?” Just then, Serena walked in. Julian immediately looked completely wronged. “Ethan, if you have an issue with me, you can just tell me. I’ll change.” “But you shouldn’t burn yourself just to frame me.” “I know you don’t want me near Serena. I’ll keep my distance from now on.” Hearing this, Serena exploded. “Ethan! Throwing tantrums at home wasn’t enough for you?!” “Now you’re coming to the office and bullying Julian? Do you want to get fired?!” I looked at her. “He let go on purpose to burn me.” But she wouldn’t listen to a single word. “Shut up! Julian would never do something so childish!” “Get back to your desk! If I catch you targeting him again, don’t blame me for being ruthless!” As we turned to leave, Julian spoke in French again. “Serena, Ethan seems to hate me so much. Maybe I should just go back to France?” Serena replied in French. “Fine. If you don’t want to stay here, I’ll go back with you. I’ll book our tickets for tomorrow afternoon.” “But what about Ethan? You two are married…” “I stopped loving him a long time ago. If it weren’t for his work capabilities, I would have divorced him ages ago.” I felt a deep sense of disappointment. At this exact moment, the last lingering feeling I had for Serena completely vanished. I sent a text to Robert. “Inform Serena that there will be a shareholder meeting tomorrow.” “Have the legal team prepare all the evidence. I want her to realize just how incredibly foolish she is.”

Since I was planning to lay all my cards on the table, it was time to separate our assets. In the afternoon, I left the office early and went home to pack my things. I took our wedding photo off the wall and threw it straight into the trash can. When Serena came home with Julian after work, she saw my packed suitcases and the empty spot on the wall. Her brow furrowed. She screamed at me while I was cooking. “Ethan, what the hell are you doing?!” I turned around, my voice completely calm. “Serena, starting tomorrow, we are completely over.” “You can be with him.” “But the price you have to pay… you might not be able to afford it.” Serena let out a loud sneer. “So you put on this entire dramatic show just to say that?” “Who do you think you are? The CEO of Sterling Group?” “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. You’re just throwing a tantrum because you don’t want Julian staying here.” “But don’t worry, you won’t have to see him for long anyway.” “Our major shareholder, Sterling Group, just assigned us a one-year project in France. I already bought tickets for tomorrow afternoon. Julian speaks great French, so he’s coming with me.” “Keep crying and being jealous all you want. We don’t care.” “Now, hurry up and finish cooking. We’re hungry.” With that, she casually walked over to the sofa and started whispering in French with Julian again. When I brought the food out, I heard Julian ask. “Serena, once our baby is born, are you going to have to make one with Ethan too?” “If you do, our baby will have to share your love with someone else.” “He’ll get bullied, won’t he?” Serena scoffed. “Him?” “I would never have his baby.” “When I get back from France, I’ll tell him I want us to live a childfree life.” “You’ve been so patient and put up with so much these past two days. I’ll reward you tonight.” “Serena, you’re the best.” “But wait, is it safe to do that while you’re pregnant?” “It’s fine. We’ll just be gentle.” Just then, Serena saw me putting the dishes on the table. Her eyes glared at the food. “Ethan, I told you I hate chicken! Are you deaf?!” She glanced at the empty kitchen. “And why did you only make one dish? What are Julian and I supposed to eat?!” I replied flatly, “I already told you. I am not cooking for you anymore.” “If you’re hungry, figure it out yourselves.” Serena slammed her hand on the table and stood up. “Ethan, what the hell is wrong with you?!” I completely ignored her and sat down to eat my own food. Serena tried to march over and yell at me, but Julian held her back, comforting her in French. “Serena, don’t get angry. Be careful of our baby.” Serena forced her anger down, but she still glared at me coldly. “Ethan, why did you leave the office early without permission today?” “You broke company policy. Your bonus for this month is officially docked.” “Also, I need you to translate all the import-export documents tonight. I need them first thing tomorrow morning.” “Consider it making up for your unauthorized absence today.” In the past, Serena had told me I could come and go as I pleased. Now, she was using it as a weapon. Translating those files would take all night. She was clearly trying to keep me busy and get me out of the way. But I couldn’t be bothered to argue. Because tomorrow, everything would come to an end. “Fine,” I said slowly. I stood up, grabbed my suitcase, and walked out the door. Julian’s worried voice echoed behind me. “Serena, is Ethan running away from home?” Serena’s mocking voice followed right after. “He’s just throwing a pathetic fit. Trust me, he will deliver those translated files to me on time tomorrow morning.” “Though, I won’t even need them.” Then, she switched to French. “Now that he’s gone, let’s order some takeout. And then… I’ll give you your reward.” My footsteps paused for a second. With a cold smile, I walked out of the building. I didn’t go back that night. The next morning, I walked straight into the main boardroom of the Sterling Group. Robert stood behind me with a team of elite lawyers. Just then, my phone rang. It was Serena. “Ethan! Where the hell are you?! Where are the translated documents?!” I ignored the call. When she tried calling again, I blocked her number. A text message popped up on my Snapchat. “Ethan, how dare you ignore my calls! I’m going to fire you the second my meeting is over!” A few minutes later, the heavy boardroom doors opened. Serena walked in, smiling and nodding politely to the board members. But the moment her eyes landed on me sitting in the chairman’s seat, her face twisted in rage. “Ethan? I was wondering where you went. Why are you here?” “Is this a place you belong?” I looked at her and spoke in flawless French. “I’m just here to listen to the ‘important project’ Sterling Group supposedly assigned you in France.” “Are you going there to have Julian’s baby?”

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My dad, Sebastian Miller, was a total “saint.” When I was a kid, he made me give some bread to a homeless man down the street. The man grabbed me and groped me under my clothes. I ran home, sobbing hysterically. But Sebastian just shrugged it off. “So what if he touched you a little? He didn’t mean any harm. He just likes kids.” “We live in a civilized country. What could he possibly do to you?” When I was ten, Sebastian threw his back out. A neighbor came over, asking him to help move some heavy furniture. I felt bad for my dad, so I told the neighbor the truth about his back and politely declined on his behalf. When Sebastian found out, he locked me in my room and beat me with a belt for a whole day. “You ruined my perfect reputation!” “Saying that makes the neighbors think I’m just making up excuses to avoid helping them!” Later, a young thug named Mark Vance moved in next door. Sebastian forced me to cook meals for him and clean his filthy apartment. On my eighteenth birthday, I overheard my dad talking to the other neighbors. “I’m planning to have Kate marry Mark. With his background, he’ll probably never find a wife otherwise.” I confronted him immediately, but Sebastian pointed a finger at me and screamed. “You need to make sacrifices! I’m trying to build good karma for you!” “I’ve raised you for eighteen years! How long are you going to be a parasite?!” He locked me in a room with that thug. During the struggle, Mark drove a paring knife straight into my heart. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day the thug first moved in next door.

The neighbors were gossiping downstairs. “The new kid who just moved in, Mark? He always glares at people with those creepy, shifty eyes. It’s terrifying!” “He smells like a trash can. He’s eighteen, but does he even know how to brush his teeth or wash his face?” “Do you think he’s a criminal hiding out here?” “So scary. I’m staying far away from him.” I woke up with a gasp, cold sweat drenching my back. The horrific memories of my past life flashed vividly before my eyes. After Mark stabbed me to death, my soul hadn’t departed right away. I had to watch as Sebastian and Mark carried my cold body back to my room and forged a suicide note. When the local reporters came to interview him, Sebastian sobbed uncontrollably on camera. “Kate was always a troubled child. She took the tiniest things to heart.” “I raised her all by myself, and she just abandoned me like this. What am I supposed to do now?” People online flooded his comments with sympathy, calling me an ungrateful, selfish daughter. Sebastian seized the opportunity to start a TikTok account. He did daily live streams, crying about his tragic life while selling cheap products. He made a fortune. Thanks to the “saintly” reputation he had built over the years, whenever someone questioned his parenting, the neighbors rushed to defend him. “Sebastian is the sweetest man alive. He deserves every penny!” “What a wonderful father. It’s Kate who didn’t appreciate him.” “She’s gone, so why shouldn’t Sebastian make a living? Let the poor man be happy.” “It’s because of trolls like you that good people don’t dare to do good deeds anymore.” Sebastian didn’t just get incredibly rich; he became a celebrated local hero. My soul hovered beside him, watching it all. I couldn’t understand why my own biological father would cover up for my murderer. Until one day, I saw him whispering to a photograph of a woman. “Maria, don’t worry. I will take good care of your son.” “Not ending up with you is the biggest regret of my life. I will never let you down again.” That was when I realized the truth. Mark was the son of Sebastian’s first love, Maria, and her ex-husband. Maria’s ex-husband had died, and she had remarried into a filthy rich family. Terrified that her new billionaire husband would find out she had an adult son, she dumped Mark onto Sebastian. How utterly hilarious.

“What are you guys gossiping about?” Sebastian walked over, carrying a grocery basket. He smiled warmly. “Don’t talk about the poor boy behind his back. Life hasn’t been easy for him. We should help him out as much as we can.” One neighbor frowned and spoke up. “I’m not getting anywhere near him. The other day, my grandson saw him standing alone in the yard and tried to give him a lollipop.” “Mark literally shoved my grandson to the ground and screamed profanities at him. The kid is mentally unstable!” Sebastian’s smile faded into a disapproval frown. “Don’t say that. He was probably just having a bad day. Teenagers go through rebellious phases.” The neighbor opened her mouth to argue, but shrugged, too embarrassed to keep arguing with the neighborhood “saint.” Another neighbor, Bella, smiled and patted Sebastian on the shoulder. “Hey, Sebastian, my son absolutely loved those fried chicken wings you made last time. When are you making them again?” “What a coincidence!” Sebastian lifted his basket. “I was actually planning on making some today. I’ll send them over to your place later.” Bella nodded, taking his labor for granted. As soon as we walked through our front door, Sebastian tossed the grocery basket at me. “Kate, go fry those wings. Bella is waiting.” I glanced at him and said slowly, “Dad, last time you had me deliver those wings to Bella, she knew immediately that you didn’t cook them.” “I had to make up a bunch of excuses to cover for you. If you keep doing this, what will the neighbors say?” “Your perfect reputation will be ruined.” Sebastian’s eyes widened in panic. He quickly grabbed the basket back. “Fine, don’t worry about it. I’ll do it myself.” “Honestly, you’ve lived with me for so long and you still haven’t learned my recipes. What are you even good for?” I ignored his complaining and went straight to my room. My dad was a “saint” to the world, but his sainthood was entirely built on exploiting me. When I was five, he made me give bread to a homeless man who groped me and tried to pull up my skirt. When I cried and told him, he snapped, “What lies are you telling at your age?” “He just likes children. Why would he do that to you?” “You have a dirty mind to think of a poor man like that.” Whenever neighbors needed help, he agreed instantly. But once the door was closed, he dumped all the work on me while he soaked up their praise. In middle school, I was competing for a scholarship meant for low-income students. He forced me to withdraw my application. “We are poor, yes, but there are students who need that money way more than you do!” Afterward, he complained, “It’s all your fault we’re so broke. If you didn’t have to go to school, I wouldn’t be struggling so much!” Yet, he conveniently forgot that our poverty was entirely his own doing. When my parents got married, my grandfather gave Sebastian five thousand dollars. Back then, that was a small fortune. But to please his so-called “friends,” Sebastian lent the money to whoever asked, without even asking for a receipt. “Sebastian, I want to buy a motorcycle. I’m short five hundred bucks.” “Sebastian, my kid needs a laptop for school. You have to lend me the money!” When my mom found out and went to demand the money back, Sebastian’s friends literally beat her up and threw her out. Instead of defending her, Sebastian slapped her across the face. “You embarrassed me! You made me look cheap!” Later, in a desperate attempt to make the money back, he got hooked on gambling. After losing everything, the other gamblers mocked him. “Sebastian, you have nothing left to bet.” Sebastian grabbed a young me and threw me onto the poker table. “I still have Kate! If I lose again, she’s yours to keep.” My mom couldn’t take it anymore. She packed her bags and left when I was four, never to return. I never blamed her. Sebastian didn’t love her, and he was a terrible husband. She had no reason to stay in this living hell. I started working part-time jobs in middle school to help pay off Sebastian’s debts. I thought that after all these years of surviving together, we had some kind of father-daughter bond. But I was wrong. He didn’t just want to ruin my life; he actively helped Mark murder me.

“Kate! What are you daydreaming for? Answer the door!” A loud, aggressive banging interrupted my thoughts. I opened the door to find Mark standing there, scowling. Sebastian rushed over with a huge grin. “Mark! Come on in. Have you eaten?” Mark rolled his eyes. “Sebastian, my mom told me to come to you if I needed anything.” Sebastian’s face lit up with absolute devotion. “Of course! Whatever you need, I will—” “Give me a thousand bucks. I need it,” Mark interrupted rudely. Sebastian froze. After a brief pause, he turned to me. “Kate, go get that thousand dollars you saved up and give it to Mark.” I scoffed internally. I had been working non-stop, and only managed to clear the last of Sebastian’s debts last year. This year, I had finally saved up a thousand dollars. I was planning to use it for SAT prep classes. And my dad couldn’t wait to hand it over to his lover’s son. I gasped, putting on a shocked expression. “Oh my god, Dad! Why didn’t you tell me earlier? I just lent all that money to a friend.” Sebastian pointed a finger at me, screaming, “Kate! What is wrong with you?! How could you lend that much money without asking me first?!” “But Dad, didn’t you always say that people only borrow money when they’re in an emergency? There was no time to ask!” Sebastian choked on his words, his face turning red. I quickly added, “And Dad, my friends were so grateful. They said only a parent as generous as you could raise a daughter so kind-hearted.” “They said you’re a true saint. If I had said no, wouldn’t that make you look bad?” Sebastian’s mouth hung open, his face flushing crimson. Mark snapped impatiently, “Do you have the cash or not? If not, I’m calling my mom.” “Yes, yes, we do!” Sebastian stammered. He reluctantly pulled out his own wallet and started counting bills. Mark snatched the cash right out of his hand. Without a word of thanks, Mark turned to leave. Sebastian yelled after him, “Mark! At least take some sandwiches! You can’t skip meals!” He grabbed two sandwiches and ran after him, glaring back at me like I was a criminal. Just like in my past life, Sebastian started demanding that I cater to Mark’s every whim. His excuses were always the same: “We’re neighbors. You help him now, and he’ll help you in the future.” He knew I used to be soft-hearted, so he constantly tried to make me feel pity for Mark. “Poor Mark, he dropped out of school so young. What kind of future does he have?” “He and I are just men. We don’t have a woman’s touch. Just think of it as helping me out with some chores…” I smiled and nodded. “Sure, Dad.” Then, I took the food Sebastian made for Mark, picked out every single piece of meat, ate it, and left Mark with nothing but cold, plain vegetables. When Sebastian ordered me to clean Mark’s bathroom, I poured half a bottle of body wash all over the tile floor. Every other day, I would hear Mark screaming and cursing from next door after slipping and falling. I even caught some frogs and mice and slid them under his bedsheets. In my past life, I would have been terrified of those creatures. But now, I knew that human hearts were infinitely filthier than any pest. Three days later, Mark came over and kicked our door open. His face was contorted with rage. “Sebastian! If you can’t take care of me, don’t make promises to my mom!” “Is Kate trying to humiliate me on purpose?!” He got more and more worked up, spitting insults. “You useless, pathetic old simp!” That struck a nerve. Sebastian, losing his temper, gave Mark a light shove.

He didn’t expect Mark to completely lose his mind. Mark tackled Sebastian to the ground, pinning him down and punching him repeatedly in the face. Mark’s eyes were bloodshot, his face monstrous. Sebastian was terrified. He looked at me, screaming, “Kate! Help me! Call the police! Do something!” I stood three meters away, screaming in “panic.” “Stop! Please stop hitting him!” But I didn’t take a single step forward, making sure I was completely out of harm’s way. Sebastian’s face was swollen, and he could barely speak. He weakly grabbed Mark’s arm, mumbling, “Stop… stop… I’ll make… I’ll make Kate move into your place. She’ll take care of you twenty-four hours a day…” Hearing this, Mark stopped. He stood up, wiping the sweat from his forehead, and stared at me. His eyes ran up and down my body with a disgusting, slimy gaze that made me want to vomit. Sebastian dragged himself up, trying to act like nothing happened as he patted the dust off his shirt. “Kate, starting today, you do whatever Mark tells you to do.” “You have to take care of him perfectly. No slacking off.” “To make sure you do your best, you should start viewing yourself as Mark’s future wife.” “You know how a good wife is supposed to treat her husband, right?” “Be submissive. Take care of his laundry, his cleaning, his meals. Everything.” I burst out laughing. “I’m so sorry, Dad,” I said, dripping with fake regret. “But I just got approved for the school dorms. I’m moving out tomorrow.” His face contorted with anger, but I cut him off before he could yell. “The boarding fee is non-refundable. I already paid it.” “And if I suddenly back out, the school administration will want to know why.” “I can’t exactly tell them that my dad is forcing me to drop out to be a live-in maid for a random eighteen-year-old guy, right?” “If I say that, what would people think of you?” Sebastian’s face turned a violent shade of purple. He pointed a trembling finger at me. “Kate… you… you’re talking back to me now?!” I added with a sweet smile, “Dad, you’ll have to take great care of Mark yourself. To show your ultimate devotion, maybe you should start acting like his real dad.” I meant it as a sarcastic jab, but to my horror, Sebastian froze. A creepy, blissful smile slowly spread across his face, as if he was daydreaming about that exact scenario. I was completely speechless. That very night, I packed my bags and moved straight into the school dorms. As I walked out of the apartment complex, I noticed the door next door was cracked open. In the shadows, Mark’s hostile, snake-like eyes watched my every move. Once I was at school, I threw myself into my studies. I wanted to change my destiny. I put my revenge on hold for a moment. I wanted to build my own strength before destroying them completely. But they just couldn’t wait to deliver themselves to my doorstep. The next week, when the homeroom teacher introduced the new transfer student on the podium, I saw Mark standing there. I knew I couldn’t wait anymore.

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“My mom’s blood pressure is acting up. I’m taking her to Miami for a week to relax. Signal might be bad there, so just WhatsApp me if anything comes up.” My husband, Robert, didn’t even look back as he stuffed some shirts into his suitcase. I was crouching on the floor, searching for his razor. I nodded. “Got it. Did you pack everything Catherine needs?” “Yeah, all set,” he replied quickly. I handed him the razor. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the bottom of his suitcase. It wasn’t Catherine’s blood pressure medication—I had bought that two days ago and left it on the living room table. It was a box of prenatal vitamins. My mind went completely blank. I wasn’t pregnant. We had been trying to conceive for two years. Every time it failed, Robert would comfort me, telling me not to rush and just let nature take its course. So, who was that box of prenatal vitamins for? “Where’s Alice?” he asked, zipping up his suitcase. “In her room, playing with Legos,” I said, standing up. He walked over, kissed our daughter Alice on the forehead, grabbed his suitcase, and walked to the door to change his shoes. “Robert,” I called out. “Yeah?” “Safe travels. Take good care of your mom.” I stepped forward, gently straightening his collar with a warm, gentle smile. “I will. Stop worrying,” he smiled, opened the door, and left. The moment the door clicked shut, my smile vanished. I grabbed my phone and opened my smart home security app. Last night, I had whispered to our smart camera, “Robert, I love you.” The camera had caught the keyword “Robert” and automatically triggered a ten-minute cloud recording. I had stumbled upon this hidden feature a few days ago while playing around with Alice. Last night, thinking I was fast asleep, Robert had made a call in the living room. I tapped on the video. On the screen, Robert spoke in a low voice, his tone filled with a tender affection I had never heard before. “Babe, I’m flying out tomorrow. The yacht party is all set… Her?” “I told her I was taking my mom to a retreat. She bought it. She’s idiotically gullible… Don’t worry.” “Once the company goes public and stabilizes in a couple of years, I’ll divorce her. Then, you and the baby can take your rightful place… What?” “Of course it’s a boy. I had someone check. It’s definitely a son…” The woman on the other end of the screen was Juliet. She was his business partner’s daughter, twenty-two, fresh out of college. At last month’s company gala, she had sauntered over to Robert with a champagne flute in hand. Robert had introduced us: “This is my wife, Angela.” Juliet had looked me up and down, her eyes practically overflowing with contempt and provocation. She had smiled and said, “Angela is so lucky. Robert is a business genius.” Looking back, that wasn’t a provocation. It was a declaration of war. I closed the video, downloaded the footage, and forwarded it to my private email. Once that was done, I walked into Alice’s room. “Alice, do you want to see Grandma and Grandpa?” “Yes!” Alice’s eyes lit up. “Okay, Mommy’s taking you there right now.” I didn’t cry. I didn’t even feel a speck of rage. Robert, you probably think I’ll cry, scream, and call you up to interrogate you like a crazy woman, ruining your peace. You’re dead wrong. The storm you’ve brought upon me—I will return it to you ten times worse. I’m not the one who’s going to exit this stage. You are.

On the way to my parents’ house, I made two calls. The first was to Catherine. “Catherine, it’s Angela.” “Oh, Angela. What is it?” Catherine’s voice was lukewarm. “Nothing much. Just wanted to check on you. How have you been feeling? Is your blood pressure any better?” “Same as usual. You know how it is.” “Oh, then get some rest. Robert said things are crazy at the office this week, so he won’t be able to drop by.” My tone was perfectly casual. “He’s busy? He just WhatsApped me this morning saying he was taking you to Miami for a trip!” Catherine’s voice spiked. I sneered inwardly. Bravo, Robert. Lying to both sides and too lazy to even coordinate the stories. “Oh? Maybe I misremembered,” I said quietly and hung up. My second call was to my college mentor, Coleman, who was now a top forensic accountant. “Hey, Coleman. It’s Angela.” “Angela! Haha, you completely vanished after graduation. What made you think of me today?” “Coleman, I need a favor. I need you to audit a company’s books. FutureCraft.” The other end went silent for a moment. “FutureCraft? Robert’s company? Did… something happen between you two?” Coleman knew that FutureCraft’s seed money had come from me. I had invested $50,000 of my own savings from three years of working, plus another $50,000 from my parents—$100,000 in total—to launch Robert’s dream. Robert was registered as the legal owner, but I held a signed founders’ equity agreement giving me 49% of the shares. But to protect his precious male ego, that agreement had never been made public or officially registered with the state. “Yes,” I uttered a single word. “Understood,” Coleman got it instantly. “Send me everything you have. I’ll get my team on it.” “Don’t worry. If I don’t strip his accounts down to the bone, my name isn’t Coleman.” “Thank you, Coleman.” I hung up. I compiled all of FutureCraft’s documents, bank statements, and my personal suspicions about their business model into an email and sent it over. My degree was in finance. Although I had sacrificed my career for my family, my expertise hadn’t rusted. I had suspected for a while that FutureCraft’s books were off. Some of their profit growth made zero logical sense, but I had chosen to trust him. Now I realized my trust was just the umbrella shielding him while he drained our marital assets. When I arrived at my parents’ place, I handed Alice over to them and locked myself in the guest room. I opened my laptop and logged into our joint investment account. It held $300,000 in cash—our savings from the past few years. Without a second thought, I began transferring the money. I quickly routed half of it—$150,000—through several different channels into an account under my parents’ names. While transferring marital assets during a marriage carries legal risks, Robert’s child with Juliet was practically on the way. I didn’t have time to wait for standard procedures. I had to strike first. The other half, I left untouched. With that done, I fired off an email to Mandy, a fierce divorce attorney. Subject: Divorce Consultation – Request and Preliminary Evidence of Infidelity. Mandy replied almost instantly: “Mrs. Angela, the evidence is preliminary but highly targeted.” “Come to my office tomorrow morning at ten.” “Will do.” I shut my laptop and walked out. My parents were playing with Alice. Seeing me come out, my mom asked worriedly, “Angela, did you and Robert have a fight?” “Mom, I’m getting a divorce,” I said calmly. My parents froze in shock. I told them everything I had found, including the security footage. My mom was shaking with rage. “That absolute pig! I knew he looked untrustworthy from day one!” My dad was calmer. He patted my shoulder. “Angela, don’t be afraid. Your mother and I have your back. What do you need us to do?” “Just take care of Alice. I’ll handle the rest.” I stared out the window. Robert, your seven-day tropical getaway is my seven-day war preparation. When your little yacht party ends, the trial I’ve prepared for you will begin.

The next morning, I showed up at Mandy’s office right on time. Mandy looked over the video and the financial transfer records I brought, her brow furrowing slightly. “Angela, you’re bold, but this was highly risky,” she pointed at the transfer records. “Moving this $150,000 could be used against you in court.” “I know,” I nodded. “But if I didn’t move it, the moment he suspects something, I won’t get a single dime.” “If he can secretly father a child behind my back, he can easily launder all of our money.” Mandy gave me an appreciative look. “You’re incredibly sharp. What are your demands?” “First, a divorce.” “Second, sole custody of Alice.” “Third, the assets.” I pulled out the founders’ equity agreement I had kept locked in my safe for years. “FutureCraft’s starting capital of $100,000 was entirely funded by my pre-marital assets.” “Here is the agreement, signed and thumbprinted by both of us.” “My demand is to reclaim my 49% shares or their equivalent cash value.” “As for our joint marital assets, since he’s the cheating party, I want seventy percent.” Mandy’s eyes lit up as she scanned the agreement. “This agreement… is it authentic?” “Absolutely.” “And what about the dividends Robert paid you over the years?” “None,” I laughed bitterly. “He said the company was in a growth phase and needed capital. He asked me to be understanding.” “I only got a so-called household allowance of $2,000 a month, and I had to show him the receipts.” Mandy’s face darkened. “What a scumbag.” “Angela, with this agreement, we hold a massive upper hand.” “The only hurdle is proving that the initial $100,000 came solely from you, and figuring out how to liquidate that 49% share.” “I kept the bank transfer records from back then,” I said. “As for liquidating… I don’t just want the money. I want the company.” Mandy was stunned. “You want the company?” “Yes,” I said, my gaze steady. “From the core idea to the business model, I designed FutureCraft. He was just the executor. Now that he’s betrayed me, I’m taking back what’s mine.” “That’s going to be hard,” Mandy said. “He’s the legal owner and holds a 51% stake.” “Even if we prove your equity, you’re only the second-largest shareholder. You won’t have decision-making power.” “No,” I shook my head. “He doesn’t just hold 51%.” I opened my phone and showed Mandy the report Coleman’s team had sent me overnight. “To dilute my shares, Robert ran two rounds of funding over the past two years.” “But in reality, the investors were shell companies he registered himself. The money used came from our joint marital savings.” “He used our money to buy shares in our company, making himself a 70% majority shareholder.” Mandy gasped as she read the report. “This man is ruthless. He calculated everything.” “So, Mandy,” I looked at her. “I want to sue him for embezzlement and asset dissipation.” “I want him to spit out every single share he illegally acquired.” “Once he does, I will hold 49%, and he’ll be left with less than 30%. Who do you think will control the company then?” Mandy’s eyes flashed with excitement. “Angela, you are the most brilliant client I have ever represented.” “I am going to win this case for you beautifully.” “I only have one request.” “Go ahead.” “I want to deliver the fatal blow when he least expects it, right at his peak of glory.” Mandy smiled. “Message received.”

Over the next few days, Coleman’s team worked with terrifying efficiency. By the third day, they had delivered a complete forensic report and the entire chain of evidence. Every bank transfer, every shell company’s registered owner—everything was laid bare. Meanwhile, Mandy used this evidence to file for an emergency asset freeze. The court froze all of Robert’s bank accounts, equity, and real estate. Over in Miami, Robert must have realized his credit cards were getting declined and his accounts were locked. I could easily picture him throwing a tantrum. Sure enough, on the fifth day, he finally called me using Juliet’s phone. “Angela! Have you lost your mind? What the hell did you do to me?” The moment I answered, he started screaming. I pulled the phone away from my ear, keeping my voice cold and flat. “Aren’t you supposed to be at a retreat with your mom? How do you have time to call me?” “Cut the crap! Why are my cards frozen? Did you touch our money?” “Our money?” I let out a soft laugh. “Robert, why don’t you calculate how much of ‘our’ money you channeled to your fake investors?” “How much of ‘our’ money did you spend on Juliet’s bags, her car, and that yacht party?” The line went dead silent. After a long pause, he asked in sheer disbelief, “…How do you know about that?” “I don’t just know about that. I know she’s pregnant with your child,” I said, chillingly clear. “Robert, I’m giving you one week to drag yourself back from Miami and sign the divorce papers.” “You walk away empty-handed, and I’ll pretend none of this happened.” “Otherwise, get ready for a court summons and an arrest warrant.” With that, I hung up. I knew he would come back. Because Juliet’s father, Scott—the business partner who treated Robert like a son-in-law—was also on the CC list of the forensic audit report. Right now, Robert was facing a triple threat: his love life, his career, and the law. And this was just the warm-up.

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My dad is the richest man in Los Angeles, but my monthly allowance is only fifty dollars. My mom always told me that my dad despised me because I was born with a minor physical defect. She said he left a signed divorce agreement and vanished when I was only six years old. From that day on, I never saw him again. That was until I saw him on the news, splurging a hundred million dollars to buy a luxury skyscraper for his new son. For all these years, my heart was filled with nothing but hatred. I was his child too. Why did he treat me like trash? But one day, I ran into my dad’s new son. The very first thing he said to me was: “Where have you been all these years? Dad has been searching everywhere for you.” “Hey, sweetie, your meal card has insufficient funds.” The cafeteria lady, Mrs. Gable, poked her head out after the register beeped loudly. I froze. I had just realized this month had thirty-one days. The money I saved from my part-time job was only enough to cover thirty. I offered an awkward smile. “That’s fine, Mrs. Gable. I’m actually on a diet today. Just the plain rice is fine.” Mrs. Gable saw right through my embarrassment. A look of pure pity softened her face. “Oh, honey, look at you! You’re skin and bones. What diet?” She sighed, scooped a massive ladle of rich savory gravy, and poured it over my rice. “Next time you’re short on cash, just whisper to me. I’ll slide a chicken drumstick under your tray.” Looking at her kind gesture, my throat tightened. Why was it that a complete stranger knew how to show me mercy, while my own biological father had never given me a single thought? My best friend, Price, walked back with his tray. When he saw nothing but plain gravy and rice on my plate, he slammed his fist on the table in frustration. “I’m telling you, Hart, you need to go to your dad’s corporate headquarters and make a scene!” “The guy is the richest man in LA, and his own son is literally starving to death!” “I seriously want the world to see what a hypocrite that ‘philanthropist’ really is behind closed doors!” I was used to this kind of life, but his words still brought a wave of bitterness to my chest. If the university didn’t have a free basic pantry for low-income students, I really would have starved by now. Ever since my parents divorced, my mom had completely fallen apart. She spent her days drinking herself into a stupor at home, burning through what little savings we had left on cheap gin. Once, a neighbor couldn’t stand it anymore and tried to intervene. “Samantha, you can’t keep living like this. Your son is so young. You have to pull yourself together and raise him!” “Look at the boy, he’s so thin a gust of wind could blow him away!” But my mom just slumped on her bed and screamed at the neighbor. “If it weren’t for this mistake of a kid, my husband would have never abandoned me!” “He was born broken! Even a stray dog would look down on him!” “You want me to raise him? In his dreams!” Back then, as a little boy, I didn’t understand why she was so angry. But I could read her expression. The only reason my mom had degenerated into this miserable state was because of me. If I hadn’t been born, or if I had been a perfectly healthy boy, her life would have been beautiful. During the rare moments my mom was sober, she would show me old photographs. “Look how much your father loved me back then. He took me traveling all over the country.” “He wouldn’t let me lift a finger. He did all the cleaning and dishwashing himself!” “Even when he worked until midnight, he’d still come home and cook me gourmet meals. He acted like he never knew what tired meant!” Looking at the happy, loving couple in those faded photos, a seed of guilt was planted deep in my young heart. This was all my fault. I had to do whatever it took to make it up to her. Since the moment I was old enough to walk, I did odd chores for neighbors to earn spare change. They pitied me and often gave me groceries to take home. That was how I managed to grow up, surviving on the charity of kind neighbors. Once I got into college, I worked three part-time jobs a day after classes. But my mom forced me to hand over almost every penny to ‘repay’ her. I was left with only fifty dollars a month for myself.

I barely kept myself alive with the university’s financial aid. I had accepted my reality. That was, until the day I saw the news about my dad on the campus TV. [Vance Enterprises CEO, Phillips Vance, splurges $100 million to build a luxury skyscraper for his six-year-old son, Jackson.] For the first time in my life, a massive sense of unfairness washed over me. With tear-filled eyes, I asked my mom. “Mom, if Dad has so much money… why hasn’t he come back to see me even once?” “Does he really not have a single shred of affection for me?” My mom sneered. “Why do you think? He hates you more than anything in this world.” I quickly shoved the rest of the rice into my mouth. I had to rush to my next gig. I had recently landed a part-time job tutoring an elementary school kid in English and essay writing. The pay was triple what I made washing dishes at the diner, so I absolutely could not be late. Price frowned, his eyes filled with worry. “Hart, can your body even take this?” “Why don’t you take a day off? If you keep going like this, I’m afraid you’re going to collapse…” I didn’t stop. I kept packing my things, coughing as I swallowed the rice too quickly, my face turning red. I pounded my chest to force the food down, then spoke quietly. “I can’t rest, Price. If I stop, how is my mom going to survive?” Hearing this, Price’s anger flared, his voice rising. “Your mother is unbelievably selfish!” “How can she force a college freshman to pay for everything?” “Does she even care about your health?!” I just gave him a helpless, tired smile. “I owe her my life.” For all these years, I had lived in a constant state of self-blame. If it weren’t for me, my mom wouldn’t be living in this misery. So, I had no right to complain. After riding three different buses, I finally arrived at my destination. It was a massive mansion nestled halfway up a private hill in Bel-Air. I had to hike up a steep incline for thirty minutes just to reach the front gate. A middle-aged man dressed in a sharp suit—the butler—walked out with a polite smile. “Are you the new tutor?” I wiped the sweat from my forehead and nodded. He led me inside, and the sheer opulence of the estate blew my mind. Even the golden retriever in the yard had its own two-story, air-conditioned dog house. The butler took me into a grand study and handed me a glass of ice water. “Please wait here for a moment. I’ll go fetch the young master.” I pulled out the textbooks I had prepared. Before I could even place them on the desk, a little boy burst into the room. He grinned, showing two adorable dimples. “Hi, Mr. Tutor!” I was relieved. The children of the ultra-rich could actually be this polite. My anxiety melted away. I patted his head gently. “Hi there. You can just call me Hart.” The boy gasped, jumping up and down excitedly. “Hart! My last name is Vance too!” “I’m Jackson Vance!” My smile instantly froze on my face. Jackson. I had heard that name on the news. He was the boy for whom my father had built a $100 million tower. The boy standing in front of me was my father’s new son. This was my father’s house. Panic seized me, and I stood there completely paralyzed, not knowing what to do. My hands shook violently. Years of repressed hatred, sorrow, and abandonment issues rushed to the surface. I wanted to run out of the room, find Phillips Vance, and scream in his face. Why did you treat me like trash? Why did you leave me and Mom to rot?! But my rational mind kicked in. Acting on impulse would only make him despise me more. Plus, I would lose this high-paying tutoring gig. I needed this money to survive. Taking a deep breath, I decided to pretend I knew nothing. I sat down and started the lesson. Two hours flew by. Jackson was incredibly well-behaved and highly intelligent. We got along perfectly, talking like old friends. He didn’t have a single drop of spoiled attitude. As I packed my books and assigned him some homework, Jackson suddenly tugged at my sleeve. He looked around conspiratorially. “Hart, I don’t really have any friends. You’re my only friend!” “Can I tell you a secret?” I blinked. I was surprised that a kid living in a palace had no friends, and even more surprised that he chose to trust me. But I knelt down and patted his head. “Sure. What is it?” Jackson leaned in and whispered in my ear. “I actually have an older brother. Dad has been searching for him for years.” “But he can’t find him. So, when I grow up, I’m going to help Dad find my big brother!” My mind went completely blank. “What… what did you say?”

Searching for me all these years? How is that possible? I couldn’t believe my ears. Jackson didn’t notice my shock and kept chatting. “Yeah! I have a big brother, but I’ve never met him.” “Dad says he was the sweetest baby. But over ten years ago, Dad’s ex-wife took him and ran away.” “Dad has spent so much money looking for him, but we just can’t find him.” My head spun. There were too many contradictions. Why did my dad say my mom ran away with me? Back then, it was my dad who left the divorce papers and disappeared. My mom had spent the last twelve years drinking herself to death because of his abandonment. Who was lying? Seeing that I wasn’t responding, Jackson dragged me to another room down the hall. He pointed at a beautifully decorated bedroom. “This is the room Dad kept for my brother! He said when my brother comes back, he’ll have his own place.” “Dad said my brother’s favorite color is orange, so the whole room is orange!” “I even helped pick out the curtains! Pretty cool, right?” I swallowed the lump in my throat and stepped inside. On the desk, there was a slightly faded, framed photograph. It was a picture of my father, looking much younger, holding me as a toddler on a sunny lawn. Suddenly, a warm, gentle voice came from the doorway. “That’s my husband’s son from his first marriage. He was such a beautiful boy, wasn’t he?” “Sigh, it’s a heartbreaking story.” “No matter how much money Phillips wired to his ex-wife, she refused to let him see the boy even once.” “Just last month, Phillips wired another two million dollars to her for the boy’s college fund.” “We don’t know how he is doing now. Phillips hasn’t slept a peaceful night in over ten years.” I turned toward the voice. A kind-faced, elegant woman was standing there. This was Clara, my father’s new wife. My mind reeled. Two million dollars? Last month? If my dad had been sending millions of dollars, why was my mom forcing me to work three jobs? Why did I only have fifty dollars a month for food? I remembered when I had a high fever in high school, and we ‘couldn’t afford’ antibiotics, so I had to sweat it out, shivering in bed for a week. Why did my mother lie to me all these years? I wanted to scream the truth right there—to tell them that I was that lost son. But I had to keep my head. I had to find out what really happened. Why did my mother make my life a living hell? I didn’t reveal my identity. I made an excuse and quickly left the mansion. I requested a week off from my college classes and took the bus straight back to our dingy apartment. The moment I opened the door, the stench of cheap liquor and stale smoke hit my face. My mom was slumped on the couch, surrounded by empty bottles. Seeing me home early, she didn’t hesitate to hurl a beer bottle right at my head. “Why the hell are you home?! Aren’t you supposed to be washing dishes at the diner?!” “Are you trying to starve us next month?!” “If you don’t bring home your check, I’ll kick you out! This is all because of your laziness!” “You remember this: my life is ruined because of you!” “You owe me for the rest of your miserable life!” Normally, I would have quietly cleaned up the broken glass and apologized. But not today. I walked right up to her, staring straight into her bloodshot eyes. “Mom, my meal card ran out of money today.” “Starting next month, can I please keep just ten more dollars of my paycheck for food?” She froze, then exploded in a fury. “Keep ten dollars?! Do you think we’re made of money?!” “We are broke because of you!” “It’s your fault your dad left us!” “If not for you, I’d be living in luxury right now!” “You want ten dollars? In your dreams! Ten dollars is a whole bottle of gin!” “Next month, your allowance is cut to forty!” “If you can’t afford food, go eat the free bread at the shelter! I know your school has free food!” Looking at her twisted, hateful face, the final string of my patience snapped. She always claimed I was ‘disabled’ and ‘broken,’ but my school physicals always showed I was perfectly healthy. She just wanted me to feel worthless.

“Get out and get to work! I don’t want to look at your ugly face!” she screamed, shoving me out the door. The buses back to campus had stopped running. With nowhere to go, I huddled in the cold stairwell, planning to sleep there for the night. But at midnight, I heard our apartment door click open. I peeked through the fire door. My mom was sneaking out, dressed in her best clothes. A bad feeling washed over me. I quietly slipped down the stairs and followed her through the dark streets. She navigated several alleyways before slipping into the back door of a seemingly closed storefront. It was labeled as a private social club, but it was dead quiet inside. No one was around. What was she doing here? I snuck in. The hallway seemed to lead to a dead end, but when I pushed a hidden panel near the floor, a heavy door swung open. It was a loud, smoky underground casino. Dozens of people were gathered around green felt tables, betting thousands. I blended into the crowd and easily spotted my mom at a high-stakes poker table. She had a massive stack of chips in front of her, and the people around her were kissing her feet. “Samantha, you’re on fire tonight! Must be nice having that billionaire ex-husband of yours!” My mom laughed hysterically, tossing a $2,000 chip to a dealer. “That’s pocket change! Phillips just wired me another two million. I’ve got more money than I know what to do with!” “Today, I’m in a good mood. This is on me!” I watched in horror as she threw money around like water. Within an hour, her luck ran out. She lost the entire two million and ended up owing the house another $500,000. A burly, tattooed loan shark stepped up, his face dark. “Pay up, Samantha. Or we’ll start taking fingers.” She didn’t even flinch. “Calm down. I’ll just get more from Phillips. I’ll tell him Hart has leukemia and needs ten million for chemo. He’ll wire it in ten minutes.” My blood ran cold. The millions my dad sent over the years had all been pissed away in this basement. I watched as she actually dialed my dad’s number. When she hung up, she smirked at the enforcer. “See? He’s processing it. Let’s deal another hand! I’m going to win it all back!” Realizing the sheer gravity of her lies, I slipped out of the casino. My hands shook as I dialed the number Jackson had given me. The butler answered. “Vance residence. How can I help you?” “Tell Phillips Vance that his son, Hart Vance, is on the line.” Ten seconds later, my father’s breathless, trembling voice came through. “Hart? Where are you? We need to meet right now.”

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As the roller coaster climbed to its highest peak, I quietly opened my eyes. I wanted to hold my boyfriend Ethan’s hand. Instead, I saw his fingers intertwined with my best friend Maya’s. Ethan was gently rubbing the back of Maya’s hand with his thumb. It was his way of comforting someone. “Ethan, I’m scared,” I whispered. He didn’t look at me. Instead, he gripped Maya’s hand even tighter. Ethan had a hearing impairment. His left ear couldn’t hear clearly. Yet, every time the three of us went out, he always had Maya on his right side. He would lean in, listening closely, answering her every word. Meanwhile, I stood on his left, feeling as if we were a world apart. The roller coaster plunged. I closed my eyes, my heart crashing down as fast as the ride. Ethan, you have no idea. Today is not just my twenty-fifth birthday. It’s also the day you lose me forever. The roller coaster slowly rolled back to the platform. Only then did their hands quietly slip apart. Maya was practically bouncing, her face flushed red. “My heart was beating at 150 back there. That was insane.” Ethan smiled warmly at her. “Mine too.” The two of them laughed and chatted like they always did, talking about how thrilling the ride had been. But listening to them only sent a chill down my spine. Suddenly, Maya looked at me. “Chloe, what about you? I didn’t even hear you scream.” “I…” I froze, not sure what to say. Then, Maya sneezed. It was a very soft sound, but Ethan heard it instantly. He quickly pulled off his jacket and draped it over Maya’s shoulders, fussing over her. “I told you not to wear a short skirt on a roller coaster. Now you’re freezing!” “I don’t care! It was fun!” Maya stared straight at Ethan, giving him a barely noticeable arch of her brow. In the next second, I saw the blush creep up from Ethan’s cheeks to his ears. His Adam’s apple bobbed nervously. Maybe it was the lingering weightlessness from the ride, or maybe it was the sharp, stabbing pain of betrayal. The scene before me made my head spin. I felt physically sick. “Ethan, my blood sugar is crashing… I feel dizzy.” I crouched down in pain, reaching my hand out to Ethan. There was no response. When I looked up again, Ethan and Maya were already thirty feet ahead of me. Under the bright sun, his shadow stretched long, leaning closer and closer to my best friend, leaving me far behind. A park staff member helped me up and handed me an energy drink. “Are you okay, sweetie? Make sure to take care of yourself if you’re here alone. Hope you have a wonderful day! Happy birthday!” I gave her a bitter smile and touched the birthday badge pinned to my chest. Today was my twenty-fifth birthday. Since entering the park, countless strangers had wished me a happy birthday. Yet, the two people closest to me hadn’t even uttered a single “happy birthday.” My phone buzzed. Ethan had sent me a pin on Snapchat: “Come here quick! We have a surprise for you!” My fingers trembled. After a long hesitation, perhaps still holding onto a tiny shred of hope, I typed back, “Okay.” When I arrived at the location, there were a dozen couples standing on a stage. Ethan and Maya were among them. The sign next to them read: *The Perfect Match Couple’s Trivia Challenge.* Couples? Perfect match? I stared blankly. The host was already asking the first question: “What date does her period start every month?” “The 18th!” Ethan and Maya answered in perfect unison. “Was it love at first sight, or a slow burn?” “Love at first sight!” Again, they gave the exact same answer. … After a few more questions, only three couples remained on stage. The host asked the final question: “What was she wearing the very first time you met?” “A blue and white sundress. It looked like the summer sky,” Ethan said, his eyes filled with warmth as he looked tenderly at Maya. Maya blushed and nodded. “And he was wearing a sweaty black basketball jersey. He had just finished a game and smelled terrible!” Ethan laughed. The host laughed. The audience laughed. But I couldn’t laugh. My heart felt like it was being shredded by a knife. The first time they met was when I had fainted from a severe hypoglycemic attack and cracked my ribs. Standing by my hospital bed, Maya had scolded Ethan: “What kind of boyfriend are you? If you can’t take care of my Chloe, I’ll never forgive you!” Back then, Ethan had held my hand tightly, apologizing over and over with eyes full of guilt. For a whole month, they both took care of me at my bedside, bringing me water, food, and medicine. At that time, despite the physical pain, my heart felt incredibly full and happy. But it turned out… they had fallen in love at first sight right by my sickbed? It turned out my pain was just a stepping stone for their romance? A girl standing next to me nudged my elbow, pulling me back to reality. “Are you here alone too? Man, I’m so jealous of that couple on stage. You can literally see the love in that guy’s eyes!” “So sweet! I wish I could find a boyfriend who looks at me like that.” I looked at my boyfriend and my best friend on stage, forcing a pale smile. “Yeah, it’s sweet. If only that guy weren’t my boyfriend.” “Wait, what?” The girl’s eyes widened. “He’s your boyfriend?! How are you keeping your cool?!” After a long silence, I whispered: “He won’t be for much longer.”

The two on stage finally saw me. Maya waved enthusiastically, jogging over to me. She stuffed the giant plushie she had won into my arms. “Chloe! Happy birthday! This is for you!” “Don’t you dare get jealous! I only pretended to be Ethan’s girlfriend so I could win this prize for you!” For me? Again? I looked down at the plushie. It had a wide, goofy smile, as if mocking my stupidity. They continued to walk ahead of me side-by-side, naturally leaving the spot on Ethan’s left for me. I stepped forward, grabbing the edge of Ethan’s jacket, and said softly, “Let’s break up.” “What?” Ethan didn’t hear me. He leaned down, tilting his left ear toward my face. “I said, let’s break up!” I raised my voice. But Ethan still looked clueless. Just as I was about to say it a third time, Maya piped up, “The fireworks are about to start! We won’t get a good spot if we don’t hurry!” Ethan immediately stood up straight, grabbed Maya’s hand, and started running. I was left standing there alone in the dark, my words choked up in my throat. No one cared. In the distance, under the viewing platform, I saw Ethan lift Maya up onto his back. Brilliant fireworks exploded across the night sky, illuminating the entire park. It was so bright that I clearly saw Maya lean into Ethan’s right ear and kiss him. At that moment, the crowd around me cheered, but my world went completely silent. I placed my hand over my chest. There was no physical wound, yet it felt like a giant, gaping hole. The cold wind rushed right through it. It freezing. I turned around, walked against the crowd, and headed toward the exit. My phone buzzed. It was a text from my mom. “Happy birthday, Chloe! How is your day going? Did Ethan give you a big surprise?” When we first started dating, twenty-year-old Ethan had promised my mom that he would propose to me before I turned twenty-five. Today was my twenty-fifth birthday. There were no flowers, no ring, only a complete, humiliating betrayal. My fingers hovered over the keyboard. I typed and erased, typed and erased. In the end, I only sent a few words: “Mom, I don’t want to get married anymore. I want to come home.” On the Uber ride back, I stared blankly out the window at the passing city lights. I wondered how I would explain this to my mom. Should I tell her about his left ear that could never hear me? Or their tightly locked hands? Or their perfect score in the couple’s trivia? Or that kiss under the fireworks? Finally, my mom replied with two simple sentences: “Chloe, whatever you decide, I supports you.” “I clean your room every single day. My baby girl is welcome home anytime.” The tears I had been holding back finally spilled over. I covered my face with both hands and sobbed.

I returned to the apartment Ethan and I had shared for the past year. This was supposed to be our future home, but the curtains were a dark, gloomy black, a color I absolutely hated. The floor was covered in cold grey tiles, not the warm hardwood I had begged for. Even the paintings on the walls were dark, gothic art pieces that made me uneasy. I had brought up how depressing the apartment felt multiple times, asking if we could change the color scheme or at least the decor. Ethan had never answered me. He didn’t even look up. Maybe he didn’t hear me. Or maybe he heard, but simply didn’t care. I didn’t turn on the lights. In the dark, I wrote a quick resignation letter to my boss, bought a one-way ticket back to my hometown, turned off my phone, and went to bed. At 4:00 AM, the front door slammed open. The moment Ethan walked into the bedroom, he flipped on the overhead light. The harsh white light pierced my eyes like a knife. “Chloe, why did you just run off without saying anything? Do you have any idea how worried Maya and I were?” I squinted against the light, my voice hoarse. “So worried that you only came home at dawn?” Ethan paused, his defensive tone wavering. “That… that’s because we were looking for you everywhere. Maya was crying so hard. I had to calm her down before I could come back.” I let out a bitter laugh and held up my phone. “By calming her down like this?” On the screen was an Instagram post of Maya wrapping her arms around Ethan’s neck from behind, whispering intimately against his cheek. The room went dead silent for a few seconds. Ethan cleared his throat, a flash of guilt crossing his eyes. “Maya is petite, and the crowd was blocking her view of the fireworks. I just gave her a piggyback ride. Are you seriously jealous of your own best friend?” “Just” a piggyback ride? I wanted to ask him: Was giving her your jacket “just” a gesture? Was holding her hand “just” an accident? Was that kiss “just” a friendly act? How many “friendly” things had you two done behind my back? But in the end, I just turned over, facing the wall. “Whatever you say. Do whatever you want from now on.” The next morning, his side of the bed was empty. A warm glass of milk sat on the nightstand. I got up and saw Ethan busy in the kitchen. “You’re up! Come eat breakfast. I made your favorite pancakes.” I sat at the dining table, looking at the eggs and pancakes. It felt as if everything from yesterday was just a bad dream. As if… he still loved me. Ethan walked over with a bright smile, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket. “Chloe, we don’t need to do those cheesy, dramatic speeches.” He slid a beautiful diamond ring onto my ring finger. Before yesterday, I had dreamed of this moment thousands of times. But now, only a bitter ache spread through my chest, and my eyes welled with tears. Ethan thought I was crying tears of joy. He pulled me into his arms, gently patting my back. “Silly Chloe, don’t cry.” When I was twenty, my dad passed away, and my mom fell seriously ill. The sudden tragedy made me break down every single night. It was Ethan who ran around, handling all the stressful arrangements for my family. Every night back then, he would hold me just like this, whispering, “Silly Chloe, don’t cry. I’m here. I will always, always be by your side.” Those memories wrapped around my heart like tight threads, suffocating me. Finally, I couldn’t help but whisper against his ear: “Ethan, why did you fall out of love with me? What does Maya have that I don’t? You loved me first…” “Chloe, what did you say? I couldn’t hear you.” Suddenly, his phone on the marble table lit up. Ethan instantly released me and grabbed his phone. The screen illuminated the subtle smirk on his face. We were less than five inches apart. I saw it clearly. The sender was saved as “Maya,” with a heart emoji. Her chat was pinned at the very top, highlighted in grey. My chat was unpinned, buried underneath. “I need to take care of something. Eat up,” he said, walking into the study without looking back. After a long time, I looked down and tried to spin the ring on my finger. It was a bit too small. It pinched my knuckle, hurting badly. I tried multiple times, but I couldn’t get it off. Looking at my red, swollen finger, I gave up, slumped over the table, and cried.

It wasn’t until I received the flight confirmation email that I finally pulled myself together. I screenshotted the ticket, stood up, and started packing. As I passed the study, I saw Ethan through the crack of the door. He was holding his phone to his right ear, looking incredibly focused, as if he didn’t want to miss a single syllable of Maya’s voice. Once, when I was in a rush and couldn’t type, I had sent Ethan a voice note. That was the first time he had ever yelled at me. “Chloe, you know my hearing is bad! Why are you sending me voice notes? Can you please be a little considerate?!” He gave me the silent treatment for a whole week. Since then, I never dared to send him a voice note again. Yet here he was, playing Maya’s voice notes over and over. “How’s the ring? Does Chloe like it?” “See? I told you! Since Maya and I have the exact same ring size, having me try it on for her would be perfect!” “So, how are you going to thank me?” Ethan was clearly amused by her playful voice, his eyes crinkling with laughter. “In a few days, I’ll need you to try on the wedding dress and walk through the rehearsal with me. I’ll thank you properly then.” Maya paused, then asked in a teasing tone: “Ethan, are you marrying Chloe, or are you marrying me?” Ethan didn’t answer right away. After a long silence, he finally said: “If it were you… at least I’d be genuinely happy.” My eyes stung fiercely. I pressed the back of my hand against my eyes, holding back the heat until it faded. I turned away and stopped looking. I packed my documents and a few clothes into my suitcase. Just as I zipped it shut, Ethan pushed the door open. He froze when he saw the suitcase. “What are you doing?” “Nothing. My company is sending me on a business trip,” I said, keeping my head down. Ethan hesitated, glancing out at the dark, stormy sky outside. “I’ll drive you.” I had no reason to refuse. “Okay.” As the car sped down the highway, Ethan turned on the radio. A smooth jazz song filled the car. It was the same song Maya had shared on her Instagram feed a few days ago. He was humming along perfectly with the melody. When the song started playing for the ninth time, he looked straight ahead and said: “When are you coming back? Text me your flight number.” “I’ll pick you up. Then we need to start finalizing the wedding prep.” I didn’t say anything, just kept twisting the tight ring on my finger. Sensing my lack of enthusiasm, Ethan frowned. “What’s wrong with you lately? Weren’t you the one begging to get married? Why are you suddenly so quiet?” I took a breath and spoke calmly. “Ethan, we…” Before I could finish, Maya’s call flashed on the dashboard screen. “Ethan! I just had a horrible nightmare, and the thunder woke me up. My chest feels so tight, and I can’t breathe. Can you please come over and stay with me?” “I’ll be right there!” Ethan said instantly. He hung up and immediately swung the steering wheel to take the next exit, heading in the opposite direction. “Ethan, I’m going to miss my flight,” I said. He didn’t hear me. I raised my voice, yelling over the rain: “Ethan! If her chest is tight, she needs to go to the ER! You are not a doctor!” Ethan slammed on the brakes, pulling the car abruptly to the shoulder. “And I’m not your personal chauffeur either.” “Get out.” His tone was cold and commanding. Thunder rumbled outside, heavy rain slamming against the windshield. At that exact moment, the tight ring finally slipped off my finger, falling into my palm with a soft clink. I opened the passenger door and stepped out into the pouring rain. The second I pulled my suitcase out of the trunk, he slammed on the gas. The sudden splash of water made me stumble, and I fell right into the muddy puddle. Looking at his taillights disappearing into the stormy night, I laughed. Five years of love, ending in such a pathetic, messy way. But it was good. It completely killed any lingering hope I had left. Goodbye, Ethan. Let’s never meet again.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “446366”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster