Category: English

# In the university dorm chat group, someone complained: “The hallways are always full of trash. It’s summer, and the smell is unbearable! Why doesn’t anyone take care of it?” Someone else joked back: “Pretend to be a delivery guy and knock on the door of whichever dorm keeps piling up trash. When they open the door, stab them in the chest. If one stab doesn’t do it, make it two. Once they’re dead, pack the body in a suitcase and take it out—no one will ever notice!” Not long after, I received a message from my roommate: “Mia? I just got into bed, but there’s someone at the door saying they have a delivery. I didn’t order anything—did you?” 0Delivery? What delivery? I was about to reply and tell her I hadn’t ordered anything when a new message popped up in the dorm chat group. “I pretended to be a delivery guy and knocked, but the person inside said they didn’t order anything and told me to leave it at the door.” My fingers froze above the keyboard. A chilling sweat broke out on my palms. I quickly typed a trembling response to my roommate: “I didn’t order anything! Don’t open the door—no matter what!” The dorm chat group was exclusively for residents of Building 3. When we joined, the dorm manager had instructed everyone to include their room numbers as part of their usernames. At our university, dorm numbers are formatted with the first two digits indicating the floor, and the last two digits indicating the room. For example, my room number is 2201, meaning I live on the 22nd floor in the room farthest to the left. The person who had just sent the message was listed as 2200 in the group. To avoid revealing their exact location, some people only included their floor number in their username. The person joking about the “delivery prank” was listed as 2222—but our floor only has 20 rooms. That meant they were also on the 22nd floor but hadn’t included their full room number. This wasn’t the first time people had used fake usernames. Whenever someone wanted to post anonymously, they’d temporarily change their username. My roommate sent another message: “Mia, the delivery guy said the room number is correct. Are you sure you didn’t order anything?” My breathing quickened. What if she went to open the door after sending that message? I typed as fast as I could: “Don’t open the door! Whatever you do, don’t open the door! There’s a killer outside!” My roommate wasn’t in the group anymore. She’d left it a while back because she was tired of people arguing over petty issues. To make sure she understood, I quickly screenshotted the messages from the chat group and sent them to her. 0

“This is from our dorm chat group.” “That ‘delivery guy’ prank was 2222’s idea, and 2200 is the one carrying it out!” “Their goal is to kill you! Don’t open the door!” I sent her three messages in a row, hoping she’d realize how serious the situation was. She replied quickly: “Mia, this has to be some kind of joke. I mean, who would actually do something like this? We’re in college!” Her response made my heart sink. But I couldn’t give up. “It doesn’t matter if it’s a joke or not. I didn’t order anything, and you’re alone in the dorm. Just be careful, okay?” I had barely put my phone down when another message popped up in the group: 2222: “Did she open the door yet?” 2200: “Not yet, but I can hear movement inside. [knife emoji with blood]” 2222: “Don’t rush it. Wait for her to come out. By the way, there are two people in that dorm. Are you planning to kill them both, or just one?” 2200: “Just one. Killing two would be too much work. Besides, I’ve noticed only one person’s been coming back to that room at night recently. She always wears those stupid Crocs.” When I saw that message, my heart stopped. I’d just moved out of the dorm a few days ago, leaving my roommate alone. And she had a habit of wearing Crocs in the summer. The description matched our room perfectly. This wasn’t a joke. It couldn’t be. I immediately opened my roommate’s chat. Just then, my phone buzzed with a new message from her: “Mia, relax! Look.” She sent me two photos. 0

The pictures my roommate sent were blurry, likely taken by holding her phone’s camera close to the peephole. The first photo showed the delivery person bending down to pick up a takeout box. The second photo captured the delivery person walking away, their back to the camera. Roommate: “Mia, I was just about to go grab the takeout, but guess what happened when I got out of bed?” I quickly typed back: “What happened?” Roommate: “The delivery guy said he made a mistake. Apparently, he got the room number wrong when filling out the order, so it wasn’t for us after all.” Despite her reply, I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in my chest. The messages from the dorm group chat were just too strange. Who jokes about such specific and unrelated details? After thinking for a few seconds, I forwarded the suspicious messages from the dorm group to her. This time, her response wasn’t as quick, and I started to feel anxious. Just as I was about to call her through the app, she finally replied. Roommate: “These people in the group are insane. They’re always stirring up nonsense. Don’t you remember why I left the group in the first place?” Of course, I remembered. How could I forget? She hadn’t just left because of the constant bickering over trivial issues. There was one incident where a student posted a chilling message in the group: 22:** “@2204, I’m standing outside your dorm. Keep talking that loudly, and you’ll never speak again. Dead people are the quietest!”** The message sent everyone on the 22nd floor into a panic, keeping them up all night. The dorm manager tried to reassure us by coming to investigate, but they found no one outside the dorm—it was just a prank. That incident had been the last straw for my roommate. She left the group to avoid the stress altogether. Roommate: “Every time, it’s the same thing in this group. Some small issue gets blown way out of proportion. It’s exhausting!” Her message calmed me down a bit. I realized my panic had caused unnecessary stress for her. To ease the tension, I sent her an apology: “Emma, I’m sorry for overreacting. I just got really worried and forgot about the other stuff.” After sending the message, I decided to focus on my work and stop checking my phone. But just as I was about to close the app, a new message from the dorm group caught my eye. 0

2211: “Hey, sorry about that! I accidentally put 2201 as the room number when I ordered takeout. I hope it didn’t cause any trouble!” 2222: “So it really was a mistake?” 2211: “[awkward emoji] Yeah, my bad! But honestly, your conversations are super creepy. Maybe don’t joke about stuff like that.” 2222: “Got it, got it.” 2200: “Wow, scared already? That was just one method, you know.” Seeing the conversation, I finally let out a deep breath. It seemed like I’d been overthinking. But as I was about to close the app, something about 2211’s message struck me. She said she’d ordered porridge. I immediately reopened my chat with my roommate and pulled up the first photo she’d sent of the delivery. Zooming in on the takeout packaging, I noticed something odd. The container in the photo was a plastic box. But at our school, porridge is always served in paper cups. Which meant the delivery person in the photo wasn’t from 2211’s order. Someone else had gone to our dorm. And then I remembered 2200’s last message: “That was just one method.” It was 2200. She really had gone to our dorm! This wasn’t like the earlier pranks where nothing happened. This time, it was real—a planned attack. My heart started pounding as I frantically opened my roommate’s chat and called her. The call connected but was immediately declined. Panicking, I sent her a message: “Emma, what are you doing?!” The chat showed that she was typing a reply, but no message came through. I sent another message: “Did you open the door?!” 0

This time, she replied quickly: “No!” A second message came right after: “Mia, I’m scared to talk. There’s someone in the hallway.” She attached a photo. The image was mostly dark, but at the bottom, there was a narrow strip of light. I stared at the picture and realized the light was coming from the gap beneath the door. It meant she hadn’t turned on the dorm lights, and the sound-activated lights in the hallway had been triggered. Wait. I zoomed in on the photo, focusing on the strip of light. In the middle of the light, there were two shadowy shapes. Legs. Someone was standing directly outside her door. It was the “delivery person.” They hadn’t left. Just as I was about to send her another message, she sent me a video. The video was dark, but the audio was clear—loud, frantic knocking on the door. Roommate: “Mia, the peephole’s been covered. I can’t see who’s out there! Someone’s knocking nonstop [scared emoji].” Me: “Emma, don’t panic. I’ve already called the police. Stay inside and don’t make a sound!” Roommate: “Where’s the dorm manager?! Why haven’t they shown up yet? [sweating emoji]” I checked the time. It was 10 p.m.—shift change for the dorm managers. During this time, the managers for different shifts often chatted for a few minutes while switching duties. That “few minutes” wasn’t fixed, and given how urgent the situation was, I didn’t have time to wait. I quickly found the duty schedule and called the current dorm manager’s number. But the call wouldn’t go through—it just kept ringing.

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When I unexpectedly lost the baby, Bobby George was waiting in line to buy the first cup of cocoa of autumn for his first love, Zara Monroe. Seeing my pale face, he gently covered her eyes. “Bad luck, don’t look.” Then he coldly said to me, “Don’t think I don’t know you purposely made your face so pale. What are you pretending for?” Afterward, he took Zara’s hand and turned to leave. Late that night, I heard Bobby play sleep-inducing piano music for Zara, who couldn’t sleep. I calmly dialed a number. I said, “Dad, I’ve made up my mind. I want to go back and take over our family business.” Listening to the sleep-inducing piano music echoing in the house, I thought about the child I had just lost. I calmly made a call. “Dad, I’ve made up my mind. I want to go home and take over our family business.” I didn’t even know Bobby could play the piano after five years of being together. Maybe it wasn’t that he couldn’t play, but rather, I wasn’t worthy of having him play the piano for me. Just as I hung up the phone, Bobby came out of the piano room. He wore a white shirt, and his eyes still held some lingering tenderness. In the past, when he came home, he was always too tired to talk and would fall asleep immediately. He never had the leisure to play the piano for half a night. “Who were you on the phone with?” Bobby asked, his eyes still glued to his phone. He scrolled through his phone and smiled carelessly. I told him the truth. It was my dad. He hummed in response and didn’t ask further. I knew he didn’t care about my family either. After all, we had been in a relationship for five years, and he had never once mentioned meeting my parents. He had never been interested in my family. When Bobby picked up a cup of water, he noticed that it wasn’t the honey water he usually drank. For the first time, his gaze reluctantly shifted to me. “You said you were going to the hospital today. Did you go?” he asked. I looked down at my phone and typed. “I did.” “Did you have a sickness?” Bobby asked casually. I smiled bitterly and shrugged. “No sickness.” It wasn’t really a sickness. I was pregnant. I had planned to surprise him. But on the way, I had an accident and lost the baby. It was pointless to talk about it now. After all, he and Zara were both there when it happened. “I think you’re just overreacting,” he said. “By the way, don’t forget my honey water next time.” Bobby reminded me about his honey water and went into the study with a smile. He didn’t even notice my pale face. I checked out his Facebook page with my secondary account. Sure enough, there was a post visible to everyone except me. [Guarantee Letter. I guarantee to buy Zara the first cup of cocoa of autumn every year from now on. I’ll never forget, and I’ll keep my promise. As compensation for almost forgetting this year, I’ll deliver breakfast to her every day for the next week.] I sneered as I read the comments below that praised them as so sweet in love. The pair of cheaters were getting compliments. I immediately contacted my family’s legal team. Since I had decided to separate, everything that belonged to me should be returned.

The next morning, Bobby woke up early and went to a famous restaurant to buy food. I was about to open the heat-preserving bag when Bobby slapped my hand. “Don’t you like salad?” he asked. “This one is for you. Eat this.” I was stunned for a moment, then quickly remembered the content from his post yesterday. It seemed that the beautifully packaged food was for Zara. I stared at the salad being pushed toward me and coldly said, “Bobby, we’ve been in a relationship for five years. Don’t you know I don’t eat salad? Don’t you know the smell makes me sick?” Bobby froze, saying coldly, “It’s good enough that I bought it for you. Eat it if you want, stop being so picky.” I glared at Bobby, who didn’t care about my preferences. I turned and went back to the room, pulling out a bag. I said, “When you see Zara, give her this pair of underwear I found in the master bedroom.” Bobby looked surprised, then quickly tried to explain, “Zara always leaves things behind. I’ll remind her to be more careful next time.” “As your secretary, Zara left something in the master bedroom. She really needs to be more careful,” I scoffed. “Jasmine, watch your words. I won’t allow you to speak badly of Zara,” Bobby huffed, irritated. I couldn’t be bothered to say anything more, just coldly watching him. Bobby seemed to realize his reaction was too strong, so he offered to take me to work today. Just when he thought I would be grateful, I shook my head and refused. We had been together for five years, and I had been there for him during the difficult days of building the business. Even when I had stomach bleeding from drinking with clients, I never got the privilege of having Bobby pick me up and drop me off from work. Now, finally, he offered this, but it was to make up for another woman. It was laughable. This kind of compensation meant nothing to me. I turned and left the house. Once I arrived at the office, I began preparing my resignation letter. For some reason, most of my colleagues looked at me with sympathetic eyes. “Ms. Harper, you’re finally here,” my assistant, Lexie Dunn said hesitantly. I looked at her anxious expression, realizing she was genuinely worried about me. I gave her my only real smile in the past few days. “What’s the matter? Why are you so urgent?” I asked. “Ms. Harper, you should see this.” Lexie showed me a video. It was shot at the company entrance. Bobby was holding a cup of cocoa while gently helping Zara out of the car and taking her bag. They smiled at each other, as if they were a couple. The sight of Bobby’s careful actions and his tender gaze broke my heart. Zara was his first love. Compared to her, I was just an unimportant person who had been there since the beginning of his business. Looking at the cocoa in Bobby’s hand, I couldn’t help but recall the message he sent me a few days ago. [What kind of cocoa do girls usually like?] At that time, I happily named my favorite. I even read many articles about the first cocoa of the fall season. But then, I saw Zara’s post: [The first cocoa of the fall is here!] The picture was of the cocoa I liked. That was when I realized that Bobby had never planned to treat me well. I remembered how he found all kinds of reasons to hire an art student as a secretary. He must have had many intentions from the start. I was the only fool who believed that Bobby would never betray me. I looked at the broken mug in front of me. It had slipped from my hand and shattered. Bitter coffee spilled out, just like my mood. I was broken and bitter. I gritted my teeth and stepped on the pieces. I said, “It’s fine. I know everything. I’m resigning. None of this will matter to me anymore.” I gave Lexie a new phone number, then turned and entered the CEO’s office. I threw my resignation letter in front of Bobby. I said, “Bobby, I’m resigning. Please settle my salary. Oh, and my shares, I want them cashed out.”

Bobby lifted his head from the documents and frowned. He sulked, “What nonsense are you pulling? Just because I didn’t go to the hospital with you yesterday? We’re adults. Does it even matter if I accompany you? You’re grown. Are you afraid of getting lost? By the way, how’s the business in Flibus going?” I saw his impatience and repeated myself, “I want to resign. Convert all my shares. Please arrange it as soon as possible.” He stared at me and snorted, “Do you even know what you’re saying? I was planning to propose to you, and now you’re talking about settling accounts. Wasn’t marrying me your dream all along?” I stayed silent and just looked at him. There was a time I wished to spend my life with him. If it were the old me, I’d have been thrilled to hear these words. But now, using marriage to keep me tethered was impossible. Whether he agreed or not, I could still reclaim everything with the Harper family behind me. I couldn’t stay in this wretched company another day. My silence made Bobby nervous. He said, “Jasmine, I know I’ve been too kind to Zara lately. She’s my classmate and my secretary. She’s alone in this city, so it’s only right to help her. “I admit I’ve neglected you. I’ll make it up to you. “Tell me, is there something you’ve wanted recently?” “Bobby, this dress you bought is beautiful!” Zara’s cheerful voice interrupted his words. I turned to see Zara wearing the latest dress in the lounge. She looked at him sweetly. She said, “Sorry, Ms. Harper. I didn’t know you were here. I just wanted to thank Bobby for the dress. You don’t mind, do you?” She casually flipped her hair, revealing a bracelet on her wrist. It was a familiar bracelet. Bobby had been wearing the same one recently. I recalled how surprised I was when I first saw him wearing it. Bobby never wore accessories. When I asked why, he casually said it was for luck. But now, it was clear he wore it to please Zara. I didn’t care about it anymore. I wouldn’t care even if they wore wedding rings someday. I sneered, “Why would I mind? Once I resign, you two can change clothes here or even strip if you want. Do whatever you like.” Bobby snapped, “Enough, Jasmine! I’ve been speaking to you nicely. But your attitude toward Zara is unacceptable. Apologize to her now!”

Bobby snapped, “Get out of my office if you won’t apologize!” I countered, “If you don’t want to see me, then give me my money. I’ll leave immediately.” Bobby hesitated. I knew he didn’t want to spend a large amount of money. He also didn’t want to lose a loyal and useful “subordinate” like me. But that had nothing to do with me. Even though I came from a wealthy family and didn’t lack money, I would take back what was mine. I wondered how long these cheaters’ luck would last. “Mr. George, I’ll wait for your call. Don’t contact me about company matters anymore.” I turned and left without hesitation. Before I received a call from Bobby, I got one from his mother. Bethany George said warmly, “Jasmine, it’s my birthday the day after tomorrow. You must come to celebrate with me.” I was surprised. It was unusual for Bethany to call me. Everyone in the George family knew she didn’t like me. She had criticized me in front of their relatives many times. Now she was inviting me to her birthday party, likely setting a trap for me. I agreed with a cold smile, “Sure, I’ll come. Anything else?” Since I didn’t care anymore, I’d go and watch the show. “Can you bring the bracelet you wanted to buy me?” she asked. Greed was evident in her voice. I laughed silently. She didn’t like me but expected a gift. The George family members were greedy. I hung up the phone. Shortly after, I received a text from Bobby. [You don’t need to come to my mom’s birthday. Make sure to prepare a handmade cake.] Ever since Bobby and I were together, I had made cakes for his family every year. As a pampered lady, I had burned my hands countless times to make them happy. I received nothing in return. No one appreciated my efforts. And now, he had the nerve to tell me to do it again. I called the housekeeper. “Prepare a cake for me. Any flavor is fine, and it doesn’t need to be fancy. Write some words on it.”

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Ave was streaming a movie on the TV when she went to the bathroom and forgot to turn it off. On the screen, Ave was chatting with a man. The man: [Today is my birthday. I bought you a bunny girl outfit. Want to try it on tonight?] Ave: [Wait for me, I’ll be there soon.] I forced myself to stay calm. I picked up my phone and recorded their chat. The sound of the bathroom door opening reached me. Quickly, I turned off the TV. “Daniel, my best friend’s birthday is tonight, so I won’t be home for dinner.” I forced a smile. “Okay, have fun.” After Ave left, I picked up the recording and watched it over and over. The man had sent Ave the delivery code, revealing his phone number. I searched for him on social media. The latest post was a short video. It showed Ave, wearing a very short skirt, being kissed on the head by a man at the beach during sunset. Because of the lighting, I couldn’t make out the man’s face. My hands trembled as I kept scrolling. The man posted a picture of an expensive phone. The caption read: [She loves me so much.] The dazzling light from the phone hurt my eyes. Further down, there was a collage photo. The top half showed a pregnancy test, with Ave’s name written on it. The bottom half showed the man pressing his face against Ave’s belly. The caption: [She only has one body, but two heartbeats.] At that moment, it was as if I had been struck by a cold wave. I shook uncontrollably. We had been married for five years, and I had always wanted to have a child with Ave. A month ago, she grabbed my hand excitedly and told me she was pregnant. I was so moved that tears welled up in my eyes, and I spun her around in my arms. Since that day, I had been extra careful with her, always on edge. I suggested she quit her job. She said she didn’t want to be a parasite and wanted to be a modern woman. I couldn’t argue with her, so I made her nutritious meals every day. Worried she’d be anxious during the pregnancy, I turned down work to take her on trips to relax. If she craved cake in the middle of the night, I’d drive across half the city to get her favorite kind. I thought, even if I had to die for her, I would. But I never expected this. She had an affair! And the child might not even be mine. I suddenly laughed, but it wasn’t out of sadness. Was it wrong for her to seek excitement? Where did she go wrong? The mistake was choosing to indulge while still being married to me! Love, that luxury, only existed in novels. In real life, it was best to just forget about it. I tried to use Ave’s computer. I tried both our birthdays, but neither worked. Then I remembered the man had said today was his birthday. Being nervous, I typed it in, and it opened. Pain suddenly gripped my chest. I clicked on a folder named [Hawke.] Images of explicit photos appeared on the screen. The same man, but never showing his face. The most recent photo was taken two days ago. Ave and the man were embracing, naked. That day, she was supposed to be on a business trip. I opened Ave’s shopping app. There were chat records between her and the man. “This new phone looks nice.” “I’ve ordered it for you, love you.” I checked her purchase history. Sexy lingerie, limited-edition running shoes, several men’s outfits, and even some adult items made my heart race just from reading the titles. The delivery address was always the same. The neighboring community. Ave had never bought me a gift. She always said that since we were married, giving gifts was too formal. I had always thought she was someone who couldn’t show affection. At that moment, I realized I didn’t know her at all. I deleted all the browsing history, put the computer back in place, and wiped off any fingerprints. After finishing all of that, the man updated his social media. It was a picture of a woman in bunny girl lingerie, kneeling on a bed. Though her face wasn’t visible, I recognized Ave immediately. My fingers clenched the phone so tightly they turned white, but I didn’t feel a thing. I wanted to tear these two apart. I wanted them to be ruined. But I knew I had to hold back, plan carefully, and act when the time was right.

The next day, I installed a few hidden cameras around the house. Ave came back in the afternoon, carrying a large bouquet of roses. As soon as she saw me, she panicked and said, “Daniel, why aren’t you at work today?” I smiled and looked at her. I said, “I’m going on a business trip tomorrow, so I’m packing my luggage today. “That bouquet… is it for me?” It gave her an easy out. Ave handed me the flowers. “These are from my best friend. She congratulated me on becoming a mom. “I’m giving them to you. Congratulations on becoming a dad.” How disgusting. Would a best friend really give champagne roses, which symbolize love? And the one becoming a dad was probably someone else. I suppressed my disgust. I took the flowers and played along with her act. Ave sighed in relief and quietly tossed the card into the trash can. I saw everything but didn’t expose her. Once Ave went into the bathroom, I picked up the card. It read: [Ave, I will always love you.] No signature. But the handwriting seemed familiar. When Ave came out, I pretended to be packing my luggage. “Daniel, when will you be back?” I stopped what I was doing and said with regret, “Maybe one or two months. This project is important.” “Such a long time?” she said, pretending to be reluctant. I turned and hugged her, trying to test the waters. “How about I cancel the project and stay home with you? You’re pregnant, and I’m worried about you.” But Ave suddenly pushed me away. “That’s not possible.” She came back to comfort me realizing she had overreacted. “What I meant is, if you don’t work, how will you support me and the baby? “Don’t worry, my best friend will be here with me.” She watched me carefully and was afraid I’d change my mind. I couldn’t be bothered to argue with her. I turned away and smiled. I thought, “The trap was set. Ave, I hope you won’t disappoint me.”

The next day, I took my suitcase and checked into a nearby hotel. In the hotel room, I cast the surveillance footage onto the TV. I lay on the sofa, reflecting on our past. My marriage to Ave was purely accidental. At the time, I had just started my business. To be closer to the studio, I rented a place in an old community for convenience. Then the unexpected pandemic trapped me at home. I signed up to be a volunteer. Ave was one of them. We were assigned to the same group to distribute supplies. Ave was kind-hearted and gentle. For three months, we stayed together. As time passed, we grew closer and eventually became a couple. She worked as an employee at a small company. Despite her tough work schedule, she always made meals for me when I came home. Her meager salary was mostly sent back home to her family. Even so, her mother, Sarah was never satisfied. She forced Ave to send all the money to buy a house for her brother. I felt heartbroken for Ave, seeing how hard her life had been. I wanted to pull her out of that abyss. So, when we got married, I gave her family two million dollars as a wedding gift. The condition was that they would no longer interfere in Ave’s life. After marriage, I gave her fifty thousand dollars every month for living expenses, so she wouldn’t have to suffer the hardships she’d endured as a child. Her life did improve. She often went shopping or out to parties with friends. She even went to music festivals and concerts by herself. I thought that with enough love and money, I could erase the shadow of her family’s past. But I never imagined that the money would make her more beautiful and sophisticated, and also lead her down a path of decadence. At that moment, Ave appeared on the monitor. She picked up the phone and called me. “Daniel, where are you?” “I took an early flight today, and I’m already at the workplace.” “Take care of yourself. I won’t bother you.” She hurriedly hung up the phone and immediately called someone else. “Hurry up, he’s gone.” She really couldn’t wait. A few moments later, a person, fully covered up, entered the house. My mind buzzed when he removed his hat and mask. I recognized him immediately. He was James Hawke, a rapper from one of the shows my company created. He was someone Ave had recommended to me. Ave told me he was a rising rap star, who had performed at bars and attended many music festivals. He had a large following on social media. She suggested having him on the show, claiming it would boost the ratings. At the time, I joked with her, asking if she was only pushing him because she liked him. I never expected that one casual joke would inadvertently reveal the truth. I turned down the volume. Then I called my assistant, asking her to send me James’ profile.

James took off his hat and mask and swaggered into the living room. He sat comfortably on the sofa as if it was his home. “Perfect timing, with Daniel on a business trip. I don’t have any performances these days.” Ave jumped into his arms, giggling. “So coincidental, huh? Well, you better spend some time with me.” “How long is Daniel gone? Hope he doesn’t come back suddenly…” he whispered ambiguously in Ave’s ear. “Don’t worry, he’ll be gone for one or two months.” James grinned and pulled Ave closer. “Great, then I’ll take good care of you.” Their conversation hurt my heart, but I forced myself to keep recording. “Remember, no one touches you except me!” “You’re so possessive.” I thought they’d quickly get to the point, but they just sat there on the sofa. Ave sat on James’ lap, their fingers intertwined, looking like a couple deeply in love. James asked, “Ave, do you love me?” “If I didn’t love you, why would I be carrying your child?” They cuddled and flirted for a while. Three minutes later, my assistant sent me James’ profile. James came from an ordinary, even somewhat poor family. He dropped out of school early and worked various jobs. Waiter, delivery man, and factory worker. Later, he started performing as a bar singer. His good looks attracted many female fans. Once he became famous, he was invited to many music festivals. I took a closer look. Ave had been to the bar where James performed. She and her friends stayed out late one night, and I went to pick her up. Ave had been to most of the music festivals James attended as well. I froze, staring at the profile, my eyes bloodshot. It turned out they had already known each other at the bar. I suddenly recalled that during the recording of the show, Ave insisted on attending the rehearsal. When James came on stage, he looked in our direction during his self-introduction. He said he wanted to thank the important people in his life. Then he smiled at me. Looking back, that smile was full of provocation and mockery. The funny thing was, I actually thought he was thanking me for giving him the opportunity. Sitting on the sofa, I stared at James’ profile, and a plan began to form in my mind.

I first created a new account on social media. Under James’ posts, which had millions of followers, I left a comment: [James seduces married women and willingly plays the third wheel.] Soon, some of his crazy fans began attacking me. [Who is this? How shameless, trying to gain attention by mentioning James.] [Some people have no bottom line just to get famous.] [He is gentle, handsome, and well-mannered, how could he possibly fall for a married woman?] [James, quickly deny this and crush the haters!] Everyone tagged James, but unfortunately, he was busy enjoying his time with Ave. I ignored the fans. Because I knew, the higher the expectation, the happier I would be in the end. These were just bait. I sent all the materials I had collected about James and Ave’s affair, including her pregnancy, to the paparazzi. I didn’t ask for a single penny, just one request. I wanted to make sure this news would hit the trending list. While waiting, I thought of Ave’s parents. At the time of our marriage, I had set a condition to give a large wedding gift, with the stipulation that they would no longer harass Ave. But after marriage, over the years, I still sent them a little living allowance each month, as a favor to Ave. Her father, Evan, and her mother, Sarah constantly boasted about how their daughter had found such a wealthy husband. Their relatives would flatter them all the time. But in reality, they were incredibly envious. They would tell their daughter to learn from Ave. So, I decided to send these materials to the Taylor family’s group chat. Soon, the chat exploded. [Daniel, what is this that you’ve sent?] Ave’s cousin was the first to see it. He was always the first to respond whenever I posted something in the group. But after reading it, he was speechless. Ave’s aunt was the first to react. [Oh my, this is too dirty! Ave, this girl is too… bold.] [Such bad behavior, what a disgrace!] [Exactly, to reject such a good husband and go behind his back.] [You’ve completely embarrassed our family.] [If this gets out, I won’t be able to face anyone.] [Don’t be sad, Daniel, we have many good girls in the Taylor family besides Ave.] [My daughter is great, too. She has excellent grades, and graduated from a good university…] Aunties from the Taylor family with daughters stood up to recommend their daughters. “What are you doing? Trying to steal from our family?” Sarah spoke up, and the chat group fell silent. “Daniel, where did you get this video from? It must be some jealous person trying to smear Ave. “You can’t fall for this trick! “Ave has always been well-behaved and thoughtful, she would never do something so disgraceful. “Isn’t it common for things online to be doctored? This must be fake.” Sarah, who couldn’t type, sent dozens of voice messages in a panic.

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My CEO girlfriend Celeste docked my entire bonus and gave a car to the least competent assistant, calling it his year-end bonus. That evening, the assistant boasted about it on Snapchat. “Thanks to my generous boss and my own excellence.” The picture showed them standing next to the new car, forming a heart with one hand, smiling sweetly. This time, I didn’t have a meltdown, nor did I get jealous or confront her. Instead, I quietly maxed out her credit card to buy cars for all my colleagues. Take them together to thank. “Thanks to a generous boss and to everyone’s excellence.” Barely two minutes after posting, Celeste called me. “Asher, are you out of your mind?” “If Finn hadn’t told me, I wouldn’t have known you’d do something so outrageous.” “Sort this out before I get back, or face the consequences!” She hung up in anger. Just before the line went dead, I heard Finn’s pitiful voice. “I’m sorry, Celeste, for putting you in this position.” “You have nothing to apologize for. He made the mistake, not you.” Celeste’s gentle, reassuring tone was completely different from before. I knew she said it for my benefit, expecting me to clean up the mess as usual. The old me never dared stand up to her. But she doesn’t know that this time I’ve completely lost hope and won’t help her anymore. A colleague anxiously said, “Asher, does Ms. Celeste not know about this? Maybe we should return the cars, or she’ll hold you responsible.” Others agreed, trying to sound relaxed but visibly disappointed. When I told them about the cars earlier, I only said it was a year-end bonus, nothing more. They assumed it was Celeste’s doing and praised her for the surprise. Now, the surprise turned into a shock. One colleague, worried about my punishment, rushed to cancel the sale. I came back to my senses and stopped him, assuring everyone I’d handle it. Then I went home, relaxed, and took a nap. By the time I woke up, it was already early morning. I heard noise at the door and found Celeste entering the living room with a dark expression. Seeing me, she slammed her bag onto the table, making a loud noise. I knew she was trying to intimidate me, forcing me to admit my mistake and find a way to appease her. In the past, I would have done just that. But now, I just glanced at her, yawned, and said, “You’re back.” Seeing this, Celeste grew even angrier. “How can you still have the face to sleep?” “I told you to take back everything you gave away. Why haven’t you done it yet?” “Asher, you’ve got some nerve. I’m giving you a chance to fix this, and you still don’t care.” I used to fear this side of her, not because she was angry, but because it was bad for her health. After her outburst, I’d rush to comfort her, admit my mistake, and try to fix things. But now, I calmly said, “Why should I fix it? I didn’t do anything wrong.” Maybe hearing me talk back for the first time stunned Celeste. “What did you say?” I scoffed, “Even the worst performer gets a year-end bonus. So why shouldn’t everyone else, who’ve worked themselves to the bone for the company’s success, get one too?” Celeste’s face turned red with anger. “Finn may not be outstanding now, but he’s new, and for a rookie, he’s doing quite well. I’m sure he’ll be a top performer by next year.” “Besides, do you even know how many mistakes they’ve made this year? It’s good enough I didn’t dock their pay. Why should they get a bonus?” “…” Celeste kept listing their faults, and I found it amusing. Her examples were trivial mistakes she kept repeating, like forgetting to water the plants or mistakenly submitting an extra invoice. These were outside of work tasks. Besides, they always corrected their mistakes promptly. Everyone understood that starting a business is tough, so they often worked overtime without complaint for four years. Now that the company has grown, Celeste not only didn’t acknowledge their efforts but also shamelessly assigned them more work. Finn joined last year, making fewer mistakes because he relied on Celeste’s favoritism and didn’t actually work. His mistakes were in his primary duties, almost always detrimental to the company. From sending hundreds of messages to partners in the middle of the night to misreporting product prices in contracts, causing a lawsuit that cost the company eight million. Finn claimed I distracted him with work, which I found laughable, and so did everyone else. Yet Celeste believed it and unhesitatingly docked my entire year’s bonus. Seeing I wasn’t speaking, Celeste assumed I was reflecting on my actions like before. Her tone softened slightly. “Right after the call, Finn said it was tough for me and wanted to return the car. Can’t you learn from him?” “He’s just an ordinary employee who joined the company last year, yet he cares about me. And you…” Before she could finish, I interrupted, “Fine, then let him return the car. If he does, I’ll have everyone else return theirs too.” Celeste was speechless. I knew she wouldn’t let Finn return it. This wasn’t the first time this had happened. Celeste, though thrifty, would always fight for Finn’s benefits under any pressure. And Finn’s offer to return was just lip service. She might know this too, yet she still supports him unconditionally. Caught off guard by my firm stand, Celeste was furious and finally poked my forehead, annoyed. “Why are you so childish?” “Asher, this is your last warning. Tomorrow, take back everything you gave out, or don’t bother staying at the company. Just resign.” “Even if you’re my boyfriend, I can’t accept someone who doesn’t follow orders in the company.” She looked at me condescendingly, sure I’d never leave. But this time, I didn’t compromise or go against my conscience to please her. Instead, I handed her the prepared document. “I was thinking the same.” “This is my resignation letter. Just sign it.”

Celeste was momentarily stunned, not expecting me to resign. I had given up a high-paying opportunity to support her startup, even invested half of my savings into the company without asking for any shares. I drank with clients till dawn, putting up with being treated like a clown. To perfect projects, I worked on just three to four hours of sleep, pushing myself to multiple cardiac arrests. Now that the company is big, anyone would think twice before leaving. Celeste, realizing this, laughed coldly. “Think carefully, resigning means no compensation. Even as my boyfriend, there’s no exception.” “I know. But I’ll take them all with me.” “Here are their resignation letters. Have a look.” I handed her a stack of resignation forms from the colleagues who had their bonuses docked. They had long been fed up with Celeste’s exploitation and favoritism towards Finn. They’d been submitting resignation applications to me, which I had been holding back. I tried convincing them to hang on, assuring them Celeste wasn’t always like this. Maybe she just needed time for Finn to adapt. They didn’t believe me, but for my sake, they stayed. This incident, however, left us all disheartened. Celeste’s face darkened. “A bunch of ingrates. I supported them for four years, and they show no gratitude.” “Forget it, I’m too tired to argue.” She quickly tore up the resignation letters and tossed them into the trash. “Let’s just forget about this incident. I won’t hold it against you, okay?” Celeste acted magnanimous. But I knew she didn’t have the luxury to hold a grudge. Despite her disdain for us and favoritism for Finn, she was well aware that most of the company’s operations were in our hands. If we left, the company would collapse. Perhaps fearing I might press further, Celeste tried to ease the tension. “Let’s just end this matter here.” “Knowing you were so stubborn, I shouldn’t have set a year-end bonus.” “These cars add up to over five million, you know. Don’t forget it’s your money too. We’re now further from getting married, it’s heartbreaking.” Celeste sighed, but I found it mildly amusing. She often said things like that. She had a bank card where she deposited money each month, telling me we would marry once it reached ten million. I believed her completely, often secretly adding money to it myself. It wasn’t until last month that I stumbled upon the fact that the card, which should have contained nine million, had only five million left. Upon checking the statements, I discovered she spent the money on dates and gifts for Finn. Shoes costing twenty to thirty thousand each pair, and she had given over twenty pairs in just half a year. Underwear costing two thousand each, and she once bought eighteen pairs. A seafood banquet for their dates cost at least eighty thousand per table. These were luxuries I couldn’t even dream of. Yet, whenever I wanted to buy a new outfit for a hundred bucks, she’d scold me for being wasteful, questioning if I was serious about marriage. It was absurd. I often blamed myself, not realizing that she was the one not serious about marriage. I couldn’t understand how she could lie so effortlessly. Just as I was about to speak, her phone rang. Celeste dismissed me, stepping onto the balcony to take the call. Whatever was said seemed to lift her spirits, as she returned humming a tune, looking pleased. Seeing me, she suddenly seemed to remember something, her smile fading, her expression turning awkward. “A business partner needs to see me. I have to go, take some time to think things over at home.” I didn’t bother to confront her. I watched her pick an outfit from the closet, choose a different purse, and then leave. I checked the bank card details. Just then, another hundred thousand was withdrawn. The payee was a bar she frequented with Finn. After a few moments of silence, I picked up my phone and called the police.

When I arrived with the police, Celeste and Finn had just finished a toast. Amidst the loud music and chatter, their spirits were unusually high. “Sister Celeste, I can’t believe you’re still with Asher after all his reckless behavior.” “You have such patience. You’ve founded a company and have so many assets, you’re a modern-day leading woman, yet you still humor him.” “Anyone else would have switched boyfriends long ago and avoided such trouble.” Finn was indignant on Celeste’s behalf. Celeste sighed, her tone somewhat helpless. “I can’t help it. He did contribute when the company was founded. If we break up now, everyone would think I’m ungrateful.” “Blame it on my poor judgment. I never thought he’d turn out like this.” “Once the time is right, I’ll find a way to get rid of him.” Her words were clear to my ears, but I only found them amusing. I had asked Celeste early on why she chose this path. At the time, I was a manager at a multinational company, earning a substantial salary, more than enough to support us. But starting a business came with many uncertainties and could be tough. Back then, Celeste looked me in the eye and sincerely told me she didn’t want me to struggle alone. She wanted to stand by my side and walk further together. I stepped out of my comfort zone to help her reach her current position. She had indeed come a long way, but not only did she not want to be by my side, she felt she had every right to kick me aside. Yet, I wasn’t sad. Her words confirmed what I had suspected for a while. The police gave me a sympathetic look. To avoid causing a scene, they had the manager call her out. After explaining the situation to Celeste, she looked at me, incredulous. “Asher, what are you doing now? Reporting to the police over a little money, is it really necessary?” Finn clutched his chest, coughing violently. Celeste hurriedly soothed him, her eyes full of worry and anger, then glared at me: “Don’t you know Finn’s health is poor and can’t handle stress? If something happens to him, how will you take responsibility?” But I remember during our hardest winter, when I was feverish with a temperature of 104 degrees, she wasn’t this concerned. Instead, she told me to endure it to boost my immunity. I ended up with a chronic condition, struggling to breathe when the weather turned cold, and she never cared. I couldn’t help but snicker. “You’re still laughing! Asher, you’re so cold-hearted!” Celeste looked at me coldly: “If you’re making a fuss over this little money, I think you’re not fit to be my boyfriend. Let’s just break up.” “Fine, let’s break up.” I nodded. Celeste looked at me, shocked, her eyes widening. I knew she didn’t believe I would break up. In the past, whenever she mentioned breaking up, it was just a tactic to get her way, a means to threaten me. We both knew that, but I always found a way to appease her, even apologizing and asking for forgiveness when I wasn’t at fault. This was the first time I truly agreed to break up. Celeste’s lips quivered, as if she wanted to say something. Finn hastily chimed in: “Asher, I know you’re jealous, but Sister Celeste only said that out of anger. She doesn’t really want to break up with you, don’t agree to it.” He seemed to be pleading on my behalf, but I could still see the faint pride in his eyes. Sure enough, Celeste snorted: “Finn, no need to explain for him. Let’s break up, just hope he doesn’t regret it later.” With that, she grabbed Finn’s hand and started to leave. I raised my hand to stop them: “Since we’re breaking up, shouldn’t you return the money too?” I gestured to the police. When I made the report, I had already shown all the evidence, proving that Celeste had taken a large sum of my money without permission. The police nodded, advising Celeste to return the money if the situation was true, to avoid escalating it to court. Celeste didn’t respond, but Finn protested: “He used Sister Celeste’s card to buy dozens of cars before, yet she didn’t report it.” “If you want to report, go ahead. Now that we’ve broken up, you can settle our accounts too.” I looked at Celeste. I knew she didn’t want to report because she was afraid. If we really settled our accounts over the years, what Celeste owed me was far more than just four million. Finn wanted to argue, but seeing Celeste’s pale face, he wisely kept silent. Celeste gritted her teeth, glaring at me, then worked her phone for a while. “I transferred it. Are you satisfied now?” After saying that, she shot me a glare, grabbed Finn’s hand, and left. I thanked the police, went back to file the report, and then headed home. Just as I walked in, a colleague from the finance department called. “Asher, Ms. Celeste just withdrew over four million from the company’s funds.”

“The reconciliation is coming up, will you cover for her again this quarter?” Celeste often withdrew money from the company account. Initially, she remembered to pay it back, but eventually, she always forgot. She’d have the finance department wait until she couldn’t cover it at reconciliation, then they’d come to me. Each time, I’d use my own savings to fill the gap. I’d mentioned it to Celeste, but she called it trust. It wasn’t until last month that I discovered a large portion of Celeste’s expenses went to Finn. She didn’t trust me; she just saw me as a fool. “I won’t cover it this time. Report it as is,” I said calmly. “And don’t come to me for these things anymore; we’ve broken up.” Hearing this, the finance officer actually sighed in relief. “You finally came to your senses. I was going to advise you this time. Covering the company’s shortfall often takes a quarter of your total income. The company doesn’t seem like Ms. Celeste’s, it feels more like yours.” “After all, you’ve been managing it diligently for years. Even her tax evasion was covered by you. Without you, she wouldn’t have made it this far.” After hanging up, I reflected for a moment. I used to think we were one unit, that Celeste’s problems were my problems since we’d eventually marry. In hindsight, my thinking was laughable. Even outsiders could see my contributions, yet Celeste couldn’t. She was still trying to shake me off. I knew Celeste wouldn’t let this go easily. Sure enough, in the following days, she and Finn became bolder. Where they used to hide, now they held hands openly, fingers intertwined. Celeste used to find excuses. Now she directly assigned my projects to Finn, crediting him instead. Just as I entered the company doors, Finn handed me a mop. “Sorry, Asher. Sister Celeste said the company just paid out year-end bonuses, so funds are tight. We won’t be hiring cleaners for now, so internal staff will handle cleaning.” “Management should lead by example, and since you’ve done it before, you can start.” He looked at me, eyes full of mockery. I knew he was doing it on purpose. This wasn’t the first time. Once, when Finn broke a contract, I scolded him in public. Celeste claimed my emotions were unstable and made me clean the toilets for a week. As soon as I arrived at work that day, Finn handed me a mop. “Sorry, Asher,” he said. “Celeste mentioned that the company just paid out year-end bonuses, so funds are tight. We can’t afford a cleaning service right now, so we’ll have to handle the cleaning ourselves.” “Management needs to set an example,” he added with a smirk. “Since you’ve done this before, you should lead the way.” I knew he was doing this on purpose, mocking me with his smile. It wasn’t the first time. Previously, Finn had broken a contract, and when I called him out publicly, Celeste punished me by making me clean the bathrooms for a week, claiming I was being too emotional. “That’s too much!” Finally, a colleague couldn’t hold back and spoke up for me. “Why don’t you clean up for Asher then?” Finn sneered at him. “Clean what?!” The colleague grabbed the mop and tossed it back at Finn. “Asher, why are we still here? So many companies have tried to poach us, but we’ve stayed loyal to this company, to her. And this is how she repays us. She’s clearly trying to push us out.” Other colleagues chimed in, expressing their agreement. Soon enough, Celeste walked in with a stern expression. Finn, seeing her as his savior, exaggerated the story to her. “You want to leave? Then go ahead!” Celeste sneered. Another colleague tried to defend me, but Celeste retorted, “You must all have been bribed by Asher to speak for him.” The colleague was left speechless. I found her accusations laughable. Whenever anyone defended me, she would accuse them of being bribed, effectively shutting them up. Staying seemed pointless now. I began packing my things to leave. Seeing this, my colleagues also started packing. Celeste paused in shock and then got angry. Just as she was about to speak, Finn whispered something to her, and her expression softened. “Those who want to leave, may do so. But for those who stay, there’s a $5,000 monthly raise, and when the company goes public, you’ll receive stock options.” Several people paused and looked at her. I knew they were surprised that Celeste still hadn’t realized the company couldn’t go public anymore. Recently, the finance department had repeatedly raised concerns about the accounting issues, but she ignored them. They finally reported everything truthfully. They planned to inform her later, but last night, our competitor had already taken her to court. Celeste was oblivious, mistaking their pause for hesitation to leave. She looked smug. “I’m pleased with your decision. Tonight, our investors will be coming to evaluate us. As long as you all perform well, I won’t disappoint you.” “This year’s year-end bonus is a car, and if you do well, next year’s will be a house.” She glanced at me triumphantly, then whispered, “See, Asher? No matter how much you try to get them cars, in the end, it’s all about the money.” “As long as I offer enough, I can keep them here.” I was about to respond when the receptionist rushed in to inform Celeste, “Ms. Celeste, someone is here…” Before she could finish, Finn interrupted loudly. “Is it our business partner? They weren’t supposed to arrive until the evening. Maybe they see our potential.” Celeste also realized and sneered at me. “You’ll regret this now.” Just then, there was a commotion outside, and Celeste hurried to the door. She froze when she saw who it was. Two police officers entered. They presented their badges and said coldly, “Celeste, you’ve been reported for embezzling company funds and tax evasion. Please come with us for investigation.”

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During Freshman Orientation Week, my family’s housekeeper’s son publicly confessed his love for me. After I rejected him, he turned the whole class against me, isolating and bullying me. He even had his admirers put snakes in my bed to bite me. Driven to the brink of a mental breakdown, he pretended to help me, only to get me drunk and hand me over to the notorious class monitor and some street thugs. “I wanted you to marry me, then I’d spare your life. Now it’s perfect. Your mom only has me as her child, and all your family’s wealth will be mine.” I was tortured to death. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day of his confession. “Cassie, be my girlfriend. I’ll treat you like a princess!” Lucas Harrison knelt on one knee, holding a bouquet in one hand and a soda can tab in the other. “I’ll be good to you forever, trust me, okay?” “Get together! Get together!” “Oh my god, the teaching assistant is so handsome! And he’s rich too. Cassie is so lucky!” The voices bombarded my ears. Seeing the smugness in Lucas’s eyes, I finally realized – I had been reborn. Lucas had saved my mom’s life once, so she became his godmother. He and his mother pretended to be rich, but they were always spending my family’s money. I had tolerated all of this, but he went too far when he publicly confessed his love to me just to get his hands on my family’s fortune. After I rejected him, he harbored a grudge. He secretly had people bully me, then pretended to be a caring brother and invited the whole class to an entertainment venue, claiming he wanted to clear up any misunderstandings. But halfway through, he deliberately got me drunk and drugged my drink. As I was dizzy and disoriented, he dragged me into a room. Inside wasn’t just anyone, but Mark Lewis, the class monitor who had always been harsh on me. Mark was utterly despicable and tried to force himself on me. I bit my tongue to stay conscious and managed to escape. But outside the door, a group of thugs was waiting. I was violated to death. Mark, fearing for his reputation, worked with Lucas to tie my body to a rock and throw it in the river. They even used my phone to scam my mom out of millions. My poor mother lost her daughter in middle age. She searched for me day and night without sleep, aging a decade in just a few days. I clenched my fists tightly. “Slap!” Just as Lucas grabbed my hand to put the soda can tab on my finger, I gave him a hard slap. Under his surprised gaze, I sneered, “Tch, aren’t you supposed to be the young master of Sullivan Corp? Proposing with a soda can tab?” “What kind of rich heir is so cheap?” Lucas’s expression changed, and immediately someone came to his defense. “Lucas just thought you weren’t a materialistic girl. Who knew you were so money-hungry!” “It’s rare to find such a pure-hearted rich guy like Lucas these days.” Hearing this, I couldn’t help but laugh. “Rich guy? I’ve never heard of any Mr. Harrison in the Sullivan family. But I do know the Sullivan family’s housekeeper has a son named Harrison.” “Cassie Sullivan!” Lucas glared at me angrily. “That’s enough!” I leaned in close to him, my voice cold. “Now, apologize to me and get lost, or I’ll have your teaching assistant position revoked immediately.”

“Cassie Sullivan, what are you playing at? How dare you tell Lucas to get lost? Look at yourself in the mirror. Do you think you’re worthy of him?” I scanned them with a mocking smile. “I have excellent grades and I’m beautiful. He has beady eyes and a flat nose – looking at him would give me nightmares. Me, worthy of him? I’d be lowering my standards!” Lucas was so angered by my words that he couldn’t control his facial expressions. He shot me a vicious look, with a hint of confusion in his eyes. Perhaps he couldn’t understand why I had changed so much today? He gritted his teeth. “I was too forward today. I thought Cassie had feelings for me. I didn’t expect things to turn out like this.” “I’m sorry.” With that, he turned and left, pretending to be dejected. Many people started cursing at me behind my back. But this time around, I wouldn’t be as weak as in my past life. Just then, a whistle sounded from behind. Mark Lewis, the one who had a hand in my death in my previous life, walked out. I saw him exchange a glance with Lucas in the distance before he angrily reprimanded me. “Cassie Sullivan! You’re violating discipline again!” Mark stared at me with hostility. “Always up to no good. Do you think Orientation Week is a place where you can do whatever you want? Run twenty laps around the field!” “On what grounds?” I said coldly. Mark’s face darkened. “You dare to argue! If it weren’t for you, why would all the students be gathered here wasting training time?” “And on the first day of orientation, you’ve altered your uniform to make it so small. What are you trying to show off? Everyone can see clearly. You’ve just entered college and you’re already learning bad habits, trying to seduce others. You have no self-respect!” Hearing this, everyone looked at me. Their gazes were scrutinizing, and some even lewdly scanned my entire body. “Monitor, you seem to have a selective memory. When we were given our uniforms, I asked for a size larger, but you insisted on giving me the smaller one. Now you’re using body shaming to attack me?” I laughed coldly. “Fine, I recorded it. The uniforms were distributed in the classroom, which has surveillance cameras. Why don’t we go ask the principal how they admitted such a perverted student with a dirty mind?” “You dare!” Mark grabbed me, his eyes full of warning. I skillfully dodged and punched him in the face. “Everyone, come look! The monitor is harassing a female student!” At this point, Lucas couldn’t sit still anymore. He quickly ran over. “Cassie, stop making a scene! Mark—” “Everyone, come look! The teaching assistant is harassing a female student! Could the female students please call the police for me!” Hearing about calling the police, the two men saw that the situation was getting out of hand and even tried to cover my mouth. Just then, the drill instructor walked over. “It’s break time. What’s going on here?” After a cacophony of explanations, the situation was finally clarified. The drill instructor gave Mark a cold glare, then looked meaningfully at Lucas. “During orientation, unauthorized personnel are not allowed to interfere.” Lucas’s face darkened. The head instructor ordered Mark to apologize to me before quickly taking them away. I also called the principal after class, and by the afternoon, Mark had been stripped of his monitor position. When he looked at me now, his eyes were full of venom. What’s there to be afraid of? I smirked. This was just the first step!

In the evening, to save face, Lucas invited the whole class to eat at the cafeteria. “Lucas, I heard Sullivan Corp donated a building to the school because you came to work here. That’s so generous.” “Our school is one of the top universities in the city. Lucas gave up working at the company to come here… he must be here to gain experience, right?” The classmates chattered away. Lucas neither confirmed nor denied, letting them talk. He enjoyed being the center of attention, as if he had the whole world in the palm of his hand. Just then, a girl said in a sarcastic tone, “Cassie Sullivan really has no luck. She offended Lucas and now she’ll never have the fortune to eat in the VIP dining hall.” As soon as she finished speaking, I sauntered past her, carrying two plates of food. The VIP dining hall was donated by my mom. I’ve been a picky eater since childhood. Worried that I wouldn’t adapt to the food, my mom specially donated a dining hall building, and the third floor was practically my private restaurant. Seeing this, everyone’s faces fell. The girl muttered, “She couldn’t have sold herself, could she?” As soon as the words left her mouth, a resounding slap landed on her face. Under her shocked gaze, my bodyguard stepped back and respectfully said to me, “Miss Sullivan, I’ve dealt with the foul-mouthed individual for you. Please enjoy your lunch.” I raised an eyebrow slightly. My mom taught me to be low-key, but some people are really despicable. If you’re low-key, they’ll think you’re easy to bully. So, after my confrontation with them this morning, I hired two bodyguards to protect me. My life comes first. Under the girl’s murderous gaze and Lucas’s gloomy eyes, I raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Lucas, can you afford this?” Sure enough, Lucas was provoked by me. In his anger, he took everyone to the most expensive area. After everyone had eaten and drunk their fill, the bill came to nearly ten thousand dollars. He trembled slightly in pain but pretended to be generous as he handed over his card. The cafeteria lady took it and swiped it on the machine. “Insufficient balance. Please top up.” Suddenly, the air went quiet. Lucas frowned slightly. He snatched the card back in disbelief and swiped it on the machine a couple more times. Still insufficient balance. He tried other methods, all showing no money. He cursed in frustration, then under the gaze of his classmates and the cafeteria lady, Lucas took out his phone and messaged me. “Cassie, come over quickly and let me use your meal card. Godmother said we should help each other in the new school.” I immediately blocked him. Having seen enough of the show, I turned to leave. Not wanting Lucas to be embarrassed, one of his admirers grabbed me. “Cassie Sullivan, here’s a chance for you to redeem yourself. Hurry up and pay for Lucas!” Seeing me, Lucas’s eyes lit up. He took a few steps towards me and pulled me over. “Use your meal card to pay. I’ll forget about what happened this morning and treat you even better in the future.” I rolled my eyes and kicked Lucas in the leg. He grimaced in pain, and I continued to twist the knife. “Used to being a beggar, aren’t you?” I showed everyone the message he sent me. “Using my family’s money to gain fame, then slandering me, and now ordering me around? The housekeeper’s son has really opened my eyes.” “Trying to mooch off me, huh?”

Everyone looked at Lucas with meaningful gazes. Some of the sharper ones seemed to have caught on to what was happening. “Cassie Sullivan!” Lucas’s face was ugly. In this life, he probably hated being called the housekeeper’s son more than anything. He clenched his fists tightly, wanting to hit me, but when he saw my bodyguards behind me, he immediately backed down. He gritted his teeth. “Cassie, we grew up together. Even if you don’t like me, you shouldn’t slander me like this.” “Which part of what I said was wrong?” I hadn’t said a single wrong word, but his admirer Wendy jumped out. “You’re not slandering him? If Lucas isn’t Mr. Sullivan’s son, why would Mr. Sullivan donate a building to the school?” “I heard this with my own ears.” “And how many expensive gifts has Lucas bought for you?” I laughed in disbelief. “You mean the 99-cent roses from the dollar store? The ones that lost their color? Or the random soda can tab he picked up from the street?” “You want this kind of treatment? Be my guest.” Wendy threw herself into Lucas’s arms, whining. “Lucas, look at what this gold digger is saying. She’s not even willing to spend ten thousand dollars on you. All the designer clothes and accessories she’s wearing were bought with your money. She doesn’t deserve your affection!” “I say, you should make her return everything and teach her a lesson!” I felt like I had just heard the joke of the century. I turned to look at Lucas. “You bought them? Can you even afford them?” Lucas coughed lightly, his eyes darting around. “You… you hurry up and pay. I’ll have my mom transfer the money to you later.” “Then why don’t you ask your mom to transfer it to you now?” I looked at him mockingly. Under everyone’s gaze, he sent a message to my mom, only to receive a red exclamation mark. Hmm, Special Assistant Wang did a good job. Before coming to the cafeteria, I had already asked Special Assistant Wang to freeze the cards of Lucas and his mother. Not only that, to prevent him from deceiving my mom, I directly had Special Assistant Wang block them all. Under everyone’s gaze, Lucas was extremely embarrassed. “I contacted the wrong person.” “Tsk, can’t even find the right mom.” I smiled and said, “You’re not planning to dine and dash, are you?”

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When the earthquake hit, I was trapped under the rubble alongside another woman. “She has a steel rod piercing her chest,” the doctor said, gesturing toward me. “She needs immediate attention, or she won’t make it.” Just as the rescue team was about to rush to me, my husband, Eric Blake, appeared out of nowhere. “Save her first!” he shouted, pointing at the other woman. “She’s pregnant!” I followed his gaze and saw the desperation in his eyes as he looked at her. But he didn’t know—I was pregnant too. The doctor attending to me called out urgently, “She’s losing too much blood! I suspect she has a clotting disorder. If we don’t act now, she won’t make it!” I nodded weakly, my vision blurry, silently begging Eric to choose me. But Eric’s voice was calm, deliberate, and unyielding. “I’m her husband,” he said, pointing at me. “If anything happens, I’ll take full responsibility.” Eric’s words made the rescue team hesitate for a moment, but ultimately, they turned away from me and went to the other woman. After all, with a family member willing to take responsibility, it didn’t matter who they saved first. I lay there on the cold, crumbling ground, my mind spinning with disbelief. Eric’s words echoed over and over in my head. The doctor and nurse working on me exchanged glances and couldn’t hold back their frustration. “Unbelievable,” one muttered. “His wife is critically injured, but he’s prioritizing another woman?” “And that woman doesn’t even look hurt,” the other nurse chimed in. “Just a few scrapes and bruises, but she’s acting like she’s the most injured person here.” “Seven years of marriage, and this is what she gets,” the first one added bitterly. “Her chest is literally impaled, and her husband doesn’t even blink an eye.” Their words cut deeper than the wound in my chest. I turned my head slightly and saw Eric cradling the other woman—her name was Lauren. His hands were trembling as he held her close, his face full of worry, guilt, and tenderness. It was a side of him I had never seen in all our years together. Not once, in seven years of marriage, had he ever looked at me like that. He wasn’t heartless. His heart just didn’t belong to me. It belonged entirely to Lauren. As my body grew colder, I realized I was losing the strength to hold on. If something didn’t change soon, I wouldn’t just lose my life—I’d lose my baby too. Summoning every ounce of energy I had left, I grabbed the nurse’s hand, my voice trembling. “Please,” I begged, “save me. I’m pregnant too…” Before the nurse could respond, Eric walked over, still holding Lauren in his arms. When he heard my words, his face twisted with disgust. “Even now,” he sneered, “you’re still trying to manipulate me with your little sob stories. How pathetic.” His words hit me like a slap. “You’re lying,” he continued coldly. “You’re just saying that to compete with Lauren. She’s the one who’s actually pregnant.” He turned to the doctor with a sharp tone. “Don’t waste your time on her. She’s perfectly fine. Check on Lauren instead—she needs a full examination.” I couldn’t fight anymore. My grip on the nurse’s hand loosened, and my vision dimmed. The nurse screamed, “She’s crashing! We’re losing her!” But Eric didn’t even glance my way. “I told you,” he snapped, “if anything happens, I’ll take responsibility. She’s just faking it. Focus on Lauren—she’s the priority here!” The doctor hesitated but ultimately followed Eric’s orders, leaving me behind to check on Lauren. Only the young nurse stayed by my side, her hand gripping mine tightly. “Hang on,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “We’re going to save you. I promise.” I tried to stay awake, but the pain was unbearable. Warm blood was seeping out of me, and no one seemed to care. As my tears fell silently, I had one last thought before slipping into unconsciousness: How could this hurt so much? Seven years of marriage, and when it came down to life or death, he didn’t even hesitate to choose someone else. I woke up in the ER, the blinding white light above me making me squint. “Hey,” a soft voice said. It was the young nurse who had stayed with me. Her eyes were red, and her voice wavered as she spoke. “You’re awake,” she said, relief flooding her face. “Thank God.” She hesitated, biting her lip before continuing. “Do you have another family member we can contact? We need someone to sign the anesthesia consent form.” I stared at her, confused. “We’ve been calling your husband,” she explained, “but he’s not answering.” My chest tightened. Of course, Eric wasn’t answering. He was probably too busy taking care of Lauren to even think about me. “It’s fine,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. “I’ll sign it myself.” The nurse looked at me with pity as I shakily scribbled my name on the form. As the pain threatened to pull me under again, I heard the faint murmur of voices from the staff around me. “Marriage really is a gamble, isn’t it?” one of them said. “Look at the guy with the pregnant woman—he’s treating her like she’s made of glass.” “Yeah,” another agreed. “And then there’s this poor woman. She’s on death’s door, and her husband’s nowhere to be found.”

The young nurse’s voice was uneasy, and when she noticed the whispered remarks from the other medical staff, she quickly interrupted, worried I’d overhear. “Please, stop talking!” she snapped. But I wasn’t upset. In fact, I almost wanted to laugh. What would they think if they knew the man they called a “good husband” had abandoned his wife and unborn child to fawn over another woman? None of it mattered anymore. The only thing I cared about now was saving my baby. As the anesthesia began to flow through my veins, I caught the nurse’s gaze and whispered weakly: “My baby…” But before I could say another word, the darkness swallowed me whole. When I opened my eyes again, the sharp smell of disinfectant filled my nose. The lingering effects of the anesthesia made my limbs feel heavy, but the first thing I did was lift a trembling hand to my stomach. “You’re awake! How are you feeling?” The young nurse, now standing in the doorway, let out a sigh of relief when she saw me stir. Her eyes sparkled with joy as she stepped closer, pulling the blanket snugly around me. “Don’t worry,” she said gently. “The baby is safe.” Hearing those words, I exhaled deeply, my heart easing for the first time in what felt like an eternity. But the nurse wasn’t finished. She pouted, her tone tinged with frustration as she continued. “Still… I don’t understand. Your husband treats you like this, but even when your life was on the line, all you cared about was his child. Is it really worth it?” I forced a weak smile, one that barely reached my eyes. “The baby is innocent,” I murmured. “At least they deserve a chance.” The nurse paused, her expression softening with sympathy. She nodded slowly, though her pity was clear in her eyes. Without saying more, she told me to rest and left the room. I tried to let sleep claim me again, my body heavy with exhaustion. But just as my eyes fluttered shut, muffled voices drifted in from the room next door. The voices were unmistakable. “Eric, it hurts so much,” a woman whimpered. “Lauren, I’m right here,” Eric replied in a voice so soft, so tender, that it sent a chill through me. My lashes trembled. I stared blankly at the ceiling, my chest tightening. “Eric… the baby…” Lauren continued, her voice laced with fragility. “Don’t worry,” Eric soothed her. “I’m here. The baby’s fine. I won’t let anything happen to you or the baby.” His tone was filled with a warmth I had never heard before—a patience and care he had never once shown me. “Shouldn’t you check on her?” Lauren asked hesitantly. “Your wife… she seemed really badly hurt.” And just like that, the warmth in Eric’s voice disappeared. “Why should you care about her?” he snapped. “You’re too kind, Lauren. That woman is manipulative and cruel. She even tried to lie about being pregnant just to steal resources from you. Someone like that… if she dies, it’s what she deserves.” My mind went blank, and before I could stop them, tears spilled from my eyes. The steel rod that had pierced my chest didn’t hurt nearly as much as the words Eric had just said. I couldn’t listen anymore. I forced my eyes shut, trying to block out the pain. When my condition stabilized, they moved me to a standard recovery room. I decided to call the housekeeper, Mary, to help take care of me. The phone rang for a long time with no answer. Just as I was about to hang up, the door creaked open. Mary walked in, carrying a food container. Our eyes met, and I immediately noticed the awkwardness in her expression. She looked startled and unsure, like she had walked into the wrong room. “Mary,” I said slowly, setting my phone aside. “Why didn’t you answer my call?” She hesitated, gripping the container tightly behind her back. “I… I’m here because Mr. Blake asked me to come,” she stammered. I let out a bitter laugh, though I wasn’t surprised. Of course Eric had sent her. If he could insist on saving Lauren during the earthquake, it was no stretch to think he’d send the housekeeper to care for her afterward. I cleared my throat and smiled faintly at Mary. “Well, since you’re here, why don’t you take me for a walk?” Mary hesitated for a moment but eventually nodded, pushing a wheelchair toward me. We stopped in front of Lauren’s room. Inside, I saw her lying on the hospital bed. She was young and beautiful, with flawless porcelain skin and delicate features. Her arched eyebrows framed a pair of clear, innocent eyes. When she noticed me, she didn’t look surprised. Instead, she regarded me with a calm, almost entitled expression. “Mary, who is this?” Lauren asked, her voice soft but filled with authority. I didn’t answer. I just stared at her in silence. Mary fidgeted nervously before clearing her throat. “She… she’s Mr. Blake’s wife,” Mary said, her voice barely above a whisper. Lauren’s expression shifted instantly. She put on an exaggerated look of pity, her voice turning saccharine. “Oh, so you’re Eric’s wife,” she said, emphasizing the word wife with a pointed sweetness. “Please don’t blame Eric,” she continued, her eyes brimming with fake remorse. “It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t gotten hurt… if I hadn’t been pregnant… Eric would never have left you to take care of me.” Her words dripped with mock humility, but I could hear the triumph hidden beneath her tone. I chuckled coldly. “Eric has terrible taste,” I said plainly. “If he likes you so much, he can have you. A man like that isn’t worth keeping.” I turned my wheelchair to leave, but before I could get far, I felt a sudden, violent shove from behind. The wheelchair slammed into the bedside table, and I was thrown to the ground. Pain shot through my body like fire, leaving me gasping. Mary rushed to help me, her face pale with panic. “Are you okay?” she cried, trying to lift me back into the chair. Behind me, Lauren’s voice was sickeningly sweet. “Oh no, I’m so sorry,” she said, her tone dripping with insincerity. “I didn’t mean to push you. I just got so anxious—I didn’t want you to misunderstand me and Eric.” Her words barely registered. A warm, wet sensation spread between my legs, and when I looked down, I saw blood staining my hospital gown. Lauren let out a dramatic gasp. “Oh no, she’s bleeding! Someone help! We need a doctor!” Her voice was filled with panic, but as our eyes met, I caught a fleeting glimmer of satisfaction in her gaze. They rushed me into the operating room, but this time, luck didn’t save me. When I woke up, my baby was gone. Eric was sitting beside the bed, his expression dark and brooding. For a brief moment, I thought he had finally realized what had happened. But his first words shattered that hope. “You shouldn’t have gone to see Lauren.” “What?” I whispered, staring at him in disbelief. Eric’s tone was cold and accusatory. “You brought this on yourself,” he said flatly. “If you’d just stayed in your room and left Lauren alone, none of this would’ve happened.” I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as I fought back tears. He didn’t even know about the baby. And he never would. Reaching into his pocket, Eric pulled out a pair of earrings and placed them on the bedside table. “What’s this?” I asked, my voice hollow. “It’s for you,” he said, clearing his throat. I recognized the earrings immediately. They were a pair I had once begged him to buy. Back then, he’d scolded me, saying a married woman shouldn’t waste money on frivolous things like jewelry. So why now? Eric’s next words answered my question. “There’s been a lot of media attention on the earthquake,” he said carefully. “And?” “And… reporters are coming to the hospital tomorrow. I need you to let Lauren take your place for the interview. She’ll pretend to be my wife.” Chapter 4 Eric’s shameless words disgusted me to the core. I couldn’t hold back and asked coldly, “And how exactly am I supposed to ‘let’ someone else be me?” Eric glanced at me, his tone calm, as if he’d already planned everything. “I’ve already taken care of it. The medical records have been swapped. No one will ever find out.” I stayed silent. Seeing my lack of response, Eric softened his voice, mistaking my silence for hesitation. “I know you’ve always wanted a child. Once you recover, we’ll have another one. I promise.” He leaned in slightly, his tone almost coaxing. “You know, my company is about to go public. This kind of publicity is exactly what we need to solidify its reputation. And with Lauren being a public figure, her involvement will draw even more attention.” He paused, as if delivering the final pitch of a business deal. “If we handle this right, it’ll be a win-win for all of us. This is for the greater good.” I couldn’t help but laugh—cold and bitter. Of course, even now, Eric’s only thoughts were for Lauren and himself. Not once, not for a single moment, had he considered me. “Fine,” I said flatly, nodding without hesitation. Relief washed over his face as he grabbed my hand, his voice suddenly filled with faux affection. “Thank you for understanding. We’re in this together, aren’t we? When I succeed, you’ll benefit too.” He stood up, patting my hand like a business partner sealing a deal. “Get some rest. I’ll check on you later.” But the irony was, he never came back. By the morning of the interview, Eric hadn’t visited once. Through some inquiries, I found out the press conference was being held in the hospital’s main hall. Ignoring the pain coursing through my still-healing body, I dragged myself there, timing my arrival perfectly. When I reached the crowded hall, reporters had already packed the space, their cameras clicking nonstop. Through the sea of people, I spotted Eric immediately. He was standing beside Lauren, who sat demurely in a wheelchair. Lauren had dressed herself to look as if she’d barely survived the disaster—her face pale, her arm in a sling, and a thin blanket draped over her lap. Eric stood behind her, his hands resting protectively on the wheelchair handles. They looked every bit the perfect, loving couple. Reporters swarmed them, microphones thrust forward as questions flew. “Ms. Hayes,” one reporter asked, “you’ve been through so much. Who would you say you’re most grateful to for surviving this ordeal?” Lauren gave a faint, angelic smile, her voice soft and delicate. “I want to thank the doctors who saved me. Without their incredible efforts, neither I nor my baby would be here today.” She paused strategically, her hand brushing over her stomach, before continuing: “But most of all, I want to thank my partner. During those life-and-death moments, his unwavering support gave me the strength to hold on.” The crowd erupted into applause, voices rising in admiration. “How inspiring! Your love must have only grown stronger through this experience.” “Absolutely. With so many families torn apart by the earthquake, it’s a miracle that the three of you made it out alive. You’re truly blessed.” Another reporter turned to Eric, their voice brimming with praise. “Mr. Blake, not only are you a successful businessman, but you’re also a devoted husband. You’re an inspiration to men everywhere. Do you have any advice for others on how to balance work and love so perfectly?” Eric, ever the performer, bent slightly toward the microphone. He looked down at Lauren with a gaze so tender it made me sick to my stomach. He cleared his throat, preparing to deliver yet another well-rehearsed line. But before he could say a word, I stepped forward. Pushing through the crowd, I walked directly toward him, clutching the item I had brought with me. The room fell silent as I approached, my every step echoing in the tense air. And then, without hesitation— SLAP! The sound of my palm striking Eric’s face echoed through the hall. He stumbled back, nearly losing his balance, his hand flying to his cheek in shock. The room erupted into chaos. Reporters gasped, their cameras whirring as they turned to capture the scene. “Lydia, what the hell are you doing?!” Eric shouted, his voice a mix of anger and disbelief. But I didn’t look at him. My gaze was locked on Lauren, who stared at me wide-eyed, frozen in her wheelchair. I pointed directly at her, my voice sharp and unyielding. “She’s your wife?” I said, my tone dripping with sarcasm. “Then who am I? Did you ever stop to think about our child?” Eric’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. Before he could respond, I reached into my arms and tore away the black cloth I’d been holding. Gasps filled the room as I revealed the small, square box underneath. It was a child’s urn.

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That summer when I was 18, Ryan took my virginity. I endured the pain, but secretly felt happy all night long, thinking my six years of secret love had finally come to fruition. Until the next day, when I overheard his friends teasing him: “Not bad, you scored with the class beauty.” I felt embarrassed and was about to quietly leave. Then I heard Ryan’s casual reply: “I want to pursue the school beauty, but I’m afraid she’ll think I’m too inexperienced. “So I’m using Mia to practice my skills first.” I didn’t say anything. At the last moment before the deadline, I silently changed my college application from New York to Florida. Ryan’s words hit me like a bolt from the blue, completely catching me off guard. My mind went blank instantly. On such a hot summer afternoon, I felt chills all over my body. The conversation in the classroom continued. The others seemed stunned for a moment before speaking again. “As expected of Ryan, even the class beauty is just practice for him.” “Doesn’t that make her like, you know, a maid for ‘special services’ in those old wealthy families?” Ryan laughed carelessly: “Don’t talk nonsense. It’s not like she’s losing out.” Someone immediately agreed. “That’s right, the class beauty has gotten a bit thin. Compared to the school beauty, her figure is…” Ryan irritably threw a book at him, interrupting his comment. “It was just a moment of impulse. The mood was right, and she seemed to be struggling to hold back too…” The others exchanged knowing looks and teased him: “Who would’ve thought the class beauty was the sultry type.” “Tsk tsk, it’s our Ryan’s irresistible charm. Might as well eat the meat right in front of you.” “The class beauty has been chasing after Ryan for so many years. I guess she finally got her wish. She probably wanted to jump him long ago.” The laughter in the room grew noticeably louder. I bit my lip hard, my hands clenched into tight fists. It took all my strength to keep steady and not collapse at the classroom door. Footsteps approached from the end of the hallway. I snapped back to my senses and fled the scene in a panic. In my confusion, I hid in a bathroom stall.

Tears of heartbreak and humiliation were already flowing freely. Ryan’s words echoed in my mind over and over, nearly destroying all of my self-esteem. If I hadn’t heard it with my own ears, I never would have believed that he was the same person who had been so passionately intimate with me just last night. So it turns out you can do such intimate things even without love. Even in the most passionate, irrational moments, it’s possible to lie and deceive. What I foolishly thought was the culmination of our relationship was nothing more than a joke to others. The more I cried, the more upset I became. But I didn’t dare make any loud sounds. My body kept shaking uncontrollably. After a long while. My phone buzzed with a message notification. It was from Ryan. [Take a cab home yourself. My class is having a party tonight, so it’s not convenient for me to take you.] I didn’t reply. He added another message. [Remember to buy the morning-after pill yourself. I’m too busy today. Make sure to take it, be good.] I stared at these two messages for a long time, speechless. Last night, from dusk till dawn, Ryan had worn me out over and over again. Before falling asleep exhausted in each other’s arms, he had whispered twice: “I wasn’t fully prepared for our first time. I’ll definitely buy you the pill tomorrow.” He even reminded me that girls need to protect themselves, and that I must take the morning-after pill or it could be very harmful to my body. At the time, I thought he was being so responsible towards me. I thought I had finally found my happiness. But now… In an instant, I sobered up considerably. I pinched my palm hard, forcing myself to stop crying. I wiped away my tears, composed myself, and left the bathroom. Too embarrassed to go to the pharmacy, I just ordered the pill online. After the delivery driver left it at the door, I waited a long time before I dared to sneak out and retrieve it. After swallowing the pill with tears in my eyes, I seemed to lose all my strength. I just sat numbly on the carpet, staring blankly. Ever since Ryan’s family moved in next door, I had followed him around like a little puppy for ten years. I had never imagined what a world without him would be like. I didn’t dare to imagine it. But from now on, I would be alone. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, lights came on one after another, then gradually went out. I don’t know how much time passed before my best friend Lily video called me. “Mia, why didn’t you come to our class party with Ryan tonight? “That Claire from the liberal arts class showed up instead. She’s been clinging to Ryan while you’re not here. The two of them are being so gross.” Lily turned the camera to show me.

In a dark corner of the private room, Ryan and Claire, the school beauty, were sitting very close together. Claire was wearing a crop top and tight jeans tonight, showing off her slim waist and long legs. The two of them were clearly separated from the rest of the group. Even when they talked, it looked like they were whispering sweet nothings to each other. The flirtatious atmosphere was palpable even through the screen. My chest tightened uncontrollably. Ryan had just said this afternoon that he wanted to pursue her. It seems he had already succeeded by evening. Claire drew a “Truth or Dare” card that required her to do push-ups with a guy on top. She had to choose a male participant. Unsurprisingly, Ryan immediately volunteered. Everyone started cheering and teasing them. Claire’s face turned red as she obediently lay down on the sofa. Ryan positioned himself above her and easily did dozens of push-ups. He was very restrained the whole time, carefully avoiding touching Claire’s body. Until the very last one, whether he finally lost his strength or did it on purpose. He couldn’t hold himself up and collapsed directly on top of Claire. The screams around them grew even louder, nearly taking the roof off. Ryan and Claire’s faces turned even redder. Amid the crowd’s frenzied cheering, Ryan simply lowered his head and kissed Claire. The two of them made out passionately, oblivious to everyone else. It went on for a full three minutes before they reluctantly separated. During those endless three minutes, I stared at the screen unblinkingly, so shocked I almost forgot to breathe. My heart felt like it was being torn apart. I wanted to cry, but I had cried too much earlier without drinking water, so I had no tears left. “Tsk tsk tsk, Mia did you see that clearly? They were French kissing with tongue and everything. He’s totally into her.” Lily sighed as she turned the camera and left the private room. She found a quiet corner and earnestly advised me: “Mia, don’t blame me. If I didn’t let you see it with your own eyes, you wouldn’t give up on him.” My throat was dry and the sounds I made were barely audible. “Mm, I don’t blame you.” I only blame myself for being so stupid for so many years. I thought that since I was always allowed to follow Ryan around, that position by his side would always be mine. “I just can’t stand Ryan. What gives him the right to string you along for years, knowing you like him, pretending to be an innocent boy while watching you fall deeper and deeper. “Now you’ve seen it clearly. I really hope you’ll seriously reconsider. Don’t let him waste another four years of your life in college…” “I won’t, Lily.” I interrupted her, stating calmly. “I won’t give myself another chance. “Lily, I’ve decided. I’m going to college in Florida with you. “But you have to promise to keep it a secret for now.”

After saying that, to prevent myself from hesitating again, I opened my laptop in front of her. Without any hesitation, at the last minute before the deadline, I changed my first choice to that famous university in Florida. Lily was of course overjoyed. She had been begging me to apply to the same school for a long time. But when we first started high school, I had already made a promise with Ryan that we would work hard together and go to his dream school in New York after the SATs. That’s where his favorite aerospace program was. So even though I didn’t particularly like the cold North, and didn’t have much interest in that engineering-focused school, for all three years of high school, I still made it my goal. After being neighbors for so many years, both sets of parents were happy for us to go to the same college. Everyone, including me, thought that Ryan and I would naturally become a couple after we became adults. But now, I couldn’t find any reason to go to New York anymore. Or rather, after today, if I still clung to Ryan like before. I would despise myself. Now I just wanted to hide far away. It didn’t matter where, as long as Ryan wasn’t there. If he was in the North, then I would go South.

Before bed, I filled the entire bathtub, wanting to thoroughly wash myself clean. But when I took off my clothes, the bruises on my skin were still very visible. Memories of last night came flooding back uncontrollably. The scorching heat of the young man’s skin as we embraced tightly, the burning breath in my ear as we made love, the lingering warmth still seemed to surround me. I shook my head vigorously, trying to get rid of these wild thoughts. I found the roughest loofah and scrubbed my skin over and over again, only stopping when my whole body turned red. Clumsily trying to erase this most shameful memory of my life. As a result, I was in so much pain that I couldn’t sleep well all night. Ryan indeed didn’t send any more messages. Breaking the habit we’d had for six years, ever since we got phones, of saying goodnight to each other without fail. This was for the best. It would have happened sooner or later anyway. Might as well start detoxing from tonight. I dozed off fitfully until nearly dawn. The next morning while I was still sound asleep, I suddenly felt someone plant a light kiss on my forehead in my dream.

I woke up with a start. But what I saw when I opened my eyes was a familiar chin and Adam’s apple. The scent enveloping me from above was Ryan’s favorite cedar fragrance, along with a faint, unfamiliar hint of lemon. I had almost forgotten, Ryan still knew the passcode to my front door. Seeing that I was awake, Ryan simply moved lower, chuckling as he tried to kiss my lips. I hurriedly turned my head to avoid it. I pushed him away and retreated to the other side of the bed. Ryan was stunned for a moment, then laughed at me: “Why so shy now? Hmm?” I didn’t say anything, just pulled the covers over my head. Ryan scolded me while trying to pull off my blanket. “Mia, you’ve gotten bold, huh? You didn’t even say goodnight to me last night, and you dared to turn off your phone and go to sleep. “Now you’re hiding from me?” He deftly slipped under my covers. Before I could react, he had wrapped me in his arms. “Be good, how many times have I told you not to skip breakfast. “I went for a 30-minute run specially to get you those crab roe buns you love. I queued for ages. “Do you want to get up and eat now, or do you want to… be eaten first…” His breath was very close to me, and his hands started roaming. Fully awake now, I struggled desperately. But at 5’3″, I was no match for a 6’2″ man. I really couldn’t understand what he was thinking. He already had Claire, why was he still messing with me? After struggling hard for a while, I was panting heavily. I hadn’t broken free, but was held even tighter. “What are you throwing a tantrum about now? “Are you angry? Just because I didn’t take you to the party last night? Such a trivial thing?” I didn’t say anything. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, laughing out loud. “Let me guess, your good friend Lily tattled to you? “It was just a game, is that worth being jealous over? “Why are you still like before, getting all sulky whenever I get a little close to other girls.” I was furious beyond words, with no idea where to even begin. Remembering what I learned during freshman orientation, I suddenly raised my knee and kicked him between the legs, then quickly ran off the bed while he was in pain. “Mia!” Ryan gritted his teeth, his face turning red. I hurriedly threw on a shirt over my pajamas and rushed to the living room. I didn’t want to be in the same room as him, especially not my bedroom. Not long after, Ryan also came out, looking both angry and helpless. After a long while, he seemed to suddenly remember something and casually asked: “By the way, you took the pill yesterday, right?” “Don’t cause any trouble. We can’t explain it to our parents.” Ryan walked to the dining table and picked up a soy milk, handing it to me. “Be good, eat something before you get angry. Your stomach isn’t great to begin with.” I didn’t say anything, nor did I take it. Ryan’s hand holding the soy milk hovered in the air for a long time before he finally lost patience. “What exactly is the matter? “Mia, even if you’re throwing a tantrum, there should be a reason and a limit, right?” I coldly replied: “I’m not worthy.” Ryan got angry too, slamming the soy milk down hard on the coffee table. He used too much force. The plastic cup cracked and all the soy milk instantly spilled onto the carpet. “What do you mean? “Who do you think you are, Mia? “We just slept together once by mutual consent, and now you want to control me? Don’t you know how suffocating that is?” His tone was unprecedentedly fierce. In an instant, tears streamed down my face without any buildup. Yesterday’s humiliation and grievances all came rushing back. Ryan seemed unprepared for my sudden intense crying and was at a loss for what to do. He apologized regretfully: “I’m sorry, I drank too much last night. I spoke impulsively just now.” Ryan crouched down beside me as he spoke, reaching out to wipe away my tears, but I dodged him again. He was stunned, his hand frozen in midair. Just as he was about to continue comforting me, his phone suddenly rang. He glanced at it once, his expression changing drastically. He immediately got up to leave. “I have an urgent matter to attend to. Calm down by yourself first. “We’re in college now. You can’t always act like a child. Who else could put up with that in the future?”

Less than half an hour after he left, Lily sent me a screenshot. It was Claire’s social media post. [Claire: Just said I was hungry, and a loving breakfast magically appeared! Feels like my crush and I are moving towards each other~] The photo showed packaging identical to the crab roe buns on my dining table. I didn’t reply. I just silently wiped away my tears and crouched down to carefully clean up the soy milk Ryan had spilled. After trying for a long time, I sadly discovered that the stain had seeped deep into the wool carpet and couldn’t be removed no matter what. In a fit of anger, I simply threw out the entire carpet. It was the one Ryan and his parents had carefully chosen and carried back for me after an entire afternoon of shopping during their trip to Nepal anyway. While I was at it, I gathered up all of Ryan’s things left at my place, as well as all the big and small gifts he had ever given me. I even collected all our photos together. It took me all day to pack everything up and throw it away. I guess he wouldn’t want these old things anymore either. After Ryan left that day, there was no news from him for several days in a row. I suppose things were going well with the school beauty. Or maybe he was waiting for me to give in first. In the past, I had always been the one to make up first after every cold war, without exception. But this time I didn’t reach out to him. There was no need to reach out anymore. I blocked his SnapChat and phone number, changed my home’s door passcode, and deleted all my social media accounts. After doing all this, I called my parents who were away on business trips. I told them I wanted to visit my aunt in America during the summer break. My plan was to spend the summer there, then go straight down south with Lily to start college when the break was over. Except for Lily, no one else knew I had applied to a school in Florida. This plan should perfectly avoid any chance of running into Ryan. Mom still teased me on the phone, “Oh my, are you and Ryan going on vacation together?” I made up an excuse to deny it, not wanting to explain too much. I just told her I wanted to spend time with my aunt and grandmother. I begged Dad to buy me a ticket on the soonest flight. I was planning to fly out that very night. As I was leaving, I unfortunately ran into Ryan’s mom at the entrance of our building. She warmly greeted me: “Mia, why are you alone here? Didn’t Ryan come to pick you up? “Didn’t he say he was taking you skiing in New Zealand? Go and have a great time, Auntie fully supports you two.” I was a bit confused. During our intense SAT prep period, I had indeed mentioned to Ryan that I wanted to go skiing in New Zealand to experience winter in the Southern Hemisphere. But given our current situation, how could we possibly go on a trip together? However, I was running out of time, so I just hastily made some vague replies before leaving. But what I didn’t expect was that at the airport, I actually ran into Ryan.

He was with a group of friends. Claire was there too. Ryan was carrying a woman’s handbag in one hand, his other arm around Claire’s waist. They were walking at the back of the group. From time to time Claire would turn her head to say something to him, and Ryan would always cooperate, patiently bending down to listen. Not like with me. Ryan had always been a head taller than me since we were kids, and he kept getting taller. When I was with him, I always had to jump up and down and lift my head to talk to him. It turns out he will lower his head for someone he truly cares about. I took a deep breath. Telling myself I must have some dignity. Whatever he does has nothing to do with me anymore. If I keep overthinking, I’ll slap myself. But there seemed to be only one path to the departure gates. I could only follow far behind them. Finally, we reached a fork in the path. Ryan seemed to be getting a bit distracted. He made several phone calls that didn’t go through, then fiddled with his phone for a while. In the end, he borrowed a friend’s phone and walked to a nearby restroom with a gloomy expression. Not long after, my phone suddenly rang. It was an unknown number. “Mia, you’re really angry this time, huh? You won’t reach out to me unless I contact you first? “You even blocked me? “If you have the guts, then just keep not contacting me. Let’s see who will take care of you when you’re all alone in an unfamiliar place in New York.” Ryan’s tone was harsh as he berated me nonstop. I didn’t say anything. There was really no way to respond to that. But Ryan seemed to get even angrier. “I won’t say much more. Hurry up and add me back on SnapChat. “I’m about to go abroad with some friends for a couple days, so I might not be reachable by phone. Don’t worry and cry.”

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In my previous life, my dad disappeared mysteriously after going mountain climbing, but we found a suicide note he’d left in a drawer beforehand. He claimed he was bankrupt, depressed, and had let Mom and me down, so he ended his life on the mountain. The police found Dad’s clothes and bloodstains at the foot of a cliff. Mom blamed herself, thinking she’d driven Dad to his death, and fell into a deep depression. It wasn’t until I had to take a part-time job as a food delivery driver to pay off Dad’s debts that I discovered the owner of a luxurious mansion had the same ordering habits as my deceased father. I started investigating and found that the mansion was occupied by my supposedly dead father and his soulmate. My father noticed my investigation, and to keep the truth hidden, he brutally murdered Mom and me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Dad said he was going mountain climbing. I smirked. Since you’re so eager to die, I’ll help you on your way. In the darkness, the sound of running water in the bathroom was unusually clear. The man in the shower was humming a tune, his mood far too cheerful for someone about to end his life. I tiptoed over to his freshly packed bag and immediately spotted the plastic bag containing the bloodstained clothes. This was it. Today was the day. In my previous life, my father, Richard Grant, had deliberately sent Mom and me away, left a suicide note, and faked his death by jumping off a cliff. After he went missing, the police found the bloodstained clothes at the foot of the mountain and concluded he “couldn’t have survived.” When Grandma heard this “terrible news,” she slapped Mom ten times with her wrinkled hands. “You two women drove my son to his death!” she screeched. “If it weren’t for you, you vain woman, my son wouldn’t have needed to start a company. He went bankrupt and couldn’t even tell you, so he had to go and die in secret…” The suicide note was full of Dad’s heartache and love for us, with only a brief mention of the astronomical debts he owed at the end. When Mom learned the truth, she was devastated. For the rest of her life, she lived in a cycle of debt repayment and self-blame. As for my grandmother, who was supposed to be “outliving her own child,” she had already secretly claimed a huge insurance payout and was traveling the world. A few years later, I accidentally discovered the truth about Dad’s fake death. It turned out that the luxurious mansion I often delivered food to was home to my father, who should have been long dead! He and his soulmate, Rose Simmons, already had a child together and were living an idyllic life in their 10,000-square-foot home. After staking out the place a few times, I even saw my grandmother, who would often come to our house crying poverty and begging for money! Unfortunately, they discovered me during my quest for the truth. At Rose’s urging, my biological father, Richard Grant, stabbed me twenty-one times. “I brought you into this world, so it’s only fitting that I send you out,” he said. As I lay bleeding and in agony, I was reborn, back to the day before my dad’s departure.

Quickly piecing together my memories from my past life, I was determined not to let my dad succeed this time. After his shower, thinking no one was home, Dad made a phone call without any attempt to hide his words. “Don’t worry, Rose. By dawn, we’ll be together forever.” “The money’s being processed. We just need to wait three more days for it all to be laundered and transferred to our account.” “I know Wendy’s personality best. Even her daughter knows she’s a love-struck fool. Once I get my mom to put on a crying act, she’ll definitely shoulder all the debts herself…” As a husband intent on squeezing every last penny from his wife, Richard Grant knew my mom inside out. For over a decade, he’d been the pinnacle of a loving husband and father on social media! Initially, everyone who doubted him for marrying above his social status gradually changed their minds. In my previous life, after the suicide note was discovered, many people even consoled Mom. They said Dad wasn’t a bad person at heart, just unlucky. Who could have imagined he would fake his own death to commit insurance fraud with a fortune in tow? As dawn broke, I heard Dad’s footsteps in the living room. It seemed he was eager to leave. After the door slammed shut, I emerged from my hiding place in the storage room and headed straight for the study. In the open drawer lay the freshly written suicide note, the ink still glistening. The contents were etched in my memory. “My beloved Wendy, this is the last love letter I’ll ever write to you. It’s my fault that I couldn’t give you the life you deserved, even after trying my hardest. Meeting you used up all my luck in this world.” “The company’s situation is dire, and I can no longer sustain it. I’m sorry I couldn’t bring myself to tell you. The only way out now is death.” “Please don’t grieve after I’m gone. All I ask is that you take care of my mother. We’ve been alone for so long, and it hasn’t been easy. Even as a spirit in another world, I’ll watch over you and our daughter. Your departed husband, Richard.” The back of the note was covered in bills. Just a few of those numbers added up would be enough to crush our mother-daughter duo for the rest of our lives. In my previous life, this suicide note was “accidentally” discovered by my grandmother. At the time, despite being barely literate, she immediately recognized what was inside and read it aloud in front of everyone. Every word dripped with false sentiment, but the countless unpaid bills were a harsh reality. Mom was already dazed from Grandma’s beating at that point. Looking back now, it was full of holes. With a loud rip, I tore the absurd paper to shreds. I opened the laptop in the study and found Dad’s company email. I easily logged in using a combination of Rose’s birthday. If it’s a suicide note he wants, I can write one too. In the email, I composed a new suicide note in Dad’s voice, pouring out his heart. I detailed how he had driven the company to bankruptcy and his plans to fake his death and run away. I confessed all the methods of his scheme in crystal clear detail. At the end, I made sure to express his earth-shattering love for Rose Simmons, his secretary and lover. “My darling Rose, don’t worry. The secret overseas account will contact you soon. Even if the whole company has to go down with me, I won’t let you suffer a single day of hardship.” The true recipient of this suicide note shouldn’t be my mom. Feeling satisfied with my handiwork, I hit the send button to all 305 contacts. The outbox instantly filled with countless records. Outside, the sky had fully brightened, and I received a message from the hiker I’d asked to keep watch. The short video showed Dad taking out the bloodstained clothes from the plastic bag, meticulously staging his own death scene. Through the screen, I watched everything with a cold smirk. “Oh, Dad, why rush to die when your grand love affair hasn’t even been witnessed by the world yet?”

When the police came to the door, I deliberately sent Mom away and answered it myself. “Hello, are you Richard Grant’s family?” one officer asked. “We received a report that he’s been missing for over twenty-four hours. We’re here to gather some information.” “That’s impossible, officer. My dad is on a business trip in New York. How could he be missing?” I replied calmly. “Are you sure he went on a business trip?” the officer pressed. Facing the police inquiry, I explained with composure. “Of course. My dad told us himself the night before last. Let me call my mom; she should still have the voice message Dad sent on her phone.” “By the way, officer, who reported this?” The two policemen glanced at their body cameras and exchanged looks. “Um, the reporter’s name is Rose Simmons. She said she’s the company secretary.” Things were starting to get interesting. Just then, the elevator doors behind us opened. “Wendy Curtis, you poisonous woman! Give me back my son’s life!” my grandmother shouted before she even saw our faces. Behind her were a bunch of relatives, all trying to squeeze in with an intimidating air. Her small, frail body swung a cane, aiming for my head. “Ava, who are you talking to at the door? Why haven’t you come in yet?” Mom called out, finally drawn by the commotion. Sharp-eyed, I quickly pulled Mom down to duck, and the tall police officer swiftly caught the cane. “Hey, why are you swinging that as soon as you arrive? Who are you people?” the officer demanded. “I’m her mother-in-law. She killed my son, so I have every right to hit her!” Grandma retorted self-righteously. The police were clearly displeased with Grandma’s words. “Ma’am, we live in a society governed by law. Even if you’re her mother-in-law, you can’t just hit people.” “Besides, the report we received only mentioned a missing person. How are you so certain your son is dead?” The atmosphere in the hallway suddenly shifted. Mom, still unaware of the truth, looked completely bewildered. I briefly explained to her about Dad being reported missing, and Mom immediately lost her composure. She took out her phone, about to try calling Dad, when Grandma snatched it away. “Stop pretending! My son must have been driven to his death by you,” Grandma accused. “Mom, what are you talking about? Richard told us himself he was going on a business trip to New York. Why do you insist he’s dead?” Mom snapped back, grabbing her phone. She found Dad’s voice message and played it for everyone to hear. The brief message clearly stated his destination and purpose. “Wendy, I’m heading to New York for a business trip. You and Ava should stay at your dad’s place for a couple of days!” The relatives who had been quick to jump to conclusions now looked at Grandma suspiciously. After all, they knew what kind of person she was. “That’s definitely Richard’s voice. That boy has always spoken softly, raised by his mother to be as delicate as a little girl,” one aunt commented. “Wait, how did Third Aunt know her son was gone?” another relative asked. “Yeah, we came in such a rush. On the way here, Third Sister kept repeating only one thing—that her son was driven to death by his daughter-in-law. When we asked for more details, she would just cry.” “Could there be some misunderstanding? We shouldn’t stick our necks out just for a free meal.” So all this commotion was just for a free meal? Grandma sure was stingy. Just like in my previous life. After receiving the huge insurance payout, Grandma had kept a large portion for herself. She traveled, wined, and dined, showing off her luxurious life in the family group chat, making everyone envious. Later, if it weren’t for her refusing to lend money to her own nephew for medical treatment, I wouldn’t have learned from my cousin about Grandma’s lavish lifestyle while she cried poverty. Too bad, I thought. She probably won’t even get to treat them to that meal now.

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My wife, Amelia Johnson, and I had been childless by choice for seven years. She decided to be a surrogate for her best friend, Michael Harris. I watched her sweetly smile as she talked on the phone. “The child will inherit all of Charlie’s fortune. We won’t even need to raise them.” Then she texted me: [Honey, surrogacy isn’t cheating. He’s gay! What are you worried about?] When I suggested terminating the pregnancy, she responded with divorce papers. Amelia told me not to have regrets, and her words cut deep. I crumpled up my kidney cancer diagnosis in my hand. Who would be the one with regrets now? After seven blissful years of marriage with Amelia, I was blindsided on our anniversary with the news that she’d agreed to be a surrogate for her male best friend. I had always desperately wanted a child of my own. Yet I’d gotten a vasectomy out of concern for her health. And now here she was, willingly enduring IVF treatments to have a baby for her best friend? What did that make me? “I know you don’t like kids. Once the baby’s born, I’ll hand it straight over to him. He’s gay and can’t have kids of his own. Isn’t that tragic enough?” Amelia stated with absolute conviction. I opened my mouth, but no words came out. As an orphan, I’d always dreamed of having my own family. How could she think I didn’t want children? Sure, I was married, but Amelia was having someone’s baby. How did that give me the family I longed for? Just then, a nurse interrupted our conversation. “Mr. Charlie Jones, the results from your wife’s specially ordered medical examination are ready.” “Go get the reports from the nurse,” Amelia quickly told me, pressing her thermos into my palm. “You rushed out this morning without breakfast, so I made some chicken soup. I was worried about your stomach.” The medical staff nearby made appreciative noises. Those little gestures that once felt so sweet now just made me uncomfortable and tense. I couldn’t stop thinking about what I’d accidentally overheard earlier when I arrived early at the entrance. “The child will inherit all of Charlie’s fortune. We won’t even need to raise them.” Those words kept echoing in my mind, each repetition like a bell tolling numbly against my heart. The nurse kept chattering in my ear. “Your wife really takes such good care of you, sir. Some of these specialist appointments have a six-month waiting list. Seven years of checkups. She’s really devoted to you.” “Is that so?” I forced a smile, though it felt more like a grimace. After collecting all the medical reports, I frowned deeply at the final page. I rushed to the obstetrics department, only to learn Amelia had already left. My phone buzzed with over a dozen messages from her, fussing about the cold weather and saying she’d asked my secretary to bring me a scarf. She wrote that I hadn’t been sleeping well lately, so she’d gone ahead to handle some company business for me. She mentioned she had a big surprise planned for our seventh anniversary. The messages kept coming, one after another, each seemingly showing how much she cared. Through the rearview mirror, the cab driver grinned and teased, “Must be your wife, huh? She can’t bear to be apart from you. Your phone’s blowing up with messages.” The radio volume in the car gradually increased as the female host read cheerfully, “Today marks the seventh anniversary of Mrs. Jones, wife of the Jones Group CEO. On this special day, she wants to tell him…” The driver clicked his tongue and remarked, “Now that’s what I call hitting the jackpot. A self-made man marries a rich wife! She even changed her company name for him, and she’s totally devoted. Wonder how he pulled that off.” I could only manage a bitter smile. As I pushed open the car door and entered the company, reaching my office floor, party poppers exploded in the air. The entire floor was decorated with baby-themed ornaments. The employees joyfully congratulated me on having a son. Candles and roses created a pathway, and at the end stood Amelia, smiling at me. My phone buzzed with a notification, and I hesitantly opened the video. Her so-called “best friend” was tangled intimately with her on our marriage bed. Did she ever truly love me?

I didn’t know if someone’s love could be a facade for seven years. The videos I saw and the conversations I overheard at the hospital, combined with all these baby decorations in front of me, made my stomach churn and my face turn pale. Amelia came over and affectionately took my hand. The swelling in her hands and feet and the backache from pregnancy were noticeable now. Just standing for a moment made cold sweat break out on her forehead and nose. My assistant Alex Wills whispered that Amelia had put up all these decorations herself, saying she didn’t want anyone else touching our seventh-anniversary preparations. Amelia pulled me into the office, where her male best friend had already prepared a cup of hot water for her. “Tonight’s family dinner. Dad finally agreed to let me bring you!” That was her surprise. “Don’t be mad that I announced at work that the baby is ours. How else could we fool Dad? It is perfect! We can use the little one to get his approval finally.” As a poor guy who married a rich man’s daughter, I’d gotten nothing but cold shoulders from her family for seven years. Amelia had been caught in the middle, and thinking about that made my heart soften a bit. Michael leaned in with a grin, arm around her shoulders. “Hey, you should be thanking your friendly sperm donor here. Charlie’s shooting blanks, after all.” My supposed infertility was just a lie we made up when Amelia was afraid of having kids, and I got a vasectomy to back up the story. Before I could object, Amelia glared at him and pointed her finger in his face, demanding he apologize to me. “How many times do I have to tell you not to touch me? I’m a germaphobe! Anyone but my husband makes my skin crawl!” Michael quickly threw up his hands in surrender. This act had been performed hundreds, thousands of times in front of me over the past seven years. I truly believed they were just best friends, never seeing anything wrong with it. Now, it just makes my eyes ache to think about it. I could finally hear the challenge hidden beneath his playful tone. Amelia excitedly told me, “I really took one for the team this time! You wanted that land in the south district, right? Well, he said he’d give it to us directly. And about that bidding process, you’ve been stressing over. I’ll sweet-talk him tonight. With this baby, my dad will definitely help you out.” Over these two weeks, she’d traveled across half of the country for me, compiling detailed market research, leaving nothing out. Michael made a snide comment about her taking care of herself, “Some people, hmph, they’re so eager to help their husband that they ignore their morning sickness. Wonder who was throwing up bile the other day?” I kept my eyes down, unsure how to react. “Get rid of it,” I suddenly said. “The infertility certificate was fake. On our wedding day, you cried and told me your mother died on the operating table during childbirth. So I got a vasectomy and made up that lie. Your body isn’t suited for pregnancy. Please terminate it.” Amelia clutched her stomach, shaking her head repeatedly. I started to pull out the medical report from my pocket. But then I heard her say sadly, “Michael has kidney cancer. It is his only chance to have a child. Honey, can’t we just help him out?”

I felt pretty helpless about the whole thing. Her love for me had seemed so passionate and intense, yet she was afraid of getting pregnant with me while wanting to give Michael an heir. She claimed to be a germaphobe, wincing whenever others touched her. Yet there she was, intimately entangled with her “best friend” in our marital bed. Michael saw me covering my face and sneered, “You better not claim you have cancer, too. She checked your electronic medical records right away. They were clean.” I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. I did have a cancer report in my hand, but it wasn’t mine. Suddenly, the lights went dark, and a group of people emerged singing with a cake. Turns out this was another birthday surprise. “By the way, today is also Mr. Harris’ birthday. Perfect timing to celebrate together.” The employees thought it was quite a coincidence, but my smile became strained as my heart sank. Every year, Amelia made such a huge deal of this anniversary, even bringing Michael along. Now I could see clearly who the real celebration was for. The employees gathered around, chattering excitedly about how Amelia had made this three-tiered cake herself despite being pregnant and how she’d specifically chosen flavors she knew I liked. “Mr. Jones likes strawberries but not strawberry-flavored cake! Mrs. Jones really pays attention to every little detail about Mr. Jones.” Several younger employees squealed dramatically, “She’s so in love with Mr. Jones!” “They’re making us single people jealous again, doing this every year.” As I cut the cake surrounded by everyone, my feelings were a complicated mess. After the crowd dispersed and my emotions settled, I realized I didn’t dare to bring up our marriage issues just yet. I just wanted to give us both time to think things through. But as soon as I started to leave, Amelia came running after me in panic, hugging me so tightly that the cuts on her fingers began bleeding again. “I was too rushed making your chicken soup this morning,” she said. Her hands, once as smooth as pearl, were now covered in scars from seven years of cooking for me. My heart softened. She’d grown up pampered by her father, yet here she was, cooking meals for a poor guy like me. “I just need some time to clear my head.” I tried to reassure her. “Charlie!” she cried out, clutching my arm with tear-filled eyes. Her emotions were so intense that she doubled over, holding her belly and sobbing, “Charlie, it’s all my fault. Please don’t be angry.” Then she slowly sank to the ground and passed out. Following our family doctor’s advice, I took her home to rest. Suddenly, the nurse on the phone apologized to me. “We sent you the wrong electronic report today. I accidentally recorded the cancer diagnosis on your health check report. Please refer to the paper version instead and bring your wife in for an examination as soon as possible.” After hanging up, I received screenshots from the nurse on my phone. On the electronic report she sent today, it was written in black and white that I had terminal cancer. No wonder, no wonder they could ask so precisely whether I had cancer, too. No wonder they could produce a fake report so quickly. The cold wind from the balcony chilled me to the bone as I opened my other phone, which was connected to the listening device in the room. I heard Amelia, who was supposed to be unconscious, speaking softly to someone else. “Don’t you want to know what it feels like to be pregnant?” In the end, a bitter smile crept across my lips.

At that moment, I hated that I wasn’t a woman. I should’ve stormed in there screaming and scratching their faces like a madwoman. Instead, I had to hold back, worried about upsetting Amelia with her pregnancy and cancer diagnosis. Even as I stood there, a complete fool, my eye caught something in the trash. It was a takeout receipt. When I checked it, it was for chicken soup from this morning. Suddenly, everything clicked. With trembling hands, I searched through the delivery app, finding every single “loving lunch” I’d eaten over the years from that same restaurant. I quickly pulled up our work group photos, and in the corner of one, I spotted a cake decoration that led me straight to the bakery. So it was all fake. The cat’s pitiful yowl from atop the fridge snapped me out of my gloomy thoughts. It had gotten itself stuck up there. When I went to help it down, it thanked me with a vicious swipe, its claws raking my hand deep enough to tear the skin. I yelped in pain and chased after it, only to watch this cat. It was untameable after seven years, curling up in Michael’s arms like a pampered kitten, purring and nuzzling. Amelia’s face was flushed, her lips still glistening, her eyes darting around, but she hadn’t even noticed my injury. “I probably can’t make it to the family dinner tonight. I need to get this checked out at the hospital.” “No hospitals!” Her knee-jerk reaction stunned me. She still thought I had cancer, not knowing about the medical records mix-up. “Why waste time at the hospital? It’s bad luck. Besides, it’s just a house cat. It’s fine. Don’t you want my dad’s approval? You can’t skip the family dinner.” That knot in my chest just wouldn’t loosen. On the way to Amelia’s father, Andrew Johnson’s dinner party, I asked her if keeping the baby was necessary. “You’ve always been terrified of having kids. Now you’re willing to risk everything for his child? What does that make our marriage? The moment Michael chose to be with men, he should have given up this obsession with having children.” Amelia bit her lip, tears welling up in her eyes. I asked her one last time, “Did this baby really come from IVF?” SLAP! Her hand struck my cheek. Then she reached out with trembling fingers to touch my face, but I turned away. “Charlie, how could you doubt my love for you?” The rest of the ride was silent, and before I knew it, we arrived at her father, Andrew Johnson’s, villa. Andrew, who’d always looked down his nose at me, gave his daughter a quick hug and ushered her inside. I trailed behind them, silently carrying the gifts. Then I spotted Michael, who had already made himself entirely at home here. “Michael is my godson now. He’s living with us! Got a problem with that?” Andrew snapped when he caught me staring. What right did I have to object? Even though I’d saved the company from bankruptcy, I was still just a nobody from the wrong side of the tracks. What did it matter if I’d bought this villa? I still couldn’t set foot in it like I belonged. I’d been played like a fool by this father and daughter. My phone buzzed with another message. After the video Michael sent last time, now he’d sent me a property deed. The villa had been transferred to his name. I turned off my phone and took a deep breath. “If you love me, if you’re loyal to our marriage, then terminate this pregnancy.” The happy trio suddenly fell silent. I could see the contempt in Andrew and Michael’s eyes. My last shred of hope disappeared as she hesitated until there was nothing left. “Let’s get a divorce.” Free Point

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### In a world devastated by extreme heatwaves, my best friend, Olivia, was thrown out of her husband’s house at 12:30 in the dead of night. Dressed in nothing but her pajamas, she stood sobbing on the side of the road, begging me to take her in. I drove 120 miles to pick her up, brought her home, fed her, and bought her new clothes. I even encouraged her to leave her abusive husband. But three months later, when her life didn’t improve, she tore off my protective heat suit and left me to die under the searing 120°F sun. Her reasoning? “If you hadn’t told me to divorce him, I wouldn’t be living such a miserable life!” “Claire, can you come pick me up?” The familiar voice on the other end of the phone sent a chill down my spine, freezing me in place. It was Olivia. It felt like déjà vu. This was exactly how it happened in my previous life: Olivia’s husband, Nathan Zhang, had thrown her out of the house late at night, and she’d called me, desperate for help. Without hesitation, I had driven 120 miles to bring her to safety. I treated her like family, offering her food, shelter, and support. I had even told my parents, “Olivia is like a sister to me. She’s the family that life gave me, and I’ll always look out for her.” To me, she was more than a friend—she was my closest confidante. Her problems were my problems, and I treated her with the utmost care. From the beginning, though, I had a bad feeling about Nathan. He was controlling and manipulative, and I urged Olivia to leave him, but she wouldn’t listen. Instead, she chose to marry him and move far away. After the wedding, Olivia often called to vent about how Nathan was abusive and unfaithful. I lost count of the number of times I told her to leave him. Every time she swore she’d come to me and file for divorce, but the next day, she’d reconcile with him. In my past life, I was a fool. When Nathan threw her out, I brought her home and spent weeks convincing her to leave him. After all, who wouldn’t side with her? Being kicked out in the middle of the night, forced to wander the streets—it was unforgivable. But Olivia was nothing more than a snake in disguise. Three months later, after living comfortably in my home, she snapped. In a fit of rage, she tore off my protective heat suit and threw me outside into the blistering sun. I begged her from the other side of the door, pleading for my life, but she glared at me with resentment. “Why do you get to live happily with your perfect husband while I’m left a divorced nobody?” Under the relentless heat, I collapsed in the middle of the street. My body was found days later, scorched and unrecognizable. As for Olivia? She went after my husband. I had once told him, “Ethan, Olivia is my best friend. Treat her as well as you treat me.” And he did. He trusted her when she told him there were roses growing outside that he should pick to honor my memory. Wearing a compromised heat suit she had prepared, Ethan ventured out into the deadly heat. He suffocated in the sweltering air, his body baking under the sun until he was nothing but dried remains. But now, somehow, I had been given a second chance. I found myself standing in the same moment as before, Olivia’s voice trembling on the other end of the line.

“Claire? Did you hear me?” she asked again, her tone pitiful. I smirked coldly. Oh, I heard her just fine. This was my chance to rewrite my fate. “Olivia,” I said, my voice calm but distant, “Nathan probably didn’t mean it. He loves you too much to actually kick you out. You should go back and talk to him.” There was silence on the line. Then, Olivia stammered, “W-what? Claire, are you mad at me? Is this because I didn’t listen to you before? Please, you’re the only person I can turn to. You’ve always been there for me. You’re my best friend!” She began showering me with compliments, recounting all the ways I had helped her in the past. But with every word she spoke, my heart only grew colder. If she truly knew how much I had cared for her, why had she betrayed me so cruelly in my last life? Why had she called me a “fake friend” and destroyed my family out of jealousy? I remembered telling Ethan, “Honey, Olivia is like a sister to me. Treat her the same way you treat me.” How naive I had been. She was no sister—she was a monster. And because of my blind trust, Ethan had died a horrific death, suffocating in the heat while searching for roses she had lied about. This time, I wouldn’t make the same mistake.

The moment I hung up the call with Olivia, regret surged through me, sharp and bitter. “Claire?” Ethan, my husband, stirred awake and walked out of the bedroom, his voice groggy with sleep. He glanced at the phone in my hand, and when he saw Olivia’s name on the screen, his brow furrowed. “Another fight with her husband?” he asked softly. I nodded, then turned my attention back to the phone. “Olivia,” I said calmly, “go back home. Nathan won’t leave you out there. Trust me.” Before she could respond, I ended the call. But I wasn’t done. I immediately dialed Nathan. In my past life, Olivia had blamed me for convincing her to leave him. This time, I’d make sure they stayed together. “Nathan,” I started when he answered, “Olivia’s at the grocery store on the corner. She says you don’t love her, but I know that’s not true. You two have been through so much together—she’s lucky to have someone like you.” “Claire?” Nathan asked, his voice dripping with suspicion. “It’s me,” I confirmed. He scoffed, his tone turning cold. “If it weren’t for you meddling last time, Olivia wouldn’t have left in the first place. And now you’re trying to play the hero?” Meddling? Oh, Olivia. How much had you lied to me in our past life? She’d claimed I encouraged her to leave him, but it was clear now that she had twisted the narrative to suit her self-pity. “Nathan,” I said, my voice firm, “you can’t just throw accusations like that. I’ve always told Olivia to work things out with you. Marriage isn’t something you give up on lightly. You two belong together.” There was silence, then a begrudging, “Fine. I’ll go get her.” As I hung up, I smirked. Olivia, I hope you’re ready to explain yourself when Nathan shows up. Don’t forget to throw your so-called ‘best friend’ under the bus to save your own skin. With those two out of the way, I still couldn’t relax. In three days, global temperatures were predicted to rise above 120°F, and chaos would soon follow. Even though utilities like water and electricity would still function, the unbearable heat would make it nearly impossible to go outside. Protective suits could help for short trips, but even a small tear could lead to burns, dehydration, or worse. Fear and despair would take over. Supplies would dwindle. And then the true horror would begin—crime would skyrocket. I’d seen it all in my past life. The memory of those days haunted me, pushing me to act immediately. I called my boss and requested a leave of absence. Then I did the same for Ethan. Next, I called my parents. “Mom, Dad,” I said urgently, “the heatwave is coming. You need to tell everyone in the village to start preparing the fallout shelter in the back hills.” My parents lived in a small village founded by my family generations ago. Fewer than ten households remained, all of them relatives. The fallout shelter, built into the hillside behind our orchards, had been abandoned for years. But I remembered stumbling across it as a child during one blazing summer. The outside temperature had been in the high 90s, but inside the shelter, it was a cool, comfortable 68°F. I’d even fallen asleep there, only to be scolded by my parents when they found me hours later. After that, my dad started using the shelter to cool off while working in the orchard. He even set up a small space for me to rest whenever I tagged along. In this life, the memory of that cool, safe haven was all I could think about. In my previous life, when the heatwave hit, my parents had rushed to the shelter and confirmed that it still maintained a livable temperature. Ethan and I had planned to join them, but Olivia refused to leave the city. “It’s so inconvenient to pack up and move,” she complained. “Besides, the government will take care of us. Things will settle down soon enough.” When I insisted on leaving, she burst into tears. “You’re abandoning me, aren’t you? I thought I was your best friend!” Her sobs wore me down, and I foolishly stayed. But staying was a death sentence. Ethan and I both perished—him from dehydration when Olivia sabotaged his protective suit, and me from heat exposure after she locked me outside. And Olivia? She and Nathan took over the shelter, leaving my parents and the villagers to die under the scorching sun. The thought of it still made my blood boil.

“Mom, Dad, listen carefully. Tell everyone in the village—those who can return home should do so immediately, and those who can’t must stock up on essential supplies and stay put. And one more thing: don’t tell anyone outside the village about our location or that we’re preparing. Not a word about the supplies, either.” “This is about survival.” “Claire, what’s going on?” My mom’s voice was filled with alarm, her nervousness radiating through the phone. “Mom, a scientist I know says the temperature will hit 120°F in three days.” “120°F?” My mom gasped, nearly dropping the phone in shock. Time was running out, so I quickly emphasized the gravity of the situation. Hearing the urgency in my voice, my parents finally began to understand the seriousness. They swore they would follow my instructions to the letter. “Mom, there’s no time to waste. You and Dad need to start preparing immediately. The fallout shelter hasn’t been used in years—it’ll need a lot of repairs. Get to work, fast.” “Got it.” I reminded them to send me daily progress updates and to assign tasks to the other villagers. Only by working together could they speed up the preparations. Once I was certain my parents would take action, I heaved a long sigh of relief and finally allowed myself to drift into a deep sleep. The next morning, I had Ethan take his parents to my parents’ village. “Claire, are you okay?” Ethan asked, concern etched into his face. His worry made my chest tighten. Memories of his death in my past life flashed through my mind, and I couldn’t stop myself from wrapping my arms around him. “I’m fine,” I said softly. “But according to the expert, the heatwave will hit in a few days. We need to prepare now. Take your parents to my mom and dad’s place, and help them get the fallout shelter fixed. Most importantly, make sure they have enough supplies.” “What about you?” Ethan frowned. “You’re staying behind?” I shook my head. “There are some supplies the village can’t get. I’ll handle them here. Once you get there, ask my parents to gather a few trucks and have them wait for me at the cemetery on the edge of the village.” “Alright.” I shared the rest of my plan with him. Although he looked a little confused, he didn’t question me. Ethan could sense how serious this was, and though he didn’t fully understand, he trusted me. “Ethan,” I said firmly, “don’t tell anyone about the fallout shelter or why we’re stocking up. If anyone asks, say it’s for renovating the family shrine and preparing for a memorial gathering.” Ethan, quick on the uptake, nodded without hesitation. He left right away, driving our SUV, stopping along the way to pick up tools for electricity and water systems. Meanwhile, I headed straight to the farmers’ markets, buying supplies in bulk. I divided everything into categories—meat, rice, vegetables—all meticulously planned. At the same time, I instructed my parents to buy large freezers, but to do so discreetly. “Don’t buy them all from one place,” I told them. “Spread it out so it doesn’t attract attention.” Once the freezers arrived at the house, they moved them to the fallout shelter. From the videos my mom sent me, the shelter was shaping up beautifully. With the help of the aunts in the village, the once-abandoned space was now almost unrecognizable. I remembered the shelter being large, but I hadn’t realized just how massive it was. After cleaning and organizing, they’d even divided it into sections: living quarters, a recreation area, a kitchen, and, surprisingly, an open-air section where sunlight streamed in. The deeper they went into the shelter, the more impressive it became. At the very back, the shelter connected to a cliffside with a natural ventilation system. The breeze made it perfect for planting crops. “Claire,” my mom said in one of her updates, “we’ve cleaned out all the rooms and installed water and electricity. We even left space for the freezers.” With the shelter coming together so well, I felt a huge weight lift off my shoulders. Now, I could focus on the rest of the supplies without distraction.

Three full trucks packed with supplies. The truck driver chuckled as he glanced at me. “Miss, are you opening a grocery store or something?” I smiled back, playing along. “Big celebration in the village—lots of guests and a banquet to prepare. You’d be surprised how fast all this will disappear.” “Ah, that makes sense. For a second, I thought you were stocking up for the apocalypse!” I didn’t bother explaining further; sometimes, less was more. I sent the three trucks to three separate drop-off points near different cemeteries, where Ethan and some of the guys from the village were waiting. Once the supplies were unloaded, we carefully transferred them to the trucks my family had brought. I’d reminded everyone repeatedly to avoid being seen. The supplies were discreetly delivered to the fallout shelter in ten separate trips. By the time we finished, the shelter was packed wall-to-wall with food, water, and essentials. The sight of it all made me feel like a deflated balloon, and I collapsed onto the sofa with a long sigh. For the first time since my rebirth, I felt safe. This time, the heat wouldn’t kill me. It had been so long since I’d seen my parents. When I finally did, I couldn’t hold back my emotions. I threw myself into their arms and cried like a child. Startled by my outburst, they tried to comfort me, their voices full of worry. “What’s wrong, Claire? Why are you crying so much?” I shook my head, brushing it off with a weak excuse. “It’s just… the heat. It’s overwhelming, and I couldn’t hold it in.” My mom chuckled and teased, “You’re acting like a little kid again.” I smiled through my tears and leaned into their warmth, letting myself be a daughter for just a moment longer. Once I’d calmed down, I started asking detailed questions about the shelter. When I arrived earlier, my uncle had been overseeing the installation of reinforced fencing around the perimeter. Honestly, if my mom hadn’t guided me inside, I never would’ve found the entrance. They’d done an incredible job hiding it. Forget Olivia—no one, not even the locals, would be able to locate this place. That night, my mom and a few of the aunts prepared a feast to welcome us. After dinner, Ethan took me on a little tour of the shelter. Holding hands, we explored every nook and cranny. “I didn’t have time to fix everything,” Ethan said, gesturing toward some unfinished sections. “We don’t know how long this heatwave will last, but your dad and I figured we could improve things bit by bit as we go.” “There’s plenty of time,” I reassured him, squeezing his hand. Knowing how much I loved watching movies, Ethan had even set up a small room with a projector. Seeing his thoughtfulness made me smile. The next day, the heatwave hit. The temperature soared to 122°F, and the world outside descended into chaos. People who dared step outdoors without proper protection were immediately burned. And unlike regular burns, these heat injuries were slow to heal. Experts and government officials issued warnings, urging citizens to stay indoors and avoid unnecessary travel. Community workers began distributing protective suits, based on the number of residents in each neighborhood. When our building’s property manager called to check on us, I told them, “Oh, my family’s traveling out of town, so you don’t need to include us in the headcount.” Meanwhile, Olivia sent me a picture of my house.

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