Category: English

At my baby’s one-month celebration, my husband—my partner of three years—did something I never imagined he was capable of. Right in front of me, he handed our baby to his ex. His first love. And then, as if that wasn’t enough, he encouraged the baby to call her “Mom.” I froze, my mind reeling from the shock. But when the realization hit me, I rushed forward to stop him, only to be shoved aside like I was nothing. “Why are you being so selfish?” he snapped, glaring at me like I was the one in the wrong. “Sarah can’t have children. She just wants to know what it’s like to be a mom for once. What’s the big deal? The baby’s too young to even understand—it’s just a couple of words!” I stared at him, speechless, as Sarah—Sarah—looked down at me, holding my baby like she had every right to. Her expression was soft, almost pitying, but her words cut deeper than any knife. “I’m so sorry, Amanda,” she said, her voice dripping with practiced regret. “Not being able to have children is the one thing I’ve always wanted to experience. It’s my only regret in life.” She smiled faintly, stroking my baby’s tiny cheek as if she belonged to her. “Joshua went through so much to make this happen for me,” she added, her eyes glancing at my husband—her Joshua, I realized bitterly. “I couldn’t bear to refuse him after everything he’s done.” She paused, letting out a theatrical sigh as if she were the victim. “Don’t worry, though,” she continued, her tone so sweet it made me sick. “When the baby’s older, I’ll give him back to you. And then I’ll leave. I promise.” Her words echoed in my ears, but instead of anger, something else took over. A strange, calm clarity. I got to my feet, brushed myself off, and looked at both of them with a steady gaze. My voice was calm—too calm—but firm. “Alright,” I said. “I’ll grant both of your wishes.” Three years of marriage. Three years of lies. It was time to walk away. …

The moment I said those words, the room went silent. At first, the people around me looked shocked. But then their expressions shifted—disdain replaced surprise. To them, I was just the pathetic woman hopelessly in love with Joshua. From high school to college, from graduation to marriage, I had chased him for years—years where I lost every ounce of self-respect. Everyone knew it. They called me desperate behind my back, a woman who had long since thrown away her dignity for a man who never cared. Even Joshua was stunned. He stared at me, clearly not expecting what I’d just said. The words of blame he had been about to hurl at me froze on his tongue. “What?” He blinked as if he hadn’t heard me correctly. He never thought I’d agree so easily. No, not me—the woman who always fought him tooth and nail every time Sarah’s name came up. We had argued countless times before, like when he abandoned me in the pouring rain to rush off and comfort Sarah. Or when I was pregnant, and he barely came home, while Sarah’s social media was filled with pictures of the two of them together—day after day. But now? I didn’t have the strength to argue anymore. When he handed Coco to Sarah. When he encouraged Coco to call her “Mom.” That was the moment I finally woke up. The marriage I had fought so hard for—the marriage I thought I wanted so desperately—was over. I looked at Joshua, my voice calm and steady, with none of the tears or pleading he must have expected. “Well, Joshua,” I said. “I wish you and your perfect little family all the happiness in the world.” “But Coco? I’m taking her with me.” Coco, sensing the tension in the air, waved her tiny hands and whimpered. But when she couldn’t find my familiar scent, her cries grew louder and more desperate. Her cries tore through me, sharp and painful. She had been the sweetest baby in the world since the day she was born—rarely crying, always calm, never making a fuss. Even during late-night feedings, she wasn’t difficult. I had always thought she was a gift from above. But now, I realized that from the moment she was conceived, Coco had been nothing more than a piece in Joshua’s game. He never cared about her. Not really. To him, Coco wasn’t his daughter—she was just a tool. A pawn to make Sarah happy. I clenched my fists, swallowing the lump in my throat as I stared at him. “Coco’s hungry,” I said, my voice trembling with barely restrained anger. “She’s coming with me.” Coco squirmed in Sarah’s arms, her tiny body wriggling and pushing away from the unfamiliar woman holding her. It was obvious she wanted nothing to do with Sarah. Sarah’s face twisted with irritation as she tried to comfort her, but Coco only cried harder. After a few failed attempts, Sarah’s eyes began to water in frustration. “Well,” she said with a bitter laugh, “it looks like Coco doesn’t like me very much.” Then, as if she were discarding a broken toy, she handed Coco to one of the bodyguards standing nearby. The sight of it made my blood boil, and I rushed forward, pulling Coco into my arms. Her cries softened instantly, her tiny fingers clutching my shirt as I whispered to her, gently soothing her sobs. Behind me, Joshua reached out to pat Sarah’s hand, his voice soft and comforting. “It’s okay,” he said. “She’s still young. She doesn’t recognize people yet.” And then, with a smile that made my stomach turn, he added, “Give it some time. I’ll make sure she spends more time with you. She’ll learn to listen to you.” His voice dropped into something almost tender. “Soon enough, she’ll be your daughter too.” The words hit me like a slap to the face. I held Coco tighter, ignoring Sarah’s smug expression as I turned to face Joshua. “Joshua,” I said coldly, every word precise and deliberate. “We’re getting a divorce.” “And Coco? She’s coming with me.” For a moment, Sarah’s expression faltered, her smug smile replaced by genuine surprise. Joshua looked at me like I had just spoken in a language he didn’t understand. Then his face darkened, his brows furrowing as he spoke, his voice laced with irritation. “Amanda,” he snapped, “don’t use divorce as some childish tantrum. Grow up.” I didn’t respond. I didn’t argue. I simply turned on my heel, holding Coco close as I walked toward the door. Behind me, Joshua’s voice rang out, sharp and angry. “Amanda! Don’t take this too far!” And then Sarah’s sickly sweet voice chimed in, trying to calm him down. “It’s okay, Joshua. Coco’s probably just hungry, and Amanda’s upset. She didn’t mean those things—she’s just stressed.” I didn’t look back. The moment I stepped outside the hotel, the tears I had been holding back finally spilled over. Guilt clawed at my chest, nearly overwhelming me. I had failed Coco. My blind, pathetic devotion to Joshua had allowed him to hurt me again and again without consequence. He was so certain I’d never leave him, so confident I’d always stay, that he didn’t even try to hide his betrayal anymore. And now, because of me, my daughter had almost been taken from me. Coco’s tiny face was bright red from crying, her sobs shaking her little body. My tears fell harder as I gently squeezed her hand, trying to calm her. “It’s okay, Coco,” I whispered. My voice shook, but I forced myself to sound steady. “Mommy’s here. Mommy won’t let anything happen to you.” As long as I’m here, you’ll be safe. You don’t need a father like Joshua. Not anymore.

It was nearly dawn when Joshua finally came home. The bedroom door creaked open, and the sharp scent of alcohol hit me like a punch in the face. I turned my head instinctively, a wave of nausea rising in my stomach. Joshua’s cheeks were flushed the telltale red of someone who’d had too much to drink. He saw me sitting on the edge of the bed, tossed his jacket carelessly onto the chair, and collapsed next to me without a word. I stood, ready to leave, but before I could take a step, his hand grabbed my wrist. He looked up at me, his eyes hazy and unfocused, but there was something in his gaze—an attempt at charm, maybe even guilt. “Are you mad?” he slurred, the words slow and deliberate like a child trying to soothe a parent. “Come on, it’s not what you think. There’s nothing going on between me and Sarah. You know about her accident—she can’t have kids. Coco’s just… the one thing she’ll never have.” His tone softened like he truly believed he was being reasonable. “I was just trying to make her happy. That’s all. Besides, wouldn’t it be nice to have someone else around to help with Coco?” As he spoke, he leaned closer, his breath warm and reeking of alcohol. “I know what I said earlier was harsh, but you’re overreacting. I’m just helping her. You’re making this into a bigger deal than it is.” His grip tightened slightly, and his voice hardened. “And Amanda, stop throwing around the word ‘divorce’ every time you’re upset. What would people think if they heard about this? You’re embarrassing yourself.” I stared at him, his words dripping with condescension, and something inside me snapped. How dare he blame me? How dare he talk about embarrassment when he let Coco call another woman “Mom”? When he publicly said that Coco would be Sarah’s child, did he think of me then? Did he care how humiliated I felt? I yanked my wrist free from his grasp, the disgust on my face unmistakable. “I’ll be sleeping in the guest room tonight,” I said coldly. I headed for the door, but before I could open it, his hand shot out again, gripping my arm even harder this time. His tone shifted, sharp and impatient now. “I’ve already explained everything to you. What more do you want?” “Amanda, don’t be so selfish,” he said, his voice rising with frustration. “Sarah can’t have kids! All I asked was for Coco to call her ‘Mom.’ What’s the big deal?” I turned to face him, finally meeting his gaze. This was the man I had spent years loving, the man I thought I’d spend my life with. But now, as I looked at him, all I could feel was disgust. “You know exactly how you feel about Sarah,” I said, my voice cold and steady. “I’m not stupid, Joshua.” “But let me make one thing clear: I will never let you drag Coco into this.” “And as I’ve already said, we’re done. I want a divorce.” I didn’t wait for his response. I opened the door and walked out, ignoring the sound of something crashing behind me as his anger boiled over. The guest room was next to Coco’s nursery. Before going to bed, I quietly pushed open her door. She was fast asleep, her tiny chest rising and falling with every breath. The sight of her calmed me, if only for a moment. I leaned down and kissed her forehead gently. “Goodnight, my love,” I whispered. Then I closed the door and went to the guest room. The next morning, Joshua was gone. I didn’t need to ask where he was. Since I’d gotten pregnant, he’d been homeless and less. And where did he spend his time? I already knew. I got up and went straight to Coco’s nursery. But when I opened the door, the crib was empty. My heart stopped. Panic surged through me as I searched the room, checking every corner, every inch of the space, as if she could somehow be hiding. But she was gone. The fear was suffocating, my hands trembling as I reached for my phone. I was ready to call the police when a notification popped up on the screen. #J Group CEO Attends Charity Gala with Wife and Daughter!# My stomach twisted as I opened the link. The video began to play, and there they were—Joshua and Sarah, standing arm in arm, smiling for the cameras. And in Sarah’s arms… Coco. My Coco. Her little nose was red, her eyes puffy, as if she’d been crying. The sight of her like that shattered something inside me. I knew Joshua wouldn’t answer my calls. He never did when it mattered. So I didn’t bother trying. Instead, I grabbed my coat and my car keys. I didn’t care about the speed limit. I didn’t care about anything except getting to that gala. Coco was mine. And no one—not Joshua, not Sarah—was going to take her away from me. … The ceremony had just ended. Sarah clung to Joshua’s arm, walking gracefully toward the sleek black luxury car parked outside. Coco was cradled in her arms, fast asleep, oblivious to the world around her. I pulled up, stepped out of my car, and stormed toward them without hesitation. Sarah noticed me first. Her expression flickered for just a moment before she plastered on a look of wide-eyed innocence. “Amanda! What a surprise,” she said, her voice syrupy sweet. “What brings you here?” I ignored her completely and turned to Joshua instead. “She’s barely a year old, Joshua!” I snapped, my voice sharp and cutting. “How could you bring her to a place like this? What if something happened to her?” Joshua shrugged, unfazed by my anger. “Don’t be so dramatic,” he said dismissively. “Sarah wanted to see Coco, and we had the ceremony to attend. It made sense to bring her along.” He gestured toward the baby in Sarah’s arms as if to prove a point. “Look—she’s fine, isn’t she?” Sarah chimed in with a soft laugh. “Exactly, Amanda. You’re overthinking this. She’s perfectly okay. You really need to stop worrying so much.” I didn’t bother responding to her. My focus was on Coco. I stepped forward and took her from Sarah’s arms. My movements were abrupt, almost frantic, but even then, Coco didn’t stir. That was when the first wave of panic hit me. I touched her face, and my heart sank. Her skin was burning hot to the touch. “Coco?” I whispered, shaking her gently. “Coco, wake up!” She didn’t move. My legs felt like they were about to give out as I turned to Joshua, my voice trembling with anger and fear. “Joshua!” I shouted, my voice echoing louder than I intended. “She’s your daughter! How could you not notice she has a fever? She’s burning up!” Joshua blinked at me, clearly caught off guard. For a moment, he just stood there, his expression blank. “I—I didn’t realize…” he stammered. “She seemed fine earlier…” I couldn’t take it anymore. Hugging Coco tightly to my chest, I turned and ran back to my car. There was no time to argue, no time to waste. I needed to get her to the hospital. I drove as fast as I dared, my hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles turned white. I kept glancing at Coco in the rearview mirror, her tiny body still and lifeless. When we arrived, the doctors rushed her in immediately. I could barely breathe as I waited outside, pacing back and forth, my heart pounding in my chest. Finally, a doctor came out to speak with me. “You brought her in just in time,” he said, his tone serious but calm. “If you’d waited any longer, it could have been much worse.” The relief was overwhelming, but it was quickly swallowed by guilt. I stepped into the room where Coco was now resting. She looked so small, hooked up to the IV. Her fever had started to go down, and her breathing was steady again, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had failed her. Tears blurred my vision as I sat by her bedside. I wiped them away quickly, pulling out my phone and dialing my parents. The call connected almost immediately. “Mom,” I said, my voice cracking. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing Joshua.” There was a pause on the other end, and then my mother’s voice came through, filled with concern. “What happened? Is Coco okay?” I took a deep breath, trying to steady my voice as I explained everything—how Joshua had taken Coco to the ceremony, how he hadn’t even noticed she was sick, how close we had come to losing her. In the background, I could hear my father’s angry voice. “That man has no heart!” he fumed. “Coco is his own daughter! How could he be so careless?” My mother’s voice was calmer but no less determined. “Amanda, listen to me,” she said firmly. “Just come home. Bring Coco with you. We’ll handle the rest.” My mom wasn’t just offering comfort—she was a force to be reckoned with. Her connections in the business world ran deep, and she knew some of the best lawyers in the city. I knew she would make sure I had everything I needed to end this marriage. “Okay,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. After hanging up, I reached out and gently touched Coco’s forehead. Her fever had finally broken. I let out a long breath, the tension in my chest easing just a little. I stayed by her side the entire night, refusing to leave her for even a moment.

After a full day and night on an IV drip, Coco finally woke up. My mom came to the hospital to help me take care of her, giving me a chance to go home and pack. I didn’t take much—just the necessities. I didn’t need anything else from that house. But as I stepped out the door with my suitcase in hand, a car pulled up, screeching to a stop in front of me. Joshua. He got out quickly, and of course, Sarah was right behind him. Her eyes immediately landed on the suitcase I was holding. She blinked in surprise, and then tilted her head with a smile that was anything but innocent. “Amanda,” she said, her tone light and curious, “are you going somewhere?” Joshua’s gaze followed hers, and the moment he saw the suitcase, his face darkened. His jaw tightened, and his eyes narrowed dangerously. “Amanda,” he said sharply, “what’s the meaning of this?” I looked at him, calm but cold. “What do you think it means?” I said evenly. “We’re getting divorced. There’s no reason for me to stay here anymore.” Joshua’s expression shifted, his anger visibly rising. He stepped forward and grabbed my arm, his grip hard enough to make me stop in my tracks. “Who said you could leave?” he growled. Before I could respond, Sarah stepped in, her voice soft and sweet, playing her part perfectly. “Joshua, don’t be so harsh,” she said, placing a hand on his arm. “Amanda’s just upset. If you talk to her calmly, I’m sure she’ll come around. She’s probably just overreacting because of what happened with Coco…” She paused, casting me a quick, apologetic glance. “I mean, yesterday was partly my fault, after all…” Her words hit me like gasoline on a fire. Joshua’s grip loosened as he turned to her, clearly annoyed. But then he turned back to me, his voice dripping with frustration. “Overreacting,” he repeated, almost scoffing. “It was just a fever, Amanda. Kids get sick all the time. Why do you have to blow everything out of proportion?” He crossed his arms, his tone sharper now. “Do you even hear yourself? You’re always so tense, always making everything into a crisis. What’s the point? Do you even realize how exhausting you’ve become?” His words cut deep, but this time, I didn’t hold back. I raised my hand and slapped him across the face. The sound echoed in the driveway, sharp and unforgiving. Joshua froze, his eyes wide with disbelief, one hand slowly reaching up to touch his cheek. Sarah gasped and rushed to his side. “Joshua! Are you okay?” she cried, her voice filled with concern as she leaned in to inspect him. I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. “Do you think I’m the problem here?” I said, my voice trembling with anger. I pulled out my phone, opened Sarah’s social media, and shoved it in Joshua’s face. “Look at this,” I said, my tone icy. “Do you even remember what you’ve done?” “Were you there for Coco when she was born?” “When she was sick, where were you? Who were you with?” I took a step closer, my voice growing louder with each question. “Do I need to remind you of every single time you failed her? Failed us?” Joshua didn’t say a word, but Sarah’s eyes welled up with tears. She sniffled, looking at me like she was the victim. “Amanda,” she said softly, her voice trembling. “I know you’re upset… I—I’m leaving for the U.S. soon. I won’t bother you anymore, I swear. Please, just… don’t take this out on Joshua. He really cares about you.” Her performance was flawless, but it only made me feel sick. I smiled coldly, not bothering to hide my disgust. Then, without hesitation, I slapped her, too. This time, the sound was even louder. Sarah stumbled back, clutching her cheek in shock as tears spilled down her face. Joshua immediately snapped out of his daze and rushed to her, shielding her like she was some fragile treasure. “What the hell is wrong with you, Amanda?” he shouted, his voice filled with anger. I smirked, unfazed by his reaction. “Get out of my sight,” I said coldly, my tone laced with disdain. “Both of you. You’re disgusting.” I turned on my heel, dragging my suitcase toward my car. Just before getting in, I looked over my shoulder one last time. “The divorce papers will be sent to you tomorrow,” I said. “Make sure you sign them.” Joshua’s voice roared behind me as I started the engine. “Amanda! Don’t you dare walk away from me! You’ll regret this!” But I didn’t bother looking back. Later that night, I arrived at my parents’ house. My mom had already brought Coco home from the hospital. She was asleep in the guest room, her tiny face peaceful and calm. For the first time in days, I felt like I could finally breathe. My mom came over and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry,” she said firmly. “The lawyer I hired is one of the best. We’ll make sure you get full custody of Coco. No one is taking her away from you.” Her words were like a lifeline, grounding me in the middle of the chaos. “It hasn’t been easy for you,” she added softly. “But you’ve done everything you could. You’ve been so strong, Amanda.” I nodded, but the weight of everything finally broke me. For the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself cry. I buried my face in my mom’s shoulder, and all the anger, pain, and exhaustion poured out of me in waves. … Three days had passed since I sent the divorce papers to Joshua. He still hadn’t signed them. When it became clear he was just stalling, I told my lawyer to proceed with filing for divorce in court. That finally got a reaction. Joshua called me later that day, his voice dripping with irritation. “Amanda, what are you trying to do?” he snapped. “First the divorce papers, now you’re dragging a lawyer into this? You really want to take this to court?” He paused, and then softened his tone slightly, though it was more condescending than apologetic. “Look, I know… last time was my fault. I should’ve noticed something was wrong with Coco. I admit that. Okay? But do we really have to keep dragging this out? I’m apologizing here. Can’t you just… let it go?” I didn’t say anything, so he kept going. “And Sarah… she’s been a close friend of mine for years. She just got back to the country, and then—” he hesitated for a moment, and then sighed heavily. “And then she found out she can’t have kids. Do you know how hard that is for her? She’s going through a lot right now. She doesn’t deserve this from you.” His tone shifted again, more impatient now. “Look, there’s an event tomorrow night. Come with me.” It wasn’t a request. It sounded more like a reluctant compromise as if he were doing me a favor. In the past, I might’ve been eager for an invitation like this. Joshua rarely took me to events like these. He always said I “wasn’t cut out for that kind of thing,” that my place was at home, managing the household. But now? I couldn’t care less. I kept my voice calm, almost disinterested. “Will Sarah be there?” “Her studio is hosting the event,” he replied as if that explained everything. “Fine,” I said. “I’ll go.” The next evening, I drove myself to the venue. When I arrived, Joshua was waiting for me outside. Without a word, he led me into the banquet hall, where the crowd immediately began to take notice of us. Joshua was quickly drawn into conversations about business, but I could feel the curious stares following me everywhere. The whispers were impossible to ignore. It wasn’t hard to understand why. To them, Sarah was the woman who belonged at Joshua’s side. She was the one splashed all over the tabloids, the one everyone assumed was the woman in his life. And me? I was a stranger in their world, someone they’d never seen before. Joshua had never brought me to events like this. In fact, most people in his circle didn’t even know he was married. Even Coco’s full-month celebration had been a small, private affair with just close family and friends. So tonight, standing beside him, I was a shock to everyone in the room. Finally, someone couldn’t resist asking. One of the guests turned to Joshua, offering a polite smile. “And this lovely lady is…?” Joshua started to respond, but I cut him off before he could say a word. “His wife,” I said with a calm, confident smile. The man’s expression froze for a moment, and then shifted as he glanced at Joshua with a mixture of surprise and something else—disgust, maybe, or pity. Joshua’s face tightened, his jaw clenching as he leaned closer to me. “What the hell are you doing?” he hissed under his breath. I smiled at him, unfazed. “What’s wrong?” I said lightly. “I’m just telling the truth.” Soon, the event officially began. The lights dimmed, and all eyes turned to the stage as Sarah stepped out. She was dressed in a stunning custom gown, the kind that screamed exclusivity and wealth. Under the spotlight, she looked poised, elegant, and completely in control. She was the picture of grace as she walked to the center of the stage, ready to deliver her speech. But before she could say a word, I raised my voice, cutting through the silence like a knife. “Sarah,” I called out loud enough for everyone to hear. The room went still, all eyes turning toward me. “Before you start,” I said, my voice steady and clear, “don’t you think there’s something you need to explain to me first?”

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At an auction I hosted, my wife won a limited-edition luxury car for fifty million dollars. She handed over the car keys to her male partner on the spot, drawing cheers from the crowd. Everyone exclaimed that love was blatant favoritism. Everyone’s attention was focused on the well-matched “couple”. No one noticed the real husband of the heroine gritting his teeth and swallowing all his emotions on the auction block. I thought this marriage had come to an end. The moment the hammer dropped, my wife, Rachel Johnson, walked up to me and took the keys, giving me a scornful look before turning toward Oliver Kensington. To the amazement of the crowd, she handed Oliver the keys to her fifty-million-dollar limousine. At that instant, cheers and applause resounded throughout the hall. The flash focused on the two while my stomach suddenly twisted, and I almost vomited blood. I clenched my teeth and tried desperately to swallow all my emotions. My coworker, who was beside me, was the first to notice and took me to the hospital. I had a stomach relapse because I was so emotional. But my wife, Rachel, never showed up. She was embracing Oliver for an interview with a reporter. That reporter asked, “Ms. Johnson, may I ask if this man is your husband?” The business world knew that Rachel had a husband she had been married to for five years but never showed and that she had a beloved childhood friend. So the reporter was eager to confirm the identity of the man next to Rachel. “He’s the love of my life,” smiled Rachel softly while Oliver, at her side, puffed out his chest. Her vague answer made the reporter keenly aware of something, so that reporter just nodded. I watched the video as I lay in the hospital bed, a sharp pain in my heart. I had been married to Rachel for five years, and our marriage was a casualty of two large business families. But I was in love with Rachel. However, Rachel had never acknowledged me in public. She said, “I don’t want to upset Oliver, and I hope you understand.” So, all this time, I had been performing the role of a reasonable husband, quietly doing the job I loved. The young nurse came in muttering, her tone disgruntled, “Where’s your wife? Why hasn’t she shown up by now? If she doesn’t show up later, this checklist…” “I’ll just sign it myself,” I interrupted the young nurse. She choked on her words and looked a little distressed for me. She wanted to say something else but eventually just sighed. I walked out of the hospital alone after signing and paying the bill. The blinding sunlight made me squint. In a blur, I saw Rachel. She was holding Oliver on her arm as she got into the limousine she had just won. Oliver’s car shone even brighter in the sunlight. Inside the large villa, I was the only one most of the time. But Rachel was surprisingly back today, carefully holding Oliver up. “Benjamin, sorry to bother you. I broke my foot. Rachel said she didn’t feel comfortable leaving me alone,” said Oliver, holding his ankle out. There was a faint redness on it that I couldn’t even tell if I didn’t look at it deliberately. “Okay.” I nodded and got up, ready to go upstairs, only to be stopped by Rachel. She said, “You’re sleeping in the guest bedroom today. Oliver has a broken foot, and the bed in the main bedroom is better for him.” I was stunned. The bed in the main bedroom had been given to me by my mother, Aurora Wellington. Back then, Rachel had offended the gangsters for Oliver. A car with no license plate sped toward her. I subconsciously rushed forward to push her out of the way. Pain spread throughout my body. But I saw her get up in a hurry and ask Oliver, who was standing by, if he was hurt, without noticing me, who had already been covered in bruises. When I woke up again, I learned that I had a shattered calf. After that, the only way I wouldn’t feel pain was to sleep in a customized bed. I said, “But I…” “Will you stop fighting with the patient?” Rachel interrupted me impatiently. She helped Oliver into the elevator, leaving me standing alone in the living room. I had no choice but to sleep in the guest bedroom. The bed in the guest bedroom was uncomfortable. The discomfort in my calf, combined with the fact that I’d only just had stomach surgery, kept me in tears all night. I thought it was time for me to give up on Rachel.

Early in the morning, I could hear cheerful laughter downstairs. Oliver was playing with Rachel with a cookie. He held the cookie close to Rachel’s mouth and took it away before Rachel could open her mouth. The two finally notice me behind them as they play and laugh. Rachel cleared her throat and said, “You’re awake. Let’s have breakfast.” I sat across from them in silence. Oliver pouted, seemingly annoyed that I had disturbed them. “Stop by from work tonight and bring Oliver back a cake,” said Rachel to me as if giving an order. My hand paused, and I said, “I’m not available.” The crisp sound of clinking cutlery echoed through the dining room. I didn’t look at Rachel’s face as I hurriedly finished my glass of milk and carried my bag out the door. There were a lot of collections up for auction today. I was sitting backstage, memorizing, when I heard a commotion outside. A man said, “Ms. Johnson really loves her childhood friend.” Another man said, “Isn’t she married? She’s cheating like that, isn’t she?” A woman said, “She and her husband are in a business union, not in a relationship. She’s in true love with her childhood friend. If it wasn’t for the fact that her childhood friend is not as well off as that man…” The other woman said, “Yes. That man broke them up, so he must be afraid to come out and say anything.” Listening to the discussion outside, I lowered my head. I was the man who broke up Rachel and Oliver’s love. I couldn’t help but laugh to myself at the thought before dialing my home number. “Dad, Mom…” For some reason, my voice choked the moment I opened my mouth. There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment. “Come back.” “Okay.” Hanging up the phone, I gathered myself together and stepped up to the auction block, seeing Rachel sitting in the audience. She was sitting with Oliver. Oliver had his arm around her, and the two looked very affectionate. People at Rachel’s level basically consigned auctions by phone. Just because Oliver liked to make a splash, she accompanied him in and out of the major auction venues to buy things for him. “It’s ready to go,” my coworker whispered to remind me. I took a deep breath, put on a professional smile, and began to introduce the first collection of the day. It was an exquisite handmade mechanical wristwatch with a starting bid of one and a half million dollars. I faintly heard Oliver’s voice. “Rachel, I like it.” The next second, Rachel raised her hand. “Five million dollars.” The audience erupted in shock. I was stunned and then started counting down. There were no more bids, so the watch was auctioned off to Rachel. She wore the watch on Oliver’s hand as she had done the last time and held his hand up high like a general who had won a battle. Watching this scene, I was calm. Rachel should be receiving the divorce agreement soon. She slowly lowered Oliver’s hand in front of the crowd. Once seated, she took out her cell phone, her smile slowly fading. I professionally began to introduce the next collection when I was suddenly interrupted by Rachel, “Benjamin, do you really want a divorce?” The audience was instantly silent. Gradually, they began to whisper while the smile on Oliver’s face disappeared. After all, it was the first time Rachel had recognized me in public. I smiled and said gently, “Ms. Johnson, please don’t interrupt my work.” After that, I continued to introduce the collection. The crowd in the venue no longer wanted to listen to my introduction and looked at Rachel and me. As I introduced one item, Rachel would auction off one at five times the price. The audience let out a gasp of surprise. But Oliver’s expression was terrible. The last collection item was a pure gold brooch, with a starting bid of one million dollars. Rachel bid ten million dollars and won. She slowly walked up and picked up the brooch, pinning it to my collar. Rachel said, “Benjamin, stop pretending. Didn’t you just want me to publicize you? Now, you’ve succeeded.” With that, she patted me on the shoulder before turning to leave. Oliver gave me a grim look, then left after Rachel.

Reporters in the audience rushed forward, their microphones almost in my mouth. A female reporter asked, “Mr. Wellington, are you Ms. Johnson’s husband?” A male reporter asked, “Mr. Wellington, may I ask if you intentionally staged today’s scene?” Another female reporter asked, “Did you purposely break up Mr. Kensington and Ms. Johnson?” Question after question swamped me. Finally, with the help of my colleague, I returned backstage. Looking at the brooch on my collar, I felt an inexplicable surge of pain in my heart. Rachel still didn’t understand me after all these years. By the time I got home, it was already ten in the evening. Rachel was sitting on the couch with a cold face while Oliver was smoking a cigarette. Seeing me, Oliver said, his voice extremely hoarse, “Benjamin, you didn’t have to embarrass me in front of so many people.” Oliver sounded aggrieved, but I burst out laughing. Who was embarrassing who? Ignoring him, I headed straight upstairs to pack my suitcase. But Rachel’s voice sounded behind me. “Benjamin, our marriage is not child’s play. I hope you think it over.” Her voice was cold. I sped up my packing. Until I closed the suitcase, I turned to look into Rachel’s eyes and said, “Rachel, I’ve thought this through. Please sign the divorce agreement as soon as possible.” With that, I lifted my suitcase, passing Rachel to go downstairs. In a rare move, she chased after me. But she said, “Benjamin, Oliver is not easy on his own. What’s wrong with me giving him more? You’ve got everything. Do you have to take it from him? Benjamin, are you that petty?” All the way to the living room, I stopped. Oliver was still sitting on the couch, smoking one cigarette after another. He said, “Rachel, I’d better leave. Don’t argue with Benjamin.” With that, he got up and limped toward the front door. Rachel rushed to help him, and the two began to pull at each other. I just felt upset. It wasn’t the first time this kind of drama had played out in front of me. Once upon a time, I would have gone crazy asking Oliver to leave, accusing him of everything in front of Rachel. But at the moment, I just wanted to leave. I coldly put my suitcase in the trunk and quickly got in the car. Then, I started the car and drove away. I saw Rachel’s surprised look in the rearview mirror. Until she became a distant black dot, I let out a long breath as if I had let go of a heavy burden. When I got home, Aurora and my father, Kenneth Wellington, were standing in the doorway. Kenneth patted me lovingly on the shoulder. “Get some rest. I’ll take care of the rest.” I nodded, tears pouring down my face. Aurora hurriedly put a coat on me and went inside with me, holding my hand tightly. I had only just sat down when Rachel messaged me: [Where are you? What gives you the right to just leave? Benjamin, reply to my message.] I didn’t reply after reading it and put my phone down, taking the hot cocoa that Aurora handed me. I took a sip, feeling warm and sweet. In five years, I had never felt so relieved. At that moment, the doorbell rang. Rachel entered with an angry look, which only subsided a little when she saw Kenneth and Aurora. “Kenneth, Aurora, I’ve come to take Benjamin home.” With that, she sat down on the couch. Aurora sneered, “Rachel, the Wellington family isn’t necessarily joining forces with the Johnson family. “We know how much my son has suffered in the five years since he married you. “He’s too good-tempered to argue with you. But I’m his mother, and I can’t let you get away with this.” Hearing Aurora’s words, Rachel was stunned on the couch. She hadn’t expected Aurora to say that. Whenever I ran away from home before, Aurora would send us away with kind words whenever Rachel came to pick me up. This time, Aurora’s words went beyond what she expected. Rachel looked over at me, her mouth opening and closing, failing to utter a word. At that moment, the door was pushed open, and Oliver came running in with red eyes. He said, “Mr. Wellington, Mrs. Wellington, it’s all my fault. It’s my fault for making Benjamin angry. Benjamin, please forgive Rachel.” With that, he nearly fell to the ground, and Rachel rushed to help him up. Watching the scene, I said, “Rachel, send Oliver away, and I’ll go back with you.”

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By the third year of the government’s “Back-to-the-Land” program, Chloe Hill finally received her transfer papers to return to the city. One for her, and one for her fiancé. Her parents were overjoyed, already making plans for their wedding as soon as she returned home. What they didn’t know, however, was that Austin Ford—the man who had given up a secure government job to follow her to this remote rural town—no longer looked at her the way he used to. Once, she had been his entire world. But not anymore. The moment Chloe walked in and saw him tangled in bed with another woman, her heart shattered. That night, she made up her mind. She packed her bags and left without a word, boarding the first train back to the city. Months later, Jason Wells, a coworker and friend from the city, offered to drive her home after a long day. When they pulled up to her parents’ house, Jason noticed a man standing under the tree out front, his shoulders slouched, his face pale in the soft glow of the porch light. “He’s been waiting for hours,” Jason said, curious. “Do you know him?” Chloe glanced out the window, her gaze brushing over Austin’s tired figure before quickly looking away. “Just a neighbor,” she said flatly. Her tone was calm, emotionless. And with that, she walked into the house without a second glance.

“Chloe, the paperwork’s been sent in! You and Austin can finally come back to the city. It’s been three years since you left, and your dad and I miss you so much. Once you’re home, we’ll start planning your wedding!” Zoey’s voice brimmed with excitement and hope, but Chloe felt a suffocating weight settle in her chest. She didn’t know how to explain it to her mother—how to tell her that she and Austin weren’t the same anymore. Austin, the man who had once given up a secure job at Lumina to follow her to this remote rural town, no longer had room for Chloe in his heart.The thought of Natalie brought a shadow over Chloe’s face. Her breath hitched as bitterness crept in. Perhaps Zoey sensed her hesitation, as the silence on the phone stretched on too long. “Chloe…” Zoey’s tone softened, hesitant. “Your dad hasn’t been doing well. He’s been in the hospital for months now, but I didn’t want to worry you. He just wants to see you again…” Chloe’s grip on the receiver tightened, her heart sinking. “What’s wrong with Dad?” Zoey’s voice dropped, her words heavy. “The same old kidney issues. He’s stable, but…” She trailed off, her worry evident. “Look, there’s a train from Emberwood to Lumina next week. I’ve already bought you a ticket. You need to come home, Chloe.” She paused, her voice growing firm. “You have to come back.” The unease in Chloe’s heart grew. For the moment, she pushed aside the tangled mess of her relationship with Austin and nodded quickly, even though Zoey couldn’t see. “I’ll be there next week. I promise.” When the call ended, Chloe sat in a daze. The suddenness of it all had thrown her off balance. But maybe, just maybe, this was the opportunity she needed to finally resolve everything she’d been avoiding for so long. Her gaze fell on the framed photo on her bedside table. Her throat tightened as a wave of bitterness washed over her. Who would’ve thought that just three months ago, she and Austin had been planning their wedding? At the time, there hadn’t even been rumors of the transfers back to the city. She and Austin had spent three years in Emberwood and had all but given up on returning. They’d decided to settle down in this small town and build their lives here. The wedding preparations were modest. They’d applied for a small, run-down government apartment at the edge of the town—a cramped, twenty-square-foot unit with a shared kitchen in the hallway. When they moved in, Austin had held her hand, his usually stoic expression betraying a rare glimmer of emotion. His eyes were slightly red as he whispered, “I’m sorry it’s not much.” Chloe had smiled then, her heart full of love. She didn’t feel the slightest bit wronged. Back then, all she needed was him—and the bright future they would build together. She had even written a letter to her parents, eager to share the good news. But before she could send it, everything fell apart. That day, she had just finished putting up the red paper decorations for the wedding when Austin walked through the door—with another woman. “This is Natalie,” he said, his tone casual. “She’s new to our team, just moved here from the city like us.” Natalie was young, barely out of her teens, with wide, curious eyes that sparkled as she took in the room. “She’s not used to the group dorms,” Austin continued. “I thought it’d be better for her to stay here for a while.” Chloe froze. “I’ll sleep on the couch,” Austin added, glancing at Natalie with a faint smile. “You two can share the bedroom. She’s a city girl, just as delicate as you were back then.” His words stung, though she couldn’t quite pinpoint why. Chloe said nothing, quietly giving up half the bedroom to Natalie. She couldn’t argue—Austin had always been kindhearted, the type to help anyone in need. But that night, as Natalie chattered on about Austin, asking Chloe question after question, a seed of doubt took root. Chloe wasn’t blind. She could see the way Natalie looked at Austin, the spark of admiration in her eyes. To push away the unease, Chloe told Natalie their story. She and Austin had grown up together, childhood sweethearts in a close-knit neighborhood. Their parents had been best friends, and Mrs. Ford had often joked about Chloe becoming her daughter-in-law. When Chloe’s father passed away, Austin had been offered a secure factory job at Lumina—something any man in their town would dream of. But when Chloe was assigned to the rural relocation program, Austin gave it all up without hesitation to follow her to Emberwood. “Three years,” Chloe had said, her voice soft. “That’s how long we’ve been here together. We’ve been through so much, but we’ve made it work.” Natalie had listened intently, her eyes sparkling. “Austin’s amazing,” she’d said at last, her voice full of admiration. “You’re so lucky, Chloe. I wish you both a lifetime of happiness.” Chloe had smiled, relieved by the blessing. For a moment, the knot in her stomach loosened. But it didn’t last. In the days that followed, Chloe began to notice the growing closeness between Austin and Natalie. It was subtle at first—shared smiles, lingering conversations—but it soon became impossible to ignore.

Chloe stared at the framed photo in her hand and let out a quiet sigh. The two transfer papers sitting on the table—the ones that would finally allow them to leave this rural town and return to the city—felt heavier than they should. She wondered if Austin would even want to go back with her. If he said yes, if he was willing to leave this place and return home with her, then maybe she could forget everything that had happened. Forget Natalie, forget the doubts, and pretend none of it had ever existed. Maybe, without Natalie around, all those inappropriate feelings of his would fade away. But then she thought of her mother, Zoey, and the worried tone in her voice when she mentioned her father’s illness. A flicker of worry crossed Chloe’s face, quickly replaced by resolve. If Austin didn’t want to go back, then it was time to end this. She would cut him out of her heart, once and for all. From that moment forward, they’d go their separate ways. Just as she was trying to think of how to bring it up, the sound of footsteps came from the door. Chloe looked up and saw Austin walking in—with Natalie right beside him. The two were walking close, their heads tilted toward each other as they laughed about something, their shoulders almost touching. Chloe’s gaze dropped to what they were carrying. Her expression darkened as she stood up abruptly. “Austin,” she said coldly, her voice sharp. “Why did you take my dad’s camera?” The laughter between the two immediately stopped. Austin and Natalie both froze, finally noticing Chloe standing in the room. Natalie fidgeted nervously, tugging at the hem of her jacket. She was quick to explain, her voice soft and pitiful. “It’s my fault. I just bought some new clothes and wanted Austin to take a few pictures for me.” She held out the camera with both hands, her eyes wide and apologetic. “I was going to ask you first, Chloe, but Austin said you wouldn’t mind and that it was okay if I used it.” Chloe’s jaw tightened. Here we go again. Another one of Natalie’s sweet, innocent excuses that somehow always painted Chloe as the unreasonable one. This wasn’t the first time. Over the past three months, Chloe had seen this play out far too often—a small favor, a little misunderstanding, and Austin stepping in to defend Natalie no matter what. Her patience, already worn thin, snapped. She held out her hand, her tone icy. “Next time, don’t touch my things.” At her words, Austin’s expression darkened. His sharp features set into a frown, his brows furrowed in displeasure. “Chloe, what’s with that attitude?” he said, his voice low and laced with irritation. “Natalie’s new here. She’s still adjusting to life out in the middle of nowhere. I just wanted to cheer her up with a few photos—what’s the big deal?” His tone was full of reproach, as if Chloe were the one in the wrong. Chloe’s face hardened. It felt like a heavy weight had settled in her chest, making it hard to breathe. Without another word, she stepped forward and snatched the camera out of his hand. Her eyes locked onto his, her voice cutting. “I said, don’t touch my things. That goes for you too, Austin.” Austin blinked, visibly startled. For a moment, he stared at her, confusion flickering across his face. “Chloe?” he said, his voice tinged with disbelief. Since when had there ever been a ”yours” and ”mine” between them? They had grown up together, shared everything. She had always been his and he had always been hers. But before he could say anything more, Chloe’s expression shifted. Her face paled as her fingers rapidly scrolled through the photos on the camera. “Where are they?” she whispered, her voice trembling. Natalie tilted her head, her tone light and innocent. “Where is what?” Chloe’s fingers moved faster, her panic mounting with every moment. The photos she had taken of her parents—her father’s smile, her mother’s warm embrace—were gone. In their place were dozens of pictures of Natalie, posing in her new clothes, beaming in every shot. Chloe’s grip on the camera tightened as she turned to Natalie, her hands shaking with fury. “The old photos,” she demanded. “The ones I took of my parents. Where are they?” Natalie blinked, feigning confusion, before her lips parted in mock surprise. “Oh, those? The memory card was full, so I deleted them to make space. I didn’t know they were important…” Her voice trailed off, her tone laced with false regret. But behind her wide, apologetic eyes, Chloe caught a flicker of something else—a flash of smug satisfaction. “Enough!” Austin snapped, stepping between them. He placed himself protectively in front of Natalie, his voice low and firm. “She didn’t mean to, Chloe. It was an accident. Why are you making such a big deal out of this? You’re scaring her!” Scaring her? Chloe’s hands trembled as anger and heartbreak surged through her. She stared at Austin, the man who had once been her whole world, now standing in front of another woman, shielding her. He knew what those photos meant to her. He knew how much she had clung to them during the hardest times of her life. When she had left home in a hurry, her parents had bought the camera just to take a few family pictures before she left. Her father had placed it in her hands before she boarded the train. “Whenever you miss us,” he had said, his voice thick with emotion, “just look at these.” Those photos had been her anchor during her years in Emberwood, a reminder of the family waiting for her back home. And now, they were gone. Chloe looked at Austin, her eyes brimming with tears. His expression was cold, his body language defensive—as if she were the intruder in her own life. “An accident,” he had said. The disappointment hit her like a tidal wave, drowning out every lingering hope she had held onto. Her voice trembled as she spoke, each word heavy with pain. “This man,” she thought bitterly, “isn’t worth saving.”

At some point, Chloe realized her face was wet. Tears had blurred her vision, streaming down unchecked. Austin froze for a moment, stunned. This was the first time he had seen Chloe look so utterly heartbroken, so defeated. For a brief second, something squeezed at his chest, and his voice softened instinctively. “I’ll take the camera to the photo shop later,” he said hesitantly, loosening the arm that had been wrapped protectively around Natalie’s shoulders. “Maybe they can recover the pictures.” He reached out toward Chloe, as if to steady her. “This was my mistake. I should’ve told Natalie those photos were important to you,” he added. Chloe wanted to laugh—wanted to scoff. A mistake? Forgetting to explain? That was the excuse he was going with? Natalie knew. She knew. Chloe had caught her watching once, when she sat on her bed holding her father’s old camera, flipping through the pictures of her parents. She had even told Natalie the story—about the family portraits taken just before she left, and how much they meant to her. This wasn’t a mistake. Natalie had done it on purpose. And now, nestled against Austin, Natalie’s expression radiated smug satisfaction. Her eyes practically sparkled with triumph as if to say: Go on, tell him the truth. Let’s see who he believes. The answer was painfully obvious. Chloe forced her eyes shut, forcing the bitterness down. When she opened them again, her voice was calm, emotionless. “Austin, I need to talk to you. Alone.” Her tone betrayed none of the anger or hurt from moments before, as if she had already locked those feelings away. Without waiting for his response, she turned and walked into the bedroom, leaving the door open behind her. Austin frowned, tugging his sleeve free from Natalie’s grip. He hesitated for a moment before following her. Behind him, Natalie’s wide-eyed, innocent expression melted into a sly smirk. She crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe with a quiet, derisive snort. Austin’s heart was already hers. What did she have to fear from a washed-up, tear-streaked woman like Chloe? The room was silent, heavy with unspoken words. Chloe was the first to break it. “My mom called today,” she said quietly. “She managed to pull some strings and get two transfer papers for the city.” Austin froze, his breath catching. For a moment, his face lit up with a mixture of disbelief and joy. “Two papers?” he repeated. “After three years… we’re finally going back?” He let out a breath of relief, the tension in his shoulders visibly easing. “I can’t believe it. We finally have a chance.” Chloe watched him, her chest tightening as memories of their time together flooded her mind. The struggles, the compromises, the dreams they had built together in this place. For a brief moment, she felt the sting of nostalgia, but it was quickly replaced by the cold reality of the present. “My mom hoped we’d go back together,” she continued, her voice steady. “She was already talking about planning our wedding in Lumina.” Austin’s smile faltered. Something about her tone—calm, detached—made him uneasy. “But I’ve been thinking,” Chloe said, looking him straight in the eye. “There’s no point anymore.” The smile vanished completely. His brows furrowed, and his expression grew tense. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded, his voice low. “I’ve already told you, I only see Natalie as a little sister.” Chloe let out a sharp laugh, one that was more bitter than amused. “A sister?” she repeated, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’ve heard that excuse so many times over the past three months, Austin. I could recite it in my sleep.” She shook her head, her tone cutting. “You’re not related. She’s not your sister. She’s just an excuse.” Austin opened his mouth to argue, but Chloe didn’t give him the chance. “When you followed me here three years ago, you gave up everything,” she said, her words deliberate. “This transfer paper… consider it repayment for everything you’ve done for me. I won’t use it to force you into anything. I won’t hold it over your head or guilt you into marrying me.” Her gaze hardened, though her voice remained calm. “Your heart isn’t with me anymore, Austin. Let’s end this here. Let’s make a clean break.” Austin’s jaw tightened, his expression darkening. “Chloe, stop it,” he snapped, his voice rising. “You’re overthinking everything again. The wedding is at the end of the month, just like we planned. Once we’re married, all this nonsense will stop.” With that, he turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind him. Chloe stood there, staring at the closed door. She let out a long, shaky breath, her lips curling into a bitter smile. She didn’t even have the energy to argue anymore. Austin always thought marriage was the solution to every problem, as if tying the knot would magically make everything right. But Chloe refused to marry a man whose heart didn’t fully belong to her. No matter what, this wedding wasn’t going to happen. She was going to leave. She did some quick calculations in her head. The wedding was in eight days. Conveniently, the train to Lumina was scheduled to leave in exactly seven. Thank God she hadn’t told Austin about the train. If he knew, who knows what he might do to stop her? Chloe closed her eyes briefly. The plan was simple. She’d leave the day before the wedding. This chapter of her life, this place, this relationship—it would finally come to an end. Outside the room, someone had overheard every word. Natalie stood behind the wooden post, her heart racing in her chest. Two transfer papers. Her family had pulled every string they could and had barely managed to secure one—and even that had gone to her useless younger brother. If she could get her hands on one of those papers… Natalie’s mind raced. She’d grown up in the city, where life was tough but bearable. They weren’t rich, but at least they had food on the table and a solid roof over their heads. But here? In this godforsaken backwater town? She was sick of the cramped dorms, the bland food, the endless tedium. She couldn’t stand another day of it. At least Austin had made things bearable. He treated her well, made her feel comfortable. But what about the future? If he really married Chloe, where would that leave her? Natalie clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. Austin wasn’t just any man. He was good-looking, well-educated, and came from a decent family. Back in Lumina, men like him were hard to come by—even for someone like her, who had grown up in the city. Her gaze darkened as she thought about the transfer papers Chloe had mentioned. She wanted both. The city and the man.

After that fight, Chloe and Austin fell into an icy silence, barely speaking to one another. But despite the tension, Austin still seemed determined to go through with the wedding. Every day, he brought home something new for the ceremony—a pair of wedding candles, a set of red satin decorations, or a box of invitations. Chloe, however, remained indifferent. She didn’t care about any of it. Her time was spent tying up loose ends at the coffee farm, making sure everything was in order before she left. Since she had made up her mind to leave, she wasn’t about to leave behind a mess for someone else to deal with. What Chloe didn’t expect was for trouble to find her so soon. One afternoon, Austin showed up at the coffee farm with Natalie in tow. Chloe barely had time to process what was happening. Natalie’s clothes were rumpled, her hair disheveled, and her eyes red and swollen from crying. She clung to Austin like a helpless child, burying herself in his chest. Chloe frowned instinctively. “What’s going on?” Before she could get another word out, the sound of a slap rang through the air. “Smack!” The force of the blow turned her head to the side, and she tasted the metallic tang of blood on her lip. “Chloe, how could you do something so disgusting?” Austin’s voice was cold as he jabbed a finger in her face. His eyes burned with anger, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “I can’t believe I ever trusted you. You’re so blinded by jealousy that you’d stoop this low—sending Natalie to collect from those thugs? If I hadn’t gotten there in time, who knows what might’ve happened to her!” His words hit harder than the slap itself. Chloe slowly turned her head back to face him, her cheek stinging, but her expression was eerily calm. “You think I did this?” she asked, her voice cold and steady. “Don’t accuse me without proof, Austin.” Austin’s anger didn’t waver. He glared at her like she was a stranger, someone he no longer recognized. “Proof? What else do you want? Natalie wouldn’t make something like this up!” Natalie, still crying, tugged gently on Austin’s arm as if to calm him down. Her voice trembled as she spoke, each word carefully chosen. “This… this is all my fault,” she sobbed, her tone pitiful. “I shouldn’t have gotten so close to Austin. I ruined your relationship, Chloe. I’m sorry. Please, just let me go. I’ll leave, okay? Just don’t hate me anymore…” Her words were like gasoline on a fire. The onlookers, who had gathered to watch the drama unfold, began murmuring among themselves. “I can’t believe Chloe would do something like that.” “Natalie’s a little naive, sure, but she doesn’t deserve this kind of treatment.” “See? This is why they say jealousy makes women cruel.” Natalie’s lips curled ever so slightly into a satisfied smirk as she clung tighter to Austin. Her eyes met Chloe’s for a brief moment, full of mockery and triumph. Chloe’s expression hardened. Without warning, she stepped forward and yanked Natalie out of Austin’s arms, nearly sending her sprawling to the ground. Natalie let out a startled yelp, but Chloe didn’t flinch. Years of hard work on the coffee farm had toughened her up. She wasn’t the delicate, pampered girl she used to be, and dealing with someone like Natalie was hardly a challenge. “Chloe!” Austin shouted, rushing forward. But the sharp look Chloe shot him stopped him in his tracks. “You think I did this to her?” Chloe said, her voice sharp and cutting. “Fine. Let’s get to the bottom of it.” This was the first time Austin had seen this side of her—cold, resolute, and filled with a quiet fury that bordered on hatred. Chloe turned to Natalie, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “You said I sent you to collect money from those men. When? Where? Show me the proof. Bring out a witness—anyone who can back up your story.” The crowd went silent. In a small town like this, people knew Chloe was the one who handled the coffee farm’s finances. When it came to collecting debts, she was careful. Knowing some debtors could be dangerous, she always sent two strong men to handle it. She never sent anyone like Natalie. The murmurs began again, but this time, they were different. People glanced at Natalie with suspicion, their whispers growing louder. Natalie’s face paled, panic flickering in her eyes. If Chloe proved she was lying, it would ruin her. She’d already made enough enemies in this town with her entitled attitude and lazy work ethic. The only reason anyone tolerated her was because of Chloe and Austin. If the truth came out, her life here would become unbearable. Desperate, Natalie turned to Austin, her eyes wide and pleading. “Austin!” she cried, clinging to his arm. “You were there! You heard her tell me to go! You have to back me up!” Austin froze, his face conflicted. He looked down at Natalie, who was trembling and crying at his feet. Her words echoed in his mind, her desperation tugging at his heart. “Austin, please,” she whispered. “If you don’t help me, I’ll have nothing left. People will think I lied. How am I supposed to live with that?” Chloe stood a few feet away, her eyes locked on his. Her gaze was cold, filled with quiet defiance. She wasn’t begging him to take her side. She wasn’t pleading for his trust. She just stared at him, waiting to see what he would do. The room felt suffocatingly quiet as the weight of the moment pressed down on him. Finally, Austin looked away from Chloe’s unyielding gaze. He knelt down and gently helped Natalie to her feet. “Yes,” he said quietly. “I heard her. Chloe told you to do it.” The words left his mouth like a death sentence. The crowd gasped in unison. This was Austin—Chloe’s childhood sweetheart, the man who had followed her to this small town and stood by her side for years. If he was saying it, how could it not be true? The murmurs turned into outright condemnation. “So it’s true. Chloe really did send her.” “Unbelievable. No wonder even her fiancé is siding with Natalie.” “What kind of person does that?”

After Austin sided with Natalie and lied to protect her, Chloe stood frozen in place like a lifeless statue. She stared at Austin, her expression caught somewhere between a smile and tears, twisted with disbelief. She had thought that perhaps Austin had simply fallen out of love with her, that his heart had shifted toward someone else. That, she could have accepted, painful as it might have been. But this? Watching him abandon his principles, watching him lie and tarnish her name for Natalie’s sake—this was something she hadn’t anticipated. In that moment, Chloe’s heart turned cold. She had once hoped that even if they couldn’t be together as husband and wife, they could at least part as friends, cherishing the memories they had shared. But now, it was clear that to Austin, her love and loyalty were worth nothing. As Natalie clung to Austin’s arm, her smirk practically dripping with triumph, Chloe felt no anger, no bitterness. Everything she had once felt for these two people vanished the moment Austin spoke those damning words against her. Chloe’s gaze landed on Natalie, calm and detached. If you want him so badly, take him. I don’t keep trash. The murmurs of the coffee farm workers surrounded her, full of judgment and scorn. Without hesitation, Chloe unpinned her supervisor badge, handed it to the next manager in line, and turned to leave. Her decisiveness caught everyone off guard, including Austin. “Chloe!” he called after her, his voice desperate. But Chloe didn’t look back. A man like that was no longer worth her time. When she returned home, Chloe began packing up her belongings. This little house had been her pride and joy, a place she had poured her energy and love into, brick by brick. She thought about the icy winters she had endured, pasting the windows shut with homemade glue to keep out the cold drafts. She thought of the time she patched the roof with scavenged tiles, balancing precariously on a borrowed ladder. Every corner of this house was a reflection of her effort and hope for the future she and Austin were supposed to share. But now, the small vanity she had saved up for was cluttered with Natalie’s belongings. The sweater she had spent weeks knitting for Austin had been ruined by Natalie, who had offered a half-hearted apology about accidentally “washing it wrong.” There were too many little moments like this, each one a tiny dagger to Chloe’s heart. And every time she had tried to bring it up, Austin had dismissed her, calling her petty and jealous. It was as if, the moment Natalie showed up, every sacrifice Chloe had made for this home became invisible to him. She glanced around the room. The red wedding decorations she had once hung with such hope and joy now felt like cruel mockery. Chloe grabbed a bucket and headed outside to the well. When Austin came home that evening, the first thing he saw was a pile of red paper strewn across the muddy ground. The wedding decorations had been ripped down, their bright colors dulled by dirt and water. Natalie wasn’t with him for some reason, but he didn’t seem to care. Standing in the small yard, he let out a frustrated sigh. “Do you always have to make such a big deal out of everything?” he said, his tone sharp. “She’s just a young girl. Can’t you show a little grace?” Chloe didn’t even flinch. She had heard this lecture too many times before. The first time he had said those words, they had stung so badly she had to fight back tears. But she had learned quickly that crying only made things worse—especially when Natalie was around to see it. Instead, she had started sneaking off to the woods near the coffee farm, letting herself cry where no one could see. That had been her first clue that this house, this so-called “home,” was no longer hers. A place that couldn’t offer you comfort wasn’t a home—it was just a building. Now, his words barely registered. She continued tearing down the decorations, her expression blank. Seeing her indifference, Austin finally snapped. He grabbed her wrist, stopping her mid-motion. “Have you had enough?” he said coldly, his grip tightening. Chloe met his gaze, her voice calm but cutting. “If you don’t want me to tear them down, fine. Save them for when you marry Natalie. No point letting them go to waste.” Austin’s jaw tightened, his irritation clear. “I’ve told you a thousand times,” he said through gritted teeth. “The only person I’m marrying is you. No one else.” Chloe pulled her wrist free, her eyes full of disdain. “Marrying you is supposed to be some kind of honor?” she shot back. “Don’t flatter yourself, Austin. You think I’d be grateful for that? You’re delusional.” She dropped the bucket she was holding, the water splashing onto Austin’s shoes and pants, and turned to head back inside. Before she could make it to the door, Austin’s voice stopped her. “Apologize to Natalie,” he said firmly. Chloe froze, her hand on the doorframe. “She’s younger than you, and she didn’t know any better. Just apologize in front of everyone, and this whole thing will blow over.” Chloe turned slowly, her eyes narrowing as she walked toward him. Without warning, she slapped him hard across the face. “Austin,” she said, her voice trembling with fury, “you are the most disgusting, spineless man I have ever met.” Austin’s face darkened, his eyes stormy as he clenched his fists. “I’m just trying to fix this,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “If you don’t clear your name, how do you expect your application to move forward? You think the city will let someone with a reputation like yours back in?” Chloe’s blood ran cold. “My application?” she said softly. “You didn’t think about my application when you helped Natalie accuse me. You didn’t care what would happen to me then.” Austin’s expression flickered with guilt for a moment, but he quickly recovered. “Just do what I’m saying,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Once the application goes through, we can leave this place behind. We’ll go back to Lumina and start fresh. No more Natalie. Just us.” Chloe stared at him, the words she had once longed to hear finally spoken aloud. But it was too late. She felt nothing but exhaustion and disgust. “No,” she said firmly, her voice steady. “We’re done here.”

Even though Chloe felt disgusted by Austin’s demand for her to apologize, she couldn’t deny that the issue weighed heavily on her mind. If her application to return to the city wasn’t approved, all her efforts would be for nothing. After much deliberation, she decided to seek out Emily, the deputy mayor of Emberwood. Emily, a woman in her forties with a reputation for fairness, had always been someone Chloe could trust. When Chloe poured her heart out, Emily didn’t need much explanation to piece together what had happened. She listened quietly, her expression growing heavier with each word. Finally, Emily shook her head, her tone both sympathetic and firm. “I warned you, Chloe. It’s fine to help others when you can, but bringing someone like that into your home? That’s a whole different story.” With a long sigh, Emily’s gaze softened. “Poor girl. You’ve been through so much.” Chloe had held back her tears when Natalie accused her. She had refused to cry when Austin betrayed her. But now, hearing those simple words of understanding, she couldn’t hold it in any longer. She broke down in Emily’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Emily patted her back gently and waited until Chloe had calmed down before bringing her a basin of warm water to wash her face. “About Natalie,” Emily said with a sigh, “I can’t undo the damage, and I can’t clear your name. But let’s be honest—the real problem here isn’t you. It’s those men she was sent to deal with. At worst, you could be blamed for poor management, but that’s hardly a crime.” She paused, tapping her fingers thoughtfully. “If only your Austin had been honest…” Emily trailed off, her lips tightening. Clearly, she was thinking about not just Austin’s lies but his audacity in asking Chloe to apologize to Natalie. “Never mind,” Emily said with a decisive nod. “I’ll speak to the mayor myself. We’ve all seen the kind of person you’ve been these past three years, Chloe. Trust me—I’ll vouch for you. You’ll get your approval to return home.” Emily’s confidence brought tears to Chloe’s eyes again, but this time, they were tears of gratitude. After thanking Emily profusely, Chloe returned home and began packing her belongings. She had already submitted her application and was now just waiting for the signed approval to leave Emberwood. As she packed, her thoughts drifted to her parents. She hadn’t seen them in years, and the thought of finally going home brought a bittersweet ache to her chest. But as she sorted through her things, Chloe realized there wasn’t much left of her own. She searched the house high and low, but it seemed most of her clothes had disappeared. They had always lived frugally, stretching every dollar to its limit. Yet just the other day, Natalie had paraded around in a brand-new dress made of expensive fabric shipped in from the city. That single dress had cost more than Austin’s entire month’s salary. Chloe was still stewing over this when the door suddenly creaked open. Austin walked in, holding a bright red wedding dress in his hands. He placed it on the table in front of her. “The custom dress is ready,” he said. “Try it on and see if it fits.” Chloe barely spared it a glance, her expression cold and indifferent. Austin frowned at her lack of reaction but chose not to press the issue. “We’re getting married the day after tomorrow,” he reminded her. “Make sure it fits. If it doesn’t, I’ll get it altered.” Of everything Austin said, Chloe only focused on one part: the day after tomorrow. That meant tomorrow was the day the train would arrive to take her to Lumina. Her escape was closer than she had realized. The next morning, Chloe woke before dawn, packed her bags, and headed straight for the train station. She joined the line of people waiting to board, her suitcase in hand. The approval for her city application was still pending, but it would be mailed directly to Lumina for her to finalize. The process was a bit of a hassle, but at least it meant she could leave Emberwood behind for good. As the line inched forward, an inexplicable sense of unease began to creep over her. By the time she reached the ticket booth, that unease had grown into full-blown panic. She frantically searched through her bag, but no matter how many times she checked, the train ticket she had carefully tucked away the night before was nowhere to be found. The ticket agent gave her an impatient look. “Can I buy another one now?” Chloe asked, her voice trembling. “Sorry, tickets for this train are sold out,” the agent replied curtly. Heart pounding, Chloe grabbed her bag and bolted back toward home. She had to make it back in time to find the ticket. Missing this train wasn’t an option—there wouldn’t be another one for a month. Out of breath, Chloe shoved the door open, only to freeze in her tracks. Standing in the living room was Natalie, wearing her red wedding dress. Natalie flinched at the sight of her, clearly caught off guard. “Chloe, I didn’t mean to—” she stammered, her cheeks flushing. “Austin asked me to try it on. He thought we were about the same size, and he wanted to make sure it fit…” Natalie kept rambling, but Chloe wasn’t listening. She pushed past her and began tearing through the house, searching for her ticket. Austin appeared in the doorway, watching her with a calm, almost detached expression. “You won’t find it,” he said flatly. Chloe froze, her hands trembling. Her entire body felt like it had been submerged in ice. “What… what do you mean?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I ripped it up,” Austin said, his tone matter-of-fact. For a moment, Chloe couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe. Then she turned to face him, her pale face contorted with disbelief. “You’re lying,” she said, her voice hoarse. “You’re lying. Tell me you’re lying!” “I told you,” Austin said firmly, his gaze steady. “We’re getting married. Whatever you need to do, it can wait until after the wedding.” Chloe’s lips quivered as she stared at him, her hands clutching at his arms in desperation. “Austin, give it back,” she begged. “Please, just give it back!” But Austin didn’t respond. Before Chloe could say anything else, the door burst open, and Emily rushed in, her face pale with urgency. “Chloe!” she cried, nearly out of breath. “Why haven’t you left yet? Your family sent a telegram—your father’s gravely ill. They say he doesn’t have much time left!”

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I was born with the gift of motherhood—my body made to bear the heirs—but it was never enough for my mate. He despised my curves, calling me crude and disgusting, never once touching me with love. He turned to my cousin Dariya, a slender beauty, seeking to marry her and discard me as his second mate. Then, they cast me out. Accused of losing my purity, they threw me into the filthy streets, where I was beaten and left to die. But death wasn’t the end. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the moment my mate had chosen my cousin. This time, I would not be discarded. This time, I would rise. I would bear the Alpha’s children and become the Luna I was always meant to be. ChapterThe moon hung high in the ink-black sky, casting its pale glow over the forest as Mike’s cold, sneering words cut through the tension like a blade. “I’m going to take Jade as my Luna,” he declared, his amber eyes gleaming with triumph. “You, with your pitiful demeanor and unworthy airs, are unfit to stand by my side.” I stared at Mike before me, his towering frame exuding arrogance. His words didn’t just sting—they confirmed one undeniable truth: I had been reborn. My first life had ended in humiliation, crushed under the weight of this man’s schemes and disdain. Yet here I was, alive once more, and the rules of the game had changed. Mike’s brow furrowed as my silence lingered. “Jade is everything you’re not. She’s pure, delicate, and refined despite her humble origins. Her beauty could make spirits dance, her grace worthy of a mate’s crown. Unlike you, she will bring honor to this family.” I nearly laughed. His words were as hollow as the promises he had once whispered under the silvery light of our mating bond. Back then, I was naive enough to believe him. Back then, I had no idea that he had married me only for the wealth my mother had painstakingly amassed for my dowry—wealth that had made . “You think Jade’s better than me?” I finally asked, my voice cold, laced with something that gave Mike pause. He narrowed his eyes but continued. “She is better,” he spat, his voice hardening. “When I was struggling to lead during the famine, I had no choice but to borrow your family’s wealth. I saved lives with that money, yet now, with peace restored and the alpha himself promising me rewards, it’s time you made way for Jade.” He said it so casually, as if tossing me aside were no different than shedding a coat he’d outgrown. In my first life, my mother had doted on me, reminding me every day of my blessings. “Never let anyone know your worth until the right time, my darling,” she had said. “Once you have your mate’s heir, your place will be secure.” But Mike had never valued me. The moment he laid eyes on the riches accompanying my dowry, I became nothing more than a pawn in his schemes. “Jade may have your favor,” I said, my voice steady, sharp as steel. In my past life, after the famine relief was complete, Beta Mike wasted no time declaring his intent to marry my cousin Dariya and crown her as his Luna. Back then, I had refused to yield. He sneered at my protest, his voice like a whip cracking through my resolve. “Jade is your cousin,” he snarled, his golden eyes glowing with the dominance of his Beta rank, daring me to challenge him. “I’ve broken no vows by choosing her. Look at you—weak, repulsive, unworthy. If it weren’t for your family’s lands , I wouldn’t have so much as claimed you as my mate, let alone considered you fit to bear my pups. You should be grateful I’m even offering you a place as my second mate. Don’t overreach.” The venom in his words should have shattered me, but I had been weak then, just a lowly wolf clinging to the hope that love could bloom from duty. I believed that if I endured his scorn, humbled myself before his arrogance, and bore his heir, my place within the pack—and his heart—would be secured. Foolishly, I resolved to fulfill my role, blind to the cracks forming in my soul. That night, dressed in ceremonial silks dyed the red of blood moons, I stepped into his den. But as I pushed open the oak doors carved with runes of loyalty and protection, the sight that greeted me turned my world to ash. There, sprawled in the glow of the hearth fire, Beta Mike was entwined with my half-sister Dariya. Their shadows twisted and merged, a mocking dance of betrayal beneath the wolf sigils etched into the walls. Dariya’s cruel laughter echoed through the room as she rose languidly, draping herself in furs as if to shield her sin. Her lips curled into a smirk that bared her sharp teeth. “Sister,” she purred, her voice dripping with malice, “dressed like that, you look more like a desperate omega begging for scraps than a Beta’s mate.” Her words cut deep, but it was Mike’s silence that was the sharpest blade. He didn’t bother to defend me, didn’t look at me with even an ounce of guilt. Instead, his eyes held the cold triumph of a predator savoring its kill. What followed was a nightmare I never escaped. Mike cast me out of the pack lands, dragging me to the borders where the moonlight barely reached. “You disgrace the title of mate,” he growled, his wolf surging beneath his skin as if to emphasize his disgust. “Your impurity is an insult to the pack. You’re no longer welcome here.” With a cruel shove, he threw me into the outlawed territories, where rogues and feral wolves roamed, waiting to devour the weak. They descended on me like vultures, their claws tearing into my flesh, their howls a symphony of my suffering. I endured agony beyond measure, my wolf crying out for mercy as I was ripped apart. When I managed to crawl back to the packhouse, clinging to the faint hope that my mate bond would protect me, Mike was waiting. He condemned me before the gathered wolves, his Beta voice booming with righteous fury. “She has dishonored herself,” he declared, his words laced with lies. “Her betrayal and impurity are a stain upon this pack. I sever this bond and cast her out as a rogue.” And so, I died. Alone. Abandoned. Betrayed. While Mike and Dariya thrived, their lies building them a throne of stolen wealth and power. They became the pride of the pack, celebrated as the ideal pair, while I faded into the shadows, my name smeared and forgotten. But that was a lifetime ago. Now, standing before him, I forced a radiant smile onto my lip. “Beta Mike, you’re absolutely right,” I said sweetly, my voice as smooth as a wolf’s purr before a kill. “Dariya deserves the finest. The estate has grown old and worn; we must ensure it is properly renovated to welcome your new Luna.” Let him think he had won. Let Dariya step into this pack as if she were a queen. This time, I would play the long game. The lands he coveted, the wealth he believed was his, would become a noose around her neck. I would see her buried under the weight of debts so deep not even the moonlight could save her. And Mike? He would learn that betrayal had a price. Chapter

Mike looked at me with suspicion. “You agreed so easily? Back when I married you, you said you wanted a bond that would last a lifetime, one mate for eternity.” I hid a cold smile behind my sweet expression. He remembered those words, and yet he dared to do such a thing. His famine relief efforts may have earned him accolades, but I was born into the prestigious Riche Pack. My father’s family had generations of wealth built on commerce, and I knew better than to openly challenge him now. Suppressing the urge to strike him, I forced a dazzling smile. “Dariya isn’t an outsider. Marrying you is already a blessing for me. How could I not agree?” Mike’s eyes gleamed with pleasure, his gaze lingering on me with newfound desire. “Jade, we’ve been married a year, and yet we’ve never consummated the bond. Your behavior today pleases me. Perhaps I’ll spend the night in your chambers as a reward.” I resisted the urge to retch and stepped back delicately. “Unfortunately, it’s my time of the moon,” I said lightly. Mike’s expression darkened, irritation flickering across his face. “Don’t think I desire your coarse body. I was merely offering you pity. See to the preparations for Dariya’s welcome. That’s your responsibility now.” With a huff, he turned on his heel and left. That night, I caught a glimpse of Dariya sneaking into Mike’s study, staying until the first rays of dawn. I smiled coldly. These two vile creatures… This lifetime, I wouldn’t let them get away with anything. I meticulously reviewed the properties and assets my mother had gifted me upon my marriage, consolidating every estate and shop under my name. Then, I commissioned the most extravagant wedding supplies imaginable, sparing no expense. Dariya’s mother was a mere performer, a woman of no status, with no dowry to speak of. In our past life, they had coveted the wealth my mother had entrusted to me. They wouldn’t stop until they drained me dry. Did they wish for the grandest wedding the pack had ever seen? Very well, I would ensure they got what they wanted—but not without consequence. Beta Mike’s heroic relief efforts were well-known across the packs. When the time came to settle the accounts, who would dare demand repayment from an abandoned mate like me? Once the wedding arrangements were nearly complete, I excused myself under the pretense of praying for my ailing mother-in-law. I remembered from my past life that the Alpha of Silverfang Pack, Jason, had once fallen victim to an aphrodisiac in this remote temple. He had sought solace with a farmer’s daughter, a girl praying for her sick family. Poor and powerless, she became his Luna, but her inability to conceive left her cast aside, her spirit broken until she withered away. This time, I intervened. I found the young farmer’s daughter before the events could unfold and offered her a generous sum of werewolf coins, enough to cover her family’s medical expenses. Grateful, she left the temple with her blessings, unaware of the storm I was about to unleash. That night, I stayed in her quarters, waiting patiently. It wasn’t long before I heard the soft scuffle of footsteps and whispers outside the door. “She’s unmarked,” a shrill voice whispered. “No mate bond. She’s perfect. Quickly, bring the Alpha in. The effects of the drug are intensifying, and there’s no time to waste.” The door burst open, and they dragged in a man. His powerful presence filled the room despite the haze clouding his amber eyes. His pheromones, strong and intoxicating, left no doubt that he was Alpha Jason. The door shut behind him, and before I could react, his heated body was pressed against mine. The drug had consumed him, his wolf taking over as he growled possessively. His touch was rough yet oddly reverent as he pulled me into his arms. The pain was sharp, a tearing of flesh and pride. But I didn’t flinch. This was nothing compared to the betrayal I had endured in my past life. I let him claim me, mark me, and bind me in a way Mike never had. By dawn, Jason stirred. He sat up, his gaze falling on the crimson-stained cloth beside him. A satisfied smile played on his lips. “You… Who are you? I’m Alpha Jason of Silverfang. I marked you last night. Rest assured, you’ll be cared for.” I knelt before him, my voice steady as I met his startled gaze. “I am Jade, the eldest daughter of Tudor, a merchant of the Riche Pack. I was married to Beta Mike.” Jason’s eyes widened, the golden hue of his wolf flaring in disbelief. “You… You’re Mike’s mate? But you were unmarked—untouched!” I bowed my head, letting my voice tremble with carefully crafted vulnerability. “I used half of my family’s fortune to aid Beta Mike’s famine relief efforts. It was the only way I could secure the position of his mate. But he has always despised me for my appearance, never consummating our bond. Now, he plans to break our bond and take my cousin Dariya as his Luna. I fled here to escape a life of humiliation.” Jason’s gaze darkened, the air around him crackling with anger. “Mike dares to insult the mate bond? To cast you aside for another?” His voice was low and dangerous, his wolf’s fury palpable. Chapter

Alpha Jason pondered my words for a long moment before speaking. “Last night, you saved me, and for that, you’ve earned my gratitude. Your reputation as a dutiful daughter-in-law and your contributions to Mike’s so-called famine relief are known, though I was unaware it was your funds that sustained him. I will see to it that Beta Mike answers for his crimes. For him to spurn a beauty like you and steal your wealth to glorify himself—then take another as his mate—is unforgivable.” Jason’s piercing gaze settled on me, a flicker of curiosity mingling with admiration. “You should break the bond with him. But tell me, what plans do you have after?” I lowered my head, feigning shyness. My cheeks burned crimson, and I dared not meet his eyes. Alpha Jason’s expression softened. He stepped forward and, without warning, swept me into his arms, cradling me as though I were the most precious treasure. “Would you become my mate?” His voice dropped to a tender murmur. Tears welled in my eyes as I nodded solemnly. “I’ve already been claimed by you, my Alpha. My life belongs to you now.” Jason’s lips descended on mine, a kiss full of unspoken promises and fiery passion. When he finally pulled away, his gaze was steady yet conflicted. “But there is one thing you must know,” he said gravely. “I am cursed, unable to sire heirs. If you choose to stay by my side, when I leave this world, you will be required to follow me into the grave. Are you still willing?” I met his gaze unwaveringly, a sly smile hidden beneath my facade. “I am willing, my Alpha.” What Jason didn’t know was that after the tumultuous night we’d shared, his supposed curse would soon be lifted.Because I have a highly fertile body. Jason insisted on sending an elite guard to escort me back to Mike’s estate, both to protect me from harm and to ensure no one else dared claim me. As we entered the grand gates, laughter echoed from within the manor. I froze, recognizing the voices coming from Mike’s mother’s chambers. “Jade’s such a plain, cheap-looking thing,” sneered Mike’s mother. “She was lucky to marry Mike. Dariya, on the other hand, is a delicate flower, pure and slender. She’s exactly the kind of Luna this family deserves.” My fists clenched as I pushed the door open. The room fell silent as every pair of eyes turned to me. The family was gathered in celebration, their faces alight with glee. At the sight of me, Mike’s mother’s expression darkened. “Why are you back already?” she snapped. “Dariya and Mike’s wedding is imminent. Shouldn’t you be out praying? What are you praying for anyway? That you’ll magically become thinner?” Mike’s aunt, Sara, chimed in with a smirk. “Jade, Dariya will soon be the official Luna. You’ll be the second mate. You should show her the respect she deserves.” My gaze shifted to Dariya, who sat sipping tea, a picture of smug elegance. A wave of cold anger surged through me. I had devoted myself to this family for an entire year, caring for Mike’s mother, placating Sara, and managing the household. Yet all it took was Dariya’s waifish appearance for them to discard me like yesterday’s scraps. I didn’t reply immediately. Instead, I picked up a bottle of the exquisite werewolf wine I had once gifted to this ungrateful family. A single drop of this wine cost a fortune in werewolf coins, yet I had never tasted it myself. Now, I poured myself a generous glass and took a slow, deliberate sip. It was indeed excellent wine. The family gawked, stunned by my brazen disregard for their authority. Mike’s face twisted with outrage. “Jade! You’ve been my Luna for a year, and yet you’re always sulking with jealousy. Now, you dare to show disrespect to my family?” Before I could respond, Mike’s mother interjected, her tone sharp. “The estate is strapped for funds at the moment. Use Jade’s dowry to cover the wedding expenses. After all, what’s hers is ours. She’s part of this family now.” My lips curled into a sardonic smile. “Part of this family, you say? Funny, because it feels more like I’ve been your family’s personal bank. But no more.” My voice turned cold as I faced Mike. “I want to break our bond.” The room erupted in shocked gasps. Mike’s face turned an angry shade of red. “You can’t be serious!” “Oh, I’m very serious,” I said, my tone icy. “From this moment forward, not a single werewolf coin of mine will be spent by this family. And the fortune you’ve already squandered? Consider it a debt. If you don’t repay it, I’ll take this to the Council of Elders and charge you with misappropriation of a mate’s wealth.” Mike’s mother began to cough nervously, sending him a frantic look. Dariya’s smirk faltered as she gripped her teacup tightly. For the first time, they realized the tides had turned. I rose to my feet, the room silent in the wake of my declaration. “Enjoy your wedding,” I said with mock sweetness. “But pay for it yourselves. My wealth is no longer yours to abuse.” Chapter

Beta Mike slammed his goblet of moonsteel down, the thunderous crash silencing the grand hall of the Beta estate. His golden eyes blazed with fury, and the faint growl of his wolf rumbled deep within his chest. “Break the bond?” he snarled. “I merely wanted to bring your sister into the den as a mate, not cast you aside! And yet your temper flares like this? Do you still think you’re the sought-after Luna every Alpha dreamed of? With your broad build and tarnished name, if I hadn’t claimed you, what other wolf would have?” Dariya, draped in silken robes dyed in moonlit hues, leaned forward with a simpering smile. “Sister,” she cooed, her voice oozing false sympathy, “are you upset that Mike wants me as his luna? You can’t blame him. Your reputation precedes you in every pack. Remaining as his mate only drags the Beta lineage through the mud. If you’re resentful, perhaps it’s better for everyone if Mike casts you out.” Mike’s lips twisted into a cruel grin, his fangs glinting under the chandelier’s light. “That’s right, Jade. I’ll cast you out today. And don’t think you’ll walk away with your dowry. Every single werewolf coin, every silver-bonded heirloom your family brought to this pack, will remain here. You’ll leave with nothing but disgrace. That’s our law.” The werewolf laws were as unyielding as the full moon. If a mate was cast out under the Seven Grounds of Dismissal, her dowry stayed with the pack. I tilted my head, letting a cold smile curl my lips. “Cast me out? I am known across the territories for my loyalty, generosity, and strength. Tell me, Mike, on what grounds do you plan to justify such a decree?” Dariya’s keen eyes darted to my wrist as I adjusted my sleeve. Her wolf’s instincts caught the faint shimmer of a bonding mark hidden beneath the fabric. She leapt to her feet, pointing with an accusing claw. “She’s marked!” she screeched, her voice echoing off the walls. “Mike, she deceived you! You’ve never claimed her. That mark belongs to another male—she’s a faithless adulteress!” A collective gasp swept through the room. Mike’s face contorted with rage, his claws unsheathing as his wolf surged forward. He lunged at me, his hand raised high to strike. “You treacherous wench! Adulteress!” Before his claws could land, a dark figure stepped from the shadows—a shadow guard, cloaked in the sigil of the Silverfang Alpha. The guard’s glowing eyes held the unmistakable dominance of an Alpha’s decree. Mike froze. He wrenched his arm free, his sneer bitter and venomous. “So this is your lover, huh? Take them both to the river and drown them. You want the bond broken? Over my dead body!” A deep, resonant howl tore through the night, silencing the room. It was a howl that demanded submission. The guards at the gates parted, and the herald strode into the hall, a scroll bound in silver and sealed with the Alpha’s mark clutched in his hands. Mike smirked, leaning back as though victory were assured. “Alpha Jason’s herald? He must be here to commend me for my contributions during the famine relief. Perfect timing. I’ll make my case and restore my honor.” The herald unrolled the decree, his voice booming with authority. “By order of Alpha Jason of the Silverfang Pack: Beta Mike, who sought Jade’s bond under the sacred oath that he would not claim another unless she bore no heirs, has broken his vow. The mate bond is hereby severed. All dowry, including the werewolf coins and silver heirlooms bestowed by Jade’s family, will be returned in full.” The air seemed to crackle with the weight of the decree. Mike’s smirk evaporated, his face pale as his voice stammered, “H-how does Alpha Jason know the details of my household affairs?” The herald’s words sliced through his disbelief. “Furthermore, Beta Mike is charged with misappropriating famine relief funds, using Jade’s dowry to cover his theft. For this crime, he is stripped of his rank, his accolades nullified, and he will endure thirty lashes with the silver whip. The royal decree of his bonds with Jade is nullified, and she is free to claim her rightful place.” The room erupted into chaos. Mike dropped to his knees, his voice trembling as he muttered, “Alpha Jason knows… everything…” Chapter

The entire room fell into stunned silence. They’d rather believe their ears were playing tricks on them than accept the reality—an Alpha had declared a divorced woman as his Luna. To outsiders, my figure was too full, too lush to be considered the ideal beauty. Women like my delicate half-sister, Dariya—so frail they seemed they’d collapse with a strong breeze—were the coveted brides. Mike, however, refused to accept the truth. He believed Jason, the Alpha King, had lost his senses. Clinging to the Royal Herald, Mike shouted his grievances for all to hear: “Jade has defiled herself! She put shame upon me and dared to ask for break of bound! she is no fit Luna! And the culprit is here—this mongrel—punish them both!” The Herald, unimpressed, cast a disapproving glance at Mike before turning to bow respectfully to the Royal Guards flanking me. “Thirty lashes for Mike. You, Alpha Guard, will carry out the punishment immediately.” Without waiting for so much as a rebuttal, the Herald left to deliver the Alpha King’s decree. The Guard wasted no time. His wolves quickly began stripping Mike’s household bare, fulfilling every item on my carefully prepared list. “Luna,” the Guard said, bowing slightly. “We’ve accounted for every asset. The shops, the treasures, the furnishings… all claimed. However, Mike’s debt to you from the last two years is still one million seven hundred thousand Werewolf Crowns in silver. The gifts he sent on your behalf—rare wolf-bone carvings and starstone jewels—have not been fully reimbursed either.” Before his words even finished, the old matron gasped, clutching her chest. “What a curse upon our house! This gold-digging, soulless woman… my son is a Beta! He worked tirelessly during last winter’s famine! How can petty coins outweigh his noble sacrifices?!” I laughed softly. Coins? Oh, how little they knew. Mike’s so-called noble deeds were my plans, my resources, and his “sacrifices” nothing but a facade. As if sensing my thoughts, the Alpha Guard raised the whip. Each lash across Mike’s back was met with a satisfying crack, followed by the sweet scent of his blood. Dariya rushed to Mike’s mother, frantically fanning her, but even in her panic, she turned her venom on me.

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Juliette had always been foolish, trapped in the routine of sewing clothes, her heart lost in the past. Her childhood mate, Liam, repulsed her with his arrogance. On her wedding day, she made a grave mistake, marrying his best friend instead of him. Little did she know, that misguided union would awaken her—stripping away her foolishness. As Liam, the alpha, frantically searched for her, Juliette finally found clarity, discovering her true mate and realizing she was no longer a fool. The river that separated the two packs had always been a quiet reminder of the boundaries they lived by. There was the Serrin River Pack, known for its strength and leadership along the western shore, and the Serin River Pack, its eastern counterpart, known for its tradition and wisdom. The two packs shared so much—practically identical in culture and practices—that even their own people sometimes struggled to tell them apart. The ferry rocked gently on the water, its wooden frame creaking under the weight of its passengers. I huddled in the corner, clutching my small, embroidered bundle of belongings tightly to my chest. I could feel the ferry swaying with each passing wave, but all I could focus on was the harsh reality that awaited me back home. I wasn’t supposed to be here. I was supposed to be with him. As the sun dipped lower, casting a fiery red hue over the waters, I watched the ripples spread like gold dust. It was beautiful—so beautiful that I couldn’t stop myself from pausing. But just as the last bit of sunlight gleamed off the waves, the quiet chatter of the men at the far end of the ferry cut through my reverie. “Alpha still hasn’t taken a mate? He’s killing everyone with his indecisiveness,” one of them laughed, shaking his head. “No, no,” another corrected, “Our alpha has an arranged mate. Rumor has it the wedding’s soon.” A flicker of warmth bloomed in my chest, and my lips curled into a secret smile. It was me they were talking about, and they didn’t even know. It had been arranged when we were children, a promise made when we were barely old enough to understand its weight. Liam and I had grown up together, and as soon as I was old enough to wear lace and learn how to sew, it was decided I would be his mate. He’d always been kind—too kind, really. He gave me flowers, his favorite bites of food, and the best of everything. He cared for me in ways that seemed far beyond friendship. And when he drank that cursed sweet soup, he handed it to me, telling me to drink first, always. I drank it because it was for him. Because he was my Liam. But when the world turned dark, and I woke to the healer’s quiet whispers of “permanent damage,” I didn’t understand the depth of it. I was five. What did I know of forever? The elders, in their guilt, promised that when I turned eighteen, Liam would make me his mate in the full, sacred way. He would claim me, mark me as his, and we would be united. “Wait for me, Juliette. When you’re eighteen, I will make you mine,” he had promised, his hands gripping mine, his eyes filled with unspeakable affection. I waited. But when I was finally old enough—when I had waited long enough to finally say those words to him—I was met with nothing but coldness. Two years ago, I ran to him, so eager to finally share my joy. I was ready. “I can be your mate now, Liam. I’m ready.” He didn’t smile. He didn’t even look at me properly. His gaze was distant, almost disgusted. “You’ve got it wrong, Juliette. You wait for eighteen years, not just a few,” he sneered. His eyes flickered away as if I were a nuisance, not the promise he had made. As the rich, influential guests entered, including his best friend Garrick, Liam barely spared me a glance. “Liam, I envy you. Your betrothed is so quiet and refined, so well-matched.” I sat in the courtyard on a stone, trying to breathe through the pain that gripped my chest. I had loved him for so long. And yet, as the years went by, I wondered if I had been wrong. But it didn’t matter. I wasn’t angry. Not yet. There was still time. So I would wait. Even if it took another eighteen years.

The ferry swayed violently against the rising tide, the scent of saltwater mingling with the damp earth beneath my feet. My heart hammered in my chest as I clutched my embroidered bundle, my fingers trembling with each shift of the boat. As the boat drifted closer to shore, wedding music drifted through the air, full of joy and celebration. This is where I belong, I whispered to myself. This is where I belong. The ferry bumped against the dock with a low groan, balloons soaring into the air . The scene before me was beautiful—too beautiful. But then, my gaze shifted to the far end of the ferry, where a bride sat hunched in sorrow, her face hidden behind a veil. I approached her quietly, whispering, “Sister, why do you cry on such a joyous day?” The bride wiped her eyes, but didn’t respond. Her shoulders shook as she wept, her sobs muffled by the veil. I reached into my bundle, pulling out a small doll. “Here,” I said softly, offering it to her. “Take this. Don’t cry anymore.” But instead of calming, the bride’s sobs deepened. She looked up at me, her eyes wild with desperation. “I don’t want to marry him!” she cried. My breath caught. “What do you mean?” I asked, my voice tight with confusion. She gasped, struggling to speak through her tears. “I’m not his true mate. Alpha ‘s real mate ran away. The clan leader forced me to take her place.” My stomach dropped. “No… That’s not true! Alpha is mine! He’s always been mine!” The bride blinked, her tears halting. Her gaze softened. “Then… you’re the one he’s meant to be with?” I nodded, a fire igniting within me. “I’ve been promised to him since we were children. I’m going to find him. No one can take my place.” Her face broke into a bittersweet smile. “Go. You must go. Don’t let anyone stand in your way.” Days later, the ferry finally reached the shore. And there, standing tall and proud, was Alpha —his scent thick in the air, rich with the power of his Alpha aura. My heart raced, beating in time with the rush of emotions that flooded me. As I stepped off the ferry, my veil fluttered in the wind, and I saw him. Taller now, his muscles rippling beneath his clothes, his eyes locked on me. His gaze was fierce, and a growl rumbled low in his throat. A growl rumbled in his throat, low and guttural. “My Alpha!” I called out. But before he could speak, a voice shouted from behind us. “Alpha! The outcasts are at the border! They’re trying to cross into our territory!” “Stay here,” he ordered, his voice rough with authority. “Don’t move. Go to the pack house. Lock the doors.” “But Alpha—” I protested, vailing under the vail. His gaze softened just a moment, but the urgency was undeniable. “I’ll return soon. I promise you that.” I watched him turn, his powerful strides taking him toward the pack’s heart. The Alpha was needed. His pack needed him. And I… I was left standing at the edge of his world, powerless. I whispered to the empty night, my voice carrying on the wind, “I’ll wait for you, Liam. I’ll always wait.” The hours stretched endlessly, the moon rising high in the sky, its silver light casting shadows across the land. Still no sign of him. His Beta sent word that Alpha was still engaged in the fight. My heart clenched. The pack was under siege, and there was nothing I could do to help. Alone in the small room, I stared at the firelight flickering and the chest of old clothes. My fingers traced the worn fabric—garments that had once been full of his strength, now faded, their seams frayed. I had to do something. I couldn’t be the helpless mate, waiting forever. He needed me. I would show him I was more than just a promise. I would be his Luna, in every sense of the word. I took a needle and thread, beginning to mend his clothes. Each stitch was a vow to him—quiet, but powerful. I will stand beside you, Liam. Always. The needle pressed through the fabric until the sky began to lighten, and I finally drifted into sleep, clutching the mended clothes. In the haze between dreams and wakefulness, I felt him—sitting beside me, his gaze burning through the quiet darkness. He moved quietly, tucking the blanket around my shoulders with care, brushing my hair gently, a touch that said more than words ever could. I heard the creak of the door as he stepped out, his boots barely making a sound. His voice, commanding yet soft, reached me from the hallway. “Grandmother arrives tomorrow. Remember her temper. Keep things smooth, for her sake.” I closed my eyes, feeling the ache of him already gone. My heart pounded. Every moment he was away, the pack was at risk. The rogue wolves—always circling, waiting for weakness. I wanted him beside me, to not leave, even if just for a moment. But the pack needed him. He was Alpha.

Liam’s claws dug into the wooden armrest, his chest tightening with every passing moment. His eyes never lifted from the papers scattered before him. His mind, however, was elsewhere. “Elena,” Liam growled, his voice low and dangerous. His gaze remained fixed on the reports in front of him as he heard her hurried footsteps approach. She came closer, but hesitated just at the door, taking a moment to gather her breath before entering. “Liam, Juliette… she’s—” Elena’s voice cracked, her words trembling. “What now?” he barked, the words sharp, dripping with impatience. “Another dress? Did she make some new foollish designs and expect me to praise her for it?” “No, alpha Liam,” Elena hesitated, finally stepping forward. “It’s… Juliette’s not at dinner..” Liam’s jaw clenched. Not at dinner? “She’s been missing since this morning. We’ve looked everywhere, but she’s—” Elena’s words faltered, her voice softening with a hint of unease. “Liam, she’missing. ” He stood abruptly, knocking his chair back as he glared at her. “If she wanted to skip dinner, fine. Let her. If she’s throwing some tantrum, let her starve.” Elena backed away, fear flickering in her eyes, but Liam wasn’t finished. “She’s probably just sulking. And if she is, she’ll learn her lesson.” As the evening dragged on, Liam couldn’t help but glance toward the door, expecting to see her there. Dinner came and went, but her seat remained empty. The smell of roast meat filled the air, but the weight of her absence crushed every bite. Liam’s hands clenched into fists beneath the table, his wolf pacing restlessly within him. Every time he glanced over at her chair, a sharp pang of longing struck him. After the meal, the sound of the wind howling outside seemed to punctuate the emptiness that had settled over the room. It was only after the last plate was cleared that the thought hit him like a thunderclap. She’s not coming back tonight. Where is she? He rose from the table, walking toward the window. The wind shook the panes, and in the pale light of the moon, Liam could make out his dresses swaying in the breeze, each one hanging like a silent, waiting ghost. Each one was stitched by her hand. Juliette’s work. His breath quickened as memories flooded him—the last time she’d been in danger, the last time he’d been too late to protect her. That human… The trafficker. Two years ago. He had barely arrived in time to stop the bastard from taking her, and yet… he’d failed her. “You’re not smart enough for this world, Juliette. How could you be so foolish?” “He… he told me he had the latest fabric,” Juliette whispered between sobs, her voice breaking on every word, “He said it was the finest cloth—something you’d love. I thought I could use it… to make you something new. Something special.” “Does it hurt?” he whispered, a distant echo of the moment when he’d seen her hands bleeding, the needle stuck deep in her skin. “No,” she’d said, smiling through the pain. “It doesn’t hurt, Liam. Wait until you see the dress I’ve made for you.” He growled under his breath. Liam’s dreams were plagued by Juliette. Every night, her face—tear-streaked, fading into shadows—haunted him. He woke with a jolt, heart racing. The moonlight spilled across the room, but it was too cold. “Alpha! Alpha!” a servant’s voice snapped him from his thoughts. Liam’s heart thudded. “Is she back?Tell him I won’t blame her, tell her I have chosen the date,” “No… Alpha, it’s the rings your booked for Garrick for his wedding gifts. They’ve arrived.” Liam’s chest tightened. He took the box, hands trembling. Inside, two rings—silver and jade, intricate, symbolic of bond and loyalty.

Juliette’s pov Liam’s absence dragged on, each day more unbearable than the last. I knew, as long as the Outcast was still on the border, he would not return. I sat near the window, stitching winter clothes for Liam, trying to focus on the rhythm of the needle. But Violet, the servant who usually styled my hair, broke the silence with a teasing smile. “Yesterday, the Alpha kept staring at the clothes you mended, but he refused to wear them,” she said, a playful lilt in her voice. Maybe he doesn’t like the style. “Go buy more fabric—something for Liam’s winter clothes.” Violet left, but as she did, I overheard the murmurs from outside. “She’s already thinking of special fabric, just days after marrying him. What’s next? Gold?” The voice was sharp and accusing. I leaned out to see who was speaking, only to find an old lady standing in the courtyard, her gaze cutting through the air. “Already scheming for better clothes?” she sneered, eyes narrowing as she took in my unfinished work. I stepped forward, meeting her gaze with as much grace as I could muster. “I am making clothes for the alpha,” I said, swallowing my nerves. Her eyes flicked to the half-cut fabric, and for a brief moment, something like approval flashed in her sharp features. “Making his clothes yourself, huh?” she muttered, her tone softening ever so slightly. “I suppose there’s some honor in that.” But then her expression turned calculating, the matriarch in her reasserting itself. “But clothes won’t solve anything here, child. You need more than fabric to survive in this pack.” She left. I swallowed the lump in my throat, but before I could respond, the door creaked open. Another servant, Grace, entered with two unfamiliar women carrying a heavy chest between them. “This is from some locals,” Grace said, her eyes darting nervously toward me. “They heard you were in need of fabric.” The chest was opened, revealing bundles of luxurious cloth, sparkling jewels, and a thick stack of notes. But something didn’t sit right. One of the women stepped forward, her smile too sweet, her eyes too calculating. She leaned in closer, her voice low but dripping with malice. “I’ve heard alpha… well, some say he has enemies in the pack. You could help us with that, right?” I froze, my breath catching in my throat. I glanced at Grace, who looked away uncomfortably. Liam had always forbidden me to get involved in the pack’s politics, telling me it was dangerous. But now, as his mate, how could I not? His enemies would target him. … Garrick had been so busy these past few days that he hadn’t had the chance to return home. His main worry wasn’t the weight of pack matters, but whether his grandmother approved of his new Luna. However, the servants’ whispers told a different story—despite her sharp tongue, the matriarch seemed oddly satisfied with his wife. The first day his grandmother arrived, she disembarked from her ship with a stormy expression. “I never liked that scheming Alice,” she declared. “You should’ve sent her packing ages ago.” By the fourth day, Garrick heard that his wife had been visiting his grandmother’s quarters daily, chattering endlessly. “Your mate is like a sparrow,” his grandmother complained through a messenger. “Chirping on and on until my head spins. I have no patience for her.” On the fifth day, the tone of her message changed. “…She’s got a knack for handiwork,” was all she said. By the sixth day, there was no message at all. Suspicious, Garrick sent someone to inquire. His grandmother dismissed the servant with a cryptic reply. “What’s between me and your Luna is none of your business, boy. Stop sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.” Garrick allowed himself a rare chuckle, feeling a weight lift from his chest as the matriarch seemed to have found some grudging respect for his wife. But the relief was short-lived. His desk was piled high with unopened messages, one of which caught his eye—a message from his old friend, Alpha Liam, sent over a month ago. He opened his phone and read it during a rare quiet moment at his meal. “Brother Garrick, what would you do if you were forced to marry someone you did not love—a dull, unworthy mate—bound only by an unbreakable childhood pact? What course would you take against such a wind?” Garrick frowned as he stared at the message. Before he could form a response, the door to his dining hall swung open with a soft creak.

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###My fiancée and her co-star shared a passionate kiss on stage during their play. The audience was moved, swept up in the romance of the characters. But I knew—there was no such scene in the script. For a brief moment, guilt flickered across her face, but she quickly defended herself: “It’s just acting! What, am I never supposed to take on romantic roles again?” I didn’t respond with a dramatic argument or accusations. Instead, I handed the bouquet of hybrid roses I’d specially bred for her… to one of the extras. Without another word, I turned and walked out of their cast party. Once outside, I called my mentor. “Professor, I’ve decided. I’ll take the offer to go grow roses out west.” I was at home filling out application forms when my phone suddenly rang. Without thinking, I reached for it and answered. On the other end, there was no greeting—just the sound of chaotic chatter, as if the phone’s owner hadn’t realized they’d accidentally dialed me. “Dorothy, it’s your turn!” someone called out. Hearing the familiar name, my hand froze over the hang-up button. “If you could go back, would you still choose to date your current boyfriend?” I already knew what her answer would be, but when I heard her say it aloud, it still felt like a knife twisting in my chest. Laughter erupted in the background. “Exactly! I mean, what’s so great about Brian anyway? He’s just some guy who grows flowers.” “That whole flower thing is so lame. His taste is awful.” “Roses? Every time? Seriously? Could he be any more basic?” I let out a bitter laugh. So this is what they thought of the roses I carefully bred by hand. Roses that, once upon a time, were Dorothy’s favorite flower. Yet, not once did she speak up for me. Not a single word in my defense. Dorothy and I had met in college. She’d been standing in front of my research project display for ages, trying and failing to get the perfect photo. I happened to walk by to check on the exhibit and offered to help her. One thing led to another, and before long, we were dating. Because she loved roses, I even based my graduate research project around them. But back then, I didn’t know she was still holding on to an impossible love—her so-called “one that got away.” The chaotic conversation on the other end of the line continued. No one seemed to notice that the call was still active. Someone joked, asking Mason if he’d crash the wedding if his partner ever got married. Mason’s calm voice replied, “No, I wouldn’t.” The room on the other end fell silent, the sudden awkwardness palpable even through the phone. Someone quickly tried to lighten the mood. “Come on, it’s just a game! Don’t take it seriously. Let’s drink!” I couldn’t help but wonder what Dorothy’s expression looked like in that moment. Probably drowning her feelings in alcohol, pretending everything was fine. Funny how, when you’re not loved, we all end up looking equally pathetic. The phone call abruptly ended as someone finally noticed the accidental dial. I put my phone down in silence. By the time I finished my work, the clock read 11 PM. Turning off the last light in the living room, I headed to bed. I’ve always been a light sleeper—any bit of light keeps me awake. But no matter how late Dorothy comes home, she always leaves a lamp on in the living room. Soon, I’ll be heading out west. She might as well start getting used to the dark. Like many nights before, Dorothy didn’t come home. She stumbled through the door mid-morning, still glued to her phone, and without looking up, called out: “I’m starving.” I didn’t even glance at her, still focused on my work. “Then order takeout. I’m busy.” She frowned, putting her phone down and stepping in front of my computer. The smell of alcohol hit me immediately. “Brian, can you not?” she said, annoyed. “We were acting. What’s the big deal about a kiss when you’re in character?” She crossed her arms, her tone defensive. “Do you even know how many people bought tickets just to see Mason and me perform? Our chemistry is what sells!” I nodded lightly, my eyes drifting to the computer screen behind her. “You’re right. You acted beautifully.” She mistook my calmness for anger and grew more impatient. “Brian, seriously. You can’t expect me to stop taking romantic roles just because I’m with you.” When I didn’t respond, she turned around, intending to shut my laptop. But her hand froze when she saw the words on the screen: Wedding Plans. It was supposed to be our wedding. Yet from start to finish, she hadn’t been involved at all—not even in picking out her dress. I’d handled everything, only to realize I was the only one looking forward to it. For a split second, guilt flickered across her face. When she spoke again, her voice was softer. “I’ve just been so busy with rehearsals lately. Once this is over, I’ll make it up to you, okay?” Busy. Too busy to come home, but not too busy to stay out drinking all night with her friends. Was she underestimating how much I noticed… or just didn’t care? But I didn’t want to argue anymore. I simply nodded and said, “Alright.”

Maybe it was guilt, or something else entirely, but Dorothy actually stayed home all day and cooked an entire meal from scratch. During dinner, my advisor sent me a message. I meant to type a reply, but I accidentally hit the audio playback button instead. “Brian, your application has been approved. You’re all set to leave on the 11th.” Dorothy’s ears caught the key detail immediately. “What application? Are you transferring somewhere?” I calmly explained, “No, it’s just a favor for a coworker. I submitted the application for them, but I guess my advisor thought it was mine.” I casually replied to the message with a quick “Got it.” Dorothy, seemingly satisfied, picked up some food and placed it in my bowl. “Oh, that’s too bad. Your coworker won’t be able to come to our wedding then. Make sure to send them some of the party favors later,” she said with a hint of regret. I laughed to myself, bitterly. Not only would my coworker miss the wedding—I wouldn’t be attending it either. The next morning, Dorothy woke up bright and early, fully dressed and made-up, and dragged me out of bed. Groggy, I glanced at the calendar, trying to remember if today was some special occasion. She tapped my head with her makeup brush, rolling her eyes. “Are you serious? You forgot we’re taking our wedding photos today?” Wedding photos. Right. I’d almost forgotten. Months ago, I’d planned to surprise her by booking a session at the city’s most sought-after studio—six months in advance, no less. But when she found out, she’d scolded me for being wasteful. “Why would you book something so useless? What a waste of money,” she’d snapped. I remember blaming myself for not understanding what she wanted. Then one day, while cleaning, I found a stack of photos tucked behind her awards—pictures of her and Mason in various poses, dressed in coordinated outfits. Turns out, she wasn’t against taking photos. She just didn’t want to take them with me. Since the studio had a no-cancellation policy, the whole thing was left unresolved, and honestly, I’d nearly forgotten about it. On the way to the shoot, Dorothy hesitated before speaking up. “Mason wants to be one of the groomsmen for our wedding.” I let out a dry laugh. So this photoshoot was just her way of buttering me up to agree. I shrugged. “Sure, whatever you want.” A smile spread across her face, and she continued, “He’s my partner, so his groomsman suit shouldn’t be like the others.” “It also can’t be cheap. It should match the quality of your suit, at least.” She might as well have just asked me to hand over my suit and let Mason wear it himself. I nodded. “Alright, I’ll get him a suit.” When we arrived at the studio, she got a phone call. Her expression darkened as she stared at her screen. I asked, “What’s wrong?” She quickly hid her phone behind her back and snapped, “Can you stop being so possessive? I can’t even talk to my friends without you overreacting?” She waved me off. “Go get dressed. I’ll join you in a bit.” But when everything was ready—my suit, the set, the photographer—Dorothy was nowhere to be found. Her phone went unanswered. The staff stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do. The photographer, clearly a little nervous, cautiously asked, “So… should we start?” I stayed calm, as if I’d seen this coming. After all, her phone screen before she left had been open to a chat with Mason. “Yeah,” I said evenly. “Might as well. It’d be a shame to waste such a beautiful backdrop.” After all, I’d be leaving this city soon. These photos would be my last keepsake. When it was time to leave, I discovered Dorothy had taken the car. Stranded at the remote location, I ended up hitching a ride with the equipment truck. Squeezed between piles of lighting gear, I must’ve looked pretty pathetic. Still, I was grateful they gave me a lift. Without them, who knows how long I’d have been stuck out there. Back home, I reached out to the editor working on our wedding video. “Hi, sorry for the trouble, but there’s been a change. The couple in the wedding video has… shifted. I’ll need you to re-edit it.” Then I sent over a folder with several gigabytes of photos and videos. It wasn’t long before the editor replied, almost excitedly: “Oh, now this is a real couple! The chemistry is undeniable!” “The last two people looked like they hated each other. Every photo had this huge emotional gap between them—it was impossible to edit!” Even a stranger could tell who Dorothy was closest to. How could she not?

It wasn’t until the afternoon that Dorothy finally texted me an explanation: “Mason’s sick, and we have a show coming up. I can’t just leave him hanging.” It was a sloppy lie. Just a few hours earlier, I’d seen Mason’s Instagram story: “Helping a friend escape her controlling boyfriend,” accompanied by a picture of two hands making peace signs. “Just reschedule the photoshoot,” Dorothy added. “We’ll redo it later.” No. There’s no need to reschedule. There’s no need for a wedding at all. But I still replied politely: “Got it. Take care and focus on rehearsals.” I could see the “typing” indicator linger for a long time, as if she hadn’t expected me to be so calm. Finally, she sent a short response: “You too.” For the next few days, Dorothy didn’t contact me. Instead, her social media updates became more frequent—a steady stream of posts about rehearsals, low-calorie meals to stay in shape, and other curated snippets of her life. It felt deliberate, as if she wanted to make sure I saw everything. I obliged, liking every single post. Meanwhile, I stayed busy. I sorted through years of accumulated belongings, donating anything unnecessary. In the greenhouse, the roses I’d cultivated were in full bloom. I cut every last one, bundling them into two bouquets. Then, I headed to my advisor’s office. “Professor, thank you for everything these past few years. Please, take these.” My professor looked surprised. “I remember when you first planted these roses,” he said. “You told me you’d save them for someone important.” A sharp pang hit my chest, but I forced a smile. “Well, you are important to me.” We both knew it was a lie, but neither of us said anything more. My professor looked down at the vibrant roses. “They’re stunning. My wife will love them.” After saying goodbye, I went to the orphanage where I’d grown up and gave the other bouquet to the director. The children were playing outside, their laughter filling the air. As we sat in the garden, I told the director that I’d be heading out west soon to grow roses. She didn’t get a chance to respond before the kids swarmed her, reaching for the flowers. “They’re so pretty!” “Wow, these are amazing!” She smiled and began handing out the roses, one by one. A brave little boy looked up at me and asked, “Can you really grow roses in the desert?” I grinned mischievously. “Of course I can. Just wait and see.” “Whoa, that’s so cool!” When I left the orphanage, my phone was flooded with missed calls. I finally answered one, only to be met with an angry tirade: “Brian, you’re still Dorothy’s fiancé! It’s her 100th show, and you couldn’t even bother to show up? And don’t even get me started on your stupid roses—you couldn’t spare even one for her?!” “Marrying someone like you is the worst thing that could ever happen to her!” The same people who mocked me for giving Dorothy roses were now upset that I didn’t. I held the phone away from my ear, letting them rant until they ran out of steam. “I forgot,” I said flatly. “I’ll Venmo you some money. Buy whatever you want.” I opened the app, found their profile, and sent over a generous amount. Without waiting for a response, I hung up. They were probably already celebrating, even though tomorrow was supposed to be our wedding. As I finished packing my bags, ready to leave, Dorothy stormed through the door. Her face was cold and unreadable as she shoved past me, heading straight for the bedroom. I knew this routine. She wanted to start a silent war. In the past, I’d always been the one to break first, finding ways to win her back. And she’d always used that to her advantage—secure in the knowledge that I cared too much to let her go. But now? I was exhausted. The taxi was already waiting downstairs. As I walked out with my suitcase, I spotted Mason leaning casually against a car. He gave me a smug smile. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll take care of your bride tonight. I’ll return her to you tomorrow.” His words dripped with mockery, but I didn’t care anymore. I gave him a glance before getting into the taxi. As the car pulled away, I sent Dorothy one last text: “Congratulations on your wedding.” Congratulations to you and Mason.

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My boyfriend was hospitalized, so I spent the afternoon making chicken soup and rushed to the hospital to see him. But as I approached his room, I overheard his conversation with a friend: “Your first love is back. Isn’t it time to let that three-year stand-in of yours step aside?” “I mean, now that you’re done with her, let me have a turn. I’ve never been with a woman like her before.” I waited, expecting him to shut his friend down. But instead, Brandon’s voice was calm, almost amused. “Sure, why not? She’s easy enough. Just say a few sweet things, and she’ll jump into bed with you.” That night, while the untouched soup sat cold on my kitchen counter, I found his secret Twitter account. It was filled with years of posts obsessing over his first love, detailing how he had never really gotten over her. I didn’t confront him. I didn’t demand answers. Instead, I quietly booked a one-way ticket to Sea City. On the day of our three-year anniversary, Brandon slipped on the office stairs and sprained his ankle. When I got the call, I rushed to the hospital. He explained that he had been hurrying to the restaurant, worried I’d been waiting too long, and missed a step. I took a few days off work to stay by his side and care for him. On the day he was discharged, some of his friends stopped by to visit. Feeling reassured that he wasn’t alone, I decided to head home and make him some soup. With a warm thermos of freshly made chicken soup in hand, I carefully timed my return to the hospital. The door to his room was slightly ajar, and as I got closer, I overheard voices inside. Brandon’s best friend was laughing, clapping him on the shoulder. “So Aurora’s back, huh? You didn’t have to be that excited about it. Rushing to the airport to pick her up and then falling down the stairs? Classic.” Hearing the name Aurora made my heart skip a beat. Aurora was part of Brandon’s tight-knit college friend group—three guys and one girl. She also happened to be his first love. They dated for two years in college before breaking up when she moved abroad. Even though they ended things, everyone in their circle always talked about how they were “meant to be.” Sometimes, Brandon’s friends would even tease him about it in front of me. In their minds, if Aurora hadn’t left, I wouldn’t even be in the picture. Brandon used to shut them down whenever they brought it up. But this time, maybe because I wasn’t there, he stayed silent. Dylan, his friend, grinned mischievously. “So, your first love is back. When are you planning to kick the stand-in to the curb?” “And hey, once you’re done with her, can I have a turn? I’ve never dated someone like her before.” At this, Brandon finally looked up. He frowned and gave Dylan a light shove. “Chill out,” he said. “Aurora hasn’t said anything yet. Besides, I’m still recovering. I need her to take care of me for now.” My ears were ringing. The world around me seemed to blur as shock gave way to numbness. Dylan didn’t seem to notice. He peeled an orange—one of the ones I had brought earlier—and smirked. “She looks so sweet and innocent, but you’ve told me how wild she is in bed. I’m curious about the contrast.” I clutched the warm thermos in my hands, but the warmth did nothing to stop the icy chill spreading through my chest. I never imagined that the man I loved for three years would talk about me like this behind my back. Brandon’s voice came through the door, cold and detached: “Go ahead if you want. She’s desperate for love—easy to get. I barely had to try to get her into bed.” My chest tightened, the pain sharp enough to take my breath away. Inside the room, they both started laughing, low and cruel. The sound made me feel physically sick. I ran to the bathroom, clutching my mouth, and dry-heaved over the sink. Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. So this was what I meant to him. Just a stand-in for his first love, someone he didn’t even respect. I used to think he just didn’t love me as much as I loved him. But now I realized it wasn’t just indifference—it was outright contempt. To him, I wasn’t even a person. I was nothing more than a placeholder, no different from trash on the side of the road. Looking back, it all made sense. His friends had always joked about him and other women, even in front of me, without a care. They treated me like a maid whenever they came over, barking orders while I cooked and cleaned. And why wouldn’t they? Brandon had never stood up for me. Their disrespect was just a reflection of his own. All the “kindness” he showed me was nothing more than an act. I wiped my tears, walked back to the kitchen, and dumped the chicken soup—two hours of effort—straight into the trash. For the first time, breaking up with him felt like the clearest decision I’d ever made. When I walked back into the hospital room, my emotions were firmly under control. Brandon’s face immediately darkened when he saw I’d come back empty-handed. “I thought you said you were making soup for me,” he snapped. “Why are you here with nothing?” Dylan chimed in, clearly enjoying the drama. “Yeah, Stella, Brandon was just telling me how thoughtful you are. Where’s the soup?” His smirk widened as he added, “You know, Stella, there might not be many more chances for you to cook for him. Better make the most of it while you can.” I instinctively glanced at Brandon, half-expecting him to shut Dylan up. But he didn’t. He just sat there, silent, his expression unreadable. Maybe now that Aurora was back, he no longer felt the need to pretend. Or maybe he thought letting Dylan taunt me was a fitting punishment for not bringing the soup. Either way, it didn’t matter anymore.

I stood there silently, my eyes locked on Brandon. This was the man I had loved for three years. I used to think, even if Brandon didn’t love me enough, it would be okay as long as I loved him. Maybe, one day, he’d be touched by my devotion. But now, it felt like the universe was laughing at my naivety. “The soup didn’t turn out great,” I said with a smile, my voice steady. “I already drank it.” I grabbed my lightest bag and walked out of the hospital room first. “Come on, hurry up and pack. Let’s go home,” I added without looking back. I wasn’t going to carry all his stuff like a personal servant anymore. That’s how it always used to be—I’d take care of everything while he walked free-handed. The car ride home was tense. Brandon was clearly upset with me, but I didn’t have the energy to soothe his ego. I needed time to process my own emotions. When we got back to the apartment, one of Brandon’s other friends, Sean, showed up holding a cat. He waltzed in like he owned the place, a smug grin plastered on his face. I froze in the doorway, immediately backing away and covering my nose. “Brandon, didn’t you tell them I’m allergic to cats?” I asked sharply, staring at the fluffy ragdoll cat in Sean’s arms. When I was a kid, a neighbor’s cat had triggered such a severe allergic reaction that I ended up in the hospital for a week. Sean rolled his eyes before Brandon could respond. “Geez, you’re so dramatic,” he said with a smirk. “This is Aurora’s cat. She brought it all the way from abroad—it cost a fortune. I had to beg her just to let me play with it for a few days.” He snorted and added, “Claire, don’t be so difficult.” Brandon, clearly annoyed with me, finally spoke. His expression was cold, his tone sharp. “It’s just a cat. What’s the big deal? You’re not going to die.” His frustration had been simmering all evening, and now, in front of his friend, he let it spill over. Grabbing the cat from Sean, he walked toward me, holding it out like some kind of punishment. “Grow up, Claire. It’s just a little fur. What are you so scared of?” Brandon knew full well how severe my allergies were, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to prove a point, to humiliate me in front of his friend. As I backed away, he kept advancing. The cat let out a sharp yowl, clearly uncomfortable with how tightly he was gripping it, and suddenly, it leapt out of his hands—straight at me. I tried to dodge, but its claws raked across my neck, and I inhaled a mouthful of cat hair. Within seconds, my throat began to close up. My chest tightened, my heart pounded, and cold sweat broke out all over my body. “C-call an ambulance,” I gasped, struggling to breathe. Brandon just scoffed, arms crossed. “Stop faking it, Claire,” he said, his voice dripping with disdain. It was Sean who finally noticed how pale I’d become. “Dude, she’s not faking!” Sean said, panic creeping into his voice. “We need to call 911, now!” By the time they finally decided to act, I had collapsed onto the floor, barely conscious. The last thing I saw before everything went dark was Brandon’s panicked face as he and Sean scrambled to call for help. When I woke up, I was alone in a dark hospital room. Because of their so-called “joke,” I had nearly gone into anaphylactic shock and had to be rushed to the hospital. Now, there wasn’t a single person by my side. A nurse came in, turning on the light and quietly changing out my IV. “You have a severe allergy to cat hair,” she said gently. “You can’t afford to be around cats again.” I gave her a weak smile and asked, “Do you know when the people who brought me here left?” She frowned, clearly hesitant to answer. “You mean those three guys?” she finally said. “They left as soon as we told them you were stable.” Her brows furrowed in disbelief. “Honestly, I thought they were just strangers. They didn’t seem very concerned.” I forced out a bitter laugh. “One of them is my boyfriend,” I said quietly. “Though not for much longer.” I picked up my phone and saw a message from Brandon. “We’re heading out for dinner. If you’re fine, just get a ride home.” Twenty minutes ago, Dylan had posted a photo on Instagram. “Reunion with old friends. Feels so good!” The picture showed the four of them—Brandon, Dylan, Sean, and Aurora. In the photo, Brandon was gazing at Aurora with unmistakable tenderness. His eyes held a warmth and longing that he’d never once shown me. They looked like a couple in love, completely absorbed in each other. Staring at that picture, I couldn’t hold back my tears any longer. My chest ached so deeply it felt like I couldn’t breathe. It was time to face reality. Brandon had never truly loved me. Aurora was the one he wanted. She had always been the one. And now that she was back, I was nothing but a placeholder, someone to fill the void until she returned. To him, I had no value beyond that.

It hit me suddenly—Brandon was always typing away on his Twitter app, yet I’d never seen him post anything. A knot of unease twisted in my stomach as a thought surfaced. I began digging through his social media, searching for answers. His own Twitter account was blank, but in his “Following” list, I found an account named  Miss U, Aurora. My hands trembled as I clicked on it. The IP address matched his. The account had been active for six years, with thousands of posts. It felt like I had just opened Pandora’s box. What I found inside left me speechless. Every single post was about Aurora. The words overflowed with obsession, longing, and a love so painfully raw it was almost suffocating. The account began as a diary of their relationship but later turned into a public shrine to his unending devotion to her. “November 9, 2021: I got into a relationship with someone else. I won’t wait for you anymore.” That was the day Brandon finally agreed to date me. I had no idea how many times I’d confessed my feelings to him before he reluctantly said yes. Now I understood why. That was the day Aurora left for Europe. “March 10, 2022: I slept with someone else. What choice do I have when you’re dating someone new?” I remembered that night vividly. Brandon had shown up at my apartment drunk, begging me not to leave, whispering sweet nothings until I gave in. “May 16, 2023: Are you really never coming back? I hate you—I’ll never forgive you!” That was the night he put a diamond ring on my finger. He’d held me so tightly and promised, with a look of tenderness in his eyes: “Claire, I’ll marry you.” My breathing grew shaky, and I couldn’t bring myself to read any further. I scrolled to the most recent post, the one he had written just a few days ago: “I’ve lost to you again. After all these years, I still can’t let you go. I’ll love you forever.” Attached was a photo of him and Aurora, holding hands and smiling. Tears slipped down my face, blurring the screen. I felt like I had been ripped apart, betrayed in the cruelest way imaginable. For three years, I had poured my heart into a relationship that was never mine to begin with. Brandon’s love had always belonged to Aurora. Even after she left him, even after she abandoned him for years, he continued to cherish her. He would have done anything to win her back. And me? I was nothing. My hands shook as the truth settled in. No wonder Brandon never fought with me—he never cared enough to. No wonder he never noticed when I was upset—I was never important to him. No wonder he had been so distracted that he fell down the stairs. It wasn’t because he was rushing to meet me—it was because Aurora’s sudden return had completely consumed him. I forced myself to stay calm as I took screenshots of everything, saving every post as evidence. At least now I knew the truth. If I hadn’t overheard him that day, if I hadn’t stumbled upon his secret Twitter account, I might have spent my entire life believing his lies. I might have kept fooling myself into thinking he had let go of his first love. But now, I was done. I had seen the kind of man Brandon truly was. Beneath his polished, charming exterior was a selfish, deceitful heart. There was no reason to stay in this relationship any longer. As I sat there, my phone buzzed with a call from my boss. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to sound normal as I answered. “Claire, there’s an opportunity to transfer to the Sea City branch,” my boss began. “It’s a director-level role, and I think you’d be perfect for it. The position doesn’t come around often. What do you think?” I hesitated. This wasn’t the first time I’d been offered a chance to advance my career. Last year, I had turned down a dream opportunity in France because I wanted to stay in Riverdale and build a life with Brandon. But now? Now there was no reason to hold myself back. “Thank you for the opportunity,” I said firmly. “I’d love to take the job in Sea City.” For the first time in months, I felt a sense of clarity. The pain in my chest was unbearable, but my brain was screaming at me to save myself. After hanging up, I immediately booked a flight to Sea City for a few days later. When I was discharged from the hospital, I went straight home to pack. I didn’t bother trying to find Brandon. He was probably with Aurora anyway. The next day, as I sat in the back of a cab on the way to the airport, I saw Brandon’s secret Twitter account had been updated again. “Seeing her again, I couldn’t hold back.” The attached photo was another picture of him and Aurora, their fingers intertwined. I stared at it for a moment before scrolling past, my heart aching but my resolve unshaken. A text message from Brandon popped up on my phone: “You were discharged yesterday? Where are you? Why isn’t your stuff here?” I ignored it. He called me over and over, but I declined every single call. Then, just before my flight, a call came in from an unfamiliar number. I answered, and Brandon’s panicked voice shot through the line: “Claire, where are you? When did you come home? What’s going on?” I let out a quiet laugh, the sound bitter and devoid of warmth. “Brandon,” I said calmly, “I know Aurora’s back.” “She’s the one you’ve always loved, isn’t she?” I could almost feel his silence on the other end of the line. “Now that your first love has returned,” I continued, my voice steady, “it’s time for the stand-in to step aside.” The flight attendant’s announcement chimed in the background, signaling takeoff. “Claire, what are you talking about? Where are you?” Brandon demanded, his voice rising in frustration.

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It was my first day at the new job, and of course, they assigned me a night shift right away. I had always worked at public hospitals, but a few weeks ago, I got an offer from a private one. The salary was hard to resist, and in the end, I couldn’t say no. I decided to make the switch. At this new hospital, my salary had increased several times over, and the work was a bit easier, too. I’d been married for almost two years, and with a less stressful, higher-paying job, I thought it would be easier for us to start trying for a baby. I couldn’t help but laugh when I thought about how Nathaniel, my husband, spent his time watching videos of cute little kids all day. He loved kids, so I figured having one wouldn’t be so bad. Even though his financial situation wasn’t exactly great, my income made up for that. In a marriage, there was no need to worry about who earned more. We both contributed what we could. If one of us made less, the other just picked up more of the household duties. I had always been pretty laid-back about it. Once I finished my night shift, I planned to tell Nathaniel the good news. I was sure he’d be over the moon. By midnight, I was getting a bit sleepy, but I grabbed my chart and went to start my rounds. When I reached the door of one of the private rooms, I heard some strange noises coming from inside. I shook my head, feeling a bit exasperated, and decided to skip that room, thinking I’d check it later. But just as I turned to walk away, I heard voices. “You need to get your health back on track if you want to get pregnant soon!” The voice made me stop dead in my tracks. It was Nathaniel’s voice. His voice was rough, and there weren’t many people who sounded like him, so I recognized it immediately. “Come on, let me rest for a couple of days, and I’ll make sure we have that healthy baby of yours soon enough!” A sweet, almost sickly voice followed, and I knew right away it was a woman’s voice. “Besides, you’re still married. Me getting pregnant right now would be… a bit complicated, don’t you think? Who would want to have a baby with no proper standing?” she added. That was all I needed to hear. This woman was definitely a mistress. At that moment, I wasn’t thinking about finishing my rounds anymore. I just wanted to barge in and see if Nathaniel was really in there. If it was him, well, things were about to get very interesting. But instead of pushing the door open, I went straight to the nurse’s station, pulled up the surveillance footage, and checked the hallway. As expected, earlier that day, Nathaniel had walked in carrying a basket of fruit, and he hadn’t come out since. That was all I needed to know. I had been completely betrayed. I never expected that changing hospitals would lead to something like this. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I walked past the room, finished my rounds, and returned to the office. I sat down, feeling dizzy and confused. Nathaniel and I hadn’t known each other long, but we’d always gotten along well. When I was busy at the hospital, he took care of everything at home. I never had to worry about a thing. Up until now, I had thought we were perfect for each other—he was an amazing husband, and I couldn’t imagine him cheating. I never even considered the possibility of falling for anyone else. But now, everything felt like a cruel joke. We met at the hospital when he came in for his regular check-up, and I had just finished a surgery when we bumped into each other in the hallway. It was love at first sight. Who would have thought that this wonderful guy, the husband I always bragged about, could actually cheat? I felt numb. Exhaustion hit me hard, and before I realized it, I fell asleep. The next morning, my colleague came in for the handover, and I automatically asked about the patient in bed 305. “Oh, you mean Isabelle Lane? She lost her baby because of being too active during her pregnancy. We found out she’s had lost a few babies. After the D&C, her chances of getting pregnant again are practically zero,” my colleague said. My heart sank when I heard that. She had lost a few babies? Could it be that all of them were Nathaniel’s? I couldn’t shake the thought as I went to finish my last round for the day. When I entered room 305, Isabelle seemed shocked at first. But she quickly masked her expression and gave me a mocking look. “Dr. Hale, you look so exhausted. Didn’t get enough sleep last night?” I didn’t feel like answering, so I stayed silent. There was no rule that said I had to respond to every patient’s questions. Isabelle stared at me for a moment before deliberately saying, “A woman as beautiful as you, your husband must adore you, right?” I didn’t react, but I could tell by the way she spoke that she knew exactly who I was. Otherwise, how would she have known so much and why was she showing me such obvious hostility? “Why are you so quiet? I really like you. You’re so pretty. If I were your husband, I’d never cheat on you. You’d be the luckiest woman in the world.” I wasn’t affected by her words. They were clearly meant to provoke me. Had I not known the truth, I might have laughed it off. But after everything I’d learned, I just felt disgusted. “After losing a baby, you need to rest. Losing a few babies can cause infertility. Women need to take better care of themselves,” I said coldly and then turned and walked away. I didn’t know whose children Isabelle had lost, and I couldn’t expect Nathaniel to come clean at the hospital. When I finished my rounds and was about to leave, I was about to open the door when I bumped into Nathaniel himself. He was holding a glass container with some cut-up fruit in it. He looked worn out, like he hadn’t slept well. We stood there in front of room 305, and I could see the panic in his eyes the moment he saw me. “How did you end up here?” I frowned as I asked, closing the door to Room 305 behind me. No matter what, I didn’t want Isabelle to see me as a joke. When Nathaniel heard my question, a look of unease crossed his face. “I’m just visiting a friend,” he said, forcing a smile as he explained. I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly, “Visiting a friend, huh? Do you really need to bring cut fruit for that? Is she a friend or your girlfriend?” It struck me as ridiculous. Even though I thought Nathaniel loved me, he had never once taken the time to cut fruit for me. Yet, this other woman was treated entirely differently. How was I supposed to feel at ease about that? Nathaniel, clearly irritated by my words, shot me a frustrated glance. “What are you implying? Do you think I’m lying to you? I’m just visiting a friend. It’s not something I want to make public, so I didn’t mention it to you.” He looked at me, visibly agitated, shaking his head in disbelief. “If you really think I’d cheat on you, then I don’t even know what to say!” With that, he didn’t stick around any longer. He turned and stormed off, looking like he was hurt and offended. I felt confused. It was almost as if he was embarrassed about being caught and was now angry because of it. That evening, Nathaniel didn’t come home, probably wanting to avoid me for a while. I couldn’t be bothered to engage with him. At that point, all I could feel was a deep sense of frustration. I had enough evidence now to prove he was cheating, and while I was ready to divorce him, I wasn’t sure I could let go of the years we’d spent together. After thinking it over, I decided not to make a move just yet. I would give him one more chance. If he could come to his senses, maybe I could pretend none of this ever happened. The next day at work, Nathaniel even brought me lunch. I didn’t make it easy for him—gave him no acknowledgment at all—but he still kept at it for days, bringing me lunch and chatting briefly before leaving to “go back to work”. But the security footage told a different story. He wasn’t going back to work. He was meeting up with Isabelle again. Initially, I wanted to forgive him, to give him that chance. But now, after everything, I was just beyond done with him. Every time I went to check on patients, I had to see Isabelle’s smug face. She would taunt me with little remarks. “Dr. Hale, do you want some of this? It’s the fruit my man personally cut for me!” “Dr. Hale, how about some fresh juice? My man went out and bought it just for me!” I knew she was doing this on purpose, trying to get under my skin. But I wasn’t about to waste my time on her. If they kept this up, though, I would have no choice but to file for divorce. Just as I was mulling over these thoughts, I saw Nathaniel walk in carrying the lunch he’d made for me. When he saw me, his expression immediately soured. He quickly recovered, offering an explanation. “I brought you lunch. I heard you were doing rounds, so I thought I’d drop by.” His words were so forced, I couldn’t even stand to hear them. “Really? You think I could eat while I’m doing rounds? Or were you planning to give this lunch to that ‘friend’ of yours who’s just lost her baby?” Nathaniel shot me a look of irritation. “Enough with this personal stuff! Don’t drag other people into it. You’ve gone too far.” I was done with him. It was clear his heart wasn’t with me anymore—everything he did now was just to please Isabelle. “Do whatever you want. I don’t care anymore.” I gathered my paperwork and turned to leave, but Nathaniel stepped in front of me, his face full of frustration. “Apologize.” I was stunned. I had no idea what he was talking about. “Apologize? For what?” I couldn’t believe he was demanding an apology. Was he asking me to apologize to that woman? Nathaniel looked at me with disgust, clearly angry. “What you said was uncalled for. You need to apologize to Isabelle. We’re just friends, okay? I came here to check on her as a friend, and you humiliated her. Don’t you think that’s ridiculous?” For a moment, I almost thought maybe I had misunderstood things. If I hadn’t caught them in the act that night, I might have believed him. “Oh, please, don’t make her apologize. I’m fine! It’s just a misunderstanding, really,” Isabelle chimed in with her sugary tone, pretending to brush it off. I was so disgusted by her words, but I didn’t want to get caught up in any more drama. I turned to leave without saying another word. Nathaniel didn’t stop me. It seemed like he knew there was no point in arguing further—it was better to spend time with his little girlfriend than waste it on me. Back in my office, I accessed the hospital’s system and pulled up Isabelle’s records. I was shocked to find out that Nathaniel and Isabelle were both from the same small town. Under her occupation, it said, “Unemployed.” It seemed she was just another unemployed person from a small town. As I thought about it, my stomach churned. This private hospital was known for catering to wealthy clients, and I highly doubted someone without a job could afford to stay there. The truth hit me hard—Nathaniel was the one footing the bill for her stay. The idea of him spending our shared money on this woman made my blood boil. His affair had crossed a line, and I wasn’t going to put up with it. Divorce was already on my mind. Nathaniel’s financial situation was nothing compared to mine. The house and the car—both mine. But since all of this was acquired after we got married, it was considered marital property. I wasn’t going to let him walk away with what was rightfully mine. So, I contacted a private investigator. Even though I knew he was cheating, I didn’t have concrete proof. Once I had the evidence, I would have enough to prove he was cheating and make sure he left with nothing. When I finished everything, I realized it was time for my rounds. I hurriedly grabbed the patient files and went from room to room. By the time I reached Isabelle’s room, I was a minute late. As soon as I pushed the door open, I saw Isabelle’s smug expression. She glanced at me coldly and then shook the timer in her hand. “Dr. Hale, you’re late,” Isabelle said, her voice dripping with smugness as she put her phone down and leaned back against the wall. “I was timing you. Didn’t expect to witness your tardiness.” I ignored her and quickly finished my checkup before turning to leave. Talking to that woman was a waste of time. I couldn’t stand seeing her act so self-important. As soon as I finished my rounds and was about to sit down to write my notes, I got a call from the hospital director, asking me to come to his office. When I arrived, I found the director looking less than pleased. “Dr. Hale, I know you’re passionate about your work, but you really need to be more mindful of your timing. We had a complaint from a patient about you being late for your rounds. We’ve always been very strict about these things to ensure the best experience for our patients,” he said, glancing at me. “Why don’t you take a few days off? Once this patient is discharged, you can return to work.” I didn’t argue. I just nodded and left. The director probably sensed my mood and wisely chose not to push the matter further. As I was leaving his office, I heard shouting coming from Isabelle’s room. “Dr. Hale is so unprofessional! Doesn’t even care about the patients. Can anyone just be a doctor these days? She can’t even keep her scheduled rounds, and she’s late by a whole minute. Doesn’t she have any respect for us patients?”

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My husband, Adrian, locked me—a pregnant woman—in a mental hospital because his beloved needed test subjects for her drug research. Electric shocks left me trembling and drooling, my body convulsing uncontrollably. Adrian, standing nearby, shielded her eyes, his voice filled with gentle disgust. “Don’t look.” Her experiment earned her a nomination for an award, and Adrian celebrated by lighting up the entire city with fireworks in her honor. Meanwhile, on that cold winter night, under the glow of the fireworks, I gave birth to a deformed baby boy. He cried once before falling silent forever. I cradled his tiny, lifeless body and, with frozen hands and a hollow heart, placed him into the freezer. Seven days later, as Adrian attends an award ceremony to honor his beloved, I will present him with the ultimate gift. With red, swollen eyes, I begged the nurse to help me with this. As a mother herself, the nurse hesitated when she saw me holding my stillborn baby and sobbing uncontrollably, but eventually, she agreed. She was just about to leave, holding the freezer, when she almost bumped into my husband, Adrian Reed. The smell from the freezer made Adrian instinctively cover his nose. He watched the nurse walk away, and only after she was far enough did he lower his hand. But nothing seemed to ruin Adrian’s good mood. He looked like someone who had just returned from a victorious battle. His voice was light, almost as if talking to himself. “Liliana’s experiment was a huge success. She’s finally realized her dream.” But ever since he walked in, he didn’t look at me. His gaze was fixed on the dazzling night sky outside the window. It wasn’t until he noticed my silence that he finally glanced at me, his expression cold, his brow furrowing slightly. “Liliana asked you for this little favor when she came back. You’re pregnant, and you don’t have much to do anyway. Just come out and make some friends. Help her with something important. Don’t make that face.” Make friends? The man who came into my room to harass me. The woman who strangled me, accusing me of stealing her money. The woman who kicked me to the ground, claiming I had stolen her child. That was what Adrian called “making friends.” Liliana Hart had fed me so many pills, and when the baby was born, it was deformed. The doctor had said that if I’d gone for a check-up earlier, things might’ve been different. But I had no freedom. How could I have gone for a check-up? Seeing me with red eyes, still refusing to look at him, Adrian leaned in, his voice sharp. “Daphne…” He got halfway through my name before his attention was diverted by the buzzing phone in his pocket. The moonlight shone through the window, casting a soft glow on his face. It was a look of… happiness. Adrian stayed in the room for over twenty minutes and didn’t even notice my deflated belly. Just as I was about to fall asleep from exhaustion, Liliana’s assistant brought in today’s medication. Thinking about the child I had just delivered—a twisted, half-human, half-ghost—I threw the pills to the floor. Adrian by the window blinked in surprise and then quickly stepped forward, crouching down to gather the pills, and pressing them toward my mouth. His cold, detached voice slid into my ears. “This is part of Liliana’s experiment. If you don’t take it, how is she supposed to finish her report?” I turned my head away, tears streaming, but he grabbed my chin, forcing the pills down my throat. Adrian seemed ready to say something else, but when his phone buzzed again, he glanced at it, then turned, and left without even grabbing his coat. I had a pretty good idea of why he was leaving. I opened Instagram and saw a post from Liliana, her nose stuffed with tissues, looking playful but cute. Liliana: [Watched fireworks all night, but came home with a cold. Took an extra cold pill—hope I’m not gonna die from it, lol.] The comments were flooded with Adrian’s overly concerned messages. Adrian: [You’re sick? Why didn’t you tell me?] Adrian: [You’re such a disaster. Go get checked at the hospital. I’ll come to you.]

That night, Adrian didn’t come back. After midnight, I silently wished myself a happy birthday. I remembered the days before they locked me up in the mental hospital, when Adrian had taken me for my first prenatal check-up. The doctor had calculated the due date, and Adrian was so excited. “Maybe the baby will be born on your birthday. We’ll throw a huge celebration.” But that was before. Now, Adrian had set off fireworks across the city to celebrate a pointless nomination for Liliana. As dawn broke, the nurse brought me a small cake. “I remember you said today was your birthday, but…” She hesitated, glancing at me and then at the empty space where my baby should’ve been. Still, she lit the candles. I appreciated her kindness during these inhuman days. I closed my eyes, made a wish, and just as I was about to blow out the candles, a figure appeared at the door. Adrian stood there, his eyes scanning the scene. His brow furrowed for a moment, as if something had just occurred to him. “Oh, today’s your birthday.” He fumbled in his coat pocket, almost as if he was looking for a gift. But when he pulled his hand out, all he had was a pink lace thong. He awkwardly shoved it back into his pocket, mumbling, “Maybe someone’s playing a prank on me. I’ll get you something better later.” I blew out the candles, not even thinking before I answered. “No need.” The moment the words left my mouth, Adrian’s face darkened. He shoved his hands in his pockets, impatience flashing across his features. “You’re really throwing a tantrum over a gift? I paid for your mother’s treatment when she was sick. And now you’re pouting over a stupid birthday? Isn’t that a bit much?” I bit my lip, silently listening. Because he was right—he had saved my mother’s life. What I owed him felt like it would never be repaid. The nurse, who had been sitting by the bed, couldn’t take it anymore and stood to leave, accidentally bumping into Adrian’s shoulder as she passed. He stumbled, his expression darkening, and his chest rising and falling dramatically. He shot me a reproachful glance before turning to leave but bumped into Liliana, who had just entered wearing a lab coat. Underneath, she was wearing a barely-there lace skirt. Adrian’s anger seemed to vanish instantly. He hurried forward, his voice softening. “I told you to rest at home. Why are you here?” Liliana sneezed and then waved her hand dismissively. “Yesterday, you took off your clothes to warm me up. I’m feeling much better now.” Liliana quickly realized there were other people in the room and pulled back her flirtatious gaze, offering me a tight smile. “I’m here because there’s an important experiment we need to do, and I need Daphne’s cooperation.” My heart skipped a beat. I looked at Adrian with pleading eyes, silently begging him to refuse. But he just smiled at Liliana, his voice casual as he replied, “It’s fine. She’s not doing anything anyway.” At that moment, the knife I had been dreading finally fell. Liliana smiled and then added, “This one might hurt a bit more, but you’ve handled it before, so I’m sure you can manage.” A cold sense of dread crept through me.

Adrian poured a hefty sum into setting up Liliana’s lab. He allowed Liliana to test her drugs on real people and even supported her using those questionable electroshock treatments. Every single time, Adrian was the one cleaning up the mess. And he seemed to enjoy it. But I never thought that one day, Adrian would let Liliana do this to me. I didn’t fight back fiercely, because I owed him too much. But once the experiment was over, I figured it was time to settle my debts. Liliana’s slap shattered the silence, and a group of doctors filed into the room, carrying various tools. Once the equipment was in place, Liliana suddenly leaned against Adrian’s shoulder, looking up at him with a pout. “Adrian, I’m suddenly scared.” Adrian seemed to flinch, his eyes softening with concern as he gently covered her eyes. “We’ll leave for now, and let them bring the data to us later.” In the room, I lay there, staring blankly at the ceiling, my hands and feet bound, as the doctors went to work. The light blurred, and my consciousness began to fade. As the voltage increased, my body went numb, but my mind remained somewhat alert, occasionally snapping back into clarity. Through a haze, I heard chaos breaking out around me, the sounds of scrambling, of equipment rattling. “Tch, what’s wrong with you? You can’t even control the voltage?” Then came the spasms, and I barely heard the frantic shout. “Hurry. We need to get her to emergency! There might still be time!” I didn’t struggle. It felt like I’d been knocked unconscious. When I opened my eyes again, I was in a new, unfamiliar room. Before I could say anything, a sweet voice chimed in from nearby. “You’ve really been through a lot, Daphne. Here’s a little something for your trouble.” Liliana flashed me a sugary smile and pulled out a bill, setting it down on my pillow. She turned around, just in time to meet Adrian, and immediately dropped the sinister expression, lowering her head with a frown. “It’s all my fault. I’m so sorry, Daphne. I didn’t mean for you to pass out. I’ve already apologized to you.” Adrian barely glanced at me before affectionately ruffling Liliana’s hair. “You didn’t mean it. No need to apologize.” But then he paused for a moment, as if struck by a thought. He walked over to my bedside. “The doctor said you lost the baby. Why didn’t you tell me when you were pregnant?” I stayed silent. He had been busy watching fireworks with Liliana, and no matter how many messages I sent him, none of them were ever answered. Before the nurse could explain, I stopped her with a raised hand and turned to Adrian. “The baby’s health was weak, so it’s been in an incubator.” I quickly added, “It was a boy.” Adrian lowered his head, lost in thought for a moment. A slight smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he nodded in approval. “It’s good that you gave birth. You’ve been through so much, so tonight, I’ll take you to a restaurant to celebrate.” Without waiting for my consent, Adrian pulled me to a clothing store and bought me a dress. As he helped me zip it up, his hands paused when he saw all the bruises and marks on my exposed skin. But he didn’t say anything. At the dinner table, Adrian’s attention never strayed from his phone. He even disappeared to the restroom for more than twenty minutes. When he returned, he only remembered to call for the menu. And when the waiter arrived, Adrian just pointed absentmindedly at random. The waiter was completely confused, as Adrian had only pointed at drinks. I sighed and took the menu from his hands, ordering the food myself. After a while, as soon as the dishes were served, Adrian suddenly stood up and grabbed his coat. “Liliana’s been harassed at a party. I have to go.”

Just as Adrian was about to leave, he hesitated and then spoke with an indifferent tone, “You should come with me. There aren’t many cars available this time of night.” The whole way there, Adrian was too preoccupied with his phone to talk to me, glancing at it every few moments like he was waiting for some important message. We arrived in a rush at the location Liliana had sent, and the atmosphere in the private room was lively. As soon as Liliana saw me, her smile faded, but she quickly adjusted, lowering her head with a guilty expression. “I didn’t know you were with Daphne. I only called you because I lost a game of Truth or Dare.” Adrian burst into the room, still catching his breath, but he didn’t seem angry. “It’s nothing. Just having dinner with her. Not a big deal.” As soon as those words left his mouth, every pair of eyes in the room turned to me. I stared down at my hands, my fingers gripping tightly, hoping to put an end to this scene. “There’s nothing wrong. I’ll leave.” But as I turned to leave, Liliana suddenly called out to me. “Daphne, my experiment’s not finished. You can’t go home yet. You’ll need to stay in the hospital a little longer.” At that moment, I heard someone’s mocking voice from the crowd. “So she’s Liliana’s experiment? No wonder she’s covered in scars.” Another voice chimed in. “Scars are normal, but wearing such revealing clothes? That’s not right. It’s so ugly.” I turned my back, biting my lip, trying my best not to cry. Adrian, though, seemed to have heard nothing, still defending Liliana. “Liliana’s right. You can’t leave. Stay here at the hospital for now.” I gritted my teeth and held it in, but before I could reach the door, I received a call from the hospital. “Ma’am, your mother’s condition is critical. If you can, you should come and say goodbye.” My mind went blank in an instant. Just as I was about to rush out, I was blocked by a few bulky bodyguards. I struggled, but couldn’t break free, looking back at Adrian, my eyes pleading. His face, however, was filled with displeasure. “Liliana’s experiment has come this far, and you want to ruin it at the last minute?” Seeing that I was silent, Adrian made his decision. “You have to stay at the mental hospital tonight.” At that moment, I couldn’t take it anymore. I rushed to explain. “My mother’s dying! I need to see her one last time!” Adrian was momentarily moved, but Liliana tugged at his sleeve, giving him a pitiful look. Adrian immediately shifted his tone, his voice sharp. “Your mother has a doctor taking care of her. What’s the point of you going? Liliana’s been nominated for an award, and it’s going to be presented in a few days. You can’t stand her winning, can you?” My throat tightened, my blood running cold, but Adrian’s impatience was palpable as he waved his hand. The bodyguards grabbed me, dragging me out and swiftly tossing me into a car sent by the mental hospital. It was a long, torturous ride. I was locked back into a cold, dark room. And soon after, I received the dreaded news from the hospital… At that moment, countless images swirled in my mind, like falling into a frozen abyss. The next few days, Liliana continued her torment, and I became a hollow shell, no longer resisting. On the final day, Adrian attended the award ceremony with Liliana, the flashing lights blinding. And I regained my freedom. I picked up the plane ticket the nurse had bought for me, carrying the heavy urn, my body battered, and returned to my hometown. As soon as I landed, my phone was flooded with missed calls. All from Adrian. After a moment’s thought, I responded with one message: [Let’s get a divorce.] Then I blocked him and disappeared into the bustling crowd. Back in the shabby neighborhood, I sighed with relief. I’d just started packing when the nurse called me again. “News channels are going crazy…”

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## It was a stormy night when my boyfriend called, his voice filled with urgency. “I’ve been in a car accident. It’s bad. Guess how long it’ll take you to get here?” Panicked, I bolted into the pouring rain, my heart racing as I imagined the worst. By the time I arrived, drenched and gasping for breath, the sight that greeted me wasn’t a wrecked car or an injured man. Instead, my ever-practical, romance-challenged boyfriend was wheeling out a massive cake, the centerpiece of a surprise party for Sarah, his assistant. “Luna, it’s my fault,” Sarah said timidly, stepping forward as if to shield him. “I made a bet with Mr. Sterling, and things got out of hand. If you’re upset, you can take it out on me.” Her voice was soft, apologetic, but it was the glint on her wrist that caught my eye—a diamond bracelet identical to the one he had given me. I turned to him, only to meet his cold, indifferent gaze. His brows furrowed in irritation as he said, “It was just a joke. Why are you acting like this? Who are you trying to impress?” The tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Everyone seemed to expect me to explode, to throw a jealous tantrum befitting the “overly possessive girlfriend.” But instead, I smiled, calm and composed. Reaching for Sarah’s hand, I placed it gently in his palm, my voice light and steady. “As long as you two are happy, that’s all that matters.”

“Mr. Sterling lost the bet! The punishment is to pick someone here to drink a cross-arm toast with!” “Come on, Mr. Sterling hasn’t even said who he’s picking, and look—our birthday girl is already blushing! Be a gentleman, Mr. Sterling, make your move!” Hearing that Noah Sterling had been in a car accident, I sped through the pouring rain, my heart pounding as I pushed my car to dangerous speeds. But when I arrived, drenched and disheveled, I was greeted by laughter, bright decorations, and a massive banner reading, “Happy Forever 18th, Sarah!” The man I’d been so worried about, the one I thought might be injured—or worse—stood in the center of it all, perfectly unharmed. Dressed in an immaculate suit and holding a wine glass, he walked toward Sarah with a charming smile. Sarah’s cheeks flushed as their eyes met. Their arms linked together, and they were just about to drink the cross-arm toast when someone spotted me. “Oh my god, Luna!” The room fell silent, and all eyes turned to me. Noah paused mid-motion, his brows furrowing as he turned to the door. His gaze landed on me—soaking wet, pale, with mud splattered across my face and clothes. Before he could say anything, Sarah clung to his shirt like a frightened rabbit, her wide-eyed expression making it seem like I was some vengeful ghost. Noah gently patted her shoulder, his voice soft and reassuring. “It’s fine—it’s just Luna.” Then, his expression shifted, irritation flashing in his eyes as he looked at me. His voice carried a cold edge. “It was just a joke. Why did you make such a spectacle of yourself? Go home. Stop embarrassing me.” I glanced down at myself, taking in the torn, muddy clothes, the blood seeping from scratches on my knees and hands, and my tangled, rain-soaked hair. Yes, I’d embarrassed him. Before I could respond, Sarah stepped forward with a sweet smile, her voice soft and kind. “Luna, I didn’t know you’d come! It’s my birthday, and Mr. Sterling got me the biggest cake! Would you like some? I’ll cut you a piece.” She reached out as if to take my hand but stopped just before touching me. Her expression shifted, and she covered her mouth dramatically, gagging. After a few exaggerated dry heaves, Sarah looked up at me with an apologetic smile. “Oh, Luna, you smell awful. You should clean yourself up. Mr. Sterling and I both have a bit of a germ thing, you know? And this venue—it cost thousands to book. Please don’t get it dirty.” She grabbed a packet of wet wipes, tossing it at me with a loud smack against my face before it fell to the ground. My cheek stung, but I didn’t react. I saw the challenge in her eyes, the smugness she didn’t bother to hide. I glanced around the room. The decorations alone must have cost at least $10,000. In the seven years I’d been with Noah, he’d never spent more than $3,000 on me in total. Even on my birthdays, the cakes he bought were tiny, four-inch specials on sale. “Luna,” he’d always said, “you’re not a little girl anymore. You don’t need all those flashy things.” Back then, I’d thought he just didn’t understand women. Now, I realized he’d simply never cared enough to bother. The room remained silent, everyone watching to see what I’d do. I bent down to pick up the wet wipes, then cleaned my hands methodically. Without a word, I walked toward the towering cake. Everyone stared, confused about my intentions. I grabbed the knife, cut a small slice, and took a bite. The frosting was sweet, almost cloying, masking the bitterness rising in my throat. I smiled and nodded. “The cake’s good. Sarah, happy birthday.” Then, placing the plate down, I took Sarah’s hand and pressed it into Noah’s palm. “Go on. Continue your game. You two enjoy yourselves.” Sarah’s smile froze, her eyes wide with shock. The room buzzed with whispers, but Noah’s expression darkened instantly. He wrenched his hand away from mine, his voice cold and threatening. “Luna, are you trying to test my patience?” Normally, his anger would have made me panic, would have driven me to apologize and beg for forgiveness. But tonight, I simply smiled. “What’s wrong, Noah? Can’t take a joke?” His eyes narrowed, ice seeping into his gaze. Before he could speak, Sarah stepped in, her small frame shielding him as she pleaded. “Mr. Sterling, it’s my fault! Luna’s mad because of the bet we made. Please don’t blame her.” She turned to me, her voice trembling as tears welled in her eyes. “Luna, I didn’t think you’d believe it without checking first! You could’ve called to confirm. I’m so sorry. If you’re upset, take it out on me. You can hit me if it’ll make you feel better.” She raised her arm, her expression one of exaggerated fear. But as she moved, the bracelet on her wrist caught the light—an unmistakable sparkle. It was the diamond bracelet Noah had given me when we first started dating, the most expensive gift he’d ever given me. I’d never worn it, keeping it tucked away like a treasure. Sarah noticed my gaze and quickly stepped back, clutching the bracelet nervously. “I’m sorry, Luna. I just mentioned once how much I loved your bracelet, and Mr. Sterling gave it to me. I’ll return it right away.” She fumbled with the clasp, pretending to struggle before the bracelet fell to the ground. Diamonds scattered across the floor like broken glass. “Oh no!” Sarah gasped, biting her lip, her eyes brimming with tears. “Mr. Sterling, I’m so clumsy. I broke it!” Noah hesitated, glancing at me. His silence spoke volumes—he didn’t know how to defend her without making things worse. The room was suffocatingly quiet. I bent down, picking up the broken bracelet. My voice was calm, almost detached. “It’s fine. I didn’t want it anymore anyway.” Without hesitation, I tossed it into the trash can. The clinking sound echoed in the silent room. Noah’s face darkened further, his anger barely restrained. Sarah glanced at him, then fell to her knees in front of me, tears streaming down her face. “I’m so sorry, Luna! It’s all my fault! Please don’t take it out on Mr. Sterling. He doesn’t understand these things—he’s a man!” Her sobs grew louder as she continued, “I shouldn’t have let him throw me this party. I didn’t realize it would upset you so much.” She bowed her head dramatically, as though preparing to beg for forgiveness, but before she could, Noah moved swiftly, pulling her to her feet. “Why are you apologizing to her?” he snapped. “It’s her fault for ruining the night!” Noah shot me a cold glare. “You can’t even take a harmless joke? And now you’re bullying a sweet girl like Sarah?” His voice turned sharper, dripping with disdain. “Luna, are you just waiting for me to actually get into a car accident and die so you can finally be happy?” I stared at him, barely recognizing the man in front of me. He looked so unfamiliar, so distant, it was almost frightening. It was him who lied about a car accident. Him who ignored my frantic calls. Him who took the bracelet he had given me—the one I had cherished—and gave it to Sarah. I had risked everything to get to him tonight, speeding through dangerous rain-soaked roads with my heart in my throat, terrified for his life. My tires had nearly skidded off the road. And for what? To be met with his accusations, his scorn, and his indifference? In the past, I might have cried. I might have let the tears fall while pleading, trying desperately to make him see how much I cared—how much I was hurting. But now, I felt nothing but exhaustion. Taking a deep breath, I nodded. “You’re right. I overreacted. You all enjoy yourselves.” With that, I turned and walked away. As I reached the door, I heard someone hesitantly suggest, “Mr. Sterling, maybe you should go after Luna? She didn’t look… well.” Noah scoffed dismissively, his tone annoyed. “You don’t know Luna. She’s just playing the victim again. Don’t waste your time.” He raised his glass. “It’s Sarah’s birthday tonight. No one’s leaving until we’ve all had our fill!” Cheers erupted behind me, growing louder as I stepped outside. The storm hadn’t let up. Rain poured relentlessly, soaking me to the bone as I trudged back to my car. By the time I climbed into the driver’s seat, my teeth were chattering despite the heater running full blast. My hands trembled, and before I could stop them, tears spilled down my cheeks. But I knew those tears weren’t for Noah. They were for the version of myself who had once loved him so foolishly, so desperately, for so many years. I had loved Noah for seventeen years. From the shy crush I carried in middle school, to the unwavering devotion that lasted through college and beyond. Even his mother had been moved by my persistence, going out of her way to encourage our relationship. That’s how I finally became his girlfriend. Noah had always been distant, his affection lukewarm at best, but I clung to the small moments. I convinced myself that he cared, that deep down, he loved me too. Why? Because he had once said, “Love is about two people living a steady life together, growing old side by side.” I believed him. I gave up a prestigious opportunity to study abroad, choosing instead to stay by his side. I became the woman who took care of him, who managed his meals, his schedules, his life. I told myself I was protecting our relationship. Even when my professor urged me not to waste my potential, I just smiled awkwardly and nodded, feeling guilty for letting her down. “You’re better than this,” she’d said. “Your peers—people who were once your juniors—are now running their own companies or earning doctorates overseas. You should think about what you’re giving up.” But I stayed. For him. Then Sarah joined his company as an assistant. Noah, who had always been so serious, so indifferent, suddenly smiled when her name came up. Even when I told him their closeness made me uncomfortable, he didn’t care. He chose her feelings over mine, every single time. By the time I got home, the rain had stopped. Sitting in the quiet of my apartment, I picked up my phone and dialed my professor. “Professor Carter,” I said, my voice steady. “Are there any opportunities left for me to study abroad?” Her reply came almost immediately. “Luna, I’ve been waiting for this call! I’m leading a research team overseas next week for a three-year program. If you’re interested, you’re more than welcome to join.” My chest tightened, but not with hesitation—with relief. “I’d love to. Thank you.” The next week would give me enough time to close this chapter of my life, to say goodbye to everything that had been holding me back.

I returned home, showered, and was just about to change into my pajamas when Noah suddenly pushed open the bedroom door. For a moment, my instincts told me to turn my back and tell him to leave, but then I stopped myself. What’s the point? He’d seen everything before. So, I calmly slipped on my pajamas and turned around to face him. That’s when I noticed he was holding a glass of milk, which he placed on the nightstand. He looked tired, his expression worn. “Sarah’s birthday party is over,” he said, pausing for a moment before sighing. “You really overreacted tonight.” He hesitated, then added, “After you left, I saw your missed calls. I’ll admit… that was my mistake.” I cut him off, my tone light. “It’s fine. It’s all in the past. As long as you had fun.” Noah froze, his brows furrowed as he stared at me, as though trying to figure out what I was thinking. I smiled slightly. “Is the milk for me?” He nodded. “Thanks.” Still feeling thirsty after my shower, I picked up the glass and downed it in one go. Noah’s gaze shifted, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “You’re… not mad?” “Mad about what?” I replied, genuinely confused. His expression twisted slightly, as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. I yawned, covering my mouth. “Anything else? I’m tired. I’ll sleep in the guest room tonight.” Noah stared at me in disbelief, his tone turning sharp. “If you’re upset, just say it.” “I’m not upset,” I said, meeting his eyes with sincerity. Noah’s patience snapped. He grabbed my arm, his grip firm. “You are upset. Stop pretending.” Unfortunately for him, his fingers pressed right into a tender spot where I’d scraped my arm earlier. The pain made me flinch, and I instinctively pushed his hand away. His hand froze in midair, and for a moment, he just stood there, staring at me. Then, without a word, he abruptly stood up, glaring at me with a stormy expression. I ignored him, pulling the blanket over myself and lying down as though he wasn’t even there. He lingered by the bed for a while, his presence heavy and suffocating. Finally, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him. I knew exactly why he was angry. In Noah’s mind, he’d already extended an olive branch. He expected me to accept it, to “come down” from my imaginary pedestal. But this time, I had no intention of playing along. I slept soundly and didn’t wake up until noon the next day. As I made my way downstairs, Noah approached me, holding a pale yellow dress with the tag still attached. “I noticed your clothes were torn when you came to find me last night. I went out this morning and bought this for you,” he said. “Do you like it?” I glanced at the dress and shook my head politely. “Thanks, but I don’t need it. I have plenty of clothes.” “Try it on,” he insisted, holding the dress up against me. “I even prepared a surprise for you.” As he pressed the dress against me, I felt something small and box-shaped in one of the pockets. Suspicion flickered in my mind, but I didn’t bother to ask. “Just put it aside for now,” I said, brushing past him. “I’m hungry.” Noah stood there, stunned, watching as I walked toward the dining room. He clearly thought that a simple dress would make me light up with excitement, that I’d rush to try it on and post a photo online to show off how much he “cared.” Too bad for him—he was wrong. When I reached the dining table, I noticed takeout containers neatly arranged. Noah must have picked them up earlier. That was new. “Thanks for the food,” I said, sitting down to eat without hesitation. Noah followed me to the table and sat across from me, his gaze fixed on me in silence. I glanced up after a few bites. “What is it?” “Nothing,” he said, shaking his head, though his eyes seemed to hold something unspoken. I ignored him and continued eating, but his stare was impossible to ignore. After a few minutes, I sighed and looked up again. “Why don’t you eat something? The food’s pretty good today.” Noah didn’t move. Instead, his expression darkened slightly. “Aren’t you going to ask about the surprise I mentioned?” I blinked, genuinely surprised. “I figured you’d just show me when you were ready.” His face stiffened, and without another word, he pulled a small, elegant box out of his pocket and opened it. Inside was a diamond bracelet, sparkling under the light. “This is a new design. It’s more expensive than your old one. Consider it yours.” I pushed the box back toward him. “Return it.” Noah’s expression froze. “Things like this are just overpriced luxuries,” I said casually. “You work hard for your money. Don’t waste it.” For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. But I noticed his fists clenching tightly, his knuckles turning white as he struggled to contain his anger. Finally, he spat out through gritted teeth, “Unbelievable.” With that, he stood up abruptly, storming out and slamming the door behind him. I glanced at the table. The food he’d brought remained untouched. The dress and bracelet were tossed carelessly onto the couch, forgotten. Noah didn’t contact me for the rest of the day. He didn’t come home that night, either.

The next day, I finalized my paperwork with my professor. In just two days, I’d be leaving the country. When I returned home to pack, I was surprised to find the house filled with people. The chatter and laughter were almost overwhelming. “Sarah, that dress with the diamond bracelet? You look like a movie star!” “Come on, tell us—who’s the lucky guy who bought it? Is he handsome?” Sarah twirled around in the living room like a butterfly, soaking up the attention as she flaunted her outfit. A small crowd had gathered around her, teasing and admiring her. “Well, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Sarah said with a coy smile. “It’s actually from my boyfriend.” As she spoke, she cast a deliberate glance at Noah, who was sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone, pretending not to hear. Seeing that Noah didn’t react, Sarah’s smile grew even brighter. She continued bragging, her voice dripping with pride. “At first, I didn’t even want it. But my boyfriend insisted! He said a woman’s wardrobe reflects her man’s status.” Just then, Sarah spotted me walking in. Her expression shifted immediately to a wide, sugary smile. “Oh, Luna! You’re back!” I knew she had seen me enter long before this. Her entire performance had been for my benefit. She wanted me to hear every word, to see her basking in attention, and to watch me lose my composure. But I didn’t give her the satisfaction. Instead, I walked in with an easy smile and greeted everyone warmly. “Another gathering today? Make yourselves at home! Feel free to enjoy yourselves.” The room fell quiet for a moment, the atmosphere awkward. Clearly, last night’s events were still fresh in everyone’s minds. Noah glanced at me briefly but said nothing, his expression unreadable. I approached Sarah, giving her an appraising look from head to toe. With a nod of approval, I said, “Sarah, your boyfriend has excellent taste. That dress and bracelet suit you perfectly.” I smiled wider. “When’s the wedding? Don’t forget to invite me, okay?” Sarah froze, her confident demeanor faltering for a split second. Noah’s gaze flicked over to me, his phone momentarily forgotten. The others in the room exchanged uneasy glances, likely expecting me to lash out or make a scene. Instead, I beamed at everyone and added, “Don’t you all think Sarah is the most beautiful woman here today?” That seemed to break the tension. The group relaxed, laughing along as if nothing had happened. “Sarah, be honest now. Where’d you find such a wealthy guy?” “That dress and bracelet together? Must’ve cost at least a hundred grand!” “When did you start dating, huh? Keeping secrets from us?” The teasing came from all sides, and Sarah soaked it up, though her gaze kept darting toward Noah, hoping for a response. Seeing that Noah remained indifferent, she gave me a smug little smile before continuing her performance. “Oh, stop it! It’s not time to go public yet. But let’s just say…” She paused for dramatic effect, her tone growing softer and more intimate. “Last night, I spent the whole night with him. This dress and bracelet? Well…” Before she could finish, Noah, who had been silent on the couch this entire time, suddenly spoke. “Take it off.”

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