Category: English

My dad wrote a will. Whichever of my brother or I has a child first will get his entire inheritance. So, I quietly poked holes in every condom. But what I didn’t expect was that my boyfriend had secretly replaced my vitamins with birth control pills. Yet I still ended up pregnant. It’s just…the baby isn’t his, and he doesn’t know. There’s no love lost between my brother and me. He’s ten years older than I am. Thanks to my dad’s affairs, my mom left right after she had me—took her payout and vanished. Dad passed me off to Mason, and Mason handed me over to the nanny. Even if I was bruised or hurt, he’d just act like he didn’t see a thing. As for Dad? He was hardly ever home. And after I was born, he got more careful about keeping things “fun with no consequences.” I found out later that my brother had once told him if he dared to bring home another child, he’d throw it into the river. And Mason kept his word. The older he got, the more intimidating he became. Even Dad was a little afraid of him sometimes. Recently, Dad found out he has kidney disease. Now, after a lifetime of living as he pleased, he suddenly wants a grandchild. So, he told Mason and me: “Whichever of you two has a child first will get my entire estate.” Mason’s thirty-four now, the city’s youngest, most successful CEO. And my dad? His wealth is worth at least ten times my brother’s. Mason isn’t married, but he has plenty of lovers. I only have one boyfriend.

Mason has the upper hand in this. While he can cast a wide net, I’ve only got one option. The only advantage I have is time. I feigned feeling unwell to drag my boyfriend, Adam, to the hospital, sneaking in a full checkup. Just as I thought, he’s very healthy—and his sperm count is high. He has an exhausting amount of energy. As for me, I’d been sedentary for too long, and my immune system was weak, so they prescribed me some vitamins. I had no plans to tell Adam about wanting a baby. He’d been meticulous about protection. When I casually asked if he was afraid of me getting pregnant, he weighed his answer carefully. “Lena, right now, my career is just getting off the ground. If you had a child now, I wouldn’t be able to take care of you properly.” Then he held me, kissed my forehead, and added, “I want us to be settled, married, and stable before we think about a baby.” Adam had a knack for making everything he said sound sincere. But that also made him inflexible. If he knew my real motive, he’d insist we get married first, which would trap me—if Adam didn’t work out, I’d have no other options. That inheritance would go straight to Mason without a fight. That wasn’t going to happen. No matter the odds, I had to try. Even if he worked his whole life, Adam would never make even half of what Dad’s worth. Our family’s business legacy, grown over generations, had expanded overseas. But Dad was selfish and never offered any help, not even to Mason. He knew my brother didn’t care for me, which made me think this inheritance race was really just a way for him to push Mason. No matter what wild things he might do, he’d better not think about dethroning Dad. “What’s got you so lost in thought?” Adam, fresh from his shower, hair damp and hanging over his forehead, was standing there in nothing but lightweight lounge pants. He laughed softly, cupped my face, and leaned his nose against mine. “Were you thinking about something?” I swallowed. I wasn’t particularly passionate about this, actually. But Adam, no matter how busy, insisted on at least four times a week. So how could I up the frequency without raising any suspicion? I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulled him down onto the bed, and kissed him with my eyes closed. But when I started tugging at his waistband, he nuzzled my neck and let out a quiet chuckle. “Why so eager tonight?” He looked at me. For some reason, there was no humor in his eyes. But before I could think too much about it, he reached into the drawer and pulled out a condom. He rolled me over, so I was facing away from him. Hearing the wrapper rustle, I exhaled in relief. Every time Adam looked at me with those eyes, I felt like my little schemes were laid bare.

The next morning at work, I ran through Mason’s schedule. When I finished, he looked at me with a wry grin. “You’re working pretty hard for that inheritance.” For some reason, Adam had decided to leave plenty of marks on my neck last night. Even with concealer, they were still faintly visible up close. “So are you, big brother,” I replied. Yesterday, he’d left work early to visit one of his “special friends.” Ours wasn’t some covert battle; it was an open war. But Mason was leagues ahead of me, running a major company, while I was just his assistant because Dad put me here. “Never thought of trying with someone else? You trust your boyfriend that much?” “He’s younger than you. Don’t overwork yourself,” I shot back. Mason just raised an eyebrow, still amused. “Good luck.” As I left his office, he tapped his desk. “Lena, pick up Bianca Ryder at five.” Bianca Ryder—a famous model, my brother’s favorite mistress with a killer body. “Will do, Mr. Tanner.” When I picked up Bianca, she hugged me enthusiastically. The first time we met, she thought I was Mason’s new fling. After sizing me up, she scoffed. “So he’s into the girl-next-door type now?” “Can you really keep him interested?” Just then, Mason walked up, wrapped an arm around her waist, and flashed his affectionate smile. “Stop talking nonsense. This is my sister.” Bianca wasn’t buying it. “Didn’t you say you were an only child?” “Half-sister. My dad brought her home from…elsewhere.” “He was going to dump her in the river, but she cried and clung to my leg, so I let her stay.” Mason wasn’t lying. The day he brought me home, he’d tried to throw me out. I cried until my nose ran, and he finally left me alone. After that, no matter what the nanny did to me, Mason never stepped in. Bianca was his longest-standing lover. He eventually found a sweet, innocent type, just like she’d predicted. They’d fought, but then his behavior got even worse—every trip meant another fling, just like Dad. They broke up, but recently her runway show caused a stir. He’d watched it repeatedly, then courted her until she came back. I figured she must really love him to forgive him for so much. But something felt different this time. On the drive back, she asked calmly, “So where’s Mason?” “He’s in a meeting and asked me to pick you up.” Mason had bought her a villa. Bianca just nodded, quiet until I pulled up. Then she looked at me, a small, steady smile on her face. “He wants a baby with me.” I blinked, gripping the steering wheel. “How do you feel about that?” She touched her stomach. “Do you think a baby would settle him down?” “Bianca, what if he’s saying the same thing to someone else?” I didn’t believe Mason would put all his hopes on just her. She unbuckled, patting my head. “Lena, I want to believe him this one last time.” “He told me this time I’d be the only one.”

I’ll admit it—Mason knows how to play his part. He had me clear out every lover besides Bianca, even sending them off with gifts, houses, and cars. When Bianca asked if Mason planned to marry her, I bit my lip and nodded. She paused, thoughtful. “Maybe he’ll propose if I get pregnant. I can feel his excitement.” I watched her smile, not having the heart to tell her otherwise. The baby part was true, but a marriage? I doubted it. Sure enough, within a week, he brought in two more. One was even younger than me, still fresh and a little innocent. He wasn’t hiding anything from me. I was the one who had to pick them up and drive them to his place. The excuse he gave Bianca was believable—work was busy, expansion projects and all. Sometimes he had me bring them to his office. Mason didn’t worry about me ratting him out. Because, after all, he held Adam over my head. If he wanted, he could destroy him with a snap of his fingers. One of the new girls was Grace Hayes. She was nothing like Bianca, with her shy demeanor and porcelain skin, but Mason was captivated. He piled my workload so high I barely had a moment’s rest, while he spent lunch breaks shut away with her. Hearing their sounds through the wall, my blood boiled. After work, I went straight to Adam’s office. He looked surprised to see me. “What are you doing here?” He’d been avoiding me lately, using work as an excuse. I wondered if I’d been too forward. Seeing Mason flaunt it all so openly just made me feel worse. Tears burned my eyes, and I couldn’t stop them from falling. He wrapped me in his arms. “What’s wrong? Did Mason give you a hard time again?” I buried my face in his chest. “Why haven’t you been home?” His voice softened. “Too busy.” “It’s my fault. I’ll be home every night from now on.” His eyes were full of concern. I kissed him, and he froze, taking my hand. “Lena, this is my office.” Ignoring him, I kissed his throat, hearing him let out a deep sigh. As my hands reached his shirt buttons, I murmured, “Adam, don’t you want me?” “Of course I do,” he whispered hoarsely. He closed his eyes, then opened them again, struggling to hold back. “There’s nothing here.” I ignored him, fumbling around. “I’m on the pill.” Adam’s breathing grew heavier, his kisses deepening. But he still didn’t give in, taking his time instead to care for me. I woke up later in the dark office, moonlight casting shadows. I walked barefoot to the door. Adam was by the window, his torso covered in scratches. A cigarette dangled from his fingers, muscles flexing as he inhaled. Just as I was about to approach, he muttered into his phone, “Hurry it up.” “And be careful. Lena’s health isn’t great. She shouldn’t be taking too many pills.” That night, I took my “vitamins” as usual. Adam watched, hesitant, until he finally spoke. “You’re taking those every day now?” I nodded. “Try spacing it out to every other day. Even vitamins can be harmful.” I shrugged. “They’re just vitamins.” He leaned down, kissing me softly. “Lena, just trust me.” He took the bottle from my hand and placed it on the shelf. Adam carried me to the bathroom, steam filling the mirror as he gently wiped away my tears. “Too much?” he murmured, his touch lightening. “Were you this bold in my office today?” I couldn’t answer. I didn’t know what to say. Lately, I’d been nauseated more and more often. Every time, I hoped for a positive test. Still no sign of pregnancy, but I couldn’t give up. So I took the bottle to the hospital, where the doctor gave me the results: they weren’t vitamins—they were birth control pills. Adam was working for my brother all along.

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When my dad walked in on my mom cheating, he beat her so badly she was barely recognizable. I had to pull him off her to save her from worse. Later, she and her lover, Mark Ellis, poisoned my dad. Fearing the truth would come out, she locked me up, broke my limbs, and stitched my mouth shut so I couldn’t make a sound. Right before I died, I learned my brother Travis had taken out a million-dollar loan using my social security number. My family thrived off my name and money. Then, I opened my eyes—I was back on the day my mom got caught. Seeing that familiar scene, I felt my lips curl up into a smile. Go on, Dad. Hit her harder. She deserves it. “Linda Grant, have you any idea how I’ve treated you all these years? Since Diana was born, I’ve wanted you to live comfortably, so I covered all our expenses myself.” “And when Travis was born, I treated you like a queen. But look at you—you went and cheated!” “How dare you?!” With that, my dad raised the baseball bat and swung it toward my mom. Right then, I instinctively raised my arm, moved my legs, realizing that my body was whole and unharmed. I touched my lips; no cracked wounds or rows of stitches… I had been reborn. Travis’s face turned ghostly white as he grabbed my hand, voice choked with tears. “Diana, go stop Dad. If he keeps going, Mom will die!” Hearing that, my mom shot me a pleading look. Her body was bruised and bloody, her eyes were red, and blood was trickling from the corner of her mouth. “Diana, your dad listens to you. I promise I’ll never do it again!” “It’s all that bastard Mark’s fault. He lured me in, and I just lost control for a minute!” Even though I’d already died once, their pleas felt like being stabbed, each word a knife twisting in my flesh. In my last life, this had happened, too. My mom kept begging for mercy, and I softened, asking my dad again and again to give her another chance. I had no idea that, while she pretended to be the devoted wife, she was plotting with Mark to poison my dad’s food. They had him cremated while I wasn’t home. Later, she even had the audacity to marry Mark, calling herself a “single mom with two kids” who “needed a man to help around the house.” One night, I overheard them talking and finally learned the truth. My dad hadn’t died of a heart attack; they’d killed him, slowly and deliberately. I tried to pretend I didn’t know and sought a way to get revenge, but I knocked over a decoration in the process, tipping her off. Afraid I’d go to the police, my mom and Mark tied me to my bed. They broke my arms and legs so I couldn’t escape and sewed my mouth shut so I couldn’t speak. In desperation, I pinned my hopes on my brother, Travis. But what I never dreamed was that he would mockingly hold up my ID and say, “Sis, you ever heard of debt mules?” “I checked. You have a clean record and can take out over a million. Consider it your contribution to the family.” Then he lifted my chin, his smile as cold as it was cruel. “Oh, and by the way, I’m not even John Grant’s son. You’ll be joining your dead father real soon.” Remembering that brought a bead of sweat to my forehead. My open hand clenched into a fist. Last time, they killed my father and me in cold blood. This time, I’m making them pay.

“Dad, if things have come this far, you two might as well get divorced. Travis and I are already grown.” They all stared, shocked. They didn’t believe those words had just come out of my mouth. My dad’s hand froze mid-air. He took a step back and sat down hard on the couch. My mom staggered to her feet, pointing at me and screaming, “Diana, are you even human? How can you say something like that?!” “Do you know how hard it is for kids from single-parent families? Travis is a senior in high school! He’s got a crucial year ahead, and you don’t care about his future!” I let out a sarcastic chuckle and looked at her with a newfound hatred. Ever since she got pregnant with me, she’d been a stay-at-home mom. My dad worked himself to the bone to provide a good life for Travis and me, carrying the burden of supporting our family all on his own. Growing up, I’d resented him countless times. On every holiday, it seemed it was always just the three of us at home. But as I got older, I realized my dad was the one sacrificing the most. He’d keep only a couple of dollars a week for himself, sending the rest to my mom. He wore old, faded jackets while buying us sneakers that cost hundreds. He’d eat plain bread and water, giving the best to us with a smile, insisting he was full. In the end, it was because of us that he endured so much. Seeing that I wasn’t giving in, Travis shot me an angry look. “Diana, what kind of daughter tells her parents to get divorced?” My mom pulled him close, crying even louder. “Exactly! I raised you all these years, and now you’re not even on my side. But at least I have my son.” “John, for the kids’ sake, forgive me just this once. After everything we’ve been through, could you really bear to let it end?” “No matter how devoted Diana is, she’s still just a girl. We’ll need Travis to take care of us when we’re old. If we really split up… what would it do to him?” My mom knew that family was everything to my dad, and she put on a pitiful act, hoping he’d soften. Even though he was tough, he’d never thought sons were more important than daughters. Late nights while I was studying, he’d send encouraging texts, urging me on. “Girls need to explore the world, not be stuck in some small town,” he’d say. “Having you was meant to bring joy into my life, not trap you under someone else’s shadow.” I walked slowly over to him, noticing his back was now bent and weak, no longer the proud, resilient man he once was. I sat next to him, leaning against his shoulder, my voice shaking. “Dad, you’ve worked so hard all these years…” “Your daughter’s all grown up now. You don’t have to take care of me anymore.” “Please, live the life you deserve.” He lifted his head slowly, meeting my gaze. Tears glistened in his eyes. My mom threw Travis a glance, and he got the hint. He dropped to his knees, clutching my dad’s pants. “Dad, Mom knows she made a mistake…” “Dad, I don’t want you to split up.” My mom stood nearby, her tears flowing in rivers. But I knew it wasn’t my dad she couldn’t bear to lose. It was her “money machine.”

Later, my dad moved his bedding to the living room, ignoring my mom. But she and Travis dragged me into a room and started tearing into me. “Diana, you really just let him hit me, didn’t you? Enjoyed it, didn’t you?” Then she reached to grab my arm, but I dodged. “You brat, how dare you fight back? Don’t think that if we get divorced, you’ll get the house. Dream on. It all goes to your brother.” In our last life, my mom was a master at double-dealing. To the rest of the family, she acted as though she treated me and Travis equally. But behind closed doors? From the day Travis was born, he became her whole world. I was tasked with watching over him, cleaning the house, doing the cooking. The best of everything went to him, and if I so much as snuck a taste, I’d be punished, made to kneel in the kitchen all night, not allowed to sleep. By my senior year, I looked so malnourished people thought I was still in middle school. Whenever my dad came home, she’d pretend to care for me and always threatened that if I told him, she’d beat me even harder once he left. Even after I started working, she kept controlling me. Knowing Travis struggled with school, she pushed for expensive tutors and then started eyeing my paycheck. Her plan was for me to go unpaid and tutor him myself so he’d get into a good college. Remembering this, I let out a smile. It’s time they woke up from their dream. This time, Travis sneered with a twisted smile, taunting, “That’s right. Girls are money sinks, born to serve us.” “First you hand over your paychecks, then your dowry. And you’ll squeeze every penny from your in-laws to support me—that’s your destiny!” My mom, sensing I was staying silent, raised her hand to slap me, but I screamed louder than her. “Mom, I get it! I’m sorry! Please, don’t hit me again!” The two of them froze, thrown off by my reaction. Moments later, my dad stormed into the room, eyebrows knitted as he stepped between me and them. “Linda Grant, who the hell do you think you are, putting your hands on my daughter?” Travis quickly tried to cover, “Dad, don’t listen to Diana. Mom loves her! She’d never hit her.” Inside, I couldn’t help but laugh at his pathetic attempt. So, we’re playing pretend now? I raised my arm without a second thought, rolling up my sleeve to reveal the bruises. “Dad, I’m not lying. Mom hit me, just now.” “She called me a waste of space and said I was born to give up everything for Travis, so he could live a better life.” Already furious, my dad’s anger reached a boiling point. Without hesitating, he turned and slapped my mom across the face. “If I ever hear you say another word like that, pack your things and leave. Take your son with you!” I watched his retreating figure, my eyes filling with tears as a heavy fog of emotion welled up inside me. In both lives, he’d always been the one person who truly loved me. But this time, it’s my turn to protect him.

That night, I lay awake, memories of the last life replaying over and over in my mind. The torment, the betrayals—I’d make sure they paid for all of it, with interest. The next morning, while my parents took Travis to a parent-teacher meeting, I set up the camera I’d bought, aiming it directly at the guest bedroom where they often schemed. I refused to tutor Travis anymore, making an excuse about an upcoming business trip, and I checked into a cheap motel to put distance between us. Back when I’d first graduated and landed a job, my mom had taken my paycheck, saying it was for “family support.” Left with nothing, I’d worked days at my job and nights delivering takeout just to get by. Her demands had started small but grew rapidly. The more I gave, the greedier she got, wanting thousands each month for Travis’s needs. After a week, things calmed down, and my dad’s anger seemed to have subsided. I watched the footage from the camera on my phone, listening as my mom and Travis chatted in the guest bedroom. Travis was whining, clutching my mom’s arm. “Mom, all my friends have the latest iPhones. Can’t you just take some of Diana’s money and get me one?” “Look at this old phone; it’s so slow it can barely load my games!” My mom smiled tenderly, brushing his hair back—a softness I’d never seen directed toward me. “Baby, that money’s set aside for your future. Besides, that little idiot Diana’s still obedient. If she’d snitched to your dad, we’d have nothing left.” “She’s such a sucker,” Travis scoffed, lounging back as she fed him fruit. “You should just kill Dad. Then we’ll have everything to ourselves.” I felt a chill run down my spine. My mom hesitated, but he pressed on, “Remember the last time he nearly beat you to death? Showing him mercy is a danger to yourself.” “Well, he’s heading out of town tomorrow. Just get rat poison from his friend—that way, even if there’s an investigation, it won’t trace back to us.” I sat bolt upright in my bed, heart pounding as I calculated. They were planning to move soon. What I didn’t expect was for someone to make the first move before they could even begin.

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While taking my annual vacation, I lay back in the Private Spa Suite, savoring the peace. When the waiter handed me a small cake, I casually complimented him, “Great service here. Do all guests get this?” He replied, “No, only for female guests or couples.” The fork slipped from my fingers and dropped into the water. My husband, Daniel Hayes, brings me this exact triangular slice, a Rose-Petal Cake, every time he returns from a business trip. Something in my gut told me that he’d been cheating—and that his mistress must not like sweets. My name is Rachel Evans. I’m the manager of the Emerald Jewelry Sales Division, and after a few years of shrewd investments, I’ve done pretty well for myself. Daniel Hayes, my husband, was my college classmate. From freshman to junior year, he persistently chased after me until, finally, I said yes. An arts student with little in the way of prospects, he landed his sales consultant job because I pulled some strings for him. But I liked his looks and his loyal, gentle-dog qualities. Now, though, I stared at the tiny cake in my hands, silent for a long time. Daniel brings back this triangular slice of Rose-Petal Cake after every business trip, claiming it’s complimentary from his hotel. Single male guests don’t usually receive perks like this, though—so, it’s likely another woman stayed with him. Unlike Daniel, I am naturally thrifty; whenever I travel to meet clients, I’m usually back the same day, and even if I stay overnight, I settle for a basic three-star hotel. But Daniel, comfortably reimbursed by the company, has no qualms about booking luxury accommodations. When I confided my suspicions to my friend Stephanie Ward, she was shocked but quickly gave her opinion: “No way. You two were college sweethearts—you’ve been through everything together, from school uniforms to wedding rings. Get the facts straight before you decide anything.” I frowned and nodded. Honestly, I couldn’t be sure if I was overreacting or if there was really something there. Either way, I needed to test Daniel. Stephanie, who runs a nail salon and has a sharp way with words, is a little more street-smart than I am. While I’m good with the business side of things, she’s better at reading people, so I asked her to help me strategize. After thinking it over, she texted me the next day with a plan: “Doesn’t he travel a lot? His mistress might be a coworker. We can try waiting for him by the underground parking after work to see who he’s with.” It was a solid plan. Since they’d be traveling together, the mistress was likely a female colleague. So, before Daniel left work that evening, I called to let him know that I’d be out with Stephanie and wouldn’t stop by to visit him. “All right, hon. I’ll be home after work to wait for you,” he replied, his tone as warm as ever, making me doubt myself for a second. That evening, Stephanie and I sat waiting in her car at the parking garage. It didn’t take long. Daniel appeared, heading toward his parking space—and a young woman was walking beside him, clinging to his arm and leaning provocatively close. My lips pressed together, my fists clenching. Just as I thought, he was cheating with a younger female coworker. Stephanie sneered. “Unbelievable. Has he forgotten who fed him when he was jobless? You got him that job, and this is how he repays you?” Yes, Daniel came from a modest background, while my family was well-off. We were from different worlds. Naturally, my parents had strongly opposed our relationship. But I’d been defiant, swearing our love would get us through anything, like a real-life Romeo and Juliet. Now reality was making a mockery of those ideals. My hands tightened around the steering wheel, my gaze locked on the scene unfolding in front of me. Unexpectedly, just as the woman was about to get in the car, Daniel gently pushed her away. “Sorry,” he said loudly. “I’m married. Please keep things professional between us.” His voice carried clearly in the empty garage; I heard every word. The young woman stomped off, clearly frustrated, and turned away without looking back. Stephanie exhaled in relief. “See? He probably didn’t cheat. She must’ve been trying to get with him one-sidedly.” One-sided…? I wasn’t buying it. That woman was exactly Daniel’s type. When I got home, I was still uneasy. While I was changing in the entryway, Daniel—who had arrived home earlier than usual—walked up behind me and wrapped his arms around me. “Happy anniversary, babe.” He placed a diamond necklace around my neck. I was a bit taken aback, as my work in emeralds made me prefer diamonds more. I pulled away from him, unable to ignore it. “Who was that woman I saw you with, the one you nearly gave a ride?” Daniel looked mildly surprised but explained gently, “Oh, you mean Zoe. She’s just the boss’s little fling. Even if I wanted to, getting involved with her would mean career suicide.” Seeing my frown relax slightly, he leaned in and murmured, “You’re the only one in my heart, babe.” His explanation was flawless. I couldn’t argue further, but his embrace felt cold, somehow hollow. Was it possible that everything was just in my head?

My doubts stemmed from my own insecurity about marriage. Being firm on living the DINK lifestyle, I’m a career-driven woman who doesn’t want kids. This was something Daniel’s family never accepted. His mother, Linda Hayes, comes from a traditional background, where passing down the family name is everything, and Daniel is the family’s only heir. “A healthy couple with no kids? Just give me a grandchild to look after,” she once insisted. I stood my ground, even though it nearly ended our engagement. Daniel, in a surprising move, stood up to his mom and went through with a vasectomy for my sake. He really amazed and moved me. “Look, Mom,” he told her, “I can’t have kids anymore, so there’s no problem with marrying Rachel.” Linda was so furious she practically collapsed on the spot, feigning a blood pressure episode, though I knew it was all for show. We married three years ago and held to our DINK lifestyle, happily living our own lives without children. But despite my efforts to be patient and respectful, Linda never missed a chance to mock or needle me. “A useless hen that doesn’t lay eggs!” I endured it all, partly out of guilt toward Daniel, and kept showing respect to his parents. That morning, after a restless night, I looked at my sleeping husband and felt a pang of guilt. He’d been nearly perfect toward me, so what was I holding onto? When I went to work, I threw myself into my latest project. That afternoon, we split a rare emerald stone, and the first cut revealed an imperial green quality—pure and flawless. Ecstatic, I bought a bracelet for a hefty $208,000. It was a great investment, and I thought gifting it to Linda might mend things a bit. But her reaction was only a dismissive frown. “Ugh, what good is this thing? Can’t eat it or drink it. Give me a grandchild, and that’ll make me happy!” I pressed my lips together, holding back any mention of the bracelet’s cost. My gesture was lost on her, but I’d tried. To celebrate, I invited Stephanie to dinner at an exclusive members-only restaurant where the chef’s choices changed daily. Stephanie seemed out of place. When I offered her some wine, she refused, saying she was on antibiotics and would stick to juice. As we waited, well-dressed patrons filled in around us, making her even more uncomfortable. She fidgeted and finally excused herself to the restroom, returning with a touch of lipstick and a few extra pieces of jewelry. “Getting dolled up just to eat?” I teased, and as she adjusted her bracelet, my eyes caught it. An imperial green jade bracelet—the same as the one I’d given Linda. Only two of these had come from that stone, one I’d bought, and the other was sold to an executive, Mr. Chen. “Nice bracelet you have there…not bad quality.” I commented. Stephanie laughed, brushing it off. “Oh, please, I’d never afford the real thing. It was a gift—probably a fake.” But I knew this bracelet well. I’d inspected it closely enough to recognize a small cotton flaw in the design. Seeing my gaze harden, she grew visibly anxious.

Maybe it was her sudden guilt or maybe she just couldn’t face me; halfway through dinner, Stephanie got a call and quickly excused herself, claiming she had an urgent matter to attend to. “Do you need a ride?” I asked with a polite smile. She waved me off. “No, no, Rachel, someone’s picking me up.” I watched her leave from the restaurant’s floor-to-ceiling window. She didn’t wait for anyone, though—she slipped straight into a cab. Feeling a twinge of suspicion, I got into my car and followed. The taxi’s destination was, oddly enough, my own office building—the same place where Daniel works, where I’d recently bought that emerald. This was odd, since by that hour, most people had already left for the day. Stephanie seemed cautious, glancing around with her black mask covering most of her face. Once she reached the front entrance and saw no one else was around, she hurried inside. Narrowing my eyes, I parked and crept into the building, trailing her down the dim, empty hallways. Only one office still had a light on: Daniel’s. I held my breath and moved closer to the door. Through the narrow crack, I saw the scene that would forever etch itself into my memory.

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After an arranged marriage, I suddenly had a 4-and-a-half-year-old son. Before meeting him, I was dreading it. I imagined a miserable life with a husband who ignored me and a stepson who pretended I didn’t exist. But when I saw that adorable little boy shyly calling me “Mommy” while clutching my shirt, I instantly melted. I even asked my husband, “If we divorce, can I keep our son?” My husband: “???” When my family’s company ran into trouble, my father didn’t hesitate to arrange my marriage to a successful businessman who already had a son. Of course, I was thrilled about this. After all, I was a committed bachelorette. If he already had a son, I wouldn’t have to worry about having kids in the future. Plus, he was a workaholic who never had time for his son. The boy was mostly raised by nannies. I figured I could just coast through life. My husband was a big CEO, so I wouldn’t even need to take care of the kid. The wedding was a small, simple affair without many guests. I didn’t see the child there either. True to form, my workaholic husband left for the office right after the ceremony. As he was leaving, he said, “I’ll be busy at work for the next few days.” “Ethan is already at home. Get to know him when you get back.” Ethan Quinn. That was my stepson’s name. My parents were divorced and I wasn’t close to my father. I didn’t take much when I left home – just a necklace pendant. “Mrs. Quinn, young Master Ethan is waiting for you in the living room,” the housekeeper cheerfully informed me as soon as I walked in. Ugh… was he going to try to intimidate me already? Whatever, I could handle a little kid. How scary could he be? But… Who was this adorable little dumpling sitting on the sofa?! So tiny! So cute! So squishy! While I was standing there stunned, the little dumpling toddled over to me. In his sweet little voice, he said: “Miss… Wilson, this is… a gift… for you.” It was a pink teddy bear. Even though the bear was bigger than him, he was still trying his best to hold it out to me. Despite this being our first meeting, he was so friendly towards me. I was incredibly touched and quickly took the teddy bear. Then I crouched down and gently held his chubby little hands. “Wow! Thank you so much, sweetie! I love it! Your name is Ethan, right? I’m your new mommy. No need to be so formal – we’re family now. You can call me Mommy if you’d like.” Oh my gosh, he was so cute! I just wanted to hug him! That jerk of a husband of mine was truly heartless to neglect such an adorable boy. My poor son had it so rough! Yep, from now on, he was my own son! The little dumpling seemed surprised by what I said. His tiny body trembled slightly and his chubby cheeks turned bright red. He nervously gripped the hem of his shirt and shyly called out: “Mo…mmy?” After saying it, he ducked his head in embarrassment, peeking up at me now and then. Oh my goodness! Forget about the dad – this son was all mine now!! I cleared my throat and gave a solemn “Mm-hmm.” Then I turned to the housekeeper who had been standing nearby and said, “I’ll take care of the child from here. You can go about your business.” “Very well, Mrs. Quinn.” This feeling was absolutely amazing! I tried to contain my excitement and act nonchalant as I gently scooped up the little dumpling. Then, with Ethan in one arm and the teddy bear in the other, I headed upstairs. I’d been to the house a few times before the wedding, so I was familiar with the general layout. My husband really lived up to his big shot status – a six-story mansion with three elevators and two small gardens. Even the decor was grand and impressive. I brought Ethan to the room Nathan had prepared for me and placed the teddy bear next to the pillow. “Ethan, I’m sorry I didn’t have a gift prepared for you. But this necklace pendant is very important to me. Would you like to keep it safe for Mommy?” “I’ll look at it every day,” he promised solemnly. I fastened it around his neck and he looked so happy. “How about you sleep with Mommy tonight, and then tomorrow I’ll take you to preschool? Is that okay?” I asked, keeping my voice soft and gentle. If my friends could see how sweet I was being, they’d probably think I’d been possessed or something. “Okay,” came his soft reply. So adorable. I was lost in my own thoughts and didn’t notice the brief flicker of tension that crossed the little dumpling’s cherubic face. That evening… “…And so the little fox and his mommy lived happily ever after.” After finishing the story, I looked down at the sleeping Ethan and quietly set the book aside. Just then… my phone started ringing loudly. I nearly dropped it in shock and quickly hung up. Hearing Ethan’s steady, even breathing, I breathed a sigh of relief. I tiptoed out of the room and only called back once I was far enough away that he wouldn’t hear. “Amber Wilson, how dare you hang up on me!” the woman on the other end shouted indignantly. “I was putting my son to bed. And it’s my wedding night, for crying out loud. Why are you calling so late?” I said, exasperated. “Oh please, everyone knows your husband isn’t even home. He went straight to the office after the ceremony.” “Wait, what did you just say? Son? Since when do you have a son?” she exclaimed in shock. I frowned slightly. “My husband’s son. But he’s my son now too.” It made sense that she didn’t know. I only found out myself when I was told I’d be marrying Nathan. Nathan had kept the child’s existence very private. But now the news about the boy was public. “And keep your voice down, will you?” “I thought you hated kids. I know you’re all alone on your wedding night, so I called to cheer you up,” Sarah said brazenly. How was I supposed to know the little dumpling would be so adorable? I thought that to myself, but didn’t say it out loud. “What’s up?” I asked instead. “You have to come to the class reunion this Saturday. That little goody two-shoes is going to be there too. Remember – you better look smoking hot and put her in her place!” I could tell from her tone how angry Sarah was. Her expression was probably just as ugly. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Come on, it’s been years. I’ve forgotten all about that stuff.” She just huffed and didn’t say anything else. We chatted for a few more minutes before hanging up. I stood by the fifth floor window, staring blankly at the sky. Suddenly, I found myself thinking back to the summer after high school graduation. In high school, Sarah, Chloe and I were super close friends. At a group dinner after the SATs, the most popular guy in school suddenly confessed to me. Everyone was egging us on and making a big fuss. I was annoyed by all the commotion, so I turned him down point-blank. What I didn’t know was that Chloe had liked him for a long time and had been secretly pursuing him. Because of my rejection, the guy got upset and started dating Chloe instead out of spite. People said she only got to be with him because of me. Our relationship just kept getting worse after that. I thought once we went off to college, I’d never have to see her again. But to my surprise, even though we weren’t at the same school, she still went around spreading rumors about me and trying to make my life miserable. She and that guy didn’t last long though – he ended up cheating on her. I heard she’s going to be at the class reunion on Saturday too. “Ugh, what a pain!” I groaned, messing up my hair in frustration. But you know what? It’s been so long, maybe she’s forgotten all about it. Thinking that, I relaxed a bit. For the next few days, I just stayed home with Ethan. Other than dropping him off and picking him up from preschool each day, I worked on my fashion designs. I’m a designer for a famous brand, you know. I wasn’t about to give up my career just because I got married. That would be way too boring! Lately, Ethan has inspired so many new ideas. I’d be doing a disservice to my profession if I didn’t put them to use! On Saturday morning, I watched Ethan quietly playing with his blocks, a big smile spreading across my face. But then I thought about who I’d have to deal with that afternoon and couldn’t help but sigh. Why did I have to go to a class reunion instead of a PTA meeting? Noticing my mood, Ethan looked at me with concern. “Mommy, are you sad?” I gently pinched his chubby little cheek and said, “Mommy has to go to a party this afternoon. Can you play by yourself at home, sweetie?” After spending the past few days together, Ethan had grown much closer to me. “Can Ethan come too? Ethan will be very good,” he promised. Thinking about how she would be there, I started to refuse. His bright eyes immediately dimmed. “Okay, Ethan will wait for Mommy at home.” Oh no, the guilt was setting in. It should be fine to bring him along, right? I’d keep a close eye on him. Leaving him home alone would make me no better than his dad. “You can come, sweetie. Do you want to go with Mommy?” “Yes~” Seeing his eyes light up again, I breathed a sigh of relief. But why did I feel like I’d just been played? The reunion was being held in a private room at a restaurant. By the time we arrived, it had already started. “If it isn’t the goddess Amber! Why are you so late? We’ve been waiting for you!” someone called out as soon as we walked in. So much for quietly slipping into a corner. I smiled and waved hello, then saw Sarah frantically gesturing at me from across the room. I headed over, leading Ethan by the hand. At that point, everyone else stopped what they were doing. “Amber’s here! And who’s this little one…?” someone asked. I sat down and pulled Ethan onto my lap, frowning slightly at all the bottles of alcohol on the table. “My son,” I replied. Then I turned to a nearby waiter and asked quietly, “Do you have any drinks for children?” “Of course, of course.” After getting Ethan settled, I looked at Sarah. “Wipe that look off your face before you scare my son.” Sarah grinned mischievously. “Your son is so cute! Does he need a godmother?” She was clearly up to no good. “Get lost,” I said, giving her a disgusted look. We started eating and chatting. A little while later, I smelled an overpowering wave of perfume. The next second, Ethan sneezed. At the same time, a familiar voice rang out: “Amber, I heard you recently married a man with a child. Are you that desperate? Don’t tell me you’re…” She trailed off, but I knew what she was implying. “Chloe John, who the hell do you think you’re insulting?!” Sarah’s temper instantly flared up and she glared furiously at Chloe.

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Mom was a quick traveler, moving from world to world with a mission and a system, wining over the hearts of the “male leads” and earning rewards. Usually, after completing a mission in one world, she would head to the next. But after winning over Dad, she chose to stay here forever. Our little family of three lived happily. But then, Dad fell for his secretary. Mom told Dad, “If you go see her again, I’m leaving.” Dad replied, “Where will you go? You have no family here.” But when Mom really left, Dad went crazy. I pushed open the bedroom door. Mom was lying quietly on the bed, as if she were asleep. I walked over and called softly, “Mom.” But she didn’t open her eyes and pull me into her embrace like she usually did. I placed my hand under her nose, but there was no breath. I knew then that my mom was gone.

Mom had told me she was a mission player. Because she successfully completed her task, she chose to stay in this world forever. She said this with a smiling face. Back then, I didn’t understand what “mission” meant, so I asked, “Mom, what’s your mission?” Mom held my small hand and said, “It’s to win over your dad, make him fall in love with me, and then have you! So, Candy, you’re Mom’s greatest gift.” She kissed my cheek gently and said she never regretted it. But later, Mom never smiled like that again. Because Dad fell for his secretary. People said that Dad would soon leave Mom and me. I angrily drove them away and hugged Mom. I thought, even if Dad didn’t want Mom, it’s okay. Mom still had me. Because she was my mom, so she would always stay with me.

Usually, Mom helped me change out of my pajamas, put on my clothes, and then took me to brush my teeth. She joked that at ten years old, I still needed her help; other kids would laugh at me. I would pout and say, “They’d just be jealous my mom takes such good care of me.” But now that Mom’s gone, I had to dress myself. When I got to the dining table, our nanny, May had breakfast ready. May asked me, “Why isn’t Mrs. up yet?” I replied, “Mom’s still sleeping.” May was the nanny Mom hired for me, paying ten years’ salary in one go, to take care of me. Before, we didn’t have a nanny. Mom took care of everything at home. She was like Superwoman. After finishing chores and putting me to bed, she would study law books in the study for an hour each night to prepare for the bar exam. Dad didn’t understand and said, “Why do you tire yourself out? I support you, wouldn’t it be nice to relax?” But Mom would gently and firmly shake her head and say, “Rex, it’s my dream.” When she said that, her eyes shone brightly. I thought she looked so beautiful then, and Dad must have thought so too. He would reach out, impulsively hug her, and nuzzle into her neck like a puppy. Mom’s face would turn red and she’d push Dad away. “Candy’s right here.” I knew Dad and Mom were about to play a game they never let me join. I wanted to ask Mom to include me this time, but when Dad’s eyes landed on me, he said, “Candy, out.” I got scared and left obediently. Most times, Dad was nice to me. But I feared that look he gave me, making me agree to things without question. After that, things got better at home. Dad encouraged Mom to study for the bar and stayed up late with her. But the day before the exam, Dad took all of Mom’s documents and locked her in a room. He only let her out after the exam was over and he returned from work with me. Mom looked at Dad with fire in her eyes. “Rex, do you know I’ve prepared for a whole year for this? Do you know how important this is to me?” Ignoring her struggles, Dad held her tightly and softly said, “Evie, I’m sorry, but it’s for our family. I just want you to be home where I can hold you whenever I want. Candy feels the same way.” As he said this, he looked at me. I remembered Dad’s words from earlier that day: “If Mom becomes a lawyer, she’ll be traveling for work and forget all about you. And if she meets someone she likes, she might leave us.” Dad’s words scared me. I didn’t want Mom to leave. So, I held Mom’s hand and said, “Mom, don’t be mad at Dad. I don’t want you to leave either.” Mom looked at me, her strength fading as she slumped into Dad’s arms. After a while, her dry voice finally made its way out. “Don’t let it happen again.” Dad smiled, satisfied. Even though things turned out as I wanted, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had done something terribly wrong when I saw Mom’s now dimmer eyes.

After breakfast, I returned to my bedroom and closed the door, quietly watching my mom. At ten years old, I understood life and death. But I wasn’t scared. Mom had told me she traveled to this world at eighteen. In her original world, she lay in bed in a hospital, with tubes in her body. When she succeeded in her mission, the system gave her a choice: go back home or stay here. She wanted to go back to see her mom but couldn’t bear to leave Dad, and especially me, so she stayed. I asked her, “Mom, can you stay with me forever?” “Of course,” she said. I remembered those words for a long time. Now, I just gently touched her nose and whispered, “Mom, you liar.” Suddenly, the doorbell rang. I knew it wasn’t Dad; he hadn’t been home for a long time. Nora’s voice called out from outside, “Candy, open the door for Auntie. Auntie will take you home. I’ll be your mom.” I shouted back, “Go away! You’re not my mom, you’re a homewrecker!” After giving up on her law exam, Mom started focusing on taking care of Dad and me. We were happy. I thought we would always be happy. But then, Nora appeared. She was Dad’s newly hired secretary, always clumsy. Dad complained about her more often. I wondered why, if he found her so annoying, he didn’t just fire her. But he started coming home later and sometimes not at all. Nora even appeared in Dad’s social media posts. While shopping with Mom one day, we saw Dad with Nora. Mom dropped a vase she was holding. Dad looked over, his face instantly panicking before he pulled Nora’s wrist to chase after Mom. But Mom picked me up and ran, covering her mouth. That night, my parents fought. I hid behind the door, listening to Dad try to explain. He said he was only helping Nora because she was lonely and nothing was going on, treating her like a sister. Mom wasn’t buying it and coldly warned him, “If you see her again, I will leave.” Dad got angry, “Where would you go? You have no family here.” He knew Mom was a mission player. She gave up the chance to go back home for him and couldn’t leave this world. I remembered one time Dad made Mom mad, and she stormed out with her bag. I was frantic, begging Dad to go after her. But Dad just sat with his legs crossed, reading the paper, saying, “Where can she go?” That night, Mom came back with red eyes and bags of groceries. “Rex, I bought food for you guys.” She opened the takeout boxes—it was my favorite crab meat dumplings and Dad’s favorite chive wontons. I happily ate my dumplings while Mom quietly ate leftovers from last night. Suddenly, I lost my appetite. I thought, if Mom had a family to go back to, she would take the longest train or flight to get there. But her family was in another world; she had nowhere else to go. Dad banked on that to keep her in line.、

Outside, Nora knocked on the door for a while before falling silent. I thought she had left. But an hour later, I heard the lock being picked. The security camera showed a stranger. I got scared. Mom always said that if a stranger came when kids were home alone, they should find an adult. I couldn’t get Mom, so I ran to the kitchen to find May. “May, there’s someone outside, and I don’t know them.” May grabbed a kitchen knife, swallowing nervously. She stood by the door with me. When the lock finally clicked open, Nora stood there smiling and handed the locksmith $20. “Thank you, sir.” May said, “Miss Nora, how could you do this?” Nora replied, “Candy, your dad sent me to take you home. But you wouldn’t see me, so I had no other choice.” She reached out to grab me. I bit her hand hard and shouted, “I won’t go with you! Forget it!” Nora screamed, and I tasted blood in my mouth before I let go. She shoved me to the ground angrily and stormed out. My hand got scraped on the floor, and it started bleeding. May quickly brought the first-aid kit. As she bandaged my hand, I couldn’t help but say, “Mom, it hurts.” But my mom couldn’t hear me anymore. She used to spend time with Dad and me every day. Now she was gone, and I finally understood what missing someone felt like. I remembered when I was six, and Dad took us back to his hometown for a family gathering. The house was packed with Dad’s relatives: uncles, aunts, grandparents… so many people. But Mom and I were alone. That day, Mom cooked an entire feast by herself. Even when we sat to eat, she was still bustling in the kitchen. Uncle and Dad’s brother praised Dad, “You found an amazing and hardworking wife.” Dad smiled proudly. Mom, wiping flour off her forehead and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, smiled shyly. By the time she sat down to eat, most of the food was gone. I told her I was tired, so she quickly finished a few bites and took me upstairs. But at the staircase, she stopped and looked back. I did too, curious. Grandpa and Grandma were handing out red envelopes, uncles and Dad were talking about work, and the aunts were playing cards. They were all with family. Mom stared for a long time. I tugged at her hand and asked, “Mom, what’s wrong?” She snapped out of it and looked at me. Amidst the noise and lights, her eyes were filled with sadness. “Yaya, what do you think my mom is doing right now?” Turns out, my mom missed her mom too.

After May finished bandaging my hand, she glanced at Mom’s room and frowned. “It’s almost dark. Why isn’t Mrs. up yet?” I replied, “Mom’s really tired. Let her sleep a bit more.” May sighed, “It’s been days, and Mr. hasn’t even come to check on us.” Dad hadn’t been home in a long time. He once said he was on a business trip, but he was actually on vacation with Nora. Nora had flaunted those photos in front of Mom, telling her to divorce Dad and give up her spot. Mom’s eyes filled with tears when she saw the photos. She had wanted to visit that place for a long time and had asked Dad to take her, but he was always busy. Now he had taken Nora instead. Mom showed Dad the photos. Instantly, Dad’s face changed. He claimed they were photoshopped, saying they didn’t count. Mom’s eyes filled with sorrow. “Rex, what did you promise me when we got married? That you’d only love me and be good to me. Otherwise, why would I stay here?” Dad retorted, “Haven’t I been good to you? A million-dollar house, diamond rings, designer clothes—you asked for them, and I gave them.” Mom shook her head, whispering, “We just can’t communicate.” She threw Dad’s clothes and shoes out of the house. He, feeling humiliated, said he wouldn’t come back. And from that day, he really didn’t. Soon, Nora’s house caught fire, so she moved in with Dad. Mom didn’t cry when she heard. She just hugged me gently. “Now I understand that people’s hearts and love can change, and promises only matter when they are made,” Mom said softly. “But it’s too late to regret now.” 8 That night, I brushed my teeth by myself and used a towel to clean my small body. Then, I climbed into bed and hugged Mom. Even though her body was stiff and cold, as long as she lay there, I felt happy. I once asked, “Mom, what kind of person is your mom?” Mom never talked about her dad, and her mom was her only relative. “Mom was strict. She would hit and scold me when I didn’t do my homework,” she said. I frowned, not understanding why she would miss someone like that. Sometimes Mom had nightmares and called out for “Mom,” not Dad. Mom’s voice changed as she continued, “But when I was diagnosed with leukemia at sixteen, Mom never got angry again. She quit her job, sold the house, and took care of me every day.” “My mom loved me a lot,” she said with a mix of pride and sadness. I realized Mom never forgot her mother. When she traveled to this world at eighteen, she was still just a girl. One day, I found Mom crying secretly by the window after learning Dad was on vacation with Nora. She said she shouldn’t have let love cloud her judgment, giving up everything, including her mom, whom she could never see again. 9 Mom had asked Dad for a divorce. A month after he moved out, she invited him back home. Dad showed up in a black suit with his hair slicked back, looking more handsome than ever. That day, Mom cooked a big meal. Dad smugly said, “Changed your mind?” I sat at the table, excited, hoping they would reconcile. But Mom put down her chopsticks and said, “Rex, let’s get a divorce.” I knew what divorce meant—Dad and Mom would be separated forever, and we’d rarely be together. Dad’s expression changed instantly. “Evie, you’re making a big deal out of nothing! I won’t do anything with Nora. I still love you. Why can’t you be more understanding?” Mom said, “To me, this isn’t a small issue. You broke your promise and betrayed our love. How can I be understanding?” Dad, looking worried, angrily said, “If we divorce, where will you go? Who do you know here besides Candy and me?” Mom, choking up, replied, “If I don’t know anyone, I’ll meet new people. If I run out of money, I’ll wash dishes and mop floors. I can take care of Candy by myself.” Dad sneered, “Go ahead and try.” He turned and left in a hurry. In the following days, Mom sent out many job applications, but they were all rejected. She kept applying, hundreds, thousands of times. Until a kind person told her: “Miss Bailey, Mr. Rex has made it known that no one should hire you.” Soon, a lawyer came with documents for Mom. “What’s this?” Mom asked. “It’s a comparison of you and Mr. Rex’s assets,” the lawyer explained. “If you go to court for custody, unfortunately, you won’t have much chance.” Mom turned pale. I clung to her shirt, petrified. Shortly afterward, Dad’s relatives showed up, surrounding Mom with interrogation-like questions. “With Rex’s great conditions, you still want to divorce? You won’t get a better chance.” “Ungrateful. What does Rex even see in her?” Mom, coldly, said, “Stop trying to convince me. I’m divorcing him.” One softened their tone, “Evie, think about the child. How upset she’d be if she knew her parents were divorcing.” Mom looked momentarily moved. The group quickly said: “Yes, the child needs a healthy childhood.” “Everything for the kid. What’s so hard to bear?” Someone pushed me towards Mom, smiling, “Candy, do you want your parents to divorce? If they do, you’ll be without a mom.” Tears welled in my eyes. I hugged Mom tightly, scared, “Mom, please don’t leave Dad. Candy can’t bear losing you.” Mom, eyes filled with unshed tears, said softly, “Alright.” Her voice was like a sigh. Mom gave up. I thought this meant she’d stay forever. But little did I know some birds can’t be caged—their very feathers shine with freedom.

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I was at the County Clerk’s Office, filing for divorce, when I accidentally dropped a positive pregnancy test. Just like that, everyone knew I was pregnant. My husband, Lucas Sullivan, stared at the test, his gaze darkening, and through gritted teeth, he managed to say, “You…” Panicked, I quickly blurted out, “Let me explain! This baby isn’t yours!” “Chloe Collins!” That day, Lucas confiscated our marriage certificate, grabbed my hand, and without a word, dragged me home. I knew I had really ticked him off. But I wasn’t sure if I could handle his wrath. In reality, this child—well, I had tricked my way into it. I didn’t think of it as Lucas’s baby; to me, this was my baby. Lucas and I had a marriage of convenience, arranged for business reasons. Before we got married, we’d already signed the divorce papers. Last month, the contract expired, and naturally, since his “first love,” Madeline Collins, had returned from abroad, it was time for us to part ways. But why should I let him go that easily? I’d spent over a decade loving this man, and I wasn’t about to hand him back to that woman without a fight! No way! “Lucas, fine, we’ll divorce, but if my second husband finds out I’m still a virgin, he’ll think I was ditched because I’m not attractive enough!” I took two steps forward, hooked my finger around his tie, and gently pulled him closer. His cold, chiseled face loomed in front of me. I’d practiced this seductive move in front of the mirror a dozen times, even popped a strawberry-flavored mint for good measure. “Come on, Mr. Sullivan, do me this one last favor. I promise, after that, we’ll head straight to the Clerk’s Office.” My heart pounded as his dark eyes locked onto mine, making me feel as though he could see right through me. No backing out now! This is my only shot! Push him down! Get him into bed! Just as I was about to make the first move, desperately recalling everything I’d crammed from those imported South Korean romance dramas, he acted. Effortlessly, Lucas scooped me up, his heated, toned muscles pressing against me through his shirt. After two years of marriage, this was my first time in his room. It was as minimalistic and organized as I’d imagined—just like him. He tossed me onto his sleek black bed, then began unbuttoning his shirt right in front of me. His powerful chest muscles peeked through the opening. And below that, a perfectly sculpted set of abs… My face flushed. If I were a kettle, I’d probably be whistling from the steam by now! How could a man so distant and refined be so rough once he took his clothes off? I regretted it for a second. But then… hmm, maybe not… Oh no, I’m regretting it again! I spent an entire day in bed recovering, but at least it happened. The next day, we submitted the divorce papers. There’s a one-month waiting period. So, technically, this child is still mine. I just want to take my baby and leave. End my long, bitter crush with a final period.

After we returned from the Clerk’s Office, Lucas seemed deep in thought. He stood by the window like a statue for what felt like an eternity before finally turning around and pulling me from my chair. “We’re going to the hospital.” I jerked back in panic. Hospital? Did he want to get rid of my baby? “No! I’m not going, even if you drag me there!” But he didn’t stop. His grip was firm, and despite my resistance, he carried me out of the house like I was a child. Sharing his body heat as we moved in sync, part of me wished the hospital wasn’t our destination. I could’ve stayed wrapped in his arms forever. At the entrance of the private hospital, after another struggle, Lucas finally got me into the maternity ward. It was all because of the words he whispered in my ear. “Be good. Listen.” His voice was both soothing and seductive, sending shivers from my ear straight to my heart. Pressed up against him, I felt like I was short-circuiting, and before I knew it, I let go of the door. Ugh… beauty is my downfall. Lucas registered me with a specialist. The doctor’s name was familiar. Madeline Collins. Lucas’s first love! She wasn’t beautiful in the same way I was. Her charm was in her gentle grace, her soft, serene smile, and her ever-tidy appearance that radiated a warm, morning light. “Chloe, you’re three weeks pregnant…” Her hand trembled slightly as she held the ultrasound report, but she smiled anyway. This was the kind of woman Lucas liked. Meanwhile, I used my cold, cruel words to protect my fragile pride. My mom had been the other woman, who had taken Madeline’s mother’s place in the Collins family. I was the shameless younger sister who had stolen Madeline’s engagement to Lucas. I was lucky enough to inherit my mother’s looks—seductive, cunning—and managed to steal two short years with Lucas in the shadows of my long, dreary life. Lucas’s brows furrowed—always a sign that he was annoyed. I’d been prepared for this, but it still hurt to see how angry my pregnancy made him. He stood up, brushed past me, and walked over to Madeline. Was he really that eager to comfort another woman right in front of me? We weren’t even divorced yet! Gently, he took the ultrasound printout from Madeline’s hands and straightened it out, his voice cold. “You creased it.” He pressed it down a few more times, but there were still fingerprints. He turned to Madeline and said seriously, “Print another one.” Me: ??? What kind of plot twist was this? His OCD was acting up at a time like this? For the first time, Madeline’s flawless smile faltered. “Lucas, I didn’t mean to.” Lucas’s gaze shifted to her. “My mom only had one child.” Then, without a hint of sarcasm, he added, “Are you my dad’s illegitimate daughter?” Tears welled up in Madeline’s eyes. “You’re being too harsh! I’ll tell your father!” Lucas nodded, “Feel free.”

I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. It was rare to see Madeline, that self-righteous woman, getting her comeuppance. If I didn’t know any better, I’d question if she was really Lucas’s first love. He hated being called “brother,” and he’d only ever been special to her. I used to call him “Lucas, my dear brother,” when I was trailing after him. He’d snapped at me with a warning, “Don’t call me brother. I will never be your brother!” After that, I buried my feelings even deeper, my unrequited love hidden away. By the time we got home, I still felt like I was floating in a daze, like I was walking on clouds, not sure if any of it was real. Lucas hadn’t forced me to get rid of the baby. In fact, he had carried me back in his arms with such care, like I was something precious. He even knelt down in front of me, those hands—hands that wielded power, commanded respect—gently slipping off my high heels and replacing them with soft, cozy slippers. No artisan in the world could have crafted hands as perfect as his. It was like they carried some sort of magic, pulling my gaze to them over and over again. What on earth was happening? This world had turned upside down! Two years of marriage, and we had barely even held hands, but on the day we were meant to finalize our divorce, he carried me twice and even changed my shoes! “Stop wearing high heels for now. They’re too risky.” He looked up at me as I sat on the bench, his gaze warm and tender. Lucas had these eyes that were both elegant and intense. Normally, he seemed cool and detached, but when he looked at you like that, you felt utterly adored. I nodded eagerly. At that moment, I would have agreed to anything. Heck, if he’d told me to eat my shoes, I’d have done it without a second thought! Lucas took the ultrasound print and framed it carefully, placing it in the most prominent spot in the living room. Then he had someone send over a massive stack of books: Pregnancy Guide, Tales for Baby, Child Psychology… It hit me then: I was gaining some prestige, thanks to this baby. Even Lucas, the powerful CEO, was now doting on me because of the child I carried. I hesitated before speaking. “So, about the divorce…” Lucas had been organizing the books, but at the sound of my voice, he froze and looked up quickly. My goodness. Was that… nervousness I saw in his eyes? The almighty Lucas Sullivan was worried? He stared at me, his throat working as if he were struggling with what to say. For a moment, he seemed almost… hurt. It was so brief, but it made my heart ache. Softening my voice, I sighed. “Let’s wait until after the baby is born, okay?” “Okay,” he agreed without hesitation. Everything seemed to be about the baby now. But for some reason, it only made me feel worse.

But it’s fine. The law says that for the first two years, custody automatically goes to the mother. Even if we divorce, he’ll have to see me if he wants to visit the baby. That means Lucas and I will be tied together, forever. Thinking about it like that, staying connected through the child seemed like a better deal than running away while pregnant! However, life has a funny way of knocking you down when you’re flying too high. My pregnancy symptoms hit hard, and by the time I was five months along, I couldn’t keep anything down. I lost over fifteen pounds, and I was barely surviving on medication. One day, after throwing up my favorite steamed cod for the third time, I broke down in tears. Lucas didn’t even flinch. Instead, he calmly wiped my face with a warm towel, treating me like I was a delicate piece of art. Between sobs, I whimpered, “Lucas, if I keep vomiting like this, the baby won’t survive. I really, really want this baby.” “I know,” he whispered. He pulled me against him, gently stroking my back, then slowly helped me drink small sips of water. The bitterness in my mouth began to fade, and my emotions gradually settled. It was then I realized how intimate our position was. If I tilted my head just a little, I could hear his heartbeat. Before I could act on the thought, Lucas called for the housekeeper to take me back to my room to rest. Ugh. He could talk for hours with Madeline, but when it came to me, all I got were “mm-hm’s,” “okay’s,” and “I know.” Was I really that bad? And come on, with that cold demeanor, how had Madeline even handled him? She wasn’t exactly curvy… While my thoughts spiraled, I suddenly got a message. It was from Madeline. She didn’t say anything—just sent a picture. It was a medical report. I didn’t understand most of the jargon, but the last line stood out: “Infertility suspected. IVF recommended.” The world around me seemed to dim. The report was Madeline’s. That means… she can’t have children. And Lucas—he must know. So… the baby inside me… was it meant for her all along?

Shaking, I forced myself to get up and go find Lucas. To make things easier for me, he had moved his bedroom from across the hall to the one right next to mine. The door was slightly ajar, and when I peeked inside, I saw him holding that pregnancy guide again, carefully taking notes. Once, I would’ve thought it was sweet, but now, it just felt cruel. “Lucas, you deserve an Oscar. You should’ve gone into acting, not business.” He quickly shut the book, his handsome face flushing slightly. He looked at me, and for a moment, his expression froze. “You’re not wearing slippers.” He turned to leave, but I grabbed his arm. “Is it true that Madeline can’t have children?” In the scuffle, the book slipped from his grasp, falling open on the floor. He quickly covered my eyes with his hand. “Don’t look…” What were they hiding? Had they done something even worse behind my back? If he didn’t want me to see it, I definitely had to. I forced his hand away and glanced down. My face immediately turned red. A line of text had been circled in red ink: “Safe to resume intercourse after three months of pregnancy.” Next to it, Lucas had written detailed notes, citing references and expert advice. He hurriedly picked up the book and locked it in a drawer, but my mind was still spinning with his scribbled handwriting, all those notes, and… those memories. His taut muscles, the beads of sweat, and those… intimate sounds. But all of it—everything he’d done for me—had been for someone else. All I’d been was a stand-in for another woman. “Chloe, you’re bleeding.” Bleeding? I touched my nose. It didn’t seem like I was… “Don’t worry. I’ll get you to the hospital right away!”

Drip… drip… I felt something warm trickling down my leg onto the floor… My stomach tightened, a dull pain spreading. I clasped my hands over my belly. “The baby…” “Breathe. Relax your body as much as you can.” Lucas’s voice was soothing, like he was guiding me through a crisis. I followed his rhythm, slowly calming down. Thump, thump, thump. Was that my heartbeat or his? I looked up, only able to make out his strong jaw, the tight set of his lips, and the muscles straining along his neck… “Don’t be afraid, Chloe.” “I won’t let anything happen to you.” Through the haze, I stared up at him. “Lucas, did you only want this baby because Madeline can’t have one?” “This is our child. It has nothing to do with her.” And just like that, I started crying uncontrollably. All the tension, the fear—it melted away like falling into warm water, soothing and comforting me. The hospital was chaos—flashes of light, shadows of blue and green. Then, the world went dark. I had a long, long dream. In the dream, I went back two years to when Madeline had first gone abroad. Just as I was about to celebrate, I got another bombshell of news: Lucas was leaving the country, too! His family business was in biotechnology, but he was going to France—wine, steak, luxury—just to chase after Madeline. If that wasn’t love, I didn’t know what was. Two years ago, I was full of youthful energy, determined not to give up. I wasn’t going to sit by and let him get away. I secretly followed him and booked the same flight. I didn’t dare fly first class, though, so I slummed it in economy, hoping not to get caught. But as soon as we landed, I realized just how stupid I’d been. I was terrible at languages—I barely spoke English, let alone French—and I’d lost track of him at the airport. What if I got kidnapped by some human traffickers? I was young and pretty—what if they sold me into a brothel or, worse, harvested my organs? I was about to cry when a deep, familiar voice spoke from behind me. “What are you doing here?” It was Lucas. If I listened closely, I could hear a faint tremor in his voice. “Lucas!” I whirled around and threw myself at him. “I was so scared! I thought I’d never see you again…” His body went rigid. “Let go.” It was like a bucket of cold water had doused my excitement, and the joy of seeing him vanished instantly.

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My rich, bankrupt boyfriend disappeared for three months, and I went crazy searching the entire city for him. I even took up a job as a delivery driver, just to roam the streets hoping to catch a glimpse of him. One day, while running an errand to deliver a document, I saw him by chance. He was dressed in tailored designer wear, calmly bidding on an antique. Thirty million dollars. The woman next to him smiled sweetly, “As expected, Jack Stevens is always so generous.” He pinched her cheek affectionately. Someone nearby chimed in, “Jack’s also got a soft heart. Not long ago, he finally cut ties with that small-town girl.” I shifted my gaze, and then… he saw me. And everything descended into chaos. “Twenty million.” “Twenty-three million.” The bidding war was intense, voices rising one after another. I stood at the door, able to see everything clearly inside. Soon, a young man in a suit rushed over, beads of sweat on his forehead. “Good, I made it just in time.” Wearing my delivery uniform, I handed over the document with a smile. “If you need something delivered, you can count on me for punctuality and speed.” I had marked this delivery as urgent, hoping to leave a good impression. The young man glanced at me. “Alright, come in for a drink of water, but remember, don’t disturb the big shots in there.” He led me carefully through a corridor beside the hall. As we passed by, I noticed a European-style window on the wall. It wasn’t fully closed, and I caught a glimpse inside. A hand was raised, signaling something. It was holding a red string. The light hit it just right, creating a stark contrast. I flinched, instinctively hiding behind the wall. “Hey, what’s going on in there?” I asked with a forced smile, trying my best to look naive. He raised an eyebrow. “Rich people’s games.” Just as he said that, the auctioneer’s hammer came down. “Thirty million! Congratulations, Mr. Stevens.” The young man sighed, “This Jack Stevens, don’t be fooled by his youth—he’s a big deal.” “All that for an heirloom necklace, and he just raised the price to thirty million like it was nothing.” I pretended not to hear, but my heart clenched tightly. Jack Stevens? Wasn’t he… bankrupt?

Since Jack disappeared in the middle of the night, I’d been searching for him for three whole months. I quit my other jobs, focusing solely on being a delivery driver. Every time I delivered an order, I’d sneak a look around. I even scoured the local news every day, terrified I might see him in a headline. Inside, the auction was still lively. The lights all focused on that necklace, the diamonds reflecting a dazzling array of colors. They burned my eyes. I didn’t go in to confront him. Instead, I stole another glance through the window. He was dressed in tailored luxury wear, slightly turned to the side, patiently speaking with the woman next to him. She was nothing like me, who was always grimy and exhausted. The woman had long, wavy seaweed-green hair, her makeup flawless. Even without the lights, she was radiant. The man beside them, I knew—it was Victor Lewis, his childhood friend. They were chatting happily, as if the thirty million was just a number. “Still the same guy, big spender like back in the day. He sure doesn’t look like the man who hung around that broke girl.” Jack playfully pushed Victor’s forehead. “Don’t remind me. I almost forgot what it felt like to spend money.” The woman beside him laughed. “Thirty million, and Jack still thinks it’s not enough?” She leaned closer, and even from afar, I could catch a whiff of her perfume. “How about buying me a pair of earrings next?” Her eyes sparkled with a sultry charm. “You completed the task I gave you, after all. I wouldn’t leave you empty-handed.” Victor laughed exaggeratedly. “Man, if that broke girl knew this was all a game for your amusement, she’d probably be fuming.” The woman’s expression remained indifferent. “Cinderella must face reality eventually.” Jack pinched her cheek with a doting smile. “Spoiled since childhood.” She pouted. “Fine, go wash off that woman’s scent, or tonight won’t be so pleasant for you.” I saw a flicker of desire in Jack’s eyes. I’d seen that look so many times before. “Is that so?” They exchanged a smile, the possessiveness in his gaze completely unguarded. Victor chuckled. “Cindy, you were the one who told him to date that poor girl, but now you’re the one who can’t stand her. Haven’t changed a bit, have you?” “That was then,” she glanced toward the window, as if she saw me. I stepped back instinctively. I shouldn’t have kept watching, but I couldn’t help it. I saw her mouth the words: “But now, he’s mine.”

Jack Stevens had always been sharp. In the next second, our eyes met. Panic rose in me, and I quickly turned to leave. I heard a chair scrape against the floor inside, followed by hurried footsteps. Just as I was about to walk away, Jack grabbed my arm. “Mr. Stevens,” I muttered, looking down. My eyes fell on the red string around his wrist. It looked completely out of place. “Nina, what are you doing here?” I sniffed. “Can’t you see for yourself, Mr. Stevens?” Victor and Cindy had followed us outside. “No, I must be blind.” Their stares made me feel humiliated. The slogan on my blue delivery uniform was clear for all to see. Jack furrowed his brows, while Cindy stomped her foot. “Jack, don’t tell me you actually like her?” Like she was scalded, Jack instantly let go of my hand. Then, he pulled a card from his pocket. “It’s a supplementary card, linked to mine. Take it.” I didn’t take it, just stared coldly at the card. “Mr. Stevens, what’s this? Compensation?” I scoffed, “The shabby things in my studio flat aren’t worth enough for you to use that card.” Jack grew more irritated. “Then what do you want?” What do I want? How could he have the nerve to ask? I nearly doubled over with laughter, coldly addressing him and the two people standing behind him. “I told you, Jack Stevens, I hate being lied to.” Cindy curled her lips. “What a hassle.” Her voice wasn’t loud, but it was just the right volume for me to hear. She was speaking to me. “Cindy, don’t say things like that,” Jack snapped, like he was scolding a spoiled child.

I’ve heard words like that before. When I was younger and we had guests over, my cousin Brian would always dig through my room, searching for “treasures.” The drawings I had spent days working on, and the paints my parents had saved up to buy me, would be ruined in seconds—smeared all over. Even my face would end up painted with streaks of color. Then Granny Janine would come in, smiling while trying to clean up the mess. “Oh, my sweet boy, you’re such a rascal,” she would say, holding him tight. “Next time, don’t do that, okay?” She pretended to be stern, but it never worked. Just like now. Jack had stopped Cindy from saying anything worse, but his indulgence only made her more brazen. Cindy made a silly face at him and reluctantly turned away, pouting. Victor stepped in to lighten the mood. “Alright, alright, it’s getting late. Jack, let’s not keep her from working.” I took off my uniform jacket and threw it at them, hard. “Since he’s alive, there’s no need for me to keep doing this job.” Jack stiffened, his expression growing colder by the second. I imagine no one had ever treated him like this before. The streetlights flickered on as I rode my bike home. Wearing my helmet, my vision blurred slightly. I suddenly remembered the first time I met Jack Stevens. He was standing there, dressed in a crisp white shirt, with the golden sunlight pouring over him. His brown eyes seemed to be sprinkled with specks of gold. “Freshman?” He was one of the senior students welcoming us. “Interested in joining the student council?” And that’s how I ended up in the same department as him. It was only natural that I got his contact information. The first time I messaged him, my hands wouldn’t stop trembling. What was I supposed to say? I didn’t know. From the moment I woke up that day, I rehearsed over and over again, until the lights went out that night. All I managed to type were three dry words. “Hi, senior.” It seemed like he had his phone in hand, because he replied quickly. “Still awake?” But now, when I open our chat window, it’s just me—talking to myself. Line after line of green bubbles mocking me. How could someone like that ever fall for me? Turns out, from the very beginning, he had a plan.

Jack and I got together on the day he graduated. He had drunk a lot that night. He was stumbling as he walked out. I gathered my courage and chased after him. He couldn’t seem to focus on anything, and before I knew it, he had grabbed my wrist and pressed me against the wall. “Do you want to date?” His eyes were hazy, his gaze seductive, a lazy charm radiating from him. And for some reason, I agreed. Who would have thought that Jack wouldn’t regret it? So, I worked even harder. Even though my earnings were meager, at least I could have some pride. But Jack was so extravagant. One of his shirts cost me a year’s salary. Yet, he would only pat my head and say, “Nina, you’re amazing.” Just that one sentence would keep me going for a long time. But that didn’t last long. His family went bankrupt. His parents ran away to escape their debts. When I found out, I rushed to find him. He was sitting at the entrance of their mansion, surrounded by nothing. He looked up at me, the streetlight casting a long shadow behind him. He looked so cold, so alone. “Leave. I have nothing left to give you.” I cried and laughed at the same time. For the first time, I sat down beside him, looping my arm through his. “It’s okay. From now on, I’ll take care of you.” He shifted slightly, and then came the flood of kisses. Our breaths mingled. It was one of the few intimate moments we ever shared.

Back in my tiny studio flat, traces of Jack were still everywhere. The ceramic bowls we made together, the coasters we wove, and our matching slippers. I packed everything away one by one. And that’s when I realized—we didn’t even have a single photo together. A thought formed in my mind. Maybe Jack had known all along that this was just a game. That’s why he didn’t want to leave any proof of our relationship. I opened his Instagram profile. There wasn’t a single post about me. It was as if we had never officially been together. Our relationship had begun out of nowhere, and now it was ending just as mysteriously. I clipped my bangs behind my ears and washed my face. Cold water soaked my cheeks, and the scar on my forehead stood out clearly. I closed my eyes and was transported back to the car accident. At the time, Jack had gone out to buy me a cake. A car came speeding by, and I pushed him out of the way with all my strength. I was the one who got hit, and though the physical wounds had healed over time, the scar on my forehead never fully went away. How foolish. For the first time, I used concealer. It was as if I were trying to fill the hole left in my heart. Or maybe, I was just deceiving myself. My hand trembled violently as I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I almost couldn’t hold onto the makeup brush. A car horn sounded outside, and I jumped. The brush slipped from my hand into the sink, soaked with water. Nina, you’re such a failure. All the disappointment and anxiety I had bottled up finally erupted. I wasn’t even sure why I was crying. Was it because my hands could barely hold a pen? Or was it because of this secret relationship that no one knew about? I curled up, slowly sliding down to the floor, my back against the wall. I don’t know how long I stayed there. The silhouette of the window merged with the darkness outside. Finally, I moved my dry lips. Jack Stevens, I don’t want you anymore. From today on, this is goodbye.

Truth be told, Jack Stevens didn’t have many things left here. It took just two hours to clear everything out. I called the junk man, Mr. Davinson, and handed over everything in one go. The apartment felt clean all of a sudden. No more pairs of things—no more signs of us. It was refreshing. I tidied up a bit, ready to start looking for a new job the next day. Then a message came in. It was a photo. Jack was lying in Cindy’s arms, his eyes half-closed. Behind them was the luxurious setting of a private lounge, the kind dripping with decadence. The dim lighting cast a seductive glow over Jack’s face. A side of him I had never seen before. Cindy didn’t add any words to the message. But it was enough. The message was clear: Jack Stevens was hers. After the emotional rollercoaster earlier, I felt… nothing. I deleted the photo, my expression blank as I started making myself a bowl of noodles. I’d cried over him once. That was enough. Crying over a man? Now that would be foolish. The noodles were just about ready when my phone rang. A number I didn’t recognize. “Hey, Nina—no, wait, poor little Nina,” came Victor’s booming voice from the other end. “Jack’s drunk and insists you come pick him up. Better hurry.” I took a bite of my noodles. “Jack Stevens? I don’t know him.” “What are you talking about? If you don’t come soon, the place will close, and Jack will be sleeping on the street.” “Then let him sleep there,” I said, finishing the noodles in just a few more bites. “It’d be better if he just died.” Victor was still talking, but I hung up before he could waste any more of my time. What a waste of a phone call. I turned my phone off and enjoyed one of the best night’s sleeps I’d had in a while. When I woke up the next morning, sunlight poured through the window, filling the room. Turns out, when I’m not worrying about Jack Stevens, I can sleep perfectly fine. This was the first day without him, and even the bed felt bigger than it used to. I was just about to get out of bed when I saw a head pop out from the bathroom.

“Nina, where’s all my stuff?” I froze on the spot. My body trembled involuntarily. “What are you doing here?” Jack was drying his face with a towel. “I’ve got a key. Why wouldn’t I come home?” His casual tone and the way he acted like nothing had happened yesterday shocked me. Barefoot, he walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, looking a bit uncomfortable. “I drank too much last night. Give me a massage, would you?” I could hardly believe his audacity. He had a new woman now, yet he still thought he could order me around like before. I backed away, my face cold. “Jack Stevens, what are you trying to do?” Jack hesitated, then resumed his usual soft demeanor. “Nina, what are you talking about? Come on, help me out.” He reached for my hand, but I pulled away immediately. A flash of disappointment crossed his eyes, but he quickly covered it up, trying to act nonchalant. “Oh, I noticed a lot of things missing from the apartment. How about we go shopping later?” He moved closer, flashing me that boyish grin I used to love. “You can help me pick stuff out.” Jack raised his eyebrows, still carrying that youthful charm. It was the look I once adored. But now, looking at him, all I felt was disgust. He hadn’t even bothered to wash off Cindy’s perfume. “Jack, this isn’t your place anymore.” My voice was ice-cold. “Leave the key and get out.” His lips quivered slightly, a hint of panic creeping into his expression. “But Nina, you said… you said this was our home.” His skin must be thicker than I imagined. Suddenly, something clicked in his mind, and he asked, “Is this about Cindy?”

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“I need to go on a work trip for a month. Could you come by my place to feed my cat? Also, the mango juice in the fridge is about to expire.” At two in the morning, I was jolted awake by my phone vibrating. I grabbed my phone and saw it was a message from my best mate, Chloe. The next moment, I was wide awake and drenched in cold sweat. First, she’s a freelancer, so there’s no such thing as a work trip for her. Second, she doesn’t have a cat. Third, she’s allergic to mangoes. “Emma, I need to go on a work trip for a month. Could you come by my place to feed my cat? Also, the mango juice in the fridge is about to expire.” At two in the morning, I was jolted awake by my phone vibrating. I picked up my phone from the bedside and saw it was a message from my best friend, Chloe Harris. I’m a light sleeper; it’s no exaggeration to say that if a pin dropped in the night, I’d wake up immediately. Chloe knew this all too well, which is why she never texts me in the middle of the night. In the next second, I suddenly realized something, and sleep fled from me, replaced by a wave of cold fear. I’ve known Chloe for over a decade; she’s my closest friend, and nobody understands her better than I do. First, she’s a freelancer; there’s no such thing as a work trip for her. Second, she doesn’t have a cat. Third, she’s allergic to mangoes. Recently, Chloe and I watched a film about the safety of women living alone, which included a plot point where two best mates had a secret code in case they were in danger. “Emma, if I ever send you a strange message, you must come and save me.” My heart raced, and I instinctively reached for Chloe’s number to call her. But I quickly realized she was hinting at something alarming rather than directly telling me what was happening, which could only mean that the attacker was right next to her, watching her every move. At two-thirty in the morning, it seemed like the power was out, and everything was pitch black outside. In the darkness, it felt as though countless eyes were watching me, my heart racing wildly, the strong beats echoing in my ears, as if they might burst from my chest. I hurriedly grabbed my medication from the drawer and swallowed a couple of pills dry, taking a while to regain my composure. Once I calmed down, I called James Thornton first, then reported it to the police. James is my boyfriend—he’s smart and tall. Whether I’m facing the police or going to find Chloe, I always feel safer with him by my side. As soon as I saw James, I rushed into his arms, crying uncontrollably. “Emma, don’t be scared. I’m here; no one will hurt you again,” James murmured, patting my back softly. Inhaling his subtle scent, my fear gradually dissipated. Thank goodness I have James. About five minutes later, the police arrived. I sat on the sofa, listening to James talk to them. “Emma Smith?” said one of the officers, his voice laced with surprise. I looked up to the door and was astonished to see a familiar face. It was David Collins. What a coincidence; David and I go way back. We were classmates in secondary school, and he was technically my first love. However, the circumstances of our breakup were rather tragic, something I’ve never forgotten. We were young and didn’t understand much. The kind of childish romance we had didn’t hold any weight. Even so, seeing David now brought an inexplicable awkwardness. David was all business, though, and had no intention of reminiscing. He said matter-of-factly, “We understand the situation. We’re going to Chloe’s house now.” “I’m coming with you,” I said, summoning my courage. David shot me a disapproving glance, as if he thought I’d just complicate things. James also advised, “I know you’re worried about Chloe, but this is something the police should handle.” I bit my lip stubbornly and insisted, “Chloe is my best friend. I need to see her safe before I can relax. Plus, I have her keys; I can help.” Seeing my determination, James and David had no choice but to relent. They both knew I’m quite stubborn about what I set my mind on. Reluctantly, David allowed James and me to tag along.

Chloe lived in an upscale house as a standard wealthy second-generation; her security system was top-notch. David immediately instructed his team to pull up the surveillance footage, and he followed James and me straight to Chloe’s flat. As we reached the front door, we caught a whiff of something metallic in the air. I shuddered, a sense of foreboding washing over me. My breathing quickened as I fumbled for the keys in my bag. The more anxious I became, the less I could think clearly. The keys, usually on the outside of my bag, were nowhere to be found. Seemingly sensing my fear, James wrapped his arms around me from behind, whispering, “Emma, don’t be scared. I’m here.” I took a few deep breaths, forcing myself to stay calm, and finally found the keys, handing them to David. David shot me an irritated glance, likely thinking I was taking too long, but he didn’t say anything and turned to open the door. Chloe’s house was dark, and the sharp, metallic scent made it hard to breathe. I stared at the closed door, an inexplicable panic gripping me, as if some monstrous beast was about to leap out from the darkness. I clutched James’s arm tightly, hoping it would somehow comfort me. When the door swung open, David stepped inside first, fumbling for the light switch in the living room. What I saw in the centre of the room would haunt me forever. Chloe was dead. In her own living room, in a grotesquely violent manner. She was nailed to a cross in a kneeling position, her face mutilated, and her body stabbed numerous times, blood splattered everywhere. I screamed in terror and nearly collapsed. Fortunately, James caught me just in time and pulled out his medication, handing it to me. After taking the pills, I felt a bit better, but I was still sobbing uncontrollably. “It’s all my fault. I came too late. If I’d come earlier…” David stood a few feet away, shooting me a glare. “The killer is exceptionally brutal. If you’d arrived sooner, there would have been another body to contend with.” I felt sheepish. David always had a sharp tongue, just like before. That was just typical. The police quickly cordoned off the area with tape. The officer who went to review the footage returned empty-handed. “The cameras nearby were damaged.” I sat dazed on the steps, feeling lost. To lose my best friend like this, at home, was unbearable for anyone. While I was lost in thought, a furry head suddenly appeared in front of me, startling me out of my wits. Thankfully, James was right there, pulling me into his embrace. “Come back, you silly dog!” David called sternly. I realized it was just a police dog. “I’m sorry; Emma is scared of dogs. Could you please keep it on a tight leash?” I heard James’s displeased voice. David held the leash, casting me a contemplative glance. I imagined he was thinking about when I had started fearing dogs. After all, back when we dated, we had adopted a puppy together. But people change. As the one who reported the incident, David proceeded to question me alone. “What was your relationship with the deceased, Chloe Harris?” “She’s my best friend.” I thought, he should know this without asking, considering we were all secondary school classmates, and I’ve been closest to Chloe since then. Rather than saying she was my best friend, I should say she was my only friend.

My dad was a gambling addict and a deadbeat; my mum ran an unlicensed massage shop in town. Somehow, the news leaked out, and the whole school knew, leaving no one willing to befriend me except Chloe. Having Chloe by my side made my entire youth feel less bleak. She was more important to me than my estranged parents. “What did she do for a living? Did she have any enemies?” “She was a culinary influencer. She rarely got into disputes with anyone, and I truly can’t think of anyone who would hate her enough to kill her so brutally.” As I spoke, my voice trembled, and I buried my face in my hands. “Did she have any romantic entanglements?” I racked my brain for a while, shaking my head in confusion. “I don’t know; I never really pried into her love life.” “Aren’t you best friends?” David squinted slightly. I felt a bit awkward. “Even best friends don’t share everything, do they?” David didn’t respond and continued, “What about you? What do you do for a living now?” I hesitated before replying honestly, “I just resigned recently; I’m currently unemployed.” “Why did you resign?” “David, does your line of questioning even relate to Chloe’s death, or do you suspect I’m the killer?” I felt angry, but David remained coldly objective. “Chloe died in her home; there were no signs of forced entry. The killer might have been someone she knew—someone she let in, or someone who had a key to her house.” “You mentioned when you called the police that you received a strange text from Chloe, but we didn’t find her phone at the scene.” At this point, I realized he genuinely suspected me. I let out a bitter laugh. “So you think that I, without a stable job or income, killed my friend out of jealousy because she had a better life than mine?” “Answer my question.” His tone was devoid of warmth. I relented. “Fine. I resigned because I have an anxiety disorder that makes it difficult for me to live and work normally.” I looked down, not wanting to see pity in his eyes. To be honest, his lack of trust made me feel rather down. But then again, when we were together, he never really trusted me fully either. To him, I was merely a familiar stranger; why would he believe what I said? David scrutinized me, as if trying to detect any signs of guilt or panic on my face. We sat in silence for what felt like an eternity until he suddenly pulled out an evidence bag and placed it gently on the table. “This phone is yours, isn’t it?” It was an outdated model. The screen lit up, revealing my selfie on the display. Given Chloe’s background, there was no way she would use such a cheap phone; hers had always been the latest model. I stared at the phone for a long moment before nodding. “Yes, it’s mine.” “Can you explain why your phone was found at the crime scene?” David pressed.

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My mum had been widowed for years, but all of a sudden, she turned into a hopeless romantic. She became the other woman, fully aware of the man’s marriage, and in the end, she actually succeeded in winning over a married man. After living through it once, I swore I wouldn’t let my family be her emotional collateral again. But then, she ended up killing the man she loved with her own hands. 1、 Granny sighed with both concern and frustration. “What on earth is your mum thinking? Leaving you at home with a fever like this and running off, completely neglecting you.” I lay weakly on the hospital bed. “Mum’s gone to bring food to Mr. Dean. Granny, don’t be too hard on her.” “It’s just a fever,” I muttered, trying to make excuses for her, “I’ll be fine after taking some medicine.” I was pale, my voice hoarse, yet I still defended my mum. Mr. Dean was Mum’s new match from an arranged date. After my dad passed away two years ago, Granny had introduced James Dean to her. Mum fell for James at first sight, but she had no idea he already had a wife. James’s wife, Martha, was terminally ill. She wanted to find him a good woman who could take care of him and their son after she passed. It was her dying wish. And so, James had reluctantly agreed to start dating again. As absurd as the whole situation was, Mum sympathized with James. She thought it showed he had a strong sense of responsibility. Granny had scolded everyone involved—Mum, James, and the matchmaker. If it hadn’t been for me ending up in the hospital with a fever, Granny might have never found out they were still seeing each other. Mrs. Daisy Fletcher, our neighbour, sighed as she stood nearby. “If that poor child hadn’t crawled out of the house on her own, who knows what would’ve happened.” “She hasn’t even gotten a new stepdad yet, but it seems she’s already got a new stepmum.” Granny stroked my head gently and sighed again. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I lowered my head. But inside, I was laughing coldly. In my past life, Mum had thrown one sentence at me before rushing out of the door: “Lizzy, you’re old enough now to understand. Mr. Dean needs me, and I’ve got to help him.” She’d hurried off to bring James his food, leaving me at home, burning up with a fever that wouldn’t break. I’d tried to call for an ambulance, but I couldn’t find my phone. By the time she’d taken me to the hospital, the damage was done—my brain was permanently affected, and I became… slow. But this time, I’d fought through the fever, dragged myself to the door, and crawled out into the hallway, where I was lucky enough to run into Mrs. Fletcher… The door to my hospital room creaked open, and Mum barged in, already complaining. “Mum, why didn’t anyone tell me Lizzy had been taken to the hospital?” Mrs. Fletcher, who had long lost patience with Mum, didn’t hold back, not even in front of Granny. “All you ever think about is men. You’ve got no time for your daughter, do you?” “If I hadn’t found Lizzy when I did, her brain might have been damaged beyond repair, and you’d be none the wiser.” “You’re so desperate to please that man, you don’t even care about your own daughter anymore?” Feeling the stares of everyone in the room, Mum flushed with embarrassment but stayed silent. Granny, though annoyed, tried to soften things. “Well, Lizzy said she couldn’t find her phone. Why don’t you give her a call?” Mum, quick to take the lifeline, pretended to rummage through her bag. When she finally pulled out her phone, mine tumbled out with it. A look of guilt flashed across her face. “Ah, I must’ve picked it up by mistake.” And then I understood. Mum knew full well I was burning up with a high fever. But to avoid being disturbed, she’d taken my phone, cutting off my only way to call for help. Granny immediately grasped the situation, her expression turning thunderous. Mrs. Fletcher let out a loud, cold laugh. 2、 During my hospital stay, no one treated Mum with any kindness. After the first couple of days, when she made a brief visit to see me, she spent most of her time rushing off to see James, almost forgetting I existed. Soon enough, I was discharged from the hospital. On that day, Granny made sure to call Mum, warning her to come and collect me. Mum showed up reluctantly. Thanks to Mrs. Fletcher’s talent for gossip, it wasn’t long before Mum’s affair became the talk of Maplewood Estate. As we walked in, I could hear the neighbours gossiping. “I heard from Daisy that Lizzy’s mum’s seeing someone new.” “Well, that’s her choice, but couldn’t she find someone who wasn’t married with kids? Shameful.” “When her husband was alive, he treated her so well. And now she’s neglecting poor Lizzy like this. Disgraceful.” “Ah, she’s back. Best not say more…” Mum, though fuming, couldn’t deny the truth of their words. Granny’s expression grew darker, her silence ominous like the calm before a storm. In my past life, after I became slow, Mum had played the victim, always crying about how tough life was for a widow with a daughter to raise. Everyone pitied her. No one knew that when I’d had a raging fever, Mum was busy trying to please James and his family. Back at home, Granny finally confronted Mum. “So, what’s really going on between you and James Dean?” Mum shifted uncomfortably. “James has had it hard, you know. His wife can’t bear to leave him and their son behind. He just wants to give her peace of mind.” “Mum, do you have any idea how rare it is to find such a responsible man? He’s been so good to his wife, even as she’s dying. Just think how happy we’ll be once we’re married.” “I have to help him, Mum. I can’t let him carry the burden alone.” Mum’s face radiated determination, as if she were some kind of saint. Granny’s legs wobbled, and she sank into the sofa. “This is being a homewrecker. People will talk behind your back for the rest of your life.” “James might be struggling, but what about Lizzy? Doesn’t she deserve better?” By this point, Mum had heard enough. The guilt she’d been carrying had long been replaced by irritation. “James is a single father. He has to work and look after his wife and child. He’s exhausted. I’m just helping out by bringing him food and doing a bit of housework.” “And besides, Lizzy’s fine, isn’t she?” Mum had been spoiled growing up, never having lifted a finger to do chores. Even after marriage, Dad had treated her like a queen, and she’d rarely had to do much housework. Now, out of some misplaced sense of affection, she was playing housekeeper for a man who wasn’t even her husband. What a grand display of love. Granny lost her temper and slapped Mum hard across the face. Mum clutched her cheek, stunned. Then she burst into tears, lamenting how hard it had been since Dad died. While they were distracted, I grabbed Mum’s phone and scrolled through the records. Dozens of bank transfers. Some for thousands, some for tens of thousands. All paid to the hospital. “Mum, Dad’s gone. I can’t lose you too.” Mum panicked, but I held tight, refusing to let her take the phone back. Granny’s anger dissolved as she took the phone from me, her hands trembling. She scanned the screen, reading the records carefully. Her expression softened as she squeezed Mum’s hand. “Don’t be afraid. If you’re ill, we’ll get you treated, even if we have to spend everything we have.” Mum looked down, her lips pressed together in discomfort. 3、 Granny was frantic. She immediately demanded to see Mum’s medical records. Mum, of course, had nothing to show. She stammered and fumbled for an explanation. Granny, not suspecting anything, grabbed her arm. “Come on then, we’re going to the hospital. There’s nothing to be afraid of, Mum’s here with you.” Terrified of the humiliation, Mum glared at me before finally admitting the truth. She had spent Dad’s compensation money. The day Dad died, he’d been driving by The Thames Riverbank when he spotted a child drowning. He saved the boy but didn’t have enough strength left for himself. He drowned. The boy’s parents were wealthy and influential. They gave Mum a two-million-pound compensation payment in private. She hadn’t told anyone about it. That money should have lasted her comfortably for years. But Mum’s romantic obsession had taken over. One day, she found James crying, guilt-ridden that he didn’t have enough money to treat Martha. Seeing him vulnerable, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. So, she decided to help. That was how it started, and soon she had spent over a million on his wife’s medical bills. Later, when Granny and the family struggled financially, Mum didn’t offer a single penny. I only discovered all of this after I died. My soul had wandered aimlessly, watching as Mum and James stood hand-in-hand at Martha’s grave. James had gazed at Mum with deep affection. “Thank goodness for your late husband’s inheritance, Lizzy. It made sure Martha left us with dignity. You’re an angel to our family.” Mum blushed and leaned on James’s shoulder. I had wanted to tear her apart. But my soul slowly faded away… Granny, after hearing the whole story, didn’t even seem angry anymore. Just… disappointed. In her youth, she had lived through the hardships of the post-war period and had seen plenty of men abandon their responsibilities. So, she had always taught me and Mum to love ourselves first before loving anyone else. But Mum clearly hadn’t absorbed that lesson. “Your late husband’s life paid for that money. And this is how you’ve wasted it? Even if you’ve lost your senses, how could you not think of Lizzy?” Granny dragged Mum to The Royal Bank, forcing her to transfer half of the compensation to me. That was one million pounds. I had already looked at Mum’s spending history, though. She had poured hundreds of thousands into Martha’s hospital bills. After transferring that one million, there was hardly anything left. Perhaps realising this, Mum began struggling in front of the cashier. “This is life-saving money! Why are you taking it from me?” she wailed as if she were the victim of a terrible injustice. The bank fell silent. People began taking out their phones to record us. One woman, with a face full of righteousness, stepped in front of Mum to defend her. “Girl, if you’re being wronged, just call the police. This is a law-abiding society; we’ve got nothing to fear!” Granny seemed momentarily stunned by the situation. But I quickly caught on, and my tears began to flow. “Mum, this is Dad’s compensation. Granny said it should be saved for my education. Why did you spend it all on Mr. Dean? Dad, I miss you so much. If you were here, I could go to university…” Sobs wracked my body as I struggled to speak. The people around us began whispering. Their eyes now turned suspiciously towards Mum. Mum, growing desperate, snapped, “Lizzy! Mr. Dean is my friend. What’s wrong with spending some money to help his wife?” “This is all my fault for spoiling you and making you so selfish.” I pretended to be frightened and kept my voice steady. “But you’ve already spent half a million. Last time, you even said Mr. Dean was going to be my new dad. But I don’t want him to be!” Mum, speechless, stood frozen at the counter, weeping uncontrollably. The security guard tried to calm her down, but it was no use. The bank had no choice but to call the police. When the officers arrived, I took the opportunity to speak up. “Officer, I believe my mum is being scammed.” The officers grew serious and escorted us to the police station. James Dean was also summoned. He looked every bit the part of a nondescript middle-aged man—dishevelled hair, a worn expression, and nowhere near as distinguished as Dad had been. I explained the situation simply. “I think he’s been manipulating my mum, tricking her into paying for his wife’s treatment.” Mum was even more panicked than James. “No, no! It was my choice! He didn’t trick me.” Granny glared at James with disgust. “Officer, this man has been using some kind of charm to make my daughter lose her senses. It’s like she’s not herself anymore.” The officer fixed his stern gaze on Mum. “Was this a loan or a gift?” If Mum admitted it was a gift, the police would dig deeper into the case. After all, Mum had no family ties to James, and they’d only known each other for a short time. To anyone looking, this would seem like a clear case of fraud. But James spoke first. “I borrowed it from Sarah.” I interjected. “Where’s the IOU, then?” James hesitated. “It was a verbal agreement. I’ll write one up now.” After that ordeal, Mum looked at me with a coldness that cut deep. Funny, wasn’t it? Her own daughter had become a stranger to her. In my past life, James had spent Mum’s money without a second thought, never once mentioning paying it back. Mum had been delighted, thinking it meant he didn’t see her as an outsider. With the police’s mediation, Mum reluctantly completed the transfer. Granny, not trusting her, insisted that both of us move back into her house. Mum, still bitter, refused. Later, I heard that she couldn’t stand the neighbourhood gossip anymore and had moved into James’s house. She loved him and wanted to save him. So, she began living in his house, paying the bills, doing the laundry, cooking, and looking after his children, all while covering Martha’s medical expenses. People even praised her for it, calling her a “selfless lover.” But, Mum… now that half your money’s gone, will you still be the hero? 4、 That summer, I found peace living at Granny’s house. Without Mum around to constantly drone on about James, my world was finally calm. And Granny made sure to spoil me with delicious meals every day. I was content, focused only on distancing myself from Mum and respecting the fate of others. Uncle Rob still lived with Granny as well. “Big news!” he shouted one morning, bursting into the room with a wide grin. “I finally got the job!” Uncle Rob had just finished his master’s degree and had been job-hunting for months. Ironically, the company that hired him was the same one James worked for. At the time, Martha’s health was deteriorating fast, and James was frequently taking time off to visit the hospital. It seemed like he was on the verge of being fired. Mum had pitifully begged Uncle Rob to help James with his workload. Out of sibling loyalty, Uncle Rob had agreed. But, just as in my past life, the constant overwork had taken a toll on his health. He’d worked himself into the ground with months of overtime. And then he’d dropped dead. Grief-stricken, Grandpa had a stroke, leaving him paralysed. Granny’s hair had turned white overnight. Mum had shed a few tears before returning to James’s side, taking care of him and his family, saying, “James is really struggling with everything. Someone needs to be there for him.” She had left us to handle Uncle Rob’s funeral on our own. I remembered those days vividly—Uncle Rob bringing back treats for me, Granny dressing me up in pretty clothes, and Grandpa taking me for long walks in the park. This time, I would protect my family. That day, someone had recorded Mum’s outburst at The Royal Bank and posted it on TikTok. The marketing accounts quickly picked it up, twisting the story into sensational headlines: “Woman Becomes the Other Woman for Love – What’s So Special About This Man?” “Widow Spends Her Late Husband’s Million-Pound Compensation to Save Her Lover’s Terminally Ill Wife.” The marketing accounts must have paid well because Mum actually agreed to give her side of the story, providing an audio interview for the added drama. “I don’t care if my family doesn’t understand,” she said. “Yes, I love James Dean, but I still have my dignity. I’m not some homewrecker. I just wanted to help fulfil Martha’s final wish.” “The medical bills, I paid them willingly. It was my choice. I just wanted to ease James’s burden a little. He works so hard.” “I know I’m not being scammed. Martha told me herself, before she passed, that James and his son would rely on me after she’s gone.” The interview quickly made the rounds among people who knew Mum. Soon, familiar faces began calling. Grandpa, furious, could barely contain himself. He’d always been a man of pride, and now people were mocking the family, saying we had no moral compass. Granny, too, regretted not raising Mum with more discipline. She’d believed girls should be spoiled, never made to do housework, and given the best of everything. When she’d vetted Dad, she had tested him harshly, only agreeing to the marriage because he was responsible and kind-hearted. Granny had been so sure that Mum, having experienced the best kind of love, wouldn’t fall for some shallow fling. But despite it all, Mum had gone completely off course. 5、 After the summer holidays, I entered my final year of Sixth Form. If everything went well, I could get an automatic offer to university. Returning to school was tough. I wasn’t sure I could maintain my previous academic level, but I knew I had to give it my all. I moved into the school dorms, only coming home once every two weeks. When I did, Uncle Rob joked that I was becoming a rare sight, like a national treasure. But the dark circles under his eyes told a different story. “I’ve been working for two weeks straight,” he said, rubbing his temples. “Finally got a break.” Instantly, I grew anxious and insisted that we go to the hospital for a check-up. The results were as expected—I was simply tired, but Uncle Rob’s health was riddled with problems. He hadn’t even been working that long, but he already looked like he was being ground down. Uncle Rob shrugged it off. “Every young person’s got a bit of wear and tear these days.” But I refused to take it lightly. In my past life, it was overwork that had killed him. I pressed him for details about his job, not letting him get away with vague answers. Uncle Rob hesitated for a while, then finally told me the truth about the overtime. Immediately, I ran to Grandpa and Granny to report what was happening. Granny picked up the phone and called Mum, giving her an earful. Mum broke down into sobs. “Martha’s had several close calls, Mum. James is struggling so much. He’s terrified of not being there for her final moments.” “It’s all going to be one family in the end anyway. Can’t you help me help him?” Granny couldn’t hold back the curses any longer. “Are you out of your mind? What’s James Dean got to do with us? Your brother is young, but his health is falling apart, and you don’t even care?” Mum tried to justify herself. “He’s young. He’ll recover. Mum, are you sure I’m really your daughter?”

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Chris Harper and I had been married for five years, and in that time, he had dated at least ten girlfriends. So when Lily Parker showed up at his side, my friends all told me: “Chris is just having fun. Don’t take it seriously.” But I knew better. Chris was serious this time. More serious than anyone realized. “Hey, I heard it’s your wedding anniversary with Chris today.” “How about we make a bet? Let’s see who can keep Chris. Whoever loses will gracefully step aside.” That popped up in my text messages. It was a challenge from Lily Parker, Chris’s new girlfriend. I thought it was childish, so I didn’t respond. Instead, I smiled and returned to the Grand Ballroom at The Waldorf Astoria, where all eyes were on the star of the night. Chris noticed me immediately and smiled as he walked over, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “You don’t look well.” Our friends nearby cheered us on, saying how Chris and I were still as in love as ever, how our marriage had withstood the test of time. Some joked, urging Chris to treat me well and not regret anything later. Chris navigated the crowd effortlessly, like a fish in water. I stayed by his side, the perfect accessory, putting on the appropriate smile. Halfway through the night, the host grabbed the microphone and invited Chris to come up and say a few words. Chris nodded and turned to me. “I have a gift for you,” he said. I smiled back. “Great.” The next second, his phone rang. The ringtone was jarring. Chris paused, hesitant, but after a moment, he continued toward the stage, picked up the microphone, and finished his greetings to the crowd. His eyes then locked onto mine. “Today is our fifth wedding anniversary.” “You once mentioned liking an island.” “I bought it for you as an anniversary gift.” His assistant handed him a contract, but as soon as it was in his hands, the phone rang again. The ringtone cut through the atmosphere like a knife, and I saw a flash of panic in Chris’s eyes. I turned to look behind me, and my heart skipped a beat. Standing on the outskirts of the crowd was the girl from the profile picture—the one I’d seen in the text message. She stood there, holding her phone, silently mouthing, “Answer it.” Her eyes were bright, but there was a faint mist over them. She mouthed the words again, “Answer the call.” Against my better judgment, I turned back toward Chris. The contract slipped from Chris’s hands as he answered the call. The girl’s voice, strained with emotion, echoed through the ballroom. “Chris.” “I’m breaking up with you.” There was a pause, then she dropped the bomb. “And I’m getting rid of this baby.” “Chris,” she continued in a soft, broken voice. “I don’t want you anymore.” And then, she hung up. The whole room went silent. No one noticed the girl in the simple white dress turning to leave after delivering her message. But Chris did. Not only did he notice, but without hesitation, he threw down the microphone and rushed out of the ballroom. The girl’s earlier challenge echoed in my mind: How about we make a bet? Let’s see who can keep Chris. Suddenly panicked, I lost all sense of decorum. Lifting the hem of my dress, I ran after him. I grabbed his hand, pleading, “Don’t go.” “Chris.” “Please, don’t leave.” I had always been composed, always the graceful Mrs. Harper. I was the girl Chris picked out of all the others in the foster care home, the one he chose to be the wife of the Harper family. I was the one who stayed by his side, even though I knew that our relationship was based more on years of growing up together than on passion. Yet, despite it all, I had fallen hopelessly in love with him. “Chris.” Tears streamed down my face. My voice broke. “Please, don’t leave.”

I held onto Chris’s hand so tightly that I was shaking. Then, I saw the disappointment in his eyes as he turned to face me. “Sarah,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “She’s different from you. She has nothing without me.” “You have everything,” Chris said, gently prying my fingers off. “But she only has me.” He let go of my hand. I fell to the floor, my newly done nails scraping against the carpet, splitting open as blood welled up from the cuts. The pain left me speechless. Chris hesitated for a moment when he saw me on the ground, but then, he turned and walked away. I couldn’t stop him, and I became the joke of the evening. Everyone tried to comfort me. “Chris is just used to running wild. He’s always had his flings.” “If he was going to settle down, he would have done it already.” “Sarah, don’t be upset. You and Chris grew up together. You’ve got years of history. No one can replace that.” “That girl’s just trying to use the baby to climb her way up. You’ve seen girls like her before. Don’t let it bother you.” Everyone kept telling me not to take it seriously. That Chris was just playing around. They told me not to invest my emotions. Some even suggested that I should play the same game, act weak, and beat the other woman at her own game. Everyone had an excuse for Chris. No one wanted to admit that Chris had actually fallen for her. But I knew. Chris was more invested than he’d ever been. The party ended early, and when I got home, Chris still wasn’t back. The maid had already made ginger tea and left it on the dining table. Beside it was a bouquet of roses Chris had bought earlier. The vibrant red of the roses only made me feel more pathetic in the quiet night. I went to the bedroom and saw our wedding photo. For a moment, I felt dazed. I walked over to the nightstand, took down the photo, and began cutting it into pieces with a pair of scissors. Then I smashed everything in the carefully decorated room in a fit of rage. Finally, I collapsed on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. I cried until midnight, when the room was pitch dark. The only light came from my phone, the screen piercing my eyes. I opened the message. It was from Lily. A picture of her and Chris holding hands. Then, a voice message. And some text. The voice message was their conversation. She asked him, “When you left your wife behind, do you think she’ll blame you? Am I being too selfish, forgetting my place?” Without hesitation, Chris responded, “No one is more important than you.” “As long as you’re okay.” “That’s all that matters.” Chris’s voice felt like a thousand needles piercing my body. My chest tightened in pain as I read Lily’s text. You lost. Chris doesn’t love you. Give up your place as Mrs. Harper. Don’t make this messier than it has to be. Chris didn’t come home that night. I didn’t care anymore. I’d cried myself dry. The years we spent growing up together were over, and I was the only one left clinging to the past. It was laughable. As I packed my bags to leave, my phone rang. Chris’s voice came through, hoarse. “Sarah, Lily’s young and immature. You’ve always been the understanding one, but last night, you really crossed the line.” “How could you embarrass me like that?” “I don’t want this to happen again.”

I used to love hearing Chris’s voice. My father was a gambler, and after he lost everything, he tried to force my mother to sell herself to pay off his debts. She refused, and one stormy night, she fled with me. My father chased us through the streets with a knife. In the end, she hid me in a trash bin at the alleyway’s edge, and I watched as my father hacked her to death that night. The downpour. The endless lightning. And my father’s eerie whistling, coaxing me out. Those moments haunted my nightmares for years. Every time there was a thunderstorm, Chris would hold me tight, gently patting my back, whispering, “Sarah, don’t be scared.” “I’m here.” For those years, Chris became my only emotional anchor. Naturally, he became the only light in my life. But last night, even with the storm raging outside and lightning flashing, Chris wasn’t the one comforting me anymore. He’d forgotten that I get scared, forgotten that I need someone too. He could wake up the next morning without any remorse, blaming me for making him look bad. If love is something that builds over time, then not loving is like flipping an hourglass. My hand trembled as I held my phone, staring at the now-clear sky, tears still spilling, my chest aching. But I had to maintain my dignity. I had to hold onto what little composure I had left. So I said to Chris: “The divorce papers are on the table.” “I’ll only take what’s rightfully mine. Nothing more.” Before he could respond, I hung up. I blocked his number and deleted his contact, breathing heavily as I realized that cutting ties with someone you’ve loved for so long was like weaning a child off milk. But that’s okay. I was willing to let time heal me. I was ready to move forward. I’d booked the next available flight. To Portland, Maine. The place I’d once dreamed of moving to with Chris, where I’d imagined us living a simple life. I had asked him once, naively, if we could ever just be a regular couple, living in a small town together until we grew old. Chris had laughed at my innocence but then turned serious. “I don’t want to be ordinary.” “Small-town life comes with no room for error, no risks to take.” “I want to be somebody.” “I want to make you somebody, someone everyone looks up to.” Back then, Chris seemed to glow like a hero—a real-life hero, at least to me. He achieved everything he set out to do. Even though he drifted through countless flings during our five years of marriage, no one dared to speak ill of me. He always protected me, never letting me get hurt by the women who came and went. We had an unspoken agreement. I would fulfill my role as Mrs. Harper, and he would always keep me in the most important spot in his life. That was enough. But I had forgotten something. Human nature is easily tempted. And when a new woman lights a fire in Chris, the flames will spread uncontrollably. My once-brave knight no longer fought for me but instead turned his sword toward me. I chose not to fight back. I chose to walk away, giving them what they wanted. And giving myself the freedom I needed.

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