Category: English

  • My Late Sister’s Husband Wants Me to Stay, But I’m Flying to London

    At the Thanksgiving dinner table, my mom slid the best piece of garlic butter lobster onto my plate—Audrey’s favorite. She smiled, but her eyes were heavy with expectation. “Coco, Julian has been mourning your sister for three years now. And now that you’re finally back home…” She hesitated, looking at my dad before continuing. “We think it’s time. You two should get married.” My dad nodded in solemn agreement. I froze. Across the table, Julian—my first love, my sister’s husband, my brother-in-law—kept his head down. He was silently, meticulously cracking open another lobster claw. He didn’t say no. My fork hovered in mid-air. I stared at Julian sitting right across from me. My first love. My sister’s widower. He kept cracking the shell, acting as if he hadn’t heard a single word. When the sweet, pink meat came free in one perfect piece, he placed it gently on my plate. Then he reached for another claw and started again. From beginning to end, he never looked up. He never said a word. He didn’t say no. My dad raised his glass, his face already flushed from the wine. “You’re both not getting any younger. You know each other’s families inside out. Back when Audrey…” He paused, swallowing the painful memory. “Now that you two are here, this is the best way to move forward. It’s what Audrey would have wanted.” Hearing those words, I dropped my fork. It hit the porcelain plate with a sharp, echoing clink. “I’m full.” “Coco—” my mom called out, her voice pleading. I didn’t look back. I walked straight into my room and slammed the door. The walls in this old house were paper-thin. Thin enough for me to hear my mom’s heavy sigh from the hallway. “That girl… the older she gets, the more stubborn she becomes.” My dad’s low voice followed. “Don’t rush her. We’ll take it slow. At least Julian agreed.” But there was no sound from Julian. Not a single word. I leaned my back against the door, slowly sliding down until I was sitting on the cold hardwood floor. Audrey had only been gone for three years. On this night meant for family reunion, my parents couldn’t wait to hand me Audrey’s husband, Audrey’s estate, and Audrey’s life. They wanted to “transfer” her existence to me, all to construct some sick, fake version of a happy ending. Even this bedroom was exactly the same as it was seven years ago. On the bookshelf sat three framed photos: a picture of Audrey and me laughing, a candid shot of Julian and me by the high school basketball courts, and their wedding portrait. She was wearing a stunning white gown, her veil catching the wind. Julian was looking down at her, his eyes filled with endless warmth. But… that was supposed to be my wedding. My phone buzzed. It was a text from Emily, my assistant back in New York: “Hey Chloe, a huge opportunity just popped up. The London branch is desperately looking for a Project Director. The headhunter wants to hop on a call with you.” Below the text was a PDF link and a contact number. I stared at the screen, my thumb hovering over the glass. Outside, I heard quiet footsteps stop right before my door. Three gentle knocks. “Coco,” Julian’s voice came through the wood, soft and hesitant. “I warmed up some milk for you.” I stayed silent. He waited for a moment. “I’m leaving it by the door. Get some rest.” His footsteps faded away. I waited a long time before finally opening the door. Sure enough, a mug was sitting on the floor. The milk was still warm, a thin film forming on the surface. I picked it up, walked straight to the kitchen, and poured the white liquid down the drain. As I turned around, I almost collided with Julian. He had been standing in the doorway the whole time. Wearing a gray sweatshirt, his tall frame looked incredibly thin under the dim kitchen light. His gaze fell on the empty mug in my hand, then slowly drifted up to meet my eyes. “Why didn’t you drink it?” “I don’t like milk anymore,” I said, setting the mug on the counter. “I got used to black coffee in New York.” His lips pressed into a tight line, a nervous habit that made him look suddenly defenseless. “We need to talk,” he said. “About what? About how you and my parents planned to ‘give’ me to you?” I spat the words out, letting the sarcasm cut deep. Julian’s face went pale. He stepped inside and shut the kitchen door, shutting us off from the living room. “Your parents are just… they’re getting old, Chloe—” “So I have to sacrifice my life to keep them happy? To give them a show?” “That’s not what I meant.” He reached his hand out, wanting to touch my shoulder, but froze halfway and let it drop. “Coco, I know you’re angry. But can you just…” “Julian,” I interrupted, my voice cold. “We ended years ago. There is nothing left between us.” His eyes snapped up, wide and searching. “But Audrey—” “Don’t bring up my sister,” my voice began to tremble. “This is between us. Don’t use her as your shield.” Julian fell silent for a long time. He stared down at his hands—hands that had once clumsily braided my hair, hands that had later worn a wedding band and held my sister’s hand. “I just… I don’t want to lose any more family,” he finally whispered. Looking at him, a wave of exhaustion hit me. “Julian, the day you chose Audrey was the day you and I became impossible.” His eyes brimmed with red, but he didn’t say another word. I brushed past him and opened the kitchen door. In the living room, my parents had already cleared the table. The TV was still on, playing reruns of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. The cheerful music and canned applause felt incredibly mocking. I walked straight back to my room, shut the door, and this time, I locked it. I pulled out my phone, tapped the headhunter’s number, and typed two words: “I’m interested.” Sent.

    The next morning, I stood in the middle of my room. Looking at this space that hadn’t changed in a decade, I felt a sudden urge to reclaim my life. I unzipped my suitcase and began hanging my clothes in the closet—strictly on my side. My sharp-cut blazers, silk blouses, and cashmere coats hung right next to Audrey’s soft, pastel cardigans. Then, I turned to the bookshelf. I grabbed a stack of my old college textbooks and walked to the living room. My mom looked up from the kitchen. “You throwing those out?” “Yeah.” “Oh, what a waste…” She walked over, flipping through a textbook on advanced accounting. “These cost a fortune.” “They’re taking up space,” I replied. My mom didn’t push. Her eyes just went a little dim. Back in my room, the shelf was half-empty. I knelt down and looked at the bottom shelf. Those were Audrey’s books. A few medical journals, some classic novels, and several thick, leather-bound notebooks. I pulled one out. It had a dark blue cover, the edges worn thin. Embossed on the front were the words: Hospital Residency Journal. I hesitated, then opened it. The first entry was from eight years ago. “March 12. Sunny. Today was my first solo night shift. A patient with severe cardiac arrest came in at 2:00 AM. We tried resuscitating him for an hour, but we lost him. His family was screaming and crying outside. I hid in the breakroom and cried, too. My supervisor said I’m too emotional to be a doctor. But if I can’t even cry, how can I truly feel my patients’ pain?” I flipped forward. “May 20. Overcast. My little sister called today. She got accepted for an exchange program in New York. I’m so incredibly happy for her, but I feel a little left behind. She’s flying so high and so far, while I’ll probably be stuck in this small town forever. Julian tells me I’m silly. He says everyone has their own path. But…” The entry ended abruptly after “But.” There was a small, faded watermark on the paper, where a tear had once smeared the ink. I kept reading. The entries became sporadic, sometimes with months in between. Then, the date jumped to five years ago. “February 14. Snowing. I got the diagnosis today. Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis. ALS. Lou Gehrig’s disease. The doctor said there is no cure. I asked him how long I have left. He said three to five years. When I left the clinic, I sat on the hallway bench for a whole hour. Snow drifted in through the open window, melting cold against my hand.” The handwriting here was shaky, the pen pressing so hard in some places that it tore the paper. My fingers began to go numb. “February 28. Cloudy. I finally told Mom and Dad. Mom cried all night, and Dad smoked one cigarette after another. I didn’t tell Chloe. She’s writing her graduation thesis. I can’t let her lose her focus. Julian came to see me. He swore that no matter what happens, he will stand by me. I held him and sobbed, but all I could think was: What about Chloe? When she finds out, will she hate me?” “March 15. Sunny. I made a very selfish decision today. Julian came to the hospital. I had a sudden panic attack and couldn’t breathe. He was terrified, his eyes completely bloodshot. I grabbed his hand and begged him: ‘Julian, I’m scared. Please… don’t leave me.’ He said okay. He promised he’d never leave. I knew it was a promise born of pity, but I chose to believe it. Because I am so, so terrified of dying alone.” There was a gap of almost ten months after that. The next entry was in the fall. “September 3. Windy. Chloe emailed me today. She got a job offer at Columbia University. She is amazing. I lay in my hospital bed, crying tears of pride and grief. Julian asked me why I was crying. I told him I didn’t know. But I did. I was mourning the dream of standing on the streets of New York with her—a dream that will never come true.” “September 20. Overcast. I had a nightmare. I dreamed Chloe came back, stood over my hospital bed, and screamed at me for stealing Julian. I woke up shaking. Julian was asleep beside my bed, holding my hand with the IV drip. Looking at his face, I realized that the two people I’ve hurt the most in this lifetime are the ones right beside me.” “October 5. Light rain. The disease is progressing fast. My fingers are stopping to work. This might be my last entry. Chloe, if you ever find this notebook, please don’t forgive me. I was a terrible sister, a terrible daughter, and a terrible lover. But I was just… so afraid of going into the dark alone.” The very last page had no date. There was only one sentence, written in a jagged, barely legible scrawl: “I hope my little sister flies high and flies far. Never look back.”

    I closed the journal. Outside, the afternoon sun was bright and warm, but I felt freezing cold. A soft knock came from the door. “Coco,” my mom’s voice was gentle. “I cut up some fruit. Come have some?” I took a deep breath, slid the journal back onto the bottom shelf, and opened the door. My mom was standing there with a plate of neatly sliced apples and oranges. Her eyes wandered past me to the bookshelf. “Clearing things out?” “Yeah.” “Your sister’s books…” She hesitated. “Do you want to pack them up?” I stared into her eyes. “Mom, you and Dad knew about Audrey’s diagnosis from the very beginning, didn’t you?” The warm smile on her face froze. The plate in her hands trembled, an apple slice sliding to the edge. She walked into my room, set the plate on my desk, and stood with her back to me for a long time. “We knew.” “Audrey begged us not to tell you. She didn’t want to ruin your future in New York.” “And Julian?” I asked, my voice cracking. “When did he find out?” My mom turned around, her eyes instantly red. “Right after she was diagnosed. That boy… he sat in the hospital hallway all night. The next morning, his eyes were so swollen he could barely open them. He told us he would take responsibility.” “Responsibility?” “Coco, don’t blame him,” my mom begged, grabbing my hands. “Your sister… she was in a dark place. If Julian hadn’t been there, she wouldn’t have survived those years. He gave her peace.” I pulled my hands back slowly. “I don’t blame him.” I just finally understood what Julian meant when he said, “I just don’t want to lose any more family.” To him, Audrey’s illness, her death, and my parents’ aging grief were chains wrapping tightly around him. And my return was just another chain. That evening at dinner, my mom suddenly put down her fork and went into her bedroom. When she came out, she was holding a faded cream-colored envelope. The edges were completely frayed. “Audrey left this for you,” she said, her voice immediately thick with tears. “I never found the right time to give it to you.” I took the envelope. Julian stopped eating. He stared at the paper, his throat muscles tightening, but he remained silent. “You guys keep eating. I’ll read it in my room.” “Just read it here,” my mom pleaded. “We’re all family anyway—” “Mom,” I cut her off, my tone leaving no room for argument. Back in my room, I sat on the edge of my bed for a long time before carefully tearing open the envelope. Inside was a stack of letter paper, about ten pages long, covered in Audrey’s handwriting. It started neat and organized, but toward the end, the letters became jagged and distorted. “Chloe, If you’re reading this, I’m already gone. I’m sorry for writing this. I never had the courage to tell you to your face—but Julian’s choice back then wasn’t his. I forced him into it.” My hands began to shake. “The day I got my diagnosis, my mind went completely blank. The doctor said three to five years, and the only thought in my head was: I’m going to die. I was only twenty-six. I had so much left to do. And then, I thought of Julian. I know it was pathetic. But when you’re facing death, you become a monster of selfishness.” I took a deep, shaky breath and kept reading. “Those three years of marriage were the most painful, yet happiest years of my life. Painful because of the ALS, happy because of him. Julian was a perfect husband. He took care of my every need, did physical therapy with me, read me poetry, and held my hand through the night when the pain was too much to bear. But I knew he wasn’t happy. So many nights, I’d wake up to find his side of the bed cold. I’d crawl to the window and see him standing on the balcony, smoking in the moonlight, looking so incredibly lonely. Once, I overheard him on the phone with your university advisor, asking how you were doing in America, making sure you had everything you needed. After he hung up, he stood on that balcony until dawn. That’s when I realized what a horrible thing I had done. Chloe, if you hate me, I understand. You should. I stole your first love. I stole the years that belonged to you. But please… don’t hate Julian. He’s just a fool trapped by his own sense of duty, a coward who was too afraid to admit where his heart truly belonged. He didn’t marry me because of love. He married me because of a wicked, desperate trap I laid that night.”

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  • No Room For Your Bastard

    Three years into our marriage, a woman showed up at the Williams manor, dragging a five-year-old boy with her. The boy was a spitting image of my husband, Alexander. With swollen, tear-stained eyes, the woman sobbed, “Even if you hate me, Alexander, the child is innocent.” The little boy looked up at him, whimpering, “Daddy…” Alexander’s heart melted. He let them into the house. Later, he pulled me aside, explaining that the boy was just the result of a wild, drugged night from his college years—a mistake. “It’s just one more mouth to feed, Elena,” he promised, kissing my forehead. “It won’t change anything between us.” I agreed. But that child hated my guts. He called me a homewrecker, smashed my expensive perfumes, and locked me out of the house in the freezing rain. And every single time, Alexander would shrug it off with the same old excuse: “Elena, he’s just a child.” Until the day that “child” shoved me, six months pregnant, directly into oncoming traffic. I survived. My baby did not. Lying in the hospital bed, I looked up to see Alexander watching me with a cold, detached expression. “If you had treated Leo like your own son, he would never have done this,” he said. At that exact moment, the last piece of my heart withered away. As soon as he walked out, I dialed my brother’s number. “Daniel,” I whispered, my voice trembling but cold. “I’m divorcing him. Destroy the Williams family.”

    Not long after I hung up, the heavy wooden door of the VIP suite was pushed open. Alexander walked in, holding Leo’s hand. The boy’s head was down, his lower lip jutting out in a stubborn pout. He looked completely unrepentant. “I didn’t do it on purpose,” Leo muttered. “She just didn’t stand still.” Alexander gave the back of the boy’s head a firm pat, his voice deepening. “Apologize, Leo.” “Daddy…” Leo’s eyes instantly filled with tears. “I’m not apologizing to her!” “She stole you from us! If it weren’t for her, my mommy would be Mrs. Williams!” “The baby in her tummy was a bad guy too!” He burst into tears and threw his arms around Alexander’s waist. “Daddy, I just want my mommy. Why don’t you want her anymore…” Silence stretched across the hospital room, heavy and suffocating. Alexander held the boy close, remaining silent for a long time. Eventually, he just stroked the boy’s back and murmured, “Alright, buddy. Stop crying.” He didn’t force Leo to apologize again. After the nanny took the boy out, Alexander walked over and sat on the edge of my bed. “He’s still young, Elena. He doesn’t understand.” “I’ve already scolded him.” I stared down at my flat stomach, my throat burning. “So, my baby deserved to die?” Alexander stiffened. I let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Alexander, this isn’t the first time.” Since Leo moved into our house, my life had become a horror movie. He had secretly swapped my prenatal vitamins with unidentified pills. He had poured pesticide into my morning milk. He had even sneaked peanut powder into my salad when the chef wasn’t looking. I have a severe, life-threatening peanut allergy. How could a five-year-old child be so calculated, so evil? I wasn’t stupid. I had investigated that woman, Chloe. But every time I brought the evidence to Alexander, he would just rub his temples with an exhausted sigh. “Elena, Leo is just a kid. Don’t overthink things.” Later, when I demanded we send the boy back to his mother, Alexander spent the entire night smoking on the balcony. The next morning, he gave me a final answer. “No.” “That woman only came back for my money. Leo is only safe under my roof.” From that day on, Alexander stepped up as a devoted father. He drove Leo to school every morning. He read him bedtime stories. He built Lego sets with him and taught him how to ride a bike. Meanwhile, the time he spent with me dwindled to almost nothing. The only sound in the hospital room was the rhythmic, clinical beep of the heart monitor. Finally, Alexander sighed and spoke in a low voice. “I will make this up to you, Elena.” “Ask for anything you want. Just don’t ask me to send Leo away.” The corner of my mouth twitched. “Then we have nothing left to talk about.” Looking at my pale, ghost-like face, a flicker of guilt finally crossed his eyes. “Elena,” he said, taking my cold hand. “I’ve already lost and found one child. Are you asking me to abandon him again?” “You need to understand, no one can ever take your place as Mrs. Williams.” I stared at him, suddenly finding the whole situation pathetic. Three years ago, he spent millions at an auction just to buy back my late mother’s vintage brooch. He once rented out the entire harbor just to put on a private light show because I casually mentioned I liked the night sky. Back then, I thought he loved me. But the moment Leo appeared, I woke up from the fairy tale. Romantic love fades, but blood ties are forever. I gently touched my empty stomach, where a dull, tearing pain still lingered. I raised my eyes to meet his. “Let’s get a divorce, Alexander.” The room fell dead silent. Alexander’s eyes darkened, and he let out a low, mocking chuckle. “A divorce? Over a kid’s mistake?” He looked at me, his disappointment palpable. “Elena, I know you’ve never accepted Leo. I know you hate Chloe. But I’ve told you a thousand times.” “You are my only wife.” “What could a five-year-old child and a woman who will never set foot in the Williams social circle possibly do to threaten you?”

    Alexander always referred to Chloe as “that woman.” As if by erasing her name, he could erase their past. But he didn’t realize that a mother would do absolutely anything to secure her child’s future. The day of the incident, my chauffeur had parked the car right outside the mall entrance. Being six months pregnant, my movements were slow and heavy. Suddenly, Leo pointed across the street and squeaked, “Elena, look! A kitty!” I instinctively turned my head. In that split second, a pair of small hands pushed hard against my lower back. I stumbled forward, losing my balance, and tumbled straight onto the busy road. The screech of brakes echoed in my ears. A speeding sedan couldn’t stop in time. Following a violent impact, warm, sticky blood began to flow down my legs, soaking my dress. As my consciousness faded, I saw Leo standing on the sidewalk. He wasn’t crying. He was looking down, whispering into his smart-watch. “Mommy… she’s bleeding a lot.” From the other end, Chloe’s voice sounded chillingly calm. “Stay back. Wait a few minutes before calling for help.” “Remember, Leo. We can’t let her have that baby.” “Only then will everything your father owns belong to you.” “Once I’m back with your dad, we’ll be a real family again.” I closed my eyes. The mall entrance, the sidewalk, the parking lot… there were security cameras everywhere. If Alexander had cared to look, the truth was right there. But he never did. Or maybe he knew all along and just chose to cover it up. Because Leo was his flesh and blood, the son he felt he owed a debt to. He would always soften his stance toward Chloe because of their son. On the day I was discharged, the nurse looked around the empty room, confused. “Where is your husband?” I looked down at my phone. A text from Alexander had arrived minutes ago: [Leo says his mom is sick. Don’t worry, I won’t go see her. I’m just setting her up with a private doctor.] I took a deep breath, swallowing the bitterness. “He’s dead.” The nurse gasped, but seeing my expression, she offered a sympathetic smile. “Congratulations on your new beginning.” Once I was physically recovered, I immediately began auditing our joint assets. When we got married, my family’s conglomerate, the Franklin Group, had injected nearly a billion dollars into the Williams Group. Detangling our finances was going to be a messy, brutal war. Carrying a stack of legal documents, I walked out of my family’s office building. On my way back, I got caught in heavy school-hour traffic. My car happened to be stopped right in front of an upscale private kindergarten. “Daddy! You came to pick me up today!” I gripped the steering wheel, glancing at the rearview mirror. Leo had just hopped into the backseat of my SUV. It was Alexander’s usual car, and the boy hadn’t even looked before jumping in. When he realized I was the one in the driver’s seat, his face turned pale. “Ah! Elena…”

    Before I could say a word, a woman rushed over, yanked the door open, and snatched Leo into her arms. “What are you doing? Why are you trying to take my son!” “Just because you lost your own baby doesn’t mean you can steal mine! Leo didn’t mean to do it!” I narrowed my eyes. It was Chloe. Leo’s eyes darted around, and he buried his face in her neck, sobbing. “Mommy, she always hits me when you’re not around!” “She starves me and won’t let me talk to Daddy!” Chloe gasped, looking horrified. “How can you be so cruel? How could you abuse my little boy!” “He might not be your biological son, but he is my absolute world…” The surrounding crowd consisted of wealthy moms waiting for their kids. Hearing this, they began whispering and glaring at me. Some even threw half-eaten snacks at my car window. “Gosh, stepmothers are always evil. She’s clearly taking advantage of the poor boy because his real mom isn’t around.” “Exactly. Look at her driving that luxury car. She probably used dirty tricks to squeeze the real mother out of the picture.” Chloe held Leo tight, weeping as if she were the ultimate victim. I calmly rolled up the window, picked up some tissues, and wiped my hair. Then, I sent a text to Alexander: [Get over here.] The text showed “Read,” but there was no reply. I followed up with: [Leo’s kindergarten.] He instantly requested my location and arrived within ten minutes. After assessing the situation, Alexander cast a cold glance at the mother and son clinging to each other. Chloe swallowed hard, looking terrified. “I-I’m sorry, Alexander. I was just so worried about Leo. I misunderstood your wife…” Alexander didn’t even look at her. He turned to me. “I know you’re angry. I’ll make her apologize.” Chloe took the hint immediately. She bowed her head, looking utterly humiliated. “I am so sorry, Mrs. Williams.” Alexander waved his hand dismissively, signaling her to take the boy and leave. I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel, letting out a cold chuckle. “That’s it?” Alexander watched Chloe’s retreating figure. After a long moment, he sighed. “She’s still the boy’s mother, Elena. Don’t push her too hard.” I looked away, my chest tightening. When I first found out about Chloe, Alexander had told me: “I was only nineteen when she drugged me.” “She did it for the money. If I ever see her again, I’ll make sure she pays.” And yet, here he was. Staring into the eyes of the woman who shared his son’s face, his resolve had crumbled. An old flame, rekindled through their shared child. I hit the gas and drove off, leaving him standing in the rain. Water droplets began to splatter against the windshield, mirroring the silent tears building in my eyes. Just then, my phone buzzed. It was a message from the legal team at the Franklin Group: [All assets and personnel have been accounted for. We are ready to pull our capital from the Williams Group at your command.] I typed back without hesitation: [Do it tomorrow. The faster, the better.] When I got home, I began reviewing the divorce papers, checking the asset distribution line by line. Before our wedding, I had made Alexander sign a prenup. One clause was non-negotiable: If either party fathered or mothered a child outside of the marriage, they would walk away with absolutely nothing. Back then, under the harbor fireworks, he had signed it without a second thought. I still remembered how my heart leaped that night. But now, looking at the same signature, I felt absolutely nothing. The bedroom door opened. Alexander walked in, the faint scent of a woman’s perfume clinging to his jacket. “Still mad?” He sat on the edge of the bed. “I sent Leo to his mom’s place for the night.” “I know you love kids, Elena. I’ll talk to Leo. I’ll make him call you ‘Mommy.’” Without looking up from my laptop, I replied coldly, “He will never be my child.” Alexander’s face hardened. He walked to the window and lit a cigarette. “Elena, I don’t get it. Why can’t you just accept Leo?” “It seems like you’ve hated him from the very beginning.” He was wrong. Leo was the one who hated me. When we first met, I had bought him an expensive toy car to welcome him. In return, he used that very toy to trip me down the stairs, killing my unborn child. Thinking of this, I shut my laptop and looked him dead in the eye. “You know exactly why, Alexander.” “What?” “Every time you look at that boy, you see his mother.” Alexander’s hand shook, almost dropping his cigarette. After a long pause, he let out a harsh laugh. “If there were still anything between Chloe and me, do you really think you’d be sitting here as my wife?” My heart felt like it was being squeezed by a cold hand. He looked down on Chloe’s cheap tricks, but that didn’t stop him from using her to hurt me. Seeing that I remained silent, a smug smile returned to his face. “Be good, Elena. Didn’t you want to see the Northern Lights? I cleared my schedule for a three-day trip. We leave tomorrow, okay?” I turned my head away, refusing to engage. The next morning, Alexander saw my packed suitcases by the door and smiled softly. “You already packed? And here I thought you didn’t want to go.” Just as I was about to pull out the divorce papers, Leo came bursting through the front door, crying. “Daddy! Today is the School Open House!” “All the other kids have their moms and dads there. They laugh at me because my parents aren’t together…” “Daddy, please come with Mommy. Just this once, please?” Alexander looked at the boy, then at me. After a long silence, he nodded. The trip to see the Northern Lights was postponed. Again. He couldn’t even look me in the eye as he walked out the door. A few minutes later, a text popped up on my phone: [I’m only doing this for Leo. I’ll just drop him off and leave.] I stared at the screen, laughing silently. This time it was a school event. What would it be next time? A family portrait? A family dinner? A family vacation? With Leo bridging the gap, Alexander and Chloe would never be truly separated. But luckily, I had already built my exit ramp. At 2:00 PM, my bags were packed. I was waiting for the Franklin family’s private car to pick me up. But as I opened the front door, I ran straight into a sweating, panicked Alexander.

    In his arms was a pale, whimpering Leo. The boy’s leg was covered in blood, looking horrific. Alexander was frantic, completely blind to my suitcases. “Leo got hurt during the school event! Go get the first-aid kit and call our family doctor, quickly!” Leo whimpered, reaching out his hands toward Chloe, who was sneaking in right behind them. “I don’t want Elena! I want Mommy! I only want my mommy…” Outside the door, Chloe looked up with tears in her eyes. “Alexander, please let me in. Just let me be with my boy!” Alexander creased his brows. Five years ago, he had kicked her out of his life. But today, for the sake of his son, he stepped aside. “Come in.” A flash of triumph crossed Chloe’s eyes. She quickly put on shoe covers, nervously playing with her worn-out shirt. Alexander looked at her, his voice softening slightly. “Have you had a hard time raising him alone all these years?” Chloe looked down, presenting her most vulnerable, fragile angle. “As long as our boy didn’t suffer, it was worth it.” It wasn’t until the doctor arrived that Alexander seemed to snap out of his trance. He stared at Chloe’s back as she followed the doctor into the bedroom, lost in thought. I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Can’t you see what she’s doing, Alexander?” Alexander was a grown, highly educated businessman. Of course he knew she was playing him. But he just sighed. “She is Leo’s mother. Preventing her from seeing her injured child would be inhumane.” “Her little schemes… they are understandable. At least her love for her son is real.” He rubbed his forehead. “Whatever. I don’t need to explain this to you.” “You’ve never been a mother, Elena. You wouldn’t understand.” Whenever Alexander was frustrated, he knew exactly which words would cut me the deepest. I looked down, my hands trembling as I thought of my lost baby. Maybe it was a blessing that my child was never born into this mess. Alexander felt the awkward silence and was about to say something when Leo’s voice called out from the bedroom. “Where’s Daddy? I want Daddy!” “My leg hurts! I want Daddy and Mommy to kiss it make it better!” Alexander immediately turned and walked toward the bedroom. The door was left wide open. The three of them looked like a perfect, happy family sitting on the bed. I clutched the small urn necklace resting against my collarbone—it held the ashes of my unborn child. A car horn honked from the driveway, pulling me back to reality. “Ma’am, your ride is here,” the butler whispered, looking at me with pity. I took a deep breath, tossed my phone’s SIM card into the trash, and walked out the door without looking back. Inside the house, Alexander stayed by Leo’s side until the boy fell asleep. Slumping onto the sofa, he suddenly realized his words earlier might have been too harsh. His wife had just lost their baby a few months ago. She had been so excited for that child. “Alexander, where are you going?” Chloe asked. “None of your business.” Alexander stood up and walked out to find me. As he looked around the empty living room, it finally clicked. Half of the house’s decor was gone. The only thing left on the coffee table was a signed divorce agreement. Alexander scoffed, thinking I was just using this to threaten him again. But then, his phone rang. “Elena?” he answered quickly. “Mr. Williams, it’s not Mrs. Williams. It’s the board of directors!” The voice on the other end was hysterical. “The Franklin Group has officially pulled all their investments! And Mrs. Elena has taken all her top tech experts with her! Our system is crashing!”

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  • Three Rich Exes Broke My Legs

    [Ding—Mission accomplished. Would you like to extract from this world?] The moment the mechanical system voice chimed in my head, I had just stepped out of the prison gates. Today was my thirtieth birthday, and it was also the day I regained my freedom. Outside the heavy iron gates, three women were already waiting. Laura, Maria, and Sophie. Ten years ago, one swore she’d marry no one but me, another threatened to crash my wedding to steal me away, and the third promised to shield me from the world forever. Now, their eyes were icy, looking at me as if I were a piece of trash. “You paralyzed Julian. Did you really think serving two years in prison would wipe the slate clean?” Laura sneered. “Do you finally regret what you did?” Maria added. Julian. The little angel they kept close to their hearts. I smiled faintly, remaining silent. I bent down and rolled up my left pant leg. The metallic prosthetic leg gleamed coldly under the harsh afternoon sun. “I do,” I whispered. My only regret was being blind back then. My only regret was trusting them. What they didn’t know was that Julian’s legs didn’t even have a scratch on them. The one who had actually lost a leg, the one who had been tortured to the brink of death in prison for two years, was always me.

    Before I was thrown into prison, I had shown them my prosthetic leg, just like I did today. But they didn’t believe me. “You’re a professional dancer, Davis. If you were really crippled, you’d rather die than live like this. Stop faking it,” Sophie had said back then. To avenge Julian, Laura used her family connections to make sure I was thrown into a cell block with the most violent offenders. Those inmates didn’t dare to kill me, but they found every possible way to break me. A dislocated jaw, a broken nose, parts of my scalp ripped off—that was my daily routine. The prison doctor would patch me up just enough to keep me alive, only to throw me back into the pit. Over and over again. Yet, the official reports sent to the guards always read: Inmate 44 is in perfect condition. Now, the fact that I was standing here, breathing the fresh air, was a miracle in itself. Suddenly, Maria grabbed me by my hair. Her fingers dug right into the spot where my scalp hadn’t fully healed. I clenched my jaw, breaking into a cold sweat from the blinding pain. Startled by my reaction, she quickly let go, but her brows immediately knitted into a frown of disgust. “Do you still think you’re some kind of prince, Davis? I barely touched your hair. Why the dramatic reaction? Is it really necessary?” I could feel warm blood slowly trickling down my scalp. The pain was numbing. I didn’t want to waste another second on them. I just wanted to find a cheap clinic, patch myself up, and use the system to leave this godforsaken world. I was a transmigrator, a soul traveling through parallel universes on love-conquest missions. And Laura, Maria, and Sophie were the most unusual targets I had ever encountered. I didn’t even have to try to win them over. The moment they met me, they did a complete u-turn and chased after me like crazy. Thinking back to those ridiculous memories, I let out a self-deprecating laugh. I had traveled through so many worlds and met people far better than them. How did I end up throwing my heart away on these three? But they obviously had no intention of letting me leave. Sophie grabbed my wrist. Her grip was tight, her eyes completely devoid of warmth. “Julian knows you’re getting out today, and he’s in a terrible mood. You’re coming with us to get on your knees and beg him for forgiveness. Make him feel better.” A sickening crack echoed in the quiet air. My wrist was broken. Again. Laura frowned slightly. “Sophie, watch your strength.” Sophie quickly pulled her hand back, looking at her palms in genuine confusion. “I barely touched him.” She was right. She didn’t use much force. But she didn’t know that the inmates in prison had broken my wrists so many times that the bones were fragile. They would snap at the slightest pressure. “Whatever. It’s just a fracture. It’ll heal. Let’s take him to Julian first,” Laura said, waving her hand dismissively. At that moment, Maria pulled out three envelopes from her purse. She took a quick glance at them, and after getting a nod from the other two, she tossed them straight into a nearby trash can. They were the love letters they had written to me years ago. Now, they found their own past words disgusting. “If I could do it all over again, I wouldn’t have wasted a single second on you, Davis. Only Julian deserves my love.” The blood from my scalp was still dripping, making my head spin. My vision started to blur. Sophie was the first to notice something was off. “Why is his forehead bleeding?” The blood dripped down my forehead, splashing onto the dusty pavement, blooming like tiny red flowers. My body swayed. I felt a strange sense of relief. Finally, they noticed. Maybe now they would take me to a clinic. Instead, Laura let out a cold, mocking laugh. “Playing the pity card? That trick doesn’t work twice, Davis.” “You weren’t like this when you were twenty.” “Over the years, under our protection, you didn’t keep your innocence. You just became more toxic and manipulative day by day.”

    Laura mentioning my twenty-year-old self brought back a rush of memories. At twenty, I was the guy every boy in college wanted to be. I came from a wealthy Boston family and had the looks to match. More importantly, I had three stunning girls constantly by my side. Laura, Maria, and Sophie grew up together. Perhaps because their lives were so intertwined, their taste in men was identical. They all fell head over heels for me at the same time. However, they didn’t tear each other apart. Instead, they made a pact to compete fairly. They all had different ways of pursuing me. At twenty, I admired independent, confident women. I couldn’t resist Laura’s elegant, self-assured charm. So, I chose Laura. Everyone at school thought that once Laura and I got together, Maria and Sophie would move on. But they didn’t. They still put me above everything else. If Laura was even slightly neglectful as a girlfriend, they would call her out on my behalf before I could even say a word. Our dynamic was unconventional, but it worked. This lifestyle lasted until I turned twenty-six. That year, my family went bankrupt. My parents passed away shortly after, and I went from a wealthy heir to a nobody overnight. I refused their financial help. I wanted to stand on my own feet, so I got a job as a professional theater dancer. During a cast dinner one night, I ran into Julian, who was being severely bullied by some corporate sponsors. He was four years younger than me, a fresh graduate, looking completely helpless and terrified. I couldn’t stand bullies. Having been protected my whole life, I acted on impulse. I grabbed a beer bottle and smashed it over the bully’s head. The man let go of Julian, but his bodyguards immediately lunged at me. The restaurant turned into absolute chaos. Since I was outnumbered, I got beaten to a pulp. Fortunately, Laura and the girls arrived with their own security detail just in time. Their bodyguards pinned the fat, middle-aged bully to the floor, forcing him to beg for mercy before he was dragged away. Once the air cleared, Julian fell to his knees in front of me. His eyes were red as he cried, “I’m so sorry, Davis. This is all my fault.” I thought I would never see Julian again. But while I was recovering in the hospital, he showed up with a bag of cheap, bruised fruit. I was staying in a luxury VIP suite arranged by Laura, and Julian looked incredibly out of place. He rubbed his hands nervously. “Davis, if it weren’t for you that night, I don’t know what would have happened to me…” “I asked Laura, and she said you like exotic fruits. I bought these. I hope you recover soon.” The fruit he brought was actually half-rotten. But to spare his feelings, I ate it anyway. That night, I ended up with severe food poisoning, throwing up and suffering from acute gastroenteritis. Laura and the girls scolded me for being too naive, then went to confront Julian. Julian, who had never faced such fierce women, panicked. He apologized to me in tears while venting about how he had just been fired from his internship. Back then, I thought he was just a sweet, helpless kid. I felt sorry for him and wanted to help. So, I pulled some strings at the theater and hired Julian as my personal assistant. It was the single worst decision of my life.

    “What are you zoning out for?” Laura’s voice snapped me back to reality as she shoved me into the back seat of the SUV. The four of us were sitting in the same car again, a setup that felt like a sick mockery of our past. I was exhausted. I leaned my head against the cold glass window, closing my eyes to endure the throbbing pain in my wrist and head. In the confined space of the car, the metallic scent of fresh blood quickly filled the air. Sophie frowned, sniffing the air. “Is that… blood?” Laura, who was driving, glanced at the rearview mirror with a deep scowl. “Ask him,” she snapped. Sophie nudged my shoulder. I forced my eyes open, looking at her with a dazed, empty stare. Sophie reached out and wiped a bit of the blood from my forehead with her fingertip. “Is special effects makeup really this realistic nowadays?” she asked, her voice laced with skepticism. Looking at her clueless face, the corner of my lip twitched into a bitter smile. “What’s so funny?” she demanded. I shook my head and closed my eyes again. I was laughing at how stupid they were. No, these three women were highly intelligent Ivy League graduates. They were just so blinded by their hatred for me that they refused to see the truth. Since I didn’t say anything, they stopped asking, assuming I was just playing a pathetic prank with fake blood. Soon, the car pulled up to a familiar luxury high-rise. Looking at the building, I felt as if I had been struck by lightning. Before my family went bankrupt, we owned the penthouse here. My parents had to sell it to pay off their debts. From the passenger seat, Maria spoke in a casual tone. “Don’t look so shocked. Julian said he loved this place, so the three of us bought it as a gift for him.” A wave of cold dread washed over me. Standing before the doors of my childhood home, I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I stared at the three women who had once promised to stand by my side forever. “You knew I was saving every penny to buy this place back for my parents.” “Yet you bought it and gave it to Julian?” My parents loved this place. It held all our family memories. That was the whole reason I worked so hard as a dancer—I didn’t want to rely on these women’s money to buy it back. I was so close to having enough. Then, I was thrown into prison. And during those two years, they handed my home to Julian on a silver platter. My chest felt suffocatingly tight. The three of them exchanged glances, their expressions hardening. “Julian wanted it for his twenty-fourth birthday. Of course we were going to make his dream come true,” Laura said, as if it were the most logical thing in the world. “There are plenty of other penthouses in this building. If you like it so much, buy a different one.” “Besides, you made Julian a cripple two years ago. What’s wrong with giving him this apartment?” Sophie added. “We’re just helping you pay for your sins, Davis.” Was I supposed to thank them for stealing my home to pay for a crime I didn’t commit? How pathetic. Just then, the front door opened, revealing a pale, handsome young man. He was wearing loose white sweatpants, sitting in a high-tech wheelchair. When he saw me, Julian let out a soft gasp and quickly shielded his face. “He… why did you bring him here…?” Tears instantly streamed down his face. Two years, and he was still a master of crying on cue. If I had known he was this good at acting, I would have introduced him to a Hollywood agent instead of making him my assistant. Julian’s sudden panic immediately triggered the protective instincts of the three women. They glared at me like lionesses, ready to pounce if I even breathed in Julian’s direction. My head throbbed violently from his crying. Staring at his “paralyzed” legs hidden beneath the loose fabric of his pants, I spoke quietly. “Why don’t you roll up your sweatpants, Julian? Show them your prosthetic leg.”

    Before my voice could even fade, Laura’s hand whipped across my face. Slap! The force of the blow made my ears ring sharply. Laura looked at me with deep disappointment. “Do you have to keep tormenting him, Davis? How did you become so heartless?” It was almost comical. My ears were ringing so loudly that their shouting sounded like they were underwater. Julian didn’t have to do a thing. All he had to do was sit in that chair and cry, and these three powerful women would fight his battles for him. When Julian first became my assistant, he was like a shadow, following me twenty-four hours a day. Whenever I hung out with Laura and the girls, Julian was always there. The balance of our four-person group was completely shattered by his presence. My dancing career was taking off back then, and within a year, I was headlining solo tours. Because of this, I was barely in Boston. Julian always found excuses to stay behind instead of traveling with me. Though I wasn’t happy with his work ethic, I didn’t make a big deal out of it. But gradually, I noticed that our active group chat had gone completely dead. Soon, I found out why. Julian had created a separate group chat with the three of them. They were talking and laughing in their new group every single day, leaving me completely in the dark. I could accept Julian joining our circle, but I couldn’t accept being pushed out of my own life. Especially when one of those people was my girlfriend, Laura. I had a massive fight with Laura about it. In a desperate attempt to get her attention, I used fake blood to stage an accident. When she saw through it, her eyes were filled with disgust. “I never realized how crazy and manipulative you are, Davis.” That fight led to a cold war. I stopped talking to Laura, and I ignored Maria and Sophie too. Then came my next tour. Julian tried to back out again, but this time, I insisted he come with me. And during the dress rehearsal, disaster struck. The opening act required me to descend from a harness fifty feet in the air. When Julian was checking my harness, I felt something was loose. I repeatedly told him to double-check and tighten the straps. But he smiled and assured me everything was perfect. At that time, the rest of the crew had gone out for dinner. Only the two of us were in the arena. Julian said, “Davis, if you’re scared, I can put on a harness and go up with you.” But he only put on the gear; he didn’t actually rise with me. The moment I reached the highest point, the harness failed. The safety latch snapped, and I plummeted fifty feet, crashing brutally onto the wooden stage. That height was equivalent to a five-story building. I didn’t die, but my body felt like it had been shattered into a million pieces. My screams of agony echoed through the empty arena. Instead of calling an ambulance, Julian dragged my broken body into a taxi and took me to a remote, poorly equipped hospital hours away. Because of the delay in treatment, my legs couldn’t be saved. The day they amputated my leg was my twenty-eighth birthday. And the only person by my side was Julian. He told me Laura and the girls were too busy to come. Though my heart ached, the physical pain was so overwhelming that I couldn’t think straight. Two days before I was discharged, Julian disappeared. When I finally went home with my new prosthetic leg, the police were waiting for me. Laura, Maria, and Sophie had teamed up to put me behind bars. They claimed that out of jealousy, I had tried to murder Julian by rigging his harness, resulting in his permanent paralysis. I was too broken, both physically and mentally, to defend myself. Before they dragged me away, I tried to show them my prosthetic leg. But they looked at me with cold indifference, mocking my “disgusting lies.” I shook my head, trying to clear the fog in my brain. With the massive blood loss and my weakened state, my body finally gave out, and I collapsed onto the floor. Before darkness claimed me, I heard Laura’s cold, mocking voice.

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  • When My Soul Faded, He Finally Cried

    Julian Sterling framed me for corporate espionage in front of the entire city’s media. He shoved a check in my face and told me to take the money and get lost. No one in that press room knew that the woman in the gray janitor uniform, the one my own husband was publicly crucifying, was terminally ill. I couldn’t even afford a basic IV drip at the ER. The real thief was Melanie Crawford, the woman he cherished. With just one sweet whisper from her, Julian made me take the fall for everything. I bit back the blood in my mouth. I told myself I just needed to survive long enough to get the clinical trial payout for my surgery. I just wanted to live a few days longer. But I died on the cold metal table in the emergency room. It was only after I was gone that Julian finally looked at the security footage from the fire escape. He saw the truth. He saw Melanie pushing me down the stairs. Later, he ruined Sterling Enterprises trying to avenge me. He even paid with his own life. But when we finally met again, we were nothing but two fading souls drifting in the morning light. He knelt before my grave, sobbing, begging for forgiveness. I knelt down and wrapped my arms around him. “Julian, I did love you. But it’s too late. We’re both dead.”

    Eva’s POV Julian Sterling framed me for stealing corporate secrets in front of every major media outlet in the city. Nobody in the crowd knew that the woman on stage, dressed in a faded gray janitor uniform and labeled a thief, was actually his legal wife of three years. I was Evangeline Vance. And after the Vance family went bankrupt, I became the scapegoat carrying the debt of my family’s blood. Julian hated me to my very core. Meanwhile, Melanie Crawford, the thief and the girl Julian actually loved, sat in the VIP section below the stage. She watched my humiliation with a smug, victorious smile. “Mr. Sterling, is she really just a janitor at Sterling Enterprises?” “I heard she used to be the heiress of the Vance family. Why did she resort to theft?” The reporters pushed forward like a pack of hungry wolves, their microphones raised, camera flashes blinding my eyes. Julian stood at the podium in his custom-tailored suit, looking down at me. His eyes were as cold as ice, staring at me as if I were a piece of trash. “She used to have ties to the Sterling family,” Julian’s voice echoed through the microphone, completely ruthless. “But Sterling Enterprises will never harbor a thief. Evangeline Vance is suspected of stealing core data. I will personally file police charges and see this through to the end.” A simple “ties to the family.” With those words, he erased our three years of marriage and my years of devotion, turning me into nothing but a background nuisance. I bit my pale lip so hard it bled, my hand tightly clutching my lower abdomen. The stitches from my surgery had only been taken out last night, and the rough fabric of the janitor uniform was rubbing against the wound, making it bleed again. Melanie sat in the front row, her manicured fingers gently resting on her expensive white designer handbag. She threw a mocking glance my way. My throat felt tight. Just last night, Melanie had shoved the stolen files into my locker and whispered in my ear, “Take the fall for me, Eva. Julian will only give you the money for your surgery if you cooperate. Aren’t you desperate for cash? Aren’t you dying?” Yes. I was desperate. I was so broke that the hospital receptionist had thrown the unpaid bills in my face three times in public. I was so broke that I almost pawned the last photo of my late father. So here I was, stomping on my own dignity to take the fall for his mistress, all for the “experimental drug trial” money Julian had promised me. I needed that blood money to buy myself a few more days of life. Under the cynical stares of the crowd, I pushed past the security guards and stepped onto the stage. Each step tore at my surgical wound, and cold sweat poured down my back. I didn’t look at Melanie. My lifeless eyes were locked entirely on Julian. “Mr. Sterling.” I picked up the microphone from the table. My voice was dry and raspy, like I had swallowed sand. Julian’s brows furrowed in pure anger. “The evidence is clear. What else do you have to say for yourself?” “My payout,” I croaked. “The money for participating in the clinical drug trial. When will I get it?” The room went dead silent for a second, then erupted into whispers. “Clinical trial? Did she just say payout?” Melanie’s expression instantly shattered, her fingers digging hard into her bag. Julian stared at me, his disgust turning into raw, unshielded fury. “You stole from us, and now you have the nerve to blackmail me on live television?” “I only want the money you promised,” I said, looking him dead in the eyes. “The trial observation period is over. Pay me what’s in the contract, Julian. I earned this.” Julian’s face turned pale with rage. Dozens of cameras pointed straight at me. I could see myself on the massive screens behind the stage. Standing next to Julian in his expensive, glowing aura, I looked like dirt. I used to be Mrs. Sterling. I used to wear designer gowns, holding his arm at high-end charity galas. Once, he had taken a glass of champagne from my hand and whispered softly, “She’s not feeling well. I’ll drink for her.” But now, those memories were dead. Now, he looked at me like I was a disease. Julian let out a cold laugh. He snatched his checkbook from his assistant and quickly scribbled a figure. His pen pressed so hard it almost tore the paper. He ripped the check out, but he didn’t hand it to me. Instead, like tossing scraps to a stray dog, he threw it right at my feet. The thin piece of paper drifted through the air, landing right in front of my dirty sneakers. “Is that enough?” Julian lowered his voice, but the microphone was still on. His cold, mocking words echoed through the hall. “Take the money and get lost, Eva. Don’t ever use these cheap tricks to dirty my company again.” The camera shutters sounded like rapid gunfire. I stared at the check on the floor and slowly bent down. The sudden movement squeezed my wound, and my vision went black for a second. I didn’t kneel. I just trembled, pressing my hands against the cold floor, and slowly pinched the paper into my palm. Melanie let out a long sigh of relief in the front row, her eyes filled with victory. Julian, watching me bend over for money like a beggar, looked even more disgusted. “You really have no dignity left when it comes to cash, do you?” I folded the check and slipped it into my pocket, right against my bleeding wound. The paper pressed against my warm blood, crushing the very last urge I had to explain myself. I forced myself to stand straight and looked at the husband I had loved for three years. “Thank you, Mr. Sterling.” Julian’s throat bobbed, his brow knitting tightly. Maybe he expected me to cry. Maybe he thought I would scream and beg him to believe me, just like I used to. But I did nothing. I was just an empty shell. All my cries for help had died last night. Last night, when I was curled up on a freezing bench in the hospital corridor, I had called Julian ten times. He didn’t pick up once. On the eleventh try, Melanie answered the phone. Her voice was sweet and dripping with venom. “Julian is busy with me, Eva. Grow up.” Right. I had to grow up. So I came to the press conference. I took the fall for his mistress. I let my husband publicly ruin my life. I turned around, dragging my bleeding body off the stage. Security cleared a narrow path through the reporters. I walked steadily, though my fingers were shaking uncontrollably at my sides. Just as I reached the exit, Julian’s ice-cold voice rang out behind me. “Call the police.” I froze. The assistant next to him whispered in confusion, “Mr. Sterling, she… she already took the check.” “I don’t care,” Julian said, his voice carrying clearly over the speakers. “The money was to give her a bit of dignity. But she still has to pay for her crime!” I didn’t look back. I squeezed the check in my pocket so hard that the edges began to tear. At that moment, I realized Julian hadn’t given me dignity at all. He had only given me humiliation.

    Eva’s POV Less than half an hour after the press conference ended, I dragged my pale, exhausted body toward the side alley of Sterling Enterprises. Before I could make it out, the sharp click of high heels sounded behind me. “Why are you running so fast?” Melanie stood under the hallway light, draped in an expensive, light-colored designer coat. The gentle smile she had worn for the cameras was gone, replaced by a venomous sneer. I stopped and pressed my hand tightly over the bloody check in my pocket. “I got the money. Leave me alone.” “You got a check that’s basically pennies to us, and you think this is over?” Melanie stepped closer, looking down her nose at my dirty, gray janitor uniform. “Evangeline Vance. You used to be the great Vance family heiress. Now look at you, begging Julian for scrap money in front of the whole city. No wonder he looks at you like you’re garbage.” My fists clenched, my knuckles turning white. “You put those files in my locker, Melanie. You know it was you.” Melanie laughed, not even bothering to deny it. “Yeah, I did. So what?” I snapped my head up, staring at her. Melanie stepped closer, whispering in my ear. “But do you have proof? The cameras in that hallway conveniently broke. The locker only has your fingerprints on it. And now, the entire media just saw how greedy you are. Who would believe you? Julian?” Just then, a couple of employees walked past the other end of the hallway. Melanie’s eyes flicked over, and she instantly reached out, gently smoothing down my dirty collar like a caring friend. But the moment they were out of sight, her fingers dug deep into the skin near my collarbone, pinching me hard. “You better keep your mouth shut! Julian already thinks you’re a pathetic thief. He hates even hearing your name.” She shoved me hard. My back slammed against the rough brick wall. A dull, agonizing pain shot up from my abdomen as my surgical wound stretched. I broke out in a cold sweat, but I didn’t make a sound. I just glared at her. “You’re scared. You’re scared I’ll talk about the clinical trials.” Melanie’s face darkened, but she quickly recovered with a cold smirk. “Why would I be scared? You signed the papers yourself. You went into that test group voluntarily. Even if you die on the operating table, it’s just a ‘normal complication’ listed on your consent form!” My heart skipped a beat, feeling like it was filled with shattered glass. Satisfied by my silent despair, Melanie reached into her designer bag, pulled out a gold credit card, and slapped it against my cheek. “Aren’t you desperate for money to save your life? Here’s a little extra.” I didn’t reach for it. So Melanie grabbed my collar and shoved the card down the front of my shirt. “Tomorrow is Sterling’s Annual Charity Gala. I want you to go on stage and give a speech.” “About what?” “Tell everyone how you went from the high-and-mighty Vance heiress to a pathetic janitor at Sterling Enterprises. Tell them how it feels to be stepped on.” Melanie’s voice was light, airy, and dripping with malice. “Make it sad. Make it real. The rich folks at the gala love a good story about someone falling from grace.” My hands shook. “That’s public humiliation.” “Exactly,” Melanie giggled. “I want to humiliate you.” The alley was dead silent, save for the howling wind. Melanie tapped my cheek. “Eva, do you really think you’re in any position to say no? If you don’t take this money, the hospital will cut off your treatment tomorrow. Besides, your job isn’t done yet. I still have the rest of your payout.” My fingertips were freezing. Melanie was like a snake, biting exactly where it hurt. I needed the money. I was dying. I had to pay the hospital bills. And somewhere deep inside, a stupid, pathetic part of me still hoped Julian would search for the truth. But today, Julian had thrown that check at my feet. He wasn’t going to look for the truth. He just wanted me gone. I reached down and gripped the gold card in my chest pocket. Melanie smiled. “That’s a good girl. Play the clown nicely tomorrow, and don’t ruin the mood.” “How much?” I asked. Melanie blinked. I gripped the card tighter. “I want to know the exact amount. Verbal promises mean nothing to me.” “Always about the money. You really are cheap,” Melanie spat. “Yes,” I looked at her with empty eyes. “I only care about the money.” Melanie looked at me like I was a stray dog. “There’s fifty thousand on this card. Do a good job tomorrow, and I’ll give you another hundred thousand.” “Write it down,” I demanded, holding my ground. “Julian promised me dignity today, and look how that turned out.” Annoyed, Melanie raised her hand to slap me. But I grabbed her wrist! I used every ounce of strength I had left. The wound in my abdomen ripped completely, and warm blood began to soak through my gray uniform. My face was as white as a ghost, but my grip didn’t loosen. “Write. It. Down.” Terrified by the sheer desperation in my eyes, Melanie took a step back. She wrenched her wrist free, pulled a notepad and a pen from her bag, scribbled a note, and slapped it onto my chest. “A hundred thousand after the gala! Happy now, you freak?” Melanie turned and walked away in her high heels. After a few steps, she looked back with a wicked smile. “Oh, by the way. Julian will be there tomorrow.” “When you’re up there begging like a dog, make sure to look him in the eyes. Let him see what his ex-wife is willing to do for a few bucks.” I didn’t look back. The cold wind blew down the alley, plastering the bloody uniform against my skin. The pain was so bad I couldn’t even stand straight, but I held the note and the card tightly in my hand. Pain didn’t matter. Humiliation didn’t matter. As long as the money was real, I could take it. As soon as I walked out of the Sterling building, my phone buzzed violently. It was a final notice from the hospital. I glanced at the screen, turned it off, and kept walking. I had to go to the gala tomorrow.

    Eva’s POV Before the charity gala started, Melanie pushed me into a dark corner near the backstage entrance. “When the host calls your name, you get up there.” I clutched the thin note in my hand. “Do you have the remaining hundred thousand?” Melanie’s smile instantly vanished. “Do you think I’m going to run off on you?” “Yes.” Melanie stared at me and let out a cold laugh. “Fine. If you beg well enough up there, you’ll get your money.” From the main hall, loud applause echoed. The host’s voice boomed through the high-end speakers. “Tonight, besides our new project launch, we have a very special guest. We have the former heiress of the Vance family. She’s here to tell us what it feels like to fall from the clouds straight into the dirt.” The crowd erupted into laughter. Melanie patted the dust off my shoulder with fake kindness. “Go on. Show the high society of this city how cheap your life is.” I walked onto the stage like a robot. The bright spotlights hit me, making my vision go blurry. The first person I saw in the front row was Julian. Melanie sat right next to him, tilting her chin up at me. Julian, however, was looking down at his tablet, not even sparing me a glance. The host handed me the microphone, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Ms. Vance, I heard you used to be a high-society socialite, but now you’re cleaning toilets at Sterling. How do you handle such a massive fall?” The crowd laughed even louder. I held the microphone. The cold metal felt freezing against my sweaty palm. “I have no choice but to handle it.” The laughter grew louder. I looked at the crowd with an expressionless face. “The Vance family is broke. My father is dead. I have no other skills, so I clean. I do the dirtiest work.” Some people pulled out their phones, recording me like I was an animal in a zoo. “I used to sit where you are sitting, listening to others. Now, I stand here as a stepping stone. I am your entertainment.” The laughter in the room slowly died down. Melanie’s smile stiffened, and she glanced nervously at Julian. Julian’s hand paused over his tablet. He finally raised his head and looked at me on the stage. Our eyes met. His eyes were cold, filled with disgust. He looked at me as if my public humiliation was entirely my own fault. The wound in my abdomen was throbbing violently. I could barely stand. But I gripped the microphone and kept going. “I need money. I will do anything for money. Cleaning, experimental drug trials, taking the fall for others… as long as you pay me, I will do it.” When I said “taking the fall,” the room went completely silent. Melanie’s face turned pale. Julian’s fingers gripped his tablet so hard his knuckles turned white. The host, sweating profusely, tried to salvage the situation. “Ms. Vance, you have a… unique sense of humor. So, what is the biggest lesson you learned from your recent theft?” I stared directly into Julian’s eyes through the glaring lights. “The lesson is… never treat someone else’s promise as your lifeline.” Julian’s eyes darkened completely, a terrifying aura radiating from him. Melanie couldn’t sit still anymore. She stood up, flashing a perfect smile as she grabbed a microphone. “Eva is just nervous. She’s talking nonsense. Please don’t mind her.” She walked quickly onto the stage, standing right beside me. She put a loving hand on my arm. But out of the crowd’s sight, her sharp acrylic nails dug deep into the flesh of my arm! “We brought her here tonight to show everyone that even when people make mistakes, Sterling Enterprises is generous enough to give them a second chance.” My arm was bleeding from her grip, turning numb with pain. The crowd erupted into applause, praising Sterling’s generosity. This wasn’t a charity event. This was Melanie stripping me of my last shred of humanity, cutting me piece by piece. The moment the gala ended, Melanie shoved me into an empty dressing room. The second the door closed, her fake smile vanished, and she slapped me hard across the face! Slap! My head spun. I tasted copper in my mouth as my lip split open. “Who gave you permission to talk about the drug trials and taking the fall?!” Melanie screamed, her face contorting with rage. I wiped the blood from my lip, my eyes dead. “I didn’t mention Sterling. I didn’t mention you.” Melanie sneered. She grabbed a stack of cash from her bag and threw it at me. The bills scattered all over the floor. “Take it and get out!” I looked at the scattered money. “We agreed on a hundred thousand. This is barely twenty thousand.” “You signed a note,” I said, pulling out the paper. Melanie snatched it from my hand, tore it into pieces, and threw the shreds in my face. Then, she stepped on the pieces. “Now there is no note,” Melanie whispered maliciously. “Eva, look at yourself. You get what I decide to give you. A cheap life is easy to keep alive. This is enough to keep you breathing!” Suddenly, the door was pushed open. Julian stood at the entrance. His eyes swept over the scattered cash on the floor, finally landing on my bleeding lip. Melanie gasped, her eyes instantly welling with tears. She immediately put on a helpless, crying voice. “Julian! I was just trying to give her some extra help because I felt bad for her, but she said it wasn’t enough… She almost ruined our project launch on stage…” Julian stepped into the room, looking down at me. I didn’t argue. I knew exactly who he would believe. I bent down. Under Melanie’s mocking gaze and Julian’s disgust, I picked up the cash, bill by bill, folded them neatly, and put them in my pocket. My desperate, pathetic behavior for money completely set Julian off. His cold voice cut through the air. “Eva, you really have no shame left.” I paused. I looked up, wiping the blood from my mouth with the back of my hand, and looked at him calmly. “Shame doesn’t pay for my medical bills, Julian.” Julian’s eyes turned ice-cold. He pointed at the door. “Take your money and get the hell out.” I dragged my heavy feet past him. As I walked by, Melanie whispered, “Spend it wisely, Eva. You won’t get another chance like this.” I didn’t stop. I pressed the twenty thousand dollars deep into my pocket, even though my hands were covered in my own blood. Twenty thousand was still money. It was still a chance to live. I couldn’t cry. I wouldn’t cry.

    Eva’s POV By the time I finished at the clinic, the money I had left wasn’t even enough for a basic painkiller shot. The nurse at the counter pushed the bill back to me with a cold look. “Since you can’t pay the balance, we’re stopping your antibiotics and pain meds today.” I nodded quietly, folded the bill, and put it in my pocket. My abdominal wound had started leaking pus and blood. The rough gauze was stuck to my flesh, and every step felt like a rusty knife twisting in my stomach. I couldn’t afford a taxi, so I had to walk all the way back to the Sterling building in the freezing rain. My old backpack was still in my locker at the back entrance. It held everything I owned, including the last photo of my father. By the time I reached the back gate, it was pitch black. I leaned against the cold brick wall, trying to slip through the employee entrance, but two security guards blocked me. “Stop right there! Aren’t you the janitor who got fired yesterday?” one of them sneered. “Management gave strict orders. A thief like you isn’t allowed anywhere near this property.” My throat was so dry it felt like it was on fire. “I just want my backpack…” “How do we know you’re not trying to steal more stuff?” The guard shoved my shoulder hard. “Get lost! Don’t die on our doorstep. It’s bad luck.” I was already weak from the fever, and the shove sent me crashing against the rough brick wall. My vision went black, and I slid down onto the wet pavement. My gray uniform was covered in mud. I tried to stand up twice, but my legs gave out. Just then, footsteps came from inside the building. The guards immediately put on fake, polite smiles. I forced my head up, looking past the guard’s legs. It was Julian. He was walking out with his mother, Victoria. She was draped in an expensive wool shawl, looking as arrogant as ever. Julian saw me on the ground. But his glance lasted only a fraction of a second. Before I could even beg for help, he looked away in disgust, as if looking at me would dirty his eyes. Victoria frowned, not hiding her disgust. “Why is she still lingering around like a stray dog?” The guard quickly tried to take credit. “Ma’am, she claims she’s here for her bag. We were just about to kick this thief out!” “Her bag?” Victoria sneered, walking over to stand right in front of me. “The Vance family is dead and broke. What could possibly belong to you? You stole from our family, and now you’re trying to sneak back in?” My fingernails dug into the cracks of the pavement. “My bag… has my father’s picture…” “Julian,” Victoria turned to her son, her voice annoyed. “Melanie is waiting for us at the restaurant. Don’t waste your time on trash like her.” Julian was silent for two seconds. Then, he spoke coldly. “Let security handle it. Throw her out of the property.” Those few words crushed the very last ounce of hope I had left. The guards immediately grabbed my arms, lifting me up roughly. The sudden movement ripped my wound completely. Warm blood and pus began to run down my leg. I bit my lip hard, tasting iron. I looked at the man in the expensive suit. “Julian.” He stopped. “Are you really… not even going to ask?” My voice was as fragile as cracked glass. Julian didn’t turn around. But Victoria snapped at me, “Ask what? Ask how you beg for money on stage? Eva, if you had any decency left, your dead father would be rolling in his grave seeing you like this!” My face went pale. Julian finally turned his head. There was no pity in his eyes, only a cold warning. “Enough. Don’t mention her father. He doesn’t deserve it.” Those words hurt more than any slap Victoria could have given me. My father had loved Julian like his own son. He used to pat his shoulder and say, “Julian is a good, honorable boy.” My father trusted him, and so did I. But now, Julian was stepping on that trust, grinding it into the mud. “Throw her out,” Julian ordered coldly, walking away. The guards dragged me like a dead dog and tossed me onto the cold concrete sidewalk outside the main gates. My knees hit the curb hard, skinning my palms. The cash in my pocket spilled out, fluttering in the wind toward the street. One of the guards kicked the loose bills toward my face. “Get lost! You make me sick!” The heavy iron gates slammed shut behind them. The city traffic hummed in the distance, headlights flashing over my bleeding body. I crawled on the cold pavement, picking up the dirty bills one by one, smoothing them out, and tucking them back into my pocket. With trembling hands, I pulled out the worn photo of my father. The edges were white and frayed. He was standing in front of our old house, smiling so warmly. I pressed the photo against my bleeding palm, my body shivering like a leaf in the wind. “Dad…” My voice was choked with blood. “I can’t… do this anymore.” Julian’s car drove off into the night. No one looked back.

    Eva’s POV I woke up from the freezing wind on the street corner. My hand was still clutching the crumpled photo of my father. Suddenly, my phone screen lit up. It was a text from an unknown number. It was an address in the old industrial district, with a simple signature: An old friend of your father. I stared at the message for a long time. My fever had gone down slightly, but my body felt completely hollow. I didn’t go back to the clinic. Instead, I used my last few dollars to take a bus to the address. I had to see this person. The shop in the old district was run-down, the metal shutter half-open. When I pushed the door open, a white-haired man was wiping down picture frames. He turned around, and when he saw my state, he froze. “Are you… Eva?” I nodded quietly, holding out my father’s photo. “You knew my dad.” The man was Tom Miller. He took the photo, his eyes turning red. “Back when your father was at his peak, everyone in this city respected him. How did you end up like this?” I held onto the edge of the desk, my knuckles white. “Tom… why did my dad go bankrupt? Why did he jump from that building?” Tom’s face fell. He sighed, reached into the deepest drawer of his cabinet, and pulled out a dusty, yellowed folder. “The night before your father passed, he came to see me. He said if you never asked, I should keep this a secret forever. But if you ever came looking for the truth, I should give this to you.” I stared at the folder. Tom looked at me, his voice shaking. “Eva, for the past three years, have you really believed that the Vance family went bankrupt because of bad management? Have you really believed you owed Julian Sterling?” My throat closed up. Yes. Julian told me, Victoria told me, the whole city told me that my father had left a mess that almost ruined the Sterling family. That was why I kept my head down. Why I took the blame. Why I let them stomp on my dignity! Tom shoved the folder into my hands, his teeth clenched in anger. “Your father didn’t owe them a single dime! He put up the entire Vance family’s assets as collateral to save the Sterlings when their project ran out of funding!” “But when the project failed, the Sterling family pulled out to save themselves! Your father was hunted by banks and loan sharks until he had no choice but to end his life!” “The Sterlings saved their company, and your father became their scapegoat!” Boom. It felt like a bomb went off in my head. My hands shook violently as I tore open the folder. Inside was a property transfer document and several old receipts. Every single page had my father’s signature and the Sterling family’s stamp. The documents clearly stated: The Sterling family agrees to cover all subsequent project losses. But that line had been crossed out with black ink. A liability waiver page had been added to the back. And on that page, there was no signature from my father, only the Sterling family’s stamp! I stared at the red stamp, my vision going black. My chest ached with pure hatred and despair. The Sterling family took everything my father had, bled us dry, and then brainwashed me into thinking I was the one who owed them?! “Your father wasn’t a criminal,” Tom sobbed. “He was set up by the Sterlings!” The sharp edges of the paper cut into my palm, my blood dripping onto the documents. I remembered Victoria sneering, “You stole from us.” I remembered Julian telling the guards to throw me out like trash. I remembered him throwing the check at my feet. This time, the pain wasn’t from my surgical wound. It was in my bones. It was the pain of being skinned alive and serving the very people who destroyed my family. “Does Julian know?” My voice sounded like it was coming from a grave. Tom paused. “Julian was young back then. He might not have known the details. But his mother definitely did!” I let out a laugh. It was a dry, raspy sound, and blood leaked from my split lip. “Just because he didn’t know, he had the right to drag me through the dirt?” Tom couldn’t answer. With red eyes, he pulled a heavy metal box from his desk. “Your father left this for you. He said inside are all the proofs that the Vance family never owed anyone anything.” I took the metal box. At that moment, my body reached its absolute limit. “Eva, you look terrible. Let me take you to the hospital!” Tom said, trying to help me. “No,” I pushed his hand away, holding the folder and the metal box tightly against my chest. “I need to go to Sterling. I need to ask him myself.” I turned and walked out. The afternoon sun was blinding. As soon as I crossed the street, the sounds of the city began to fade. The metal box felt heavier and heavier, and a wave of pain hit my abdomen like a tsunami. I couldn’t fall. Not yet. I had to throw these papers in Julian’s face! I had to clear my father’s name! I had to tell Julian that I didn’t owe him a damn thing! It was his family that owed us a life! I bit my lip hard, gripping the metal railing by the sidewalk. My fingernails bent back, drawing blood. But my broken body couldn’t hold on any longer. Clatter. The heavy metal box fell onto the hard asphalt. My world went black, and my body collapsed onto the street. The documents slipped out of the folder, fluttering in the wind. Bystanders screamed and rushed over. “Call 911! Someone collapsed!” In the last second of consciousness, my fingers were still gripping the edge of the documents. I was not a criminal.

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  • He Gave My Shoes to Another Woman

    Ethan was famously cold and arrogant, a man who never bent his knee to anyone. Yet, he would willingly drop to one knee just to change my shoes. He always said my ankle had an old injury and would ache if I stood for too long. So, in the trunk of his car, there was always a pair of white sneakers kept just for me. Everyone joked that Ethan spoiled me so much that I had lost the ability to take care of myself. He didn’t care at all. He would just wrap his arm around me and smile. “I spoiled her. Anyone got a problem with that?” That was until his childhood friend, Chloe, whose family had just gone bankrupt, moved into our home. Tonight, at the end of the charity gala, Chloe sprained her ankle. I was about to ask someone to bring over some slippers, but Ethan had already knelt down. He slid my exclusive white sneakers onto Chloe’s feet. “If you give me these shoes, Olivia won’t be mad, right?” Ethan didn’t even look up. His tone was incredibly casual. “They’re just shoes. She’s not that petty.” “Chloe’s ankle is swollen. Just deal with it tonight, Olivia. I’ll buy you new ones tomorrow. You can have as many pairs as you want.” The chill of the marble floor seeped through the thin soles of my high heels. He took it for granted that because we were married, my things were his to give away. But he forgot. The person whose shoes were taken… her feet hurt, too.

    When we got home, Chloe looked down at the shoes on her feet and wiggled her toes slightly. “Olivia, your shoes are so comfortable. No wonder Ethan always keeps them ready for you.” I said nothing. Ethan’s voice was flat. “Just wear them for tonight.” “She has an old ankle injury. She can’t just wear any shoes.” Chloe immediately looked up. “I don’t deserve such nice shoes anyway. If Olivia wants them back, I’ll take them off right now.” Ethan reached out to stop her and looked at me. “Olivia, I’ll tend to your foot in a minute.” I suddenly remembered many years ago when he first found out about my ankle injury. He had frowned just like this. Back then, he said, From now on, I will make sure every path you walk is soft. The path was still the same path. It was just that he had given the softest part to someone else. Chloe sat on the sofa, carefully lifting her leg. “Ethan, where is the first-aid kit? It hurts a bit.” I stood in the entryway, bending over to change into my house slippers. The back of the heel rubbed against my raw wound, making my fingers tremble. Ethan looked back and saw this, his footsteps pausing for a second. Chloe let out a soft gasp. “It looks even more swollen now.” Ethan ultimately turned toward the living room and pulled the medical kit from the cabinet. That tube of ointment was the one I frequently used during my physical therapy. My name was still written on the label. Chloe held it in her hand, looking at it. “Olivia, can I use this?” Ethan unscrewed the cap for her. “It’s just ointment.” He handed the ointment to Chloe, then stood up and walked over to me. “Let me see your foot.” I took a half-step back. His brow furrowed. “Olivia, don’t start a fight right now.” Chloe immediately spoke up. “Olivia, please don’t misunderstand. Ethan is just helping me out first.” “You two have been together for so many years. You’re obviously the one he loves the most.” She sounded so understanding. But those white sneakers on her feet were blindingly clean. I looked down at my own feet. The edge of my high heels had worn my skin raw. A bit of blood was smudged on the edge of my sock. It wasn’t much, but it stung badly. Ethan saw it too. “Tomorrow, I’ll go with you to the store…” I quietly declined. “No need.” His movements froze. “It’s just a pair of shoes. Are you really going to hold a grudge over this?” Chloe gently tugged at his sleeve. “Ethan, maybe Olivia doesn’t care about the shoes. Maybe she cares that you put them on me.” The living room fell silent. Ethan didn’t deny it. I looked up at him. In the past, whenever anyone said something like that, he would always defend me. He would tell them that Olivia wasn’t petty; she was just injured and knew what pain felt like. But now, he just rubbed his temples. “Chloe just got back, and she’s not used to a lot of things yet. Just cut her some slack.” Cut her some slack. I had yielded the guest room, half of my walk-in closet, and my usual spot at the breakfast table. Now, it was my shoes. I didn’t say another word. I turned and walked back to the bedroom. Ethan followed me to the door. “Olivia.” I stopped. “Tomorrow, I’ll have the boutique deliver everything from your favorite brand. Don’t throw a fit tonight. Chloe’s family just went through a crisis. She can’t handle any emotional stress right now.” My hand rested on the doorframe. The throbbing pain in my heel came in waves. “Ethan, I feel pain too.” He stared at me, looking as if he didn’t understand. Chloe called out softly from the living room. “Ethan, I think I put too much ointment on.” Ethan looked at me for two seconds before finally turning around. “Get some rest. Don’t overthink things.” After the door closed, I sat on the edge of the bed and peeled my socks off. The fabric was stuck to the wound. As I tore it away, I bit my lip. From outside the door, Chloe’s giggles drifted in. “Ethan, Olivia’s shoe size is almost the same as mine. Can I keep these shoes for now?” “I have to meet some clients at the office tomorrow.” Ethan’s voice came through the door. “Just wear them. She has plenty of other shoes.”

    The next morning, Ethan stood in front of the shoe cabinet. “Come to the office with me this afternoon. We’ll talk about the shoes later.” “Didn’t you spend six months designing that dance therapy curriculum for disabled kids? We are finalizing the launch process today.” Chloe walked out of the guest room, wearing my white sneakers. “Olivia, look. Ethan really cares about you.” Ethan didn’t respond to her. He pushed a shoe box to my feet. “These are similar to the ones from last night. Wear them.” I looked at the shoes in the box. They were expensive, and very soft. But they weren’t mine. Seeing that I didn’t move, Ethan’s tone cooled. “Olivia, I’ve already replaced them.” Replaced. It turned out that to him, some things only required a new package. I put the shoes on. My heel still hurt, but at least I could walk. The launch event was on the first floor of the company’s exhibition hall. My curriculum display board was pushed to the very back. The main screen at the front, however, showed Chloe’s face. She was labeled as the “Charity Ambassador.” Chloe walked up from behind and warmly took my arm. “Olivia, you don’t mind, right?” “I used to take dance lessons too. Although I’m not as professional as you, my family is in a tough spot now. Ethan wanted to give me some exposure to help me start over.” I pulled my hand back. “This is a rehabilitation project, not your comeback stage.” Chloe’s eyes welled with tears instantly. “I just wanted to help.” “Olivia, do you think I don’t deserve to be here?” Ethan walked over right at that moment. He looked at Chloe first. “What’s wrong?” Chloe shook her head. “Nothing. Olivia probably thinks I don’t understand rehabilitation. She’s afraid I’ll embarrass her.” Ethan looked at me. “Olivia, Chloe is just reading the script on stage. You’re still in charge of the professional execution.” I asked him, “Why didn’t you tell me beforehand?” Ethan’s brow furrowed. “I was afraid you’d overthink it.” “Besides, this isn’t a big deal. The successful launch of the project is more important than who stands on stage.” In the past, Ethan knew exactly why I created this project. After my ankle injury, my biggest fear wasn’t that I could no longer dance. It was being pinned down by a casual, “Well, you’re broken anyway.” That was why I wanted to give those injured kids a path where they could walk slowly. But now, he hid my name in a corner and gave all the spotlight to Chloe. The event coordinator whispered, “Ms. Olivia, are you still going on stage to present the curriculum later?” Ethan answered for me first. “Her foot is bothering her. She won’t be presenting. Let her manage the backstage flow.” When the launch event started, I sat in the corner of the backstage. When the slide for the curriculum credits came up, the screen flickered. The original line: Curriculum Designer: Olivia had been changed to Charity Founder: Chloe. When Ethan returned backstage, I handed him the run sheet. “Where is my name?” He glanced at it. “The PR department changed it on their own. I’ll have them add it back later.” “You have me. Isn’t that enough?” I flipped to the sign-off page. In the Project Consultant column, Chloe’s name was already stamped with the company seal. My name had been moved to the appendix.

    When I returned to the studio, Chloe was standing in front of the mirror practicing her moves, still wearing my white sneakers. Ethan held a new class schedule in his hands. “I asked Chloe to shadow a few classes. She needs to familiarize herself with the project.” I took the schedule. My hours had been cut in half, and Chloe’s name was scheduled for Saturday morning. That was the class with the most children. “Who changed this?” Ethan said, “I did.” I looked at him. “Do you even know the condition of these kids’ ankles? Do you know which ones can’t spin, and which ones can’t stand for too long?” His brow furrowed slightly. “Olivia, don’t make a simple matter sound so dramatic.” “Chloe is just coordinating the promotion. She won’t actually be teaching the movements.” Chloe immediately nodded. “Olivia, I’ll listen to you. I’ll do whatever you want me to do.” As she spoke, her gaze fell on the glass cabinet in the corner. Inside the cabinet was an old pair of ballet slippers. The fabric had yellowed, and the silk ribbons were washed soft. That was the pair my mom bought for me when I first stood up after my surgery. She had stroked my head back then and said, It doesn’t matter if you can’t walk fast. Just being able to walk is enough. Chloe walked over. “These shoes have so much history. Can I borrow them for some promo photos?” I spoke almost instantly. “No.” Her hand stopped on the cabinet door, and her eyes turned red again. “Olivia, I just think they’re really meaningful. I didn’t want to steal them.” Ethan looked at me. “They’re just an old pair of shoes. She’ll return them after the shoot.” My tone was resolute. “My mother gave them to me.” He paused. For a second, I thought he would remember. He would remember the year I came out of the operating room, crying because I could never dance again, and how he had placed these exact shoes by my bed. He had said, Olivia, take it slow. I’ll help you stand up again. But Ethan only said, “That makes them even more perfect for the project’s background story. People will connect with it more.” Chloe softly added, “Exactly. Olivia’s journey can inspire so many people.” I gripped the key to the cabinet. Ethan’s face darkened. “Olivia, are you really going to be this petty over a charity project?” “Don’t embarrass yourself in front of the kids.” The children were standing quietly nearby. Suddenly, I found myself unable to speak. Ethan reached out and took the key from my palm. “She’ll return them as soon as she’s done.” The moment the cabinet door opened, a sharp pain shot through my old ankle injury. Chloe took out the old ballet slippers. “Thank you, Olivia. I’ll be very careful.” During the shoot that afternoon, she couldn’t fit into them. The shoes were half a size too small. Chloe looked at Ethan. “Maybe we should forget it. My feet are a bit wide. Forcing them in will ruin them.” Ethan looked at me. “Olivia, how did you fit into them back then?” I said quietly, “Because they’re my shoes.” He thought for a moment. “Cut the silk ribbons off and wrap them around her current shoes. The effect will be the same.” I looked up at him. Chloe had already picked up the scissors. “Olivia, I really will replace them for you.” Snip. The old silk ribbons were severed. I stood frozen, my palms turning ice-cold. Seeing the expression on my face, Ethan looked as if he wanted to say something. But Chloe wrapped the ribbons around her sneakers and twirled in front of the mirror. “Does it look good, Ethan?” Ethan glanced at her. “It’s fine.” After the shoot, the old ballet slippers were carelessly tossed onto the table. The fabric had a dusty footprint on it, and the ribbons were reduced to frayed stumps. I picked them up, rubbing the spot with my thumb for a long time. But the dirt wouldn’t come off. Ethan walked over. “I’ll have someone restore them.” He reached out to touch them, but I pulled the shoes back into my bag. Ethan’s eyes darkened. “Olivia, I’ve noticed you’ve been getting harder and harder to communicate with lately.” Chloe whispered from the side, “It’s all my fault. Olivia probably thinks I stole her memories.” Ethan rubbed his temples. “Don’t let your mind wander.” I grabbed my bag and walked out. Ethan called after me. “Come home tonight. We need to talk.” I didn’t answer. After leaving the studio, I sent a message to Lucas. “Does the rehabilitation center you mentioned still need a curriculum designer?” The reply came almost instantly. “Yes. Have you made up your mind?” I looked at the ruined ballet slippers in my bag. The next second, Ethan’s call came through.

    Ethan didn’t ask where I had gone. He only said over the phone: “Come home early tonight. Chloe’s press release needs your sign-off.” I stood on the sidewalk, my ankle wrapped in a cold brace. When I returned to our historic townhouse, Ethan’s PR team was sitting in the living room. Chloe, wearing the sneakers tied with my ruined silk ribbons, was reviewing the interview outline. “Olivia, you’re finally back.” “Some people online are saying I stole your project. Ethan said it would all blow over if you just clarify things.” Ethan handed me an iPad. It showed a statement. The gist of it was that I had voluntarily stepped back from the promotion, and Chloe was simply helping me present the charity work. The so-called “stealing of shoes and projects” was just a misunderstanding between friends. After reading it, I placed the iPad back on the table. “I’m not posting this.” The PR manager’s expression shifted. But Ethan remained calm. “Olivia, the public backlash has already started. Just say a word. It’s better for everyone.” Chloe bit her lip. “Olivia, I’m really getting dragged online.” “You know my family just went bankrupt. I have nothing left now.” I stared at the ribbons on her feet. Ethan stood up. “Olivia, enough.” “I replaced the shoes, and you’re still working on the project.” “Chloe just needs a temporary opportunity. Why do you have to push her into a corner like this?” I shot back, “What about you? Have you not pushed me into a corner?” He stared at me, frustration flashing in his eyes. “You have the studio, you have Blackwood Enterprises’ resources, and you have me.” “What does Chloe have?” I suddenly found it incredibly laughable. So having him was, in his eyes, a form of compensation that could wipe away all my grievances. Ethan handed me his phone. “Olivia, don’t make things difficult for me in front of others.” Chloe said softly, “Ethan, let it go. If Olivia doesn’t want to, forget it. I shouldn’t have come back anyway.” She stood up to leave but tripped on her feet. Ethan caught her immediately. The ribbon-wrapped sneakers struck the leg of the coffee table, ripping the old fabric further. My mind went completely blank. Ethan followed my gaze, and his face turned pale for a split second. But Chloe cried first. “I’m sorry, I didn’t do it on purpose. I’m just so clumsy. I can’t do anything right.” Ethan helped her sit down, then turned to me. “Don’t look at her like that.” “Olivia, if you don’t post the statement today, I will freeze the funding for the project.” “The studio’s lease is under Blackwood Enterprises. Think carefully.” The PR team remained silent. Chloe kept her head down, but her fingers were tightly gripping the frayed ribbon. I heard my own voice ask, “So you want me to endorse her lie?” Ethan said, “It’s not an endorsement. It’s for the bigger picture.” The bigger picture. I nodded and took the phone. Ethan’s expression softened as I posted the statement exactly as written. Within minutes, the comments shifted. Some praised my generosity. Some pitied Chloe. Others said that anyone truly doing charity wouldn’t care about getting credit. Seeing the public opinion die down, Ethan looked relieved. “Tomorrow, I’ll take you to buy shoes. You can pick whatever limited edition you want.” “Olivia, let’s stop fighting.” I looked at the smear of ointment on his cuff. I suddenly remembered how he had opened the tube of medicine for Chloe last night. My heel was still taped with a band-aid, and it still hurt to walk. But I no longer wanted him to know. The next day, Ethan actually went to the luxury boutique. The sales associate lined up ten pairs of limited-edition flats. The colors, leather, and sizes were all chosen according to my taste. “Wrap them all up,” Ethan said. The associate smiled. “Mr. Blackwood is so good to his wife.” Ethan’s fingers paused, but he didn’t deny it. At nine in the evening, he returned to the townhouse carrying ten luxury shoe boxes. The lights in the living room were off. He frowned and called out, “Olivia?” No one answered. Ethan put the shoe boxes down in the entryway and opened the shoe cabinet. The row that used to be filled with my shoes was completely empty. His hands froze. The door to the walk-in closet was half-open. Only empty hangers remained inside. My suitcase was gone, my passport was gone, and even the ruined ballet slippers in the glass cabinet were gone. On the top shelf of the shoe cabinet, only a single key remained. Beneath the key lay a divorce agreement, signed with my name. The luxury shoe boxes in Ethan’s hands crashed to the floor.

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  • My Wife Thought I Was Still Deaf

    The day I took my wedding ring to the jeweler to get it resized, the appraiser stared at it through his magnifying glass for a long time. He looked up, frowning. “Sir, is the name engraved inside this ring your wife’s?” I froze. I had worn this ring for five years. I never knew there was anything written inside. Three years ago, an accident left me deaf in both ears. My right hand was ruined, too. Because the ring was swollen onto my finger, I could never take it off to look. “What does it say?” I asked, my voice slightly raspy. He slid the ring off—a painful process—and pointed to the inner band. “Adrien.” My name is Julian Vance. Adrien Hayes was my student. For years, I funded his tuition at the Royal College of Music. I paid for his life abroad. I treated him like my own brother. My fingers trembled. I could barely stand. When I got home, the study door wasn’t fully closed. I heard Victoria’s voice coming from inside. She was on the phone, her tone sickeningly sweet. She had no idea that just last week, I had secretly gotten a cochlear implant. I could hear everything now. “Just wait a little longer,” Victoria whispered into the phone, giggling. “Once that deaf cripple dies, his estate, his music catalog, his connections—it will all be ours.” I stood in the hallway, my blood running cold. Our five-year marriage was nothing but a calculated scam. Slowly, I pulled out my phone, opened Snapchat, and hit the voice recorder. Over the next few days, I quietly gathered every contract Victoria had signed using my name, and every single dollar she had transferred behind my back over the last three years. I packed them all into a secure folder. And sent it directly to my attorney.

    When I walked into the living room, both Victoria and Adrien were there. Seeing me, Victoria immediately began mouthing her words. She moved her lips in exaggerated, slow motions, as if teaching a toddler. “Adrien’s studio is being remodeled. He’s going to stay with us for a while.” I looked at her face—a face I once loved, but now felt entirely foreign. I gave a slow, vacant nod. Being deaf for three years had made her think of me as nothing but a brainless, compliant ghost. Adrien dragged his suitcase inside. As he brushed past me, his nose wrinkled in open disgust. Right in front of my face, he typed something on Victoria’s phone and tilted the screen so I could see. *Julian smells like cheap medicine. It’s disgusting.* Those words felt like a physical slap. Victoria just laughed, her eyes crinkling. “He takes a lot of pills. Just bear with it, sweetie.” I stood rooted to the spot, unable to move. To them, I was just a smelly piece of broken furniture. That night, Victoria told me to clear out of the master bedroom. “Adrien needs absolute quiet to compose. Go sleep in the guest room.” I gathered my blanket and pillows. I made trip after trip to the cramped guest room down the hall. Victoria just leaned against the doorframe, watching me. She didn’t lift a single finger to help. When I passed her, she instinctively took a step back, terrified she might catch the “smell of medicine” from my clothes. That tiny movement cut deep. I had watched her make that same movement for three years. Only today did I realize it was pure disgust. That night, lying on the narrow guest bed, I stared at the ceiling. My heartbeat thudded loudly in my new implant. It was a brutal reminder: *You can hear now.* *But all you can hear is how much your wife loathes you.* The next morning, I was in the kitchen making breakfast. Suddenly, the beautiful sound of a grand piano echoed from the living room. Ever since my ears and hands were ruined three years ago, no one had touched my Steinway. Adrien was sitting at the bench. He was playing the exact Chopin piece that had won me the International Gold Medal years ago. He missed three notes in the first verse. Each mistake grated on my ears like nails on a chalkboard. My hand shook violently. The chef’s knife slipped, slicing deep into my index finger. Blood gushed out, staining the cutting board a bright, sickening red. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the ache in my chest. Adrien spun around. Seeing my bleeding finger, a smirk played on his lips. He turned back and kept playing, deliberately missing another note. It was a silent, arrogant boast. He was mocking me. He was playing with the one thing I used to be proud of, treating it like garbage. Victoria came downstairs. Seeing the blood on the counter, her face instantly fell into a scowl. “There’s blood everywhere. How filthy.” She didn’t walk over. She didn’t ask if I was okay. Instead, she walked straight to the piano. She took Adrien’s hands off the keys, cradling them gently. “Stop playing,” she murmured, her voice dripping with maternal sweetness. “The keys are cold. Don’t ruin your precious hands.” She examined his fingers with absolute devotion. I stood by the kitchen door, wrapping my bleeding finger in a dirty apron. The blood soaked through the fabric, cold and sticky. Three years ago, the day my hand was crushed, Victoria was supposedly on a business trip. I had called her seventeen times. She didn’t answer once. Now I finally understood. Her tenderness was never meant for me. I clamped my jaw shut, turned around, and finished making their breakfast. That afternoon, I went to the clinic for a follow-up on my implant. As I was walking out, someone called my name. “Julian?” I turned. It was Clara Montgomery. Three years ago, before my accident, she was the conductor who contracted me the most. She was a rising star in the orchestral world. After my accident, my social circle vanished overnight. Only Clara had visited me in the hospital. Back then, when I couldn’t hear, she wrote a note on a piece of scrap paper: *The stage will always be waiting for you. Just get better.* But after my hand was declared permanently ruined, I was too ashamed to ever face her again. “I heard you got the implant,” Clara said, stepping closer. “Can you hear me?” I stared at her. For three years, the first person to ask if I could hear wasn’t my wife. It was Clara. “Yes,” I said, my voice cracking slightly. “I can hear.” She glanced at my bandaged finger but didn’t pry. Instead, she looked me in the eye. “Julian, the contracts Victoria has been signing under your name these past three years… they’re highly illegal. I have some evidence. Do you want to take back what’s yours?” I gripped the strap of my bag. The wound on my finger throbbed. But compared to those seventeen unanswered calls, this pain was nothing. “Yes,” I said. It was the first real word of defiance I had spoken since regaining my hearing.

    On the weekend, Victoria hosted a private dinner party. She invited several prominent figures from the classical music scene. In front of everyone, she played the part of the doting, saintly wife. She placed my pills neatly next to my plate and smiled warmly at our guests. “Julian’s health is quite fragile these days. Thank you all for understanding.” The guests sighed in admiration. “Victoria is such a devoted woman. To stay with him through all this… she’s a saint.” Victoria lowered her head, wiping a fake tear from her eye. For a split second, she looked so sincere I almost believed she cared. But the moment she turned her back to the guests, her mask fell. Looking at me, she mouthed with utter, cold disgust: “Are you done playing the victim yet?” Her face still wore a polite, public smile, but her eyes were venomous. I kept my head down. I swallowed my pills, one by one. Each one felt like a jagged rock sliding down my throat. After the guests left, Adrien went upstairs. I silently began clearing the messy table. Victoria grew impatient with my slow pace. Suddenly, she gave me a violent shove. “Get out of the way, you useless mute!” I lost my balance. My hip slammed hard against the sharp corner of the mahogany dining table. A sharp, blinding pain shot through my side. I let out a muffled groan. She didn’t even bother to look back. She just swept upstairs, treating me like an annoying piece of trash she had cleared from her path. I held onto the table, slowly forcing myself up. When I pulled up my shirt in the bathroom, I saw a massive, deep purple bruise forming on my hip. The skin was scraped and oozing blood. With shaking hands, I took out my phone and took a clear photo. When I came out, Adrien was coming downstairs to get a glass of water. Seeing me clutching my side, he hurried over with a look of mock concern. But the second his hands touched me, his fingers dug brutally into the fresh bruise on my hip. I nearly fell to my knees from the sheer agony. He smiled warmly, typed a message on his phone, and flashed it in front of my eyes: *Be careful, Julian. Don’t go hurting yourself. You’re already enough of a burden to Victoria.* Looking at his innocent, smiling face, my stomach churned. I had treated this boy like a brother. I had paid for his dreams. And now, he amused himself by stepping on my wounds like I was an ant. That night, I sent the photo of my bruised hip and the video of Victoria’s abusive mouthing to Clara. She replied almost instantly on WhatsApp: *Keep collecting evidence. Until we are ready to strike, play the deaf man. The deafer, the better.* I stared at the glowing screen, then switched off the lights. In the dark, I lay awake, my teeth clenched in silence.

    When the first winter cold front hit the city, Victoria came down with a severe fever. By midnight, she was delirious. I stayed by her bedside, constantly changing the cold towel on her forehead. Through my implant, her heavy, ragged breathing sounded incredibly loud. Suddenly, she reached out and grabbed my hand. Tears rolled down her flushed cheeks. “Julian… don’t leave… please, don’t leave me…” Her eyes were closed, her brow furrowed like a child terrified of the dark. My stupid, weak heart softened. I let her hold my hand. I didn’t move an inch the entire night. I actually thought, just for a second, that maybe deep down, she still loved me. But when dawn broke, Victoria’s fever subsided. She slowly opened her eyes. The moment she realized she was holding my hand, she recoiled as if she had touched a hot stove. She grabbed a wet wipe from the nightstand and scrubbed her palm with disgust. Then she pointed coldly to the door, gesturing for me to get out. I stood there for a second, numb, before turning to leave. As the door clicked shut behind me, the tiny bit of warmth I had felt during the night froze over completely. I should have known. Her warmth was never meant for me. Even if she called my name in her delirium, she would take it back the second she woke up. At lunchtime, Adrien was carrying a pot of freshly boiled water. As he walked past me, his hand “slipped.” The entire pot of scalding water poured directly onto my right hand. The hand that had already been ruined three years ago. Instantly, my skin turned angry red and began to blister. I dropped to my knees, clutching my hand, gasping in agony. Hearing the commotion, Victoria rushed into the kitchen. She bypassed me entirely, throwing herself in front of Adrien. Her voice was frantic with worry. “Did it burn you? Are you okay? Let me see your hands!” Adrien shook his head, looking pathetic. Only then did Victoria glare at me, her face twisted in annoyance. “Can’t you just stay out of the way for once? Do you have to be a useless burden every single day?” I cradled my blistered, throbbing hand, my whole body shaking. I couldn’t even scream. I watched her gently blow on Adrien’s perfectly fine hands. The very last piece of my heart shattered into dust. That afternoon, Clara took me to the emergency room to treat the burns. The doctor looked at my blistered hand, then pulled up my medical records from three years ago. He sighed heavily. “You know, looking at your old charts… if your hand had been operated on immediately after the accident, it wouldn’t have been permanently ruined. You were brought in way too late. You missed the critical window.” I froze. “How long was the delay?” “According to the logs, there was a delay of over four hours between the injury and the surgery.” My grip on the medical chart tightened. What actually happened that night? I suddenly realized that the “accident” three years ago might not have been an accident at all.

    I pulled up my complete medical file from three years ago. As I scrolled through the digital records on my phone, my heart hammered against my ribs. I had fallen off the back of a high stage, fracturing my wrist. It should have been an easy fix. But the record showed a four-hour and twenty-minute delay before the surgery began. And the signature on the emergency authorization form wasn’t Victoria’s. It was Adrien’s. My mind went completely blank. Adrien… the boy I had raised and sponsored, was the only one with me that night. Victoria had been out of the country. Adrien was supposed to be taking care of me. I tracked down the caregiver who had worked on my hospital ward back then. The moment she saw my face, she recognized me. She gave me a look of deep pity. “Ah, the famous pianist. Yes, I remember you. And I remember that young man who always visited you.” She paused, looking around before whispering. “One night, while you were heavily sedated, he stayed in your room alone for a very long time. The next morning, your hand was swollen to twice its size… the doctor said the internal tissue was completely crushed. That’s why it never recovered.” She sighed and walked away. I sat on the plastic bench in the hospital corridor, the world spinning around me. My implant picked up nothing but the sound of my own shallow, ragged breathing. My hand wasn’t ruined by the fall. While I was unconscious, someone had deliberately destroyed it. And that person was Adrien. The boy I had given everything to. When I got home, the sound of cheerful piano music and laughter echoed from the living room. Adrien was sitting at my Steinway. Victoria stood behind him, her hands resting gently on his shoulders. They looked like a picture-perfect couple. I stood quietly in the shadow of the hallway. Adrien hit a wrong note and looked up at her poutingly. “It’s too hard…” Victoria laughed, running her fingers through his hair. “Take your time, sweetie. Your hands are precious. They are worth a thousand of this stupid piano.” She paused, her voice turning contemptuous. “Not like Julian. His hands are useless now. Honestly, it’s better this way. At least we don’t have to listen to his annoying practicing anymore.” Every word was a knife in my chest. I clenched my fists, forcing myself to remain silent. I had to keep playing the deaf man. I walked into the study, scanned the old medical logs, and saved the caregiver’s recorded statement into the secure folder. My mercy was officially gone.

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  • My Husband Divorced Me Nine Times

    “Serena is divorced, and her depression is getting worse. We need to get a divorce too.” My husband, Ethan Carter, said this as he handed me a stack of divorce papers. “What?” This wasn’t the first time we’d been down this road. But this time, his ridiculous excuse left me completely speechless. “I’m just worried that seeing me happily married will trigger her depression even more. Don’t worry, Chloe. Once she recovers, we’ll get married again. Just like before.” Ethan spoke in a casual, breezy tone. Serena Hayes and Ethan had grown up together. They were like conjoined twins, doing absolutely everything together. When Serena quit her job, Ethan immediately resigned from his high-paying corporate position to help her start a business. When Serena moved, Ethan sold our marital home behind my back just so he could buy a house in her neighborhood. When Serena had a fight with her husband, Ethan spent an entire month living in a hotel just to support her. Every single time something went wrong in Serena’s life, Ethan would turn our lives completely upside down. He lived under the delusion that after eight years of marriage, I would never actually leave him. But this time, I simply took our daughter’s hand and nodded calmly. “Okay. Let’s go sign the papers.”

    I looked at the freshly signed divorce certificate and smiled. This time, both my daughter and I were done with him. The day before we went to City Hall, it was snowing heavily. I had held my red-eyed daughter in my arms, not saying a word. Lily had a terrible fever, but she still forced a sweet, innocent smile for Ethan. “Daddy, tomorrow is my birthday. I only have one wish. Can you please not divorce Mommy? Please?” “Lily, Daddy made a promise to your Aunt Serena. I can’t break my word. It’s just a birthday. Be a good girl and stop throwing tantrums.” At that moment, Ethan was on the phone with his childhood friend, Serena. He didn’t even notice our daughter’s flushed, feverish face as he brushed her off with a laugh. “But the other kids at school are laughing at me and Mommy…” Lily’s voice was hoarse, her eyes welling with tears. Suddenly, a mocking snort came from the other end of the phone. “Wow, Ethan. Your kid is quite something. So young, yet already so manipulative, trying to control her parents’ marriage?” Ethan laughed, but his voice instantly grew cold when he addressed Lily. “Lily, if you still want me to be your dad, go back to your room right now. Otherwise, don’t even think about having a birthday party tomorrow.” Seeing Ethan’s impatient scowl, Lily could only walk back to her room in silence. My heart ached as I held my daughter. Neither of us slept that night. My mind snapped back to the rainy present. Ethan walked out of City Hall looking completely relaxed. He glanced at the divorce papers and tossed them carelessly into the trunk of his car. Looking at me and our daughter in my arms, he smiled. “Don’t worry, Chloe. This is just a temporary fix. I know Serena. She has a three-minute attention span. In a few days, she’ll get over her drama, and we can get remarried.” Right. A three-minute attention span. But that was for her life, not mine. I used to wonder why Ethan behaved this way when he was married to me. Now, I finally understood. It was simply because Lily and I combined didn’t hold a candle to Serena and their twenty-eight years of history. So, we were the ones who deserved to be humiliated and cast aside. But this time, we didn’t want to hold on anymore. Sensing the cold silence between Lily and me, Ethan broke the ice. “It’s pouring. Let me drive you guys back.” The rain was getting heavier. My car had been sent to the repair shop last week, so I hadn’t driven today. I didn’t want my sick daughter to get soaked in the rain, so I nodded. But before we could even settle into our seats, Ethan’s phone rang. The next second, Serena’s voice echoed through the car speakers. “Ethan, I got into a car accident. I’m nearby. Come pick me up.” Ethan tensed up instantly. He turned around and looked at me with an icy expression. “Chloe, you and Lily need to get out of the car right now. I have to go pick up Serena!” “It’s pouring outside, and Lily is running a high fever! You’re kicking us out of the car right now?” I looked at my drowsy daughter in my arms and couldn’t help but argue. “Lily has a fever? Since when?” Ethan looked slightly surprised, but his tone remained firm. “Lily’s fever can wait. Serena’s car accident is an emergency! There’s no room in the car for you guys anyway!” “Ubers are everywhere these days. You can easily get a ride home!” “Get out! Now!” Under Ethan’s harsh urging, I clenched my fists. But Lily gently tugged at my sleeve. “It’s okay, Mommy. Let’s get out.”

    Lily and I were dumped at the curb of City Hall. Ethan slammed on the gas, his car speeding away and splashing dirty rainwater all over us. I don’t even remember how we got home. By the time we walked through the door, Lily’s fever had gotten worse. Our housekeeper, Mrs. Hudson, took Lily from my arms, her face filled with anxiety. “Oh my god, why is Lily burning up like this? We need to get her to the ER right now! Where is Mr. Carter? Did that Serena woman drag him away again?” “That Serena is a disease! All these years, she’s done nothing but ruin your marriage!” “She’s the one who slept around and got kicked out by her own husband! You and Mr. Carter had a good life. Why do you have to suffer because of her? No marriage can survive being treated like a joke!” Even Mrs. Hudson, an outsider, saw the situation clearly. Yet, the one person who should have seen it kept playing the fool. I opened my mouth, but my throat was tight with bitterness. Before I could speak, Lily grabbed my hand. She spoke in a weak, fragile voice. “I don’t want to go to the hospital, Mommy. Today is my birthday. I don’t want to spend it in a hospital. And Daddy…” And Daddy wouldn’t be able to spend her last birthday with her. I understood what she left unsaid. I held her burning hand, my eyes stinging. “Let’s call our family doctor to come over. Lily is right. Spending her birthday in the hospital is too depressing. Mrs. Hudson, please help me decorate the living room. Let’s give Lily a proper birthday.” After a long pause, I spoke in a hoarse voice. After today, neither Lily nor I would ever wait for him again. After hours of rushing around, the living room was decorated with balloons and a beautiful birthday cake. Everything was ready. We just needed the guest of honor. Lily’s fever had finally gone down, but she was exhausted. Still, she forced her eyes open, staring intently at the front door. I couldn’t bear to watch my daughter wait in vain any longer. I closed my eyes, took out my phone, and dialed the number I knew by heart. Ring. Ring. Ring. It rang three times before it was picked up. “Hey, Ethan. Is Serena okay now? Can you please come home and spend—” But before I could finish, a loud burst of laughter and music erupted from the other end. “Ethan! You’re the only one missing from the single party! What are you standing there for? Let’s drink!” “Don’t waste Serena’s effort! She literally faked a car accident just to trick you into coming here to celebrate!” The teasing voices of his friends echoed over the phone. I held the phone, feeling as if I had been struck by lightning. Ethan’s voice was quiet, but it pierced through the noise like a dagger. “I have to go, Chloe. Take care of Lily. I’ll be back later.” With that, the line went dead. When I tried calling back, it went straight to voicemail. My face went completely numb. I was about to call him again when Lily gently pulled my sleeve. Her usually bright eyes were dull and lifeless, but she was incredibly understanding. “Mommy, don’t call him. It’s okay. Having a birthday with just Mommy is perfect.” At that moment, my heart felt like it was being ripped apart. I carried Lily to the dining table, placed the birthday hat on her head, and lit the candles. Neither of us had any appetite. We just sat there, staring at the flickering flames. We watched the candles burn down, the melting wax dripping onto the cake. That was how we spent Lily’s birthday. I don’t know when I drifted off. By the time I woke up, the clock struck midnight. Lily’s birthday was officially over. Lily was asleep on the table, her brow still furrowed in discomfort. As I picked her up to carry her to bed, I noticed she was clutching her Apple Watch tightly. Even in her sleep, she was mumbling. She had dialed that familiar number over a thousand times today. But not a single call had been answered. The icing on the cake had completely melted, and the man who promised to return never did. This nine-year farce was finally over.

    The next morning, I got up early and listed our house—the home that held seven years of memories—on a real estate app. Then, I contacted a moving company and scheduled the move for tomorrow afternoon. Once everything was set, I called my parents. I told them I would be bringing Lily back to their place for dinner tomorrow. My parents were thrilled, but their voices carried a hint of anxiety. “Chloe, is everything okay between you and Ethan? Is it because of Serena again?” “Did Ethan ask for a divorce again?” My parents lived hundreds of miles away. The first time Ethan demanded a divorce, they had driven all night to beg him to reconsider. But they were no match for Ethan’s twenty-eight years of obsession with Serena. When Ethan wanted to leave, he left. My parents had been left holding a baby who was just learning to talk, their hair turning gray from worry. The second time, my parents came again, only to be humiliated. They held our toddler, unable to find any words. The third time… The fourth time… By the eighth time, my parents couldn’t take it anymore. With red eyes, they told me to just let him go. Now, it was the ninth time. “It’s not Serena’s fault,” I said. The problem had never been Serena. It was Ethan’s enabling behavior. My parents sighed with relief, their voices brightening. “Okay, as long as you two are fine. Bring Ethan and Lily over tomorrow. We’ll make your favorite homemade pizza!” I forced a smile, my eyes turning warm. “Don’t go to too much trouble. Ethan…” Before I could finish, the front door suddenly swung open. “I don’t think that’s going to happen, Chloe. Ethan is going to be busy tomorrow. He won’t be joining you.” “Besides, you guys are divorced now. Why is your ex-husband going to your parents’ house anyway?” A smug, mocking voice echoed through the hallway. My parents heard her over the phone, and their voices shook with shock. “Another divorce? This is the ninth time!” After a brief silence, my mother tried to force a cheerful tone, though the disappointment in her voice was heartbreaking. “It’s okay, sweetheart. We’ll let you go. Talk to you later. Take care of Lily.” After hanging up, I looked toward the door. Serena was supporting a heavily intoxicated Ethan. Her hand was draped suggestively over his half-unbuckled belt, a teasing grin on her face. “Chloe, Ethan got totally wasted. I brought him back. I hope what I just said didn’t make you mad?” I closed my eyes, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. “Serena… am I home?” Ethan mumbled, slowly waking up and rubbing his temples. “Where’s Lily? Why don’t I see her?” “Ethan, yesterday was Lily’s birthday. Did you completely forget?” I finally snapped, my voice shaking with rage. “I’m sorry. My friends wouldn’t let me leave. I couldn’t make it back.” “But look, I brought her favorite pizza from that place downtown.” For once, a flash of guilt crossed Ethan’s face as he held up a takeout box. I looked down at the box. Yes, it was Lily’s favorite. I blinked back my tears, my heart softening for a brief, foolish second. “What are you doing tomorrow?” Ethan rubbed his neck, looking slightly sheepish. “Oh, it’s nothing big. I’m having a wedding with Serena tomorrow.”

    Smash— I spun around and saw Lily standing barefoot in the hallway, the plate of cake she was holding shattered on the hardwood floor. “Oh, hey there, Lily! Long time no see. You’re getting cuter and cuter. Why don’t you come live with me for a few days?” “Come on, call me Mommy.” Serena laughed, stepping forward to pat Lily’s head. But Lily lunged forward and bit Serena’s hand hard. “You bad woman! I will never call you Mommy! I only have one mommy! No one can replace her!” She bit down with all her might. Serena shrieked in pain, raising her hand to slap Lily. I quickly pulled Lily behind me, shielding her with my body. Ethan grabbed Serena’s arm. Seeing the deep teeth marks on her hand, his face darkened instantly. “Lily! Who taught you to bite people? Apologize right now!” “No! She’s the bad guy! I won’t apologize!” Lily peeked out from behind me, tears welling in her eyes, but she stubbornly refused to let them fall. Serena began to sob dramatically. “I’m sorry, Ethan. I was just teasing her. I didn’t expect her to react so violently. Maybe I shouldn’t have made that joke.” Her tears instantly set off Ethan’s temper. “You think you did nothing wrong? Aunt Serena was just playing with you! Was it necessary to bite her?” “Lily, you have deeply disappointed me!” Ethan’s chest heaved with anger. His sharp, hateful glare pierced through Lily’s fragile heart. My daughter finally broke down, tears streaming down her face. One of her tears fell onto the back of my hand, feeling as hot as a branding iron. I looked up, staring dead into the eyes of the two people in front of me. For the first time, I laughed coldly. “So, your wedding tomorrow is just a joke too?” “When is this joke going to end?” Ethan rubbed his temples, his tone softening slightly. “I’m sorry for raising my voice. I apologize.” “But Serena and I are really not what you think.” “The wedding tomorrow is just a staged event. We’re doing it to make her ex-husband jealous and force him to come back to her.” “Once they get back together, we can remarry immediately. Shouldn’t you be happy about this?” “Happy? Oh, I’m thrilled!” I laughed, tears streaming down my face. “My husband is marrying someone else. How could I not be ecstatic?” “Chloe, stop being so sarcastic. If Ethan wanted to be with me, you wouldn’t even have had a chance in the first place,” Serena sneered, pretending to offer comfort. Ethan sighed, trying to explain. “It’s just a fake ceremony. We aren’t signing any legal papers. Can you please stop making a scene?” “We need to make it look real tomorrow. Serena and I won’t be coming back tonight. You should stay home and teach our daughter some manners.” “What she did today was completely out of line.” With that, Ethan took Serena’s hand and walked out the door. Lily slowly knelt on the floor, picking up the ruined pizza. She took a bite, her tears falling onto the cold crust. “Mommy, it’s cold.” “It’s okay, sweetie. We don’t eat cold food anymore.” I smiled through my tears, gently taking the pizza from her hands and throwing it into the trash. No matter how good something once was, once it goes cold, it’s trash. We don’t want it anymore. The same went for our marriage. The next morning, Ethan showed up at the house in a sharp, tailored tuxedo. “According to the wedding planner, the groom needs to pick up the bride from her ‘family home.’ Serena is staying at a hotel nearby, but we need to do some photos here first. Chloe, you don’t mind, right?” Lily and I remained silent, merely giving him a cold nod. As he got into the wedding limo, Ethan seemed to sense our unusual calmness. He leaned out of the window, trying to reassure us. “Don’t worry. Serena and I are just putting on a show for her ex. As soon as the ceremony is over, we’ll go straight to City Hall and get our marriage license, okay?” He didn’t wait for our answer before the limo sped away. As the wedding procession disappeared around the corner, I stroked Lily’s head and led her in the opposite direction. The world was vast, and we were finally done with him. Halfway to the wedding venue, Ethan finally noticed the thousands of missed calls from Lily on his phone. He tried to call back, but the line was dead. “Stop the car! Go back to the house! I forgot something!”

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  • The Ring in the Cake Became Their Gift

    I planned to propose to my boyfriend, Julian, on my 28th birthday. I baked a cherry cake from scratch and hid a diamond ring inside. But when Julian came home that night, he had a kid with him. “Sienna has a business trip, so I’m babysitting Noah for her.” Sienna was his coworker, a single mom. Julian had been hovering over her like a savior ever since she got divorced a year ago. “Can’t she hire a nanny?” I complained. Julian immediately frowned, accusing me of lacking empathy. He didn’t even take a single bite of the cake I made. Instead, he gave the whole thing to the kid. I reached out to stop him, wanting to tell him about the ring hidden inside, but his face darkened. “Are you seriously fighting a toddler over a slice of cake, Chloe?” With that, he grabbed the kid and walked out. When Julian finally came back in the dead of night, he was holding a massive bouquet of 999 white roses. “Happy birthday, baby!” “Don’t worry, Sienna is just a coworker. You’re the only one I love.” I forced a smile and chose to forgive him. But later that night, I saw the notifications light up on his phone. Sienna: That ring in the cake… was your girlfriend trying to propose to you? Julian: Just keep it. I don’t really want to get married anytime soon anyway.

    Julian called out from the bathroom, “Chloe, I forgot to grab a towel. Can you bring me one?” I put his phone back down. My heart sank to the bottom of the ocean. The moment he opened the door, I handed him the towel. He wrapped it around his waist, his expression softening as he reached out to ruffle my hair. “What’s wrong? Still mad at me? You’re usually the understanding one.” I flinched away from his touch, my voice cold. “Give me my ring back.” Julian’s smile froze. “What ring?” “Stop acting. I put a ring inside that cake, and you know it.” Julian glanced at his phone on the nightstand, and his face instantly turned angry. “Did you go through my phone?” “I told you, Sienna and I are just coworkers!” I didn’t have the energy to argue. I held the phone up to his face. “Call her right now. Tell her to give me my ring back.” Julian looked embarrassed. “I already gave it to her. I’ll buy you another one, okay? I promise I’ll get you a much more expensive one.” “Julian, that’s not the point,” I interrupted. Julian suddenly slammed his phone onto the floor. His voice boomed through the room. “Chloe! What is your problem tonight?!” “It’s just a stupid ring! How was I supposed to know it was inside the cake?” “I already gave it to her! How do you expect me to ask for it back?” I stared at him, numb. Julian pulled a thick stack of cash out of his wallet and threw it right at my face. The bills fluttered down around me, and among them were three tickets to Disneyland. “Is this enough?” Then he whipped out his black card and threw it at me. “Is this enough?!” My ears rang from his shouting. In our six years together, this was the first time Julian had ever raised his voice at me. He looked so vicious, like he wanted to tear me apart. My chest tightened, a suffocating pain paralyzing me. Trembling, I opened the photo gallery on my phone, frantically searching for the video from five years ago—the one where he promised he would marry me today. He was the one who forgot. “Fine. Let’s both take the night to cool off.” Julian pushed my phone away. “Chloe, you need to seriously reflect on your jealousy.” The door slammed shut. My stomach knotted, and I began to dry heave uncontrollably. I clutched my shirt tightly over my chest. It felt like the only way to breathe. I cried until I had no tears left. When I finally dragged myself off the floor, I began to pack my few belongings. Six years ago, I came here with nothing but love. Six years later, I was leaving completely alone. My phone buzzed. Sienna had posted on Instagram. Her caption read: [Thank you for always being by my side through the hardest times. ❤️] The photo showed a high-end restaurant. Julian was holding Noah, and Sienna was leaning closely against his shoulder. Today was my birthday, but he was out having a fancy dinner with Sienna and her son. Julian’s assistant had commented on the post: “Damn, that was fast. Sienna’s charm is no joke.” “Julian keeps telling everyone at the office that he’s a non-marriage guy, but he still fell for Sienna in the end.” I turned off the screen, staring at my pale reflection in the dark glass. My hands shook so hard I could barely zip my suitcase. At the very bottom of my bag lay the train ticket to Minneapolis from six years ago. But these six years had just been brutally ended by Julian’s own hands.

    It was honestly pathetic. After living in Minneapolis for so many years, I had no friends and no job. Even the money I used to buy that ring was saved up from the allowance he gave me. My entire world had revolved around him. I was so incredibly stupid. Stupid enough to hand him my heart on a silver platter, letting him shred it to pieces. “One-way ticket to Miami, please,” I told the ticket agent. The elderly woman at the counter looked up. “Oh? Aren’t you the girl from six years ago?” I looked up, a faint bit of life returning to my numb face. “You remember me?” The lady smiled warmly. “How could I forget you two?” “Back then, your boyfriend waited outside this station for a whole day and night. The snow was piling up on his shoulders, and he looked like an ice sculpture, but he refused to leave. He was so terrified of missing you.” “We told him to come inside the lobby to have some warm tea, but the poor boy just smiled awkwardly. He said he was starting a new business and spent every penny buying you a welcome gift. He couldn’t even afford a bus ride. He walked five hours in the freezing snow just to get to this station.” I listened, dazed. A dull, aching pain squeezed my heart. From a run-down basement to a tiny rental, and finally to our current luxury penthouse. The boy had swallowed all the bitter cold alone. With his frostbitten, calloused hands, he had built our lives brick by brick, trying to give me a home. He used to say, “We don’t have to be afraid of winter anymore.” “Chloe, honestly, I was so scared you’d come find me and suffer, but I was even more terrified that you wouldn’t come.” “I didn’t want you to struggle with me.” “But I was so scared you’d stop loving me.” He had cried that day, holding me so tight it felt like he wanted to merge our bodies into one. My tears flowed silently now. We were supposed to be happy. How did we end up so broken? “Here’s your ticket, sweetheart.” My fingers trembled as I took it. It didn’t feel like a ticket. It felt like a blade severing my past. “Don’t cry.” The ticket agent glanced at the expensive Cartier bracelet on my wrist and sighed with relief. “When you build a man up from nothing, don’t look at his sweet words. Look at his wallet, and see if he’s still willing to spend on you.” I nodded slowly, clutching the crumpled ticket. Before I could board, Julian ran into the station. He sprinted toward me just like he did six years ago, throwing his arms around me and crushing me into his chest. I could hear his ragged breathing, his racing heartbeat, and his cracking voice. “Don’t go…” “Chloe, I was just angry. I didn’t want you to leave…” Julian snatched my ticket, tore it to shreds, and carried me out to his car, putting me into the passenger seat. “You hate that I hang out with Sienna, right?” “I’ve transferred her to another department. I’ll keep my distance from now on.” I remained silent. I just stared blankly at the car air freshener hanging from the mirror—it was a gift from Sienna. The car smelled faintly of citrus—Sienna’s perfume. The glove compartment, which used to hold my lip balms, was now stuffed with Noah’s favorite snacks and a couple of lipsticks that didn’t belong to me. I blinked, my eyes burning with dryness. Julian didn’t notice my silence. He was already talking about taking me to Hawaii for the upcoming holidays. I let out a soft sigh. I didn’t even have the energy to nod.

    Julian never brought up Sienna again. Their chat logs on Snapchat were strictly about work. Everything seemed clean. “Chloe, I’m running for vice president at the firm. I’m going to be extremely busy lately,” his voice came through the phone, sounding distant. “I transferred some money to your account. Go shopping, buy yourself something nice. Don’t just stay home waiting for me.” Lately, by the time he came home, I was already asleep. When he left in the morning, I was still dreaming. There was always warm breakfast waiting for me in the microwave, and my dirty laundry was always washed and dried. Julian’s presence was everywhere in the apartment. I could see it. But I couldn’t feel it anymore. The distance between us was growing, our relationship rusting away. Even if we tried to polish the rust, the weight of our love was gone. We were floating in the air, ready to be blown away by the slightest breeze. I had planned to take my money and leave, but then, the ultimate complication happened. I got pregnant. At first, I was just exhausted, losing my appetite, and throwing up constantly. I mentioned feeling sick to Julian, and the next day, he brought home a huge bag of pills and told me to take them. Without a single word of comfort, he rushed back to the office. I took them, but the nausea only got worse. Finally, I went to the hospital, only to find out I was pregnant. “We need to run more tests to see if we can keep the baby,” the doctor said, frowning. “You’ve taken a heavy dose of strong antibiotics. There’s a high risk of birth defects.” I was wheeled out of the room by two nurses. Outside the ultrasound room, I spent the most agonizing six hours of my life. I pinched the back of my hands until they were bruised. My eyes stared blankly as tears of guilt ran down my cheeks. I blamed myself for not realizing sooner. Why didn’t I check the medication? Why did I blindly swallow whatever Julian handed to me? “The baby looks fine for now. Come back next month for a checkup.” A wave of relief washed over me. My mood brightened, and I even ordered a whole pizza for dinner. Julian didn’t get home until midnight. He reeked of alcohol, his cheek was bleeding, and one of his eyes was badly bruised. “Did you get into a fight?” He mumbled something incoherent and went straight into the bathroom. His work phone was lying on the bed, and it lit up with a Snapchat notification. Sienna: Julian, thank you so much for standing up for me today. Otherwise, my ex-husband would have kept harassing me. Sienna: I feel so helpless. If you hadn’t been here for us, Noah and I wouldn’t have survived. Noah loves you so much, he calls you Daddy Julian every day. Julian… please give us a real family. The words pierced my chest. It hurt so bad, like my lungs were collapsing. Daddy… Then who was my baby going to call Daddy? Give them a family… Then what about my family? The warm, safe home I had dreamed of since I was a child was gone. Shattered by Julian. I bit my tongue hard, letting the pain snap me back to reality as I scrolled through his Snapchat. They had never stopped talking. They just moved their conversations from his main account to a private burner account. His private feed was filled with photos of him, Sienna, and Noah, receiving warm blessings from his close friends and relatives. I had been abandoned again. I couldn’t play the polite girlfriend anymore. With shaking fingers, I typed a message to Sienna: Do you love being a homewrecker that much? You can have this trash. I’m throwing him out. “Chloe! What the hell are you doing with my phone?!”

    Julian’s gentleness always vanished the second his boundaries were crossed. He grabbed my arm and yanked me forward. I stumbled and fell against the bed frame. Ignoring the sharp pain in my lower abdomen, I scrambled up and slapped him across the face. Julian’s bruised face swelled even more. He glared at the phone in my hand. “Give it to me.” I didn’t budge. He lunged forward to grab it, grabbing my wrist and forcing my fingers open one by one. My joints popped painfully, and through my scream of pain, he snatched the phone back. “The message already sent, Julian. It’s too late to delete it,” I laughed hysterically. I sounded like a madwoman. “I called her exactly what she is. A homewrecker. Does your heart bleed for her?” “Sienna is just—” SLAP! The force of his hand sent me crashing onto the bed. My words were swallowed back into my throat, turning into a sickening pain that twisted inside my stomach. My eyes throbbed. For a second, I thought he had ruptured my eye. Otherwise, why was there so much warmth flowing down my cheek? Was it blood, or just tears? “Do you have any idea how much trauma Sienna has been through?!” Julian roared. “Chloe, you’re going to drive her over the edge!” “Would you only be happy if she died?!” My voice was completely hoarse. “Yes.” “Go die. Both of you.” Julian ran to the kitchen, grabbed a knife, shoved it into my hand, and pressed the blade against his own neck. It was a dramatic, toxic standoff. “Come on! Kill me!” “Kill me if you have the guts!” “Chloe, I never said I wouldn’t marry you! I’m just trying to handle Sienna’s situation first. I don’t have the energy to deal with your drama right now!” “You waited six years, but you can’t even give me a little time? Are you really that starved for love?!” Yes, I was. I was pregnant, and I didn’t want my child to grow up in a broken home like I did. He accused me of hurting Sienna. But he was the one ripping my old wounds open, sticking his fingers in, and twisting them. His phone rang. It was Noah, crying. “Daddy… Mommy ran out of the house crying. I’m so scared something happened to her… Please come find her…” Julian hauled me up from the bed by my collar. “Get up. You’re coming with me to see exactly what you’ve done to her!” “Chloe, your spoiled attitude needs to stop!” The car sped down the highway. Soon, Sienna’s figure appeared on the side of the road. Julian dragged me out of the car, forcing me to apologize to her. He shoved my shoulders down, forcing me onto my knees in the freezing snow. My knees burned against the icy ground through my thin leggings. “Chloe, I can tolerate your little tantrums, but not this time.” “Sienna has severe depression from her divorce. She can’t handle this kind of trigger.” The snow fell heavier, and as my body shivered violently, Julian pressed down harder on my shoulders. People walked past us. I envied them so much. They were whole. The snow falling on them was just snow, not salt on open wounds. “Julian… I’m pregnant…” A desperate, empty laugh escaped my lips. A warm gush of liquid began to spread beneath me, slowly staining the white snow crimson. “I can’t handle this kind of trigger either…”

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  • My Alpha Gave His Hottest Nights to Widow

    I was born with a feral desire. As the only daughter of the Silvervein Pack’s Alpha, my instincts demanded a high-intensity, deeply matched mate. Ordinary wolves couldn’t handle my passion. I needed someone who could match my hunger. When it came to choosing a mate, I chose Silas. He was the younger brother of the deceased Alpha of the Shadowspine Pack, and the next in line to lead. He was just as wild as me, and in bed, we were a perfect match. I had expected our mating to be full of endless, breathless nights. But three months into our marriage, we had barely finished a single night together. Every single time we got close, we were interrupted. And the person interrupting us was always Sienna. She was the widow of Silas’s late brother, Mason. For the twentieth time, right when things were heating up in the middle of the night, Silas’s phone rang. It was Sienna. “Silas, the power went out at the villa. It’s pitch black, and I’m scared to be alone.” I wrapped my legs tight around Silas’s waist, trying to suppress the anger that had been building up for months. “Silas, don’t you dare leave tonight.” But he was already pulling away, grabbing his clothes and dressing quickly. He looked at me like I was being unreasonable. “My brother just passed away. Sienna is still drowning in grief. I have to be there for her. I need to help her through this.” I watched him walk out. He didn’t even look back. This time, I didn’t try to stop him. Three days later, I slammed the divorce papers right in front of him. “We are done. If you can’t satisfy me, don’t waste my time. I’ll find an Alpha who can.”

    Silas and I had been in a cold war for two full months before I finally agreed to give him another chance. Two months of built-up tension and hunger erupted like wildfire the moment we touched. We were tangled in the sheets, lost in each other. But just as we reached the point of no return, his personal phone started buzzing relentlessly. I tried to ignore it. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, my voice thick with heat. “Silas… forget the phone.” But no amount of passion could drown out that ringtone. The heat in Silas’s eyes vanished. He pushed me off him, sat up, and answered the call. My body was still burning, and I glared at him with pure resentment. Sienna’s sweet, whiny voice drifted from the speaker. “Silas, the power went out at the cabin… I’m so scared of the dark…” Without a second thought, Silas started putting on his pants. Unsatisfied and furious, I grabbed him from behind, holding him tight. “Silas, it’s just a phone call. Can’t it wait? Do you really have to leave right now?” He peeled my hands off him, one finger at a time. Then, he calmly buttoned his shirt, covering the marks we had just left on each other. His voice was cold and distant. “Willa, you know the situation. Mason is barely in his grave. I can’t just abandon his widow.” I snapped. “Silas! The Shadowspine Pack has dozens of guards and maids! Why can’t she call any of them? She calls you on the nights she knows I’m exhausted, and she finds an excuse every single night. Don’t you see how suspicious that is? Why is it always late at night? Why is it always right when we are together?” “Shut up!” Silas’s face darkened instantly. His eyes were cold and foreign. “Stop making up these ridiculous stories.” I stared at his tense face. For the first time, this man I had loved for seven years felt like a complete stranger. Seeing the anger in my eyes, his expression softened slightly. He tried to soothe me. “Don’t worry, this is the last time. My mother is already on her way to stay with her. I’ll just go check on them and come straight back.” Silas walked out, leaving me alone in the silent room. As I cooled down, things started to feel wrong. Silas had a high sex drive, just like me. During our first month of marriage, we were interrupted constantly. Then we had a cold war for two months with zero touch. By all logic, tonight should have been wild and uncontrollable. Yet, the moment he got that call, he checked out instantly. He left without a single regret. A horrible realization gripped my chest: His desires were already being satisfied elsewhere. I jumped out of bed, intending to follow him, but a text from Silas popped up on my phone. “The stairs had a wiring issue. Sienna tripped in the dark and sprained her ankle. My mother and I are taking her to the medical clinic. I won’t be home tonight.” I drove straight to the medical clinic. The hallway outside the room was empty. Elaine was nowhere to be seen. Through the small window of the dimly lit room, I saw Sienna. Her face was buried in Silas’s neck, crying softly, her body pressed tight against his. Silas was leaning down, his lips almost brushing her ear, whispering something to her. This was the twentieth time. Every time we got intimate, she interrupted. Every time I followed him, I saw this exact kind of boundary-crossing behavior. There was a reason Silas protected Sienna so blindly. Six months ago, during a pack gathering near the lake, Silas had fallen into the deep water. Mason had jumped in to save him and drowned. At that time, Sienna was heavily pregnant. Only days after the burial, she gave birth to a baby boy. She became the respected widow of the pack, and everyone walked on eggshells around her. At first, I understood Silas’s guilt. I thought helping his brother’s widow and child was the right thing to do. I never complained. Until our wedding night. That was when I realized Sienna’s intentions were far from innocent.

    We had just gotten into bed, the heat rising in the bathroom, when she knocked frantically on our door wearing a sheer, lace nightgown. “Silas, the baby has a high fever! He won’t stop crying, and I don’t know what to do!” Without saying a word, Silas got dressed and rushed her and the baby to the clinic. Though I was upset, I tried to be understanding. She was a grieving single mother. I swallowed my frustration and followed them. But when I reached the hospital room, the scene made my chest tight. Sienna was practically hanging off Silas, weeping dramatically. “Silas, if anything happens to the baby, I won’t be able to face Mason in the afterlife.” Silas comforted her gently, over and over. “Don’t worry, I’m here.” They were too close. Their body language was intimate, crossing every boundary of what was acceptable between a brother-in-law and a widow. My female instinct told me she wanted him. After that night, Sienna invaded our lives completely. During the day, when Silas was busy with pack business, she stayed in her room and never showed her face to me. But the moment Silas came home, she would change into revealing clothes, lingering in the hallways and courtyard, trying to catch his eye. On many mornings, right when Silas and I were waking up and getting intimate, she would barge into our bedroom under the pretense of “cleaning,” just standing there staring at us. Even worse, she never covered herself when breastfeeding the baby if Silas was in the room. It sickened me. I dropped hints to her to keep some boundaries, but she either pretended not to understand or immediately started crying, making me look like the bully. I got tired of it. I told Silas about my discomfort multiple times, but he always dismissed it, saying I was just being paranoid and jealous. One night, Silas was out late for a pack meeting and didn’t return. I got up at midnight to get some water and passed her bedroom. I heard her clear, breathless voice from inside, whispering his name over and over. “Silas… oh, Silas…” It was filled with pure lust. I stood there, feeling physically sick. Once I was sure of her dirty thoughts, I demanded we move out or get a divorce. But Silas accused me of making trouble out of nothing. “We have a perfect house. What are you throwing a fit for now?” I didn’t have solid evidence, so I couldn’t voice my wild suspicions. I had to swallow my anger. But my silence only made Sienna bolder. She figured out my cycle and stayed quiet during the days she knew Silas and I wouldn’t be intimate. But every other night, she found a reason to call him. “Silas, the bathroom pipe burst.” “Silas, the heater is broken. It’s freezing.” “Silas, my chest feels tight, I feel so sick…” Every single night. Finally, I snapped and confronted her face-to-face. “Sienna, Silas is my mate. He is the next Alpha of the Shadowspine Pack. He is not your personal plumber or your doctor. If something breaks or you feel sick, call the pack maintenance or the pack doctor.” Sienna bit her lip, her eyes pooling with tears, looking incredibly victimized. Silas immediately yelled at me. “What is wrong with you? I told you, she just lost her husband. What is wrong with me helping her? Even if you’re jealous, have some decency!” “Fine. I won’t be jealous anymore. You two can live together!” Furious, I packed my bags and drove back to the Silvervein Pack. That was our second major fight in our seven years together. The next day, Silas showed up at my pack house with flowers. He knelt before my parents and the Silvervein elders, swearing he would keep his distance from Sienna. But I refused to forgive him. He came back day after day, sucking up to my family. Even his mother, Elaine, stepped in. She promised she would move in with Sienna, and Silas and I could move into a private villa far away from them. Looking at the man I had loved for seven years, seeing the desperation in his eyes, my heart softened. I remembered our college days. He had jumped in front of a drunk guy to protect me. He had carried me through a thunderstorm to the hospital when I had a severe allergic reaction. Those memories were still so vivid. “This is your last chance,” I told him, taking the flowers. “One more boundary crossed, and we are completely over.”

    Although I went back with him, the wall between us remained. I was distant and rarely let him touch me. During that time, Sienna did behave. She kept her distance during family dinners and acted politely. After two months of cold shoulder, our relationship finally started to thaw, and we began to get intimate again. But just as I thought life was getting back to normal, she started her tricks again. It was laughable. The Shadowspine Pack had endless money, maids, drivers, and technicians. Why did a minor issue always require the Alpha to run over in the middle of the night? I had stayed silent the first nineteen times. But this twentieth time, I was done. “Silas.” My voice echoed in the quiet hospital hallway. He looked up, startled. He instantly pushed Sienna away, trying to create distance between them. The fragile smile on Sienna’s face vanished, replaced by a flash of annoyance. “Willa? What are you doing here…” “I came to watch and learn,” I said, letting out a cold laugh. “To watch my mate take such good care of another man’s wife.” Sienna’s face turned pale. She gripped the bedsheets, her voice trembling. “Willa, don’t get the wrong idea. I just fell…” “Fell?” I walked slowly to her bedside, staring down at her. “Tripping down the stairs at 1:00 AM? Right when Silas and I were in bed? What a convenient accident.” Sienna lowered her head, her eyes red, looking like she was about to cry. “Enough! Stop it!” Silas stood up, grabbing my wrist tightly, and dragged me out of the room. His voice was thick with anger. “Are you crazy? My brother has only been dead for six months. Do you have to be this cruel?” “Oh? So you remember she is your brother’s wife? Then why don’t you know how to keep your hands off her?” “There is nothing going on between us! I am just doing my duty to my pack and my brother. I swear to you.” Silas was furious. He pulled me toward the elevator. “Let go of me! You’re hurting me!” I struggled, scratching the back of his hand with my nails. The elevator went straight to the underground garage. Inside the quiet car, only our heavy breathing could be heard. The air was suffocating. He shoved me into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. After a few seconds of silence, his tone suddenly softened. “Willa, listen to me. Sienna really hurt her ankle. My mother is too old to carry her, so I had to help. That’s all.” “Does helping her require holding her in your arms? Does it require whispering in her ear?” I rubbed my red wrist, looking at him with pure disgust. “Silas, how long are you going to lie to yourself?” “Enough!” He slammed his fist onto the steering wheel, making the horn blare loudly. “Can you stop having such a dirty mind? She is my sister-in-law! My brother died saving my life! What is wrong with me taking care of his widow?” I stared at his red eyes. It was so pathetic. Before I could speak, his phone buzzed. The name “Sienna” flashed on the screen, hurting my eyes. Silas froze. He hesitated for a second, then picked up. After a brief conversation, he looked at me with a complicated expression. “They need to pay the medical fees, and my mother didn’t bring enough cash. I’ll be back in ten minutes.” “So you’re leaving me here alone again?” I leaned back, a mocking smile on my face. “Just ten minutes.” He reached out to touch my face, but I flinched away. “Wait for me in the car. I’ll be right back.” “Get lost,” I said, closing my eyes. The car door opened and closed. His hurried footsteps faded away. The cold wind from the garage crept into the car, making me shiver. I opened my eyes and noticed a spare phone lying under the passenger seat. It was the phone Silas used for private matters. Prompted by some dark instinct, I reached down and picked it up. The screen lit up. The lock screen was a blurry silhouette of a couple holding each other tightly. I entered his usual password. It unlocked. And what I saw on the screen made my blood run cold.

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  • He Missed Our Engagement Party Twice

    Ethan missed our engagement party. He missed it to help my best friend, Chloe, rescue a stray dog that had been hit by a car. He told me, “The dog was dying, Hazel. I couldn’t just stand there and do nothing.” I believed him. But after that, he started running over to her apartment all the time. His excuse? “The dog only recognizes me. It won’t eat unless I’m there. I can’t just let it starve.” Chloe would roll her eyes in annoyance. “Who asked you to come? I wish it would forget you already.” Every time they met, they bickered. Yet, through all that bickering, he somehow got a spare key to her apartment. He knew exactly how long her water heater had been broken. He knew her menstrual cycle and how she couldn’t sleep from the cramps. He even skipped our second attempt at an engagement party. He sent a text: “The dog is having surgery today. She can’t handle it alone.” At the venue, all our friends and family looked at me with pity as I stood there alone in my gorgeous white dress. I couldn’t take it anymore. I drove straight to Chloe’s apartment. When I pushed the door open, the living room was spotless. It was too clean. There was no dog food, no dog bed, not a single trace of a pet ever living there. Instead, there was a messy pile of clothes—belonging to a man and a woman—thrown over the sofa. In the bathroom, a pair of matching couple’s toothbrushes sat in a cup. And on the fridge, a sticky note was stuck to the door. It was Ethan’s handwriting: Hey dummy, dinner is ready. Remember to eat.

    I stared at that sticky note on the fridge for a long time. He cooked for her. Ethan used to tell me that he would only ever cook for his girlfriend. Now, he was cooking for my best friend. Suddenly, the bedroom door opened. Chloe walked out, wearing an oversized grey men’s T-shirt. I recognized it instantly. It was a limited-edition shirt I had waited in line for five hours to buy for Ethan’s birthday last year. Then, it went missing. I had searched everywhere for it. Ethan had shrugged it off, saying, “It’s just a stupid shirt, Hazel. I probably lost it at the gym.” When Chloe saw me, her face drained of color. But quickly, she forced a smile and reached out to grab my hand, just like she always did. “Hazel! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming over?” “I just took a shower. The place is a total mess.” I pulled my hand back. “Where is the dog?” She froze for a microsecond. “At the clinic,” she said smoothly. “I told you, it’s having surgery today.” I looked around the pristine living room. No pet bowls. No toys. No stray hairs. Just the tangled pile of male and female clothes on the sofa. And a pair of men’s boxers hanging on the drying rack on the balcony. Following my gaze, Chloe scrambled for an explanation. “Oh, Ethan got soaked when he helped me take the dog to the vet last time. I just washed his clothes for him.” Her voice softened, turning sweet and pleading. “Hazel, I’m your best friend. You don’t honestly doubt me, do you?” Before I could answer, Ethan’s voice echoed from outside the door. “Chloe, did you order takeout sashimi again?” The sound of a key turning in the lock followed. Before he even stepped inside, his tone was full of scolding frustration. “Does your stomach not hurt anymore? Are you trying to kill yourself?” Chloe’s expression tightened. She shot me a panicked look. The next second, Ethan walked in holding a bag of groceries. Steak, broccoli, butternut squash, and a carton of milk. Everything Chloe loved. Chloe quickly rolled her eyes, forcing her voice back into that familiar, annoyed bickering tone. “Who asked you to care? Gosh, you are so annoying.” Ethan dropped the groceries on the floor and let out a dry laugh. “If I didn’t care, who would? You called me three times last night crying because your stomach hurt so bad.” I stood by the fridge, feeling like a complete ghost in the room. They had always been like this. Fighting the moment they saw each other. Chloe complained about his bad temper, and Ethan complained about how high-maintenance she was. Back then, I used to laugh and try to make peace between them. I thought it was nice that they became friends because of me and that stray dog. I just hoped they would stop bickering so much. Finally, Ethan noticed me. The coldness on his face flickered. He quickly walked over. “Hazel? Why are you wearing so little outside? It’s freezing.” He took off his coat, intending to drape it over my shoulders. But before the coat could touch me, Chloe’s eyes welled up with tears. Ethan’s hands froze in mid-air. His tone suddenly turned defensive. “I told you I’d come over to your place as soon as the dog’s surgery was done,” he said. “Why did you come all the way here?” I looked at his hovering coat and let out a quiet, empty laugh. “Where is the dog, Ethan?” Ethan frowned. “I literally just told you.” I unlocked my phone and held it up to his face. The message from the building management was crystal clear. “Unit 1502 has no registered pets under Ms. Chloe’s name. In fact, Ms. Chloe is severely allergic to dog dander. She filed a complaint last month about a stray dog in the hallway.” The apartment fell dead silent. I looked at both of them. “Ethan, the dog that supposedly only eats when you’re around… where is it?” Chloe’s tears finally spilled over. “Hazel, I didn’t mean to lie to you. I’ve just been going through a really hard time lately…” Ethan said nothing. His silence was louder and more humiliating than any excuse. Just then, my phone buzzed. It was my mom. “Hazel, did you find Ethan? Your dad says all the guests have left.” My throat tightened. They had waited for three hours. Waiting for me to bring my fiancé back to our own party. I looked at Ethan and spoke into the phone, “Mom, don’t wait up.” “He’s not coming. Not today, not ever.” Ethan snapped his head up. “Hazel, what the hell is that supposed to mean?” Chloe sobbed, reaching out to grab my arm. “Hazel, I’m so sorry! Please don’t fight with him because of me!” I yanked myself away from her touch, stepping back. In my haste, the back of my hand scraped hard against the sharp corner of the shoe cabinet. Blood immediately bubbled up. Ethan instinctively reached out to help me, but Chloe started crying even louder, gasping for air. His hand stopped. He looked back at her. In that single second of hesitation, I saw everything with absolute clarity. I pulled my hand back. “Ethan, we’re done. Let’s break up.”

    Ethan’s face darkened completely. “Hazel, don’t use a breakup to threaten me.” I didn’t look back. As the elevator doors began to close, I saw him take a step forward to chase after me. But behind him, Chloe whimpered, “Ethan…” And he stopped. When I got home, my dad was still wearing the sharp suit he had bought specifically for my engagement party. My mom was still in her formal dress. Mom looked pale, her eyes filled with worry as she watched Dad. Dad had just undergone heart stent surgery a few weeks ago. He hadn’t slept a wink the night before, anxious and excited for my big day. Seeing me walk in alone, they both stood up immediately. “Where’s Ethan?” I hid my bleeding hand behind my back. “Something came up at work.” Mom froze. Dad forced a small, weak smile. “It’s okay. Young people are busy these days.” Watching them make excuses for Ethan made a lump form in my throat. I didn’t dare tell them we broke up. I was terrified the shock would trigger my dad’s heart condition. I just whispered, “Dad, Mom, I want to go back to our hometown for a while. Just to clear my head.” Mom immediately held my arm. “Did you two get into a fight?” “No.” I lowered my head and started packing up the untouched engagement cake from the table. “I just miss home.” An hour later, the doorbell rang. I was in the middle of throwing Ethan’s things into a cardboard box. I opened the door. Chloe was standing there, cradling a long-haired dog in her arms. Her neck was covered in angry red hives, and her eyes were severely swollen. “Hazel, look, I brought the dog to show you.” “Please don’t be mad at me anymore, okay?” The dog was squirming wildly in her arms, its claws scratching her wrists and leaving bright red marks. Ethan rushed out of the elevator behind her, his face pale with fury. He snatched the dog from her arms. “Chloe, are you insane?!” “You know you’re severely allergic to dogs! Why would you hold it?!” Chloe’s tears flowed freely. “I just… I just wanted Hazel to believe me.” Ethan snapped his head toward me, his eyes blazing with accusation. “Are you happy now?” My mom gasped, terrified. “What is going on here?” Before I could speak, Chloe suddenly clutched her chest, her knees buckling as she slid toward the floor. Ethan caught her instantly. “Chloe!” He turned and screamed at me, “Get the car keys! We need to go to the hospital!” My parents were completely panicking. I didn’t want them to see any more of this mess, so I grabbed my keys and followed them downstairs. The entire drive to the ER, Ethan held Chloe tightly in his arms. She leaned against his shoulder, whispering weakly, “Hazel, please don’t hate me…” Ethan kept scolding her in a low, trembling voice. “Why do you have to be so stubborn?” “If something happens to you, how am I supposed to face Hazel?” On the surface, he was blaming her. But every single word dripped with deep, agonizing worry. At the hospital, Chloe was rushed into the emergency room. I stood outside in the hallway. The scratch on my hand had started bleeding again. Ethan finally noticed it. He frowned and grabbed my hand. “Why is this still bleeding?” I tried to pull away. But he held on tight, pressing a sterile gauze pad against the cut, his tone finally softening. “Hazel, stop fighting me. I know I messed up.” He sighed, and then, he dropped a set of keys into my palm. I stared at them, confused. He leaned down and kissed my forehead gently. “I’ve sorted everything out.” “To make sure you don’t keep worrying about Chloe and me crossing boundaries, I rented the apartment directly across from yours for her.” “That way, you can keep an eye on her whenever you want.” I froze, my entire body turning cold. Yet, Ethan smiled, genuinely believing this was a generous peace offering. “She’s in no state to live alone right now. It’s not safe.” “Since you guys are best friends, you can look after her too.” “And since your parents are in town, and they love to cook, they can just make an extra portion for her when her stomach acts up.” I stared up at him, wondering if I was experiencing some sick hallucination. Last winter, when my parents’ health was declining, I wanted to bring them to the city to live near me. I found a cozy little apartment right across the hall from ours. I was going to pay the rent myself. I just wanted them close so I could take care of them. But Ethan had frowned and shut down the idea immediately. “Hazel, we just started living together.” “Having parents right across the hall destroys all boundaries. I don’t want to feel like I’m being watched by elders every single day.” So, I deleted the agent’s number. My parents stayed in our hometown. But now, he had rented that exact apartment for Chloe, and he expected my parents to cook for her. I threw the keys hard against his chest. “Ethan, do you honestly think my entire family exists just to be walked all over by you?” His face instantly hardened. “You’re throwing a tantrum again.” “Have you forgotten everything Chloe has done for you?” “Who drank with you at those miserable corporate dinners? Who brought you medicine when you were sick?” “She lied to you once, with me, and now you’re trying to use some moral high ground to ruin her life?” I stared into his eyes. “What about you, Ethan? Whose boyfriend are you actually supposed to be?” The question caught him off guard. But he quickly suppressed his irritation, his voice cold. “I am your boyfriend, Hazel. But the way you’re treating Chloe is hurtful. When she wakes up, you need to go in there and apologize to her.” I let out a bitter laugh. “I need to apologize to her?” “Yes.” He glared at me, his voice dropping an octave. “She is in the hospital because of her allergies.” “Don’t make me think you’re completely heartless.” I turned on my heel and walked away. Ethan grabbed my wrist in a vice grip. “Hazel, if you walk away today,” he threatened, “you’ll regret it.”

    I barely slept that night. My dreams were filled with tiny, forgotten fragments of the past. I remembered a company dinner at a Japanese restaurant. Chloe sat next to me. The moment she reached for the salmon sashimi, Ethan frowned. “Don’t eat raw food.” Chloe rolled her eyes. “Mind your own business.” But he ignored her, putting a piece of cooked beef from the hot pot onto her plate anyway. “Don’t come crying to me in the middle of the night when your stomach hurts.” At the time, I had laughed, saying, “You two fight literally every time you meet.” I also remembered a rainy afternoon. Neither Chloe nor I had an umbrella. Ethan had only brought one. He shoved the umbrella into her hands, his voice harsh. “Take it. If you catch a cold, you’ll complain for weeks.” Chloe snapped back, “Who wants your stupid umbrella?” I had stood under the awning, watching them bicker all the way to the parking lot. In the end, I had run out into the pouring rain to hail a cab by myself. Back then, I made excuses for them. One was my boyfriend. The other was my best friend. But now, looking back, the clues were everywhere. By the time I woke up, the sun was barely rising. My phone buzzed. It was a Snapchat notification. Chloe had posted on her story. In the photo, her hand had an IV line in it. Ethan’s coat was draped gently over her knees. Her caption read: Someone scolded me all night. Underneath, our mutual friends were commenting and teasing: “Scolded you, but still gave you his coat?” “Ethan’s attitude is trash, but he clearly cares about you.” Chloe had replied with a blushing emoji: “Ugh, he’s so annoying. I told him to go comfort Hazel, but he insisted on staying here.” I stared at the screen for a long time. When it was time for work, I got dressed and went to the office. The moment I entered the breakroom, the whispering stopped. A colleague brushed past me with her coffee mug, murmuring to someone else under her breath: “Her best friend is literally in the hospital with an allergic reaction, and she’s still making a scene.” “Yeah, her boyfriend was just trying to help. This petty jealousy is so toxic.” My grip tightened around my mug. I turned around, walked straight to the HR office, and handed in my transfer request. “I want to transfer back to the hometown branch.”

    The HR manager looked at my request, an awkward expression on her face. “Hazel… I don’t think we can process this right now.” “Why not?” She closed the file. “Ethan told us that you’ve been emotionally unstable lately. He gave instructions to hold off on any of your transfer requests.” I let out a cold laugh. “What else did he say?” She avoided my gaze. “He said you should take a few days off to calm down at home.” “And that you can return to work once you’ve sorted out your personal issues.” As I walked out of the office, I heard more gossip floating from the breakroom. “Ethan is honestly so professional. He doesn’t even play favorites with his own girlfriend.” “Right? He explained that Chloe has been struggling with depression and anxiety, which is why he was helping her. He didn’t want everyone blaming her.” “He said Hazel is just overly sensitive and blew the whole dog thing out of proportion.” “No wonder Chloe feels so guilty.” Standing outside the door, I finally understood. All the gossip, the side-eyes, the whispers—Ethan had orchestrated it all. Just to protect Chloe’s feelings and make her feel better. I turned to leave, but as I passed the stairwell, I heard Chloe’s voice from inside. “Ethan, why would you say those things about her?” “You know Hazel did nothing wrong.” Ethan’s voice was low and soothing. “If I didn’t say that, you’d just hide away and cry yourself to sleep again, wouldn’t you?” Chloe choked up. “But… she’s your girlfriend.” “She’ll get over it,” Ethan said, his voice brimming with confidence. “Hazel has a soft heart. Especially when it comes to you.” Chloe went silent for a long time. “There was never a dog,” she whispered. “Why did you keep up the lie for me?” I leaned against the wall, my fingers turning icy cold. Ethan didn’t answer right away. After a few excruciating seconds, he murmured, “Because I wanted an excuse to see you, too.” The air in the stairwell went dead silent. I could hear the frantic pounding of my own heart. Chloe’s voice trembled. “Then… on her birthday… her parents waited for three hours. Did you know that?” “Yes,” Ethan said. “She’ll make an excuse for me. She always does.” The transfer request paper slipped from my fingers, fluttering silently to the floor. Suddenly, the voices in the stairwell cut off. When I looked up through the crack of the door, I saw Chloe clutching Ethan’s collar, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him. Ethan froze for a split second. But in the next moment, his hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her in deeper. I stood at the entrance of the stairwell, watching my fiancé and my best friend make out. All that bickering. All that feigned annoyance. It was nothing but a game. A cheap curtain to hide behind. Ethan saw me first. His face turned instantly pale. “Hazel!” I bent down, picked up my paper, and turned to walk away. He bolted out of the stairwell and grabbed my arm. “Hazel, let me explain.” I looked at him. “Explain how you two have been playing me for a fool this entire time?” Chloe stood behind him, her face white as a sheet. “Hazel, I’m so sorry…” I ignored her. Ethan lowered his voice, his grip tightening on my arm. “That was just a heat-of-the-moment thing. I swear, nothing else has ever happened between us before this.” “Why are you looking at me like that?” I sneered and yanked my arm out of his grip. That afternoon, HR returned my transfer request. Stamped: DENIED. Attached was a sticky note in Ethan’s handwriting: You can have your job back when you apologize to Chloe. I stared at those words for a long time. Then, I opened my laptop and started a new document. The subject line: Resignation Letter. After hitting send, I took off my ID badge and placed it on my desk. A colleague gasped nearby. “Hazel, are you seriously quitting?” I didn’t look back. If they wouldn’t let me transfer, I would just resign. Ethan didn’t want to let me leave with my dignity. Fine. I would carve out my own path. A path that would never cross with his again.

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