Category: English

After my miscarriage, I changed all the habits that Pathseekers Pack Alpha Ronan found annoying. I stopped asking about his whereabouts. When he didn’t come home all night, I slept peacefully. Even when I was injured in a Rogue attack and the doctor asked me to notify family, I simply answered calmly: “I don’t have any family.” The nurse recognized me: “You’re Luna Nyla, aren’t you? Alpha Ronan is inspecting the office building next door. Should I go notify him?” I shook my head gently. “No need.” Yet half an hour later, Ronan came anyway. His posture was rigid, his voice cold: “Why didn’t you come to me when you got injured?” I lowered my eyes. “It’s minor. No need to trouble you.” The understated tone inexplicably irritated Ronan. Just as he was about to speak, voices from the Beta guards outside drifted through the door: “Alpha Ronan really cares about Vivian. When she got hurt by Rogues and injured her foot, he called in a helicopter and personally carried her on and off, didn’t even let her feet touch the ground.” Ronan’s heart clenched. From the corner of his eye, he couldn’t help glancing at me, seemingly waiting for me to interrogate and argue like before. But I didn’t even flutter an eyelash. I simply leaned quietly against the bed with my eyes closed, resting.

It wasn’t until I sat in his black SUV that he finally explained in a low voice: “Don’t listen to their nonsense. I was just following protocol. Vivian is the performer I hired for the music festival. Of course I had to take care of her when she got injured.” I murmured a soft “Mm” and said nothing more. Ronan suddenly erupted in anger: “You don’t believe me? Are you still holding a grudge?” “Nyla… I came to the hospital for you. What more do you want?” I looked out the window, didn’t even turn my head. “I just didn’t think it was serious enough to disturb you. Let’s go home.” That phrase again, like an automated response, so dismissive. Ronan slammed his fist on the steering wheel. The harsh honk shattered the silence, startling the music academy faculty and students across the street who had just finished performing at the music festival. One of the girls looked up. The moment moonlight fell on her face, the air in the car froze solid. Ronan couldn’t help but speak: “Vivian… what’s she doing here?” Ronan instinctively looked at me. After all, every time I’d seen her before, I’d lost control emotionally. But I only glanced over indifferently, then withdrew my gaze without a ripple. Ronan gripped the steering wheel tight, but his eyes drifted toward her. In the deep winter night, the girl wore only a thin performance outfit, hugging her arms, her nose tip red from cold. His hand was already on the door handle, concern practically spilling from his eyes. I understood perfectly. I pushed open the door and got out, even giving him an excuse: “If you need to patrol the territory, I can walk home myself.” Before he could respond, I’d already turned and headed for the intersection. Ronan caught up and grabbed my wrist: “I didn’t know she’d be here. Why won’t you believe me?” I nodded. “I believe you. She’s just a girl on her own, it’s not easy. Even if things ended, it’s normal to show concern. I understand.” Ronan stared at my face. No expression, didn’t seem like sulking. He felt something was very wrong. Before, I’d had such a strong need to share and possess him. Even finding a single long hair on his shirt would make me interrogate him until midnight. Now I was truly as he’d wished—no fights, no fuss, understanding and considerate. Yet his heart felt stuffed with soaking wet cotton, so stifling he couldn’t breathe. I pulled my hand back and turned to leave. When I reached the corner, I stopped and looked back. By the SUV, Ronan had already removed his coat and draped it over Vivian’s shoulders. He cupped her face and lowered his head to kiss her deeply. My body and soul felt inevitable pain, but I wasn’t surprised by this scene at all. I should have expected it long ago. And I would never again be like the first time I discovered his affair, questioning him like a madwoman: “Ronan! Have you no shame? I’ve been with you since I was eighteen. When we got married you said you’d love and cherish me forever, and now you’re telling me you fell in love with someone else?” Back then he’d laughed coldly after I drew blood: “You want to talk about shame? If you had any shame, would you have had sex with me the second time we met when you were eighteen? You’re an orphan with no parents. I’m the one who brought you out of the orphanage. You should be grateful to me!” Those words were like a poisoned blade, stabbing our years of sharing hardship together to pieces. My phone vibrated, pulling me from the memory. “Luna Nyla, we’ve confirmed your deceased biological parents were the former Alpha and former Luna of Ashclaw Pack. When would you have time to visit Ashclaw Pack? Your uncle, Ashclaw Pack Alpha Dean, very much wants to see you.” I pulled down my sleeve, covering the scar on my wrist: “Once I sever the mate bond with Ronan, I’ll leave here and go to Ashclaw Pack.” The person on the other end paused: “You and Alpha Ronan have been through so much together all these years. You don’t necessarily have to leave Pathseekers Pack.” I answered calmly: “I don’t love him anymore. I just want to leave here forever.”

When I returned to the residence and opened the door, I saw our wedding photo on the wall. The man in the photo smiled brilliantly, his nose affectionately nuzzling my forehead. That was taken when we loved each other most. I grew up in Pathseekers Pack’s orphanage. When I was eighteen, the director wanted to make me the companion of a violent, widowed old werewolf. While climbing the wall to escape the orphanage, I met Ronan, my fated mate. We fell in love at first sight. Ronan took me away from the orphanage. Back then, he was still the Alpha heir, not yet Pathseekers Pack’s Alpha. But he promised me he’d become Alpha as soon as possible and make me the honored Luna, so no one in Pathseekers Pack would ever dare bully me again. In the first three years after our marriage, Ronan trained desperately. Every time he went on dangerous missions or fought off Rogues, he’d tuck my photo into his breast pocket. I handled the household, being his most reliable support at home. Later, Ronan successfully became Alpha. His prestige grew higher and higher, and all kinds of people started surrounding him. Until I found a lipstick mark that wasn’t mine on the inside of his shirt collar. “A young woman was injured in the leg by Rogues. I helped her to the hospital and it got smudged by accident!” He irritably yanked open his collar. “Nyla, can you stop being so paranoid all the time?” “It’s because I’m afraid of you betraying me! Ronan, we said we’d be together forever, not even one day less!” We began fighting endlessly. I checked his mission records, his communication logs, even secretly followed and monitored him when he went to work. It was as if Ronan did it out of spite—he really started having affairs. He cycled through woman after woman. My body and soul suffered unimaginable torment. At his worst, Ronan deliberately displayed scratch marks left by other women on his back to provoke me. “Satisfied?” he sneered. “Didn’t you want to investigate? Now you’ve found out.” I felt like I was losing my mind. I knew I should let go, but I couldn’t. After all these years with Ronan, we’d already grown into each other’s flesh and blood. Separating would be bloody and raw. Staying together was mutual torture. But a year ago, he suddenly became well-behaved, suddenly changed his attitude, distanced himself from all the women around him, keeping only one young woman. I sent people to investigate. The moment I saw Vivian’s photo, I collapsed. The face in the photo looked exactly like me at eighteen—pure and clear. Ronan would rather love a substitute than love me again. That night, I lay in the bathtub and slit my wrists with a special dagger I’d bought from a witch. When Ronan broke down the door, his fingers were trembling. He held me and rushed to the hospital, his eyes frighteningly red: “Nyla! Have you lost your mind?! We’ll live well together. I promise, from now on it’s only you. I won’t see anyone else!” Lying in the hospital bed, I just felt tired. So tired I couldn’t even cry. And it was that very day that a Beta guard from Ashclaw Pack found me and handed me a yellowed file. “Nyla, we’ve discovered you’re the lost daughter of Ashclaw Pack’s former Alpha and Luna. Years ago, Rogues attacked Ashclaw Pack. Your parents sacrificed themselves protecting the pack. You also went missing in that attack. Later, your uncle became Ashclaw Pack’s Alpha. All these years, he’s never stopped looking for you.” I gripped that file, my fingertips ice cold. After the Beta guard left, I was drawn as if possessed to the window. In the garden below, Ronan was holding Vivian tightly in his arms. “I’m sorry, Vivian. She’s emotionally unstable and has attempted suicide before. She’s been hurt psychologically… I can’t leave her at a time like this.” “But trust me. Once her condition stabilizes, I’ll give you an answer.” The two kissed inseparably, like a pair of star-crossed lovers. In that moment, I felt the connected flesh being torn apart, ripped into a huge hole. The pain was so intense I couldn’t make a sound. On the seventh day lying in that hospital bed, I suddenly understood. I had to leave Ronan and personally sever all of this.

For seven straight days, Ronan didn’t return to the territory residence. I didn’t ask. I just started having someone draft divorce papers and organizing my personal belongings. Ronan and I had several properties. I usually lived in the one on the outskirts. But I had some things stored at the house Ronan and I shared in the city center. I decided to go there to retrieve them, but on the way, I suddenly felt pain. I knew—Ronan was having another affair. When I reached the city center house, I heard a woman’s delicate laughter and a man’s suppressed panting inside. Through the crack in the door, Vivian’s performance outfit was scattered on the floor. Ronan had her pinned against the wall, thrusting violently. The hand gripping her waist still wore our wedding ring on the ring finger. I clenched my palms so hard they ached, slowly exhaled, and closed the door. I didn’t go in. What would be the point of barging in? To tear and claw like a hysterical woman? Or to cry and recount all these years of devotion like a resentful wife? It was meaningless. A man who’d already replaced me in his heart—even if I won him back, it would only be an empty shell. I hurried downstairs, but Ronan, who’d chased after me, grabbed my wrist. His breathing was still unsteady, his collar askew. “What are you doing here?” I pulled my hand back, face calm: “Passing by, wanted to get some things. The door wasn’t open, so I left.” He stiffly made an excuse: “Vivian said she wanted a place to practice piano. I just lent her the key… Don’t overthink it.” I didn’t bother exposing this clumsy excuse and turned to leave. Suddenly, the sound of shattering glass came from inside the house, followed by flames shooting up! Ronan’s expression changed drastically. He clamped my chin, frightening fury burning in his eyes: “You did this?! Nyla, I thought you’d really come to your senses. Didn’t expect you to use this kind of tactic!” “Let me make this clear—I’m the one who let Vivian stay here! If anything happens to her, I absolutely won’t forgive you!” He roughly shoved me aside and rushed into the fire. I was about to leave, but suddenly remembered—the marriage certificate and the belongings of my parents that the Beta secretary had brought me were still locked in the old safe in that house. I grabbed a fire extinguisher from the hallway, smashed the glass, and climbed through the window into the heat wave. Inside, thick smoke billowed. Ronan was carrying Vivian out. Seeing me, his eyes turned cold: “What are you doing adding to the chaos?!” I ignored him and headed straight for the bedroom. Flames had already climbed up the curtains. The safe was next to the burning wardrobe. “Nyla! Are you crazy?! Get out!” Ronan roared from the doorway. I lunged toward the safe and turned the combination. The moment the door popped open, the burning chandelier overhead crashed down with a thunderous crash! Ronan instinctively shielded Vivian beneath him and retreated quickly. I was thrown by the blast. Glass shards cut my skin, blood instantly soaking my clothes. I gritted my teeth and pulled out the document pouch, clutching it tightly to my chest. Smoke choked into my lungs, my vision gradually blurring. Before consciousness sank into darkness, I heard Ronan’s footsteps carrying Vivian out, and the faint sound of sirens in the distance. When I woke again, I was lying in a hospital room. Ronan was opening the document pouch I’d risked my life to protect. Inside was the marriage certificate. “The marriage certificate? You risked your life for this?” I reached out and took the pouch back. Good thing Ronan hadn’t seen my parents’ belongings in the document pouch. As for his question—without the marriage certificate, how could I process the divorce? Ronan looked at me clutching the document pouch tightly, his brows furrowed: “All three of us would have been fine. You had to do this absurd thing to make me choose between you, to prove whether you’re the most important?” “I saved Vivian first because she was closer to me.” I stared at the hospital room’s white ceiling and murmured a faint “Mm.” “Nyla.” His tone softened, trying to explain. “Since I’ve already decided to return to our family, I won’t have any more entanglements with Vivian. Vivian… her family’s struggling. I’m just giving her some help, temporarily arranging housing.” Vivian wasn’t doing well, so he helped her right into bed to have sex. I finally lifted my eyes to look at him. My eyes were like stagnant water, without a ripple, abnormally calm. “I know. I understand.”

This calm was driving him insane. He stood up abruptly, but caught sight of the large burn on my arm. “Nyla, one injury wasn’t enough? You need more injuries to tie me down?” “Not anymore. I won’t be foolish again.” He wanted to say something, but the encrypted communicator rang. He quickly walked to the window to answer. I couldn’t hear the content clearly, only vaguely caught Vivian’s tearful voice. Ronan gave some low instructions, then turned to look at me: “There’s an urgent pack matter. I need to go to work. Rest and recover.” With that, he turned and left. Over the next several days, I stayed quietly in the hospital. Ronan had people send supplements and flowers. The internal phone rang daily too. I always had the duty nurse answer, only saying “Condition stable, no need for visits.” The day I was discharged, I went to settle the bill. Just as I handed over the invoice, an old woman shoved me aside. “My son-in-law is Pathseekers Pack’s Alpha. Let me go first.” I frowned: “Please wait in line.” The old woman shot me a look: “Who are you? My son-in-law is Pathseekers Pack Alpha Ronan! If you delay me getting medicine, can you take responsibility?” Before she finished speaking, Ronan had already rushed over from the other end of the corridor with Vivian. He pulled me aside and lowered his voice: “Vivian’s mother has a bad heart and can’t handle emotional stress. As Luna, you should let her go first. It’s only right.” Vivian supported her gasping mother, eyes reddening: “Nyla, I’m sorry… My mom’s old illness flared up. I was afraid she wouldn’t use expensive medicine, so I said Ronan was my boyfriend… Please don’t blame him. He’s just soft-hearted, can’t stand seeing elderly people suffer.” I quietly looked at the three of them. So because Vivian’s mother was sick, he left me injured and alone in the hospital? Forget it. None of it mattered anymore. I nodded and turned to leave. I’d only taken two steps when I heard Vivian’s tearful whisper: “Ronan, is Nyla angry? Will she do what she did last time again… I’m really afraid of affecting your future…” Ronan’s voice was soft but carried clearly: “Don’t overthink it. She grew up without parents. She can’t understand your feelings.” My fingers clenched suddenly, knuckles white. Step by step, I walked through the hospital corridor. Ronan’s footsteps chased from behind: “Nyla, I’ll take you home.” I didn’t turn back. Instead, I quickened my pace. Suddenly a rushing werewolf burst out and knocked me down. I fell hard to the ground, my arm burn seeping blood again. The fall was brutal. Something in my chest seemed to shatter completely. I bit down hard, nails digging into my palms, but tears rolled down beyond my control. Since childhood, I’d feared Christmas most. Watching the warm light through other families’ windows, hearing the laughter inside—that envy was like a dull knife cutting flesh. Ronan knew better than anyone that this was my deepest wound. But now, to comfort Vivian, he personally tore this scar open again and again. He rushed over and picked me up, voice suppressing anger: “Nyla! Do you have to be so stubborn?!” Before he finished speaking, a thermos flew through the air! Scalding soup splashed across my face. Vivian’s mother stood a few steps away, shaking with rage: “Shameless! Seducing my son-in-law?! I’ll teach you to seduce!” She rushed up and slapped me. I was struck so hard my head turned, falling to the ground. Then the cane came down heavily on my shoulder. A dull thud as bone met impact. Ronan grabbed Vivian’s mother’s cane before she could swing it again: “Calm down! It’s not what you think!” “Then what is it?!” Vivian’s mother shrieked. “This mistress throwing herself at you, you think I’m blind?!” I braced myself against the ground and stood: “Control your daughter! Who’s the mistress is crystal clear!” But Ronan whipped around, using a rapid whisper only we could hear: “She has severe heart disease, she can’t handle stress! Nyla, I’m begging you, don’t make a scene right now!” Then he quickly supported Vivian’s mother: “You’ve misunderstood. Nyla is my friend. She’s had psychological trauma, her emotions aren’t very stable…” He even pulled my medical records from his pocket. Vivian’s mother glanced at them and spat: “Brain problems? No wonder her parents died young, lacks proper upbringing!” Ronan half-supported, half-guided her away. From beginning to end, he never looked back at me once. I sat on the ground, watching their backs, unable to even cry anymore. A kind head nurse helped me back to the ward and rebandaged my wounds. “Luna Nyla,” she asked carefully, “Do you need… to notify the Beta guards?” I shook my head: “No need. Process my discharge.” Back at my home, I started packing. My phone vibrated, the screen lighting up. Vivian had updated her status. In the photo she wore Ronan’s jacket, leaning against his chest, caption: “Meeting you through the smoke of war, worth all the pain.” I calmly swiped past the screen and clicked “Unfollow.” Then I placed the divorce agreement I’d already signed on the table, making sure Ronan would see it the moment he came home. Downstairs, the car the guards had reserved for me had arrived. I got in and gave my destination: “Airport.” The car started, driving out of the residence gates. Just then, a black SUV came from the opposite direction, passing us. The back window was half-down. Ronan was turning his head talking to someone beside him. Vivian leaned on his shoulder, smiling brilliantly. The two cars sped in opposite directions. In the rearview mirror, the home I’d lived in for so many years grew farther and farther away, finally shrinking to a dot. Having sex with him at eighteen, exchanging wedding rings in the marriage hall at twenty, watching woman after woman beside him at twenty-eight… All the scenes flashed before my eyes, then were left far behind. It was all over. Now, I was going to find my parents. I was going to the Ashclaw pack they had protected.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “382321”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

I met Westley when I was fourteen and fell in love with him at eighteen. Ten years of deep affection, yet it couldn’t withstand a few words of manipulation from his new secretary: “Tell me, if you and I both fell down the stairs at the same time, who would Mr. Ford save first?” He indeed saved her first. He believed her self staged setup. He locked me in the freezer I feared most as punishment, where rats crawled all over me. My heart died, and I fled. But he chased me to Paris, and when he saw another man embracing me, he begged. “Celine, do you really not love me anymore?” Celine POV My friends all envied my relationship with Westley Ford. As the CEO of a multibillion dollar corporation, Westley was incredibly busy, always on the go. But during my three years studying in Paris, whenever I sent him a message or called, even if he was in an important company meeting, he would respond immediately. Knowing I was sensitive to cold, he would remind me over and over on video calls to bundle up. Hearing that I was losing sleep from thesis stress, he would sit in his office and talk to me on the phone for hours, even overseas, just to read me the fairy tales I loved as a child to help me fall asleep. When he learned I had a high fever, he abandoned billion-dollar contract negotiations and flew specifically to Paris to personally take care of me. Friends often teased him for being completely devoted to love. Westley would just smile indulgently. “My Celine is so outstanding. If I don’t treat her well, what if she falls for someone else and doesn’t want me anymore?” Hearing these words, I couldn’t help but smile, my heart filled with happiness. So I pulled several all-nighters, working hard to finish my defense early before his birthday this year, completing my studies. When I flew back filled with excitement, wanting to give him a birthday surprise, I overheard his conversation with friends outside a private room at a club. The door was ajar, and his friend’s voice carried notes of intoxication and envy. “Westley, when Celine Sterling finishes her studies and comes back, shouldn’t your wedding be put on the schedule?” After a brief silence, Westley’s voice rang out with obvious hesitation. “The wedding… let’s wait a bit longer.” The private room instantly fell somewhat quiet, everyone exchanging glances. Someone broke the silence. “Westley, are you drunk? Didn’t you used to be afraid she would run off with someone else, always saying that once she returned home, you’d propose to her immediately?” “I was indeed looking forward to it before, hoping she could graduate and return home to get married as soon as possible.” Westley seemed to laugh. “But separated by countries for three years, over a thousand days and nights. Somehow, that anticipation doesn’t seem as intense as it was in the beginning.” Immediately, everyone’s voices fell silent. Someone else cautiously probed. “You… don’t love Celine anymore?” Westley’s slender fingers gripped a glass wine goblet as he lowered his eyes and said softly, “Of course I still love her. It’s just that, somehow, I no longer feel that urgent desire for her to return as I did before.” Outside the private room door, my fingertips turned ice-cold, clutching tightly the birthday gift I had carefully prepared for him. The velvet box pressed deep into my palm, yet it couldn’t match one ten-thousandth of the dull pain in my heart. I had rushed back on his birthday with such joy, wanting to surprise him. Instead, I never expected to hear him say he was no longer so eager for my return. What did that make me, standing here? A self-deluded joke? The extreme embarrassment made my chest feel so tight I couldn’t breathe, my eyes stubbornly stinging with tears. I forced back the moisture welling in my eyes and was about to turn and leave when suddenly I saw a girl in a pale yellow dress approaching. I instinctively retreated into the shadows of a corridor corner. The girl in her early twenties walked into the private room and handed a glass of water to Westley. “Mr. Ford, drinking harms your health. Please drink less.” Westley reached out to take it, naturally brushing the loose strands of hair from her forehead. “Didn’t I tell you to clock out? You didn’t need to make a special trip to bring this.” The girl’s expression was sweet and tender. “Today is your birthday. I was worried you’d drink too much and have another headache attack.” “In that case, stay here and help me deal with them.” Westley’s lips curved slightly, the corners of his eyes and brows rippling with a smile as he pulled the girl to sit beside him. Whether intentionally or not, the girl’s foot twisted and she fell into his embrace. Westley instinctively reached out to steady her waist, catching her firmly. The moment their eyes met, an alluring blush crept across the girl’s fair cheeks, and Westley didn’t immediately push her away, saying something to her with helpless indulgence. That kind of look and manner had only appeared when we were passionately in love. The intimate, ambiguous scene in the private room was like a sharp, pointed needle stabbing straight into my vision. My aching heart suddenly felt like a shattered glass bottle. I stood frozen, feeling cold from head to toe.

Celine POV I recognized that girl. Her name was Sophie Evans. She was an intern secretary in the CEO’s office at Ford Corporation. Initially, when Westley mentioned Sophie Evans to me over video calls, his tone was so bland it bordered on displeased. “The new intern spills half the coffee on documents. I don’t know how the HR department hired her.” At the time, I didn’t think much of it and always advised him to be more tolerant. Later, Westley mentioned Sophie Evans more and more frequently. “This intern may be clumsy, but she’s quite hardworking. She works overtime until late every night. Even when I leave at dawn, I can still see her organizing materials at her desk.” “Sophie is actually pretty good. She even noticed that I get headaches when I drink, and every time I finish entertaining clients, she prepares water for me.” “The coffee Sophie makes lately suits my taste more and more. She really takes this job seriously, and she has quite a lively, interesting personality.” His perception of Sophie Evans gradually changed, and her title went from “the intern” to “Sophie.” Actually, all the signs were there. I just trusted him too much, never imagining that Westley, who loved me so much, would eventually change. I can’t remember how I left the club. I walked aimlessly and dazedly along the sidewalk until my phone suddenly vibrated in my pocket. Looking at the caller ID on the screen, I didn’t answer until the call was about to automatically disconnect. “Celine?” Westley’s voice on the phone sounded somewhat nervous and urgent. “I just saw your message about returning home early. Where are you now? Have you already arrived at the club?” In the past, hearing his familiar voice would have made me feel sweet inside. But now, recalling the scenes in that private room. A suffocating coldness spread through my heart, painful as a knife twisting in my gut. My nose tingled as my throat choked up for a long time. All the questions I wanted to ask him finally coalesced into one sentence: “I just got off the plane…” Hearing this, Westley breathed a sigh of relief. His tension and unease dissipated, and his tone softened a bit. “Then wait for me at the airport. I’ll come pick you up.” I forced down my sob. “No need. I’m feeling a bit airsick and uncomfortable. I’ll just take a cab home.” “Okay.” Westley didn’t think much of it. “Then I’ll see you at home.” I hummed in agreement, then paused and added, “Happy birthday.” Westley’s tone became even softer. “Why didn’t you wait for me to get home to wish me happy birthday in person?” I didn’t want to have an unpleasant scene with him on his birthday, so I forced a light smile. “I was afraid your party would end too late, and if I waited until after midnight to wish you well, it wouldn’t mean as much.” “It won’t end too late. No one is more important to me than you.” Westley’s voice was as tenderly indulgent as always. “I’ll be home soon. Wait for me at our new wedding villa, okay?” No one was more important to him than me… If I hadn’t heard those words in the private room with my own ears, if I hadn’t seen with my own eyes that he didn’t push away Sophie Evans when she deliberately fell into his arms, I might have believed him. When the call ended, I stood by the roadside under the dim streetlights, pulling my suitcase. I looked up, about to hail a passing taxi, when I inadvertently glimpsed a black sedan speeding past. In just under three seconds, through the half-lowered window, I still clearly saw Westley’s handsome profile in the back seat, and beside him, a smiling Sophie Evans. My heart trembled violently, as if something had torn it apart viciously. I suddenly remembered three years ago when I was leaving, Westley held me tightly at the airport and said reluctantly, “When you come back, we’ll never be apart again.” Now I had returned, but our relationship could never go back to what it was. After only three short years of separation, that passionate, profound love had already changed. He no longer anticipated my return, and he even let another woman fall into his arms. I forcefully pushed back the tears in my eyes. Then I took out my phone and dialed a number. “Hello, is it still possible for me to accept your company’s job offer now?” “Of course it is.” The male voice on the other end paused, then asked in confusion, “But Miss Sterling, didn’t you say before that you wanted to return home to get married and focus your career domestically to be with your husband?” I smiled bitterly. “He doesn’t need me by his side, and this wedding can’t happen anymore.” The other party was silent for a few seconds. “Alright, can you start in half a month?” “Yes.” “Miss Sterling, then we’ll see you in half a month.”

Celine POV I returned to the villa at Crescent Bay and handed the birthday gift watch to a servant. “When Westley comes back, please give this to him for me.” “Yes, Miss Sterling.” I lay in the bedroom bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. Until I heard the sound of a car outside the villa. I picked up my phone to check the time. The person who said he’d be back soon had actually taken over three hours. Then I saw that Sophie Evans had posted a new update on Instagram. “On his birthday, I said I wanted to see the stars, and without a word he left his friends to take me to the observatory. I even saw the legendary Orion constellation. These stars all over the sky are so romantic!” The accompanying images showed a man with his back to the camera, standing before an astronomical telescope, in a nine-grid layout. I curved my lips mockingly and gave her a like. Footsteps came from downstairs, and soon the bedroom door was pushed open. One side of the bed sank down as a pair of strong, powerful arms pulled me into an embrace. “Celine… are you asleep?” Up close, I could smell an unfamiliar perfume on him. A wave of discomfort rose in my chest as I pretended to be half-asleep and murmured. “Honey, I’m really glad you could make it back today.” Westley’s hand roamed over my body, and when he touched a sensitive area, I pressed both hands against his chest, stopping his next move. I frowned. “I haven’t adjusted to the time difference yet. My head is still dizzy and I’m not feeling well.” It was supposed to be a passionate reunion, like newlyweds. He hadn’t expected me to refuse. Westley paused. “We haven’t had sex in so long. Don’t you want to?” “I really don’t feel well today. Next time.” As my words fell, he was silent for a long while. Finally, he seemed to sigh helplessly and kissed my eyes. “Alright, I won’t touch you. Rest well tonight.” Westley showered and changed into pajamas, and when he lay back in bed, he just held me in his arms. In all our years together, apart from playful little spats, Westley and I had never had a real argument. However, I never imagined that our first real fight would happen at the welcome-home party Westley threw for me. And it would be because of Sophie Evans. At the party, friends were playing truth or dare. Westley lost and drew a penalty: kiss the person of the opposite sex to his left for five minutes. And the person to his left was Sophie Evans. Everyone looked at Westley, then at me. The air suddenly felt awkward. Sophie said softly and weakly, “Maybe… we should just skip it. Miss Sterling doesn’t seem like someone who can handle this kind of game.” Westley gently patted the back of my hand, as if explaining. “Celine, this is just a penalty, nothing more. Don’t worry, at most our lips will just touch. I won’t really kiss her.” I hadn’t said a word yet when he turned to look at Sophie Evans. Under Sophie Evans’s nervous yet expectant gaze, he leaned closer and lowered his head to kiss her lips. The others erupted in teasing cheers. Sophie Evans’s expression became increasingly enjoyable and engaged. She even closed her eyes, her cheeks flushed, slightly opening her mouth to respond to his kiss. Westley felt her response, and his dark, bottomless eyes deepened. An ambiguous atmosphere flowed between them, and the scene looked as if they were the deeply loving couple. My eyes stung painfully, a pent-up frustration blocking my chest. I couldn’t help but set down my wine glass heavily. “You all have fun. I really can’t handle this kind of game!” With those words, I stood up and strode away. In the hallway, Westley chased after me and grabbed my wrist. “It’s just a game. Do you really need to be this angry?” I found it laughable. “Just a game?” Westley’s handsome face was tense. “A bet is a bet. Everyone who lost did their penalty. I can’t be the only one lacking sportsmanship and refusing to accept the penalty.” “Westley, do you think I’m blind? She was using her tongue!” Westley’s expression changed slightly. “She just got carried away…” “Carried away?” What a nice excuse. “She got carried away, but what about you? What’s your excuse?” My lips trembled slightly as my nails dug into my palms. “Were you also carried away, or was it sportsmanship that made you not push her away even though you knew she was using her tongue?!”

Celine POV After speaking, I looked into Westley’s dark eyes. In his eyes was a cold, detached clarity I had never seen before. “Today is your party. Do you really have to make such a big deal over a game penalty?” My heart felt scorched by flames, yet I laughed instead. “Fine, let’s not talk about the penalty. Then let me ask you why is Sophie Evans at my party?” Westley’s brow furrowed tightly. “She’s my secretary. This party was arranged and organized by her. Why shouldn’t she be here?” I was utterly astonished. “A secretary can actually sit together with her boss and his friends, playing games with no sense of professional boundaries or hierarchy?” “Secretaries are employees, not slaves without human rights. What boundaries or hierarchy?” Westley’s expression was clearly displeased. “Besides, it’s not working hours now. Letting her sit and play with us. Is that really so hard for you to accept?” But what proper secretary would deliberately fall into her boss’s arms? What proper secretary would have her boss take her to see stars? Would a proper secretary get “carried away” and use her tongue during a penalty game? Why didn’t any of his previous secretaries behave like Sophie Evans? Before I could ask any of these questions, Westley’s cold, hard voice sounded again. “We’ve been separated for three years, rarely together. We finally ended our long-distance relationship. You came back and were cold to me, wouldn’t let me touch you. I respected that.” “But you shouldn’t use dirty thoughts to misunderstand my relationship with Sophie as something inappropriate.” Was I the one with dirty thoughts, misunderstanding them? As I stood frozen, Westley’s thin lips pressed together. He spoke coolly and distantly. “You know how much I love you. Sophie is a good girl. Hardworking, serious, and responsible. She’s not what you think she is.” “Celine, I’m human too. I get tired. Do you know how exhausting it is when you question me over these little things?” I couldn’t describe what I felt at that moment. I only felt his words were like blades slicing through my flesh, leaving me unable to breathe from the pain. In his eyes, all the inappropriate, boundary-crossing ambiguous behavior between him and Sophie Evans was just trivial. My concern and questioning had somehow become my fault, making him feel tired. I remained silent. Westley realized his words had been too harsh. He had never spoken to me like this before. He said irritably, “Let’s both cool down. I’ll stay at the company tonight. You should think about whether you’re being unreasonable.” With that, Westley turned and went back into the private room, not caring about me anymore. Tears slid down my face and into the corners of my mouth. I tasted their salty, bitter flavor. After an unknown amount of time, I took a deep breath. Finally, I left the party alone. Returning to the villa, passing by the entrance, my red, swollen eyes caught sight of the watch in the trash can. It was the birthday gift I had carefully selected and brought back from abroad for him. And now it had been discarded in the trash. I suddenly remembered how when I was abroad, I made no friends, had no social activities, and spent day and night in the library studying. All because he said he looked forward to me returning home early to marry him. Only three years. I thought in those short three years, his feelings for me had never changed. But the truth was, I was the only one still hoping to return home and get married. As for him, not only did he no longer anticipate it, he didn’t even want the birthday gift I gave him… My fingers trembled as I picked up the watch. But just as I lifted it, after thinking for a moment, I threw it back into the trash. Since Westley didn’t care anymore, why should I be reluctant to let go? A relationship that was no longer pure. Even if it tore my heart to pieces, I would rather discard it than keep it. During the two days Westley didn’t come home, through Sophie Evans’s frequent Instagram updates, I learned he was indeed staying at the company. Sophie Evans’s first post: “He drank too much and had a headache. I massaged it for him and he praised my pressure as just right. So happy.” The accompanying image showed Westley sitting behind his desk, rubbing his temples in pain. I smiled coldly and gave her a like. The second post: “Today I accidentally broke his favorite cup. I thought he’d be furious, but instead he patted my head and said it was okay.” The accompanying image showed a ceramic cup shattered into countless pieces. That was a ceramic piece Westley and I had made together at a pottery studio, our first joint craft project. Westley thought it had great commemorative value and had always carefully preserved it, never letting anyone else touch it. I tugged at the corner of my lips and gave this post a like too. The day Westley came home, I was organizing my belongings. Seeing me pack all my things into cardboard boxes, Westley’s expression changed. He strode over quickly and grabbed my hand. “Why are you packing these things?”

Celine POV I pulled my hand from his palm. “These are all old things I don’t need anymore. I want to pack them up and throw them away.” Westley looked at me and nodded. “You’re right. Old things should be thrown away. When I have time, I’ll take you shopping for new things to replace them.” Never again. I would never bring any of my belongings here again. Before Westley came home, I had already donated the precious items he’d given me to charity. What remained were just some unimportant things. “Celine, let’s stop fighting, okay?” Westley’s chiseled face was warm and gentle. “I’ve thought a lot these past two days. I was wrong before. I should have been considerate of your feelings and refused that vulgar game, and I shouldn’t have said those things to you.” His apology sounded sincere, but I knew our relationship was like the ceramic cup Sophie Evans had broken with his permission. Shattered beyond repair. Even if we tried to mend it, we could never return to the past, never restore it to its original wholeness. I opened my mouth. “Westley, let’s break-” Before I could finish the sentence, his phone suddenly rang. Westley took out his phone. I glimpsed that it was Sophie Evans calling. “What is it?” Seeing him answer without hesitation, my gaze dimmed. Without a word, I picked up a cardboard box and turned away. Outside the villa, I threw the box into the trash, as if discarding our years of relationship along with it. Westley walked over at that moment and took my hand. “Before you came back, didn’t you keep mentioning that restaurant in the east part of the city? Come on, I’ve made a reservation.” Thinking we should have a proper ending with some dignity, I didn’t refuse. “Alright. After dinner, I also have something to tell you.” At the restaurant, I wasn’t surprised to see Sophie Evans. I asked nothing, but Westley explained on his own. “Sophie made the reservation. She doesn’t want the incident at the party to cause a misunderstanding between us. She wants to apologize to you in person.” I lowered my eyes mockingly, saying nothing. The table was filled with dishes I liked. Halfway through the meal, Westley stepped away to take a work call. Sophie Evans stood nearby, examining me with an appraising look, then suddenly said, “Looking at you like this, you don’t seem particularly special. What exactly does Mr. Ford like about you? Your face?” I paused in drinking my juice and raised my eyes to meet hers. “He likes me. Are you jealous?” “Me, jealous?” She said contemptuously, “When you weren’t here, I was the one by his side. He’s gotten used to having me around and takes me everywhere. What do you have that I should be jealous of?” Without Westley present, Sophie Evans shed her meek demeanor, becoming haughty and disdainful. She studied me. “By the way, I’ve noticed you’ve been liking all my recent Instagram posts about him, then acting as if nothing happened. What exactly do you mean by that?” Sophie Evans posted those updates specifically to make me see how special Westley was to her. She was deliberately provoking me, yet unexpectedly, I didn’t make a scene. A mocking curve formed at my lips. “Liking them means I’ve seen them. Acting unbothered is because no matter what game you’re playing, I simply don’t care.” Sophie Evans stiffened, her face about to crack. Suddenly, she laughed coldly with indifference. “Really? But you probably won’t be able to stay this calm much longer.” My brow furrowed slightly. Before I could ask what Sophie Evans had done, I felt an unbearable itching all over my body. Then my skin broke out in red hives, and my throat tightened uncomfortably. Realizing something was wrong, I looked sharply at Sophie Evans. “What did you do?” “Mr. Ford mentioned you’re allergic to mangoes.” Sophie Evans smiled innocently. “So I added some mango juice to the orange juice you just drank.” My face changed dramatically as I immediately stood up to go to the hospital. Seeing this, Sophie Evans quickly stepped forward to block my path, grabbing my arms and clinging to me. “I’m sorry, Miss Sterling. If my presence has affected your relationship with Mr. Ford, I…” I was anxious to get to the hospital and had no time for her performance. “Get out of my way!” Hearing the commotion, Westley arrived just in time to see me push Sophie Evans to the ground. His pupils constricted as he strode forward and pushed me aside. “Celine, what are you doing? Have you lost your mind?!”

Celine POV I staggered back several steps, my waist hitting the sharp edge of the table hard. Instantly, I gasped in pain, unable to stand straight. Realizing he’d used too much force and hurt me, Westley guiltily started to come help me up, but then Sophie Evans cried out in pain from the other side. “My… my foot hurts so much.” Westley stopped in his tracks, his attention drawn to her as he quickly turned and walked to her side. “What’s wrong? Where are you hurt?” “I think I twisted my ankle. I can’t move…” Sophie Evans raised her soft, pitiful eyes, crying pitifully with tears streaming down. “Mr. Ford, please don’t blame Miss Sterling. She was just too angry so she pushed me. If it weren’t for my presence causing her to misunderstand, she wouldn’t have done this…” Westley’s emotions were complex and conflicted, his handsome face tense. “Stop talking. Let me take you to the hospital to check your foot first.” I was in so much pain I couldn’t straighten my back, cold sweat pouring down as I tried to call out to him. Looking up, I saw only his back as he carried Sophie Evans away. Sophie Evans smiled triumphantly at me, showing off her victory. That scene was like a sharp blade piercing straight through me, stabbing me until I was bloody and riddled with wounds. Thinking of how he had just apologized to me earlier, saying we wouldn’t fight anymore, the moment now felt extremely ironic. Was I the one throwing tantrums, or had he clearly changed his heart but refused to admit it? My whole body itched and ached, my skin covered in large red hives. The suffocating feeling of the allergic reaction surged like a tidal wave. I tried to take out my phone to call emergency services, but just as I unlocked it, everything suddenly went black. After a spell of dizziness, I lost consciousness. When I woke up, I was in a hospital room, the smell of disinfectant filling my nostrils. I stared blankly at the ceiling as a nurse’s voice came from beside me. “You’re finally awake. Do you know you went into allergic shock? If you’d been brought to the hospital any later, your life would have been in danger.” I was severely allergic to mangoes and normally wouldn’t dare eat or drink anything related to them. After the nurse left the room, without hesitation, I decisively picked up my phone and made a call. “Hello, I want to report a crime. Someone deliberately tried to murder me.” The person who arrived before the police was Westley. He stood by the hospital bed, his brow furrowed tightly. “I received word that you filed a police report, accusing Sophie of trying to harm you?” I responded with a cold statement. “That’s correct.” Westley’s frown deepened. “I’ve already notified the police station. The police won’t be coming.” His unexpected words reached my ears, and I looked at him in shock. “What did you say?” “Sophie would never do something like this.” Westley’s expression was dark. “Besides, you were clearly the one who pushed her, causing her ankle injury. How can you falsely accuse her first?” I couldn’t believe it. My hands gripped the bedsheet tightly as I couldn’t control my emotions, accusing him, “Westley, she deliberately added mango juice to my orange juice. When I tried to go to the hospital, she deliberately blocked me, so I couldn’t help but push her!” His gaze grew darker with displeasure. “If you didn’t want to accept her apology, fine, but why must you slander her like this?” “I’m slandering her? Then what is this?” I rolled up my sleeves, exposing the skin on both my arms, covered entirely in unsightly red hives. Actually, I had hives on my face too, but he seemed to overlook them. My lips trembled. “Did I deliberately do this to myself just to slander her? You’ll know the truth if you just investigate!” After seeing the glaring allergic symptoms on my body, Westley froze for a long time. His face darkened as he actually went to investigate.When Westley came to the hospital room again, his tone and attitude were clearly more apologetic. “She’s admitted to it. This matter is indeed related to her.” I pressed my lips together, not yet reacting. Westley immediately continued. “But she didn’t do it on purpose.” I laughed. “Not on purpose?”

Celine POV Westley explained unhurriedly. “She just accidentally mixed up the mango juice and orange juice. She didn’t know beforehand that the glass you were drinking was mango juice.” I said incredulously, “Sophie explained it to you like this, and you believed her?” “Otherwise, what could the truth be? She has no grudge against you. She’s kind-hearted and lively. Why would she deliberately harm you? Celine, don’t you think you’re being overly aggressive and thinking too badly of her?” His words, thrown at me one after another, were like knives cutting into my flesh inch by inch. Westley’s tone remained unchanged as he continued. “However, it was her carelessness that caused your allergic reaction, so I’ve already punished her for it.” “What punishment did you give her?” Westley steadied himself. “I docked three months of her salary.” If he hadn’t said it so seriously, I would have almost thought he was joking. Westley walked over to sit by the bed, reaching up to tuck my hair behind my ear. “There. You also pushed her and injured her, and I punished her for you. This matter ends here.” The man who once cared about me with his whole heart, who felt terrible even when I got a small cut on my finger. Now, when I had an allergic reaction so severe I nearly died, he wasn’t worried or anxious. Even his punishment for Sophie was brushed aside. I was exhausted, wrapped in endless fatigue, without even the desire to argue with him anymore. Westley looked at me with an inscrutable gaze. “Celine, you’ll stay by my side forever, right?” I couldn’t help but curve my lips slightly. “What do you think?” Westley didn’t detect the mockery in my tone, taking it for granted that after all our years together, I couldn’t possibly leave him over these recent unpleasantries. He spoke softly and indulgently. “You said earlier that you had something to tell me after dinner. What did you want to say?” I fell silent for a moment. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter anymore.” I had originally planned to part ways amicably with him, intending to tell him truthfully that I had accepted a job offer from a foreign company and would be leaving soon. But now, he didn’t need to know. Hearing this, Westley didn’t think much of it. He lowered his head to kiss my eyes. “Rest well. I won’t go anywhere these next two days. I’ll stay at the hospital with you.” I paid him no mind, lying down and turning my back to him. Westley hadn’t been at the hospital for even two days when Sophie Evans called. On the phone, I didn’t know what Sophie said to him, but his expression grew grave as his eyes hesitantly turned toward me. After hanging up, he opened his mouth hesitantly. “Celine, I…” “It’s fine, go ahead.” Before he could finish, I spoke up. “I don’t need you here anymore.” Perhaps the words “don’t need you” grated on his ears, or perhaps my recent coldness made him vaguely uneasy. Westley explained sincerely. “There’s a problem with a project at the company. I have to go handle it.” “Mm, I understand. Go ahead.” Westley hesitated for a moment, but eventually stood up. “When you’re discharged, I’ll come pick you up.” Leaving those words, he left the hospital room. When the room fell quiet, I pulled my phone from under my pillow and checked the date. Then I opened a ticket booking app and purchased an international flight ticket. On the day of my discharge, Westley broke his promise after all. He didn’t come pick me up from the hospital. Instead, he sent me a message: “The project issue isn’t resolved yet. Go home first. I’ll bring you an apology gift later.” After reading it, I put my phone away expressionlessly and processed my own discharge paperwork. Returning to the villa at Crescent Bay, I packed my suitcase and gathered my passport, documents, and other items. Just as I was about to leave with my suitcase, Sophie Evans suddenly appeared at the villa. “Miss Sterling!” Sophie rushed over with red-rimmed eyes, grabbing my wrist. “I’m so glad you’re okay! I’ve felt terrible about mistakenly giving you that juice…” I coldly shook off her hand. “What game are you playing now?” Sophie’s expression changed instantly, a cold smile appearing at the corner of her mouth. “You’ll find out soon enough.” She stepped back several paces and suddenly flipped over the balcony railing, falling into the pool below. “Help!” The shrill scream attracted Westley, who had just gotten out of his car. He looked up to see Sophie fall with a splash from the second floor into the pool below. “Sophie!!” And I was standing right at the balcony edge at that moment. Westley dove into the pool without hesitation.

Celine POV “Celine! After three years abroad, I never imagined you’d become so vicious, actually capable of pushing someone off a balcony!” After Westley pulled Sophie from the pool, he glared at me furiously, filled with towering rage. “How exactly did Sophie offend you? Why do you dislike her so much that you’d even try to kill her!” My nails dug into my palms. “I didn’t push her!” “I saw it with my own eyes, and you still want to deny it!” Sophie was soaked through, curled up in Westley’s arms like a frightened deer, her slender fingers clutching his shirt tightly. She seemed traumatized, on the verge of tears, trembling as she said, “Mr. Ford, don’t blame Miss Sterling. I was careless before and caused her allergic reaction. She was angry at me, so she accidentally pushed me. She definitely didn’t mean to…” “She’s always had prejudice against you. Whether it was deliberate or not, she knows in her heart!” Westley said darkly. “Celine, I’ve spoiled you too much, indulged you too much, which is why you’ve become so arrogant and presumptuous!” Finally, he ordered the servants coldly. “Lock her in the basement freezer. Let her calm down and reflect!” Several servants immediately stepped forward, holding my arms on both sides, dragging me toward the basement freezer. “I didn’t push her! This was all Sophie Evans’s self-staged act! Westley, what gives you the right to treat me like this?!” I couldn’t believe it, struggling angrily. The servant sneered coldly. “What gives Mr. Ford the right to treat you like this? Because during the three years you were gone, the person by his side was Miss Sophie! And you dared to push Miss Sophie off the balcony. That’s utterly heinous!” I was shoved into the basement freezer, stumbling and falling to the ground. My scraped palm immediately oozed blood, the pain making me furrow my brow tightly. Looking up, I saw those servants carrying a burlap sack, pouring something inside. My pupils constricted violently. “What did you put in here?” “Miss Sophie was afraid you’d be too lonely in the freezer alone, so she had us catch some rats to keep you company!” The servant finished speaking with a cold laugh and slammed the iron door shut with a bang. The basement freezer was pitch black, so dark you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face. In the vast space, not only did a bone-chilling cold spread, but there were also sounds of rats scurrying and squeaking. My scalp tingled as I shivered from the cold, hugging my legs tightly as I curled up in a corner. Rats occasionally crawled onto my body. At first, I would scream uncontrollably and swat them away, but after an unknown amount of time passed, my hands and feet grew so numb from the cold that I no longer had the strength to deal with the rats scurrying all over me. Before losing consciousness from hypothermia, I hazily remembered. Westley knew I feared cold the most. During those years abroad when he couldn’t be by my side constantly, he would video call me almost daily to confirm I was dressed warmly enough. But now, for Sophie Evans’s sake, he had locked me in the place I feared most. How laughable. How ironic. I met him when I was fourteen and fell in love with him at eighteen. Until now, a full ten years had passed. Ten years of devotion, yet it was no match for Sophie, who had only been by his side for less than two years. I don’t know how long I was locked in the basement freezer, don’t know how I was rescued, and have no idea how long I was unconscious. When I woke up, I was lying in a hospital room. The space around me was empty, not a single person. I reached for my phone by the bed and opened Instagram. Sophie Evans had posted another update, as expected. “He knew I was traumatized and upset, so he put aside all company business to specially take me out to cheer me up.” The photo showed them walking hand in hand on a beach at sunset. They looked exactly like a couple in love. Tender, sweet, loving, and romantic. My heart grew utterly cold, yet I laughed instead. Laughed until tears came. He locked me in the basement freezer without a care, then turned around to take Sophie Evans out for fun. Ten years, Westley. So this is all ten years of devotion amounts to. After being discharged this time, I went directly to close my bank accounts, then took my luggage, visa, and passport. As I was going through security at the airport, a message from Westley appeared on my phone. “Do you know what you did wrong?” Less than two seconds later, he sent another message. “The custom wedding dress I ordered for you has arrived. I’ll be back tomorrow. Let’s discuss our wedding date and go try on the dress together.” I stared coldly at the two messages. This wedding would never happen. And we would never see each other again. Soon enough, he would receive the “gift” I left for him.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “382322”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

The day Vivienne returned to the country, I created a deduction system for Holden Prescott in my phone’s notes app. Every time he ignored me, every time he hurt me, I deducted ten points. When all 100 points were gone, I would leave him for good. On my birthday, he claimed he had to work late, but instead had sex with Vivienne in his studio. I stood outside the door, listening to the intimate moans and gasps inside, and calmly deducted the final ten points. Zero points. I turned and walked away without looking back. Not until he finally realized what he’d lost did he kneel outside my office building, crying and begging me to get back together. And there I stood, arm in arm with my new lover, saying coolly, “Holden Prescott, your love means nothing.” Lucia’s POV In the fourth year of our marriage, I created a deduction system. In my phone’s notes app, I recorded every instance of Holden Prescott’s neglect and every wound he inflicted. Each injury cost him 10 points. When all one hundred points were gone, I would leave him completely. The first time, he called out Vivienne’s name in his sleep. Deducted 10 points. The second time, he asked me to grow my hair long because Vivienne liked long hair. Deducted 10 points. The third time, on my birthday, he gave me the leftover mango cake Vivienne had been eating, forgetting I was allergic to mango. Deducted 10 points. The fourth time, he refused to design clothes for me, saying Vivienne was his only muse. Deducted 10 points. When I returned from my business trip to Milan, I took a cab home from the airport, dragging my suitcase behind me. The moment I walked through the door, I saw Vivienne sitting on Holden’s lap. She was wearing a semi-transparent sample garment. Under the lights, her sexy lingerie was clearly visible underneath. When he saw me, Holden froze for a moment, but there was no joy in his eyes. He frowned and offered an explanation. “Lucia, don’t misunderstand. We’re working.” When I didn’t react, he added, “Vivienne is trying on the new design. You know, only she can properly showcase the advantages of my designs.” I nodded in agreement, then asked in confusion, “So trying on clothes requires sitting on your lap?” His displeasure was immediate. His face darkened as he accused me, “Why is your mind so dirty? We’re measuring dimensions up close. My clothes only work when they’re custom-tailored. They’re not like those ordinary things you buy at the mall.” Vivienne also chimed in carefully with an apology. “That’s right, Lucia. Please don’t misunderstand. I’ll leave right now if it bothers you. Just please don’t fight with Holden.” Holden. How intimate that nickname sounded. I smiled faintly. “I guess I did misunderstand. After all, you fashion people are in your own world. As an outsider, I really don’t understand art.” “I was being vulgar, assuming people in your circle just mess around with each other. I didn’t realize you were so pure. My apologies.” They caught my sarcasm, but since I’d apologized, Holden had nothing to say. But he wasn’t planning to let me off that easily. His gaze fell on my suitcase, and he sneered. “You say you’re not upset? Then why are you dragging your suitcase around?” “Running away from home again? Lucia, that trick only works once. Are you addicted to running away?” Vivienne cooed as she tried to mediate between us, saying understanding things. “Lucia, please don’t run away. Holden and I really were just taking measurements. Don’t leave. I should be the one to go…” Vivienne made to leave, but Holden instinctively tightened his arm around her slender waist, his face dark as he turned to me. “Lucia, have you made enough of a scene? Your work is work, but mine isn’t?” “I used to tolerate your tantrums, but I’ve explained everything. What answer are you looking for? Hm?” In the past when we fought, I did like to drag my suitcase around by the door, waiting for him to ask me to stay. But this time. I looked at him, my tone flat. “Holden, I just got back from a business trip. I’ve been away from home for half a month.” “You never even noticed I wasn’t here?” As soon as the words left my mouth, the expression on Holden’s face froze. I hadn’t been home, and he’d never even realized. Probably because for the past two weeks, he’d been busy designing clothes with Vivienne at home. I ignored his shock and dragged my suitcase further inside. Passing by the master bedroom, the door was half open. The bed was piled with lace lingerie and stockings. Those were Vivienne’s things. I didn’t stop walking and turned toward the guest room instead. “It’s inconvenient for Miss Vivienne to commute back and forth. She can stay for the next few days. I’ll give you two the master bedroom so you can focus on your creative work.” I pushed open the guest room door without looking back. “I still have to go back to the office tonight to work overtime, so I won’t be coming home. Make yourselves comfortable.” As I was closing the door, Holden rushed over and grabbed me. He looked at me with a hint of panic. “Lucia, you’ve always wanted me to design an outfit for you, right? When this fashion show is over, I’ll design one for you.” “Your birthday is next week anyway. I’ll give it to you as a birthday present.” He was certain I would be happy. After all, to get him to design something for me, I had once humbled myself to the dust. I gently pried his fingers off. “Sounds good.” I said, “Go back now. Vivienne is still waiting.” His gaze lingered on my face for a moment, confirming I wasn’t angry. He let out a breath of relief and left. After the door closed, I took off my clothes and showered. Coming out of the bathroom, I took out my phone and began recording carefully. “Eighth time: He was busy designing clothes for Vivienne and didn’t notice I’d gone on a business trip. Deducted 10 points.” I stared at the mere 20 points remaining in my notes. When these were gone, I could leave him.

Lucia’s POV To meet my project deadline, I stayed at the office. During that time, Holden didn’t call once. Probably because Vivienne had moved into the master bedroom, and he was busy finding creative inspiration from his muse. He simply couldn’t remember he had a wife. Not until Friday night, my birthday, did Holden send me a text. “Lucia, Vivienne’s sample garment still needs adjustments. I can’t spend your birthday with you tonight.” “I’ll make up your birthday present later.” I wasn’t at all surprised he was missing my birthday. My only surprise was that he actually remembered today was my birthday. In the past, I’d start hinting a month before my birthday, begging him to spend it with me. But what was the result? The first year, Vivienne was in a bad mood, so he left me sitting alone in the restaurant we’d booked and flew to Paris overnight to be with her. He disappeared for an entire week without a single word of explanation. The second year, he took Vivienne to London Fashion Week while I waited at home in front of cold dishes, from dawn until dark. Back then, I called him frantically, demanding to know, “Holden, who’s more important, me or Vivienne?” How did he respond? He said, “Can you stop being so childish? We’re doing this for work. The adult world isn’t just about romance.” Back then, I would cry and make scenes. I’d grab scissors and charge into his study threatening to cut up those clothes. But now, I felt nothing inside. My finger tapped the screen as I replied with one word: “Okay.” Putting down my phone, I went to the convenience store and bought a small mousse cake. Sitting by the window of the convenience store, I stuck a candle in it. The cheap candle’s flame flickered weakly, ready to go out at any moment. I didn’t make a wish. I just blew it out. Taking the first bite, I remembered that painful experience. It was also my birthday. Holden had come home late for once, bringing back half a cake. He said, “Sorry I’m late. I brought this for you.” I was thrilled beyond measure. Even though it was leftovers, I cherished it like treasure and ate it. But after just one bite, I tasted mango. I’m severely allergic to mango. He knew that. I forced down the swelling pain in my throat and asked him, “Why is it mango flavored? Don’t you know I’m allergic to mango?” He froze for a moment, his eyes evasive. “Oh, I forgot. Vivienne likes mango. I bought it out of habit.” That night, an ambulance took me away. My whole body broke out in hives, and I couldn’t breathe. And there at my bedside, all he said was, “Next time remember to remind me you’re allergic to mango.” The mousse cake in my mouth was sickeningly sweet. I swallowed it down and forced myself to finish before taking out my phone. Opening my notes, below the remaining 20 points, I typed another line. “Ninth time: He missed my birthday again to alter clothes for Vivienne. Deducted 10 points.” Looking at the lonely number on the screen. 10 points left. Just one more time. I closed my phone, stood up, and went back to the office.

Lucia’s POV Around midnight, Grayson called to tell me Holden had gotten into a fight at the hospital and his hand was injured. Grayson was Holden’s close friend. I frowned and asked him what exactly happened. He hemmed and hawed on the phone. “Vivienne was being harassed by some creeps at a bar, and Holden was trying to help her… Don’t read too much into it. Holden was just helping Vivienne. The situation is urgent though. You should come to the hospital as soon as possible.” After hanging up, I smiled silently in the darkness. In the past, I treasured Holden’s hands even more than he did. For a designer, how important hands are goes without saying. I got up slowly and got dressed. Looking at my pale face in the mirror, I even added some lipstick. Only then did I leave and take a cab to the hospital. At the hospital, I asked the front desk for the room number. When I reached the hospital room door, it wasn’t fully closed. There was a gap. The conversation inside drifted out in fragments. “Holden, your hands are insured for over a hundred million. You’d waste them just to play hero for Vivienne? That’s way too high a price for rescuing a damsel in distress.” Holden’s voice was lazy. “This little injury is nothing. As long as she’s okay, it doesn’t matter if they’re ruined.” In that moment, my hand froze in midair. I remembered four years ago when I accidentally spilled coffee and scalded the back of his hand. He didn’t speak to me for three whole days, coldly reproaching me for being clumsy. Another voice from inside continued, full of sighs. “Back when Vivienne got a boyfriend overseas, you got blackout drunk and drove on the highway at 120 miles per hour like you had a death wish. You totaled the front of your car.” “Later when you woke up, to get revenge on Vivienne, you turned around and married Lucia. Lucia’s pathetic enough. She’s just Vivienne’s replacement.” “Lucia can really endure too. These past four years she’s devoted herself completely to taking care of you. She probably still thinks it’s true love.” “Talk about brutal. If she knew her four-year marriage was just a tool you used to provoke Vivienne, that she means less to you than a single tear Vivienne sheds, she’d probably collapse on the spot.” A roaring sound filled my head. The softest part of my heart was being viciously twisted. I stood outside the door, my hands and feet ice cold, even breathing felt painful. So that was it. Before, I thought he was just cold by nature, not good with words. I thought it was because I’d stayed by his bedside for days and nights after his car accident that I’d melted his frozen heart. It turned out it was all for Vivienne. For her, he didn’t even care about his own life. Everything I gave over four years. In others’ eyes, I was just a pathetic woman. So pathetic that in the end, I had nothing. I took out my phone, my fingers trembling as I opened my notes. I took a deep breath, steadied my breathing, and as if nothing was wrong, gently pushed open the door. The laughter in the hospital room stopped abruptly. Everyone in the room looked at me, their expressions incredibly colorful. Grayson looked like he’d seen a ghost, stammering, “When did you get here?” His eyes darted around, afraid I’d heard what they’d just said. I smiled. “Just now. What were you all talking about? Sounded lively.” Hearing this, everyone visibly relaxed. They exchanged glances. Grayson smoothed things over. “Nothing much. We were criticizing Holden for being too impulsive. Since you’re here now, we won’t disturb you.” Another person said, “We were just chatting casually, nothing more. Don’t take it to heart.” With that, the group quickly left.

Lucia’s POV Only Holden and I remained in the hospital room. I walked toward the bed. Holden was leaning against the headboard, his hand wrapped in thick bandages particularly conspicuous. Seeing me approach, he instinctively adjusted his position, displaying the injury more prominently. He seemed almost like he was acting cute with me, struggling to lift his hand as he said, “Lucia, it hurts a bit.” In the past, I would have already had tears in my eyes. I would have felt more distress for his hand than he felt for himself. But I just stopped at the foot of his bed and glanced indifferently at that hand. “What did the doctor say?” I asked. Holden froze. He frowned, seeming very dissatisfied with my reaction, his tone growing heavy. “Five stitches. The tendon almost severed.” I nodded. “Then rest up properly.” After saying that, I had nothing more to add. Holden’s expression grew visibly darker. He stared at me, anger creeping into his voice. “My hand was almost ruined, and this is your reaction?” “What else?” I looked at him, finding it amusing. “Do you want me to cry for you? Or go to church and pray for you?” Holden was momentarily speechless, then let out a cold laugh. “I know what you’re mad about. It’s because I got injured saving Vivienne, isn’t it?” “Lucia, can you not be so narrow-minded? Vivienne was surrounded by creeps. The situation was urgent. What was I supposed to do, just ignore it?” “Can you be a little more generous and stop obsessing over these little things?” In the past when I heard this kind of talk, I would rush to explain myself. But now, I just felt tired. “I’m not bothered at all. I think your actions were great.” “Besides, who you choose to save is your freedom. If you get hurt, you’re the one in pain. I can’t feel it for you, can I?” Holden was stunned. I continued, “If you’re still in pain, call a doctor. I’m not a doctor. I can’t make it stop hurting.” He opened his mouth, his eyes full of disbelief. He’d never seen me like this before. His reaction suggested he’d been expecting me to fuss over him anxiously like I used to. But he didn’t like me that way. After all, just last year, he got his hand caught in a door blown by the wind. I was terrified and insisted on dragging him to the hospital for a checkup. He shook off my hand, looking completely impatient. “Can you not make such a big deal out of everything? Does this little injury really warrant this? Going to the hospital would just be embarrassing.” Snapping back to the present, the hospital room door was pushed open. Vivienne came in with red-rimmed eyes, carrying a takeout container. As soon as Vivienne entered, she placed the thermos by the bedside and threw herself at Holden. “Holden! This is all my fault! If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt…” Her voice choked with emotion, crying like a pear blossom in the rain. Holden’s uninjured hand wrapped around her waist. Gently patting Vivienne’s back, “I chose to help you. It has nothing to do with you. Don’t blame yourself for everything.” Vivienne carefully picked up his injured hand and gently blew on it. “Does it hurt? What did the doctor say? Will it affect your ability to draw designs in the future?” Holden’s gaze was indulgent. “This little injury will heal with some rest.” The two clung tightly to each other, gazing deeply into each other’s eyes. As if in that moment, the world contained only these two lovers. And I stood to the side, practically like the other woman. Only then did Vivienne notice there was someone else in the room. She withdrew from Holden’s embrace, looking at me apologetically. “Lucia, I was just so worried about Holden. I couldn’t sleep at home at all, so I bought some soup and brought it over.” As she spoke, she opened the takeout container. The aroma of chicken soup wafted out. “Holden loves this place’s soup the most.” Vivienne ladled out a bowl and held it to Holden’s lips. Holden noticed I was standing nearby. Flustered, he pushed away Vivienne’s soup, his tone a bit awkward. “This soup is too rich. I’m not used to it.” Then he looked at me. “Lucia, I want to eat your cooking.” His tastes were quite particular, and his appetite wasn’t great. To get him to eat more, I used to buy quality ingredients and spend three or four hours in the kitchen. If there was anything about me he was satisfied with, it was probably only that I could make good soup. Vivienne’s expression stiffened uncontrollably. He looked at me, his tone softening a bit. “I don’t eat outside food. This place’s taste isn’t authentic either.” He paused, then added, “Yours is just right.” I checked the time on my phone. It was already 3:30 AM. I had an important project meeting first thing in the morning. This place was still some distance from the office. If I went back now, I could barely get a few hours of sleep. Now I was unwilling to sacrifice my sleep time for Holden. “I don’t have time to cook. Miss Vivienne already brought soup. Don’t let her kindness go to waste.” “I have a meeting tomorrow. You rest up here. I’m leaving.” I put away my phone and turned to leave. “Stop.” Seeing I was really leaving, Holden called out anxiously. Then his slightly suspicious gaze swept across my face, as if confirming something. “You’re not angry? Why have you been so generous lately?” “Usually you cry and make scenes. Why are you so calm now?” I smiled and asked him back, “Isn’t this better?” He was rendered speechless, his expression unpleasant, though he said nothing. Yes, I wasn’t this generous before. I loved him so pathetically. At the slightest disturbance, I’d act like a shrew. Never again. Someone I don’t love can’t stir up waves in my heart anymore.

Lucia’s POV After leaving the hospital, I went straight back to the office. After the morning meeting, I received another assignment for an out-of-town business trip. This time, I still didn’t notify Holden. I worked around the clock at the project site for a week, barely touching the ground. During that time, Holden sent me a few texts asking when I’d come back to cook and where I was. I didn’t reply to any of them. Not until the day I was heading back. I was waiting for my flight at the gate. Bored, I scrolled through Ins. The first post was from Vivienne. The image was a mirror selfie. In the photo, Vivienne wore an extremely thin lace dress, almost transparent. Holden stood behind her, holding a measuring tape, concentrating on measuring her waist. Their posture was suggestive, looking almost like he was embracing her from behind. The caption read: “Holden’s hand just recovered and he can’t wait to take my measurements. Is this what it means to be someone’s exclusive muse?” The comments below were full of envy, all praising how perfect they looked together, with some even asking when they’d get married. Holden had replied with a heart emoji. Looking at this photo, I just found it funny. In the past, seeing something like this would have made me shake with anger. I’d screenshot it and send it to Holden demanding an explanation. But now, I just thought the dress cut made her hips look wide. My finger tapped the screen. I casually liked the Ins post. Then I closed my phone and boarded the plane to sleep. The plane landed in the evening. As soon as I turned on my phone, Holden’s call came through. I answered, and before I could speak, his voice came through suppressing rage. “Lucia, what’s the meaning of that like?” “What meaning?” I dragged my suitcase out while asking carelessly. “Vivienne’s Ins post!” Holden’s tone was agitated. “Did you do it on purpose? Liking it to pretend you don’t care when you’re actually angry inside? Using this method to get my attention?” I paused, almost laughing in exasperation. This man’s self-confidence was truly in his bones. “You’re overthinking.” I said flatly. “The photo was nice, the dress was good, so I casually liked it. What, do you want to control other people’s freedom to like posts too?” Silence on the other end for a few seconds. “Where are you?” He changed the subject, his tone slightly softer. “My hand is healed. I want soup tonight. When are you coming back?” Soup again. Did he think that as long as he asked, I had to make it for him? “I’m at the airport. Just got back from a business trip.” “Business trip?” Holden’s voice rose sharply. “You went on another business trip? Where? With whom? Why didn’t you report it?” I frowned and held the phone away a bit. “Holden, remember when we got back together we agreed not to interfere with each other? I’m very busy. I don’t have time to report my itinerary to you.” “If you’re that bored, go take measurements with Vivienne. Don’t bother me.” With that, I hung up directly. I got home late at night. As soon as I entered, the house was dark with no lights on. I’d just changed my shoes when someone grabbed me from behind. My nose filled with a strong smell of tobacco. I frowned. I hated the smell of smoke. Holden used to go to the balcony to smoke for my sake, or let the smell dissipate before coming inside. But now, he reeked of smoke. “Lucia…” He buried his head in the crook of my neck, his voice muffled. “You’re finally back. I missed you.” As he spoke, he turned my body around and lowered his head to kiss me. His movements were urgent and rough. I felt nauseated and shoved him away hard. “Click.” I turned on the entryway light. The sudden brightness made Holden squint. He looked at me, his face dark, his eyes carrying both shock at being pushed away and anger. “Lucia, what’s your problem?” He wiped his lips, dissatisfied. “We’re husband and wife. Being intimate is normal. Why are you so resistant?” I looked at him coldly. “Holden, go shower. You reek of smoke and that cheap perfume.” “It’s disgusting.”

Lucia’s POV After that day, Holden stopped looking for me. Probably felt his ego was bruised. But I could still keep tabs on his activities. Because entertainment news was full of him and Vivienne. Holden attended Fashion Week with Vivienne in a high-profile manner, the two walking the red carpet hand in hand, being called the fashion world’s best couple. The young women at the office were all discussing it. “Wow, Mr. Prescott and the goddess are such a perfect match!” “I heard they grew up together. This is like a novel come to life!” “Vivienne must be that legendary secret ex-wife. Now they’re back together. So sweet!” Listening to these discussions, I focused on revising my design drafts. At lunch, I’d just taken a bite of salad when my stomach churned violently. I rushed to the restroom and dry-heaved for a long time without vomiting anything. The familiar feeling made my heart sink. That afternoon, I took leave and went to the hospital. Getting the test results, I looked at the confirmed pregnancy and felt no surprise whatsoever. Just a bit ironic. Calculating the time, it must have been that night before Vivienne returned to the country. That day Holden had been drinking. In the heat of the moment, he whispered in my ear, “Lucia, let’s have a baby. I want a child that belongs to us.” I didn’t respond then because I didn’t believe him. I knew these were just arousing words he said in bed. Just like three years ago. Back then, I got pregnant for the first time. I was ecstatic, taking the pregnancy test results home to surprise him. But Holden was working on a design. Seeing the test results, his brows furrowed tightly. He said coldly, “I’m not ready for a child. Get rid of it. A baby will interfere with my creative process.” I cried and begged him to keep the child. He stormed out in frustration, dragging his suitcase and flying abroad. That night, I slipped in the bathroom and started bleeding. I was in agony and called him for help. But Vivienne answered the phone. Before I could speak, Holden’s voice came through, impatient. “Lucia, you’re just trying tricks to keep the baby, aren’t you? I made myself very clear. This child comes at a bad time. Stop calling me. I’m very busy right now!” Then the call was disconnected. He said he was busy. I found out later that night he was busy keeping the newly heartbroken Vivienne company. Later it was a neighbor who heard the commotion and sent me to the hospital. The baby wasn’t saved. I stayed in the hospital for half a month. Holden never came once. Snapping back to reality, I crumpled the test results in my hand and tossed them in the trash. This time, I didn’t plan to tell him. This child was just an accident. Since I’d decided to leave, there was no need to keep this burden. Thinking this, I actually missed a step going downstairs. My stomach hit first, and there was blood everywhere beneath me. This child still wasn’t meant to be. The doctor told me I’d need to come back to the hospital in a few days for surgery to prevent complications from the incomplete miscarriage. After all this, I sent my supervisor Mr. Vance a message requesting two weeks off. Mr. Vance asked if something was wrong and whether I needed help. I just said I was handling some private matters. I went home. I wanted to get some clothes to change into and bring my mother’s veil with me. It was the dowry my mother left me on her deathbed, and the only thing I planned to take with me when I left. As soon as I pushed open the door, the living room lights were glaring. I froze in the entryway. In the center of the living room, Vivienne stood completely naked except for a thin white veil draped over her, posing in front of Holden. Holden held a paintbrush, his expression focused. Hearing the door open, both turned their heads simultaneously. Vivienne cried out and immediately threw herself into Holden’s arms as if she’d suffered some great injustice. “Oh! Why is Lucia back!” Holden reacted extremely quickly, grabbing his suit jacket and wrapping her up tightly. He frowned at me, his eyes full of displeasure at being interrupted. “Why didn’t you make a sound when you came back? Don’t you know to knock?” Vivienne peeked out from his embrace, her cheeks flushed, her voice coy. “Lucia, don’t misunderstand. I’m just helping Holden find creative inspiration. The human body itself is art…” My stomach churned again. So-called art required stripping naked and parading in front of him? I said nothing and walked straight past them toward the bedroom. “Lucia!” Holden called out behind me. “What’s with that expression? Is art that dirty in your eyes?” I ignored him and entered the bedroom, rummaging through drawers and cabinets. My mother’s veil had always been kept in a box at the bottom of the closet. I remembered very clearly. But it wasn’t there. The box was empty. My heart skipped a beat. I turned and rushed out of the bedroom. “Where’s my veil?” I stared at Holden. Before Holden could answer, Vivienne suddenly raised her hand timidly from behind him. “Lucia… are you talking about this veil?”She was holding a ball of white lace in her hand. It was the veil my mother had left me. At that moment, that veil was casually wrapped around her wrist, with part of it even dragging on the floor. My mind went blank with a roar. “Give it to me.” I held out my hand to her, my voice shaking. “That’s mine.” Vivienne looked utterly innocent. “I saw it in the closet and thought it looked pretty, so I took it out to try on. I’ll give it back to you right now.” As she spoke, she held the veil out to me. Just as I reached to take it. Vivienne’s fingers suddenly hooked onto a piece of lace edging and yanked hard. The lace veil tore with a huge gash. Vivienne cried out, covering her mouth. “Oh! I’m so sorry, Lucia! I didn’t mean to! Why is this veil such poor quality? It broke with just one touch…” She was saying sorry, but her eyes were full of provocation. In that moment, all my rationality snapped. I rushed over and shoved her aside, trembling as I picked up the veil from the floor. Vivienne fell to the ground with the momentum, crying with tears streaming down her face. “Holden! That hurt… Why did Lucia push me…” Holden’s face was dark. He strode over, helped Vivienne up, then roughly shoved me. “Lucia! What the hell is wrong with you?” He pointed at the torn fabric in my hands, furious. “It’s so old and you still treasure it like that? If it’s ruined, I’ll buy you a new one. Was it really necessary to push someone?” I touched it, my heart feeling like something was squeezing it tight, unable to breathe from the pain. I looked up, staring hard at Holden. “You know.” My voice was hoarse. “This is something my mom left me. I’ve told you many times how important it is to me.” Holden froze for a moment, as if remembering something, a flash of discomfort in his eyes. But he quickly avoided my gaze, turning to check Vivienne’s knee. “That’s still no reason to push someone. Vivienne is a guest, and she came here to help me.” He looked at me coldly. “You’re so emotionally unstable. Calm down. Don’t act crazy at home. Vivienne doesn’t want to see you.” I looked at him. This man I’d loved for seven years. The last trace of reluctance in my heart was finally extinguished. I folded the veil and put it in my bag. “Fine.” I looked at him, my tone terrifyingly calm. “Holden, let’s break up.” Holden’s hand, which had been rubbing Vivienne’s knee, paused. He had his back to me and didn’t even turn around, his tone full of mockery. “Lucia, you said it. If you’ve got the guts to leave, don’t come back.” He still thought I was throwing a tantrum like before. Every time we fought and talked about breaking up, I was the one who eventually came crawling back to apologize. The one who’s favored always acts without fear. I didn’t say anything more. I turned around, took off the spare key, and placed it on the shoe cabinet. I pushed open the door and the night wind rushed in. Before leaving, I looked back one more time. On the easel in the living room sat an unfinished design sketch. The girl in the drawing wore a gorgeous wedding dress with a platinum necklace around her neck. That was something Holden had specially custom-made for Vivienne. The one around my neck was just a freebie that came with buying a necklace. The drawing wasn’t finished. The girl’s face was blank. But I knew it wasn’t me. I closed the door, shutting those four absurd years behind me. Then I took out my phone and deducted the last remaining 10 points from my notes. Zero points, Holden. There’s nothing left between us.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “382323”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

He was the son of my late friend. I’m no saint. I only took him in because he looked pitiful, deciding to feed him and raise him on a whim. I never expected that the little “stray dog,” once all grown up, would turn into a “wolf.” A “wolf” with his sights set entirely on me. 1. I attended a friend’s funeral, but I ended up bringing her son home. I had intended to leave right after the burial service, but I paused by a tree, watching the boy surrounded by a crowd of people. I listened for a while. Those people were definitely scheming, trying to get their hands on the house and the money. They made a big show of saying they would raise him until he was an adult, their tone implying they were doing him a massive favor. But they clearly had no intention of giving him a single cent of his mother’s inheritance. I turned to look at the photo of the gentle woman smiling on the headstone and thought with a scoff: “You soft-hearted fool. I told you your relatives couldn’t be trusted, but you wouldn’t listen! Now they’re bullying your orphaned son.” But I didn’t plan on stepping in to help him. I owed his mother a favor, not him. I’m no saint. I was just curious to see what he would do. Would he cry and beg that pack of wolves? But he just stood there, his head bowed, without saying a word. Boring. I dusted off my hands, ready to go home. Suddenly, he raised his head and looked straight at me. His eyes were red, filled with a ragged, defensive stubbornness. In that moment, it was as if I saw my younger self from years ago—just like that, like a stray dog ready to bite. We locked eyes. Neither of us looked away. “Hey, want to come live with me?” I raised an eyebrow and smiled at him. The group of aggressive relatives finally noticed me standing there. A flash of awkwardness crossed their faces, followed immediately by anger. “This is family business!” I ignored them, swaying my hips as I walked up to the boy, dropping my smile. “I was a friend of your mother’s. I owe her a favor, so I can take you in, but…” I swept my gaze over the rest of the people there, enunciating every word clearly: “If they steal your inheritance, once you’re older and have the means, you’ll have to get it back yourself. I won’t help you.” It was as if I had ripped off their masks. The crowd started yelling, accusing me of talking nonsense. I just kept my eyes on the boy. “Of course, you can choose to go with them. It’s your choice.” In the end, he came home with me. After settling him into the guest room, a wave of discomfort washed over me—the feeling of a stranger invading my personal space. I shouldn’t have brought him back. Feeling a bit irritated, I retreated to my home office, using my design sketches to calm my nerves. 2. The next day, I was woken up by text messages from a client. I had finished revising the designs last night and sent them straight over. This was the first job I had taken since starting my own design studio. I say “studio,” but it was really just me and my best friend, Harper. The client was notoriously difficult to please—the kind who asks for “a vibrant shade of black.” Thankfully, they were finally satisfied with last night’s revisions. Rubbing my stiff neck, I walked out of the office. I caught a glimpse of a silent figure sitting at the dining table and nearly jumped out of my skin. I was genuinely annoyed. “Why are you just sitting there without making a sound!” He froze for a second, as if startled by my sudden morning crankiness. Then, trying to act calm, he pushed a piece of paper across the table toward me. “I apologize. I’ll be more mindful in the future. I drafted this agreement. You can take a look.” Utterly confused, I walked over, sat across from him, picked it up, and almost laughed out loud. Party A: [Left Blank] Party B: Liam. The gist of the agreement was that Party B would borrow funds for all living expenses while staying at Party A’s house, as well as high school tuition. The total amount, plus interest, would be repaid in full one year after Party B graduated from college. I peeked at him over the top of the paper, feeling a sudden urge to tease him. “How are you so sure you can pay it all back one year after college? Raising a kid is expensive nowadays. Also, why does it only cover high school? Don’t I have to pay for your college tuition and living expenses too?” Liam’s face turned red, and he stammered slightly, “I-I can add a clause to the agreement. If I don’t pay it back on time, the interest doubles.” He then hastily tried to explain, “I will definitely pay you back, I promise. My grades are pretty good, I can apply for scholarships for college, and I can work part-time on weekends and holidays during high school to cover my college expenses. I can also…” “Stop.” The more I listened, the more ridiculous it sounded. It wasn’t like I couldn’t afford to raise him. Thinking about him taking on part-time jobs… there are so many shady employers out there who love exploiting student workers, finding every excuse to dock their pay. I had been through it. He didn’t need to go through it too. “Just focus on your studies. Don’t even think about part-time jobs. I have money, I can afford to support you. There’s no need to sign this agreement; just consider it my way of repaying your mother.” I put the agreement down on the table and got up to go wash my face. “If you don’t sign it, I won’t stay here.” So annoying. Why is he being so dramatic? I really wanted to yell at him. But when I saw the earnestness and stubbornness in his eyes, and looked at the boy’s straight back in the morning light… I suddenly realized that this wasn’t just a promissory note; it was the last shred of pride for a “stray dog” with a heavy heart. I sat back down, picked up a pen, and swiftly signed my name in the Party A slot: Summer. Seeing the look of relief wash over his face, I found it somewhat amusing. “Go get cleaned up, we’ll go out for breakfast, and then to Target to buy your things. If I remember correctly, school starts in two weeks, right? Whatever you need, make a list, and we’ll buy it all at once.” I glanced at him. “I’m guessing your ungrateful relatives have already moved into your house. Before we go to Target, I’ll drop you off there so you can grab anything you can’t bear to leave behind. From now on, just call me Sum…” I paused, feeling a bit awkward. Given our age difference and relationship, calling me “Auntie” made me sound too old, but calling me “Sister” felt weird too. “Summer. I can cook, we don’t need to go out to eat.” With that, he got up and walked toward the refrigerator in the kitchen. Fine, just using my first name works too. But a second later, he turned to look at me, unable to hide his shock. 3. I had forgotten. The only thing in my fridge besides alcohol… was more alcohol. In the end, we still went out for breakfast, and then drove back to his old house. I didn’t go upstairs. He came down less than half an hour later, carrying only a photo of his mother, some books, and some clothes. He didn’t look well, and his eyes were a bit red. Those relatives probably hadn’t said anything nice, but I didn’t comfort him. It wasn’t my obligation to soothe his emotions. Some things you just have to endure on your own. We drove to Target. I let him pick out what he needed while I waited at the checkout. Harper called. As soon as I answered, I frowned and held the phone away from my ear. “Babe! I need comforting!” She was wailing dramatically on the other end. I sighed helplessly. “My friend, please control your volume, or I’m going to sue you for hearing damage. Tell me, what is it this time?” “It’s my dad again! He tricked me into another blind date! I just had a huge fight with him. Babe, I’m coming to sleep at your place tonight.” She pretended to sob. “I don’t have room. Someone’s in the guest room.” “What?! Summer, are you hiding a secret lover?” Her imagination was running wild. With a slight headache, I briefly explained the situation to her. She sighed in amazement and insisted on treating Liam to hot pot at a local place that afternoon, saying she felt bad for him and he needed a good meal. When Liam came out, he hadn’t bought many personal items, but he had a whole cart full of groceries. I looked at him in confusion. He explained in a low voice, “I’ll cook from now on. Eating out is a waste of money, and it’s not as healthy.” How domestic, a highly inappropriate thought popped into my head. The cashier gave us a very complicated look. Great, she’s misunderstanding the situation. I kept a straight face, paid the bill, and once we were in the car, I told Liam about Harper treating him to hot pot. He didn’t have any objections, just said that sounded good. On the way to the restaurant, I silently prayed: Please, Harper, try to keep a filter on your mouth later. 4. As soon as we walked into the hot pot place, I saw Harper waving frantically at us, her eyes lighting up when she saw Liam. Resigned, I led Liam over and introduced them. “Liam, this is Auntie Harper.” The woman across from me immediately got defensive. “What Auntie? Don’t listen to her nonsense. Liam, right? I’m your big sister Harper.” Liam obliged and called her “Sister Harper,” after which she sent him off to get dipping sauces. I knew she had something she wanted to say to me privately. Harper dropped her smile, looking deeply pained. “Summer, tell me the truth. Did you take one look at Liam’s face and decide to play some sort of grooming game? He’s underage!” I looked at her like she was an idiot, picked up my water glass, and didn’t reply. She continued her guessing game weakly, “Don’t tell me you want to… be his mom?” I choked, nearly spitting out my water. Harper hurriedly handed me a napkin. “Hey, I’m just throwing ideas out there! You hate drama more than anything. Don’t tell me it’s about repaying a debt of gratitude. I know you. You always keep things strictly business. You wouldn’t raise her son just because his mother helped you back then.” She was right. I wouldn’t. So, why did I take him in on a whim? Was it because, during that stare-down at the cemetery, I saw my past self in him? I didn’t know. Liam came back with the sauces, and Harper and I appropriately dropped the subject. During the hot pot meal, with Harper there, there was never a dull moment. She actually managed to make Liam blush several times. Before we left, as we stood by the car, Harper pulled me aside. She looked at Liam in the passenger seat and whispered, “I don’t know why you took him in, and if you don’t want to tell me, I won’t ask. Raising a kid isn’t easy. If you ever need anything, just say the word. Don’t try to shoulder it all yourself. You hear me?” I reached out, linked my arm through hers, and leaned close to her ear, drawing out my words, “I knowww~ You worry too much, Auntie Harper~” She playfully smacked the back of my hand in annoyance and let me go. Before heading home, we went to IKEA to order a wardrobe, desk, and chair to be delivered for the guest room. From now on, that would be his room. After getting everything arranged at home, I went back to my bedroom to catch up on sleep, leaving Liam to sort himself out. That evening, I was woken up by the smell of food. Rubbing my eyes, I groggily walked into the living room. Under the warm lighting, Liam was bringing plates out from the kitchen one by one. I looked at the table full of food, then looked up at him in confusion: Did I bring home a personal chef? Liam looked a bit embarrassed. “I didn’t know what you liked to eat, so I made a few different things. I accidentally made too much, sorry.” I waved my hand to show it was fine and sat down at the dining table, still a bit dazed. So this is what it feels like to have someone cook for you at home? In the days that followed, there wasn’t much interaction between Liam and me. Most of the time, I was holed up in my office drawing, occasionally going to the studio to meet clients with Harper. Since Liam arrived, the house was always spotless, and a few small potted plants had appeared on the balcony. Two weeks later, it was time for Liam to start school. It was only when I dropped him off for registration that I learned from his teacher he had ranked first in his entire school on his final exams last semester. This was what he meant by “grades are pretty good”? I turned to look at the boy, noting the tips of his ears turning red and his back subtly straightening a bit more. I chuckled inwardly; he was a bit like a cat. Since the school was close to home, after asking for his preference, we decided he would commute. The next day, we went back to the store to buy him a bicycle. With that, he officially started his junior year of high school, and I poured all my energy into the studio. Before I knew it, it was the Thanksgiving long weekend. 5. I didn’t expect to suddenly get sick on the first day of the holiday. It was probably because I had been so stressed with the studio recently, and the sudden relaxation caused my body to crash. Liam’s school had organized a study camp, so he left early in the morning and wasn’t going to be home for the entire break. I found some medicine in the living room cabinet, swallowed it with cold water, and groggily went back to my room to sleep. When I woke up again, I was parched. I could faintly hear the sound of someone rummaging through things in the living room. Forcing myself up, I grabbed a heavy book and tiptoed toward the living room. I locked eyes with the person in the living room and awkwardly lowered the book. Liam? Why was he back? Before I could ask, Liam, lips pressed in a tight line, walked over to me holding a thermometer gun. Before I could react, I stared blankly as he took my temperature. “You have a fever.” He looked at the number on the screen, his face darkening. “Yeah.” No wonder my whole body ached. “Why are you back?” Liam turned to put the thermometer back in the drawer, then picked up the medicine I had left on the table. “I came back to get a book I forgot. I saw the medicine on the table and guessed you were sick, so I asked the teacher for leave. I’m not going to the camp.” I frowned. “I can take care of myself. Go back to your camp.” He picked up the water glass I had used earlier and looked at me. “Oh, so drinking cold water and taking random medicine is how you take care of yourself?” I was momentarily speechless. I had the bizarre feeling that he was the parent here. “We’re out of fever reducers. I’m going out to buy some. I boiled some water in the kitchen; drink some of that first.” With that, he grabbed his keys and left. I sat on the sofa, dazed. In the past, I had gone to the hospital for an emergency appendectomy all by myself. When Harper found out afterward, she was teary-eyed and accused me of not treating her like a real friend. That wasn’t true. I just wasn’t used to depending on others. Subconsciously, I didn’t want to build close relationships with anyone. The sound of the front door opening pulled me out of my chaotic thoughts. Liam walked in, breathing heavily, a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead. He had run all the way back. He went to the kitchen, poured a fresh cup of hot water, then squatted in front of me, taking out the medicine and carefully reading the instructions. I watched him do all this with a blank expression. The feeling of being taken care of was… entirely unfamiliar to me. Liam didn’t end up going back to the study camp. Under his supervision, I recovered quickly. I had suggested he use the holiday to go hang out with friends. But he just shook his head and chose to stay home with me. Sometimes, we would go out together to buy groceries. Sometimes, we would draw the curtains during the day and curl up in the living room to watch an old movie. Sometimes, after dinner, we would go for a walk in the neighborhood park. But we still didn’t talk much. On the last day of the break, Harper showed up at my door, looking despondent, carrying a bag of groceries. The first thing she said to me was, “Babe, that woman is back.” 6. The woman Harper was referring to was Autumn, our college classmate. Although Harper wouldn’t admit it, her rejection of blind dates all these years was largely because of Autumn. As an observer, I understood their entanglement, but it wasn’t my place to say anything. Neither Harper nor I were great cooks, so Liam eventually took the groceries into the kitchen. Harper followed him, familiar with the layout, and opened the fridge looking for alcohol. Finding only vegetables, she turned to me in the living room. “Babe, where’s your stash?” Liam stepped around her, went to the liquor cabinet in the dining room, handed her a low-ABV bottle, and said quietly, “She just recovered from being sick. She shouldn’t drink.” My heart skipped a beat, and I looked nervously at Harper. Sure enough, the next second, Harper’s eyes were red, and she was accusing me of never telling her when I was sick. I had to meekly comfort her, insisting it was just a common cold and nothing major. Glancing at the busy figure in the kitchen, I had a sneaking suspicion Liam did that on purpose. I had to change the subject. “Did Autumn come looking for you?” Harper took a sip of her drink, looking defeated. “Yeah. She called and said she wants to get back together.” She slammed her glass down on the coffee table, agitated. “Who does she think she is? Why should I wait around for her? There’s a whole line of young, hot guys waiting for my attention.” Watching her pretend to be unbothered, I reached out my hand. “Give me your phone. I’ll call her and tell her to never bother you again.” Harper froze for a second, then tucked her phone against her chest like a little hamster, looking slightly wronged. “What are you doing! You’re making fun of me too.” I sighed. “I’m telling you to face your true feelings.” “Then she shouldn’t have just left for Europe for all those years without a word, and then come back with a breezy ‘let’s get back together,’ acting like the years we were apart didn’t exist.” Harper kept her head down, her voice choked with emotion. I moved over and pulled her into a hug. “Okay, then make her work for it.” By the time Liam brought out dinner, Harper had already finished a bottle of wine. At the dinner table, she insisted on drinking with Liam. I smiled helplessly. “He’s just a kid, he shouldn’t be drinking.” Harper didn’t care. “Liam’s almost an adult. A little alcohol won’t hurt. Come on, Summer, don’t be such a stick in the mud, okay?” And then I watched helplessly as Liam quietly slid his glass over. Fine. I give up. The meal lasted a long time. Even though Harper was laughing and joking the whole time, I knew she was really hurting inside. I knew how much she cared about Autumn, and how deeply Autumn’s departure had hurt her. All these years, she had been waiting for her. By the end of the night, Liam was a bit tipsy, and Harper suddenly turned into a messy drunk, demanding that Autumn come pick her up. Facing these two—one big, one small—drunks, my temples throbbed. I helped Liam to his room first. Before lying down, he kept mumbling that I shouldn’t clean up the dishes; he would do it in the morning. I chuckled, thinking his personality was like a little old man’s. I went back to the living room, squatted in front of Harper, and took her hand. “Are you absolutely sure you want to call her right now? I know you’re not actually drunk.” Harper went quiet. After a long while, she spoke. “I miss her a lot.” I patted her head and said softly, “Okay, I know.” I took her phone, called Autumn, and gave her my address. Then, I waited with Harper. About half an hour later, the doorbell rang. Harper, who had been slumped over, instantly sat up straight, chugged another glass of wine, and slumped over again. I shook my head helplessly and went to open the door. The woman standing outside still had that same aloof aura, perhaps even stronger after all these years, but the anxiety in her eyes was unmistakable. We nodded at each other, and I stepped aside to let her in. She walked quickly toward Harper, gathered her in her arms, and called her name softly. The aloofness vanished; that gentleness was reserved exclusively for Harper. I stood by the entryway, watching them. In a daze, it felt like we were back in college. Back then, Harper would often pretend to be drunk, and every time she made me call Autumn to come get her. The aloof girl would always rush over, carefully coaxing the “drunk” Harper. The scene from my memory overlapped with the one in front of me. It felt like nothing had changed. Autumn half-carried, half-supported Harper toward the door. I looked at Harper, who was burying her face in Autumn’s neck, pretending to be out of it. I spoke up suddenly. “Autumn, Harper is my best friend. This is the last time I’m helping you.” I didn’t need to say more; both she and Harper understood. Autumn turned around and looked at me earnestly. “Thank you.” I waved a hand and closed the door. 7. The next day, I went to the studio. Looking at Harper, who arrived late, sporting a hickey on her neck. I had a smile in my eyes, but I didn’t say a word. Harper, completely giving herself away, muttered, “I haven’t said yes yet.” But we both knew it was only a matter of time. Her relationship with Autumn was like playing a game of tug-of-war where the ending was already written. To be honest, I envied Harper’s courage. I envied her ability to place her heart in someone else’s hands. Unlike me… it felt like I had lost the ability to love anyone. Thanks to our hard work, the studio gradually got on track. I found myself with a lot of free time. Sometimes I’d go with Liam to the subway station when he went to school. Watching the people coming and going on the platform, I’d guess what they were thinking. Time for me felt both stagnant and accelerated. Before I knew it, it was New Year’s Eve. I received an unexpected phone call. I was at the grocery store buying flour when the phone rang. Liam had casually found out from Harper that I loved crispy fried pork. He had secretly learned how to make it. He planned to show off his skills tonight, but we were out of flour, and he was busy watching soup simmer on the stove. He couldn’t leave, so he “dispatched” me to buy it. The man on the other end of the line was my father. I had no idea how he got my number. When I answered, he only said one sentence: “Your stepmother was cleaning the room and found a letter your mother left for you. Come get it yourself.” Then, he hung up. The “stepmother” he mentioned was only a decade older than me. I sent Liam a text, and ultimately, I drove back to that “home.” 8. It was that woman who opened the door for me. “The letter.” I stayed standing in the doorway, with no intention of going inside. My father walked over from the living room, his tone unfriendly. “Don’t you know how to greet people?” I fought the urge to leave immediately and spoke again. “The letter!” The woman, perhaps worried we’d start fighting, hurried back to the living room. When she reappeared, she was holding an envelope, a fawning look in her eyes. She tested the waters: “Why don’t you stay for dinner?” My patience exhausted, I snatched the letter from her hand and turned to leave. Behind me, I heard my father’s dissatisfied reprimand: “Why did you ask her to stay? As far as I’m concerned, I don’t have a daughter!” I didn’t stop walking until I was back in my car. Only then did I realize the hand holding the letter was trembling slightly. Opening the letter felt like it was happening in slow motion. Until the first line of familiar handwriting caught my eye: My dearest Summer, do not carry the burden of the issues between your father and me. I abruptly folded the letter, losing the courage to read any further. I suddenly felt the urge to laugh, and then I couldn’t stop myself from laughing out loud. My mother was a gentle woman who loved to read. My father was a businessman who only knew how to make money. Back then, my father fell in love with my mother at first sight and pursued her relentlessly, but she was never moved. However, my father managed to persuade my grandmother, and under her “coercion,” my mother eventually married him. At first, my father was incredibly good to my mother, and our family had a period of true happiness. But later, my mother’s health began to decline, and my father started having affairs. My mother asked for a divorce, but he refused, so they were locked in a stalemate. Later, as my mother’s illness worsened and she was hospitalized, my father became even more brazen, openly bringing his mistresses into our home. Until the day my mother was critically ill, and I waited alone outside the operating room. With red eyes, I called my father’s phone over and over again. I sent countless texts, begging him to come to the hospital. But my calls and messages vanished into the void, until my phone died and shut off automatically. The light above the operating room went out, and my mother was wheeled out, covered completely in a white sheet. All I could hear was the nurses repeatedly asking me, “Where is your father?” I didn’t say a word. I just stared fixedly in the direction my mother had been taken, my eyes burning. Later, my father finally showed up, sporting hickeys on his neck. It turned out that while my mother was lying on the operating table, he was lying in our bed at home with another woman. I couldn’t understand. He had loved my mother so much; how could his heart change like that? Less than a month after my mother passed away, my father announced he was marrying that woman. I refused and threw a fit, but my father said if I didn’t agree, I could get out. My maternal grandparents had passed away early, so I went to my mother’s other relatives, hoping they would stand up for justice. But they had all been bought off by my father’s money. On the day my father married that woman, I ran away from home. I was 16. Since then, I never went back to that house. To support myself, I worked various odd jobs. A lot of shady employers love hiring minors because they’re cheap and easy to push around. Although I got beaten down by reality during those days, at least I could support myself. Later, I met Liam’s mother. She was a good person. Ignoring my fierce, defensive hostility, she gently but firmly pulled me out of the swamp and sponsored my college education. Liam?! I suddenly snapped out of my memories. Liam was still at home, waiting for me to eat New Year’s Eve dinner. I put the letter away and drove home. Pushing open the door, I locked eyes with Liam, who was standing in the living room under the warm light. He stared into my eyes for a long time, then went into the kitchen to heat up the food. I was thankful he didn’t ask any questions. After dinner, we sat at opposite ends of the sofa, but neither of us turned on the TV to watch the New Year’s countdown. It was too noisy. But doing nothing felt too lonely. So, I told him to put on a random playlist on his phone, and we just sat there, quietly listening to the music. At midnight, fireworks bloomed wildly outside the window. The music app played a song I wasn’t familiar with. A female voice sang: Hey, you must understand People who come will eventually leave The only constant in this world Is that people are fickle Later, Liam told me the song was called “Passing Through the Human World.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “411850”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I had a brief, fleeting romance with my best friend’s younger brother. When we broke up, he asked me, “Were you just playing with me?” “Yes.” Years later, he became incredibly cold, refusing my kisses and dodging my hugs. “What are you doing?” I asked, frustrated. He blew out a ring of smoke, a smirk on his lips. “Playing with you.” 01 I got cheated on. Fuck. Seeing Connor Hayes making out with a freshman girl, my heart was a chaotic mess of emotions. Just a minute ago, we were texting each other “goodnight.” The next minute, I found him in the booth next to mine, kissing some undergrad like his life depended on it. I watched the whole thing. I was practically eating popcorn, enjoying the show. I almost wanted to leave a Yelp review. When Connor finally noticed me, he shoved the girl away in a panic. The flash of sheer terror in his eyes was priceless. It was incredibly awkward. I walked over, picked up a fruit platter from their table, and offered it to him with a sweet smile. “Want a bite?” Connor blew up. “Are you out of your fucking mind? You’re asking me if I want fruit right now?” “Well, you were kissing for so long. Aren’t your lips dry?” He took a deep breath, trying desperately to suppress his irritation. The freshman girl started fanning the flames. “See, babe? Look at her! She doesn’t even care about you!” Connor snapped at her, “Shut up.” The girl shrank back, terrified. I sighed. Trying to play peacemaker, I said, “Actually, she’s not wrong.” The girl clung to Connor’s arm. “Just let me have him, okay?” Her smug, triumphant face really started to piss me off. This girl’s favorite hobby was acting like a helpless baby. Even though she was only a year younger than me, she was constantly begging Connor to buy her Squishmallows and Jellycat plushies. I had even complained about it to my best friend, Chloe: “Why doesn’t she just walk around with a pacifier?” I raised my glass to her. “He’s all yours.” I turned to leave. Connor grabbed my wrist, his voice suddenly pleading. “I don’t want to break up. Forgive me, just this once.” I laughed. “Sure. Go kneel outside the campus gates for a whole day, and I’ll forgive you.” His face froze. Finally, he shoved his hands into his pockets, his eyes turning ice-cold. “Hazel! If you weren’t so damn frigid, do you think I would have looked for someone else? You won’t let me kiss you, you won’t let me touch you. Our relationship is falling apart—isn’t that your fault?” I stared at him. “If you’re walking down the street and a rabid dog bites you, do you blame yourself for being unlikable, or do you blame the dog for being rabid?” I’m not an idiot. Did he really think he could gaslight me? 02 Reeking of alcohol, I showed up at Chloe’s apartment. She was out of town on a business trip, and I really didn’t want to go back to my dorm, so I decided to crash at her place for the night. As soon as I walked in, I stripped off my jacket, leaving me in just a red-and-blue plaid slip dress. Lying in bed, I couldn’t help but overthink. Am I really frigid? Even when Connor held my hand, I just felt irritated and uncomfortable. Suddenly, the sound of running water from the bathroom reached my ears. Someone was here. Was Chloe back early? I walked straight over, needing to wash up anyway. I pushed the door open. Steam billowed out. But the person inside, standing there with only a towel wrapped around his waist, staring at me with dark, indifferent eyes… It was Liam Carter. Chloe’s younger brother. He had grown taller. More mature. His hair was cropped short. The muscles shifting under his skin were captivating, radiating strength. His lips were slightly pink, moistened by the steam. I want to kiss him. That was the only thought in my head. Seeing that I had absolutely no intention of looking away or acting embarrassed, Liam let out a sharp scoff. His tone was dripping with piercing sarcasm. “Want to hook up, Hazel?” I suddenly remembered something Chloe had once said about me. Hazel, you look so gentle and polite on the outside, but deep down, you’re wicked. So, fueled by Liam’s provocation, my rebellious side flared up. “Thanks for the invitation.” Dead silence filled the bathroom. Then, he let out a low laugh. “You’re still as bold as ever, aren’t you?” 03 Liam and I once had a very brief romance. I found out he had feelings for me when he was a senior in high school. At the time, I was a freshman in college, attending a local university with Chloe. That day, I had gotten into a massive fight with my stepdad. My mom was running a high fever, and instead of taking her to the clinic, he went to the local lodge to play poker. I had skipped class to come home, only to find her coughing uncontrollably. Pots and bowls were smashed during our argument, which only ended when my mom begged me to stop. My mom was deeply traditional. She believed men ruled the outside world and women ruled the home. So, she catered to my stepdad’s every whim. She held me back, pleading with me not to fight with him. Furious, I ran out of the house. I ran into Liam in the alleyway. He was wearing a hoodie, a black backpack slung over his shoulder. “Hazel?” he called out. “Liam? What are you doing here?” “Skipping SAT prep.” It was his senior year, and the pressure was on. Liam was brilliant, but his mom still forced him into tutoring. He reached out, his long fingers gently wiping a smear of blood off my cheek. “You’re hurt.” Only then did I notice the cut. A shard of porcelain must have grazed me when I smashed the bowl. His pale fingers were stained with a drop of bright red. I instinctively reached up to wipe it away. He shook his head. “It’s nothing.” Instead, he grabbed my wrist and dragged me toward the nearest clinic. “We need to clean this up, or it’ll scar.” By the time we walked out, the sun was setting. Liam admitted he had ditched his prep class entirely. “I already know all that stuff. I was just too lazy to argue with my mom about it.” I laughed, which tugged at my cut. I hissed in pain. “Genius perks, I guess.” “Does it still hurt?” Before I could answer, he leaned in. His thin lips pressed softly against my cheek. We were so close I could feel his breath. His skin was flawless, his dark eyes earnest and intense. “I like you, Hazel.” But I could see the tips of his ears burning bright red. I thought he was so brave back then. 04 Past memories shattered into fragments in my dreams. I woke up to the morning sunlight streaming into the room. The space next to me was completely cold. Liam was long gone. I sat up and looked around. On the nightstand, there was a stack of cash and a sticky note. It read: Thanks for the warm hospitality. I raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised by how much Liam had changed. The shy boy who used to blush at the slightest tease was now a seasoned player. That stack of cash was glaringly offensive. Clearly, he was used to pulling this kind of stunt. My body was aching, and my phone was dead. Annoyed, I plugged it in and powered it on. Chloe had called me several times. I called her back. “Hey?” Chloe sounded like she was walking, the rumble of her suitcase wheels echoing through the speaker. “Where are you? I’ve been calling you forever!” I ran a hand through my messy hair, mumbling, “I’m at your place. Just woke up.” “It’s noon! Why were you up so late?” I chuckled softly. “Good question.” “I’m almost home. Brought you some cake. Get up and come greet me.” My heart skipped a beat. That fast? I mumbled, “Alright, I’m getting up. How far away are you?” “Ten minutes.” I took a deep breath. I had a few drinks yesterday, my hormones had taken over, and I had spent an incredibly reckless night with Liam. How the hell was I going to explain this to my best friend? What a mess. I quickly got up, changed my clothes, and speed-cleaned the living room. 05 Chloe looked exhausted. As soon as she walked in, she started venting. “You have no idea, the clients on this trip were a nightmare. I’m so jealous of you. I should have just gone to grad school like you did.” “Want some gossip to cheer you up?” I asked. She perked up instantly. “Hit me. What happened?” “I saw Connor making out with a freshman last night.” “No way! The one who’s obsessed with Squishmallows? What is wrong with his eyes!” I nodded in disgust. “Exactly. Honestly, I must have been blind to date him in the first place.” We trashed Connor for a while. Seeing that I wasn’t too heartbroken, Chloe asked, “Where’s my brother?” I froze mid-sip of water. “Huh?” “Didn’t you see him last night? I gave him the passcode to the apartment.” Chloe and I had been joined at the hip since middle school. Sometimes we even brought Liam along on weekends. But she had no idea Liam and I ever had a thing. I remember when Liam and I first got together, he was so frustrated. He said it felt like we were keeping some dirty, underground secret. We dated quietly, and we broke up quietly. It was a secret that only belonged to the two of us. I kept my voice casual. “I saw him, but he went out last night.” Chloe went into her room to change into loungewear. I heard her talking through the door; she was probably on the phone with Liam. “My brother said he was out partying with friends. He just got back. Sounds like a long night.” “Is it his high school friends?” Liam was incredibly popular in high school—good-looking, great personality. “Yeah. He invited us to go to the club with them tonight. You down?” I pressed my lips together. “Sure.” Chloe gave me a wicked grin. “Perfect. Let’s go hit on some younger guys.” I was drinking water and nearly choked, terrified for a second that she knew about me and Liam. I cleared my throat. “Sounds like a plan.” 06 At the club. I finally got a good look at Liam again. He really had grown into a mature, striking man. Broader and more muscular than he was right out of high school. Chloe and the other guys hit the dance floor. Leaving just me and Liam sitting across from each other. His fingers, pale and long, swiped idly across his phone. He looked completely disinterested. He hadn’t glanced at me once. It really seemed like he had completely forgotten about me. Winning him back was going to be tough. I took a sip of my drink, trying to come up with a game plan. Just then, his friend Tyler walked over. Tyler was a good-looking guy, but he had a goofy, over-the-top swagger. He sat down next to Liam, pointing his chin toward a girl across the room. “Liam, check out that older girl. You think I have a shot?” Liam’s dark eyes rippled with amusement. “No chance.” His voice was as calm as if he were discussing the weather. I followed their gaze. It was a gorgeous woman in a black slip dress with dramatic, sultry makeup. Definitely an intimidating, mature vibe. Tyler looked at me. “What do you think, Hazel?” I pretended to think about it, nodding, but I didn’t look at Tyler. I looked straight at Liam. “I think you have a great shot. After all, older women these days… really love younger guys.” I emphasized “younger guys.” Liam caught the hint. He let out a sharp scoff but didn’t say a word. Encouraged, Tyler turned back to Liam. “Bro, have you ever dated someone older?” Liam nodded. “Yeah.” “How was it?” Liam’s eyes swirled with a lazy, mocking amusement. He took a slow sip of his drink and looked me up and down. His voice was a slow drawl, laced with a hint of absurdity. “How was it? “Mind-blowing.” The corners of my lips curled up. As our eyes met, the tension in the air was palpable. Tyler yelled, “Holy shit!” and eagerly jogged off to get the girl’s Instagram. Once he was gone, the atmosphere froze again. Liam stood up and headed toward the restrooms. On the way, several girls asked for his number or snap. He accepted every single one. The boy who used to blush at a single kiss had turned into someone I couldn’t read at all. I waited for him in the hallway outside the restrooms. I pulled a slim cigarette from my purse. Whenever things got complicated, I needed a smoke to calm my nerves. It didn’t take long for him to come out. When he saw me, his pace didn’t slow down. He didn’t even look like he was going to say hello. I stepped in his way, flashing a bright smile, and held out my phone with my Instagram QR code. Acting as playful as I could, I said, “Hey handsome, can I get your Insta?” He laughed. “Sure.” Just like he did with all the other girls. Once the follow was accepted, I pushed my luck, stepping closer. “Going home together tonight?” He took a step back, the corner of his mouth ticking upward. “Get in line. Maybe one day it’ll be your turn to take me home.” 07 I went back to my campus apartment alone. I had to finish my master’s thesis in a few days and had already wasted too much time. In my dreams, the moonlight shattered and filtered through the thin curtains. Liam had confessed his feelings to me on a night just like that. It was right after he graduated high school. His parents asked Chloe and me to take him and his friend Mason on a road trip. Honestly, two teenage boys didn’t need us as chaperones. I only found out later that Liam had specifically begged his parents to make sure we came along. I had never seen him act so manipulative before. At the time, I didn’t really want to go, but Liam tugged at my sleeve. “Come on, Hazel. We haven’t been out of the city in forever. Let’s go.” I raised an eyebrow. “What? Are you scared of the dark?” His ears turned red, and he nodded. “Yeah.” Even though I already had a feeling he liked me, I stubbornly convinced myself he just had a dependency on me because we grew up together. I was practically his older sister. So, I agreed. We drove to Sedona, Arizona. Mason drove most of the way since he had just gotten his license and was eager to use it. It was a popular spot, famous for its red rocks and starry nights. We stayed at a rustic, vintage-style lodge. Mason was exhausted from driving, and Chloe, who hated the sudden drop in temperature at night, curled up in bed and passed out. By evening, only Liam and I were still awake. There were a lot of backpackers and kids who had just graduated high school hanging out in the main lobby. The owner lit a few candles. Everyone sat around sharing stories until late into the night. It was then that Liam, the shy little rabbit, turned into a persistent puppy. He followed me all the way to my room. As I was about to close the door, he stood there, looking at me with innocent eyes. I coughed. “Need something?” He magically produced a mug of warm milk from nowhere. “Do you want some milk before bed, Hazel?” I took it. It was warm. I had no choice but to let him in. I knew he had something to say. So I sat there, sipping the milk slowly. He rested his chin on his hand, just watching me in silence. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. “What exactly are you…” “I like you.” His voice was clear and moving, his confession flowing as naturally as a stream. I couldn’t help but laugh a little. “What do you like about me?” “A lot of things. If you agree to be my girlfriend, I’ll tell you about them, slowly, every day.” It didn’t sound like an empty promise. It sounded incredibly sincere. The night was intoxicating. But late nights are never a good time to make decisions. I smiled and didn’t say anything. Disappointment flickered in Liam’s eyes; he probably thought I was going to reject him. He stood up. “It’s fine. I’ll just take my time and earn it.” Just as his hand grabbed the doorknob, I caught his arm. “Little brother… do you know how to kiss?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “411851”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

On the eve of our wedding, I found a spreadsheet on Colin’s laptop. It was filled with details about the girls he had dated. In my column, it read: [Quiet, obedient, the safe choice for marriage.] While in his first love’s column, it read: [You are a free bird, destined to soar proudly into the distance.] He had told her he wouldn’t marry her. Because his wife had to manage three meals a day, care for him, raise his children, and wait on his overbearing parents hand and foot. He couldn’t bear to put her through that. I didn’t argue, nor did I make a scene. The next day, I went back to the news network. Colin didn’t know that I had a spreadsheet, too. It was an application form to transfer to Africa as a war correspondent. The man I truly loved was still there. I had to go find him. 01 “You want to go back to being a war correspondent?!” A shocked exclamation erupted in the newsroom this morning. I had just handed in my transfer application. “Yes,” I said. “I want a long-term assignment in the Democratic Republic of the Congo.” “Maya…” My station director was speechless for a long time. “You’re an excellent war correspondent. We all saw that three years ago. But you’re right in the middle of preparing for a wedding! Everyone assumes you’re about to go on leave! “Will your fiancé even agree to you going back to such a dangerous place?” I was silent for a fleeting moment. “I’m not getting married.” “What??” Under the director’s shocked gaze, I spoke with firm certainty. “Yes. The wedding is off.” Yesterday, Colin went out to run wedding errands. He asked me to send him the inventory list of things on his computer. I opened the file labeled [Wedding Plan]. But what I found was his relationship record. There were six girls listed. Each entry was a detailed account of their height, appearance, and background. Mine was at the top. [Name: Maya Brooks. [Family: Orphaned. No parents, simple social connections. [Personality: Housewife potential. Quiet and obedient. No ambition. [Remarks: Can manage housework. Good for having kids.] At the bottom, he had highlighted a few words in yellow: [Suitable for marriage.] My heart dropped in an instant. I paused for a few seconds, then continued scrolling. The other girls had similar evaluations. [Extravagant. Not considered.] [Lazy lifestyle. Not considered.] [Has a dependent younger brother. Not considered.] But the last entry. Except for her name and a photo, it was empty. There was only one line written in the remarks: [You are a free bird, destined to soar proudly into the distance.] Her name was Serena Montgomery. 02 I remembered when we were finalizing the guest list. Colin had been hesitant about that name. He added it several times, only to delete it again. I asked him why. He said she was currently traveling the world and probably wouldn’t make a special trip back. So… she was the first love. Colin’s iMessage was still logged in on the laptop. I found Serena Montgomery. Their chat history had been wiped clean. But her latest Instagram Story read: [Dammit! The man I love is getting married. I’m going to smash his wedding car and steal the groom!] Colin had replied privately: [Stealing me won’t work. I won’t marry you.] [Waaaaah! Fine! So you’ve found true love this time, have you?] […What are you talking about?] [Humph! Forget it! Your family is so archaic. Marrying you means serving your entire clan like a maid. I won’t do it! My journey is the stars and the sea!] [Yeah, I know. That’s why I’m marrying the person they want me to marry. [I couldn’t bear to put you through that.] 03 Couldn’t bear to? Hearing that phrase from Colin’s mouth was truly rare. Colin and I met through a blind date. He was young and successful, the youngest deputy chief of surgery at a top-tier hospital, and handsome. But because he had an incredibly traditional and difficult pair of parents, he had never married. They were intensely controlling and demanded a submissive daughter-in-law who had an eye for servitude and would wait on them. The first time I went home with Colin, his mother demanded I kneel on the floor and massage her swollen feet like a hired servant. But I was willing to endure all of it. Because when I first saw Colin… I thought, for a face like his, I would do anything. We dated for two years. His parents were very satisfied with me. And he gradually became accustomed to a perpetually clean and organized home, warm meals always ready, and shirts ironed to a crisp. But his attitude was always lukewarm. Until his birthday this year. I wanted to personally bake him a cake. But the oven exploded during preheating. By the time he rushed to the hospital, he found my arm full of glass fragments. For the first time, he lost his composure, panicking as he held my face, his voice trembling. “You don’t need to do this for me… You can do without…” But even then, he never said he couldn’t bear to. Later, he proposed. I had assumed he did it out of a sliver of true emotion, willing to commit to me. I never imagined he only did it to appease his parents. Serena was the one he cherished, so much so that he was willing to let her go. The moment I saw their conversation, I knew this relationship should end. He was putting on a show for his parents; I was putting on a show for myself. But no matter how good the acting was, it was still a play. 04 Returning home from the news bureau, I dug out several camera bags from the deep recesses of the bookshelf. They held my deeply buried memories of the past. The feel of the camera casing was now unfamiliar, and the batteries had long since dried up. While waiting for the battery charger to do its work, I inserted the memory card into my computer. I opened those long-buried photos. The first was of a Black woman in a refugee camp waiting for cholera medicine. The second was of a five-year-old child soldier who was barely taller than his rifle. The third was of refugees in North Kivu living in shattered tents. … The smell of smoke and dust seemed to pierce through time and space. My heart felt gripped by a pair of sharp claws. I lay back in my chair, calming my soaring heart rate, and let out a light, self-deprecating laugh. I didn’t know if Colin would still put the words [Quiet and obedient] in my remarks column if he saw these. As I was thinking, my phone vibrated twice. It was a text from him. He sent the location of a restaurant. I suddenly remembered that he invited the bridesmaids and groomsmen for a small gathering tonight. I had no close family, so they were all Colin’s friends. However, I knew clearly that this was just an excuse for an invitation. Because today. Serena was back in the country. 05 I arrived at the restaurant. They had already finished ordering. Serena was sitting right next to Colin. There was no seat for me. When Serena saw me, she sized me up with keen interest. Then she directed me. “Go pull up a chair and sit anywhere!” I sat in the farthest position from them. Throughout the meal, Colin only watched everything indifferently. He didn’t say a single word. Someone asked: “Serena, we thought you wouldn’t make it back this time!” “Are you kidding? This is Colin getting married! I would return even if I had to crawl, just to see what kind of option he finally picked!” Several people exchanged meaningful glances. “That’s true. The relationship between you two is definitely not ordinary.” After that, they began asking Serena about her travels. By the time the main course arrived, she had finished telling stories about yellowfin tuna fishing in the Mediterranean, hiking the Camino de Santiago, and climbing the Uluru monolith in Australia. Their eyes were all shining. “Serena, you’re a girl! You actually dared to go to so many places!” “Humph! I’m not the kind of woman whose world consists only of groceries, a husband, and kids! “The brave enjoy the world first!” 06 Amidst the joyful and boisterous atmosphere, she was the center of attention. Colin sat beside her, rarely interjecting. However, his occasional side glances at her grew so tender that they seemed to drip with water. I silently downed half a shot of liquor. The back of my tongue was bitter with spiciness. Everything felt utterly meaningless. Serena had already moved on to the story of her recent dealings with scammers in Egypt. She suddenly turned her head and asked Colin. “Do you want to know how to say ‘dear’ in Arabic?” Colin paused and shook his head. “I’ll teach you!” Serena leaned against his shoulder, blowing air against his ear. “Habibi~” Colin helplessly straightened her up, his earlobes turning pink. “Sit properly…” “Hurry up and say it with me!” Unable to resist Serena’s persistence, he let out a sigh and obediently spoke. “Habibi…” “Bingo!” “Correct, you are my Habibi~” Her eyes swiveled, and she suddenly looked at me. “Have you ever been to Africa?” 07 Someone immediately sneered. “Look at her. Does she look like it? “Africa? She barely leaves the state line!” Even Colin had a mocking look, shaking his head. Serena narrowed her eyes, a victorious expression on her face. “That’s true. I asked the wrong person! “I should ask which nearby grocery store has the cheapest vegetables, or which brand of toilet bowl cleaner works best!” An outburst of laughter erupted from the table. She turned her head and started the next topic. I slowly clenched my fist. I think I was also somewhat drunk. Otherwise, how could I feel angry because of such clumsy provocation? “I have been,” I said softly. The voices at the dinner table quieted a bit. Serena tilted her head. “What?” “I have been to Africa.” A fleeting look of astonishment passed her face. But it quickly turned disdainful. “Oh, no need to be so vain, right? If you haven’t been, you haven’t been! “Lying is a bad look. It’s easily exposed.” “I’m not lying.” “Then tell us, where did you go? “Kenya? Morocco? Could it be South Africa?” She held her head high, seemingly certain I couldn’t answer. I stared at her. “Democratic Republic of the Congo.” 08 The air suddenly quieted. “…Where? Congo? What kind of place is that?” “Drank too much, right? Making up places now, haha!” “What normal person would go there? It’s a war zone…” The fire in my heart burned brighter. Besides me, there were many other people there! Doctors Without Borders, UN peacekeeping forces, aid construction teams… Are all of them not normal people? “I have not only been there, but I stayed there for an entire year. “I have seen them fighting for mineral resources, I have been to Ebola treatment centers, distributed relief food with UN personnel… “I was even shot!” The room was in dead silence. Everyone opened their mouths wide. “Also.” I swirled my drink in my hand. “There are no yellowfin tuna in the Mediterranean; they prefer tropical waters. The Camino de Santiago is not in Portugal; it starts in France to Spain. And the Uluru monolith has been forbidden to climb since 2019.” I narrowed my eyes. “Serena, lying is a bad look. It’s easily exposed.” 09 Her face instantly turned ghostly white. The puzzled and blank gazes of everyone swiped back and forth between us. Serena suddenly stood up, pretending to be brave. “She’s an orphan with no background! How could she have been to those places! “She’s lying!” I leaned on my hand and smiled. “Then show everyone your photos? “You went to so many places, you must have taken a few pictures, right?” “I… I…” “You wouldn’t happen to have zero photos, would you?” She became increasingly panicked and turned to Colin. “Colin! What’s wrong with your wife!! “Isn’t today my welcome banquet! How could you let her bully me like this! “Forget it. Since I’m so unwelcome, I’ll leave!” Saying so, she wiped her eyes and actually ran out. The scene immediately descended into turmoil. Others were so anxious that they pushed Colin. “Hurry up and chase her! What if she gets lost in the middle of the night!” Colin’s face turned black, he glared at me fiercely, and quickly walked out. Others also left their seats one after another. “Maya, we’ll leave first.” Someone lowered their voice. “How does she have the nerve to target Serena like this? Doesn’t she know she’s just taking up space?” “Jealousy! Serena is beautiful and worldly. What does Maya have?” “She made Serena mad, and in the end, her own fiancé ran out to comfort the other woman. Truly stupid!” They sneered as they walked away. The massive private room was instantly left with just me. I let out a silent scoff. Poured another shot for myself. Tilted my head and downed it. 10 Actually, Serena was right. I indeed haven’t been to those tourist spots. But the reason I knew she was lying was because of my mother. I wasn’t an orphan from birth. She was an international news correspondent, and later began to be stationed in war zones. In that era, women working abroad in combat zones while men raised children at home was considered outrageous. Neighbors always ridiculed me. “Your mother doesn’t want you anymore!” I clenched my fists to beat them, fiercely defending my dignity as a child, but I was only laughed at more relentlessly. When I was little, it was hard to see her even once. But she often sent letters bearing postmarks from all over the world. Writing about her life in great detail, with attached photos. My happiest childhood moments were sitting on my father’s knee and listening to him read her letters. Then I would outline the image of that dynamic woman correspondent in my heart. She said: [Maya, most women’s world is small, but the real world is vast. Wait until you grow up, you must see it personally. Only by seeing the world can you know what you truly want.] She was my eyes. At an age when I hadn’t even read many books, I got a glimpse of the world through her. But when I was five years old, she passed away in the line of duty. She was killed while exposing the massacre of civilians during the Kosovo War. The news bureau only recovered her camera. Inside, besides the precious video materials she swore to protect, there was also a photo of me. I don’t know when she took it. At that time, I didn’t understand what “killed” meant. But the neighbors who used to gossip at our door gloated. “See? Women who run off to seek glory never meet a good end!” After that, I was motherless, but I always remembered her advice. To see personally, to record personally this world. Only then do you know what you want. … This afternoon, I dug out my cameras. The oldest and most worn-out one was hers. The heat rushed to my brain, making me dizzy. I buried my face in my palms. “Mom, I miss you so much…” 11 The next morning. I was awakened by a splitting headache. I pried my eyes open, confused for a while, before realizing I was staring at the ceiling of my apartment. I didn’t even know how I got home yesterday. I got up to pour a glass of warm water. Colin was sitting in the living room, his face gloomy. “Is this how you act as a hostess?” I didn’t want to talk to him at all. I turned and walked toward the study. However, the desk was empty. I asked in a hoarse voice: “Where is my camera?” “I gave it to Serena.” I whipped around. He crossed his arms and sneered: “Didn’t you tell her to take a few more photos?” My brain struggled to process every word coming out of Colin’s mouth. He… he actually gave my mom’s camera to Serena? I suddenly smashed the water glass on the floor. I grabbed his collar. “How dare you touch my camera?! “HOW DARE YOU!!” Colin was startled. “Where is Serena now???” “Maya! Let go!” “WHERE IS SHE?!!” I hysterically ripped at his collar. The alcohol I drank last night all rushed out of my eyes in tears at this moment. Colin was suddenly stunned. “…At the Grand Plaza Hotel.” “Room number!!” “1103…” I shoved him away and rushed out the door. I drove like a maniac to the hotel. I ran directly to the 11th floor and kicked the door hard. “Get out here!!” After a moment, Serena furiously opened the door. “What kind of crazy are you pulling this early in the morning!” I rushed in. Sure enough, the camera was placed on the TV cabinet. I picked it up and prepared to leave, but Serena grabbed my arm. “That’s a gift Colin gave me! You have no right to take it back!” I turned around and slapped her across the face. “This is MINE! What gives you the right to take it!!” She was slapped into a daze. After a long second, she screamed: “You dare hit me!!” She lunged at me, crying and scratching. “You cheap bitch!! “You already stole my man! Now you want to steal the things he gives me too!!” During the scuffle, the fragile, old camera strap snapped in Serena’s grip. She grabbed the body of the camera and hurled it hard against the hardwood floor. CRACK. My brain instantly went blank. That camera. It shattered into several pieces right in front of my eyes. 12 Serena’s eyes held a ruthless triumph. “If I can’t have it, neither can you!!” A tsunami of despair and rage hit me. I grabbed Serena by her hair and used all my strength to slam her against the wall. Just one hit, and she bled. She screamed: “Help! Murder!!” The hotel room door was violently thrown open. Colin rushed in. Seeing Serena bleeding, his eyes widened with fury. He shoved me hard against the wall. “Maya! You’re crazy!!” Serena trembled behind him, touching her forehead, her legs shaking uncontrollably. “…Colin, I’m so scared.” I pushed him away and knelt on the ground. With trembling hands, I tried in vain to piece those fragments together. I didn’t care that the shattered glass was cutting my fingertips. But no matter how I tried, it wouldn’t fit. Colin grabbed my hand. “Calm down! “It’s broken! It can’t be fixed!” I shook violently, silently weeping tears of absolute devastation. He gritted his teeth. “It’s just a broken camera! I’ll buy you a new one! “Do you have to act like a lunatic over this?!” I bit through my lip. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. A broken camera. This was my mother’s only remaining relic in the world, and he called it a broken camera. I looked up, unable to restrain the towering hatred in my eyes. I abruptly slapped Colin across the face. The blood from my fingertips smeared across his cheek. “Colin, get out! “GET OUT!!!” Under his horrified gaze. I took off the engagement ring from my hand. And threw it hard into the trash can.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “411852”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

After spending two years roughing it at a remote project site, I came back to find my position at work stolen, my boyfriend snatched away, and a pick-me girl arrogantly telling me to get out of the company. Unable to take it anymore, I kicked her and my scumbag ex out of the building. “What gives you the right to fire me?!” I slammed the company’s business license onto the table in front of them: “Because I am the owner of this company now.” With my two powerful older brothers backing me up: “Anyone who bullies our sister can forget about ever showing their face in this city again!” 1 After graduating from college, I rejected my family’s proposal to work for our own corporation. Instead, I joined a mid-sized firm in the city with decent benefits, alongside my boyfriend, Caleb Wright. I didn’t want him to feel insecure or think I was just a spoiled brat who relied on her parents. So, I never told him that my dad was a real estate and construction tycoon, my oldest brother was a tech billionaire, and my second brother was a high-ranking diplomat. During our second year at the company, we took on a remote infrastructure project in a small town in North Dakota—a place I had always been curious about but never visited. Caleb and I agreed to go together to build our resumes for two years. But a week before our departure, he changed his mind, claiming he needed to stay at the headquarters to secure a promotion. Coaxed by his promises, I agreed to go to the site alone. The boss had also promised that upon the project’s completion, my position would be bumped up a level when I returned. The project wrapped up a week early. Wanting to give Caleb a surprise, I secretly booked a flight back. But when I arrived at our apartment, there was another woman in the house. Actually, no, there were two… Opening the door, I found an older woman sitting on the sofa. Before I could even speak, a young woman with very average looks walked out of the kitchen. She was carrying a fruit platter and wearing an apron, acting completely like the lady of the house. Seeing me walk in, she didn’t look surprised at all. I knew her. Her name was Harper Quinn, a junior colleague who had previously flirted with Caleb, though he claimed to have rejected her. “What are you doing here?” “Who are you?” The older woman on the sofa and I spoke at the exact same time. Naturally, I was asking Harper, who was holding the fruit. The older woman was asking me. I shifted my gaze to the woman on the sofa and found her somewhat familiar. It took me a moment to realize she was Caleb’s mother. I had seen her in a family portrait Caleb kept on his desk. “Mrs…” Before I could utter a polite greeting, she turned her head and shouted toward the hallway: “Caleb! Caleb… come out here for a second.” “What is it, Mom?” Caleb walked out of the study. When he saw me standing at the door, the color drained from his face. In our six years together, he rarely furrowed his brows that tightly or wore such a conflicted expression. It was the exact same look he had when he told me he wasn’t going to North Dakota. A bad feeling crept into my heart. Whenever Caleb had to choose between two things, he never chose me. “Who is this woman? How does she have the passcode to our house?” Our house? “Mom, this is a coworker. She’s here to drop something off.” A coworker? 2 While I stood there in shock, Caleb rushed to the door, grabbed my suitcase with one hand, and wrapped his other arm around my shoulder, practically shoving me out into the hallway. “Let’s go outside. I’ll explain everything,” he whispered urgently. Just as we took two steps, I heard the woman inside say to his mother, “Auntie, I know that girl. That’s Caleb’s ex-girlfriend. But don’t worry, I trust Caleb to handle it.” His mother quickly chimed in, “Yes, exactly! Our Caleb is a good boy, he’ll handle it. That woman must just be clinging to him. Don’t overthink it, Harper.” … Caleb dragged me all the way to the elevators. He reached out to press the button, and the doors happened to open. He tried to pull me in, but I stood my ground. “What is the meaning of this?” I looked up and confronted him. “I’ve been gone for two months, and suddenly I’m your ex-girlfriend?” Even though I was stationed at a remote project for the last two years, Caleb and I saw each other at least once every two months. Of course, it was almost always me flying back to see him. “Serena, please, just listen to me.” “Speak. I’m listening,” I said, crossing my arms. He tried to pull me into the elevator, saying we should argue outside so his mom wouldn’t hear us. Even now, he was only worried about his mom hearing us, entirely ignoring my feelings. A cold chill washed over my heart. “That is my apartment. Are you trying to force me to go back in there right now and kick those two women out?” I was furious, my voice raising an octave. Caleb came from a rural, working-class background. To protect his ego, I had never told him about my family’s wealth, nor did I tell him that my family bought me this apartment. “Even if the apartment belongs to your friend, I’ve been paying the rent for the last two years,” he retorted. Knowing I didn’t respond well to aggression, he immediately softened his tone. “Serena, I swear, I haven’t done anything to betray you. Please, I’m begging you, let’s just go downstairs for now, okay?” He pulled me into the elevator and hit the button for the lobby. Once he was sure those two women couldn’t hear us, he told me that his mom had come to the city for a minor surgery last month. She insisted on meeting his girlfriend, so he asked Harper to play the part. I was dumbfounded. I never imagined such an absurd excuse. If he had told me early on that he was bringing his mom in for surgery, I would have thought it was her dying wish or something. And even if she genuinely wanted to meet his girlfriend, why didn’t he just call me back? North Dakota wasn’t the moon. It was a three-hour flight. “I didn’t reach out to Harper. I ran into her at the hospital when I took my mom in for a checkup. She happens to know a doctor there and kindly helped us schedule the surgery sooner. My mom misunderstood and thought she was my girlfriend… Just to give my mom peace of mind for her surgery, I didn’t correct her.” “I never even knew your mom was coming for surgery. You could have told me! Why keep it a secret?” “I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to hide it from you. She came so suddenly, and you were so far away. Plus, the project was in its final crunch phase for the last two months. I didn’t want to distract you.” The last two months of the project really were insanely busy. I had been working myself to the bone, mainly because I wanted to finish early and come back. So, hearing him say that did soften my heart a little. After all, we had been together for six years. I couldn’t just condemn him over this one incident. “So what are you going to do now? Are you going to tell your mom the truth, or are you going to keep up the charade and officially make me your ex?” I asked, suppressing my temper. 3 “Just give me a little time, okay? My mom has mostly recovered. I’m putting her on a flight back home in a couple of days. After that, it’ll just be the two of us again.” He reached out and hugged me. I struggled for a moment but couldn’t break free. “Forgive me, please? I’m really just putting on an act for my mom. I have absolutely zero feelings for her,” he whispered in my ear, his tone incredibly sincere. He even added, “I didn’t like her in college, why would I have anything to do with her now?” Thinking about it, it made sense. She wasn’t as pretty as me, nor did she have my figure. How could Caleb possibly like her? Seeing that I was listening, Caleb pressed his advantage, saying I must be exhausted from the flight. He promised to take me out for a nice dinner and book a nice hotel so I could get a good night’s sleep. Before I could even ask where he planned to sleep tonight, he volunteered: “A new boutique spa resort opened a few miles east of our office. The CEO stayed there when he came for a meeting, and I dropped off some files for him. The scenery is beautiful. Let’s stay there tonight, okay?” I still felt sick to my stomach. Two voices were fighting in my head: The other woman has literally moved into your house. Are they really just acting? But we had known each other for nearly ten years and had been together for exactly six. I knew what kind of person he was. I should trust him. He definitely wouldn’t cross a fundamental line. In the end, between logic and emotion, I chose the latter. I agreed to go to the hotel with him. On the way, Caleb promised me again that he would send his mom back home by the day after tomorrow at the latest. “What I want isn’t for you to send your mom back home. I want you to explain everything to her clearly. You can’t let her think that I’m some clingy ex-girlfriend and Harper is your actual girlfriend.” I wanted the current problem solved immediately, leaving no lingering issues. Caleb looked conflicted, saying his mom had just had surgery and he was afraid the shock would be too much for her. He also mentioned that she really liked Harper since she had made such a good first impression. “So what? When we get married, is Harper going to play the bride too?” I refused to accept his excuses and told him straight out: “If you won’t tell her, I’m going back right now to clear things up.” He finally surrendered, promising to find a good time in the next two days to tell his mom the truth. 4 Bombarded by Caleb’s sweet talk, I dropped the issue for the moment. We arrived at the spa resort on the outskirts of the city. After dropping our bags in the room, we headed out to grab some food. The receptionist had mentioned there was a highly-rated rooftop garden restaurant. I hadn’t eaten much all day, and I was genuinely starving. Just as we walked into the restaurant, Caleb’s phone rang. He turned his back to answer it. His voice wasn’t loud, but I heard every word. “Mom, no… there was an emergency at work. I won’t be back for dinner, you guys go ahead and eat. Alright… I’ll drop by for a bit later. Yeah…” Obviously, his mom was calling to demand he come home. Honestly, part of me hoped he would just go back and resolve the situation right then. But he hung up, walked over, and didn’t mention his mom at all. He just said, “You must be starving. Let’s order.” Just as we flagged a waiter down, Caleb’s phone rang again. He glanced at the screen, flipped the phone over, and ignored it. I pretended not to notice and kept looking at the menu. But his phone kept buzzing relentlessly. I didn’t want to finish this meal to the soundtrack of his vibrating phone. I looked up at him. “Answer it.” He gave me an awkward look and finally picked it up. I minded my own business and ordered two local dishes I had been craving while I was in North Dakota. By the time I finished ordering, his call was over too. “My mom said Harper burned her hand making soup. She insists I go back.” I had heard the whole thing. On the other end of the line, his mom was frantically saying Harper burned herself and he needed to come back. Then, a sickly-sweet voice chimed in: “I’m fine, Auntie. Tell Caleb he doesn’t need to come. It’s not that serious. I’ll just go buy some ointment at the pharmacy later.” His mom yelled, “Your whole hand is red! How can you be fine?! We need to go to the hospital immediately!” Harper replied, “Caleb must be busy. Auntie, let’s not bother him.” Then, my boyfriend said, “Don’t panic. I’ll be right there.” I couldn’t help but wonder: injuring yourself and acting this pathetic just for a man… is it really worth it? “Are you a doctor?” I put the menu down and looked at him. My implication was obvious: if she has a burn, she needs a doctor, not him. “But, Harper got burned while cooking for my mom. Serena, you don’t understand. For the past month, Harper has been taking care of my mom with so much dedication—more than even I have. My mom’s surgery wasn’t supposed to happen this fast; the waitlist was at least two weeks. It was Harper who pulled strings with a contact at the hospital to bump her up. I know I shouldn’t be telling you this…” “Then shut the hell up!” I slammed the menu onto the table, cutting him off. Seeing his face instantly darken, I suddenly felt that exhausting myself to finish a project a week early just to rush back for him was completely worthless. “What does any of that have to do with me? That’s your mom, not mine.” “Right, she’s my mom.” He gave a bizarre, cold chuckle. “You’re always like this. You never try to understand my difficulties. Why didn’t I tell you about my mom’s surgery? Because telling you wouldn’t have helped! You don’t know how to cook, you don’t know how to take care of people, and you don’t have Harper’s connections. Now someone else has stepped up and done everything, and instead of being grateful, you throw a tantrum. Serena, why don’t you take a good look at yourself?” Me? I was so angry I actually laughed. His mother gets sick, so he brings his flirty admirer into my apartment, uses my kitchen, and then expects me to be overflowing with gratitude that she took care of my future mother-in-law? I wasn’t Harper Quinn. I didn’t have a pathetic bone in my body. “Caleb Wright, get the hell out!” I couldn’t swallow this insult. I pointed at the door and told him to leave. 5 Caleb turned around without hesitation. I was so furious I grabbed my water glass and hurled it at him. “Caleb, we’re done!” He left without looking back. Furious, I ate two entire bowls of rice by myself. I thought he just went back to check on the situation and would return to coax me considering our six years together. But not only did he not return after dinner, I also received a gloating message from Harper. “Serena, since Caleb can’t bring himself to say it, let me spell it out for you. Caleb got bored of you a long time ago. I suggest you take the hint and leave on your own. You can’t give Caleb what he wants.” I didn’t even know how Harper got on my contacts list. Because of work, I had added a lot of colleagues and clients, so she probably snuck in using an alt account. I clicked on her Instagram profile. Wow, her grid was spectacular. All the designer bags and skincare products she was showing off were photographed in my bedroom. Of course, the luxury waterfront condo was mine too. Even the boyfriend was mine. The most recent post was a screenshot of their texts: Her: “I want the first Pumpkin Spice Latte of the fall, and I want it from you.” The profile picture was blurred, but I instantly recognized it as Caleb. He replied: “Okay, I’ll get it for you right now.” Her: “Just… the latte?” Followed by a pouting, expectant emoji. Caleb: “I’ll buy you whatever you want.” Followed by a cute emoji. She replied with a smirking emoji. In the past two years, when had he ever sent me emojis like that? When had he ever spoken to me in such a doting tone? The first year I was away was mostly fine; we video-called almost every day. But gradually, he said he needed to focus on work so he could get promoted and give us a better life. So, he always used work as an excuse to avoid calling me. I thought he was genuinely busy… Well, he was busy, just not with work. He was busy spoiling another woman. There were so many similar screenshots. Two months ago on Valentine’s Day, I said I’d fly back to spend it with him. He said he was swamped with a new project and wouldn’t have time for me even if I came. He told me to wait until my project was over, and he’d make it up to me. That exact day, Harper posted a picture of two movie tickets. The long, slender fingers holding them were unmistakably Caleb’s. Half a year ago, on my birthday, I thought he’d fly out to see me. Instead, he sent me a $30 lipstick, claiming a new executive had taken over and was working everyone to the bone. But that very day, Harper posted a picture of a steak dinner. On the wrist holding the wine glass, the Rolex I bought for him was glaringly obvious. There was so much more. I couldn’t stomach reading any further. At this point, my heart was ice cold. Colder than a butcher’s knife. If I read any more, I was afraid I’d grab a butcher’s knife myself and slaughter the two of them. Clearly, Harper didn’t think her Instagram posts were enough to provoke me. Back in our chat, I saw she had shamelessly sent several more messages: texts, voice memos, and photos. The photo was her and Caleb sitting on a bed, kissing. Yes, on my bed. The voice memo was a secret recording of his mother scolding Caleb. “That woman doesn’t look like a good person at all. You need to end it with her. Harper is such a sweet girl, don’t do her wrong.” “I know, Mom. I’ll handle it. Don’t worry.” “I’m getting old, I can’t help you much. Thank God you’re successful and found a girlfriend as wealthy and virtuous as Harper. Caleb, don’t take the wrong path. We shouldn’t get involved with wild girls like that. Only a refined lady like Harper is worthy of our family.” I actually wanted to vomit. In all these years, I truly hadn’t realized Caleb was this kind of person. Even if he had just defended me with a single sentence when his mother spoke like that, I wouldn’t be this furious. But he didn’t. Six years of my youth, fed to the dogs. Well then, isn’t it time I kick the dogs out of my house and clean up the trash? I’m a decisive person who knows how to hold a grudge. Without a second thought, I headed straight to my family home and grabbed the deed to that apartment. Before Caleb moved into that place, I lied and told him it belonged to a wealthy friend who lived abroad and was renting it to me for a third of the market price—just to have someone watch the place. I made Caleb pay half the rent every month. Of course, the money he gave me was almost entirely spent back on him. Buying him meals, gifts… I was never stingy with him. My heart ached for his poor background and frugal nature. I thought he was just a reliable, honest guy. Who would have thought it was just a massive scam? 6 With the deed in hand, I returned to the apartment. The three people relaxing on the sofa, eating fruit and watching TV, were all stunned. “Why are you lingering like a ghost… Caleb, change the passcode immediately. What kind of shameless person keeps harassing her ex after they’ve broken up?” His mother spoke first, her tone venomous. “You definitely should change the passcode. But before that, we need to kick the stray dogs out,” I said, stepping inside and crossing my arms. “Are you going to leave on your own, or should I have security throw you out?” “This is my Caleb’s house! Who are you to kick anyone out?” “Haha… Caleb’s house.” I stepped closer, looking at Caleb. “Your house?” “Serena, stop making a scene.” He came over and grabbed my arm, trying to pull me outside. I forcefully shook him off and scanned the room. In just two months, my home had completely changed. “Caleb, get rid of this woman. My head hurts and I want to sleep.” His mother dramatically massaged her temples. Harper immediately rushed over to play the devoted servant. “Auntie, let me help you to bed. Serena must have something to discuss with Caleb, let them talk.” Harper’s understanding demeanor was obviously meant to make me look like I was throwing an unreasonable tantrum. Hah! As if I cared anymore! “Serena, let’s talk in the bedroom.” Caleb tried to pull me toward the master bedroom. I refused, sitting down directly on the sofa, and said calmly, “I’m putting this out there right now. Either you leave, or I have you thrown out.” “What gives you the right to kick us out? This is my Caleb’s house, not yours! If anyone is leaving, it’s you!” Before Caleb could speak, his mother yelled again. “Caleb’s house? Did he buy it?” I looked at his mother with amusement. “Of course he did! Did you see how wealthy, capable, and propertied my Caleb is, and decide you wanted to leech off him? Let me tell you, no way! My only daughter-in-law is Harper!” Hearing Caleb’s mother say this, Harper feigned embarrassment, but a smug look flashed in her eyes. “Wow… Caleb, I really didn’t know you were this vain,” I said, looking up at him. Guilty under my gaze, he lowered his eyes, his voice softening. “Serena, please don’t make a scene, okay? We can talk this out reasonably.” “What’s there to talk about reasonably? Caleb, we’re not afraid of her.” His mother really was a clueless country woman; she had no idea her son’s face was burning bright red with shame. I couldn’t be bothered to argue with them anymore. I pulled the property deed from my bag and shoved it in their faces. “Old lady, open your eyes wide and look closely. This apartment is mine. It clearly says ‘Serena Sterling’ right here. For the past two years, your precious son has been renting from me.” “What?” His mother’s eyes widened in disbelief. But the person even more shocked was Caleb. “This is your apartment? I thought you said…” “That was to protect your fragile ego. Who rents out a three-bedroom luxury waterfront condo in this neighborhood for $1,500 a month? You know exactly what housing prices are like around here.” Looking at the information on the deed, Caleb was utterly speechless. “This is impossible, it must be fake.” His mother refused to believe it and reached out to snatch the deed. I tossed it back into my bag and pulled out my phone to call the concierge. “We’ll see if it’s fake when security gets here.” Within two minutes of my call, the concierge sent up two security guards. “Hello, Ms. Sterling. How can we assist you?” “These people are trespassing in my home. Please escort them out.” When I first told Caleb it was my friend’s place, I told him I had already paid the deposit, so we just needed to pay the monthly rent. We split it, and he gave me $750 a month. But for the last two months, I hadn’t asked him for the money, and he hadn’t offered it. So kicking them out was entirely within my rights! “Serena, do you have to be this ruthless?” Caleb frowned at me. I sneered and looked up at him. “Me, ruthless? …Hah, did you think about me when you brought her into my home? Did you think about me when you told me not to visit on Valentine’s Day so you could take her to the movies? Did you think about whether you were ruthless when you left me alone in North Dakota on my birthday to eat steak with her?” Looking up at him, I suddenly felt like the man in front of me was a total stranger. In the past ten years, had I never truly known him, or was he just an incredible actor? I had completely failed to see how vain and selfish he really was. Actually, the signs were all there. I was just blinded by love, treating all his flaws as quirks. “Ma’am, are you ready to leave with your wonderful son and daughter-in-law now?” I turned to Caleb’s mother, using every ounce of my upbringing to restrain my temper. “I’m not leaving! This is my son’s house. My son bought it with his money. You must have bewitched him into buying it and putting your name on it. This is my son’s property!” I truly had never met a woman this shameless. “Do you know how much this apartment costs? This condo is worth over three million dollars. Your son has been working for four years, making barely six grand a month after taxes. Even if he didn’t eat or drink for ten years, he couldn’t afford a single bathroom in this place. This apartment was bought for me by my family as a graduation gift.” Upon graduation, my oldest brother bought me this apartment, and my second brother bought me a car. It just so happened the job I took wasn’t far away, so I invited Caleb to move in with me. “I’ll give you two hours to pack your things. If you’re not done in two hours, I’ll have everything thrown out into the hall.” After saying that, I took out my phone and called my oldest brother, Carter. “Carter, I need you to buy me two new beds and have them delivered to Harborview Penthouse right now. Oh, and a new sofa, dining chairs, vanity… just replace everything you can see. Everything.” But honestly, even if I replaced the furniture, I’d still feel grossed out. No, I need Carter to find someone to remodel the whole place. Or maybe just buy me a new apartment entirely… A new apartment… That sounded like a good idea. Thinking of an excuse to get my parents to buy me a new place improved my mood slightly.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “411853”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

On the eve of our wedding, I found a spreadsheet on Nathaniel’s laptop. It was filled with details about the girls he had dated. In my column, it read: 【Docile, suitable for marriage.】 While in his first love’s column, it read: 【You are a wild bird; you belong to the proud skies far away.】 He said he wouldn’t marry her. Because his wife had to manage three meals a day, care for him, raise his children, and serve his difficult parents. He couldn’t bear for her to do that. I didn’t argue, nor did I make a scene. The next day, I went back to the network news bureau. Nathaniel didn’t know that I had a spreadsheet too. An application form to transfer to Africa as a war correspondent. The man I truly loved was still there. I had to go find him. 01 “You want to go back to being a war correspondent?!” A shocked exclamation erupted in the newsroom this morning. I had just handed in my transfer application. “Yes,” I said calmly. “I want a long-term assignment in the Congo.” “Elena…” Sarah, the station director, was speechless for a long time. “You’re excellent at being a war correspondent. We all saw that three years ago. But you’re right in the middle of preparing for a wedding! Everyone assumes you’re about to go on leave!” “Will your fiancé even agree to you going back to such a dangerous place?” I was silent for a fleeting moment. “I’m not getting married.” “What??” InSarah’s shocked gaze, I spoke with firm certainty. “Yes. The wedding is off.” Yesterday, Nathaniel went out to run wedding errands. He asked me to send him the inventory list of things on his computer. I opened the file labeled 【Wedding Plan】. But what I found was his relationship record. There were six girls listed. Each entry was a detailed account of their height, appearance, and background. Mine was at the top. 【Name: Elena Vance. 【Family: Orphaned. No parents, simple social connections. 【Personality: Virtuous, housewife potential. Silent and obedient. No ambition. 【Remarks: Can manage housework. Good for breeding offspring.】 At the bottom, he had highlighted a few words in yellow: 【Suitable for marriage.】 My heart dropped in an instant. I paused for a few seconds, then continued scrolling. The other girls had similar evaluations. 【Extravagant. Not considered.】 【Lazy lifestyle. Not considered.】 【Has a dependent younger brother. Not considered.】 But the last entry. Except for her name and a photo, it was empty. There was only one line written in the remarks: 【You are a wild bird; you belong to the proud skies far away.】 Her name was Chloe Albright. 02 I remembered when we were finalizing the guest list. Nathaniel had been hesitant about that name. He added it several times, only to delete it again. I asked him why. He said she was currently traveling the world and probably wouldn’t make a special trip back. So… she was the first love. Nathaniel’s Messenger account was still logged on to the laptop. I found Chloe Albright. Their chat history had been wiped clean. But her latest Instagram Story read: 【Dammit! The man I love is getting married. I’m going to crash the wedding and steal the groom!】 Nathaniel had replied privately: 【Stealing won’t work. I won’t marry you.】 【Waaaaah! Fine! So you’ve found true love this time, have you?】 【…What are you talking about?】 【Humph! Forget it! Your family is so archaic and rigid. Marrying you means serving your entire clan. I won’t do it! My journey is the stars and the sea!】 【Yeah, I know. That’s why I married the person they wanted me to marry. I couldn’t bear to put you through that.】 03 Couldn’t bear to? Hearing that word from Nathaniel’s mouth was truly rare. Nathaniel and I met through a blind date set up by mutual friends. He was young and successful, the youngest deputy chief of surgery at a prestigious university hospital. He was also handsome. But because he had an old-money, traditional, and difficult pair of parents, he had never married. They were incredibly controlling and demanded a submissive daughter-in-law who had an eye for servitude and would wait on them hand and foot. The first time I went home with Nathaniel to meet his parents, his mother brought a basin of water and demanded I kneel to wash her feet. I was willing to endure all of it. Because when I first saw Nathaniel… I thought, for this face, I would do anything. We dated for two years. His parents were very satisfied with me. And he gradually became accustomed to a perpetually clean and organized home, warm meals always ready, and shirts ironed to a crisp. But his attitude was always lukewarm. Until his birthday this year. I wanted to personally bake him a cake. But the oven exploded during preheating. By the time he rushed to the hospital, he found my arm full of glass fragments. For the first time, he was somewhat out of character, panicking as he held my face, his voice trembling. “You don’t need to do this for me… You can do without…” But even then, he never said he couldn’t bear to. Later, he proposed. I had assumed he did it out of a sliver of true emotion, willing to commit to me. I never imagined he only did it to appease his parents. Chloe Albright was the one he cherished, so much so that he was willing to let her go. The moment I saw their conversation. I knew this relationship should end. He was acting for his parents; I was acting for myself. But no matter how good the acting was, it was still a play. 04 Returning home from the news bureau, I dug out several camera bags from the deep recesses of the bookshelf. They held my deeply buried memories of the past. The feel of the camera casing was now unfamiliar, and the batteries had long since dried up. While waiting for the battery charger to do its work, I inserted the memory card into my computer. I opened those long-buried photos. The first was of a black woman in a refugee camp waiting for cholera medicine. The second was of a five-year-old child soldier who was barely taller than his rifle. The third was of refugees in North Kivu living in shattered tents. … The smell of smoke and dust seemed to pierce through time and space. My heart felt gripped by a pair of sharp claws. I lay back in my chair, calming my soaring heart rate, and let out a light, self-deprecating laugh. I didn’t know if Nathaniel would still put the words 【Docile and obedient】 in my remarks column if he saw these. As I was thinking, my phone vibrated. It was a text from him. He sent the location of a restaurant. I suddenly remembered that he invited the bridesmaids and groomsmen for a small gathering tonight. I had no close friends, so they were all Nathaniel’s friends. However, I knew clearly that this was just an excuse for an invitation. Because today. Chloe was back. 05 I arrived at the restaurant. They had already finished ordering. Chloe was sitting right next to Nathaniel. There was no seat for me. And when Chloe saw me, she sized me up with keen interest. Then she directed me. “Go pull up a chair and sit anywhere!” I sat in the farthest position from them. Throughout the meal, Nathaniel only watched everything indifferently. He didn’t say a single word. Someone asked: “Chloe, we thought you wouldn’t make it back this time!” “Are you kidding? This is Nathaniel getting married! I would return even if I had to crawl, just to see what kind of option he finally picked!” Several people exchanged meaningful glances. “That’s true. The relationship between you two is not ordinary.” After that, they began asking Chloe about her travels. By the time the main course arrived, she had finished telling stories about yellowfin tuna fishing in the Mediterranean, the Portuguese Camino de Santiago pilgrimage route, and climbing the Uluru monolith in Australia. Their eyes were all shining. “Chloe, you’re a girl! You actually dared to go to so many places!” “Humph! I’m not the kind of woman whose world consists only of firewood, rice, oil, and salt for her husband and kids! The brave enjoy the world first!” 06 Amidst the joyful and boisterous atmosphere, she was the center of attention. Nathaniel sat beside her, rarely interjecting. However, his occasional side glances at her grew so tender that they seemed to drip with water. I silently downed half a shot of tequila. The back of my tongue was bitter with spiciness. Everything felt utterly meaningless. Chloe had already moved on to the story of her recent dealings with scammers in Egypt. She suddenly turned her head and asked Nathaniel. “Do you want to know how to say ‘dear’ in Arabic?” Nathaniel paused and shook his head. “I’ll teach you!” Chloe leaned against his shoulder, blowing air against his ear. “Habibi~” Nathaniel helplessly straightened her up, his earlobes turning pink. “Sit properly…” “Hurry up and learn with me!” Unable to resist Chloe’s persistence, he let out a sigh and obediently spoke. “Habibi…” “Bingo!” “Correct, you are my Habibi~” Her eyes swiveled and she suddenly looked at me. “Have you ever been to Africa?” 07 Someone immediately sneered. “Look at her. Does she look like it? Africa? She barely leaves the state line!” Even Nathaniel had a mocking look, shaking his head. Chloe narrowed her eyes, a victorious expression on her face. “That’s true. I asked the wrong person!” “We should ask her which nearby grocery store has the cheapest vegetables, or which brand of toilet bowl cleaner works best!” An outburst of laughter erupted from the table. She turned her head and started the next topic. I slowly clenched my fist. I think I was also somewhat drunk. Otherwise, how could I feel angry because of such clumsy provocation? “I have been,” I said softly. The voices at the dinner table quieted a bit. Chloe tilted her head. “What?” “I have been to Africa.” A fleeting look of astonishment passed her face, but it quickly turned disdainful. “Oh, no need to be so vain, right? If you haven’t been, you haven’t been!” “Lying is a bad look. It’s easily exposed.” “I’m not lying.” “Then you say, where did you go? Kenya? Morocco? Could it be South Africa?” She held her head high, seemingly certain I couldn’t answer. I stared at her. “Congo-Kinshasa.” 08 The air suddenly quieted. “…Where? Congo-Kinshasa? What kind of place is that?” “Drank too much, right? Even such things can be boasted about, haha!” “Which normal person would go there? Such a poor and chaotic place…” The fire in my heart burned brighter. Besides me, there were many other people there! Doctors Without Borders, peacekeeping forces, aid construction teams… Are all of them not normal people? “I have not only been there, but I have also stayed there for a whole year. “I have seen them fighting for mineral resources, I have been to Ebola treatment centers, distributed relief food with UN personnel… “I was even shot!” The room was in dead silence. Everyone opened their mouths wide. “Also.” I swirled my drink in my hand. “There are no yellowfin tuna in the Mediterranean; they prefer tropical waters. The Camino de Santiago pilgrimage route is not in Portugal; it starts in France to Spain. And the Uluru monolith has been forbidden to climb since 2019.” I narrowed my eyes. “Chloe, lying is a bad look. It’s easily exposed.” 09 Her face instantly turned ghostly white. The puzzled and blank gazes of everyone swiped back and forth between us. Chloe suddenly stood up, pretending to be brave. “She’s an orphan with no background! How could she have been to those places! “She’s lying!” I leaned on my hand and smiled. “Then you show everyone the photos? Went to so many places, must have taken a few photos, right?” “I… I…” “Won’t be not having any, right?” She became increasingly panicked and turned to Nathaniel. “Nathaniel! What’s wrong with your wife!! “Is today not my welcome banquet! How could you let her bully me like this! “Forget it. Since I’m so unwelcome, then I’ll leave!” Saying so, she wiped her eyes and actually ran out. The scene immediately was in turmoil. Others were so anxious that they pushed Nathaniel. “Hurry up and chase! What if she gets lost in the middle of the night!” Nathaniel’s face turned black, he glared at me fiercely, and quickly walked out. Others also left their seats one after another. “Elena, we’ll leave first.” Someone lowered their voice. “How does she have the face to target Chloe like this? Doesn’t she know she’s just Nathaniel’s stable option, and Chloe is the real one?” “Jealous! Chloe is beautiful and knowledgeable. What does she have?” “She made Chloe embarrassed, and in the end, wasn’t it her husband who went to coax. Truly stupid!” They sneered as they went away. The massive private room was instantly left with just me. I let out a silent scoff. Poured another cup of tequila for myself. Tilted my head and downed it.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “411854”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I’ve read countless romance novels about the “regretful ex crawling back,” but I never expected to become a character in one. Except, in my story, there was no “crawling back.” Only the ashes. Because I was truly dead. I became a ghost, tethered to the man who took me for granted. Seven days after my death, it was as if a delayed wave of grief had finally crushed him. In the home I could never return to, he howled, wept, and shattered into pieces. You ask how I felt? I just stood there, blankly, meticulously savoring every inch of agony on his face. I listened earnestly to his desperate, agonizing wails over my departure. Beneath the sorrow and heartbreak, a massive, twisted wave of schadenfreude surged within me. A joyful, ecstatic sense of vindication. It was a sharp, liberating thrill. I covered my mouth and laughed. 1 After I died, I became even more certain that Holden Crawford had never truly loved me. When the police called him to identify my body at the morgue, he thought I had teamed up with my friends to pull a sick prank. He thought it was just my way of forcing him to give me a way to step down from our fight. Because right before I died, we had gotten into a massive argument. I had looked at his phone and seen texts from his ex-girlfriend. In reality, they were just discussing work. There was no explicit flirting. But a woman’s sensitivity and suspicion caused my emotions to spiral out of control. His ex-girlfriend. His “one that got away.” His absolute muse. He had never deleted the photos of them from his camera roll. Yet, in all the years we had been together, we didn’t have a single picture together. The day before, he was running a 102-degree fever. I stayed awake all night by his bed, nursing him. But in his feverish delirium, the name he mumbled was hers. These things piled up, piece by piece, until my emotions erupted like a volcano. Finally, Holden looked at me with exhaustion and said, “Harper, stop causing a scene.” Harper. He was always so cold and distant, calling me by my full name. But in his texts, he called his ex-girlfriend by her sweet nickname, “Ella.” Why didn’t he just call her Stella Montgomery? Holden said I was being unreasonable. He didn’t know that this was just the final straw on a mountain of suppressed feelings. I didn’t want the argument to escalate into something uglier, so I slammed the door and left. 2 But I never expected to be so unlucky. After fighting with Holden, I originally planned to go to the mall to do some retail therapy and clear my head. Instead, I ran into a psychopath. Life is unpredictable like that. I was murdered. The police called Holden to the morgue. Holden frowned, answering the phone with intense impatience: “Harper, are you done? Can you stop being so childish?” After he hung up, the police called him a second time. “Hello, please don’t hang up. This is the Central Precinct. This is not a prank. Am I speaking to Mr. Holden Crawford? Do you know a Harper Quinn? She was murdered at the downtown mall. Please come to the precinct immediately to identify the body.” In the suffocating, oppressive morgue. My body was covered tightly by a white sheet. Only one arm hung out, smeared with dried, dark blood. The detective said, “Take a look. Is the victim your girlfriend, Harper Quinn?” He reached out to pull back the white sheet covering my head. But Holden grabbed the detective’s wrist in a death grip. He stared fixedly at the arm hanging out—at the tattoo of a wild rose intertwined with the letters “HC”. Even beneath the mottled bloodstains, it was strikingly visible. I remembered when I first got that tattoo. I excitedly held it up to show Holden. He was furious. He thought that permanently marking his initials on my body was incredibly irresponsible. Actually, his grandmother had just passed away around that time. He had said, in total despair, that from then on, he was an orphan, utterly alone in the world. So I went and got that tattoo. I just wanted to make him a little happier. I pointed to the tattoo and solemnly promised him, “The wild rose symbolizes eternal companionship. Holden, I will always be with you.” So you will never be an orphan, and you will never be alone. I’ve forgotten his exact reaction, but I remember moving myself to tears. Thinking back on it now, his anger was probably just a feeling of being burdened. The person he wanted by his side forever… was always someone else. 3 Holden stared dead at my tattoo. He said, “There’s no need. It’s her.” He looked so calm, just incredibly pale. I heard the detective tell him, “The killer was a sociopath, stabbing people at random in the mall. Your girlfriend was trying to pull a pregnant woman to safety but got tripped and fell. She died a hero.” No, I didn’t. I was trying to help the pregnant woman run, but when the killer was right behind us, she shoved me backward to save herself and ran away. I was stabbed over twenty times by that psychopath. I bled to death. Just my rotten luck. I stood in front of Holden and cried. It hurts so much, Holden. I hurt so, so much. But thankfully, he didn’t let the detective lift the sheet. My body was definitely too mangled to look at. When Holden walked out of the morgue, he stumbled slightly. Then he leaned silently against the wall in the hallway. After a long time, he called my parents, probably to inform them of my death. No one answered. This wasn’t surprising. My parents divorced when I was very young and had no affection for me. They were probably afraid I was calling to ask for money, so they had cut ties with me years ago. The police were efficient. An older officer patted Holden’s shoulder, handed him a business card, and said, “This is the contact for the crematorium. Have them come pick her up as soon as possible. It’s hot out; you can’t keep her here for days, and you can’t take her home.” From the moment I was murdered to the moment I became a handful of ashes in Holden’s hands. Not even twelve hours had passed. And Holden handled my post-mortem affairs with chilling calmness. Signing papers at the station, going through the motions, everything perfectly organized. I opened my ghostly eyes wide, trying to find a single trace of grief on his handsome, pale face. Just a little bit. Couldn’t he shed just one tear for me? Even if he had kept a dog for this many years, he should have at least faked some sadness, right? But sadly, I found nothing. 4 I floated home with Holden. He sat on the couch, staring blankly, as if the sudden reality hadn’t registered. I couldn’t blame him; even I felt like I was in a dream. One second I was perfectly alive, arguing with him about his ex-girlfriend. The next, I was murdered, reduced to a wandering spirit in the mortal realm. I could never go back. I was dead. My body had been hacked over twenty times. Every minute leading up to my death was agonizing. My physical form was now just a pile of ashes, and here I was, a pathetic ghost, greedily searching my boyfriend’s demeanor for any tiny clue that he might have actually loved me. What a pitiful, tragic existence. Maybe before the sun rises tomorrow, I’ll fade away completely. I suddenly felt a little scared. Holden stared blankly at the ceiling, lost in thought. I gently drifted over and rested my head against his shoulder. Trying to draw some warmth from his body. Surprisingly, when the sun rose the next day, I hadn’t vanished. I turned to look for Holden. He was on the phone with Stella Montgomery. They were going on a business trip together to handle a client’s case in Boston. Oh, right. He and Stella were both lawyers. Last year, Stella jumped ship and joined his top-tier Big Law firm. Holden was a senior partner there. That was when our frequent, explosive arguments began. I remember one time I was so furious I lost my filter. I asked, “Holden, do you want to rekindle things with your ex? If you want to break up, just say it.” He stood in the living room, backlit by the window, his handsome face devoid of emotion. He just stared at me coldly and didn’t say a word. Later, I regretted the fight and gave myself a way out. I stood in the kitchen, wiping my tears, and asked, “Holden, do you want beef stew or chicken parm for dinner?” He said beef stew. And just like that, we made up, both pretending the fight had never happened. 5 Holden hung up the phone and started packing his suitcase. I thought my death would at least make him depressed for a little while, but clearly, I was wrong. My death hadn’t caused even a ripple in his emotional state. He didn’t even delay his business trip. I never expected him to be like this after I died. He kept to his routine, going to work, coming home, sleeping late, waking up early. His life ran like clockwork. Aside from occasionally zoning out for long periods, he acted as if I had never existed in his world. I was like a sea foam bubble, vanishing completely from his life without leaving a single trace. How heartless. Who knows, maybe on this trip, fighting side-by-side with Stella, staying in the same hotel, the old flames might reignite. Whatever. I was already dead. Right, I’m dead. I suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of exhaustion and a chill in my heart. It’s strange. You still have a heart after you die. The pain branched out from my chest, creeping along my stagnant veins until it was unbearable. I felt my entire body become weightless, floating gently in mid-air. I heard the sound of the front door closing. I had originally wanted to follow Holden on his trip. But I thought, what was the point? Even if they kissed right in front of me, there was nothing I could do. I stared at the ceiling in the dead-silent house and started reminiscing about my history with Holden. I always knew he didn’t love me. But I never expected that, after staying by his side for so many years, he wouldn’t have even a sliver of affection for me. 6 Holden and I went to the same university. He was pre-law; I was a struggling art major barely scraping by. During my freshman year, the university hosted a seminar on student rights and fraud prevention. We had just finished an exhausting week of campus orientation. We had been standing in the blistering sun all day and just wanted to go back to the dorms and sleep. Being forced to attend some boring seminar led to widespread complaints, and everyone was drowsy. Until Holden stepped up to the podium. The professor running the seminar had a last-minute emergency and sent his star student to fill in. The moment Holden stood there, I was wide awake. I couldn’t help it. I was a sucker for a pretty face. He was tall, lean, and incredibly pleasant to look at. His expression was cool, his eyes deep. When he spoke, his pacing was perfect, his voice captivating. He made a dry, boring seminar on student rights sound fascinating. Looking at him shining on that stage, my naive, young heart fluttered wildly, and I fell head over heels for him. The result was predictable. I chased him for six months, and he avoided me like the plague for six months. I was young, passionate, and reckless for love. I had this stubborn courage that refused to give up until I hit a brick wall. But I never considered that my “courage” was actually a nuisance to him. Once, when I blocked his path again, smiling and offering him some pastries I had baked myself, he stared at me with those dark eyes and asked: “You spend every day chasing after someone who doesn’t like you, wasting your time and mine. Don’t you have your own life to live?” I didn’t catch his underlying meaning back then. I just foolishly said, “My life right now is trying to win you over.” Then I held up my finger, showing him a blister I got from baking. Pouting a little, I said, “Look, it hurts.” His gaze swept coldly over my finger and landed on my face. He frowned slightly, let out a detached sigh, and said with obvious frustration, “The things you do don’t move me, Harper. You’re just moving yourself. And this self-sacrificing act of yours is putting a huge burden on me.” He looked at the tears welling up in my eyes, hesitated for a second to choose his words, but still said it, “And I really don’t like you.” “You’re a nice person, but I will never, ever be attracted to a girl with your personality. Do you understand?” A girl with my personality. I sat on the planter box by the sidewalk, resting my chin in my hands. I knew what Holden meant. I was painfully average. I wasn’t an overachiever. I blended into the crowd. I lacked discipline, loved to eat and sleep, and had no goals or plans for the future. The person he liked had always been Stella Montgomery. They were the shining stars of the pre-law program, perfectly matching each other’s brilliance. She was exceptional, independent, and had her own strong opinions. She would certainly never act like me—pathetically chasing after a man who didn’t love her. After that, I disappeared from Holden’s world. You have to know when you’re not wanted. 7 Later, my friends asked me, What exactly do you like about Holden Crawford? Is it just his face? He treats you like that, why are you so obsessed? Why? Maybe it was because of that time I was walking back to my dorm from off-campus, and I saw him in the woods near the North Gate, feeding a stray cat. It was pouring rain. He held an umbrella with one hand, squatting on the muddy ground with meticulous patience, coaxing the filthy, shivering kitten out from under a bush. Then, he gently hid the dirty kitten inside his jacket to keep it dry and took it back to his dorm. His profile in that moment was so incredibly gentle. I stared at him in a daze. Even though I was holding an umbrella, I felt like a torrential downpour had just flooded my heart. I wanted to tell him that I was a stray cat, too. I was abandoned by my parents when I was little, and I grew up wandering just like that. If he could be so gentle to a filthy stray kitten, would he ever look at me with that same tender expression? But thinking about it now… he gave all his tenderness to everyone except me. 8 Holden came back a week later. I had been lying on the living room couch for a week. But it was strange. He obviously had his keys, yet he stood at the door, knocking persistently. As if someone was going to jump out and open it for him. When I was alive, every time he came back from a business trip, I would time it perfectly and wait by the door. Sometimes his flight would be delayed, so I’d sit on the stairs. The moment his silhouette appeared, I’d practically tackle him, wrapping my arms around his neck in sheer joy. Because every day we were apart, I missed him terribly. He would pry my hands off his neck and say coldly, “Stop messing around.” I would always prepare a lavish dinner. I knew he didn’t eat well during his business dinners, and his stomach was ruined from his younger days. So, my specialty was making soothing, easy-to-digest comfort food. He must have been knocking for a while because Mrs. Higgins, our next-door neighbor, opened her door and said, “Holden, you’re back from your trip?” “Stop knocking. Harper isn’t home. I haven’t seen her in almost a week.” “Did you forget your keys? Harper left a spare with me just in case you ever forgot yours and she wasn’t home. Do you need it?” After a moment, I heard Holden’s voice. It sounded like it was being squeezed from the very depths of his throat—hoarse and low. He said, “No need.” He used his own key to open the door. Then he stood frozen in the entryway. He had left in a hurry the day of his trip. The balcony curtains were drawn, making the apartment look dark and gloomy. The spray roses on the coffee table had completely withered and died. The house was a mess: a half-empty teapot, molding fruit in a bowl, a half-eaten bag of chips, and fine dust floating in the stagnant air. Oh, and my ashes. Placed in the complimentary small box from the crematorium, sitting right next to the dead spray roses. When I was alive, the house had never been this messy. Because this was our home. We were both people without families. When we finally built this little nest, I cherished it deeply. I always kept it comfortable and spotless. God knows how badly we both wanted a home. He stood there for a very long time before finally stepping inside. He pulled back the curtains. My clothes were still hanging on the drying rack on the balcony. He froze for a second. Just when I thought he was going to throw my clothes into the trash, he took them down, folded them on the couch, and started mopping the floor and cleaning the apartment. I never knew the house could be this quiet. It felt like, aside from the sound of breathing, there was absolutely nothing else. After finishing all those chores, he sat exhaustedly on the couch alone. I studied him closely. He had lost a lot of weight on this trip. His eyes were bloodshot, and his stubble was unkempt. He was a high-powered, immaculate lawyer. Had his case with Stella Montgomery not gone well? Just as I was thinking that, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it. He had actually quit smoking a long time ago. I don’t know why he started again. He leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling. His eyes were wide open—hollow, cold, devoid of emotion. He smoked one cigarette after another. Then, for some reason, he spaced out again, until the ash from the cigarette fell onto his palm, startling him back to reality. After a long time, I saw his lips move. I drifted closer and heard him whisper, so softly: “Harper.” That name… it was spoken so faintly, it felt like a hallucination.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “411839”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The day I picked up my husband’s medical diagnosis, I caught him secretly installing a hidden camera in our master bedroom. That night, I watched him through the crack in the door as he made a solemn vow on the phone: “I won’t touch her again. I’ve sent you the account logins and passwords. You can check them anytime.” “I’ve decided to save myself for love.” Looking at his flushed, impassioned face, I silently fed his medical report into the paper shredder. Save yourself for love, huh? Well then, you can save yourself for the rest of your life. 01 When the letters [ALS] on Arthur’s medical report came into view, my knees nearly gave out. Three months ago, Arthur had taken a bad fall while hiking. During his hospital stay, I insisted the doctors run a comprehensive full-body workup, just for peace of mind. I never expected a result like this. “Currently, there is no cure for Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis. We can only use medication to slow the progression of the disease, but the ultimate outcome is irreversible.” The doctor looked at me with deep sympathy. Arthur was barely in his early thirties. Handsome, in his prime, and at the peak of his career. As one of the most prominent divorce attorneys in the state, he was shrewd, decisive, and brutally rational—the elite of the elite. His private life was simple and disciplined; he loved the gym and hiking, and he had extremely high standards for his quality of life. To think that a man like him would eventually become a completely paralyzed ALS patient… I couldn’t bear to imagine it. I sat on a bench on the sidewalk, watching the endless stream of traffic for a long time before slowly standing up. I had made up my mind. Since we were husband and wife, we should face everything together. No matter what he became, I would take our son and stand by his side. It was already dark by the time I got home. Our son, Leo, was quietly playing chess in his room. At seven years old, he had reached the level of a five-dan amateur and had even been interviewed by a local news station as a “child prodigy.” “Have you eaten?” I asked him gently, trying to compose myself. “Yes. The nanny made ribs and lotus root soup today.” He didn’t look at me, his eyes glued to the chessboard. “Where’s Dad?” “He went for a run.” Leo had a quiet personality and spoke concisely. He took after us. Two hours later, I was leaning against the headboard, debating whether or not to tell Arthur about his diagnosis when he finally walked in. Dressed in sleek black running gear, he looked striking and capable. I felt a sudden spike of anxiety. “It’s freezing outside, why are you wearing so little?” One of the precautions the doctor had given me today was that ALS patients generate less body heat due to muscle atrophy and must avoid getting cold, as it accelerates the disease’s progression. Arthur remained expressionless and said flatly: “This is what you wear when you run.” He proceeded to open a small box he was holding, took out a camera, and began setting it up on the dresser opposite the bed. Pointing directly at the bed. I was confused. “Why are you suddenly installing a camera?” “There have been some burglaries in the neighborhood. It’s safer to have surveillance.” “Aren’t you worried about privacy?” I asked hesitantly. After all, Arthur was someone who was obsessively protective of his personal space. He glanced at me and scoffed: “Privacy? Who would be interested in your privacy?” A tangled mess of emotions churned in my chest, but I didn’t have the energy to argue with him. When it was time to sleep, he lay down with his back to me, staying on the far edge of the mattress, looking completely exhausted and unwilling to communicate. I sighed softly to myself. He had just wrapped up a highly publicized celebrity divorce case. With the sudden release of pressure, I should let him relax for a bit. In the middle of the night, I woke up suddenly, my heart racing. The space beside me was empty. Arthur wasn’t there. A wave of panic hit me, and I got out of bed to find him. Out on the balcony, he was standing in his thin pajamas, talking on the phone in the cold night wind. I grabbed a jacket and started walking toward him. “I won’t touch her again…” His hushed voice drifted over, and I stopped in my tracks. “I’ve sent you the passwords and the accounts. You can log in and check anytime.” “I’ve decided to save myself for love.” Through the glass door, I stared blankly at Arthur. His usually cold, indifferent face was currently surging with incredibly intense emotion. Watching his flushed, impassioned face, my brain slowly processed the logic behind his words. For a moment, I felt like I was looking at a stranger. 02 Arthur had always had a very high sex drive. During the day, he was abstinent and disciplined, but at night, he demanded a lot. In recent years, as the pressure on him skyrocketed, he had to be meticulous and airtight in everything he said and did. Consequently, he closed himself off more and more. It was only during our intimate moments at night, when he was breathless and passionate against my ear, that I could catch a glimpse of the boy who used to blush when he looked at me. We met in grad school. He chased me. This cold, arrogant man only had burning eyes and a trembling voice for me. I fell for him quickly. Later, I stayed on at the university as a psychology professor. He started as an associate attorney and climbed his way up to partner, becoming a nationally renowned divorce lawyer making an eight-figure salary. We shared many personality traits: Emotionally stable, pragmatic, objective and calm, valuing a high quality of life, and willing to work hard for our goals. My job was stable and respectable, allowing me to balance work and family; his career was wildly successful, soaring in his field. Married for eight years, we treated each other with mutual respect and support, living in a multi-million dollar penthouse with a worry-free “child prodigy” son. It was, by all accounts, an enviable family. However, about six months ago, he suddenly started changing. He had a habit of going for night runs. It used to be out the door by 8:00 PM, home by 9:00 PM, followed by a shower and exactly half an hour of family time. Like clockwork. But six months ago, he suddenly started leaving at 7:00 PM and not returning until 10:00 PM. When he got back, he always seemed exhausted, going straight to bed after his shower, naturally canceling our family time. I asked him why his night runs were taking so long. He pursed his lips and said flatly, “I hit a wall with a case. Staying out a bit longer helps clear my head.” Mental labor can sometimes be more exhausting than physical labor. I understood. Later, he also suddenly seemed to lose interest in sex. I assumed the immense pressure was affecting him physically. Afraid of hurting his pride, I never brought it up, but I was deeply worried about him. That was also why, when he injured himself in a fall, I strongly urged him to take a leave of absence to recover properly, and asked the doctors to run a full-body checkup. But looking at it now, the situation wasn’t what I thought at all… I lay back in bed, staring wide-eyed into the darkness, quietly looking at the ceiling. The words he just spoke made him feel like a stranger, and the expression on his face made everything feel surreal. To the point where, having suffered two massive blows in one day, my overwhelming curiosity actually suppressed the sadness and anger I should have been feeling. I was genuinely curious. What kind of woman was on the other end of that phone call? To make Arthur, a man who had trained himself to be ruthlessly rational over the years, act like that? I’ve always been a direct person. The very next night, I slipped a sleeping pill into his glass of warm milk. 03 He slept heavily. I pressed his finger against the sensor and unlocked his phone. Finding the number he had called the night before, I stared at it for a long time before certain neurons finally connected. I had seen this number before. Three months ago, after Arthur fell while hiking and was hospitalized, I went to the police to get the contact information of the person who found him and called 911, wanting to express my gratitude. This was the number the police had given me. I have an excellent memory, especially for numbers. I couldn’t be wrong. I had called the number right there in front of the officer. A woman answered. Her voice was gentle and polite, but she sounded like she was in her late thirties or forties. She softly declined my offer to meet, saying there was no need for thanks, and that it was just what any decent person would do. After hanging up, the police officer chuckled and told me that while someone else might have accepted a reward, she definitely wouldn’t. I asked why. The officer said he recognized her during questioning. She had once been featured on the news as the “Most Beautiful and Resilient Woman.” “She’s had a hard life. Her husband suffered a massive stroke on their wedding day and was completely paralyzed, leaving behind a seven-year-old son from a previous marriage. She never left his side, feeding him and cleaning up after him for thirteen years, and raised that boy all by herself. Her husband passed away last year, and she finally caught a break. Now she runs a little food stall outside the suburban park, selling lamb stew.” “A woman with her moral character? She’d never accept your reward money.” At the time, I nodded in admiration. “My husband was truly lucky to have been found by her.” Now, in the dead of night, I stared at his phone for a long time before opening his photo album. I don’t know if Arthur was overconfident or just assumed I completely trusted him, but he hadn’t made any effort to hide anything. The screen was filled with photos of a woman. The exact same woman. Under the starry night sky, a brightly lit, steaming food stall. The woman had gentle eyes and a radiant smile, whether she was chopping ingredients, serving soup, or chatting with customers. Every single picture exuded warmth and a sense of peaceful domesticity. Across hundreds of photos, the woman’s wardrobe changed from short-sleeved summer dresses to heavy winter coats. The timeline spanned six months. On the third day, I went to the suburban park and sat down at the small stall with a sign reading “Linda’s Lamb Stew.” I watched the woman named Linda from a short distance away. She was squatting by a planter, speaking softly to a stray cat. Two men standing in front of her stall joked: “Linda, you only have eyes for these little cats and dogs, you aren’t even trying to make money anymore.” Linda hurriedly stood up, smiling apologetically as she explained gently: “I’m so sorry, I just feel so bad for them. I got too distracted and didn’t see you.” One of the men waved his hand dismissively. “You’re doing a good deed. These strays treat your stall like home because they know you have a soft heart and will always give them food. It’s a heartwarming sight, we enjoy seeing it.” After the two men left, I walked over. “One bowl of lamb stew, please.” Linda said “Sure thing!” and cheerfully served me a bowl. Through the rising steam, I quietly studied her. She looked to be in her mid-thirties, with fine lines branching out from the corners of her eyes. While she lacked the youthful allure of a younger girl, her features were soft and tranquil. Her hair was tied back casually in a low ponytail, with loose strands framing her face, giving her a distinct, gentle femininity. “Sister, it’s your first time here. Let me give you a few extra pieces of lamb to try.” I sat at a small table, slowly tasting the stew. My mind constantly wrestled with one question. A person like Linda, with her background and moral character… Would she really do something like destroying someone else’s family? Would she? 04 My vision blurred for a second, and Linda was sitting down across from me. I was slightly taken aback. She smiled gently, her bright eyes looking right at me: “You’re Arthur’s wife, aren’t you?” I put my spoon down and met her gaze silently. “So you know who I am.” She smiled. “I have a good memory. I saw you once on Arthur’s phone screen and recognized you.” I frowned, remembering. Arthur’s lock screen used to be a picture of me and our son. It was only six months ago that he suddenly changed it to a landscape. She lowered her eyes, stayed silent for a few seconds, then looked at me and spoke. “I know why you’re here. You probably think Arthur and I are having an affair, right?” I didn’t say anything. She slowly looked up, her expression warm and sincere. “Sister, if you trust me… we aren’t. Arthur and I are completely innocent. Our only interaction is that he stops by for a bowl of soup after his run.” At this, a look of distress crossed her brow. “Later, I noticed he seemed down when he came for his soup. He wouldn’t talk to anyone and looked like he was under a lot of pressure, so out of the goodness of my heart, I tried to comfort him a few times. I never expected… sigh, he probably misunderstood.” “He started saying some inappropriate things, but I just found it ridiculous. Not only is he a married man, but even if he were single, a man of his status wouldn’t look twice at someone like me.” “I told him he was just acting on impulse, but he wouldn’t listen. In fact, he got increasingly out of line. Sometimes, completely ignoring my wishes, he would call me and say the most absurd things.” “Actually, even if you hadn’t come looking for me, I was planning on finding you to talk. Arthur must be under too much pressure to act so crazily and irrationally. As his wife, maybe you could help him more.” I stared at the layer of white fat slowly congealing around the edge of my bowl. “So what you’re saying is, all these things are just Arthur’s unrequited obsession, and you’ve actually been trying to reject him this whole time?” Linda let out a long, mournful sigh and slowly nodded. I looked up at her and asked slowly: “So, him installing a camera in our master bedroom for you to monitor… was that also an impulsive act that he forced upon you against your will?” Linda froze for a second, then quickly said, “I’ve already scolded him for that! It was completely out of line!” I continued: “What about the time you guys went hiking together? When he fell down the mountain because you said your feet hurt and he tried to carry you… did he force you to go against your will that time too?” Linda’s pupils dilated, and she stood up abruptly. “Hiking? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I looked at her coldly. “Didn’t you say you have a good memory? I even called you to thank you that time. Have you forgotten already?” Just then, a customer shouted, “Large order to go!” Linda pressed her lips together and practically jogged back to her stall, her movements stiff as she grabbed a large ladle to serve the soup. “CLANG—” With a massive crash, the entire hot pot full of lamb stew tipped over, spilling steaming broth and meat all over the ground. The boiling soup splashed onto her, and Linda let out a sharp cry, her eyes instantly welling up with tears. The customer cursed, jumped back, muttered about bad luck, and stormed off. Looking at the mess in front of me, I didn’t want to get a drop of grease on myself, so I picked up my bag to leave. Red-eyed, she suddenly called out. “I’m sorry!” I stopped and frowned at her. She stood there miserably, sobbing softly. “I’m sorry, I did keep that from you. That day, I was upset because my stepson had been fighting, and he happened to show up. He said going for a hike would cheer me up, so I went. After he fell, I was terrified. I called 911, but I didn’t dare meet you because I was afraid you’d misunderstand.” Her eyes were bloodshot, tears streaming down her face, and her hands had immediately developed large blisters from the hot soup that splashed on her. She looked utterly pitiful. “Evelyn, what are you doing?!” A furious yell came from behind me. I turned my head to see Arthur sprinting toward us, his face flushed with anger. For a moment, I was stunned. It had been a very, very long time since I had seen such intense emotion on his face. He was wearing the blue suit he only wore for major negotiations, which meant he had rushed over in the middle of an important professional event. Yet when I was in a car accident and called him, he insisted on finishing his negotiation before coming to the hospital. Arthur glared furiously at the mess on the ground, then at the softly sobbing Linda. He pressed his lips tightly together and took a few deliberate steps to her side. He lowered his head, quietly looking at the wretched and helpless woman before him. Suddenly, he pulled her into a fierce embrace. “Are you okay?” “Did she hurt you?” Linda buried her face in his chest and suddenly burst into tears, crying as if she had been deeply wronged. Arthur closed his eyes in pain and said softly: “Don’t cry! Linda, don’t cry! Remember what you always say? The boat has passed ten thousand mountains. Your suffering is over, completely over! Nothing else will ever make Linda shed a single tear!” From beginning to end. Arthur didn’t spare me a single glance. 05 I took out my phone, pointed it at them, and snapped several photos in quick succession. The crisp “click-click” sound echoed. Linda abruptly pulled out of Arthur’s embrace, stepping back a few paces, looking regretful and panicked, as if she had just realized what she was doing. She looked at me frantically, scrambling to explain: “I forgot, I didn’t mean to, I—” She couldn’t finish her sentence. Because I was just looking at her indifferently. “You don’t need to say a single word. I’m here.” Arthur cut her off in a low voice, turned to me, and instantly regained his usual calm, composed demeanor, looking like the sharp-eyed attorney he was. “Evelyn, whatever it is, we’ll talk about it at home. This is very close to your university, and there are many people from your school passing through the park. Making a scene here will make you look bad. Besides…” He glanced at the messy ground. “Bullying a lonely, helpless woman, is that fun for you?” I looked at him coldly, my voice steady. “So you know there are people from my school coming and going here. Yet as my husband, hugging a widow here like dry wood on a fire… did you find that exciting?” Arthur’s eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of shock amidst his indignation. After all, I had always been gentle, elegant, and composed in front of him. He had never seen this side of me before. Even I hadn’t. “Even though I’m not the type to just slap you right now, don’t try to pin your shit on my head.” I turned to Linda, who was silently cleaning up the mess. “Ms. Linda, so you not saying anything… are you actually planning on doing that?” She trembled slightly, and after a few seconds, she slowly lifted her chin and said loudly: “Never mind, stop fighting! It wasn’t her, I knocked it over myself. Is that enough?” Red-eyed, she looked at Arthur with grievance: “Arthur, please take your wife and leave now. Don’t interfere with my business. I won’t be accepting your business from now on either. Please don’t come back!” A few customers gradually approached. “What’s going on here? Why is it such a mess!” “Linda, is someone bullying you? Who is it?” “Who dares to bully Linda! I’ll be the first to teach them a lesson!” Various hostile glares landed on me. Arthur’s eyes darkened, and he grabbed my arm, pulling me toward the parking lot. I couldn’t shake him off, so I had to follow him. We ran into an acquaintance from the university carrying a basketball, who smiled and greeted me. “Professor Sterling!” I smiled and nodded. “Hello.” 06 Once in the parking lot, I forcefully shook off his hand and walked calmly to my own car. As trees flew past on both sides, I drove on the main road, and tears finally began to fall uncontrollably. I gave myself half an hour. Anger, pain, acceptance, calm… Then I turned the steering wheel and headed for the bank. Arthur and I had a joint family account where we both deposited our salaries, dividends, and returns. When we originally opened it, he smiled and told me: “Didn’t you always complain that I’m not affectionate enough? This account is for you to manage. I’ll just be responsible for putting money into it, as a guarantee for you and our son’s future. Are you satisfied with this expression of love?” Over the past few years, the account balance had accumulated to over 18 million. The bank teller informed me with confusion: “This account has been frozen due to a guarantee default. Didn’t you know?” My hands and feet suddenly went cold as I slowly asked: “When did this happen?” “Two months ago.” Two months ago… That was right after he was discharged from the hospital, when I was completely exhausted from taking care of him and had a high fever for a whole week. While I was practically delirious with sickness, he was already laying the groundwork for divorce and fighting for assets to gain the upper hand. I felt it was both ironic and ridiculous. On the way here, I was actually regretting being too impulsive and showing my cards before having an escape route. But it turned out he had started scheming against me long ago. When a man changes his heart, he can be truly ruthless! It was pitch black by the time I got home. Arthur was sitting on the couch in his pajamas, drinking tea with his usual calm expression. He glanced at me. “I sent Leo to my mom’s place. Let’s settle things clearly all at once.” I sat down and stared at him in silence. He took a sip of tea and slowly began: “I originally planned to discuss this later. After all, I felt somewhat guilty and wanted to let you and our son enjoy a happy life for as long as possible. However, since you chose to go and cause a scene today, I can only give you what you want.” “Evelyn, I’ve fallen in love with someone else. Let’s get a divorce!” I was extremely calm, even giving him a slight smile. “Arthur, can you tell me exactly what you love about her so much that you chose to betray a 10-year relationship and abandon your wife and child?” He frowned slightly. “If you insist on asking for details…” After a moment of silence, he spoke slowly in a gentle and emotional tone: “Because of my work over the past few years, I’ve seen too much deception in marriages. I lost a normal understanding and judgment of love and marriage long ago. But after meeting her, I realized that there really are women like this. Purely out of love and responsibility, she didn’t hesitate to dedicate the best ten-plus years of her youth. She brought vitality to my heavy, stagnant, suffocating life.” “You ask what I love about her? I’ve asked myself that question countless times.” “Because she’s gentle, kind, and strong. Because life gave her hardship, yet she stubbornly bloomed like a flower from the mud. Because of every cold night, the bowl of hot soup she handed me.” As he finished this long speech, emotions surged across his face, seemingly having moved himself. The room fell into silence. After a long while, I clicked my tongue softly. “So the soup the nanny makes isn’t hot? You have to go outside to get a taste of something fishy?” Arthur froze, his face instantly turning cold. “Evelyn, you are a sophisticated egoist. You wouldn’t understand this kind of emotion.” I nodded. “Since that’s the case, you leave with nothing, and I agree to the divorce.” A distinct look of mockery appeared on his face. “Not to mention there’s no such thing as ‘leaving with nothing’ in the law. Taking a step back, Linda and I have had absolutely no physical relationship. I’m not even the at-fault party.” I gazed at him, silent for a long time. Can a person really change this completely? Flipping out so ruthlessly, as if suddenly swapping souls! Arthur seemed to guess what I was thinking and slightly furrowed his brow: “You don’t need to act like this. When feelings are gone, divorce is the natural next step. When I fell down the mountain and was waiting for rescue, I thought it through clearly. Life is short, and I don’t want to cower and be afraid to love. Even if I bear infamy and condemnation, I have to risk everything to truly live once.” “Evelyn, don’t forget what I do for a living. I have too many methods; it’s just a matter of whether I want to use them on you or not.” I started to laugh softly. “You haven’t used them on me? Didn’t you already use them? Playing dirty tricks like freezing the account, aren’t you afraid of desecrating your noble and pure love!” Arthur glanced at me and said lightly: “I see you went to check the account. It’s nothing, just standard operating procedure, just to prevent any unexpected twists during the divorce.” “I’ve already drafted the divorce agreement. I keep the money and our son, and you get the house. Of course, you’ll have to handle the remaining mortgage yourself.” “From the perspective of financial contribution to the family, this proposal is already exceedingly generous—” “Thud!” I grabbed the ashtray on the table and hurled it at him. He covered his forehead. Bright red blood flowed out from between his fingers.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “411855”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel