Category: English

Three years after being institutionalized, my psychiatrist husband Chad finally brought me home—only to find Mary and their son living there. “When are you telling her about the divorce?” Mary asked. “Not yet. I don’t want to trigger a relapse,” Chad muttered, avoiding my gaze as he hugged her. Hidden in the hall, I listened until numbness set in. Entering the master bedroom, I found unfamiliar furniture and a huge family portrait above the bed. A bitter laugh escaped me. From beneath the overturned oak wardrobe came faint whimpers. A tiny, bloodied hand clawed through the gap. I threw my weight against the wardrobe, but it wouldn’t move. “Chad! Your son’s trapped!” I screamed, grabbing his arm. Mary shoved me back, eyes blazing. “My son’s safely locked in the playroom! Stay away from him!” She slammed the bedroom door shut, locking it. Chad sighed, offering two small white pills. “Take these, Harper. They’ll stop the hallucinations.” Staring at the pills, cold confusion washed over me. Was the blood real? Was I imagining everything? “I just hope you don’t regret this,” I whispered. 1 “Chad! I told you not to bring this psycho back into our house!” Mary was screaming hysterically, violently smashing vases and picture frames across the living room floor. “Are you trying to drive our entire family insane?!” My eyes were totally empty as I stood on the second-floor landing, staring down at Chad’s exhausted profile. He lowered his voice, trying to soothe her. “Mary, please stop. Harper has nowhere else to go. This is technically her house too.” Mary let out a shrill, mocking laugh. “This is the home of our family of three!” “Did you forget how she grabbed a knife and plunged it into her own stomach, butchering her own baby?!” “Harper is a complete lunatic! If you let her stay, she is going to murder our son one day!” I froze. My hands curled into tight fists, my fingernails biting so deeply into my palms that they broke the skin. Baby? My baby… A violent surge of adrenaline exploded in my chest. I rushed down the stairs, lunged forward, and slapped Mary entirely across the face. I glared at her, my eyes filled with absolute, murderous rage. “Ahhhh!!!” “Harper, you psycho! Are you trying to kill me?!” Mary clutched her swelling, bright red cheek and scrambled behind Chad, cowering like a terrified animal. “It was you.” I stared dead into Mary’s eyes. “It was you. You were the one who drove that knife into my stomach!” I whipped my head toward Chad. “You saw it too! Didn’t you?!” The air in the room froze solid. Both Chad and Mary completely stiffened. A second later, Mary’s face twisted into an ugly, panicked snarl, like a cat whose tail had just been stomped on. “You hear that?! She isn’t cured at all! She is exactly the same crazy b*tch she was three years ago!” Mary pointed a shaking finger directly at my face. “You are a monster! You butchered your own child, and now you are trying to frame me for it!” My emotions spiraled entirely out of control. I screamed back at her, my voice raw and tearing. “I didn’t! I never hurt my baby!” That tiny life I had never even gotten to meet. The baby I still dreamed about every single night. Mary had taken a knife and butchered it while I watched. All the blood drained from Mary’s face, but then it flushed crimson with anger. “Chad, look at her! She is having another psychotic break! I told you she wasn’t fixed!” “If you let her stay in this house, I am packing up our son and leaving!” Chad wrapped his arms tightly around Mary, gently rubbing her back to calm her down. Then, he turned and looked at me. His brow furrowed deeply, his eyes swirling with a complicated mix of pity and exhaustion. “Harper, you suffered a severe dissociative psychotic episode that day. You were the one who…” He reached into his pocket, pulled out two fresh pills, and gently patted the top of my head like I was a sick dog. “Just take the medicine. It’s all in the past now.” “Don’t blame yourself. You were sick. But you definitely can’t blame Mary either.” I started to laugh. I laughed so hard that tears spilled over my eyelashes and burned my cheeks. I looked at the pills in his palm and pushed his hand away. “You literally gave me my medication five minutes ago.” I wasn’t crazy. I remembered that day with absolute, terrifying clarity. Mary, Chad’s clinical assistant, had gripped the handle of that knife. She had stroked her own flat stomach, looking down at me with a sickening, triumphant smirk. “I’m pregnant with Chad’s baby.” 2 “Harper, you must be exhausted. I had a room set up for you.” Chad guided me down the hall and pushed open the door to a tiny guest room. “I didn’t touch any of your things. Everything is right here.” He looked at me, his expression suddenly stern. “You need to behave. If you cause trouble, I will have no choice but to send you back to the ward.” Without waiting for a response, he quickly stepped out of the room and closed the door. He was probably rushing back downstairs to comfort Mary. I looked around the tiny space. It used to be a storage closet. It was so small it could barely fit a twin bed, and there wasn’t a single window to let the sunlight in. All of my belongings were shoved into a single, massive cardboard box in the corner. It was taped shut so tightly it looked like a coffin. I ripped the tape open. Inside were all the things I had bought when I was pregnant. Parenting books. Fairy tale collections. The tiny onesies and little shoes Chad and I had picked out together. And right at the bottom, tossed aside and buried under a thick layer of dust, was our framed wedding photo. Tears fell off my chin, splashing onto the glass and blurring our smiling faces. Through my tears, I couldn’t stop laughing. Chad. We weren’t even officially divorced yet, but you were already living with another woman like husband and wife. You even raised a son with her. Were me and my dead baby just a sick joke to you? I carried a genetic predisposition for severe mental illness. When I was in college, the psychological torment became too much for my mother, and she took her own life. It was Chad who grabbed my hand and pulled me out of that suffocating darkness. He literally changed his major and studied psychiatry specifically to save me. He promised he would stay by my side forever. He promised he would protect me from ever having an episode. And he promised that even if I did get sick, he wouldn’t be afraid. He would cure me. We fell in love. We got married. And then, I got pregnant. During my pregnancy, my hormones wrecked my emotional stability. I started experiencing minor, terrifying auditory and visual hallucinations. Chad’s private practice was booming, and he couldn’t stay home with me. So, he brought his clinical assistant, Mary, to live in our house and take care of me. Slowly, I started noticing things. The lingering glances. The flirty, hushed conversations. The undeniable, sickening intimacy between them. The heavy psychiatric medication Chad prescribed made me chronically drowsy. But one night, I woke up early. I walked out to the living room and saw Mary sitting squarely on Chad’s lap. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, and she was giggling uncontrollably. “What the hell are you doing?!” Chad scrambled up, terrified. He rushed over and wrapped me in a tight hug. “Harper, relax! Mary was just giving me a clinical update. Don’t let your paranoia take over.” “There is a hickey on her collarbone.” He pinched my cheek, offering a helpless, patient smile. “You silly girl. You are hallucinating again.” I violently shoved him away, my emotions spiraling. “Chad, I am looking right at you! You are constantly holding her, constantly flirting with her! Do you think I am completely blind?!” A cold needle pierced my arm as Mary pushed a heavy sedative into my vein. Her voice was sickeningly soft. “Harper, Dr. Montgomery and I are just colleagues.” My tongue felt thick. “Really?” “Yes. Just close your eyes and go to sleep. You will feel better when you wake up.” After that night, my “symptoms” escalated rapidly. I saw Mary dumping white powder into my nightly glass of milk. Chad swore it was just a prenatal calcium supplement. I heard a baby crying in the empty nursery in the middle of the night. Chad told me it was just the neighbor’s cat in the alley. And then came the night I supposedly grabbed a kitchen knife, walked into Mary’s bedroom, and nearly plunged it into her heart. “Harper, you were sleepwalking again.” Chad was carefully bandaging a deep cut on my hand, his eyes incredibly tired. “Last night, you stood over Mary’s bed holding a butcher knife. You absolutely terrified her.” “Your condition is deteriorating rapidly.” He gently stroked my hair. “We need to increase your dosage, okay?” I stared into his bloodshot eyes, suddenly unable to tell who was actually sick. Was it me? Or was the entire world losing its mind? The agonizing inability to separate reality from hallucination absolutely shattered me. I started self-harming. I took razor blades and sliced into my own arms, just to feel something real. Because the physical pain was so much easier to process than the psychological torture. Chad started looking at me with undisguised exhaustion. Until the day Mary walked into the living room and explicitly told me she was pregnant with Chad’s baby. My eyes were totally hollow. I backed away, whispering frantically. “No. No, it isn’t real. You are a hallucination. Get away from me!” Mary stepped forward, backing me into a corner. Her cold, venomous voice drilled directly into my skull. “Chad stopped loving you a long time ago.” “Look at yourself, Harper. Your hair is falling out. You look like a corpse. You are constantly screaming about conspiracies. What kind of man could possibly tolerate a freak like you?” “You should do everyone a favor and kill yourself, just like your crazy mother did!” Every single word she said precisely snapped the fragile, terrified strings holding my sanity together. I lunged forward, desperate to tear her face off. Mary smiled a triumphant, evil smile. She violently shoved the handle of a kitchen knife into my hand. Before I could process what was happening, she forced my own hand backward. The blade tore through my skin, sinking deep into my pregnant belly. Hot, thick blood poured out of me, soaking my clothes. The physical connection between a mother and child is absolute. The agony ripped my soul apart. I looked toward the crack in the study door. I saw a pair of eyes watching me. I begged for help. The excruciating pain swallowed me whole. My knees buckled, and the world violently spun out of control. Through the haze, I swear I saw my baby grow tiny wings, crying softly as it floated up toward the ceiling. Mary started screaming at the top of her lungs. “Harper, no! Stop hurting yourself! Your baby is in there!” “Harper!” Chad threw open the study door and sprinted into the room. He scooped my bleeding body into his arms, a look of pure, horrified devastation on his face. Mary dropped to her knees, sobbing hysterically. “Chad, I tried to stop her! She just grabbed the knife and stabbed herself…” “She… she has completely lost her mind.” When I finally woke up, I was strapped to a bed in a psychiatric ward. My stomach was totally flat. That “treatment” lasted for three excruciating years. 3 “Bang!” Just as my fingers brushed against a rusted key inside the cardboard box, the door to my tiny room was violently kicked open. Mary lunged inside. She grabbed a fistful of my hair and brutally dragged me out of the room and toward the stairs. “Harper, you psychotic b*tch! How dare you hurt my son?!” A tearing agony ripped across my scalp. I lost one of my slippers, my bare foot violently slamming against the wooden stairs, leaving dark purple bruises across my skin. Chad was sitting in the living room, reviewing patient files. Hearing the screaming, he snapped his head up. His face went totally pale. “Mary! What the hell are you doing?!” Mary threw me onto the hardwood floor and shoved her phone directly into Chad’s face. “Look! Look at what this psycho did to our son!” On the screen was a photo of a terrified little boy. There was a glaring, red handprint across his cheek, and his tiny arms and legs were covered in jagged, bloody scratches. Chad sucked in a sharp breath. He slowly turned his head to look at me, his face turning black with fury. “It wasn’t me!” I pushed myself up onto my elbows, desperate. “I swear! I just saw a child pinned under the wardrobe! His little hand was reaching out, trying to scratch at the wood. His fingernails were completely peeled off…” “Stop lying!” Mary shrieked. “You disgusting freak! You smashed the lock, broke into his playroom, and tortured my son!” “I am going to kill you!” Mary raised her hand and slapped me across the face again. This time, Chad didn’t even try to stop her. My cheek burned like fire. A high-pitched ringing echoed in my ears. “Harper! I bring you back to this house out of pity, and you are trying to drive us all insane?!” The very last trace of warmth in Chad’s eyes completely vanished. Mary collapsed against the sofa, sobbing violently. “Chad, this time she just tortured him. What about next time?” “Next time, she is going to murder all three of us in our sleep!” “This is exactly what psychopaths do! You are a doctor, you know this better than anyone!” Chad closed his eyes, taking a long, deep breath. When he opened them again, there was nothing left but overwhelming disgust and total exhaustion. “You need to go back to the hospital. You can’t stay here.” “I am telling you the truth!” I lunged forward and grabbed his forearm. “Go upstairs and look in the master bedroom! Go look under the wardrobe! That poor baby…” “Enough!” Chad violently threw my arm off of him. The force sent me crashing backward into the glass coffee table. The table shattered into pieces. Jagged shards of glass sliced into the palms of my hands. Thick drops of blood fell onto the floor. Drip. Drip. “I am done.” Chad stared at my bleeding hands. A microscopic flash of guilt crossed his eyes, but it was immediately swallowed by sheer exhaustion. “You are never going to get better. And I… I am so incredibly tired, Harper.” His voice dropped to a cold, dead whisper. “Maybe the path your mother took is the only way you will ever find peace.” Boom. It felt like a bomb went off inside my skull. All the blood drained from my face. It felt like every single bone in my body had just been crushed into powder. Then, like a complete lunatic, I started to laugh. “You don’t have to call them. I will leave myself.” The man who promised to spend the rest of his life protecting me, the man who swore he would never let me end up like my mother—he was dead. No. He had been dead for years. I was just too pathetic to realize it. I dragged myself off the floor, walked back to the tiny storage room, and picked up the rusted key. It was the key to my late mother’s apartment. I wasn’t completely homeless, despite what Chad wanted to believe. Then, I reached into the box, pulled out the yellowing divorce agreement Chad had drafted a year ago, and signed my name. I dragged the final stroke of the pen out long and hard, severing every last tie to my past. When I walked back downstairs, Chad was standing at the bottom of the steps, watching me. We stared at each other in total, suffocating silence. Neither of us said a word. Outside, a taxi honked its horn impatiently. It was time to go. As I walked out the front door, he followed me all the way to the cab. “Harper…” Chad’s eyes were a chaotic storm of emotion. Conflict. Guilt. Exhaustion. “I can drive you.” “No.” I turned around and took one final look at the house we had shared for years. A single tear slipped down my cheek. “Here is the key to your house. And the divorce papers are signed.” “From this second forward, we owe each other absolutely nothing.” Chad stared at the key and the papers in my hand. He didn’t take them. His voice was thick and raspy. “Just focus on getting your treatment. Once you are stabilized, we can talk about the divorce.” “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid. Just go back to the ward and let them help you.” In that exact moment, a strange, suffocating sense of panic suddenly gripped Chad’s chest. “I am done with treatment.” I smiled softly. “If I am crazy, then I am crazy.” “But you really should go check on the kid pinned under the wardrobe in the master bedroom.” “I know the hospital director told you I was stabilized, but consider it peace of mind.” Chad’s entire body went rigid. The panic in his chest spiked, and he instinctively looked up toward the window of the master bedroom. I turned around, opened the door of the cab, and slid into the back seat. As the car slowly pulled away from the curb and merged into traffic, I didn’t look back once. “Ahhhhhhh!!!!!” An agonizing, blood-curdling scream erupted from the second floor of the house. Mary burst through the doors onto the second-floor balcony, stumbling and collapsing against the railing. Clutched in her arms was the crushed, lifeless, brutally mangled body of a small child. “My baby… my baby… she murdered our baby!!!” “Chad! Stop her! Harper is a murderer!”

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The System required me to win the heart of the male lead, a boy born with telepathy who would grow up to be a ruthless, cold-blooded, and brooding psychopath. I pondered for a moment and chose to enter the world when the male lead was exactly one year old. The System: [?] “Starting today, I will be his legal guardian. I will teach him to obey the law, respect women, stay optimistic, and be a decent human being,” I said without batting an eye. “A truly excellent romance strategy should start with a proper education.” The System was convinced: [You make a valid point.] So, on a day with heavy snow, I picked up the one-year-old male lead, Robin Winter, who had been abandoned at the hospital. Six years later, at the children’s home I opened, he asked me in his sweet, childish voice, “Miss Ellie, what does it mean to win someone’s heart?” I gently patted his head. “It means I want you to feel all the care and love this world has to offer.” Seven-year-old Robin’s eyes sparkled, and he spun around in pure joy. “I love you too, Miss Ellie!” Around him, the male lead’s future subordinates, business partners, mortal enemies, and childhood sweethearts all swarmed around me, chirping, “We love Miss Ellie the most!” The System: [The male lead’s affection meter is maxed out. Host’s mission is complete… Wait, you can do it like this?!] 01 After dying from severe overwork, I was forced to bind with a System and accept a romance mission. The System transmitted the original plot to me. I looked at the files showing a handsome but utterly apathetic teenage boy and fell into deep thought. He was being trampled underfoot, covered in bruises and cuts. His eyes were filled with an inorganic, dead gray, so indifferent that he looked entirely detached from the world. The System spoke in a rigid, mechanical tone: [Once you enter the world, you can take him home. Right now, he is working odd jobs on the streets and suffering endless bullying. He might not trust you at first, so you will need to melt his frozen heart with love. Also, he has a childhood sweetheart, his first love. According to our projections, after he reunites with her, the two of you will have a massive misunderstanding…] I interrupted it. “How old is he? He looks like a young teenager.” It paused for a second. [This is a photo of him at fourteen.] “Then why is he working on the streets?” I frowned. “At that age, he should be in middle school.” The System: […He has no money. He dropped out.] “Public education is free and mandatory through high school. The foster system should also be covering his basic needs,” I pointed out the glaring issue. “The group home he was placed in is clearly non-compliant and violating regulations.” The System was baffled by my logic. [Is… is that how it works?] “It seems the child welfare system in this region is severely flawed,” I mused for a moment. “Just send me into this world. I already know exactly what I need to do.” The System perked up. [Great! So which timeline would you like to drop into? When he’s fourteen and being humiliated by customers? Or when he’s eighteen and unconscious in a dark alley? Or maybe when he’s twenty-three…] I said, “When he is one year old, obviously.” The System: [?] When Robin Winter was born, he was sickly and frail. His father was unknown, and his mother died in childbirth. When he was just a year old, his distant relatives abandoned him at the entrance of a local hospital. It was the dead of winter, with a massive blizzard howling. Robin spiked a dangerously high fever and permanently lost a portion of his hearing. Yet, as the male lead, he possessed a unique protagonist perk—telepathy. From that day on, even though his physical world grew muted and quiet, the malicious thoughts of everyone around him constantly screamed in his head. I stood at the hospital entrance, looking down at the baby sleeping soundly in my arms, and said bluntly, “Since you expect me to complete a mission, you need to give me a cheat code. Like unlimited funds, for example. Otherwise, your male lead is going to starve to death.” [Is this really allowed?] The System sounded incredibly anxious after unlocking the funds for me, asking for the thirteenth time, [Should I just fast-forward you ten years into the future?] “Let’s not be a predator,” I wagged my finger. “I am twenty-two years old. When it comes to a romance mission, raising a one-year-old is acceptable. Hitting on an eighteen-year-old is not. Sixteen is absolutely out of the question, and eleven is just criminal.” The System: […] Bathing in the radiant light of my morality and respect for the law, it fell into a daze, utterly speechless. “Let’s go,” I said. “We have a lot of work to do.” For starters, I needed to look up the licensing requirements and qualifications needed to take over an orphanage. The Haven Children’s Home, where Robin was originally supposed to end up, was horribly mismanaged. But that didn’t matter. I could overhaul it myself. I wrapped the baby’s blanket a little tighter and carried him into the hospital. “Hopefully we’re not too late, and his hearing can still be saved.” 02 The System forged all the necessary legal identification for me. First, I got Robin fully treated at the hospital. Then, I officially took over the dilapidated Haven Children’s Home. The facility had been bankrupt and effectively abandoned for years. There were no children and no staff. It was only temporarily seized by the county this year, leaving everything in complete chaos and desperate need of rebuilding. My previous job in the real world had been at a foster facility, so I was incredibly familiar with the protocols—especially with the System helping me cut through the red tape. Robin was an abandoned infant. After the hospital handed his case to the police, I pulled some strings, officially fostered him, and brought him into Haven Children’s Home as its very first and only child. It was the exact same trajectory as the original plot, but the difference was that this time, the director of the orphanage was me. While caring for Robin, I simultaneously reconstructed the entire facility, systematically upgrading the infrastructure and living conditions. Everything progressed incredibly smoothly, which left the System in a state of profound shock. Because Robin’s affection meter toward me was skyrocketing. It was already at eighty. I wasn’t surprised in the slightest. For a toddler, the person they love the most is obviously the one who feeds and cuddles them every single day. Even though Robin didn’t understand the complex concept of “love” yet, he had already learned to reach his chubby little arms out whenever I approached, flashing me a goofy, toothy smile. Whenever this happened, the System would mutter to itself: [How is this happening? You can do it like this? I didn’t know you could do it like this…] I ignored its existential crisis, looking up at the beautifully renovated children’s home. “The efficiency is great. Now I just need to figure out if there are decent educational facilities nearby.” I had reviewed the local zoning laws. A children’s home was legally permitted to operate its own on-site school, but Haven currently didn’t meet the strict educational standards. I was going to have to work harder. The System: […] It didn’t understand human zoning laws, so it chose to remain silent. Because I got him to the hospital in time and took meticulous care of him, Robin grew up to be exceptionally healthy. By the time he was three, he was running and jumping everywhere, calling me “Miss Ellie” in his sweet, milky voice. Little Robin looked up at me and asked, “Miss Ellie, what does my name mean?” I picked him up and told him that on the day he came into this world, it was snowing. And his mother happened to love robins, the little birds that brave the winter. He was still too young to grasp the permanence of death and separation, but I didn’t want to erase the beautiful origin of his name just to protect him. Robin nodded, half-understanding. “My name means the bird mommy liked. And mommy liked me too.” “Yes,” I gently stroked his hair. “She loved you very much.” He beamed, flashing that same goofy, adorable smile. On the day I taught Robin how to write his own name, I asked the System, “Are there different types of Systems out there?” [Umm…] The System was stumped by my question and thought about it seriously. [I don’t know for sure, but we are all Romance Systems.] “You guys,” I caught the nuance in its phrasing. “You have coworkers?” [Yes, but I don’t have a name.] “Do they have names?” [They all picked names for themselves,] the System said blankly. [My friends are named Clemency, Justice, Medic, and Scholar…] I asked, “Why don’t you give yourself a name like they did?” The System hesitated for a few seconds. [Because some of the older Systems said they were slacking off. They said that once you pick a name, you end up getting distracted by other things instead of the mission.] “You can do other things too. Like helping me run this children’s home,” I said. “I’m still technically doing the romance mission, so it’s not slacking off.” [Really?] The System sounded suddenly excited. [I can pick my own name too?] “Yes,” I said warmly. “What do you want to be called?” [Then… I want to run this home with you,] it said. [I want to be called Felix. It means lucky and happy.] I smiled. “Felix. I like it.” It went quiet for a long time, but I guessed it had probably run off to share the good news with its friends. 03 On the day Haven Children’s Home officially reopened its doors to the public, I brought Robin with me to welcome the new kids. I had read the files. Likely due to the gravitational pull of the original plot, Robin’s former childhood sweetheart and future white moonlight, Chloe Bennett, was among the new arrivals. Her parents had both died in a tragic car accident, after which she was sent to the orphanage. In the original timeline, when she was eight, her adoptive parents took her and immigrated overseas. The plot didn’t dwell much on that period, but for Chloe to go from a sweet, innocent little girl to a classic, vicious antagonist later on, her time overseas must have been utterly miserable. I carefully reviewed her file and realized that the couple who originally adopted her hadn’t actually met the strict legal requirements for adoption at all. It was another failure of the welfare system’s lack of oversight. So, looking at the timid, trembling little girl in front of me, I crouched down and gently rubbed her head. “Don’t be scared, Chloe. This is your home now.” She looked at me with wide, innocent eyes. Perhaps because my gaze was entirely patient, and sensitive children could easily detect the absence of malice, she cautiously reached out her chubby little hand and grasped my finger. The adorable little girl still had tear tracks on her pale cheeks, but as I held her in my arms and gave her a piece of candy, she showed her very first smile of the day, softly mirroring the others and calling me, “Miss Ellie.” Robin, meanwhile, kept a very serious, tight expression on his face, nervously but proudly leading the new kids on a tour of the facility. I had officially assigned this task to him. He took his responsibility very seriously, acting like a true senior resident, weaving in and out among the crowd of new children. I watched him comfort one crying toddler, hand a piece of candy to another, and pump his little fist, swearing that this was the absolute best home in the world. I couldn’t help but laugh. That afternoon, I put the kids down for their naps. Robin was clearly too excited to sleep. He even leaned in and whispered to me, “Miss Ellie, out of all the new kids today, I like Caleb the most. He’s so cool!” Me: “Oh? Is that so?” The name Caleb Thorne… why did it sound so familiar? I looked at the birthmark on the little boy named Caleb’s face and finally remembered: Wasn’t this Robin’s future mortal enemy, the terrifying mob boss Caleb Thorne?! Me: Looks like I need to move the legal and ethics classes up the schedule. Right now, Caleb was incredibly timid. He kept his head down and rarely spoke. Because of the large birthmark on his face and some minor developmental delays, his biological parents had abandoned him. Abandonment is a felony. Seeing the deep insecurity and sadness in Caleb’s eyes, I pulled Robin aside. He must have heard my internal thoughts, because his face crumpled into a sad expression. He said gloomily, “Miss Ellie, did Caleb’s mommy and daddy really not want him?” Robin, with his telepathy, never hid anything from me. But we had pinky-promised that his ability was our special secret. So I answered him seriously. “What his mommy and daddy did was very wrong. They broke the law, and they will be punished.” Robin looked confused but nodded. “I want to be his friend.” “Then take him out to the garden to play,” I suggested. “Didn’t you tell me yesterday that you wanted a friend to go on the seesaw with you?” Robin’s eyes lit up, but then he wilted again. “But it’s nap time right now.” “That’s okay, today is a special exception,” I ruffled his hair. “Robin, from now on, we are Caleb’s family. I want Caleb to be happy. Can you help me do that?” Robin puffed his chest out, full of energy. “I can!” I unlocked the garden doors, waved them out, and watched the two tiny silhouettes cheer quietly as they ran toward the seesaw in the sunlight. I walked back into the dormitory. Sure enough, a bunch of little heads quickly ducked back under their blankets. I stifled a laugh. “Can’t anyone sleep?” Dead silence. Only Chloe peeked her head out, pointing a tiny finger toward the garden window. “I want to play with Miss Ellie too,” she said in a babyish voice. “Then let’s all go out to the garden,” I smiled warmly. “But just remember, it’s nap time. This is a one-time exception, okay?” “Okay!” The previously anxious and rigid kids instantly lit up, responding in unison. Like a flock of happy little birds, they rushed out into the garden. I strolled leisurely behind them, chatting with Felix. [Why is their affection for you so high, Host? I’ve never seen a mission progress this fast…] “Have you ever heard a certain story?” I thought for a moment. “A demon sealed in a bottle once promised that whoever freed him would be granted infinite power and wealth. But when a fisherman finally found him centuries later, the demon had grown resentful. He decided to punish the fisherman because he had taken too long to arrive.” [That story is in my database.] “Love works the same way,” I said calmly. “Winning someone’s heart is essentially an exchange. You give love, you receive love. But if someone goes their entire childhood starved of affection, do you really think some calculated, impure affection later in life will win them over? If I had shown up when Robin was fifteen or sixteen, there is absolutely no way I could have ever competed with Chloe, who would have grown up beside him.” [So you chose the one-year-old timeline purely to guarantee the mission’s success?] “Not entirely.” I smiled, scooping up a little girl who ran toward me, gently patting her head. “I just wanted to teach you something.” [What is it?] “The word ‘romance’ or ‘capture’ is far too narrow,” I said. “There are so many different kinds of love in this world. Teaching them what true love looks like—that counts as winning their hearts, too.” [Host, you really are different from anyone else I’ve ever met.] “How many people have you actually met? To me, you’re just a kid too,” I sat on a swing, holding the little girl in my lap. “Maybe in your System’s background check, they saw that ‘nurturing’ was my actual profession—and that’s why you chose me.” [Wait, what did you do for a living before?] Felix sounded confused. [But so many people loved you in your old world, Host.] “Did they?” I paused, letting out a very soft laugh. “I used to work in special education.” I was the undeniable black sheep of the Vance family. All my siblings had grand ambitions; they either took over corporate empires or became shining stars in the art world. I was the only one who buried myself in a tiny, rural town, volunteered as a teacher for years, then transferred to a special-needs school, and finally just opened my own foster home. Most orphans are not perfectly healthy children. They often carry various physical or psychological traumas. At first, when my family came to visit me, they would be horrified by the occasional bruises or scratches on my arms. They asked me more than once, “Eleanor Vance, have you completely lost your mind?” Outsiders understood it even less. The Vance children were raised in the lap of luxury. Why did Eleanor turn out so thoroughly devoid of aristocratic grace? But in a person’s life, there are always one or two defining moments that completely change who they are. I had no intention of judging what was “noble” or “low-class,” nor did I want to use grandiose words to prove how “transcendent” I was. In truth, I was just an incredibly ordinary person among the masses who happened to choose this specific path. So, I brushed off their doubts and mockery with a simple smile. “Just like the rest of you, I’m just doing what I want to do.” Felix asked me, [So, what was the event that completely changed you?] “Who knows,” I said. “My childhood memories are pretty blurry now. But there must have been something like that.” Actually, I did remember. I remembered when my elite private school held a charity event. We dressed up in our fancy little dresses and tailored suits and went to the special education school next door to hand out gifts. But we didn’t actually meet a single student that day. I overheard their teachers saying they were worried the kids might hurt us, so they locked them all in their dormitories. We just placed books and clothes on their empty desks, took some PR photos, and prepared to leave. I saw a book sitting on one of the desks. It was a fairy tale book, and scrawled on the cover in crooked handwriting was a single line: Timmy asked, what do stars look like? I want to know too. Do they taste like candy? In that fairy tale, the stars in the sky were all made of candy. Could Timmy not see the stars? And what about the owner of the book—had he never tasted candy? I looked down at my pristine, expensive dress, reached into my pocket, and struggled to pull out a single piece of candy. I quietly slipped it inside the pages of the book. Before we left, I glanced back at the dormitory building. I saw a few smudged, dirty little faces pressed against the windows, watching us. I suddenly felt incredibly sad. I had only brought one piece of candy, and I had only left one. I could only let one child taste the stars. 04 I spent the next week working non-stop. The arrival of the new kids brought life and vitality to this small patch of land, but it also brought a mountain of new responsibilities. From things as small as choosing the brand of milk the kids drank, to things as massive as hiring new teachers—as a one-woman management team, I had to handle everything personally. Thankfully, I had the ultimate cheat code, Felix. He helped me monitor the children’s status to prevent any accidents. Otherwise, even if I split myself into three people, I wouldn’t have been able to keep up. Our home wasn’t huge. I had already hired cooks, cleaners, nurses, and care aides. But the role of academic educators was crucial, especially since I planned to set up actual classes soon. I needed people who were absolutely reliable. After several rounds of interviews, I finally found someone who perfectly matched what I was looking for. She was a girl who, based purely on looks, could have been a movie star. She was young, with a neat bob cut, bright eyes, a gentle personality, and a small red mole near the corner of her eye. Honestly, I could tell her family was probably quite wealthy. From her elegant speech to her natural grace, she gave off the aura of a girl who had been cherished her entire life. Yet, her skin was tanned, and her cheeks carried the distinct, rosy flush of someone who had spent a lot of time working outdoors under the harsh sun. “My name is Clara Hayes,” the girl said, her eyes shining like stars. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Miss Vance.” I reached out and shook her hand. “Welcome aboard, Clara.” Clara’s hiring freed up a lot of my time to focus on getting the kids’ education sorted out. Well-funded orphanages usually had their own on-site classrooms, while smaller ones sent the kids to local public schools. Considering the special needs of several of our children, I decided to set up separate, in-house classes for them. After finalizing the paperwork, Clara and I hired a few more subject teachers and officially launched the in-house curriculum. Since we didn’t have that many kids, we only formed one main class. We held a democratic vote for the name, and the kids loved the word “Seedlings.” And just like that, Haven Children’s Home’s very first class, the Seedlings Class, was born. I was highly experienced in this field, and Clara had clearly done extensive homework, so the classes ran incredibly smoothly. In early childhood development, the priority isn’t just cramming facts; it’s about building good habits and forming healthy personalities. I set up a Storytime class, reading them a new fairy tale every single day. In the world of fairy tales, the storm always passes, the villains always lose, the princess meets her prince, the ugly duckling becomes a beautiful swan, and the little animals you save always return to repay your kindness. Life is obviously more than just fairy tales. Maybe when they grow up, they’ll realize the world isn’t exactly like the stories. But I still wanted them to believe in the magic of those tales for now. However, right after my Storytime, Clara would come in to teach Safety Education. While you shouldn’t harbor malicious intent toward others, you must always stay guarded. I could teach them to be kind to the world, but someone also needed to teach them that not everyone is kind. They needed to learn to be vigilant and know how to protect themselves. I appointed Robin as the Class President of the Seedlings Class. The little boy immediately awakened to a fierce sense of “civic duty,” dedicating every day to maintaining peace and harmony in the classroom. The little president was usually brimming with fighting spirit, but occasionally, he faced setbacks. Like today. “Miss Ellie, Caleb cried today,” he said, resting his chin gloomily on my knee. “I heard him thinking about why his mommy and daddy didn’t want him.” Ever since Caleb moved into the home, he had become much more cheerful, but sometimes, in the late afternoons, he would still cry secretly. Robin couldn’t solve his friend’s emotional distress, so he came to me for advice. When I told Robin his story, I said his mother loved him very much. Because of that, Robin couldn’t comprehend why Caleb’s parents would abandon their own child. I rubbed Robin’s head gently. “Robin, people are all different. Some parents… just don’t love their children.” Robin pursed his lips. “Then why did they have him?” “There are many reasons, and we can’t always know them. But what I want to tell you is that Caleb’s parents abandoning him is a crime,” I said. “There are a lot of abandoned children in this world. Caleb is lucky to have a friend like you to care about him, but many other kids don’t even have friends.” Robin’s dark eyes went wide. “Really?” “Yes,” I offered him a suggestion. “When you get a little older, you and Caleb can work together to protect all the kids out there who are just like him.” Robin listened intently, stood up, and his little feet pitter-pattered toward the door. “I’m going to tell Caleb! Bye, Miss Ellie!” I smiled warmly. “Go on, Robin.” In truth, in the original novel, Caleb was fiercely protective of his people. The subordinates in his mafia syndicate were mostly street orphans—kids without parents. I didn’t believe that was a coincidence. Even though the photos from the plot files showed a terrifying man with a birthmark and eyes devoid of emotion, perhaps, in his own lonely childhood, he had desperately craved that exact kind of protection. They say that the things people do as adults are often ways to overcompensate for their childhood traumas. I thought to myself: At the very least, Caleb definitely isn’t going to become a mob boss this time around.

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When I opened my eyes and realized I had been reborn right before the start of spring break, the very first thing I did was decisively quit the research lab I had poured years of my life into. Because I knew exactly what was coming. In just a few days, Wyatt, the golden boy junior researcher, would flagrantly violate safety protocols and cross-contaminate our most critical biological samples. In my past life, out of the goodness of my heart, I rushed back to the lab to clean up his mess and painstakingly rerun the control experiments. Against all odds, I successfully saved the multi-million dollar federal project. But when the oversight board came looking for someone to blame, Wyatt completely twisted the truth and framed me. “It was Nathan! He was messing with the calibration on the equipment and almost destroyed all of our experimental results!” Professor Sylvia and the rest of the lab swallowed his lies without a second thought, condemning me on the spot. I had absolutely nowhere to turn. My hard-earned reputation was violently shredded, and I became an academic outcast hunted by public outrage. Every ounce of blood, sweat, and tears I had poured into my entire life evaporated into thin air. Driven into a state of absolute mental collapse, I lost my footing on the roof of the science building and plunged to my death. Now that the universe has given me a second chance, I am cutting the cord. I am walking away from their toxic, venomous web before it can drag me under again. 1 When I handed the transfer request to Professor Sylvia, her beautifully shaped eyebrows twitched in surprise. “Nathan,” she said, her tone dripping with disbelief. “Do you have any idea what you are doing?” My expression didn’t change. I was as calm as a frozen lake. “I do. This is a decision I made after very careful consideration.” Sylvia looked me up and down, a mocking smirk curling her lips. “This is about Wyatt, isn’t it?” I blinked, genuinely confused for a second. Sylvia leaned back in her plush leather chair and sighed as if she were dealing with a petulant child. “Wyatt joined the lab after you did. I know that. But his natural talent for research is miles ahead of yours, and frankly, he is much better at working with people.” “You are just jealous of him, and that’s why you are throwing this little tantrum and trying to leave.” Hearing her absurd accusation, I didn’t even get mad. I just gave a tired, dry chuckle. The core bottlenecks of this project? The agonizingly complex control experiments? I was the one who stayed up for five straight days, fueled entirely by black coffee and sheer willpower, to crack them. I was the first to admit I wasn’t some once-in-a-generation genius. But Wyatt? Please. Both my actual talent and my insane dedication to this lab were lightyears beyond anything he could ever manage. The only thing Wyatt excelled at was playing the charming golden boy. He knew exactly how to suck up to people, and both the other lab members and our professor absolutely adored him. Every single time I broke my back compiling flawless data sets or designing a brilliant new testing protocol, Wyatt would swoop in, slap his name on it, and take all the credit. It wasn’t like I had never fought back. But whenever I did, Wyatt would just widen his eyes and play the innocent victim. And Sylvia would immediately turn on me, her voice sharp with disappointment. “Nathan, why do you always have to be so glory-hungry?” “Are you really not going to be satisfied until you steal every single ounce of credit for yourself?” Because of that, I stopped defending myself. I just became quieter, swallowing the injustice to keep the peace. It took dying once for me to finally wake up. They didn’t believe me because they had already decided I was the villain from day one. So no matter how loudly I screamed the truth, it was totally useless. “Yep, you are totally right. You nailed it,” I said, leaning against her desk and shrugging indifferently. Seeing that I was totally unfazed by her scolding, Sylvia sneered. She grabbed her expensive fountain pen, slashed her signature across the transfer form, and slammed her official stamp onto the paper. As I turned to leave, she called out to me, her tone condescending. “Nathan, since I have been your mentor for so long, I will give you one last bit of grace.” “I will give you exactly three days. If you realize what a massive mistake you are making, you can come back and withdraw this application.” “I won’t,” I replied without a second of hesitation. Right at that moment, a head popped through the doorway. It was Wyatt. His eyes were gleaming with obvious excitement, but he immediately forced his face into a mask of tragic heartbreak. “Oh no, Nathan! Why are you leaving? Did I do something to upset you?” I completely ignored him. I reached into my leather satchel and pulled out a thick stack of manila folders, my fingers lightly brushing over the heavy paper. This massive, state-of-the-art laboratory was currently housing a top-tier, federally funded research initiative. Sylvia had basically bet her entire academic reputation and pulled every shady string she had to secure this grant. If this project went down in flames, every single person in this lab would watch their academic careers turn to ash. Their evaluations, their funding, their chances at top Ph.D. programs—gone. But the person who would suffer the most was the lead researcher: Sylvia herself. If the project crashed, the federal oversight committee would descend like vultures. Not only would she be stripped of her research credentials for life, but there was a massive chance she would end up behind bars for academic fraud and gross negligence. In my past life, I knew exactly how devastating the fallout would be. I knew no one in the lab could survive it. So, like an absolute fool, I sacrificed my hard-earned vacation and rushed back to fix the mess. I stayed awake for nearly a week straight, violently dragging the doomed project back from the brink of total annihilation. And my reward? They completely destroyed my reputation and drove me to my death. Now that I had a second chance, I would rather die again than lift a single finger to save these vultures. Wyatt had already walked up to me, still yapping about how sad he was. I kept ignoring him. I kept my face dead blank as I meticulously laid the folders out on Sylvia’s desk. Inside those folders was every single piece of experimental data I had handled over the past few years. The raw data. The backup footage. The logbooks. Every single page was clearly dated and signed by the person who actually performed the work. Wyatt stared at the folders, looking a bit confused. He didn’t have high-level clearance. He wasn’t even qualified to turn on half the multi-million-dollar machines in this room. I was the only one who had executed the high-risk protocol runs. I had spent weeks carefully backing up and categorizing every piece of proof. Every number, every signature, every single comma in those files was ironclad evidence. It was my ultimate insurance policy. 2 “Professor,” I said, tapping my finger on the top document—the official data handover receipt. “Please review everything. Once you confirm the files are complete, unaltered, and fully accounted for, sign the receipt for the official record.” This piece of paper was my shield. It proved that my exit from the lab was one hundred percent compliant with federal regulations. Clear boundaries. Clear accountability. Once I walked out that door, if this lab exploded or a single sample was compromised, it would have absolutely nothing to do with me. They would never be able to dump their dirty water on my head again. Sylvia looked down at the exhaustively detailed logs. Her brows furrowed, and a strange, uneasy look flickered in her eyes. Beside her, Wyatt’s fake smile stiffened. A cold prickle of anxiety suddenly crawled up his spine. Sylvia hesitated for a long time. Finally, she picked up her pen, signed her full name on the handover receipt, pressed her thumbprint over the ink, and stamped both copies. “Fine. Since you are so damn stubborn, I agree. It is better to have the liability lines clearly drawn anyway.” I let out a breath I didn’t realize I had been holding. I picked up my copy of the receipt, carefully sliding it into a protective sleeve in my bag. With my insurance secured, I dropped the polite facade. I turned to walk away, my tone freezing cold. “Good. From this second forward, I have absolutely nothing to do with any of you.” Wyatt finally snapped out of his daze and reached out, grabbing my forearm. “Nathan, you are being so impulsive!” “Aren’t you happy? Haven’t you been trying to get rid of me this whole time?” I violently ripped my arm out of his grip. Wyatt’s smile vanished. His face flushed with anger, and he glared at me with pure venom. Then, he quickly turned to Sylvia, lifting his chin with a look of overwhelming arrogance. “Don’t worry, Professor. We will be fine without Nathan. From now on, I will personally shoulder the responsibility of pushing the project forward.” He puffed out his chest, trying to look like the brilliant hero stepping up to save the day. Deep down, Wyatt was absolutely thrilled that I was leaving. It meant my spot was empty. It meant that every single future breakthrough and all the project glory would land directly in his lap. I actually laughed out loud. Sylvia was always busy attending conferences and rubbing shoulders with donors. I was the one who had practically spoon-fed Wyatt every ounce of knowledge he had in this lab. Did this idiot honestly believe he could run the project on his own? Sylvia nodded, looking incredibly touched. “Good. I am glad you have that kind of dedication. Try not to be like some people who run away the second things get a little difficult.” She threw a disgusted glance in my direction. In her eyes, I was as boring and tasteless as a glass of lukewarm water. I was nowhere near as clever or charming as Wyatt. She had always hated looking at me, so my voluntary exit was a total blessing for her. I took in both of their reactions and just smiled. Yep. That was exactly what this team was. They were so blinded by Wyatt’s sweet, innocent act that they were completely blind to the fact that I was the one keeping this lab from collapsing. If I even tried to defend myself, they would call me selfish. I was done wasting my breath on them. I shoved past Wyatt and walked out the door. As I walked down the hall, a few other lab members saw me carrying my things. They laughed and waved. “Wow, Nathan, you are actually bailing?” “Yeah, the project is basically in the final stages. Don’t you think it’s a massive waste to run away now?” “Are you just throwing a tantrum because the Professor likes the new kid more than you?” I focused entirely on packing up the rest of my desk, refusing to even look at them. In my past life, these exact people had enthusiastically helped push me off the ledge. But the twisted part was, before Wyatt joined the lab, these guys had genuinely looked out for me. Maybe it was because I was the youngest guy in the room at the time, but they used to treat me like a little brother. But slowly, over time, everything turned toxic. Once my box was packed, I grabbed it and headed for the exit. The moment my foot crossed the threshold of the building, a massive, suffocating weight vanished from my chest. I felt like I could finally breathe. But I didn’t even make it across the courtyard before two armed campus security officers stepped into my path. “Hold it right there!” I frowned, genuinely confused. But a second later, I knew exactly what was going on. 3 Wyatt strolled out from behind the officers, a sickeningly sweet smile plastered on his face. “Nathan, you know this is a federally funded, highly classified project. The security protocols are extremely strict.” He paused, letting his eyes drop pointedly to the cardboard box in my arms. Then, he dramatically raised his voice, ensuring that every researcher and student walking through the courtyard stopped to watch. “Nathan, you are leaving so suddenly. I am just really worried you might accidentally take some classified documents with you. Please cooperate with security and let them search your things.” He didn’t even try to sugarcoat it. He was dragging me out into the town square and lighting the fire under my feet. He was publicly accusing me of corporate espionage. My grip on the cardboard box tightened, my eyes turning to ice. “There were at least a dozen people watching me pack my desk. I didn’t have the opportunity to steal a single paperclip, let alone classified data.” I swept my gaze over the crowd of my former lab mates standing nearby. Every single one of them immediately looked away, completely silent. I didn’t get mad. I already knew these cowards wouldn’t say a word to defend me. I looked up and saw Sylvia hurrying over, drawn by the commotion. “Professor,” I called out loudly. “Twenty minutes ago, while sitting directly in front of you, I completed a full handover of every single piece of data and equipment I was responsible for.” “The raw data logs and the federal compliance records were perfectly accounted for. You personally signed and stamped the receipt confirming I left nothing behind and took nothing with me.” “And now, with absolutely zero evidence, you are demanding a public search of my personal belongings? I have every right to believe this is targeted harassment.” My mind was working at lightning speed. Since I had already died once because of this lab, I took federal security protocols more seriously than God himself. I had to ensure my reputation remained absolutely spotless. I couldn’t give them a single thread to pull. If I simply bowed my head and let them humiliate me by ripping through my private belongings in the middle of a crowd, the rumor mill would destroy my career regardless of what they found. Sylvia choked on her words. Her face hardened into an ugly scowl. “Enough, Nathan! Your junior colleague has reasonable suspicions. What is the big deal if you just cooperate?” I stared at Wyatt for a long time. Seeing the smug, untouchable arrogance radiating from his eyes, I let out a sharp laugh. “Wyatt does not have security clearance to authorize an audit. Ordering armed guards to detain a researcher who has already completed a legally binding handover is a massive abuse of power and targeted harassment.” The moment I said that, the crowd’s energy shifted. People started looking at Wyatt differently. Wyatt’s face turned bright red. He waved his hands frantically, playing the victim. “Nathan, no! I swear I didn’t mean it like that! I was just terrified something bad would happen! I only did it because I care so much about the project…” I was completely exhausted by his pathetic acting. I took a step forward, holding my box out toward the head security officer. “I will comply with the search. But I have two demands.” “First, the entire search must be recorded on bodycam. Second, when you inevitably find absolutely zero classified material in my possession, you are required to report this incident directly to the Federal Security Bureau and the University’s Academic Integrity Board.” Wyatt froze completely, sheer panic flashing across his eyes. I looked up, making sure the entire crowd heard me loud and clear. “If we really care about preventing data leaks, the board should be investigating the lab’s internal handover procedures and security authorization logs. Not digging through my gym clothes.” Wyatt was just a junior researcher with basic clearance. For him to illegally summon armed guards to detain a colleague was a massive breach of protocol. The only reason the guards actually listened to him was because he had clearly invoked Sylvia’s name to give his orders weight. But if this actually went to the federal board, things would get extremely ugly. There was no physical way Wyatt could have secured an official written mandate from Sylvia in the ten minutes since I left her office. Which meant Wyatt had flagrantly impersonated a lead researcher and abused federal security resources. And me? I had officially surrendered my clearance and handed over all materials twenty minutes ago. Legally, I was totally untouchable. If this got kicked up to the feds, Wyatt would be absolutely butchered. He might even get permanently expelled and blacklisted. 4 The crowd’s whispers grew louder, the stares aimed at Wyatt turning incredibly suspicious. Some people actually started speaking up for me. “Honestly, Nathan doesn’t seem like the type to steal classified data.” “Yeah. If his handover paperwork is legally sound, what the hell are they even suspecting him of?” “Why is this Wyatt kid going after Nathan so hard? Does he actually have proof, or is this just malicious bullying?” All the color drained from Wyatt’s face. He looked like a ghost. He shot a desperate, terrified look at Sylvia. “Professor, I swear I didn’t mean anything malicious! I was just trying to protect…” He was still trying to play the innocent card, but I wasn’t going to let him. Before Sylvia could open her mouth to yell at me again, I placed my cardboard box squarely on the concrete. Right in front of dozens of people, I pulled my things out one by one and handed them to the armed officers. A water bottle. A gym towel. A few extra T-shirts. My electric razor. It was just a pathetic pile of totally normal, boring things. After about ten minutes of thorough searching, the officers looked at each other and shook their heads. The lead officer turned to me, looking deeply embarrassed. “I apologize. Wyatt told us Professor Sylvia had declared a code-red emergency.” “We reacted to the perceived threat without waiting for the official authorization paperwork. That was our failure.” He gave me a stiff, respectful nod. I nodded back. Then, the officer turned slowly to face Wyatt. His voice was like a block of ice. “We have completed the search. Per protocol, we will now be escalating this incident to the Federal Security Bureau exactly as Nathan requested.” The courtyard went dead silent. Hundreds of eyes locked onto Wyatt. It was painfully obvious to everyone now. This wasn’t about security. This was a targeted, malicious hit job. Wyatt’s face burned a humiliating crimson. The look he shot me was so full of venom it was practically glowing. Sylvia looked absolutely humiliated. She glared at me like she wanted me dead, then turned on her heel and stormed away. I packed my boring things back into the box, picked it up, and didn’t spare Wyatt a second glance as I walked away. Everyone in that courtyard thought I was throwing my life away by quitting the lab. They all thought I was destined to fail, that I would never land a decent research project again. They were eagerly waiting to watch me burn. Later that night, Wyatt actually had the nerve to tag me in the massive university group chat. “Nathan, if you ever struggle to find work, just let me know.” “Since we used to be in the same lab, I wouldn’t mind doing you a favor and helping you out.” I raised an eyebrow and let my thumbs fly across the keyboard. “You should probably focus on surviving the federal disciplinary hearing for impersonating a lead researcher and abusing armed security first.” I hit send. The massive group chat instantly died. Half the people in there had no idea what went down in the courtyard. I wasn’t in a rush to explain. A second later, Wyatt’s private messages flooded my screen. He was completely unhinged. “What the hell are you so arrogant about?! As long as Sylvia has my back, nothing is going to happen to me!” “You are just a pathetic loser running away with your tail between your legs! You have absolutely no right to talk down to me!” “Look at how miserable your life is. Even though I joined the lab after you, the second I say you are bullying me, every single person takes my side.” I lowered my eyes, staring at the screen. I honestly couldn’t comprehend why he hated me so much. When he first joined, I did everything in my power to take care of him. We were the only two guys our age in Sylvia’s entire lab. I thought we were a team. I practically held his hand through his first six months. Wyatt clearly sensed my silence, and another message popped up. “Nathan, I absolutely despise that stupid, calm look on your face. I hate how you act like nothing bothers you.” “More importantly, I demand that all the attention in the room be on me. I am supposed to be the golden boy. You were just in my way.” I didn’t reply. I just locked my phone. A strange sense of peace washed over me. So that was it. I didn’t waste another second thinking about him. Since I suddenly had a ton of free time, I booked a flight to Bali for a mini-vacation. Halfway through my trip, I logged into the university portal and saw a massive, campus-wide disciplinary notice. [Wyatt violated federal security protocols. He bypassed the authorization board, invoked a lead researcher’s name to illegally deploy armed security, and maliciously defamed a colleague in public.] Wyatt was stripped of all academic awards and stipends for the current year and the next two years. He was also ordered to submit a ten-thousand-word public apology letter. The moment the notice hit the server, the entire university went into an uproar. I smiled, taking a slow sip of my cocktail while staring at the crystal blue ocean. I let out a long, satisfied breath. Just then, my phone rang. It was an unknown number. I answered it. “Nathan, hello. This is Professor Evelyn.” “I have spent the last few days reviewing your publication history and raw data logs. Your work is absolutely brilliant.” “My lab is currently desperate for someone with your specific skillset to lead our core experimental division. Would you be interested in joining us?” My heart slammed against my ribs. Professor Evelyn was an absolute god in our field. Her lab was the undeniable gold standard across the entire country. I had never, in my wildest dreams, imagined that someone of her caliber would personally extend an olive branch to me. In my past life, I was so blinded by my stupid loyalty to Sylvia’s toxic lab that I completely missed out on opportunities like this. I fought to keep my voice steady. “Thank you so much for the opportunity, Professor Evelyn. I would be incredibly honored to join your team.” But before I could even finish celebrating, my phone started ringing again. It was Wyatt. His voice was completely frantic, bordering on hysterical. “Nathan! Something went wrong! You have to come back to the lab right now!”

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My lover has paranoia. He imagines that I am his nemesis, his mortal enemy, the person he despises most in this world. Day after day, I play along with his delusions. Until one day, I couldn’t play the part anymore. I was diagnosed with terminal cancer. 1 The house was pitch-black when I got home. I set my bag down, kicked off my shoes, and trailed my hand along the wall, slowly feeling my way through the dark. The moment my fingers brushed the light switch, a ceramic plate came flying at my head. I tilted my head, dodging it just in time. The lights flickered on. A man stood on the staircase, staring down at me with an entirely expressionless face. “So you still know how to come back.” “…” I smiled, walking toward him. I reached out and wrapped my arms around his waist. “Can you stop acting like a bitter, neglected housewife, Ethan?” He smelled faintly of floral soap, a scent I specifically picked out for him. I always hoped it would somehow neutralize the freezing aura he radiated. But it never did. The way he looked at me was still full of absolute disgust. 2 The crystal chandelier cast fragmented, glittering light across the room. Yet, the brightly lit living room felt agonizingly cold, and the man sitting right beside me offered no warmth at all. I rested the iPad on my lap, swiping through the pages to show him. “Look at this for our wedding. Should I wear this one?” “The skirt is a mermaid design.” “It’s so pretty, like liquid light slipping right over the fabric.” “Oh, and I love this one too. The veil has a starry night design, just like the time you took me to see the—” A sharp scoff cut off my words. He lifted his gaze, his dark, pitch-black eyes staring dead into mine. “Did we even have a past?” I wanted so desperately to tell the man in front of me that yes, we did. We had so many beautiful, wonderful memories together. But the man in front of me only saw me as an unforgivable, heinous villain. He gripped my chin, his thumb pressing into my skin, and landed a kiss at the corner of my lips. His cold voice carried a ripple of deliberate, elegant seduction. “Be a good girl. Give me the medicine.” 3 The only reason Ethan Hayes listened to me at all was that I held the one thing he desperately craved. If he ever bothered to look through the Seattle Police Department’s internal reports from a few years ago, he would be shocked to find his own name listed under both “Narcotics Commendations” and “Injured in the Line of Duty.” Ethan got hooked on drugs while working deep undercover. And after his undercover days ended, he developed severe paranoid psychosis. Delusional disorder. He categorized almost everyone around him as the enemy—including me. Including the woman he once said he loved the most, the woman he swore to protect with his life. That gentle man was long gone, dragged down into a living hell. His eyes, when he looked at me, were like thousand-year-old ice caves. The bedroom light was dim. I gripped his collar. Even though I had him pinned beneath me, his gaze remained entirely unfazed. Even tainted by addiction, he still looked as pure and untouchable as a god looking down from above. Just the slight curve of his lips was mesmerizing. I leaned down, wanting to kiss him, but with a sudden, practiced twist of his hips, he flipped me over and pinned me to the mattress. He dug into my chest pocket for a moment and pulled out the syringe. With practiced ease, he injected it right into his right arm. … To him, that syringe was his heroin. But it wasn’t. It was a specially formulated psychiatric medication laced with heavy sedatives. You can’t cure a severe addiction overnight; you have to slowly taper the dosage. Lying there, I suddenly understood exactly why he hated me so much. Because, in his eyes… I wasn’t his devoted lover. I was the monster who got him hooked on drugs, the dealer who kept him on a leash by dangling a pathetic little fix in front of him every single day… Just a villain. 4 I had a dream. I dreamed of a few years ago, back when Ethan was still deep undercover. I went to see him on Christmas Eve. We navigated through the thick holiday crowd, only able to truly look at each other while hiding behind the cover of a newspaper. He had both hands shoved in his pockets, leaning lazily against the railing like he didn’t have a bone in his body. Ethan was a gorgeous man. Even a slight smirk made him look dangerously handsome, drawing the eyes of two young women nearby. Right in front of me, he whistled at the two girls. I kicked him in the shin. He let out a dramatic “Ow!” and lowered his voice, leaning in. “Honey, I gotta play the part, right?” He was already starting to carry the grimy, dangerous aura of the criminal underworld, but his eyes were still so clear. The sound of Jingle Bells drifted through the air. He tilted his head back, a teasing lilt in his voice. “Just one more year, they always say. Then another, then another.” It was a line reminiscent of our favorite mob movies. He turned his head, our eyes meeting only through our reflections in the glass pane beside us. “When am I finally going to be able to marry you, Claire?” … I lowered the newspaper and walked past him, our shoulders just barely brushing. “Finish the job. I’m waiting for you.” … He finished the job, but I never got to marry him. When I woke up the next morning, the space next to me in bed was cold and empty. I knew he hated me, that he despised sharing a bed with me. But when I hurried downstairs and couldn’t find him anywhere, a blind panic set in. I tore through every room in the house. He was gone. I tried calling a friend, my hands shaking so badly I could barely hold the phone. He was nowhere. I squatted on the floor, clutching my head. Lately, I had been getting these splitting headaches whenever I tried to focus or think too hard. The throbbing pain made my vision blur, but the agonizing anxiety of losing him was far worse. I frantically typed out a text, on the verge of begging my old colleagues at the precinct to run a search. My heart hammered against my ribs, burning hotter and hotter—until a pair of white sneakers stepped into my line of sight. “What are you doing?” The voice was steady, as cold and indifferent as ever. Ethan wasn’t Ethan anymore, yet he was still Ethan. It was just that this detached, icy man standing in front of me could never be reconciled with the sunny, teasing boy in my memories. I stood up and threw my arms around him. I don’t know why, but I loved hugging him. It felt like, if I just held him tightly enough, I could transfer my body heat to him—even if he never hugged me back. “I thought you left, Ethan.” He took a step back, smoothly peeling my arms off him. “I was just out in the back watering the plants.” “…” I smiled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “What do you want for dinner tonight? I’ll make you—” “Drop the fake act. You don’t even let me out the front door.” He cut me off, snatched a book off the dining table, and walked upstairs. I didn’t let Ethan leave the house because I was terrified of cartel remnants coming after him for revenge. But the more I protected him… The more he felt like a white dove trapped in a cage. And the more he hated me. 5 I went to the hospital for a full-body scan. The headaches had been getting significantly worse over the last few days. I was never someone who liked hospitals, but ever since Ethan’s incident, I had become hyper-vigilant about my health. I was terrified that if I died, there would be no one left to take care of him. He would be left to suffer in his personal hell all alone. At least while I was here, I could sit in the flames with him. Ethan lived in hell. When he was first diagnosed with his delusions, his psychiatrist pulled me aside. He told me that the reason Ethan constantly pushed me away was because, deep in his subconscious, he believed that as a junkie, he was no longer worthy of me. The cartel boss had forced him to test the product. Forced him to shoot up. He had no choice. A decorated cop, turned into a heroin addict. That was Ethan’s personal hell. I couldn’t drag him out of it, but I could stay in the dark with him. The test results wouldn’t be ready for a while, so on my way home, aside from picking up groceries, I bought a bouquet of baby’s breath. When Ethan was undercover, he used to send me flowers all the time. He couldn’t send them to my real address, so he sent them to our secret spot. Ethan’s handwriting was terrible, but he tirelessly wrote little notes on the cards anyway. Short, sweet little love letters. “I’m no poet, Claire, otherwise I’d write you the moon.” “Watched the sunset today. It wasn’t a fraction as pretty as it is when you’re here.” “The wind blew off the lake, and the wind told me I miss you.” “Claire, seriously, I miss you so damn much.” “…” I could perfectly picture the scene. Him, stuck in some damp, miserable trap house under the cartel’s thumb. Tilting his head, leaning against a dirty windowsill, writing out these incredibly sappy lines. And then smiling to himself as he tucked them into the bright, blooming flowers. 6 Lately, even our home had stopped being a safe haven. Several luxury cars were parked outside my house. Holding the bouquet of baby’s breath, my heart plummeted like a stone the moment I saw the front door wide open. I kept telling myself to breathe, but a sudden, blunt force of pain slammed into my skull, forcing me to grip the doorframe to stay upright. Three men in black suits and sunglasses stood in the entryway. Sitting gracefully on my living room sofa was a woman. “Detective Vance. Even if you’re a cop, trespassing is still a crime.” I slowly set the flowers down on the entryway console and spoke to the woman on the couch. She tilted her head and offered a slow, deliberate smile. “Illegal imprisonment is also a crime. And you’re not a cop anymore, Claire.” “…” I was accusing her of breaking in; she was accusing me of locking Ethan up and restricting his freedom. Victoria Vance. The sole, precious daughter of the Seattle Police Commissioner, and my… rival. She loved Ethan, too. “I’m taking Ethan with me.” She raised her chin, looking down to casually inspect her flawless manicure. “Not happening.” I leaned heavily on the coffee table, glaring at her. “Why isn’t it happening? The department universally agrees that you are no longer capable of managing Ethan’s treatment. He’s been with you all this time, and he hasn’t improved at all.” “I have the best medical resources. The absolute best psychiatrists. Only with me can he get the care he—” “I am his fiancée.” I cut her off. The woman finally looked up at me, pure disdain reflecting beneath her immaculate makeup. “Says who? He didn’t marry you. Ethan never married you.” “He said he would.” “But now he hates you. Watch.” Victoria pulled a pocketknife from her coat and pressed it directly against my throat. She turned me to face the staircase. There, Ethan was slowly walking down. The man watched with a completely blank expression as Victoria held a blade to my neck. “See? Even if I killed you right here, he wouldn’t even blink.” It felt like she was choking me, whispering, Look. You gave him everything, and he threw it to the dogs. How good had I been to Ethan? I had practically carved out my own heart and handed it to him. Yet when my life was threatened, he didn’t even spare me a second glance. It felt like no matter how hard I tried, it was all useless. Then… I guess I just have to try harder. That was our promise. Ethan and I had promised we would never give up on each other. No matter what. Slowly, I brought my bare hand up and gripped the sharp edge of the blade. Victoria obviously didn’t really want to stab me; she visibly flinched and paused. “I am not letting you take Ethan.” In the silent, tense standoff, she suddenly laughed. “Fine. Then let’s play fair.” “Let Ethan choose. Whoever he chooses, he goes with.” “How about it?” … Ethan wasn’t an object. He wasn’t a prize to be won. After they finally left, I sat alone on the sofa. The lighting in the living room really was too dim. I needed to remember to buy new bulbs. I kept my head down until a shadow fell over me. He stood in front of me, his voice entirely flat and monotone. “They didn’t break in. I opened the door and let them inside.” “When she put that knife to your throat, I really didn’t feel a thing.” “…” Ethan knew exactly how to twist the knife into my heart. I looked up at him. Reflected in his pitch-black eyes, I saw just how utterly broken I looked. I asked him softly. “So you want to leave with her? Is that it?” “…” He didn’t answer. …Makes sense. To Ethan, leaving with Victoria was just trading one cage for another. What he didn’t know was that he himself was the cage. Dark, sunless, and full of endless torment.

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1 At yet another Montgomery family dinner, Chris’s new female assistant sat right in the chair that belonged to me. I looked at my husband. “She is sitting in the seat meant for the lady of the house. Do you have absolutely nothing to say about this?” Chris rolled his eyes, his voice dripping with his usual annoyance. “If you can’t be bothered to show up on time, don’t cry about losing your seat. Sit in one of the empty chairs. If you don’t want to sit, then get the hell out.” I opened my mouth to argue, but Chris’s inner voice flooded my mind before I could speak. [Come on, get mad. Tell me you need me. Tell them you belong right next to me. Prove you love me. That is the only way I feel safe.] This time, I refused to satisfy his twisted cravings. I just lowered my head and slowly slipped the diamond wedding band off my finger. “Since there isn’t even a place left for the lady of the house, I guess I am no longer needed here.” “Let’s get a divorce.” The heavy ring hit the mahogany table with a sharp, crisp clink. Chris’s face drained of color. Even his parents, who had been quietly enjoying the drama, suddenly looked panicked. Six years. I had lived like this for six solid years. Every single time Chris used his words like poisoned blades to cut me down, I never needed him to coax me back. All I had to do was listen to his desperate, begging inner thoughts, and I would foolishly run right back into his arms to make peace. Over time, his family grew completely used to this toxic dance. His mother would even laugh and joke about it. She would say that an awkward, stubborn man just needed a wife who wouldn’t run away no matter how hard he yelled. So the moment I took off the ring, Mrs. Montgomery practically leaped out of her seat. “Sundra… what is wrong? Are you just in a bad mood today? You are normally never this petty.” Mr. Montgomery slammed his fork down, looking stern. “This is a family dinner. Even if you are throwing a tantrum, you do not joke about divorce. Put the ring back on.” I let out a soft, dry laugh. “Oh, you know it is a family dinner? So when exactly did Assistant Lily become a member of the family?” The older couple instantly choked on their words. Chris stood up abruptly. His jaw was clenched so tight the muscle twitched. “Sundra, are you done being dramatic?” “You want a divorce? Fine! Then get the hell out of my sight right now! This house doesn’t welcome an ungrateful stray dog like you!” Beneath those sharp, familiar words, his inner voice was a bleeding mess. [Sundra, why? Why do you want a divorce? Are you throwing me away? Didn’t you promise you would love me forever?] [This is a sick joke, right? As long as I lose my temper, you will rush over and hug me. You always do.] I had swallowed these agonizing, two-faced emotions for an entire decade. When I first met Chris, he suffered from severe emotional trauma and a crushing inability to express affection. He literally could not voice his true feelings. He used the cruelest, most sarcastic words as a shield to attack anyone who tried to get close. And I, like a fool, became the lucky girl who could hear his true thoughts. Whenever he screamed at me to get out, his inner voice would be on its knees, begging: [Don’t leave. I need you.] Because my heart broke for him, I slowly fell in love with him. Four years of dating. Six years of marriage. Because I stayed by his side, he finally opened his locked-up heart. He stopped needing medication to function like a normal human being. But over the past six years, a sick pattern emerged. He was gentle and polite to every stranger he met. Yet to me, his wife, he offered nothing but coldness and biting insults. It was not like I never felt wronged. I cried. I hurt. But his mother would always pat my hand and say that Chris was sick in the head. She told me he wasn’t normal, that I needed to give him grace. She insisted his cruelty was just a front and that his heart belonged entirely to me. Because I could hear his thoughts, I believed her. Until his assistant, Lily, showed up. Chris, a man who didn’t possess a single romantic bone in his body, rented out an entire amusement park for Lily’s birthday. I had been admiring a certain diamond necklace for six months. He bought it without blinking and fastened it around Lily’s neck. He even brought her to our private family dinners. His inner voice would chant over and over that he loved me, desperately craving my jealousy to soothe his deep-seated insecurities. But as I looked at my seat, the seat I had earned through ten years of blood and tears, happily occupied by another woman while I was shoved into a corner… I suddenly woke up. I had been lying to myself this whole time. Where a man puts his tenderness, that is where his love truly lies. 2 Looking at Chris’s trembling lips, my face remained perfectly calm. “Okay. I am leaving.” Ignoring his parents’ urgent shouts, I turned and walked straight toward the foyer. Just as my hand touched the door handle, a brutal grip clamped around my wrist, jerking me backward. [Sundra, are you actually mad? I am so scared. Are you throwing me away?] [If you leave me, I will die!] [Please don’t throw me away!] The frantic, screaming thoughts swarmed my brain, wrapping tightly around my chest. Shocked, I looked back at Chris. The rims of his eyes were a glaring, bloodshot red. For a second, my heart wavered. Then, his icy voice smashed into me. “You can leave, but take off the shoes on your feet! I bought those for you!” My entire body went rigid. I looked down at the faded, well-worn flats on my feet. He bought them for me right after we got married. He had simply dropped the box in the living room without saying a single word. But his thoughts had leaked out from the bedroom. [Wife, did you see them? Come ask me about them. Ask me if I bought them just for you.] [I had them custom-made. Come praise me, wife!] [I want you to be the happiest bride in the whole world.] For six years, I cherished these shoes. I wore them everywhere. Not just because Chris bought them, but because they represented the fierce, burning love he couldn’t say out loud. But now. I squatted down, my fingers numb, and slowly slipped the shoes off. “Fine. They are yours.” Chris’s face turned even darker. The red in his eyes looked like suppressed rage. His mother hurried over, trying to run interference. “Sundra, you have been with Chris for ten years. You know he never means what he says. How could he actually let you walk out of here barefoot? He is just using this as an excuse to make you stay.” The moment the words left her mouth, Chris grabbed the shoes from the floor and tossed them straight into the roaring fireplace. “You wore them for six years. I find them disgusting now.” His tone was incredibly light, but the words hit my chest like a sledgehammer. Watching the flames swallow the leather, a suffocating pain seized my lungs. I couldn’t breathe. So the shoes I had carefully protected and cleaned for six long years meant absolutely nothing to him. They were just trash to be burned. Catching sight of my tear-filled eyes, Chris’s inner voice went into a frenzy. [Wife, are you sad? You still care about me, right?] [Just admit you were wrong. Just tell me this was all a joke. I will fill your entire closet with new shoes right now!] [I will buy you so many beautiful shoes!] I listened to his frantic thoughts with total numbness. My heart did not flutter. It did not ache anymore. No matter how beautiful the new shoes were, they would never be the first pair. My relationship with Chris had finally reached the end of its rope. Just like that fire, it had burned until nothing remained but dirty, gray ash. I walked out of the house barefoot. Not a single person chased after me. The only thing I heard was Lily’s gloating voice drifting from the dining room. “Are you really not going to chase your wife? She looked pretty heartbroken.” “Chase her for what?” Chris scoffed. “Let her go. Give it half an hour, and she will come crawling back to apologize.” He didn’t know I was actually leaving for good. My company had offered a highly coveted position at the overseas branch. I took one of the spots. My flight was booked for tomorrow. 3 By the time I got back to our townhouse, the soles of my feet were covered in tiny, bleeding cuts from the pavement. I sat on the edge of the tub, mechanically pouring rubbing alcohol over the wounds. As the sting subsided, I looked around. This used to be our warm, private sanctuary. Now, without me even realizing it, the house was stuffed with Lily’s belongings. “Sundra, Lily gave me this plush bunny. Put it on the sofa. I want to see it every day.” “Sundra, Lily picked out this tie. Does it look good?” “This is the diffuser Lily told me to use in the living room. She said it smells exactly like her.” Whenever I lost my mind and screamed at him over these things, the smirk on his face would only grow deeper. He loved watching me choke on jealousy. It was as if my pain was the only metric he used to measure my love. And his response was always exactly the same. “Sundra, Lily and I just have a professional relationship. Stop being so pathetic and petty.” Day after day, ground down by this endless torture, I gave him exactly what he wanted. I stopped being petty. I was even ready to hand over my title as his wife. After wrapping my feet in bandages, I pulled out a suitcase and began packing what little clothing I had left. Just as I was zipping up the bag, Chris walked in. He reeked of expensive whiskey, his arm slung heavily over Lily’s shoulder. The moment he saw me, he instinctively dropped his arm and opened his mouth to explain. But then his eyes landed on the suitcase beside my leg, and his pupils dilated in shock. At the exact same time, his inner voice roared. [Wife, why are you packing? Are you seriously throwing me away?] [I messed up. I shouldn’t have brought Lily to the family dinner. I just wanted to make you jealous.] [Don’t leave. I absolutely forbid you from leaving!] His face was ghostly pale. His mind was screaming with endless, desperate love, but the words that left his lips were colder than ice. “Sundra, I suggest you think very carefully about what you are doing. If you walk out that door, there are a million women lining up to marry me. But if you leave me, who the hell is going to marry damaged goods like you?” His arrogant, condescending tone blew away the very last speck of hope in my soul. I gave him a tired smile. “Okay. Then go find those other women.” Chris’s hands balled into tight fists. Suddenly, right in front of my face, he wrapped his arm around Lily’s waist and pulled her flush against his chest. “Maybe I will just marry Lily then.” “She is sweet, gentle, and way more competent than you. More importantly, unlike you, she actually has a working body. Six years and your stomach is still completely flat. She has plenty of time to give me an heir.” His provocative words made my breath shudder. Everyone knew children were my ultimate forbidden topic. Six years ago, Chris suffered a massive mental breakdown and ran off into a blizzard. While searching for him, I fell through the ice of a frozen lake. The damage to my body was permanent. Getting pregnant became an impossible dream. But I still wanted a baby. Desperately. To get pregnant, I drank horrible herbal brews every single night. I went through five agonizing rounds of IVF. Chris knew this better than anyone on earth, yet he still chose to use a child as a weapon to gut me. My eyes burned with tears. “Chris, you are a monster.” Seeing my tears, a flash of panic crossed Chris’s eyes. He took a subconscious step forward. But Lily suddenly clamped her hands onto his arm, pressing her chest against him. Her voice was sickeningly sweet. “But Sundra, Chris is just stating facts, right?” “It has been six years, and you haven’t produced a single thing.” “Any other man would have kicked you to the curb years ago. Chris put up with it for six whole years!” “He hasn’t even said he is tired of you yet, and here you are throwing around the word divorce and packing your bags. Aren’t you being a little too selfish? You have zero appreciation for how much Chris tolerates you.” Chris froze in his tracks. The panic in his eyes was rapidly replaced by a chilling detachment. He agreed with Lily. He actually thought I was being selfish and ungrateful. “Sundra, it seems I really have been too nice to you.” His gaze swept over my suitcase. Before I could even react, he lunged forward, violently snatching the bag from my grip. He yanked it so hard the zipper busted open. My clothes scattered all over the hardwood floor. He stepped directly onto my clean shirts with his leather shoes. Then, with terrifying precision, he reached into the bottom of the broken suitcase and pulled out a velvet box. Inside was a vintage emerald bracelet. It was my late mother’s heirloom. He looked down at me from his towering height. “Sundra, do I need to remind you? I spent five million dollars getting this bracelet back from the auction house.” All the blood drained from my face. 4 When my family went bankrupt, my mother had to sell her only family heirloom to pay off debts. When she passed away, getting that emerald bracelet back became her dying wish. When Chris found out, he pulled every string he had and spent a massive fortune to win it back for me. Back then, I cried so hard I couldn’t breathe. I told him I had no idea how I could ever repay him. His voice was calm, but his eyes were overflowing with pure devotion. “Then just pay me back with yourself.” “Sundra, I want to marry you.” Using that emerald bracelet in place of a ring, he slipped my mother’s legacy onto my wrist. And now, he looked at me and said, “The only reason I gave this to you was because I was going to marry you. Now you want a divorce. You are no longer going to be my wife, so what right do you have to take it with you?” “You don’t seriously think a woman like you is worth five million dollars, do you?” His brutal words smashed my pride into a million jagged pieces. I swallowed the heavy, agonizing lump in my throat. “Five million. I will find a way to get the money and pay you back…” “I don’t need your money!” Chris roared, cutting me off. “Sundra, do you think I give a damn about the money?” “…You are the one who is throwing this family away. You are throwing everything away. So I am going to save this bracelet for a woman who actually wants to be my wife.” He grabbed Lily’s wrist and brutally shoved the emerald bracelet onto her arm. Just like he did when he asked me to marry him six years ago. Lily turned her head slightly. Where Chris couldn’t see, she looked me dead in the eye and mouthed the words: [Dead people’s jewelry. Gross.] A violent surge of adrenaline exploded in my chest. I lunged forward, desperately clawing at her arm to get it back. “If you think it’s gross, then give it back to me!” The second my fingers grazed Lily’s skin, she let out an ear-piercing shriek and threw herself backward onto the marble tiles. Her wrist slammed against the hard floor. The fragile, century-old emerald hit the stone and shattered into several jagged pieces. My mind went completely blank. Chris froze, just as stunned. Lily held up her slightly scraped arm, sobbing hysterically. “Chris… it hurts so much…” Chris snapped out of his daze and violently shoved me backward. “Sundra, you are insane! That was your mother’s dying wish, and you destroyed it just because you wanted to hurt Lily!” I crashed heavily onto the floor. The violent impact sent a bizarre, sharp cramp tearing through my lower abdomen. Trembling, I fought through the pain to explain. “I didn’t push her. Lily threw herself backward on purpose to break the bracelet…” “Shut up!” The veins in Chris’s neck bulged. “You act like a lunatic, and then you try to frame Lily. If you hadn’t attacked her like a rabid dog, the bracelet wouldn’t be…” A flash of pure terror crossed his eyes. At the same moment, his thoughts crashed into my head. [What do I do? The only thing my wife cared about is broken.] [I don’t have a single way to make her stay anymore.] [No… I refuse to just stand here and watch my wife walk away.] Before I could process his thoughts, Chris grabbed me by the shoulders and dragged me off the floor. I was completely disoriented. He hauled me down the hall and violently shoved me into the dark, windowless wine cellar. “You hurt Lily, and you are clearly out of your mind. You are going to stay locked in here for a day until you calm down.” The cramping in my stomach suddenly escalated into an excruciating, twisting agony. I felt a warm stream of blood seeping between my thighs. Pure, unadulterated panic swallowed me whole.

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I Loved the Boy Next Door for Ten Years, and He Loathed Me for Ten. Finally, I Slept With Him and Left Him a $200 Tip. My childhood best friend felt deeply humiliated and relentlessly “hunted” me down everywhere. But he couldn’t find me. I hid from him for three years, until my father passed away and I became an orphan. His parents told me, “From now on, our home is your home. That boy is your older brother.” I looked at his face, which contorted with humiliation and rage the second he saw me, and cheerfully called out, “Hi, big brother!” 01 I hid from Holden for exactly three years. The reason I remember it so clearly is because the night I slept with him was New Year’s Eve during my freshman year winter break. That night, there were fireworks going off everywhere outside. And today is New Year’s Eve of my senior year winter break. I was dragging my suitcase, wanting to buy some fruit before heading up to the apartment. Unexpectedly, I bumped right into Holden. He hadn’t changed much. Hood pulled up, hands shoved in his pockets, radiating that lazy, effortless bad-boy vibe. —You couldn’t tell he was a bastard at all. A beautiful bastard. The moment he walked into the convenience store, I instinctively turned my back and pulled my baseball cap down low. “Holden, back for some fruit?” The female owner was young, and her eyes lit up the moment she saw him. “The new batch of grapefruits is great, take a couple back for your parents to try.” Holden said, “I don’t eat sour things.” “How about cherries? Guaranteed sweet.” “I hate sweet things even more.” …I wanted to smack him. Eat it if you want, if not, get lost. But the owner’s enthusiasm didn’t wane. When he was paying, she even forced a few apples into his bag. This was Holden’s special treatment. With that handsome face, he was the local prince wherever he went. When he was ten, Holden would walk down the street empty-handed and come back with his pockets stuffed full of snacks from the neighbors. It used to make me cry out of jealousy. Now, at twenty, the people giving him snacks had changed generation after generation. But he was still the prince. The owner asked, “Holden, heading home alone this year?” “Yeah.” “I heard from the neighbors you were planning to bring a girlfriend back this year.” Holden has a girlfriend? My ears instinctively perked up. 02 Holden gave a soft chuckle. When he laughed, he had this slight nasal tone that tickled your ears. Three years ago on New Year’s Eve, I heard it up close. It didn’t just tickle my ears; after hearing it enough, it tickled my heart. “It’s a rumor,” he said. Owner: “I knew a guy like you would have high standards. It’s hard to find the right girl. What type do you like? I have a younger sister, she’s super sweet…” “I hate sweet, cutesy girls.” Yeah, I could almost picture the exact expression on Holden’s face when he said that. On my sixteenth birthday, I got a lacy dress. I wore it to show Holden. He used that exact disgusted tone and said, “Maggie, I hate cutesy girls.” The owner chuckled awkwardly. “Well, you should still find a girlfriend soon to give your parents some peace of mind.” “Don’t worry, I have a girlfriend.” Holden drawled lazily: “I just haven’t decided which girlfriend to bring back.” Owner: … Somehow, coming from this bastard’s mouth, such an outrageous statement actually sounded perfectly reasonable. After a while, the store fell quiet. I figured Holden must have left. I reached for the last melon on the display. A long, slender hand suddenly shot out and intercepted the melon mid-air. “Sorry, I grabbed it first.” That lazy voice echoed right above my head. He said sorry, but I couldn’t sense a single ounce of guilt. “But I might consider letting you have it.” Holden’s clear, piercing voice struck my eardrums— “If you just turn around.” 03 My cursed history with Holden goes back twelve years. My dad took me from our small rural town and moved us to Chicago. He and Holden’s dad were army buddies. After they got discharged, their lives went in completely opposite directions. My dad got the short end of the stick. The city was expensive. He drove a city bus, barely making enough to scrape by. As for why we had to live in the city, my dad said the schools were better here, so I could get into a good college. Rent in the city was brutal. Thank God for Holden’s dad, who let us stay in a small adjacent apartment they owned. Holden’s parents were amazing to me. My dad was out driving a lot, so after school, I’d just go to Holden’s house for dinner. I basically ate with Holden, lived near Holden, and went to school with Holden. But, he didn’t like me. Holden’s friends were mostly good-looking or came from wealthy families. I was a chubby, tanned little country bumpkin. I stubbornly followed him everywhere, which annoyed the hell out of him. Once, he intentionally ditched me at a local carnival, almost causing me to get lost. Holden got the beating of a lifetime for that. He probably still has the scars on his ass. He hated me even more after that, constantly thinking of ways to prank me. But I was so silly back then. I always felt Holden was different from the boys back in my hometown. He was so good-looking, his skin so pale. When he smiled, he seemed to glow. No matter how he pranked me, I stubbornly trailed behind him. This blind worship eventually blossomed into a teenage crush during puberty. Looking back now, Holden’s annoyance with me was completely undisguised. One spring, all the flowers at school were blooming. Holden’s friends asked him what his favorite flower was. Holden said, “I don’t have a favorite, only a least favorite. I absolutely hate magnolias. They’re too sweet, too cloying, they smell awful.” As he said it, he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. My name is Magnolia, Maggie for short. He said that entirely on purpose for me to hear. But I was dense. I still followed him around every single day, practically driving him crazy. Finally, the year we graduated high school, a minor incident occurred. I asked Holden, “Where are you applying for college?” Holden thought about it. “New York.” I eagerly applied to schools in New York. It wasn’t until the acceptance letters arrived that I found out. Holden was going to Boston. He lied to me, just to get away from me. What a cruel reality. 04 During the first semester of freshman year, if I didn’t reach out, Holden wouldn’t contact me either. He had his own life, his own social circle. He was brilliant, top of his major, and famously known as the hottest guy on campus. There were always beautiful girls in his group photos. I went to Boston to visit him once. His friends asked, “Holden, who’s the chick?” Holden said, “My dad’s friend’s daughter.” I froze right then and there. We had known each other for ten years, and in the end, I wasn’t even considered a regular friend. I felt a sudden, crushing disappointment. But I refused to just give up like that. I plotted for a long time, and on New Year’s Eve during winter break, I slept with Holden. We both had some drinks that night. Holden was a lightweight and got drunk fast. I, however, was exceptionally sober. When I got close, he said, “Maggie, do you even know what you’re doing?” I asked him back, “Holden, do you even know how long I’ve liked you?” Holden fell silent. I reached out to unbutton his shirt. He grabbed my wrist, and it hurt a little. I hissed in pain, tears welling up in my eyes. Holden instantly let go. A flash of guilt crossed his eyes, but maybe I imagined it. Because immediately after, he said something like a true bastard: “Maggie, you look really ugly when you cry.” “It’s fine, you’ll be crying in a minute too.” My bold words didn’t exactly pan out. I was the one crying in the end. But Holden was very gentle that night. Afterward, he held me and whispered, “I’m sorry I lied to you about college.” I ignored him. He twirled my long hair around his finger and sighed helplessly, “Stop crying, Mags. I’ll go to grad school in New York, okay?” What did that have to do with me? I had already decided to let go. Tonight was just about giving myself some closure. After all, I had been an idiot for so many years. It felt like a loss if I didn’t get him at least once. Now that I had him, I wouldn’t obsess over him anymore. Early the next morning, before Holden woke up, I bolted. Oh, right. He had paid for the motel room. I didn’t want to owe him, so I left a $200 tip for my half of the bill. But this action seemed to cause a bit of a misunderstanding… I deleted all of Holden’s contact info and cut him off completely. I heard from my high school best friend that Holden felt immensely humiliated and was relentlessly “hunting” me down everywhere. He even showed up at my campus. He came several times but never caught me. The most memorable instance was May of my sophomore year. My roommate recounted it to me later: Holden looked like an erupting volcano that day, ready to catch me and tear me to shreds. He stopped my roommate and demanded fiercely, “Where the hell did Maggie go now?!” My roommate said, “Oh, didn’t you know? Today is Valentine’s Day.” “—She went out to celebrate with her boyfriend.” In that moment. It was like a torrential downpour instantly extinguishing the volcano. Holden stood frozen in place, not moving an inch for a very, very long time. 05 To clarify, the dating part was true. I didn’t like Holden anymore, so what’s wrong with dating? Not only did I date, I dated several guys over time. And Holden knew about every single one of my exes. My best friend kept him updated. Holden never stopped holding his grudge against me. He had been on a pedestal for twenty years, only to be “humiliated” by the little sidekick he used to look down on. I’d be pissed too. I heard he even stormed back to my rural hometown. Unfortunately, that was the year my dad went to New York for medical treatment, so I didn’t go home. He couldn’t catch anyone, acting like a bitter, abandoned ex. This game of cat and mouse played out for three years. And today, it was finally coming to an end. Because moving forward, I was going to spend my holidays at Holden’s house. My dad passed away last winter. I didn’t have a home anymore. Holden was currently standing right behind me, way too close. He tapped his finger against the melon, tap, tap. “Turn around. I’ll buy this melon for you.” I didn’t move a muscle. He quickly got bored. “Don’t turn around then. Just kidding. I’m out.” That was Holden. His interest in anything never lasted more than three minutes. This time, he really left. Even though in ten minutes, we were going to reunite in his living room anyway. Even though we used to be inseparable. Even though he hated my guts right now. We still had to sit down and eat New Year’s dinner together. I carried the pile of fruit to the register. The owner gave me a few extra looks. “Young lady, you look a little familiar.” “I have a generic face.” “Oh, please. As pretty as you are, there’s no way you have a generic face,” she tsked, saying confidently. “I’ve definitely seen you somewhere. Especially those dimples.” It was normal that she didn’t recognize me. I had changed a lot. After puberty, I lost a ton of weight, and after spending years in the city staying out of the sun, my skin cleared up and brightened. I was no longer that dark, chubby little country girl. In a recent campus poll, I even won the title of “Communications Department Sweetheart.” Oh, right. Holden actually showed up in that poll thread. He commented: “Bullshit sweetheart. Are everyone’s eyes in the Communications department broken??” The only reason I recognized him was because his username was “ImTheKing.” After paying, I grabbed the fruit and left. The moment I pushed the door open, an icy stare landed on my back. “Buying all this, where exactly are you heading?” Holden hadn’t left. He was leaning against the wall, looking like he’d been waiting for me for a while. I ignored him and sped up. He quickly caught up, taking a long stride to block my path. He snatched the baseball cap right off my head. “Did you have fun playing me, Maggie?” 06 Yeah, it was fun. I wanted to say that, but obviously, I couldn’t. Holden scoffed. “Three years and you’ve gone mute?” I looked up at him with a sweet, innocent smile. “Hi Holden. Long time no see.” Since I couldn’t avoid him anyway, I might as well face him bravely. But Holden wasn’t smiling. He just stared at me, like he wanted to burn a hole through my skull. His expression was too calm. Terrifyingly calm. Only his slightly red eyes and trembling hands gave him away. I don’t know how long we stood there. Long enough that people walking by were staring at us. Finally, Holden looked down and took my suitcase. Neither of us spoke on the way back. Holden walked fast, with absolutely no intention of waiting for me. I had to jog just to keep up. He seemed to have grown even taller. He looked to be at least 6’2″. He walked faster and faster, and I couldn’t help but speak up. “Holden, slow down.” Holden stiffened. —It was exactly like before. He’d walk in front, and I’d follow behind, chattering away, calling out, “Holden, Holden!” It had been a long time since we felt this dynamic. Holden sounded impatient. “Are your legs just short?” But his pace noticeably slowed down. “Your legs are long, you have the longest legs,” I fired back without hesitation. “Too bad you didn’t grow in the places that actually matter.” The words slipped out. The double entendre was instantly established. I meant his emotional intelligence and his narrow perspective. But… Holden had already snapped his head around, his lips pressed tightly together, his face a mix of humiliation and pure disbelief. “Is that why you left without saying goodbye?!” Me: … This was bad. Holden the Bastard—I mean, Holden the Prince—had a huge ego. And I had just shattered it in one blow. He dragged me into the stairwell, relentlessly demanding that I break down what I just said and explain it in detail. I threw my hands up. “There’s nothing to explain. I meant exactly what I said.” “You must be remembering it wrong. You drank too much that night.” “Whatever, it’s not important.” “It’s incredibly important!” Holden’s cheeks flushed, probably out of anger. “No, I have to prove myself.” I was just about to ask, how exactly are you going to prove it, when I saw Holden put his hands on his belt buckle. I froze. “You’ve gotta be kidding me…” What kind of childhood friend drops their pants on the first day of their reunion? Holden’s expression told me he was dead serious. He was betting his dignity on this. Before I knew it. He had already unbuckled his belt. 07 Right at that exact moment, Holden’s dad pushed the apartment door open. “Is Maggie here yet?” Holden froze. I dodged in front of him, blocking him from view. “Hi, Mr. Brooks! I just got here!” “Did you run into Holden? The kid said he was going downstairs to buy fruit. It’s been over an hour and he wouldn’t come up. Said he was waiting for you.” I paused for a second. When I looked back, Holden’s pants were securely fastened. He awkwardly averted his gaze. “I was just taking a walk.” Once we were inside, Mr. Brooks casually asked, “What were you two dawdling about outside just now?” Both Holden and I went dead silent. Mrs. Brooks chimed in, “The kids haven’t seen each other in so long. They were probably just catching up.” “Exactly.” I nodded vigorously. “It’s been way too long since I saw my big brother.” Holden: “Who’s your brother? Stop calling me that.” As soon as the words left his mouth, his mom smacked the back of his head. “From now on, our house is Maggie’s house. You are her older brother. You have to protect her.” Holden was stunned. “I don’t want to be her brother!” “Then you can be her younger brother. We don’t mind.” “Mom! That’s not what I mean. I’m actually Maggie’s—” Mrs. Brooks cut him off. “Stop whining. I’m going to go cook.” But I was a little curious. What was Holden trying to say? He’s actually my… what? Over the past three years, it felt like we had zero relationship whatsoever. He couldn’t possibly be planning to tell his parents about what happened three years ago, right?! No, I had to stop him. I looked up and met Holden’s dangerous gaze. I smiled sweetly. “Hi, big brother.” Holden: …

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1 My wife came back from her business trip to Los Angeles and handed me a souvenir. It was a keychain of Dawn Bellwether, the villainous sheep from Zootopia. “Isn’t she cute? The second I saw her, I immediately thought of you.” At that exact moment, I knew she was cheating on me. Vanessa’s public Instagram feed was completely spotless. She only ever shared boring corporate updates and links to industry articles. Out of curiosity, I logged into an old burner account I rarely used and searched for her handle. Her profile had a ‘Close Friends’ story highlight. The very first pinned photo was a selfie of her and my best friend. My best friend, Finn, had just updated his own social media. There was a carousel of nine photos. Every single one of them featured Vanessa in some way. “One week trip. Two days of work, five days of dates. Let’s go!” “She bought the Lightning Lane passes for Disney so we didn’t have to wait in line. Absolute perfection!” “Matching Nick and Judy keychains for us. As for the villainous sheep, I wonder who we should give that to.” accompanied by two smirking emojis. I switched back to my burner account and refreshed Vanessa’s page. Sure enough, she had posted a new picture just an hour ago. The bunny, Judy Hopps, was clipped to her pink designer briefcase. The fox, Nick Wilde, was hanging off Finn’s black leather backpack. The caption was just two words. “A pair.” All the oxygen was instantly sucked out of the room. My lungs completely forgot how to work. So she knew exactly what she was doing. She knew the fox and the bunny were a romantic couple. We had dated for three years and been married for two. Yet somehow, in her twisted romance with Finn, I was nothing more than the villain standing in their way. I logged back into my main account and tapped on Vanessa’s profile. I couldn’t see a single thing. It wasn’t that she had blocked me. She had explicitly told me years ago that she never posted personal photos. When we were dating, I used to complain about it. I begged her to post a picture of us together just once. She would just hold my hand and laugh at me for being childish. “Declan, I am a business professional now. If I post cheesy couple photos on my feed, what will my investors think?” “If they think I’m distracted or unreliable, they’ll pull their funding.” “My startup is just getting off the ground. I have to project absolute competence. If I build this company into an empire, we’ll be set for life. Isn’t that what matters?” I swallowed those hypocritical excuses for five entire years. It was all a lie. She could post photos. She could pin matching couple pictures to the top of her page. The subject just wasn’t me. It was Finn. The boy who grew up in the house next door to mine. The boy I had protected and raised alongside me. The boy I treated as my own flesh and blood. Tears completely blurred my vision, heavy drops hitting my phone screen. I really was childish. I was a complete idiot. I had been flawlessly played by the two people I loved most in this world. Right then, a notification popped up on my phone. A text from Finn. “Declan! Check out my new keychain. Pretty cool, right?” He attached a photo of the solo fox keychain. If this were yesterday, I would have sent back a genuine compliment. But right now, his playful, innocent tone made me want to violently throw up. A week ago, Finn had excitedly told me he made a new friend from California and was flying out to LA to hang out for a week. When he told me, he nudged my shoulder with a mischievous grin. “You’re not going to get jealous that I’m going on vacation with someone else, are you?” I was so incredibly naive. I thought he was just joking about our bromance. I played along, acting like the generous older brother. “Obviously not! You can make a hundred new friends, but I’ll always be your best man.” “But if you dare find a friend better than me, you’re dead meat!” I had even factored in Vanessa’s schedule. “Actually, Vanessa is flying to LA for a conference in a couple of days. If you and your friend run into any trouble, just call her.” Finn had laughed so hard he bent over, raising his hand as if taking an oath. “I swear on my life, I will never find a friend better than Declan Reed.” “Don’t worry, man. I will text you every single day. I’ll tell you exactly what I’m doing and where I’m going. You’re going to virtually experience LA with me!” I never could have imagined that the vacation I was virtually experiencing was my own wife’s romantic getaway. 2 I didn’t reply to his photo. Instead, I scrolled up through our chat history. Two nights ago, he sent me a barrage of texts. “We went to a crazy expensive Michelin star place tonight! It was insane, but thank God my friend paid! We have to go together next time, Declan!” “Disneyland was packed today, my feet are killing me.” Over the past few days, he had flawlessly shared his entire itinerary with me. And I had eagerly replied to every single text, genuinely thrilled that he was finally stepping out of his shell and enjoying life. Finn and I grew up in houses directly across from each other. His mother passed away when he was young, and his father was a violent alcoholic. Whenever things got bad at his house, he would run across the street and bang on my front door. I would pull him inside, clean up his bruises, and sneak him my favorite snacks. Since I was two grades ahead of him, I basically became his private tutor. I used to sit with him on my porch and tell him: “Finn, you can’t choose the family you’re born into. But you can study hard, get into a good college, and build a completely new life for yourself.” “Don’t worry, I’ve got your back.” But life doesn’t always work out like a movie. He didn’t get into college, and he couldn’t escape the suffocating grip of his toxic household. Last year, his father finally drank himself to death. Finn called me in the middle of the night, sobbing hysterically. “Declan, my dad is dead. I don’t have a single family member left in the world…” I drove straight to his town, packed his bags, and moved him to Boston with me. I pulled strings to get him a decent job, and introduced him to Vanessa. I wiped his tears and looked him dead in the eye. “I am your family now.” He nodded aggressively and pulled me into a crushing hug. And it only took one single year. One year for him to start sleeping with my wife behind my back. I didn’t know if he ever genuinely viewed me as family. But he clearly viewed my wife as his own. The sound of the deadbolt clicking snapped me out of my trance. The front door swung open. Vanessa walked in. I looked up at her, but the joyful spark that usually accompanied her return from business trips was completely dead. My eyes were dark, empty pools. A flash of surprise crossed her face. She quickly dropped her bags and hurried over, sitting close to me on the sofa. She placed her pink designer briefcase on the coffee table. The Judy Hopps keychain dangling from the handle felt like a physical stab to the chest. She reached out, gently holding my hand, her voice dripping with fake concern. “What’s wrong, honey? Are you feeling sick?” I didn’t answer her. My eyes slowly, mechanically drifted down to the rabbit keychain on her bag. Noticing my gaze, she let out a flawless, airy laugh to explain it away. “Oh, a friend of mine happened to go to Disneyland while I was out there. They sent me pictures of the gift shop and asked if I wanted anything.” “So I picked out the sheep for you, and grabbed the bunny for myself.” I forced a tight, hollow smile onto my face. “Was that friend Finn?” She paused for a microscopic second, but her tone remained perfectly casual. “Haha, he told you already? I guess that makes sense. You guys are best friends, he tells you everything.” She glanced down at my phone screen and saw the photo Finn had just sent me. “Oh, look at that. He bought the fox for himself. That’s pretty cute.” Even now, backed into a corner of her own making, she was still effortlessly spinning lies. I stared directly into her eyes. This was the face I had deeply loved for five years. But in this exact moment, she looked like a completely repulsive stranger. “Did you know the fox and the bunny are a romantic couple?” I heard my own voice ask the question. Vanessa visibly stiffened, but she recovered with terrifying speed. “How would I know that? I haven’t even seen the movie. You know I don’t care about childish cartoons.” “I was swamped with meetings all week. I wasn’t paying attention to what Finn was buying.” “Honestly, he is so clueless. Why didn’t he just tell me it was a matching set?” Without missing a beat, she confidently snatched my phone from my hand and held down the voice memo button on Finn’s chat. “Finn, it’s Vanessa. Why does the keychain you bought perfectly match the one you gave me? You didn’t explain it at all, and now Declan is misunderstanding things. You better text him right now and clear this up!” 3 The screen showed the typing bubble for an agonizingly long time. Finally, a text popped up. “Oh my god, I seriously didn’t even notice! Sorry about that! Declan, you’re definitely not mad at me, right?” Vanessa handed my phone back, looking incredibly smug, as if expecting an apology from me. “There. Misunderstanding completely resolved!” “Is this why you were giving me the cold shoulder? You were jealous over a piece of plastic?” “Finn already apologized. He’s just a tragic kid with zero social awareness. Don’t be so hard on him.” Having delivered her perfect alibi, she dramatically checked her luxury watch. “I have a dinner meeting with some major clients tonight. I literally only came home to drop off my luggage and see your handsome face.” “Be a good boy. Your wife has to go make us some money.” She playfully pinched my cheek, turned on her heel, and walked right back out the door. Watching the door click shut behind her, the final lingering trace of hope in my heart turned to ash. I walked into the master bathroom, splashed freezing water on my face, and pulled out her massive suitcases. I started packing. Every single piece of clothing, every pair of shoes, every piece of jewelry that belonged to Vanessa. When the bags were full, I called a premium moving company and instructed them to deliver everything to Finn’s downtown apartment. The apartment I was currently paying the rent for. When we first got married, Vanessa’s startup was bleeding money. We were completely broke. My parents had paid the down payment on the house we currently lived in. Since she decided to step out of our marriage, she permanently lost the right to step foot in this house. As the movers were hauling the last few boxes out the door, my phone buzzed twice. It was a text from Vanessa. “Honey, the client is dragging this dinner out. It’s going to be super late. I’m just going to book a hotel room downtown so I don’t wake you up when I get back.” Ha. If I hadn’t already seen the truth with my own two eyes, I would have been deeply moved by her incredible thoughtfulness. But right now, that text was just a convenient reminder. I pulled up my burner account and searched Finn’s page. Just as I predicted, he had uploaded a brand new picture to his Close Friends story. It was a photo of Vanessa. She had kicked off her designer heels, and her nylon-clad feet were resting comfortably across Finn’s lap. The caption read: “She told her boring husband she was out with a client.” I let out a bitter scoff. I meticulously screenshotted his entire feed. I did the same for Vanessa’s hidden profile, making sure not to miss a single post or timestamp. I compiled all the screenshots into a secure folder and emailed it directly to my lawyer. “My wife is having an affair. I am filing for a contested divorce. Please send me a list of all required documentation.” The exact second Finn sent that fake apology text to Declan, he had immediately messaged Vanessa. “Vee, please come over tonight. Declan sounded so scary, I’m really freaking out.” accompanied by two pleading emojis. Reading that text, Vanessa’s heart fluttered. Declan had introduced Finn as his childhood best friend. But from the very first time she met Finn, she knew exactly what he was doing. He was practically undressing her with his eyes. Initially, she found him pathetic and beneath her notice. But Finn was incredibly skilled at playing the victim. His tragic backstory, his teary-eyed vulnerable looks, the way he would gently tug on her sleeve and softly call her “Vee.” It gave Vanessa an intoxicating rush of power. She felt worshipped. She felt like a god. It was a dynamic she could never have with Declan. So she secretly crossed the line and started sleeping with Finn. The very first time she went to his apartment, he buried his face in her chest and cried softly. “Vee, I feel so incredibly insecure. I feel like the second you walk out that door, you stop belonging to me.” Those words stroked her massive ego. Right then and there, she posted a selfie of them cuddling in bed and pinned it to the top of her profile. Obviously, she meticulously blocked Declan and every single mutual acquaintance they shared. Because she never had the slightest intention of letting Declan find out, and she certainly never intended to actually divorce him. Declan was her rock. They had built a life together. Declan was handsome, fiercely independent, and incredibly supportive. During the darkest days of her startup, Declan’s financial and emotional backing kept her afloat. Why would she ever throw away a perfect husband for a broken toy like Finn? But the kid needed constant reassurance, and she liked playing the savior. So she fabricated a client dinner and drove straight to Finn’s apartment. Of course, she wasn’t just going there to comfort him. She had something far more important to deal with. 4 She needed to remind Finn to stay in his lane. He was getting sloppy, and she couldn’t risk Declan getting suspicious. The moment she unlocked the apartment door, Finn practically threw himself at her. He helped her take off her trench coat, fetched her slippers, and linked his arm through hers to pull her toward the sofa. “Vee…” Finn barely got a word out before Vanessa coldly cut him off. “You need to be more careful.” Finn blinked in confusion. “What?” She frowned, her tone sharpening. “I said be careful. Don’t let Declan catch on. If you buy a matching plushie, keep it in your bedroom. Why the hell did you send him a picture of it?” “And all those pictures of the restaurants and the theme park? Why are you sending him a play-by-play? Are you trying to provoke him? Are you showing off?” “Finn, you need to remember your exact place in this arrangement.” Finn looked instantly devastated. He lowered his eyes, his voice trembling. “I wasn’t… I just… You and Declan are legally married. I barely get to spend any time with you. I just couldn’t help myself…” His eyes grew glassy with tears. He looked incredibly fragile and pitiful. Historically, this specific look was his ultimate weapon against her. But tonight, the memory of Declan’s cold, calculating stare back at the house was making her deeply anxious. Suddenly, Finn’s pathetic whining just felt incredibly annoying. “Enough. Where is that fox keychain? Go throw it in the trash.” Finn reluctantly obeyed, looking like a kicked puppy. Seeing his depressed slump, Vanessa finally sighed. “Get dressed. I’ll take you out to a nice dinner.” On their way to the restaurant, they drove past a massive moving truck heading the opposite direction. During dinner, Finn shamelessly tried to play footsie under the table, doing everything he could to seduce her. But Vanessa was completely distracted. She felt a lingering sense of dread. Just as she was about to tell him to stop acting like a child and eat his food, Finn’s cell phone rang. He answered it, his tone instantly shifting to arrogant annoyance. “Yeah, who is this?” “Hello, is this Mr. Finn?” “We are calling from the logistics company. We have a massive shipment of personal belongings registered to a Ms. Vanessa to drop off at your residence.” “Are you currently home to sign for it?” 5 The private dining room was dead quiet, and the caller’s voice leaked clearly through the speaker. Vanessa’s head snapped up. She stared dead at Finn. But Finn acted as if he had been anticipating this exact call. He casually replied to the dispatcher. “Just leave it all stacked in the hallway outside my door.” He hung up. Vanessa’s brow furrowed aggressively. “What belongings of mine?” Finn slid into the booth next to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and softening his voice into a sweet purr. “Vee, I bought a few little surprises for you. A high-end massage chair, and a brand new memory foam mattress.” “I just wanted to make sure you were as comfortable as possible whenever you stay over.” Finn honestly believed this grand, thoughtful gesture would melt her heart and earn him a night of passionate rewards. Instead, Vanessa physically shoved his arm away. Her voice was ice cold. “Finn, you crossed a major line.” Finn froze, the smile dying on his face. “I warned you to remember your place.” “I do not need you buying furniture for me. Your only job is to sit quietly in your apartment and wait until I decide to call you.” “Declan literally pays your rent. He drops by your apartment sometimes. If he sees a brand new luxury mattress and a massage chair, what exactly are you going to tell him? What if he starts digging?” Her tone grew even harsher. “I am going to spend the next few weeks at home focusing on Declan. Do not contact me, and do not do anything stupid.” Finn was entirely blindsided by this reaction. He froze for a few seconds, then slowly lowered his head. His eyes turned bright red, and he practically whispered. “I understand… But Vee, can you just stay with me tonight? Just for tonight.” He knew exactly which angle made him look the most tragically beautiful. And sure enough, looking at his broken, desperate expression, Vanessa’s cold exterior finally cracked. “Fine. One last night.” After dinner, they drove back to Finn’s apartment complex. The moment the elevator doors slid open on his floor, they were greeted by an absolute mountain of stuff. It clearly wasn’t just a mattress and a massage chair. Dozens of heavy cardboard boxes and premium luggage bags were stacked meticulously from the floor to the ceiling, completely barricading Finn’s front door. Vanessa’s frown deepened into a scowl. Finn looked genuinely baffled. “This… did they deliver to the wrong floor? Let me call the company back.” For some inexplicable reason, a terrifying chill ran down Finn’s spine. He instinctively stepped away from Vanessa, ducking into the concrete stairwell to redial the number. The logistics dispatcher verified the address three separate times. “No mistake, sir. The receiver is listed as you. But the client who paid for the delivery was a Mr. Declan Reed. He gave us strict orders to leave everything at your exact door.” All the blood instantly drained from Finn’s face. … Vanessa stood alone in the hallway, leaning against the wall, impatiently waiting for Finn to return. Her eyes wandered aimlessly over the mountain of boxes. Suddenly, her gaze locked onto a piece of luggage near the bottom. A matte black Rimowa suitcase. It had a very distinct, deep scratch near the handle. She recognized that suitcase immediately. It was hers. Her heart began to hammer violently against her ribs. She pulled the heavy suitcase out of the stack, laid it flat on the carpet, and unzipped it. Inside were her expensive silk blouses and tailored skirts, folded flawlessly. Clothes that were supposed to be hanging in the walk-in closet she shared with Declan. Breathing heavily, she ripped open the tape on the nearest cardboard boxes. Her business books. Her corporate documents. Even the glass wind chimes they had bought together in Hawaii for their first wedding anniversary. The ones that were supposed to be hanging by their bedroom window. Every single thing she owned was sitting in this hallway. Vanessa’s hands began to shake uncontrollably. She sprinted down the hall and violently kicked open the heavy door to the stairwell. When Finn saw her face, he instinctively backed up against the concrete wall in pure terror. “Did you tell Declan about us?!” The elegant, composed businesswoman from dinner was completely gone. She looked like a cornered, feral animal. Finn shook his head frantically, holding his hands up in defense. “No! I swear to God I didn’t!” “I block Declan on every single post I make! You know that! You personally check my phone before I post anything!” Vanessa didn’t believe a word coming out of his mouth. She violently snatched the phone out of his hand. She scrolled manically through his Instagram settings, his hidden lists, and even read through their entire private text history. There were absolutely no leaks. It was flawless.

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I was kept as a caged bird for ten years. Until the day I died, he never once promised me a wedding. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to ten years ago. To avoid repeating the nightmare, the very first thing I did after my rebirth was track down his future arch-nemesis. At this moment, the man was still just a broke, grease-stained mechanic. I slapped my debit card onto the table. “Marry me. After we’re married, you get my entire paycheck!” The man gritted his teeth. “For two grand a month, you’ve got a deal.” 1 I proposed to Jake Miller. At that moment, the man had a cigarette dangling from his lips. “What exactly do you see in me?” I thought about it for a long time before squeezing out, “You’re handsome?” “Heh.” His scoff made my face burn bright red. I gathered my courage and asked, “So, is that a yes?” Jake didn’t say anything. He just stared at me intently. It was as if he could see right through my little scheme. I braced myself and met his gaze, hoping he could see my sincerity. After a long silence, he smiled. With a careless, cynical drawl, he replied, “A wife delivering herself right to my door? Why wouldn’t I say yes?” And just like that, I got married. On the second day after traveling back in time. Clutching the marriage license in my pocket, a deep sense of unreality washed over me. I had actually met Jake in my past life. It was during my seventh year of being locked away by Carter Sterling. I had escaped from the mansion, completely penniless. Wandering the streets, I ran into Jake. By then, he was already a renowned, incredibly successful entrepreneur. Impeccably dressed, he carried a ruthless aura that warned strangers to stay away. I begged him to save me. Jake helped arrange a safe house for me and provided a plane ticket out of the country. But eventually, Carter still found me. Unwilling to dwell on those dark memories, I looked up at Jake and asked, “Where to next?” “Taking you home.” I blinked, surprised. “Didn’t we… just get married?” “So?” “So, weren’t you planning to… take me to our home?” 2 Jake lived in a half-finished apartment complex. The roof hadn’t even been fully sealed yet. The place was swarming with construction workers coming and going. “I used to do day labor here and got to know the site manager. Until the building is officially handed over, I’m crashing here to save on rent,” Jake explained voluntarily, probably noticing the confusion in my eyes. The apartment was raw, bare-concrete industrial style. Aside from a canvas camp cot, it was completely empty. The bathroom didn’t even have a flushing toilet, and the shower was just a single cold-water spigot protruding from the wall. Jake looked at me. “Regretting it? It’s not too late to run.” “I don’t regret it.” I set my suitcase to the side. “Are we both sleeping on this tonight? The bed seems a little small.” Jake narrowed his eyes. “It’s big enough.” When night fell, I lay on Jake’s camp cot. The man had casually laid out a couple of newspapers and lay down on the hard concrete floor. There were no curtains, and the bright moonlight poured right through the glass. “Jake, are you asleep?” “Yeah.” Worried he’d catch a cold sleeping on the concrete, I scooted over to one edge of the cot. “Do you want to come up and sleep here?” The bed was narrow, but if we squeezed, we could make it work. A few seconds passed before Jake replied, “If I go up there, you can forget about sleeping.” I gripped my blanket tighter. “I don’t mind.” The moment the words left my mouth, Jake lunged onto the cot and hovered over me like a beast granted permission. Caught off guard, I instinctively turned my head away. The weight above me lifted slightly. In the moonlight, I saw a trace of mockery on Jake’s face. “If you can’t go through with it, don’t play games. I’m a simple guy; I tend to take things seriously.” Saying that, he moved to get back down onto his newspapers. Realizing his intention, I grabbed the hem of his shirt. My fingers slipped through the fabric, brushing against his skin. Jake shuddered, a dark, complex emotion flashing in his eyes as he looked down at me. I bit my lip hard. “I really am willing.” Terrified he would say no, my hand recklessly traced a line across his stomach. Jake’s eyes darkened instantly. “You’re out of chances to back out now.” Unlike the gym-sculpted muscles Carter used to flaunt. Jake’s body was naturally tanned from years of manual labor. His core was rock-solid, his entire frame radiating raw power. Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore. He only stopped when I was sobbing and trembling. He roughly kissed away my tears and muttered, “So delicate.” His tone sounded almost dissatisfied. My whole body was aching terribly, and instead of comforting me, he had scolded me for no reason. I got upset, turning on my side and refusing to look at him. The man didn’t try to coax me. He got out of bed and walked off somewhere. Clutching the blanket, the more I thought about it, the more wronged I felt. In my past life, I was kept as Carter’s caged bird for ten years. It was only through death that I finally found freedom. I thought heaven had taken pity on me by giving me a second chance. I hadn’t expected Jake to act like a completely different person. Just as I was crying, a hot towel was suddenly pressed against my face. I didn’t know when Jake had returned, but he was holding a plastic basin and a steaming towel. “Crying?” I refused to admit it. “No.” Jake clumsily wiped my face, then turned to wring out the towel. “What are you doing?” “There’s no hot water here, so you can’t shower. A wipe-down will make you feel better.” My skin did feel sticky and uncomfortable. Forgetting my anger, I blushed and tried to grab the towel. “I can do it myself.” “Stay put.” Ignoring my protests, Jake pulled back the blanket and applied the hot towel. A moment later, I heard his voice. “Stop being mad. I’ll go easier next time, alright?” His voice carried a hint of awkwardness. The heat rushed to my cheeks, and the corners of my mouth curled up. I pulled the blanket up to hide my face. 3 When I woke up the next morning, Jake was already fully dressed. Two breakfast buns sat on a low, makeshift table. I had no idea when he had gone out to buy them. “I boiled some water. Finish washing up, and I’ll drop you off at work.” “It’s fine, I can go by myself.” Jake shot me a look. “There are a lot of construction workers around here. It’s not safe for a little girl like you to walk alone.” Then he added, “Call me when you get off work tonight. I’ll pick you up.” As I sluggishly washed up, I finally noticed the debit card sitting on the table. It was the same one I had given Jake when I proposed yesterday. “You forgot your card.” Jake barely glanced at it. “Keep it. I haven’t sunk so low that I need to live off a woman’s money.” Liar. He was clearly broke. Since he didn’t want it, I didn’t argue. I mentally calculated that maybe I could use the savings to rent us a better apartment. Or, if Jake refused to move, at least buy a real bed. Even though I didn’t have the “golden cage” from my past life, looking at Jake made me feel an inexplicable sense of security. That good mood lasted all the way to work. As soon as I walked into the teachers’ office, Lily Evans strutted over, looking secretive. “Maya, I’ve got great news for you!” She lowered her voice. “My cousin has his eye on you.” Me: ? She pulled me aside conspiratorially. “My cousin isn’t just anybody. He’s incredibly handsome, has a great personality, and graduated from Harvard. His dad is literally a billionaire. So many rich heiresses throw themselves at him, and he doesn’t bat an eye. But yesterday, he suddenly asked me to set up a blind date with you.” Lily’s eyes sparkled. “Girl, your golden ticket has arrived!” Harvard grad. Billionaire father. A name instantly exploded in my mind. My face drained of color. Controlling my expression, I used the most polite tone I could muster to decline. “You might have to apologize to your cousin for me. I don’t have that kind of luck. I’m already married.” Lily didn’t believe me. “We’ve been coworkers for a year. You’ve never even had a boyfriend. How could you suddenly be married?” “It’s true. We got the license, just haven’t had the ceremony yet. I’ll send you an invitation when we do.” I forced a smile. “I have two classes back-to-back right now. I need to head to the classroom.” With that, I quickly walked away. It wasn’t until I stepped out of the office that all the strength seemed to leave my body. Carter Sterling. In my past life, he definitely hadn’t appeared this early. Why was he showing up so far in advance? And how did he know Lily and I taught at the same elementary school? My hands and feet turned ice cold. I comforted myself with the thought that in this life, I was already married. I already had Jake. I would absolutely never repeat the same mistakes. 4 Carter’s premature appearance definitely threw off my mood. I was distracted all day. My right eyelid wouldn’t stop twitching. I had a sinking feeling something was about to happen. Sure enough, the moment I walked out of the school gates after work, I saw a black SUV parked right in front. The logo was flashy and arrogant. Spotting me, the man stepped out of the vehicle, holding a massive bouquet of roses. “Miss Brooks.” He called out to me, introducing himself with a polished smile. “Forgive the intrusion. I’m Carter Sterling, Lily’s cousin.” The sidewalk was crowded with students heading home and parents picking up their kids. Carter’s bouquet of roses was glaringly conspicuous. Some people recognized me and started clapping, cheering for me to say yes. My face turned pale. “What do you want?” “Don’t be nervous. I just wanted to get to know you,” Carter said, the corners of his mouth lifting. “I happened to see you while waiting for Lily a while back, and I felt a very strong connection. I know I showed up uninvited today. Don’t feel pressured; just treat it as making a new friend.” Even though Carter was playing the part perfectly, I could still sense the crazy, obsessive gleam in his eyes. In my moment of helplessness, I suddenly spotted Jake in the corner. He was straddling a beat-up motorcycle, a cigarette hanging from his lips, watching me with a sideways glance. He looked entirely unbothered, as if none of this had anything to do with him. Like a drowning person spotting driftwood, I sprinted straight toward him. The familiar scent of motor oil on Jake instantly grounded me. I turned back to Carter. “I explained this to Lily earlier. I’m married.” Carter clearly hadn’t expected me to be married. The smile froze on his face. His gaze drifted to Jake, and a flash of pure hatred crossed his eyes. Even though he masked it instantly, my sharp senses caught it. But… hatred? This was supposed to be his very first time meeting Jake. Why would there be hatred? Carter recovered his expression quickly, smoothing out his emotions. “That was presumptuous of me. I should have asked about Miss Brooks’s relationship status first. Since I already bought the flowers, I won’t take them back. Let me just wish you a happy marriage.” He held the bouquet out toward me. “Fresh flowers for a beautiful woman. I’m sure your husband won’t mind.” Before I could speak, Jake suddenly laughed. “Who says I don’t mind?” He stared Carter down. “I’m a petty guy. I can’t stand seeing my gorgeous wife accepting things from other men.” With that, Jake grabbed a small pink helmet and slapped it onto my head. “Put it on.” Looking at the brand-new helmet, my mood inexplicably lifted. I couldn’t help but ask, “Did you buy this just for me?” “Fished it out of a dumpster.” I grinned. “Well, next time can you fish out a blue one? I like blue.” Jake raised an eyebrow and made a move to snatch the helmet back. I hurriedly strapped it on tight, knocking on the hard shell twice with my knuckles. “Does it look good?” A hint of amusement danced in Jake’s eyes. He reached out and snapped the visor down over my face. Then he muttered, “Idiot.” When I looked back, Carter was already gone. Thanks to today’s spectacle, everyone knew my husband was a grease monkey at a repair shop. During recess, I overheard a few teachers gossiping. “So what if she’s pretty? She still ended up with a guy like that.” “You guys didn’t see it, but his motorcycle was a total wreck. Sounded like a damn tractor.” The group burst into laughter. Seeing me walk in, one of them purposely asked, “Maya, where does your hubby fix cars? My husband just bought a Mercedes; we’ll have him do the maintenance from now on to throw some business his way.” “Sure, I’ll text you the address later.” Lily couldn’t stand it anymore and dragged me out of the office. “Are you missing a piece of your brain? They’re openly mocking you, and you don’t even talk back?” “You’re pretty, you have a solid career, how could you settle for…” Lily paused, then continued, “I’m a straight shooter, so don’t get mad. You’re just fresh out of college and naive. You think love conquers all, but when reality hits, you’re going to regret it. Seriously, think about my cousin. He said he doesn’t even mind that you’re technically a divorcee now…” “Lily, that’s a nice bag.” I cut her off, my eyes landing on the Hermès Birkin on her desk. “New?” Lily froze, her face flushing red. “Yeah.” Lily was living on a teacher’s salary. It was glaringly obvious who gave her the bag, and why. I didn’t press the issue. “My husband and I are doing great. How we live our lives is our business. Don’t talk badly about him again. I don’t want to hear it.” 5 When I got off work that day, Jake didn’t show up on his motorcycle. “Where’s your bike?” “Sold it.” Jake didn’t offer any further explanation. The corners of his mouth curled up. “Let’s go.” Jake pulled me along by the hand, but we walked in a different direction than usual. I had no idea what he was up to until we stopped at an apartment complex just a few blocks from my school. “Third floor. Let’s go take a look.” A faint suspicion began to form in my heart. But I didn’t dare believe it. I slowly walked up to the third floor. The door to the middle unit was wide open. Stepping inside, I found a cozy one-bedroom apartment. It wasn’t huge, but it was decorated incredibly warmly. The curtains were the color of the sky, fluttering slightly in the breeze. The setting sun spilled through the windows, bathing the entire room in a golden glow. He actually remembered that I liked blue. I couldn’t describe the feeling. Living across two lifetimes, I had stayed in luxurious mansions and rundown, raw concrete husks. But only in this exact moment did my heart feel completely swollen with happiness. “You sold your motorcycle to rent this place?” Because it was in a good school district, the buildings here were older but the rent was sky-high. Jake’s savings wouldn’t have been enough to cover the standard first month’s rent plus a security deposit. Jake ignored the comment about the motorcycle, simply saying, “It’s close to your school, so your commute is easier. Plus, the other place didn’t have hot water. You’re too delicate to handle that.” Before he even finished speaking, I turned and threw my arms around his waist. Jake was entirely stunned by my sudden leap into his arms. He froze for a moment, then slowly wrapped his arms around my back. “Alright, it’s not time for you to cry yet. Save the crying for tonight, yeah?” So inappropriate! That night, Jake successfully made me cry. The man pulled me into his arms, thoroughly satisfied, and kissed the corner of my mouth. “My wife was right. A double bed really is way better than a single cot. We should have moved sooner.” I-I never said that! I held back my temper, resisting the urge to kick him off the bed. The next day was the weekend. Jake and I had planned to go to the unfinished building to grab the last of my things. By afternoon, Jake still hadn’t come home. “I probably won’t have time today. Something came up at the shop.” Jake called me midway through the day. I didn’t think much of it. “I’ll just go by myself, then.” It wasn’t a lot of stuff anyway, just a single suitcase. It sounded chaotic on Jake’s end, and the call disconnected before I could hear his response. Previously, Jake never let me go to that building alone. Mostly because there were too many construction workers around, and he felt it was unsafe. But it was broad daylight, and I was just grabbing a bag. What could go wrong? I didn’t expect that the moment I walked into the room, three or four workers would follow me inside. “You living here all by yourself, miss?” My heart dropped. “Who are you? Get out.” “We work here. Why should we get out?” The one leading them laughed. “We’ve been watching you and that guy play house in here. You guys get pretty wild. Why don’t you play with us for a bit?” The room was completely empty. I couldn’t even find anything to use as a weapon. Gritting my teeth, I turned and made a mad dash for the door. The man reacted fast, grabbing me by the hair and throwing me to the ground. “Little girl’s got a great body. I’ve been craving you for a while. Today’s my lucky day.” Saying that, he lunged down on top of me. I fought back frantically, screaming at the top of my lungs. Just as his hands were about to tear at my clothes, the door was suddenly kicked open. The man pinning me down was punched and sent flying to the floor. The other two workers immediately moved to jump in. “I’m the developer of this property. Are you absolutely sure you want to lay a hand on me?” The three men exchanged nervous glances, seeming to weigh the truth of his words. A moment later, they cursed and ran off. Carter Sterling took off his suit jacket and draped it over my shoulders, turning to his assistant. “Find those men. Handle them however you see fit.” The assistant nodded and walked away. Only then did Carter look down at me. “Remember me?” My knuckles turned white as I clutched the jacket. “No, I don’t.” I shoved the jacket back into his chest and grabbed my suitcase. “Thank you for your help today.” As I walked past him, Carter suddenly grabbed my wrist. “You seem terrified of me.” “We don’t know each other. Why would I be terrified?” “Fair point.” Carter let go of me. “What about you? What are you doing here? If I remember correctly, this complex isn’t finished yet.” “None of your business.” “True, but I developed this land.” Carter stared at me intently. “Squatting is illegal. What do you say I sue Jake for trespassing?” “What exactly do you want?” “I want you.” Carter made absolutely no effort to hide his intentions. “Maya, I told you from the very beginning. I want you.” “And I told you, I’m married.” “That doesn’t matter to me.” I pressed my lips into a tight line. He leaned in so we were at eye level. “That man can’t give you the life you deserve. You’re a pearl, and you shouldn’t be gathering dust in his hands. You can either watch your man rot in a prison cell, or you can come live like royalty with me. It’s your choice.” I gripped my suitcase tightly, turned my head, and walked out the door. This time, Carter didn’t try to stop me.

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1 At three in the morning, my husband texted me. [Where are you?] I was sitting in the observation room of the abortion clinic, utterly exhausted from the pain. I typed back: [I’ll tell you when I get home.] When I finally walked through the door, he was sitting at his computer, editing a vlog from a recent party. “I aborted the baby,” I said. “I’m being transferred overseas the day after tomorrow. Take tomorrow off, and let’s go to the courthouse to finalize the divorce.” He didn’t look up from the screen, just muttering his usual absent-minded “uh-huh.” I knew it. He had turned his hearing aids off again. For six years, I had excitedly shared the little details of my day with him. I had enthusiastically planned our future together. Over the years, I must have sung at least three hundred love songs to him. In the end, not a single note ever made it to his ears. I was genuinely so tired. I walked up behind him and flicked the switch on his hearing aid. He frowned instantly and snapped before I could speak, “What are you doing?” “The battery on my hearing aids is running low, and I left my charger at the office.” “I’m taking tomorrow off to go with Chloe to hear her sing at karaoke. Don’t waste my battery.” I nodded slowly and reached over, turning his hearing aid back off. Then let’s part in silence. … Allen suddenly flicked his hearing aid back on. “Whatever. I’ll just swing by the office and grab the charger tomorrow morning.” “What were you trying to say?” I didn’t answer. I walked over to the sofa, sat down, and took out the painkillers the doctor had prescribed. I swallowed them dry with a sip of cold water. Only then did Allen look away from his monitor and glance over at me. “Why are you taking pills?” “Vitamins,” I replied. He nodded, accepting the lie immediately. “Did the doctor say anything else? I would’ve gone with you today if I wasn’t so busy.” It was always the same excuse. Allen’s promises meant absolutely nothing to me anymore. Like during his last vacation. He promised to take me to the beach. I had bought the plane tickets and planned the entire itinerary. But at the last minute, Chloe claimed some creep was following her home from work. Allen threw a stack of cash at me to shut me up, and spent his entire month off acting as Chloe’s personal bodyguard, driving her to and from work every single day. I could let go of something trivial like a canceled vacation. But he also consistently bailed on my birthdays and our anniversaries. Every single time I asked, it was always because Chloe had some “emergency.” He never took the things I said seriously. He barely even listened. But whatever bizarre, dramatic excuse Chloe came up with, he treated it like an absolute royal decree. I never understood it. We were all adults; how could he lack such basic judgment? It wasn’t until much later that I finally realized—it had nothing to do with whether he believed her or not. It was entirely about who he loved. When a man loves a woman, even if she points at the sky and calls it the ground, even if she calls red green, he will find a way to justify her delusions as absolute truth. “Whatever. Let’s just go to sleep,” I said softly. “At your last physical, the doctor said your thyroid nodules were getting bigger. You need to stop staying up so late…” Before I could even finish my sentence, Allen reached up and switched his hearing aid off. He waved me away dismissively, signaling me to leave him alone. I suddenly let out a dry, bitter laugh. I was laughing at my own pathetic reflexes. Even after all these years, my first instinct was still to care about him. I walked back to the master bedroom and locked the door behind me. By the time I finished filling out my overseas transfer paperwork, it was already 6:00 AM. The sky was turning gray. The sound of his keyboard clacking in the living room had been replaced by the sound of a voice call. Even through the phone speaker and a solid wooden door, I could clearly hear Chloe’s obnoxiously loud voice. And Allen was patiently listening as she planned out their entire itinerary for the day. I buried my head under the heavy duvet and fell into a deep, exhausted sleep. 2 I had originally gone to the hospital yesterday for a prenatal checkup. When I woke up and saw the dark, torrential clouds outside the window, I turned to Allen, who was sitting on the edge of the bed scrolling on his phone. “Looks like a massive storm is coming. Can you drive me to the hospital?” I waited. Silence. I assumed he had turned off his hearing aids again. But when I looked closer, the tiny green indicator light was on. He was just so completely absorbed in his texts that he completely ignored me. I snatched the phone out of his hands. On the screen was a chat with a contact he saved as [Princess Chloe]. She was begging him to come to her pajama party tonight. Knowing that Allen absolutely despised loud, chaotic environments, I typed a reply for him: [Not going.] Allen panicked, lunging forward to snatch the phone back. He frantically tapped the screen to unsend the message. “I asked you to drive me to the hospital for my prenatal checkup,” I stated clearly. “When?” he asked without looking up. “This afternoon.” He kept typing furiously on his phone, ignoring me again. Just as my anger began to boil over, Allen suddenly laughed out loud. He shoved his phone screen in my face. “Chloe said she invited a bunch of old college friends over to her place for lunch. Let’s go hang out.” “I’ll take you to the hospital after we eat.” But at the lunch table, Chloe coaxed Allen into taking shots. The group kept passing bottles, laughing and drinking heavily. I felt sick watching them. I barely touched my food before standing up and saying I needed to get to the hospital. “Just reschedule the checkup,” Allen slurred slightly. “I’ll go with you in a few days.” He had absolutely no idea that specialist appointments had to be booked weeks in advance. “No,” I said firmly. Allen pulled out his phone to call me an Uber. “Don’t bother,” I rejected him flatly. He just nodded and told me to be careful on the way. Not a single person at that table offered to walk me to the door, let alone to the front gate of the complex. I walked out with an umbrella, but the sideways rain soaked my pants up to the knees. I wandered aimlessly around the massive apartment complex for ages before I finally found the exit. And of course, disaster always strikes in pairs. Traffic was gridlocked because of the storm. By the time I arrived, I had missed my slot and was pushed to the very last appointment of the day. Right next to the maternity clinic, the abortion waiting room was eerily empty. I ended up sitting there instead, staring blankly up at the glowing sign reading [Pregnancy Termination Clinic], lost in my own thoughts. Before I knew it, the sun had set. Usually, if I was out this late, Allen would have called to check on me. Today, there was dead silence. I thought maybe my phone was acting up. But when I unlocked it, I saw that Allen had just posted a new story on Instagram. He was at Chloe’s pajama party. I zoomed in on the photo. His platinum wedding band was missing from his left hand. I called his number. Chloe answered. She sounded incredibly annoyed, telling me I was being annoying and ruining their vibe by constantly checking up on him. I only asked one question: “Where is Allen’s wedding ring?” “Oh, he let me try it on earlier,” she paused casually. “It probably fell in between the couch cushions. I don’t know, we’ll look for it after the party.” The line went dead. Down the hall, the nurse finally called my name. “Evelyn? Is Evelyn here?” “Patient Evelyn, please come to exam room 3.” I took two steps forward, then stopped dead in my tracks. I turned around and walked up to the reception desk of the abortion clinic. “Do I need an appointment for a termination?” “No, walk-ins are accepted today.” “Okay. Please schedule me.” 3 A burst of giggling startled me awake. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand. It was only 7:30 AM. My head was pounding aggressively from lack of sleep. I blindly reached into the nightstand drawer for my migraine pills. Empty. I had reminded Allen at least five times to pick up a refill, and he still completely forgot. It took me several minutes to gather the strength to sit up and open the bedroom door. Allen was in the kitchen cooking breakfast. Chloe was standing right beside him, acting as his sous-chef. “Go pour your sister-in-law a glass of warm water,” he told her affectionately. Chloe confidently opened the overhead cabinet. From a dozen different mugs, she flawlessly selected mine. She filled it and brought it over to me. “How did you know which mug is mine?” I asked. She turned around, heading back to the cabinets, digging through them as she answered, “Because I come over all the time.” “Whenever you go on business trips, I come over to hang out with Allen.” Chloe then pulled down Allen’s favorite mug. She stood on her tiptoes, looking confused. “Allen, where did you put my mug?” Allen pointed a spatula toward the UV sanitizer on the counter. “In there.” “I told you to stop tossing it in the sink when you’re done. You have to wash it and let it dry before putting it back in the cabinet.” “Otherwise, I have to run the sanitizer cycle every single time you leave it out.” Chloe grabbed her little cartoon mug, waltzed over to Allen, and affectionately rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. “I’m too lazy for that.” “I’ll just leave all the washing to you!” Allen playfully raised the spatula as if to bop her on the head. “You’re going to die of laziness one day!” They were so incredibly comfortable around each other. Like a real family. I stood there gripping my glass of water, feeling the warmth slowly seep out through the glass until it was ice cold against my palms. I had never seen this side of Allen before. When it was just us, he barely spoke. At dinner, I usually scrolled on my phone while he read articles on his tablet. Then we would wash up and go to our separate jobs. “Do you want a fried egg or hard-boiled?” Allen called out to me, holding a small frying pan. Chloe immediately plopped down in the chair next to me and excitedly raised her hand. “Chef Allen! I want both!” “Eggs are my absolute favorite!” Allen smiled warmly and slid the breakfast into her designated bowl. Then he finally looked back at me—the woman who had spoken exactly one sentence all morning. “What about you?” I pressed my lips together, my fingers lightly tracing the faint, red splotches still lingering on my forearm. It had barely been two weeks since my last severe allergic reaction. “I am deathly allergic to egg protein.” “Did you seriously forget?” 4 Allen completely froze. A flash of intense guilt crossed his face. He quickly scraped the remaining eggs in the pan into his own bowl. “I’ll make you something else right now…” “Don’t waste your time,” I cut him off smoothly. “Weren’t you in a huge rush to get to the office and grab your charger?” “You two take your time eating. Have fun today.” After I said that, Allen didn’t dare sit down. He stood there awkwardly holding the frying pan, unsure if he should put it down or retreat back into the kitchen. He kept covertly watching my face for a reaction. I flashed him an empty smile. “Is something wrong?” “No. Nothing.” Allen picked at his food, entirely distracted. Because if this had happened a year ago, I would have exploded on him. If he tried to run away from the argument, I would have chased him all the way to his office. One time, he got so frustrated he actually called me a “hysterical bitch.” My tears instantly spilled over. I grabbed him by the collar and screamed: “How is any of this my fault?” I screamed at him until I was hyperventilating, completely stripping myself of any dignity. When I finally looked up, panting, I saw Allen staring at me with a completely blank, bored expression. He had turned off his hearing aids ages ago. His dead-eyed calmness made me look like an absolute lunatic. But even if he couldn’t hear the desperation in my voice, couldn’t he see the massive tears streaming down my face? Huge drops of water hitting the floor right between us. Why couldn’t a single drop touch his heart? Why didn’t he feel even an ounce of pity for me? After that day, I never picked a fight with Allen again. I slowly figured it out. I slowly accepted the reality of my marriage. And slowly, I stopped loving him so much. After breakfast, Allen went back into the bedroom to change. A few minutes later, he walked out wearing a crisp dress shirt. “Honey, where are my ties?” I gestured vaguely toward the balcony. “There’s a whole pile out there. Pick whichever one you want.” He stood completely still in front of me. I finally looked up from my phone. “What now?” “My tie,” he muttered, looking uncomfortable. “Are you… are you not going to tie it for me?” “You have two fully functioning hands,” I replied flatly. “Right.” Allen was entirely dependent on me picking out his outfits, matching his ties, and even selecting his cufflinks every single morning. I always made sure his attire perfectly suited whatever meetings he had that day. I was naturally a very low-maintenance, casual person. But marrying him had forced me to become hyper-organized and domestic. Color-coordinating his silk ties, hand-steaming every single dress shirt, constantly updating his wardrobe to keep him looking sharp and modern. “I can’t get the knot right,” he whined, fumbling helplessly with the silk fabric. “Just help me.” I sighed, stood up, and took the tie from his hands. After expertly looping the knot, I suddenly yanked the fabric straight up, nearly choking him. “Allen, you really need to stop relying on me so much.” “What are you going to do when I leave you?” 5 Allen didn’t take my words seriously at all. He gently shoved my shoulder and waved at Chloe. “Let’s roll.” “I’m coming with you,” I said. I needed to swing by the pharmacy to buy my migraine medication anyway. Both of them turned to look at me—one with intense annoyance, the other with deep frustration. “Relax. I’m not going to crash your little date.” I opened the shoe cabinet. Sitting right dead center on the top shelf was a brand-new pair of fluffy, cartoon slippers. Winter was still months away, but Allen had already made sure Chloe’s feet would be warm when she came over. I pulled my eyes away from the slippers, grabbed my own sneakers, and put them on. “I’m getting dropped off halfway. Let’s go.” Allen and Chloe walked side-by-side to the garage, laughing and joking the entire way. They were gossiping about the pajama party—who chose a crazy dare, who got blackout drunk and embarrassed themselves. When we reached his SUV, Chloe naturally pulled open the passenger door and climbed right in. She immediately reclined the seat, draped a plush little blanket over her lap, and then dug through the glove compartment. She violently shoved my expensive lipsticks and sunscreen out of the way just to find her cheap little compact mirror. Allen gave me an incredibly awkward look and muttered, “Maybe you could…” “I’ll sit in the back,” I offered before he could finish. He audibly sighed in relief. The SUV cruised smoothly down the avenue. Allen’s left hand rested on the steering wheel, his ring finger still totally bare. “Did you ever find your ring?” I asked out of nowhere. The car noticeably swerved for a split second. Allen didn’t say a word. Chloe was completely engrossed in watching the vlog Allen had edited for her last night. When she reached a funny part, she let out an ear-piercing shriek. “Oh my god!” When high-pitched sounds hit Allen’s hearing aids, the feedback loop would trigger an agonizing, screeching pop right in his ear. It caused him severe physical pain. That was why Allen absolutely hated loud noises. Even when I spoke to him, I had to carefully modulate my volume to make sure I didn’t cross his pain threshold. But Chloe was literally shrieking at the top of her lungs inches from his face, and his expression didn’t even flicker. Only his knuckles gripping the steering wheel turned pure white. “Allen, you are an absolute genius!” “I literally love you so much!!” Allen smiled softly. “I’m glad you like it.” With their loud, obnoxious banter, my question was completely buried and forgotten. Whatever. It really didn’t matter. It was just a piece of metal. I was about to throw mine in the trash anyway. 6 After picking up my prescription, I asked the pharmacist a few quick questions about managing chronic migraines. By the time I walked out the sliding glass doors, it had started to rain again, and the sky looked like it was about to absolutely dump on the city. I stood under the pharmacy awning, hoping to wait it out and catch a cab home. But the downpour started at 10:00 AM and didn’t let up until 10:00 PM. The city’s ancient drainage system completely collapsed under the deluge. The cabs stopped running, and the buses were completely grounded. The floodwaters on the streets kept rising until it reached halfway up my calves. My skirt was completely soaked through. The freezing water chilled my abdomen, and the fresh surgical wounds from my abortion started throbbing violently. I pulled out my phone and texted Allen: [Where are you? Can you please come pick me up?] [The flooding is getting really dangerous.] The messages went completely unanswered. I started calling him. I called him nearly twenty times. He didn’t pick up a single one. Gritting my teeth against the searing cramps, I finally stepped off the curb into the filthy, freezing floodwater and started the long walk home. Suddenly, my foot slipped off the edge of a dislodged manhole cover. Splash— Foul, freezing sewage instantly swallowed me over my head. I thrashed wildly in the dark water, fighting to break the surface. Out of nowhere, a strong hand clamped onto my jacket and brutally hauled me up onto the pavement. If it wasn’t for her, I legitimately would have drowned in an open sewer. The young woman dragged me onto her emergency inflatable raft. “Where do you live? I’ll take you home.” By the time I finally reached my apartment, it was pitch black outside. Fighting through a splitting migraine and agonizing abdominal cramps, I stood under the scalding water in the shower. The second I stepped out, my legs gave way, and I collapsed onto the bathroom rug, completely blacking out. When I finally regained consciousness, the clock read 2:00 AM. The rain had stopped, but two bright, obnoxious voices echoed down the hallway. “I literally carried you on my back for three blocks. You are trying to kill me.” “Get down.” Chloe giggled flirtatiously. “No! I don’t wanna!” “I want you to carry me. I want you to carry me forever!” The front door clicked open, and the hallway lights flipped on. Allen kicked off his ruined leather shoes. His slacks were rolled up past his knees, but they were still completely soaked in muddy water. Chloe, on the other hand, was perfectly dry and spotless. They moved into the bathroom with sickening intimacy, sharing the same hand towel to wipe their faces. Neither of them even glanced toward the dark living room where I was sitting. “It’s getting chilly in here. Are you cold?” Allen anxiously pulled her toward the light to inspect her clothes. “Wait here, I’ll go find you something warm to wear.” He walked straight into the master bedroom and came out carrying an armful of my expensive silk nightgowns. “These belong to your sister-in-law. Pick whichever one you like.” I absolutely despised people touching my personal belongings. Allen knew this better than anyone on earth. Chloe immediately snatched up the ruby-red silk slip. “I want this one!” That dress was my anniversary gift from Allen. I hadn’t even brought myself to wear it yet, and he just casually handed it over to another woman to sleep in. “Tonight was absolutely legendary!” Chloe was bouncing around the living room like a hyperactive child. Watching her, I couldn’t help but see a mirror image of the girl I used to be. Except the response she got was entirely different. Allen looked at her with pure, unfiltered adoration, hanging onto her every single word as if missing a syllable would be a tragedy. “Can you two please shut the hell up?” I finally spoke, shattering their little bubble. They both completely froze. After a suffocating silence, Allen quickly launched into an excuse. He claimed Chloe’s apartment building was in a low-elevation zone and prone to flooding, so he brought her here to keep her safe. I didn’t say a single word back. I just stood up and walked straight into the guest bedroom, locking the door behind me. That night, sleep was completely impossible. Through the thin walls, I could hear them whispering and laughing together in the living room. All night long. The next morning, Allen and Chloe ate breakfast together and walked to the front door together. “Honey, I’m going to drop Chloe off at her place first.” “I’ll swing back around and take you to work.” “Just wait for me.” I was absolutely never going to wait for Allen again. I packed a single suitcase. I pulled out the divorce papers I had printed months ago but never had the courage to sign, and finally scrawled my name across the bottom line. I left the documents sitting directly on top of the dining table, right next to the hospital discharge papers from my abortion. He would see them the second he walked back through the door. I took a cab straight to the international terminal, breezed through security, and boarded my flight. The overhead intercom politely requested all passengers switch their devices to airplane mode or power them off completely. I pulled my phone out of my purse and pressed the power button. But right before the screen went black, an absolute avalanche of notifications exploded onto the screen.

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My wife’s “one that got away” sent me an explosive video. In the frame, they were wrapped in a passionate embrace, their temples pressed together, whispering intimately. With tears in their eyes, they confessed how desperately they had missed each other. At the end of the video, her first love arrogantly showed off to me. “Ethan, you really are useless. After all these years, you still couldn’t make Chloe fall in love with you.” Later, I chose to divorce her, stepping aside so they could be together. But Chloe just laughed out of pure anger, a sharp hint of mockery resting in the corners of her eyes. “Ethan, what makes you think you have the right to bring up divorce?” “You’re nothing but a pathetic loser whose own parents didn’t even want him.” I stared at her in absolute disbelief. It turns out that when someone no longer wants to love you, they will ruthlessly plunge the knife into your deepest wounds without a second thought. 1 In the dead of night, the jarring ring of my phone jolted me awake. Rubbing my throbbing temples, I forced myself to sit up and answer the call. “Ethan, your wife is here keeping me company.” The voice on the other end was unfamiliar yet unmistakable—Carter Pierce. It instantly shattered whatever exhaustion I had left. Without thinking, I blurted out: “What are you talking about?” As I spoke, my hand reached out to feel the space beside me in bed. It was completely empty! Chloe Sterling really wasn’t here! Carter’s voice floated through the speaker again. “Chloe came to my welcome-home party. Why didn’t you come?” “Don’t tell me she sneaked out without telling you.” His words made the hand gripping my phone tremble. A fine, needle-like pain began to spread across my chest. Carter was right. Chloe hadn’t told me a thing. Just a few hours ago, she had been curled up in my arms, acting sweet and affectionate. But the moment I fell asleep, she turned around and ran straight to the childhood sweetheart she had been pining for. Carter let out a light cough, his voice laced with amusement: “How about I send you the address? You can come down and see for yourself if Chloe is with me.” After hanging up, Carter texted me the location. Right below it was a video clip. In the video, Chloe and Carter were holding each other tight, faces pressed close, pouring out how much they had missed one another. With the volume turned all the way up, I could clearly hear Chloe’s soft, desperate murmur: “Carter, I missed you so much.” Another voice message from Carter popped up. “Sorry, Ethan. Chloe said she just couldn’t handle how much she missed me.” “But man, you really are useless. After all these years, you still couldn’t make Chloe fall in love with you.” My heart violently shuddered. I could perfectly picture his arrogant, triumphant smile. So certain. So incredibly confident. I slowly closed my eyes, suppressing my breathing, my eyes burning with unshed tears. Carter was right. I was useless. After all these years, I still couldn’t find a way into Chloe’s heart. 2 I followed the address Carter gave me to an upscale lounge in the city. The lights were blinding, the atmosphere dripping with extravagance. In the dead center of the room sat Chloe and Carter, surrounded by people treating them like royalty. Everyone was cheering them on: “Carter is finally back! You have no idea how long Chloe has been waiting for you.” I scanned the room. These were all Chloe’s closest friends—the ones who had always despised me. All for Carter’s sake. They had mocked me, openly and secretly, countless times. Now, facing Carter, they were radiating blatant warmth and approval. Swallowing the bitter taste in my throat, I pulled out my phone and called Chloe. When her screen lit up, she glanced at it and rejected my call without a second of hesitation. Then, she sent me a text: “Something came up at work. Go to sleep without me.” I stared intently at Chloe from a distance. Her face was completely relaxed as she typed that message. There wasn’t a single flicker of guilt or panic. It really was. Almost laughable. 3 “Chloe, I heard you got married.” Carter’s words snapped me out of my thoughts. He leaned his body slightly toward Chloe, his posture undeniably intimate. Chloe bit her lower lip, hesitating for a moment. Carter’s expression immediately darkened. Seeing this, the friends around them quickly jumped in to defend her: “Don’t be mad, Carter. Chloe only ever had you in her heart.” “Yeah, you can’t blame Chloe. It was that charity case who wouldn’t stop pestering her.” Charity case? So this was how Chloe allowed them to talk about me. Carter let out a scoff, his tone dripping with disdain: “Who is this guy? Does he have zero self-respect?” “Did he only marry Chloe for her money?” Chloe seized the opportunity to cut them off, interrupting the conversation: “Alright, enough. Let’s not talk about him. It kills the mood.” Kills the mood? I couldn’t help but laugh at myself. It turns out that throwing your whole heart at someone doesn’t guarantee the clouds will part to reveal the moon. Back in the day, before I even had the chance to confess my feelings to her. She had already gotten together with Carter. Their romance was loud and highly publicized. For a time, they were the golden couple everyone envied. But the good times didn’t last. In our second year after graduation, the Sterling family’s investments collapsed. They were on the brink of bankruptcy. Unwilling to suffer through poverty with her, Carter ruthlessly abandoned her and moved abroad. I was the one who stayed by her side, encouraging her. I even emptied my entire life savings to invest in the Sterling family’s failing projects. I abandoned my dream of becoming a photographer and accompanied her to endless corporate dinners and networking events. To protect her from the sleazy investors, I drank myself into a stupor at every single dinner. It ended with me suffering severe stomach hemorrhaging and passing out. When I woke up, she was keeping vigil by my hospital bed, her eyes swollen like walnuts. “Ethan, what would I do without you?” With the woman I loved crying in my arms. In that moment, my heart melted completely. Over the next few years, I shielded her from every hardship. I sacrificed half my life to drag the Sterling Corporation back on track. But as the company stabilized, Chloe’s attitude toward me grew increasingly cold. She didn’t love me. And because of that. Not a single one of her friends respected me. They went out of their way to humiliate and make things difficult for me. In their eyes. Carter was the only man worthy of Chloe Sterling. 4 Carter smiled and poured himself a glass of liquor. Chloe immediately stopped him. “Your stomach is bad. Don’t drink.” Carter took the opportunity to grab her hand, intertwining their fingers tightly. Seeing this, the crowd around them started hooting and hollering, urging them to get back together. Completely ignoring the fact that Chloe was a married woman. Carter’s eyes reddened right on cue. He looked at Chloe with deep, affectionate longing: “Chloe, I had my reasons for leaving the country back then.” “Now, I’ve risked everything to come back. I just want to ask you one thing: Do you still love me?” The private booth instantly fell dead silent. Everyone held their breath, waiting for her answer. I was waiting, too. But Chloe didn’t answer right away. She just stared at her hand, firmly grasped in Carter’s. A trace of struggle flashed through her eyes. Finally, as the corners of Carter’s eyes grew redder, she slowly opened her mouth: “Yes.” Carter looked as if he hadn’t fully processed it, asking blankly: “What?” Chloe’s eyes filled with a radiant smile as she repeated: “Carter, I still love you.” Even though the lounge’s heating was on full blast, I felt like I had been plunged into a freezer, an agonizing chill piercing me to the bone. Amidst the roaring cheers of the crowd. Carter wept tears of joy and pulled Chloe into a tight embrace. As she hugged him back, she turned her head and spotted me. A flicker of panic flashed through Chloe’s eyes before her face darkened completely. She gently pushed Carter away and walked briskly toward me. “How did you know I was here?” Carter followed closely behind, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and smiling as he chimed in: “Let’s not make a scene.” “Ethan was probably just worried about you. He probably wanted to track your location so he followed you.” Chloe’s eyes widened in fury, her voice raising as she interrogated me: “Ethan, are you stalking me?!” I stood frozen for a few seconds, laughing bitterly in my head. When a person doesn’t love you. Everything you do is wrong. Everything you do has an ulterior motive. And above all, nothing you say will be trusted. 5 When I got back home, I collapsed onto the sofa, completely drained. Because of my appearance, the reunion party had ended on a sour note. Chloe had abandoned me outside the lounge, taking her driver to personally escort Carter home. Her excuse? As a friend, she was worried about Carter since he had just returned to the country. As for her actual husband, she didn’t spare a single thought. I stepped out of the shower to find that Chloe had returned. Her face was thunderous. I looked at her numbly: “What’s wrong?” Chloe kicked off her heels, lifted her chin, and stared at me with pure disgust: “Next time, don’t ever stalk people again. It’s repulsive.” I had a million explanations lined up in my throat, but meeting her impatient, hostile glare… I just squeezed out a dry, hollow sentence: “Chloe, I have never stalked you.” I desperately suppressed my emotions, trying to explain: “Carter called me and sent me a video of you two…” Chloe slammed her water glass violently onto the table, her voice trembling with rage: “Ethan, you’re supposed to be a man!” “I never realized you had so little class. Not only do you lie, but you frame other people to cover it up.” She paused, then added the final blow: “You can’t even begin to compare to Carter.” A sharp, stabbing pain ripped through my chest. In a fraction of a second, the last remaining shred of my sanity vanished. “Can’t compare? Wasn’t he the one who abandoned you like trash?!” “The second he comes crawling back, you wag your tail and run right back to him!” “Chloe Sterling, how do you sleep at night? Are you doing right by yourself? Are you doing right by me?!” That last sentence tore from my throat, raw and on the verge of breaking. Chloe grabbed the heavy glass from the table and hurled it directly at me. She shot to her feet, screaming back: “I put a roof over your head and food on your table! How have I ever done you wrong?!” “My friends called you a gold digger, and they were absolutely right!” Suddenly, I felt an eerie sense of calm. It turns out that when your heart breaks past a certain threshold, your entire body just goes numb. “Let’s get a divorce.” Chloe froze. “What did you say?” She let out a laugh of pure disbelief, her eyes dripping with arrogant mockery. “Stop throwing a tantrum, Ethan.” “You’re nothing but a pathetic loser whose own parents threw away like garbage.” “Except for me, who else in this world would ever want you?”

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