Category: English

  • Blackout with My Brooding Fiancé

    The power went out on the very first night I was alone with my arranged live-in fiancé. In the pitch black, I kicked him. “I want to take a bath.” After he drew the bathwater, I lazily tugged on his sleeve: “…Don’t leave. I’m afraid of the dark.” 1 I woke up and realized I was eighteen again. My future husband-of-convenience was helping me grade my practice SATs. Staring at the page full of red Xs, he frowned deeply. “…You really think you’re going to get into Stanford like this?” Ignoring the Stanford comment, I tilted my head, leaned in close, and asked curiously, “Mason, do you have a crush on me?” Scratch— His pen drew a long, harsh line across the paper. Mason stared at me, a mix of shock and embarrassment tumbling in his eyes. After a long moment, he scoffed, “And what if I do?” Tsk. Nineteen-year-old Mason was still too young to hide his emotions properly. I let out a soft “Oh,” buried my head back in my scratch paper, and pretended nothing had happened. As I absentmindedly counted my wrong answers, Mason’s low, strained voice sounded next to my ear, like he had been holding it in for ages. “Stella.” He gritted his teeth, his eyes fierce. “…Stop messing with me.” Hearing this, I turned to look at him, my expression unusually serious. “Mason—” He gripped his pen tightly. Me: “I’m hungry.” Mason stood up abruptly, shot me an icy glare, and then—marched into the kitchen. I couldn’t hold it in; I laughed out loud. 2 The year my dad brought him home, Mason was only fourteen. He was scrawny, wearing a faded, oversized button-down and dirty sneakers. He stood in our living room, pressing his lips together, trying desperately to hide the awkward anxiety in his eyes. I stood at the top of the stairs. We stared at each other for a few seconds before he was the first to look away. Gloomy, sensitive, fiercely proud yet deeply insecure. That was my first impression of him. When it came to his arrival, I wasn’t exactly welcoming, but I didn’t reject him either. As long as he wasn’t my dad’s illegitimate son, everything was fine. Mason was only a year older than me. He should have already started college, but because of me, he held back and repeated his senior year. After we got married, Mason became a man of few words, always busy with work, but incredible in bed. Aside from the lack of romance, you could say we had the perfect marriage. In the tenth year of our marriage of convenience… I accidentally discovered that he had been secretly in love with me for a very, very long time. The day after I found out, I woke up and found myself back in the summer after my high school graduation. So what now? Looking at Mason carrying a slice of cake over to me—standing tall, his profile sharp and handsome—I decided I didn’t want a different husband. I kicked off my slippers and used my toes to hook around his waist. “I’m so tired.” I lounged back in my chair, opening my mouth. “…Feed it to me.” Mason’s eyes were ice cold. We stared at each other for a long time, and he was the first to concede. Halfway through feeding me the cake, Mason jolted, grabbing my wandering foot. His voice was fierce and cold, laced with a heavy warning. “Stella. You better behave.” Fine. I shrugged and pulled my foot back. Mason took a moment to compose himself, then with a stony face, continued feeding me the cake. I pushed his hand away and tilted my head at him. “You eat some too.” Mason paused. His long, strong fingers gripped the fork as he took a bite of the remaining cake. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and a tiny dab of frosting stuck to the corner of his mouth. Looks delicious. And I wasn’t talking about the cake. Smiling wickedly, I looked at him with feigned curiosity. “Mason, you just used my fork… Does that count as an indirect kiss?” Mason gripped the handle of the fork, his face full of restraint. “Stella.” I didn’t let him finish, continuing on my own. “No, it doesn’t.” I leaned over, licked the frosting right off the corner of his mouth, and nodded in satisfaction. “…That is an indirect kiss.” Mason’s spine went completely rigid. A flash of intense embarrassment crossed his handsome face. His self-control was truly impressive. Even after all that, his eyes just got fiercer, but he didn’t react physically. Oh, wait. Actually, there was a reaction. I decided to rein it in a bit, switching to verbal teasing instead of physical. “You’re so mean, Mason.” “You clearly liked it, didn’t you?” Mason’s jaw clenched tightly. “…Is this how you treat me?” “Stella.” His expression looked pained. “I am not your toy.” Tsk. Nineteen-year-old Mason was so fun to tease. I just couldn’t help myself. “Of course you aren’t a toy.” I dropped the playful smile and looked at him seriously. “You’re… my live-in fiancé, obviously.” Perfect. That successfully pissed him off enough to make him storm out. Watching his slightly stiff, awkward gait as he walked away, I finally felt a little better. Honestly, I was still mad. He loved me, yet he never told me. Watching his retreating back, I let out a cold scoff. Fine. Keep holding it in, then. 3 Actually, Mason didn’t need to worry. My SAT scores weren’t as low as he expected; I could absolutely get into Stanford. Having lived through this once, I didn’t change my major either. In my past life, he stubbornly insisted on going to Stanford with me to prove his worth to my parents. But now, I suddenly understood. Maybe he just purely wanted to keep me by his side? On the third day after submitting our college applications, Mason planned to return to his hometown. After all, he had been away for five years and it was time for a visit. Our memories overlapped. But what was different this time was that he had a plus-one. We crossed the country, and I shamelessly tagged along with him to a place called Oakhaven. It was an old, rustic little town. It didn’t have the neon lights or the glitz and glamour of the city. It just had a few narrow roads and dim streetlights. Mason grabbed his luggage and stopped in front of an old house. The house was old but spacious. I knew it belonged to his late grandmother. Because his closest relatives had passed away too early, he was kicked around like a soccer ball when he was little, begging for scraps at other people’s houses. That was why he looked so ragged the first time we met. Mason bustled around, cleaning the old house until it was spotless. I lay on a wicker chair, rocking back and forth, staring at the wooden carvings on the ceiling beams. I, Stella Sterling, had never done a day of hard labor in my life. But Mason was the epitome of a kid who had to grow up too fast. The old house hadn’t been lived in for a long time, which I expected. What I didn’t expect was that the power would go out on the very first night we were alone together. In the pitch black, I couldn’t help but kick him. “I want to take a bath.” Mason knew my habits. I bathed every single day, and a power outage wasn’t going to stop me. He found some candles, lit them, and silently went to heat up water for me. After he prepared the bathwater, he turned to leave. I lazily tugged on his sleeve: “…Don’t leave. I’m afraid of the dark.” Mason’s back, illuminated by the candle he was holding, went stiff. It was incredibly quiet, and faintly, I could hear the sound of him grinding his teeth. “…Stella, do you have any idea what you’re saying?” “I do.” I slipped off my pleated skirt and casually tossed it into the wooden hamper nearby. “…I said I’m afraid of the dark.” The sound of fabric brushing against skin echoed softly. Mason’s breathing noticeably quickened. When he spoke again, his voice carried a heavy warning. “Stella!” Tsk. I hear you, I hear you. Both ears work fine. Yelling so fiercely, yet standing there with his back to me, not daring to move an inch. I gathered my hair up, paying him no mind. I scooped up some water and poured it over my shoulders. Setting everything else aside, Mason was incredibly good at getting the bathwater to the perfect temperature. But hearing the splashing water, he was probably going crazy. Hehe. He probably never expected me to actually go through with it. 4 I admit, I had been bullying Mason quite frequently these past few days. He seemed to be angry every single day. But I was used to it. After dealing with him for so many years, Mason had never smiled at me. Whether it was before or after we got married, he always called me by my full name, “Stella Sterling.” It was genuinely irritating. In the backyard, Mason was sitting by the oak tree, washing clothes by hand. The muscles in his arms were defined but not overly bulky. The soapy suds sticking to his skin inexplicably gave off a domestic, husband-material vibe. He looked healthy, his skin slightly tanned, radiating youthful energy, yet his eyes remained fierce and brooding. The Mason from ten years in the future? I definitely couldn’t outplay him. But the Mason right in front of me was only nineteen. Fresh, green, and radiating awkward youth. He was as stubborn as a wild mustang, and aside from bucking, he didn’t know what else to do. If I were actually the eighteen-year-old Stella, I really wouldn’t have known how to handle him. But I wasn’t. Taking my time, I strolled toward the oak tree. I stopped right behind him and then shamelessly hopped onto his back. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I couldn’t help but complain in his ear: “…Mason, I really, really hate it when you call me by my full name.” I looked distressed. “Why don’t you call me ‘Babe’? Or ‘Sweetheart’? That works too.” Mason’s back was as rigid as a steel board. His right hand tightly gripped a wad of fabric, the veins bulging on the back of his hand. Taking a deep breath, he stood up. “Stella!” Here we go again. I ignored it, dangling off his back and swaying. Nuzzling his cheek, I kept teasing him: “…Mason, call me ‘Honey,’ please? I’ll buy you candy.” Mason didn’t dare touch my legs; he only dared to issue verbal warnings. “Stella, don’t push it!” Stella, stop messing with me. Stella, you better behave. Stella, don’t push it. Those were the only three phrases he ever used with me, recycled over and over again. But I always turned a deaf ear. Hugging his neck, I was relentless. “Mason, you’re not allowed to be so mean to me! I don’t like it!” Mason didn’t respond. See? He was mad again. Mason didn’t even reach back to support me; he just let me dangle there as he marched straight into the house. He pried my hands off with one hand and tossed me onto the bed. Zero chivalry. Dissatisfied, I rolled around on the bed twice. I hooked my finger through the strap of a flimsy piece of fabric on the edge of the bed and tossed it at his chest, my tone entirely entitled. “…Wash this too.” Mason instinctively caught it. Looking at the fabric in his hands, his face turned a chaotic mix of red and pale green. I looked the picture of innocence. “I can’t touch cold water, you know that.” He held it in, and held it in again. Finally, he turned around and obediently walked back out to the yard. “Mason.” I picked up a book from the nightstand and called out to him. Flipping to the page I had dog-eared last night, I didn’t forget to remind him: “…That thing in your left hand. Don’t wash it with my clothes.” I crinkled my nose, looking incredibly serious. “Ugh… the smell of your ‘alone time’ is way too strong. I hate it.” “Stella!” Mason spun around in shock, his neck flushing bright red as he looked at me in disbelief. “Do you have absolutely no shame?!” Oh? Is he embarrassed and angry now? I tilted my head, looking at the bundle of light blue fabric in his left hand. “Actually— “I prefer you in tight briefs.” Even though that style would probably be a bit uncomfortable for him. But what did that have to do with me… right? 5 Mason had been ignoring me for three days. Even though he still acted like a devoted caretaker, willingly bringing me food and water, the moment I opened my mouth, he would turn and walk away. Standing in the yard, he looked as rigid as a small pine tree. After having so many deep, intimate conversations with him in the future, I obviously knew that briefs were definitely uncomfortable for him. Thinking about it, I licked my lips. I was kind of craving him. So I called out, “Mason.” Mason turned and walked away. This time, he walked straight out the front gate. I pouted, slowly walked to the door, and took a look outside. He was nowhere to be seen. I didn’t turn back. Instead, I headed to the yard next door. The little girl with pigtails was doing her homework on a stool. When she looked up and saw me, her eyes instantly lit up. “Stella!” Mason definitely wouldn’t have guessed that if he wouldn’t play with me, I could find someone else. In the few short days he refused to acknowledge me, I had built a deep friendship with the little girl next door. Daisy was adorable, and she loved coming over to play with me. Of course. Only when Mason wasn’t around. It was scorching hot lately, but Oakhaven was near the water and densely wooded, making it much cooler than the city. Daisy was almost done with her homework. She had made plans with her friends to go catching frogs and picking wild blackberries by the creek that afternoon. Seeing that I was bored, she loyally invited me along. Catching frogs? Sounded fun. I accepted the invitation and happily tagged along. I spent the entire afternoon with the kids. We flipped over every rock in the shallows, caught a whole bucket of tadpoles, and picked a massive basket of blackberries, having the time of our lives. When I got home at dusk, I was met with Mason’s wrath. He stood in the doorway, his face ashen, looking like he wanted to eat me alive. “Stella!” Holding two lotus flowers I had picked, I brushed past him, letting my skirt intentionally graze his calf. I carefully placed the flowers in a water basin, my tone careless. “…What?” Mason’s expression instantly darkened even more, but his tone leveled out. “Why did you run off without saying anything? Do you know I’ve been looking for you all afternoon?” Why didn’t I say anything? Because you ran away! If you run, I run. I gave a dismissive “Oh” and kept arranging my flowers. Mason suddenly exploded. Before I could even put the last flower in the water, he grabbed my wrist and dragged me into the house. Stumbling into the bedroom, I was thrown onto the bed. Looking at Mason’s face, my eye twitched, and I didn’t hesitate to scramble toward the corner of the bed. But Mason was faster. He reached out, grabbed my ankle, and pulled me back. Pinning both my wrists with one hand and pressing his knee against my legs, his voice was thick with fury. “…Stella, do you know how high and deep the mountains are out here? Do you know what happens if you get taken by human traffickers?! Do you want to be chained up in a basement and turned into an incubator?!” I squirmed, realizing I was completely pinned and couldn’t break free. I was going to reasonably explain, “I’m an adult, I have my own judgment,” but what actually came out of my mouth was, “None of your business.” Mason let out an exasperated laugh, nodding continuously. “…Stella, you’re really something.” My vision was forcefully spun around. Mason aggressively flipped me onto my stomach before I could even react. Smack— A sharp sting radiated from my backside straight to my brain. One after another. This was the first time in my life I had ever been spanked. I never expected the person to do it would be Mason. He was too strong; I couldn’t break free. I clamped my mouth shut, stubbornly refusing to beg for mercy. His hand was fast and ruthless, refusing to stop. Until finally, it hurt too much to bear, and I cried out his name: “Mason… it really hurts.” My voice was already breaking with tears. I didn’t actually want to cry. But it hurt so much, I couldn’t help it. Mason’s hand stopped. His grip loosened, and I could finally move again. My backside was burning. With my eyes closed, I slowly reached back, my trembling fingers brushing against it. A wave of intense pain shot straight to my brain. Tears dripped steadily onto the bedsheets. Mason didn’t say a word. Furious and terrified, I pulled the blanket over myself, refusing to look at him. “…Get out. I don’t want to see you right now!” My voice was muffled and completely lacked any threat. But Mason actually left. He walked out without saying a single word. An overwhelming wave of grievance washed over me, and I cried even harder. Once I started sobbing out loud, I finally felt a little better. I hadn’t eaten dinner tonight. But I was so exhausted that, crying as I was, I didn’t even realize when I fell asleep. 6 When I woke up the next day, it was broad daylight. I sniffed myself—a faint smell of sweat mixed with a heavy scent of medicinal ointment. I smelled terrible. Frowning in disgust, I grabbed my clothes and headed to the rustic bathroom. Mason wasn’t there, but the bathwater was already prepared. I didn’t refuse. After all, in his eyes, I, Stella Sterling, would never mistreat myself for anyone’s sake. And I couldn’t deny it; it was the truth. The pain was still stubbornly there. I managed to finish my bath with a grimace, finally feeling much better. As I stepped out drying my hair, breakfast was already laid out on the table, but Mason was still nowhere to be seen. I let out a cold laugh. Tsk. Trying to play the silent, devoted house-elf? If Mason thought he could get my forgiveness this easily, he was dead wrong. My parents were business people; they were master calculators. I was their flesh and blood. Did he think I’d take a loss? While I was showering, I had thought it through. Yes, I had taken the joke too far yesterday, but Mason hitting me was crossing a line, and he had to pay for it. Thinking about it, a surge of resentment welled up inside me. How dare Mason spank me—and in such a humiliating spot, too! Continuing to dry my hair, pretending I hadn’t seen the food, I marched angrily into my room and slammed the door shut. Here was my strategy: refusing to eat his food was my declaration of war. For the next two days, I used the bathwater he prepared and wore the clothes he washed, but I absolutely refused to eat the food he cooked, and I refused to speak to him. This wasn’t just throwing a tantrum. This was psychological warfare. Dealing with someone like Mason required extreme measures. Push him into a corner so he had nowhere to run, then give him the cold shoulder, giving him a taste of his own medicine. It was a battle of wills. My confidence stemmed from the fact that Mason cared about me. Sure, my stomach would suffer a bit, but obviously, the results would be highly effective. Mason was the first to break. On the evening of the second day of my hunger strike, he finally appeared before me. “Stella.” He stood there holding a bowl of porridge, suppressing his anger. “…Are you trying to starve yourself to death?” I turned my back to him, lying on my side on the bed, treating his words like wind passing my ears. The room fell silent, leaving only the sound of our breathing—one steady, one erratic. After a long time, Mason’s voice broke the silence again. “Stella.” His voice was very soft, and I heard him say, “…You win, Stella.” I rolled over and lay flat on my back. I gave him a response, but not much of one. Seeing my attitude, Mason simply gave up struggling. He asked in defeat, “Stella, what exactly do you want?” I hid my secret delight, my expression flat. “…Will you give me whatever I want?” After a moment of silence, Mason gave a difficult nod. “Yes. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.” I rolled over again, leaning over the edge of the bed, my tone fierce: “Apologize to me!” Mason: “…I’m sorry.” I was somewhat satisfied. My shoulders instantly slumped, my voice weak. “Hurry up and feed me. I don’t even have the strength to hold the bowl.” This was completely different from the scenario I had envisioned. I originally wanted to string him along a bit more and negotiate terms, but I was just too hungry to maintain the aloof facade. No choice. Food is life. Starving for two whole days was already my absolute limit. Mason pressed his lips together tightly, holding back his temper as he fed me. “…Didn’t you even know how to sneak into the kitchen for a snack?!” “I would never!” I swallowed a large mouthful of porridge, my tone aggrieved yet defiant. “Even if I starved to death, I, Stella Sterling, would never bow down for a bowl of rice!” Thinking about the brutal beating I had endured, seeing Mason made me angry all over again. “…I’m still mad, Mason. How could you be so mean to me!” “You were the one not listening first.” Mason wiped my mouth for me. “And your attitude wasn’t right either.” “Then you still shouldn’t have spanked me!” I emphasized repeatedly, my tone firm. “I am an adult. No one is allowed to treat me like that, and neither are you!” Thinking for a moment, I added, “…Of course, if it’s a little kink while we’re sleeping together, that’s fine, but to be fair, I get to hit you back.” “Stella!” Mason was embarrassed and furious once again. “Shut up!” So boring. I was just making a joke. Mason has absolutely zero sense of humor. Full and satisfied, Mason went to wash the dishes. His movements were fast. By the time I finished showering and came out, he had already cleaned up. At this point, I had regained my usual calm rationality. Lying on my stomach on the bed, I called out without hesitation: “Mason!” He walked over, his tone unhappy: “What?” “Oh, nothing.” I casually lifted the hem of my nightgown, bossing him around with complete entitlement. “Hurry up and apply my ointment.” Mason snapped his eyes shut with lightning speed, veins popping on his forehead. “Stel-la, Ster-ling!” He gritted out my name through clenched teeth, his voice full of anger and warning. Tsk, playing the prude. He didn’t even know how many times he had touched me over the last two days, yet here he was acting all innocent. But I decided not to push him any further. After all, he was only nineteen. Getting mad all the time is bad for your health. “Okay, okay, no ointment then.” Adjusting my dress, I sat up straight, looking as proper as could be. “…Could my man please dry my hair for me?” Mason finally lowered his hands. Perhaps because the title was a bit embarrassing, he looked a little flushed with frustration. “Stella.” He grabbed the hairdryer and walked over to me, plugging it in while muttering, “You need to dial it back!” I just said “Oh” and wrapped my arms around his waist. “Stella!”

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  • PENTHOUSE PRINCESS VS. THE TROLL NEXT DOOR

    He was my late best friend’s younger brother. I’m no saint, and I certainly didn’t have some grand maternal instinct. I took him in on a whim because he looked like a kicked puppy at the funeral, and I had the space to feed him. I never expected that the skinny kid I dragged home would grow up to be such a wolf. A wolf who currently has me marked as his target. 01 I posted on my Instagram Story: “Thanks for asking. Loved him once.” He replied to my story the very next second: “? That’s not what you were saying in bed last night.” 02 Let’s back up. I was drunk. Friends were egging Caleb on at the bar, telling him to pick his “type” out of the crowd. He lazily peeled his eyes open, pointed a finger dead at me, and said, “Her.” That day marked exactly one hundred days since we broke up. 03 In a blurry, drunken haze, Caleb and I ended up sleeping together. When I woke up the next morning, I let out a scream that could wake the dead. “What are you yelling for?” he mumbled, rolling over lazily. “It’s not like we haven’t done this before.” I kicked out with my leg and shoved him right off the bed. 04 He got pissed. Grabbing my ankle, he yanked me down with him. I rolled over and crashed right into Caleb’s chest. It was rock hard. My face flushed hot. Above me, I heard him ask, “Haven’t felt enough yet?” I bit the bullet and shot back, “More like you haven’t felt enough.” I underestimated Caleb’s shamelessness. He grabbed my hand, pulled me back down, and stared at me lazily like a dozing lion. “Wanna feel some more?” Feel your ass! Unable to win against him, I scrambled up, wanting to bolt out the door, but he caught my wrist. He gave me a look. “Stay here. Don’t run around.” He opened the door, and I heard the sounds of his friends teasing him in the hall. “Morning, alpha. Rough night?” “Who’s in there, man? Why won’t you let us see?” “Screw off.” A breeze swept in, followed by the slam of the door. The noise died down. Once it was completely quiet, I sneaked back to my own room. Maya was already awake, standing by the door. She asked, “Chloe, where did you go?” I clutched my stomach. “The toilet in our suite broke. I had to use the one downstairs.” “Are you… sure about that?” It wasn’t until I reached the bathroom mirror that I realized what a mess I was. My clothes were wrinkled, my hair was a bird’s nest, and my lipstick was smeared all over my face. I looked exactly like someone who had just done something very, very bad. Maya pulled up a chair, sat me down, and said, “Confess and you get leniency; resist and face the consequences. Did you stay out all night fooling around with that dog of an ex?” Just kill me now. 05 On the campus shuttle, I bumped into Caleb again. You could tell everyone was buzzing. Even Maya whispered, “Doesn’t he drive a Beemer? Why is he squeezing onto the campus shuttle with us?” I didn’t know. I found a seat as far away from him as possible and sat down. I pulled out my sleep mask, just wanting to nap, when he walked over, tapped my shoulder, and handed me a box of motion sickness pills. I was stunned. At that exact moment, Brandon, a guy I knew from my marketing class, also walked over and handed me a box of motion sickness pills. I genuinely didn’t know which one to take. In that moment, I deeply understood the awkwardness of a female protagonist in a rom-com. Caleb let out an incredibly low, icy scoff. He grabbed my hand, shoved his pills into my palm, and I shot Brandon an apologetic look. Caleb blocked my line of sight to Brandon, pinched my cheek, and said, “You broke up with me to find a guy like this?” “Chloe, you need to get your eyes checked.” Why the personal attack? Wait, did he just out our relationship? After dropping that bomb, Caleb walked away, looking cool as hell, leaving me completely windblown and panicked. Brandon handed me his pills and gave a bitter smile. “I didn’t realize you two were involved. No wonder you kept rejecting me.” Rejecting you? When did you ever even ask me out? He walked away looking depressed, and I became a human target. Suddenly, I was entangled with two campus heartthrobs, and there was no explaining my way out of it. Maya snapped out of her shock and asked, “So last night… you slept with Caleb?” I’m cooked. I covered her mouth and offered an awkward smile to the rest of the bus. “Don’t believe the rumors, don’t spread the rumors.” Too late. I saw someone already typing furiously on the college Confession Page. Help. I’m going to get assassinated by his fangirls. 06 Do modern college students really have this much free time? We hadn’t even gotten back to campus yet, and my phone was blowing up with people asking me about it. So this is what being a celebrity feels like. I posted on my Instagram Story: “Thanks for asking. Loved him once.” Caleb replied instantly: “? That’s not what you were saying in bed last night.” Lord, save me. I could jump into the ocean and still not wash myself clean of this. That screenshot of my Story, along with a candid photo from the bus, ended up on the campus Barstool page. Great. The comments were incredibly unified. They were all calling me ugly. Turning my grief into anger, I texted Caleb: “Square up. What exactly do you want?” “Get back together, or keep getting hated on. You pick.” “Lmao, you say that as if I won’t get hated on if we get back together.” “Fair point.” “But at least you’ll have a handsome guy keeping you company while you get hated on. It’s a win for you.” Absolute idiot! I blocked him! 07 The reason I didn’t delete his contact entirely… Was because I couldn’t bear to lose our chat history. Even though there wasn’t much of it. Caleb preferred calling. Back then, I used to hide on my balcony and stay on the phone with him all night. Everyone knew I was dating someone, they just didn’t know it was Caleb. They thought I was in an online relationship, or being scammed by some creep. Caleb wasn’t a creep, but he was a player. We broke up because of how he treated me. Even though he constantly argued that he didn’t do anything, I didn’t believe him. I saw it with my own eyes. That girl texted him: “Baby, hop on CoD?” When I broke up with him, he didn’t even try to make me stay. He just asked, “Are you sure?” “I am absolutely, one hundred percent sure.” He never said another word to me after that. Originally, I thought that if he just coaxed me a little, if he just explained himself, maybe I would forgive him. But I forgot. He was Caleb. The golden boy. Why would he ever lower his pride to coax anyone? 100 days. It took me 100 days to finally crawl out of my misery, and now he was messing with me again. He was the worst. 08 I went to sleep as soon as I got back to the dorm. I dreamed of Caleb again. That toxic ex. He was holding hands with another girl, and she was yelling at me: “Ugly freak!” “You’re the ugly freak!” I wanted to scream back, but I couldn’t open my mouth. The sound of my ringtone woke me up. I was drenched in sweat. It was Caleb calling. “What?” “Come downstairs.” “No.” I was about to hang up when I heard him threaten me: “Then I’ll just yell from right here. I’ll yell until you come down.” Who’s afraid of who? “Yell all you want. As long as you’re not afraid of the RA screaming at you.” I hung up. I strained my ears. I actually heard Caleb yelling my name from the courtyard. No way. He’s actually playing this game? 09 I threw on a jacket and went downstairs. Seeing me, he stopped yelling. It was late, and he had already caused a minor commotion. I grabbed his arm and dragged him into the trees near the quad, accidentally bumping into a couple making out. He chuckled low in his throat, lightly scratching my palm with his thumb. “Dropping hints?” I dragged him right back out. Caleb let me pull him along, his temper surprisingly good, until we reached an empty clearing. He glanced around. “You want to do it here? I mean, it’s not impossible.” “Fuck off.” I let go of his hand and crossed my arms. “Spit it out.” He dropped the smirk, handing me the paper bag he was holding. “Mango Frappuccino.” In the past, whenever I got motion sickness, I always craved a Mango Frappuccino. He would always run out off-campus to buy me one. Pathetic, right? A single Mango Frappuccino could make me this happy. I didn’t take it. I looked at him. “Caleb, what exactly do you want?” “Get back together. That’s your only option.” “Is playing with my feelings fun?” He stopped talking. He just looked at me. It was hard to believe that even now, I could still be moved by how incredibly handsome he was. Hot guys are truly terrifying. He saw right through my fake tough exterior. He smiled. “Afraid to look at me?” “Don’t flatter yourself. If you don’t have anything real to say, I’m going back upstairs.” Caleb grabbed my wrist and shoved the bag toward me, forcing it into my hand just like he did with the pills. I refused. We pushed and shoved. The bag dropped to the ground, ripped open, and the drink spilled everywhere. We both froze. He crouched down, a self-deprecating smile forming on his lips. “Is it really… completely impossible?” 10 For the first time ever, Caleb looked vulnerable in front of me. My heart gave a sharp, painful twinge. “Get up first.” “Promise me first.” “…” “Then you can stay squatting.” He grabbed my wrist, stood up, and hugged me tightly from behind, resting his chin in the crook of my neck. “Chloe, I’m miserable.” My heart was pounding. My throat tightened. I tried to ignore his body heat and struggled. “Stop acting pitiful.” “I really am miserable.” I couldn’t break free. He was too strong. “Then what do you want?” “A kiss will fix it.” “…Fuck off.” He reached into my jacket pocket, pulled out my phone, and said, “Or, take me off your blocked list.” Damn it. He unlocked my phone. He probably didn’t expect it himself. He froze for a split second. In that tiny window, I shoved him off. Yeah, I was pathetic. Even though we broke up, I couldn’t bear to delete his Face ID from my phone. I snatched my phone back. “I’m going inside.” Caleb chased after me, not saying a word, following me the whole way. After I got upstairs, I ran to the balcony. I saw him still standing down there, staring blankly at his phone.

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  • The Ex-Boyfriend’s Public Confession

    After we broke up, the campus golden boy made our relationship public. I posted on my Instagram Story: “Thanks for asking. Loved him once.” He replied to my story the very next second: “? That’s not what you were saying in bed last night.” 01 I was drunk. Friends were egging Carter on, telling him to pick the type of girl he liked from the crowd. He lazily peeled his eyes open, pointed straight at me, and said, “Her.” That day marked exactly one hundred days since we broke up. 02 In a blurry, drunken haze, Carter and I ended up sleeping together. When I woke up the next morning, I let out a scream. “What are you yelling for?” he mumbled, rolling over lazily. “It’s not like we haven’t slept together before.” I kicked out my leg and shoved him right off the bed. 03 He got annoyed. Grabbing my ankle, he yanked me down with him. I rolled over and crashed right into Carter’s chest. It was rock hard. My face flushed hot. Above me, I heard him ask, “Haven’t felt enough yet?” I bit the bullet and shot back, “More like you haven’t felt enough.” I underestimated Carter’s shamelessness. He grabbed my hand, pulled me back down, and stared at me lazily like a dozing lion. “Wanna feel some more?” Feel your ass! Unable to win against him, I scrambled up, wanting to bolt out the door, but he caught my wrist. He gave me a look. “Stay here. Don’t run around.” He opened the door, and I heard the sounds of his frat brothers teasing him in the hall. “Morning, Carter. Rough night?” “Who’s in there, man? Why won’t you let us see?” “Fuck off.” A breeze swept in, followed by the slam of the door. The noise died down. Once it was completely quiet, I sneaked back to my own dorm room. Chloe was already awake, standing by the door. She asked, “Riley, where did you go?” I clutched my stomach. “The toilet in our suite broke. I had to use the one downstairs.” “Are you… sure about that?” It wasn’t until I reached the bathroom mirror that I realized what a mess I was. My clothes were wrinkled, my hair was a bird’s nest, and my lipstick was smeared all over my face. I looked exactly like someone who had just done something very bad. Chloe pulled up a chair, sat me down, and said, “Confess and you get leniency; resist and face the consequences. Did you stay out all night fooling around with that dog of an ex?” Just kill me now. 04 On the campus shuttle, I bumped into Carter again. You could tell everyone was buzzing. Even Chloe whispered, “Doesn’t he drive? Why is he squeezing onto the campus shuttle with us?” I didn’t know. I found a seat as far away from him as possible and sat down. I pulled out my sleep mask, just wanting to nap, when he walked over, tapped my shoulder, and handed me a box of motion sickness pills. I was stunned. At that exact moment, Ethan, a senior I knew from my journalism club, also walked over and handed me a box of motion sickness pills. I genuinely didn’t know which one to take. In that moment, I deeply understood the awkwardness of a female protagonist in a rom-com. Carter let out an incredibly low, icy scoff. He grabbed my hand, shoved his pills into my palm, and I shot Ethan an apologetic look. Carter blocked my line of sight to Ethan, pinched my cheek, and said, “You broke up with me to find a guy like this?” “Riley, you need to get your eyes checked.” Why the personal attack? Wait, did he just out our relationship? After dropping that bomb, Carter walked away, looking cool as hell, leaving me completely windblown and panicked. Ethan handed me his pills and gave a bitter smile. “I didn’t realize you two were involved. No wonder you kept rejecting me.” Rejecting you? When did you ever even ask me out? He walked away looking depressed, and I became a human target. Suddenly, I was entangled with two campus heartthrobs, and there was no explaining my way out of it. Chloe snapped out of her shock and asked, “So last night… you slept with Carter?” I’m cooked. I covered her mouth and offered an awkward smile to the rest of the bus. “Don’t believe the rumors, don’t spread the rumors.” Too late. I saw someone already typing furiously on the college Confession Page. Help. I’m going to get assassinated by his fangirls. 05 Do modern college students really have this much free time? We hadn’t even gotten back to campus yet, and my phone was blowing up with people asking me about it. So this is what being a celebrity feels like. I posted on my Instagram Story: “Thanks for asking. Loved him once.” Carter replied instantly: “? That’s not what you were saying in bed last night.” Lord, save me. I could jump into the ocean and still not wash myself clean of this. That screenshot of my Story, along with a candid photo from the bus, ended up on the campus Barstool page. Great. The comments were incredibly unified. They were all calling me ugly. Turning my grief into anger, I texted Carter: “Square up. What exactly do you want?” “Get back together, or keep getting hated on. You pick.” “Lmao, you say that as if I won’t get hated on if we get back together.” “Fair point.” “But at least you’ll have a handsome guy keeping you company while you get hated on. It’s a win for you.” Absolute idiot! I blocked him! 06 The reason I didn’t delete his contact entirely… Was because I couldn’t bear to lose our chat history. Even though there wasn’t much of it. Carter preferred calling. Back then, I used to hide on my balcony and stay on the phone with him all night. Everyone knew I was dating someone, they just didn’t know it was Carter. They thought I was in an online relationship, or being scammed by some creep. Carter wasn’t a creep, but he was a player. We broke up because of how he treated me. Even though he constantly argued that he didn’t do anything, I didn’t believe him. I saw it with my own eyes. That girl texted him: “Baby, hop on CoD?” When I broke up with him, he didn’t even try to make me stay. He just asked, “Are you sure?” “I am absolutely, one hundred percent sure.” He never said another word to me after that. Originally, I thought that if he just coaxed me a little, if he just explained himself, maybe I would forgive him. But I forgot. He was Carter. The golden boy. Why would he ever lower his pride to coax anyone? 100 days. It took me 100 days to finally crawl out of my misery, and now he was messing with me again. He was the worst. 07 I went to sleep as soon as I got back to the dorm. I dreamed of Carter again. That toxic ex. He was holding hands with another girl, and she was yelling at me: “Ugly freak!” “You’re the ugly freak!” I wanted to scream back, but I couldn’t open my mouth. The sound of my ringtone woke me up. I was drenched in sweat. It was Carter calling. “What?” “Come downstairs.” “No.” I was about to hang up when I heard him threaten me: “Then I’ll just yell from right here. I’ll yell until you come down.” Who’s afraid of who? “Yell all you want. As long as you’re not afraid of the RA screaming at you.” I hung up. I strained my ears. I actually heard Carter yelling my name from the courtyard. No way. He’s actually playing this game? 08 I threw on a jacket and went downstairs. Seeing me, he stopped yelling. It was late, and he had already caused a minor commotion. I grabbed his arm and dragged him into the trees near the quad, accidentally bumping into a couple making out. He chuckled low in his throat, lightly scratching my palm with his thumb. “Dropping hints?” I dragged him right back out. Carter let me pull him along, his temper surprisingly good, until we reached an empty clearing. He glanced around. “You want to do it here? I mean, it’s not impossible.” “Fuck off.” I let go of his hand and crossed my arms. “Spit it out.” He dropped the smirk, handing me the paper bag he was holding. “Mango Frappuccino.” In the past, whenever I got motion sickness, I always craved a Mango Frappuccino. He would always run out off-campus to buy me one. Pathetic, right? A single Mango Frappuccino could make me this happy. I didn’t take it. I looked at him. “Carter, what exactly do you want?” “Get back together. That’s your only option.” “Is playing with my feelings fun?” He stopped talking. He just looked at me. It was hard to believe that even now, I could still be moved by how incredibly handsome he was. Hot guys are truly terrifying. He saw right through my fake tough exterior. He smiled. “Afraid to look at me?” “Don’t flatter yourself. If you don’t have anything real to say, I’m going back upstairs.” Carter grabbed my wrist and shoved the bag toward me, forcing it into my hand just like he did with the pills. I refused. We pushed and shoved. The bag dropped to the ground, ripped open, and the drink spilled everywhere. We both froze. He crouched down, a self-deprecating smile forming on his lips. “Is it really… completely impossible?” 09 For the first time ever, Carter looked vulnerable in front of me. My heart gave a sharp, painful twinge. “Get up first.” “Promise me first.” “…” “Then you can stay squatting.” He grabbed my wrist, stood up, and hugged me tightly from behind, resting his chin in the crook of my neck. “Riley, I’m miserable.” My heart was pounding. My throat tightened. I tried to ignore his body heat and struggled. “Stop acting pitiful.” “I really am miserable.” I couldn’t break free. He was too strong. “Then what do you want?” “A kiss will fix it.” “…Fuck off.” He reached into my jacket pocket, pulled out my phone, and said, “Or, take me off your blocked list.” Damn it. He unlocked my phone. He probably didn’t expect it himself. He froze for a split second. In that tiny window, I shoved him off. Yeah, I was pathetic. Even though we broke up, I couldn’t bear to delete his Face ID from my phone. I snatched my phone back. “I’m going inside.” Carter chased after me, not saying a word, following me the whole way. After I got upstairs, I ran to the balcony. I saw him still standing down there, staring blankly at his phone. 10 “Ry, Ry, wake up! Carter posted on the Confession Page! He said he likes you!” I woke up instantly, thinking I was still dreaming. Chloe tossed her phone onto my bed. “Look for yourself.” [This is Carter. Not hiding anonymously. Confessing to Riley from the Journalism program. I like you. I really like you.] [Will you give me a chance to pursue you?] There were blessings, people eating up the drama, and some passive-aggressive comments saying the campus golden boy had mediocre taste and that I was just ‘average’. He replied directly to that person: “Better than you.” All his frat brothers flooded the comments. “Better than you.” “Better than you.” “Better than you.” … That comment got pushed to the very top. I couldn’t hold back. I replied to it too: “Better than you.” 11 I unblocked Carter again. I had barely typed a few letters before he texted: “Awake?” He sent a screenshot. It showed the chat box with me currently typing. “Were you waiting for me?” “Yeah. Didn’t sleep all night. Just waited for you to come find me.” “Why did you go say all that weird stuff on the page?” “The Confession Page? Isn’t it used for confessing? You blocked me, so this was my only way.” “You couldn’t use iMessage?” I said the wrong thing. I quickly unsent it. “Saw it.” “Next time I’ll use iMessage. But this was good too. Let everyone know you’re mine. I want to see who dares to flirt with you now.” “You’re overthinking it. No one flirts with me.” “They’re blind. Good thing I’m not blind.” I didn’t want to humor him. I asked him, “If you like me, why did you break up with me?” “You’re the one who brought up breaking up.” “I brought it up because…” I stopped halfway. I couldn’t type the rest. What if Carter really did have someone else? What would I do? Could I handle it? It was better to just leave it like this. A clean break, keeping whatever dignity I had left. I quietly deleted the text and sent: “Whatever.” 12 Actually, when Carter and I first got together, I was the one who made the first move. Obviously, right? He was the most popular guy on campus. If I hadn’t made the first move, he never would have noticed me. It was love at first sight for me. I manufactured all sorts of encounters just to get close to him, just to make him notice me. One night, I texted him: “The moon looks beautiful tonight.” After I hit send, I threw my phone across the bed, buried my head under the covers, and didn’t dare to look. Ten minutes passed. No, maybe it was only five. I peeked out, quietly grabbed my phone. He hadn’t replied. My subtle flirting failed. He definitely wasn’t interested in me. I wanted to cry. The disappointment was suffocating. I tossed the phone away again. Ten minutes later, refusing to give up, I checked it again. A notification! He replied! “Come downstairs.” My hands shook. “What?” He sent a photo. He was standing right outside my dorm building. “You came over?” “Yeah. The moon is really beautiful. Come down, I’ll take you to see it.” 13 Back then, just to chase Carter, I registered for the same elective class as him. Now, karma had come for me. When I got to the lecture hall, there weren’t many empty seats left. I found an empty spot in the back row. As soon as I sat down, a backpack was tossed onto the desk, and Carter hooked the chair with his foot and sat down. There were clearly other empty seats. Why did he have to sit next to me? I stood up, wanting to change seats. As soon as I walked over to one, his buddy sat down in it. “Seat’s taken.” I walked to another empty seat. Another one of his friends sat down, placing his backpack on the chair next to him. “Taken too.” I couldn’t hold back. I asked the guy, “Are you even registered for this class?” The guy just put his head on the desk and pretended to be asleep. I turned around. Carter was resting his chin on his hand, watching me. Looking completely smug. “Did you literally pay half your frat to come take up seats for you?” “More than that.” He smiled, the corners of his mouth lifting in a devilish arc. “I even Venmo’d strangers to hold seats.” He pointed a finger, randomly gesturing to a few people, clearly making it up on the spot. “Him, him, him, him, him. I paid all of them.” “What a shame. I guess you have to sit next to me.”

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  • The Mother Who Cried Wolf

    I was being cyberbullied. And the person leading the charge was none other than my own biological mother. Years ago, she secretly gave away our family’s entire fortune, including our house. She forced me to take out student loans and work multiple part-time jobs just to survive. Now that she’s older and broke, she wants me to take care of her. In her dreams! 1 I was scrolling through TikTok one evening when I stumbled upon a video of an elderly mother traveling thousands of miles to find her daughter. The woman in the video was my biological mother, whom I hadn’t seen in years. She wept in front of the camera, her eyes swollen and red. She claimed that a few years ago, after a minor argument, her daughter cut off all contact with her. Now, realizing her mistakes, she wanted to find her daughter and apologize face-to-face. But her daughter had blocked her on every platform and refused to see her. The comment section was overwhelmingly taking her side. TikTok’s algorithm is truly something else. The account I was viewing belonged to my mother herself. On her profile, there were several other videos with a similar theme. Each one expressed her deep remorse, while subtly painting me as a cold, heartless daughter. Of course, not every single commenter was buying it. Occasionally, there were voices of doubt. But those dissenting voices didn’t last long before they were bullied into deleting their comments by her supporters. “This poor woman is already suffering so much, and you have the nerve to doubt her?” “Do we always need a perfect victim?” 2 I opened Twitter and switched to my burner account. Just as I expected. My mentions and comments were all at 99+. My message requests were overflowing with the most vile “greetings” from strangers. Yes, I was being cyberbullied. And the one spearheading it was my own mother. Someone had used the name of the university my mom mentioned in her videos to track down my burner account through the school’s official page. “Holy shit, she actually has the nerve to come looking for you?” My roommate and best friend, Chloe, had also seen my mom’s videos. She stormed into my room, phone in hand, looking furious. I showed her the 99+ notifications on my Twitter. “Not only does she have the nerve, but her plan is working.” The comments under my public tweets were a sea of insults, and my DMs were filled with people demanding an explanation. With just a few videos, my mother had managed to turn her long-lost daughter into public enemy number one. I was actually quite thankful that I inherited her ruthlessness and cold-bloodedness. Otherwise, facing this barrage of hate, I might have lost sleep due to anxiety. Maybe even fallen into depression. Chloe, seemingly realizing something, suddenly said, “Thank god you were prepared…” I offered a small smile. Yes, I was prepared. The digital footprints those self-righteous netizens found were crumbs I had deliberately left behind. Everything on my public Twitter account was preparation for this exact day. Because years ago, I already knew this day would come. 3 My falling out with my mother happened right before I started college. My dad used to run a fairly successful diner. But during my senior year of high school, my dad passed away from an illness, and my mom immediately sold the diner. Considering my dad had just died, I understood her decision. Our family had saved up a good amount of money over the years, and our house was fully paid off. So even without the diner’s income, my mom and I wouldn’t have to worry about money for the rest of our lives. But I never expected that right before I left for college, my mom would suddenly lose her mind. “I sold the house,” my mom announced out of nowhere. “What?” I couldn’t process what she was saying. With housing prices skyrocketing and inventory tight, selling meant it would be incredibly difficult to buy a new place. My mom acted like she didn’t even hear me and continued, “I’ve donated all our savings, including the money from selling the house.” “Lily, for your college tuition, you’ll need to apply for student loans.” She paused, then added, “As for living expenses, you can use your winter and summer breaks, and weekends, to work part-time. I’m sure you can earn enough yourself.” I was completely blindsided by this barrage of news. “Mom, please tell me you’re joking. This isn’t funny,” I said, my voice tight. As far as I knew, between the money from selling the diner and our savings, we had at least a million dollars. Not to mention the house… “I’m not joking,” she said, dead serious. “I know you’ve been watching those wilderness survival videos lately. If you want to experience that, I can help you figure something out, but you can’t just…” Before I could finish, my mom cut me off impatiently. “Lily, are you not understanding me? I donated all our money. I am not humoring you.” “Instead of wasting time here, you better hurry up and figure out how to apply for those student loans. Don’t blame me when school starts and you have no money for tuition.” Hearing this, a deep sense of despair washed over me. 4 Ever since my dad died, my mom had stopped joking around with me. But this was huge. She hadn’t breathed a word of it beforehand. So even though she had laid it all out, a tiny part of me still held onto hope. After all, with the house money, she had well over two million dollars. Even a saint reincarnated would hesitate before giving all that away at once. But when I checked her bank account balance and saw zero, my hope shattered. “Something this massive, and you didn’t even tell me before giving it all away?” I was so angry I could barely breathe. My mom just replied coldly, “Lily, this is the money your father and I worked hard for. It has nothing to do with you. How I choose to handle it is my business.” “Even if I didn’t donate it, even if I burned it all, you still wouldn’t have a say.” At those words, tears finally spilled down my cheeks. I thought that after my dad died, my mom and I, depending solely on each other, shared a special bond. I never imagined this was how she truly felt. “You’re eighteen now. Legally, I have no obligation to support you anymore,” my mom said with absolute cruelty. I thought back to her obsession with those wilderness survival videos over the past six months and couldn’t help but ask, “So you’ve been waiting for this day all along, haven’t you?” “Yes,” my mom admitted readily. She pointed to a few cardboard boxes stacked in the corner of the living room. “I’ve already bought all my gear.” “I negotiated with the buyer; you can stay here until you leave for college, so you have a place for a little while longer.” 5 I felt like the sky had fallen. The last time I felt this way was when my dad died. I grew up middle-class, so I had never really experienced hardship. And now, I was suddenly being told I had to rely on loans for college and work part-time just to eat… My mom was ruthless enough to not leave me a single dime. “If you want to do charity, I won’t stop you. But I’m your daughter, and you couldn’t even leave me enough for basic tuition and living expenses?” I genuinely couldn’t understand why she would do this. “Lily, you’re eighteen. You need to learn to be independent,” my mom said, looking at me with undisguised disdain. “Do you know how many kids out there can’t even afford high school? I supported you through graduation; you should be grateful.” “So you’re saying you’d rather abandon your own flesh and blood to help people you don’t even know?” I asked, my eyes red. But my mom dodged the question. “The money is already donated. There’s no point in arguing about it now.” As if afraid I wouldn’t believe her, she showed me her text history with a real estate agent. It turned out she had been planning to sell the house long before my final exams, just waiting for me to turn eighteen. 6 To ensure I could actually attend college, I had to put this situation aside temporarily and focus on securing my student loans. I had never looked into it before and had no idea what the process was. I had to research everything online and consult with my high school counselor. Meanwhile, my mom had absolutely no intention of helping me. While I was running around getting my application materials together, my mom packed her bags and left. Just like when she donated all our money, she didn’t say a word to me. If I hadn’t noticed her things missing and called her, she probably never would have told me. Over the phone, my mom said, “Lily, when school starts, you’ll have to get there yourself. I won’t be dropping you off.” Maybe I had heard too many cruel things from her lately, because hearing this, I felt completely numb. When I didn’t respond, my mom added, “Don’t blame me for being a tough mother. You’re not a kid anymore. You need to learn to survive on your own. Don’t expect me to hold your hand for everything.” “Have I ever expected you to?” I asked, my voice devoid of emotion. When my dad died, she cried every day and handled nothing. Even my dad’s funeral arrangements were handled by me with the help of relatives. The line went silent for a moment. My mom replied coldly, “If you’re upset about this, we can just cut ties. It’s not like I’m expecting you to take care of me when I’m old anyway.” With that, she hung up without a second thought. 7 I was having breakfast with Chloe when the media started calling. These journalists were relentless. Just by piecing together clues online, they managed to track down my contact info. I agreed to a one-hour interview. The condition was that they couldn’t edit or reorder my words out of context, and my face had to be blurred out. Desperate for the exclusive, the reporter agreed. But just to be safe, Chloe set up a camera on a tripod nearby to record everything. The reporter asked, “Have you been in contact with your mother?” I shook my head, squeezing out a few strategic tears. “There are things the internet doesn’t know. The truth is, long before I started college, she had already broken my heart.” I then showed her the barrage of abusive DMs and comments I had received. “I understand that strangers who don’t know the full story might use this kind of language. I get it.” “But she’s different. We both know exactly what happened back then.” “Yet even as I’m being cyberbullied, she hasn’t stepped up to clarify anything… How could I possibly reach out to her under these circumstances?” The reporter paused, then asked, “Are you saying there’s more to the story from back then?” I nodded with a bitter smile. “Right before I left for college, she suddenly informed me that she had sold our house and donated all the money, along with our savings.” “She told me to take out loans for school and work part-time for living expenses.” “She even left without telling me.” I grabbed a tissue and wiped away my tears. After a moment to compose myself, I continued, “When I got back from finalizing my loan paperwork, I realized she was gone. I called her, and she told me she was cutting ties and that I wouldn’t have to worry about taking care of her when she got old.” The reporter looked shocked; she clearly hadn’t anticipated this. I forced a smile. “To be honest, at that time, the house plus our savings amounted to well over two million dollars.” “And she donated all of it?” The reporter’s eyes widened. “She didn’t leave me a single cent.” I looked down, involuntarily recalling my first days of college. 8 “When I first started college, I had so little money I wouldn’t eat breakfast, terrified that if I ate one meal, I wouldn’t have enough for the next.” I wasn’t just trying to play the victim. At the very beginning, I truly lived like that. “During the hardest times, I would just buy a bowl of plain rice and pour the free cafeteria soup over it. If I got hungry at night, I just drank lots of water.” As I spoke, the tears flowed again. Chloe, standing by the camera, wiped her own eyes. She had witnessed my struggles firsthand. “To save money on shampoo, I chopped my hair off.” I pulled out a photo from my freshman year and showed it to the reporter. Seeing the photo, the reporter’s eyes also grew a bit misty. She asked, “Did your mother contact you at all during college?” “No.” I shook my head. “Even though she knew what university I was at, she never once came to see me.” I looked up, tears still streaming down my face. “During my sophomore year, I had acute appendicitis. I needed surgery, but I had no money.” I looked over at Chloe and smiled through my tears. “In the end, it was my roommate, Chloe, who paid for my surgery.” “As they were wheeling me into the operating room, I kept thinking: a roommate I had only known for a year was willing to help me in my darkest hour, yet my own biological mother…” I paused. “…could be so cruel.” “After all this time, have you forgiven her?” the reporter asked. A slow smile crept onto my lips. “If she had truly donated that money to charity, I might have found it in my heart to forgive her. There really are people in this country who can’t even afford to go to school.” “If?” The reporter caught the key word. I chuckled and said slowly, “But from what I’ve discovered, she never actually donated that money…” 9 I was about to elaborate when I saw Chloe frowning. “Sorry, let me interrupt for a second.” She walked over with her phone and whispered, “Lily, you’re trending on Twitter. And they’re destroying you.” Hearing this, the reporter across from me immediately grabbed her phone, likely checking Twitter. I took the phone from Chloe. The screen was on the trending topic tearing me apart. The live feed for the hashtag was filled with uninformed users condemning my cruelty. Of course, there were a few scattered tweets questioning my mom’s narrative. I clicked into a few of the top tweets and realized my mom had posted another video playing the victim. A large influencer account had picked it up, and it shot straight to the trending page. This influencer, completely ignorant of the actual situation, based solely on my mom’s video, concluded that I was a heartless monster who abandoned the mother who raised me. With their dramatic embellishments, I sounded like the devil incarnate. The comments were calling to doxx me. That comment alone had tens of thousands of likes. Chloe saw the tweet too. She was furious. “This person is literally spreading libel! I’m finding a lawyer to gather evidence right now. We’re taking legal action. Let’s see if they keep running their mouth then!” “Yeah,” I said, handing the phone back to Chloe. “I’ll leave that to you.” The reporter looked back and forth between me and Chloe. “This is…” I smiled. “She was my college roommate, and she’s my best friend.” She’s also my savior.

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  • My “Brother” is Actually My Bad Boy Boyfriend

    When Ethan took me to a bar, his friends started teasing him: “Look at the great Ethan Carter, babysitting at a bar?” He shoved a bottle of chocolate milk into my hands: “Kids grow up fast these days, gotta keep a close eye on her.” Later, when I brought a guy friend to meet him, he looked at me and smirked: “You used to call me ‘Hubby’, now you’re calling me ‘Brother’. Don’t you think that’s a little inappropriate?” 1 After my parents passed away in an accident, I was taken in by the Carter family. Before I even had a chance to get used to my new surroundings, Mr. and Mrs. Carter had to leave on a business trip, leaving me alone in the house with their only son, Ethan. He was tall, lounging lazily on the sofa, his long legs seemingly taking up too much space. He had an arrogant, rebellious air about him, and a face that was undeniably striking. I was a junior in high school; he was a senior. Without thinking much of it, I called out, “Brother.” He frowned, his expression flat. “Who’s your brother?” I quietly pointed at him, “You.” I set my backpack down, but before I could even sit, Ethan suddenly spoke up: “I…” I jumped, standing up as straight as a flagpole. He stayed silent for a moment, looking annoyed. “My mom said our families arranged for us to get married when we were kids?” I nodded. “My grandma arranged it with your grandma when they were young.” If it weren’t for that connection, I probably wouldn’t have been taken in by the Carters. “What century is this? Arranged marriages? I don’t want any part of it. Do you?” His eyes were a very light shade of brown. Looking at me against the light, he gave off a somewhat intimidating vibe. I shook my head. “I don’t want it either.” He smirked. “Good. From now on, we live our own lives and mind our own business in this house. Got it?” I nodded. After making that clear, Ethan got up and headed upstairs. I quickly grabbed my backpack and hurried after him. “Bro… Ethan, where am I sleeping?” “Across from me.” I thanked him and hurried downstairs to grab my suitcase. It was heavy, and I struggled to pull it up the stairs. Finally, Ethan effortlessly took it from me and dropped it at my door. “Don’t bother me.” SLAM. His door shut firmly. Mrs. Carter had prepared everything for me. The bed was made, the closet was stocked with new clothes, and there was a desk set up. I tried to do some homework but couldn’t focus. I was starving. I went downstairs to the kitchen and opened the fridge. It was fully stocked with sodas and energy drinks, but not a single piece of actual food. I went back to my room, grabbed some cash, and headed out to buy groceries. This was an upscale suburban neighborhood. I wandered around for a bit, but there weren’t any stores in sight, barely even any people. I had to head back. After hesitating for three seconds, I knocked on Ethan’s door. It took him a long time to answer. He had headphones around his neck and a look of deep annoyance on his face. “Didn’t I say…” “I’m hungry,” I blurted out, my face burning with embarrassment. He paused, looking at me strangely. “You’re this old and you still need someone to feed you?” I felt a bit exasperated. “There’s no food in the kitchen.” “Then go buy some. Out the door, take a left, then a right, walk about half a mile, and there’s a grocery store.” I bought groceries, came back, and knocked on his door again. “What now?” I blinked, feeling like Ethan was looking at me like he wanted to eat me. “Do you want to eat?” “You can cook?” “Yes.” “Why wouldn’t I eat a free, home-cooked meal?” “If you eat my food, you have to take me to school on Monday and introduce me to my teachers.” I looked away awkwardly, avoiding his intense gaze. “I don’t know the way.” And I didn’t know a single soul at this new school. Ethan let out a cynical laugh. “You really know how to push your luck. Fine, deal.” “Thank you, brother.” I practically flew downstairs. After my parents died, my grandma took me in, and we lived with my uncle and aunt. It was okay at first, but over time, my aunt grew to resent me, and by extension, my grandma. After my grandma passed away, my aunt stopped hiding her disdain. Once, I was falsely accused of stealing money and was beaten. When I fought back, I was locked out of the house and told I couldn’t eat. So, when Mr. and Mrs. Carter showed up with a letter from my grandma to take me in, I went with them without hesitation. No matter how bad it was here, it couldn’t be worse than living with my aunt. Except that Ethan seemed to find me really annoying. By the time I finished washing the vegetables, a figure suddenly appeared in the kitchen doorway. I jumped. “When did you get here?” “At the rate you’re going, we won’t eat until midnight. Move over.” “I can help prep.” “Don’t need it.” I had no choice but to leave. I sat on the couch, scrolling through my phone, occasionally glancing towards the kitchen. Half an hour later, Ethan and I were sitting across from each other, eating. I took one bite of the stir-fry and my whole face scrunched up. I had never tasted anything so awful in my life. If you can’t cook, just say so! I can! Why did you insist on doing it? This food could probably poison a pig. Ethan seemed completely oblivious to how terrible his cooking was. “Are you getting full just looking at it?” I quickly looked away, trying to be polite. “The food you make is… very unique.” “If it’s so unique, then finish it all.” My eyes widened. He put down his chopsticks. “This is the first time I’ve ever cooked for someone…” Realizing how that sounded, he roughly ruffled my hair. “Just don’t leave any leftovers.” 2 Thank goodness there were eggs. I made myself a bowl of egg fried rice, cleaned up the kitchen, and went upstairs. Ethan went out. Having the house to myself was relaxing. I did some homework, washed up, and got into bed. Just as I was drifting off, there was a knock at the door. I opened it, yawning. Ethan saw me, his eyes sweeping up and down, and whatever he was about to say died in his throat. After a long pause, he shoved a bag into my hands, his face dark, warning me, “Don’t ever dress like this around the house!” I looked down. I was wearing a little spaghetti-strap nightgown. My face turned beet red. It wasn’t like I did it on purpose! “Though, honestly, you’re flat as a board front and back, so there’s not much to look at anyway.” Me: “…” Considering he brought me late-night takeout, I decided not to argue. “Thanks for the food.” “Don’t flatter yourself. It was leftovers for the dog, but the dog was asleep.” “What dog? We don’t have a dog.” Realizing Ethan was smirking mischievously, I raised my voice in annoyance. “Ethan!” He gave a long, drawn-out “Oh.” “Not calling me ‘brother’ anymore?” Brother, my foot. Ethan was super annoying, but the barbecue was delicious. 3 The next day was Saturday. Even though it was the weekend, I still woke up early. As I came downstairs, I heard a bunch of loud, male voices coming from the living room. I hesitated, wondering if I should go down. The guys in the living room saw me and all turned to stare. Three seconds later. “Holy shit, Ethan, why is there a girl coming downstairs in your house first thing in the morning? What did you do?” “You animal, she looks so young! No wonder you kept lagging out of our game last night, you were busy…” “Shut up, all of you.” Ethan kicked the guy closest to him, frowning. “Come down.” It was incredibly awkward, but I went down anyway. Ethan’s friends all looked older than me, so I just decided to greet them all as “brother.” The guys were thrilled, eagerly shoving sodas into my hands. “Nice to meet you, little sister.” Ethan suddenly reached out, yanked me to his side, snatched a soda from my arms, opened it, took a sip, and said in a teasing, arrogant tone, “Exactly how many ‘good brothers’ do you have?” “Come on, man, why are you bullying the poor girl?” Ethan gave me a half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Was I bullying you?” This guy was so mean. Honestly, I wasn’t really a “good girl” either, but living under someone else’s roof, I had to play the part. So, I gave him a sweet smile and said in my most innocent voice, “My brother is the best to me.” I almost gagged after saying it. Ethan was clearly taken aback, looking at me like I was a ghost. He dragged me out to the garden and warned me in a low voice, “In front of other people, untangle your tongue before you speak to me!” I blinked innocently. “Okay, brother.” “Alright, Chloe, it’s only been one day and you’re already getting bold. Think you can walk all over me?” “I’m not walking all over you. Don’t be dramatic.” For once, Ethan was speechless. He suddenly chuckled, took a step closer, and his voice dropped low. “Call me ‘brother’ again. Let me hear it.” He was too close. So close I could hear his heartbeat and smell the faint, clean scent he wore. I held my breath and took a step back. “Brother.” Then I turned and ran as fast as I could. I was all bravado and no substance. Behind me, I heard Ethan click his tongue, and a barely audible whisper reached my ears. “Little wildcat.” 4 Ethan and his friends were barbecuing in the backyard. They had ordered pre-marinated meat, so they just had to grill it. But teenage guys are terrible at barbecuing. They weren’t paying attention, grilling while playing on their phones, and the meat was turning into charcoal. I watched the third batch of burnt chicken wings get tossed and sighed. At this rate, we wouldn’t eat until next year. “Let me do it.” “Alright, Chloe, you keep an eye on it. I’ll take over when I finish this match.” I grilled a whole plate and set it on the table just as Ethan came out after changing his clothes. He was wearing a black t-shirt, his hair still damp. When he wasn’t talking, he looked very cold and unapproachable. I asked, “What do you want to eat? I’ll grill it for you.” “Hey man, your sister is pretty good at this. It’s actually delicious.” Ethan grabbed the entire plate. “If you want to eat, grill it yourself.” “Come on, man, taking the whole plate is just cruel.” “My sister grilled this for me. You got a problem with that?” He pulled up a chair and sat down. Seeing that I wasn’t moving, he said, “You try a piece first.” I suddenly had the strange feeling of being a king’s food taster, testing the meal to make sure it wasn’t poisoned. I rolled my eyes, plopped down in the chair next to him, and feeling mischievous, put on a glove, grabbed a chicken wing, and said, “Ethan.” He looked up at me, and I took the opportunity to shove the chicken wing into his mouth. My fingers brushed against his soft lips. It felt like an electric shock. I flinched, my hand knocking over a glass of hot water on the table, spilling it all over him. I saw him stiffen and quickly grabbed some napkins to help him wipe it up. But as soon as I reached for the cup, I froze. The water had spilled right onto… that specific area. My face slowly turned crimson. I had never felt a water glass burn so hot. I didn’t know whether to grab it or leave it. I swallowed hard, bracing myself, and moved the cup. I thought I saw him flinch, but before I could be sure, a hand clamped down on the back of my head, forcing me to look up and meet his eyes. Our eyes locked. Ethan’s dark eyes were fierce and intense, but his voice was a bit hoarse. “Staring at a guy’s crotch… what’s wrong with you? Get up.” He pulled me up, quickly let go, and took long strides back into the house. The other guys were confused. “What’s wrong with him? Where’s he going? Is he done playing?” “He spilled something on his pants…” After saying that, I followed him upstairs. A while later, Ethan came out. Seeing me standing there, he wasn’t as fierce as before, looking a bit cocky. “Didn’t get a good enough look?” I choked, looking at the ceiling, looking at the floor, looking anywhere but at him. “Are… are you burned?” Ethan was an only child. If he got seriously burned down there, I’d be dead meat. Ethan was silent for a long time. I thought he wasn’t going to answer, when his voice, deliberately lowered, tickled my ear. “Do you want to… check it for me?” 5 Truly spoken like a teenage boy. They’ll say anything. I pretended to be innocent. “Sure! And I can hand-wash those pants for you, too.” As soon as the words left my mouth, Ethan’s look changed to one that clearly said, “Are you out of your mind?” Three seconds later, he gritted his teeth. “Get out of my sight. Right now.” I sprinted into the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face until the burning sensation subsided. ………… On Monday, I woke up bright and early. The housekeeper had already made breakfast. I had just finished eating when Ethan came downstairs, his hair a mess, looking like he had just rolled out of bed. He grabbed a bagel, swallowed it in two bites, chugged a glass of warm water, and was done in less than a minute. “Let’s go.” Now I understood why Mrs. Carter told me not to wait for him to eat. I hurried after him. When I saw him pull out his bicycle, I was dumbfounded. “Where am I supposed to sit?” There was no backseat. Ethan just gave a casual “Oh.” “You can run behind me.” I almost choked. Then I saw him let go of the handlebars and lean back slightly. “Right here on the crossbar. Take it or leave it.” Take it. Of course I’d take it. I awkwardly climbed on. It wasn’t until he grabbed the handlebars, his body leaning forward, practically caging me in his arms, that I felt incredibly awkward. “Did you take a shower this morning?” I asked, trying to make conversation. “Did you see me?” I almost fell off the bike. “No, it’s just… your body wash smells exactly like mine.” I figured Mrs. Carter had bought us the same kind. Ethan gave a lazy “Oh.” “So you’re saying you smell like me?” Is that something you should say?! Wait, what kind of inappropriate conversation was this? What was I even saying? This was a terrible attempt at small talk. I just shut my mouth and stayed quiet the whole ride to school. Ethan might have a sharp tongue, but he made sure everything was taken care of. He showed me around, took me to the principal’s office, and only then went to his own homeroom. I was put in my new class and ended up sitting next to a girl named Maya. We became fast friends after bonding over some school gossip for one period. After class, she came back from the bathroom and handed me a meal card. “Ethan told me to give this to you.” “Did he say why he gave it to me?” “Probably worried you wouldn’t be able to eat. You’re new so you might not know, but our cafeteria doesn’t take cash. The staff member who handles the cards is only here on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so you wouldn’t be able to get one today. Hey… you two aren’t dating, are you?” “He’s my cousin.” “What a shame. Incest is illegal.” “…” 6 After dinner, Maya and I went for a walk around the track, which really just meant we were going to watch the guys play basketball. “Guys look their absolute best during two stages of their lives: high school and college. The abs are just top-tier. We’re here to relax so we have energy for evening study hall. Look, all these girls are here to relax too,” Maya said. I suddenly remembered a funny video I’d seen online recently about a girl playing blindfolded hide-and-seek with a bunch of hot guys. I chuckled. My eyes were drawn to a tall, lean guy in a blue and white jersey. He did a three-step layup and dunked the ball. The girls around me went crazy, cheering excitedly. Caught up in the atmosphere, I let out a loud, piercing wolf whistle. Suddenly, everyone around us went completely silent, making my whistle echo incredibly loudly. Not just the girls, but even the guys on the court turned to look at me. “Whoa, Ethan, another girl’s gone crazy for you.” The guy in the blue and white jersey was none other than Ethan. Our eyes met, and he smirked. He looked good, but I could clearly see the mischievous glint in his eye. I pretended to be cool. “Let’s go back.” “You don’t want to watch anymore? Ethan’s really good at basketball, and he’s hot.” “Do you think your own brother is hot?” “No, I think my brother looks like a dog.” “I feel the same way.” 7 After evening study hall, I didn’t wait for Ethan and walked home by myself. I had just finished a practice test when there was a knock at the door. I opened it a crack and peeked out. “What’s wrong?” “Come out.” “I’m scared of the dark.” Ethan looked a bit exasperated. “You weren’t scared when you were wolf-whistling at the track, were you?” “That wasn’t me!” He gave a slow, sarcastic “Oh,” pulled out his phone, and played a video someone had clearly taken of me. The entire second floor echoed with my very loud, very inappropriate wolf whistle. “…” “Good girl?” Ethan let out a soft laugh. I felt like he was mocking me. “…” “From now on, at school, you are not allowed to whistle at guys. If I catch you, I’ll break your legs.” 8 Ethan started biking me to school in the mornings and walking me home after evening study hall. Before long, a lot of girls knew that Ethan had a “cousin” who had just transferred. So, all the love letters they were too scared to give him directly were shoved into my hands, and all the gifts they were too shy to present in person were given to me to pass along. The most ridiculous one was a girl who called me in the middle of the night, asking me to go check if Ethan was asleep, and if he wasn’t, to take a picture of his abs for her. She even Venmo’d me twenty bucks. Hesitating for even a second would have been disrespectful to that twenty bucks. I immediately knocked on Ethan’s door and poked my head in. “Are you interested in a quick business opportunity?” “Are you short on cash?” “It’s super easy. You just let me take a picture of you, and you make five bucks. Good deal, right?” “Nudes?” My eyes lit up, but I tried to act demure as I pulled out my phone. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly ask for that.” Ethan’s lip twitched, and he motioned for me to come over. I eagerly trotted over. He snatched my phone out of my hand. I tried to grab it back, but he pinned me down with one hand and scrolled through my phone with the other. “I’m only worth five bucks?” “Give it back!” “My picture, and you only give me five bucks. Chloe, you’re pretty good at using me to make money. A high school boy is worth more than…” “Ethan!” My face flushed red. Like a cat getting its tail stepped on, I lunged at him. He was caught off guard, and I tackled him to the floor. The phone slipped from his hand and slid across the room. I was a bit dazed from the fall, but my first thought was: Thank god he didn’t see my texts. My conversations with Maya were completely unhinged. But man, that fall hurt. I complained, “Why are you so hard everywhere?” “Get up.” Ethan’s voice sounded a bit strained. I mumbled an “Oh” and let him pull me up. Before I could fully recover, Ethan practically shoved me out of his room. The door slammed shut, almost hitting my nose. The next second, the door cracked open and my phone was thrust out. Weirdo. I was suddenly annoyed. I went downstairs to get a glass of water, and as I walked back up, I could faintly hear the shower running in his room. The next morning during reading period, I found a fifty-dollar bill tucked inside my English textbook. Mrs. Carter always put money in an envelope for me; only Ethan would just slip it into a book. He remembered me saying I was broke last night and was worried I wouldn’t have money to spend. My heart felt full, and an uncontrollable feeling slowly began to bubble up inside me. 9 Half a month later, Mr. and Mrs. Carter came back and brought us gifts. Ethan grabbed his, lazily headed upstairs, but was stopped by Mrs. Carter. “Help your sister carry hers.” “It’s okay, Auntie, I can carry it. It’s not heavy,” I quickly said, hugging the large stuffed animal she had given me. “Your brother hasn’t been bullying you, has he?” “No, my brother even bought me a bike.” Then I added, feeling a bit shy, “He gave me pocket money, too.” Ever since the photo incident, he stopped giving me rides on his bike. “If he gives it to you, take it. Seeing you two get along makes me happy. We’re family, don’t treat him like a stranger. If anyone at school dares to bully you, tell him.” “Okay, Auntie,” I said sweetly. Ethan suddenly let out a short laugh, clearly mocking the fact that I acted differently around his parents than I did with him. “What’s so funny?” Mrs. Carter asked. “Nothing. Just suddenly remembered that when I was playing basketball, a girl wolf-whistled at me.” He’s never going to let that go, is he? Mrs. Carter frowned. “Don’t you go messing around with girls!” “Maybe the girls are messing around with me.” “What?” “Mom, I’m going upstairs to do homework.” Ethan dropped the subject and looked at me with a half-smile. “Sister, aren’t you coming up?” I was. I followed him with a deadpan expression. Before going into my room, I gave him a deep bow. “I’m sorry, brother. I shouldn’t have tried to sell your photo. And I’m returning the meal card from last time. Thank you.” “Kowtow once and I’ll forgive you.” I instantly bristled. “I didn’t even sell it! I gave the money back!” “Then we’re good, right?” “I don’t have to kowtow?” I was still a bit confused. “Are you thinking of some weird way to get back at me?” “Want to know?” I didn’t say anything, and Ethan added, “I wouldn’t recommend being curious.” “???” “The things teenage guys think about are dirtier than a public restroom.” 10 The weekend came quickly. Ethan had made plans to hang out with some classmates. Mrs. Carter was watching TV and pulled some cash out of her wallet, stuffing it into my pocket. “Have your brother take you out for a bit. Buy some snacks you like.” “Mom, we’re a bunch of guys. What are we supposed to do with a girl tagging along?” “Why can’t you have fun with a girl around?” So, Ethan was forced to take me with him. Once we were out the door, I said, “You go hang out. I’ll just walk around for a bit. We can call each other when it’s time to go home.” “My mom said you have to stay with me.” My eyes widened. “Since when do you listen to her so well?” “She controls the family inheritance. If I don’t listen to her, she might not give it to me. Then how would I take care of you?” “…” When we got to the venue, I finally realized Ethan was attending a classmate’s birthday party. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier? I could have bought a gift. It’s rude to show up empty-handed.” “You’re with me, why do you need to buy a gift?” True. Anyway, everyone thought we were cousins. Suddenly, my hair felt loose. Ethan had untied my hair tie, letting my hair fall over my neck. “What are you doing?” “Borrowing a hair tie. To ward off evil spirits.” “…” I was wearing a v-neck dress that day and had been feeling a bit chilly. With my hair down, I felt much better, so I let him be. He opened the door and walked in, and I followed closely behind. There were quite a few people in the private room, both guys and girls, most of them his classmates. My mind instantly flashed back to what Ethan had said at home. He probably really didn’t want to bring me along, right? But he couldn’t refuse. I picked a spot in the corner and sat down. A girl in a little white dress stood up, walked past me, and stood in front of Ethan, looking shy. “Ethan, sit next to me. I saved a seat for you.” The crowd started cheering and teasing them. Amidst the noise, only the two of them were standing, like the main characters in a movie. For some reason, I felt a bit down. I weirdly found myself disliking that girl, while simultaneously realizing how inexplicable my reaction was. Overthinking it gave me a stomachache. Just then, Ethan suddenly spoke up: “Sorry, it’s taken.” The room went silent for three seconds. His friend nudged him. “Since when? You’re not just making that up, are you? There are no girls around you. You don’t even have a female mosquito buzzing around you.” “Hey, Chloe, have you ever seen Ethan’s girlfriend?” a girl suddenly turned and asked me. I let out a confused “Ah.” How was I supposed to know? Afraid of saying the wrong thing, I just looked at Ethan. But he didn’t give me a single hint, so I just made something up. “I don’t remember clearly. He’s had quite a few.” The room erupted in laughter, everyone teasing him. That uncomfortable feeling in my chest grew stronger, making me so agitated I couldn’t stay another second. I got up and headed to the restroom, splashing my face with water to calm down. Someone tapped my shoulder, and I turned around. “Hey, it looks like your time of the month started,” she said, pointing at my dress. My periods have always been irregular. No wonder my stomach hurt. I went into a stall and texted Ethan: “I’m leaving first.” He replied instantly: “???” Leaving right after arriving seemed a bit dramatic, so I explained: “My stomach hurts.” He didn’t reply again. I put my phone away and snuck out of the building like a thief, looking around nervously. Whatever, it was dark outside, no one could see. I’d just go home and change. I even got a plastic bag from a convenience store to sit on so I wouldn’t stain the Uber seat. Just as I opened my phone to request a ride, a dark shadow loomed over me. I jumped. “Ethan? Why did you come out?” “Didn’t you say you weren’t feeling well?” Realizing he wanted to take me home, I quickly waved my hands. “You don’t have to.” “If I let you go back alone late at night, my mom would kill me.” So it was because he was afraid of Auntie. I felt a bit disappointed. “I’m not sick.” He looked up at me. I looked a bit uncomfortable and mumbled, “My period started.” He clearly didn’t anticipate this. He froze for a moment, his ears gradually turning red. “Is your dress stained?” I gave an “Mhm.” “I just don’t know if I stained the sofa in the room. Could you go in and check for me?” He was silent for a moment, then took off his jacket and draped it over me. His voice was a bit low. “It covers it. Stay here and don’t move. I’ll go check.” I obediently waited for him. In less than three minutes, Ethan came back out. “No stains.” I breathed a sigh of relief. “Do you need to buy… that?” “Yeah.” After he bought it and I went to the restroom to sort myself out, I felt the atmosphere between Ethan and me had become a bit weird. “I called an Uber. It’ll be here soon.” “I might… stain your jacket.” I stammered. “If it gets dirty, it gets dirty.” 11 In the Uber, Ethan and I sat on opposite sides, leaving enough room for two people between us. The driver laughed. “Young lovers having a fight?” I glanced at Ethan; he showed absolutely no intention of speaking, so I explained, “We aren’t a couple.” “Haha, my wife said the exact same thing back in the day.” “He’s my brother,” I insisted. The driver laughed even harder. “My wife loves calling me ‘brother’ too.” “…” I sat there with a deadpan expression. Ethan, however, chuckled. “She does love calling me ‘brother’.” “…” After getting home and changing clothes, I curled up in bed. Just as I was about to fall asleep, Mrs. Carter brought me a steaming bowl of ginger tea. “Stomach cramps? Ethan came to find me earlier and said you weren’t feeling well.” My eyes welled up with tears. When I lived with my aunt, if I avoided cold water during my period, she’d call me dramatic and say I had “princess syndrome.” “Thank you, Auntie.” When my mom was around, she used to make this for me too. Mrs. Carter rubbed my head and tucked a hot water bottle into my bed. “Put this on your lower back, it’ll help. If it still hurts too much, take a painkiller. You can always call me if you need anything.” Watching Mrs. Carter’s retreating figure as she headed downstairs, I suddenly really wanted to call out to her. I wanted to tell her that I wasn’t actually as perfectly well-behaved as I seemed. I loved causing trouble, I could be mischievous, and sometimes, if I bombed a test, I’d get a call home to the parents. But I was so terrified that if she found out I was disobedient or difficult, she’d be disappointed. My aunt always told me I was a burden, and if I didn’t learn to behave, no one would want me. Tears fell drop by drop into the ginger tea, creating tiny ripples. Suddenly, my bedroom door opened. My tear-stained face collided perfectly with Ethan’s gaze. I frantically wiped my tears, but he was already standing in front of me, leaning down to look at me. He asked, uncertain, “Did my mom scold you?” “How is that even possible?” He was silent for three seconds. “Does it hurt a lot?” “Not really. Don’t stand so close to me.” I couldn’t exactly tell him I was crying because I was touched, could I? It was a little embarrassing. Ethan pinched my cheek. “You don’t have to get up so early tomorrow.” Maybe because I was living under someone else’s roof, I basically never slept in. I always tried to help out with chores whenever I could, even though Ethan usually ended up interrupting and finishing them for me. My eyes darted around. “Got it.” “Why do you get up so early anyway? It’s only been a few days and you look ten years older. Keep this up and you’ll be a haggard old lady before you even graduate high school.” “…”

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  • Raising the Wolf

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

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  • Playing Games with the Boy Next Door

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

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  • The Spreadsheet: Leaving the Safe Choice Behind

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

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  • The Boss Moves In: Evicting My Cheating Ex and His Pick-Me Girlfriend

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

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  • Suitably Left Behind

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

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