Category: English

My husband cheated on me. On the way to file for divorce, we got into a car accident. Before he died, he was still yelling at me, “You were the desperate one, practically climbing into my bed when you were seventeen!” When I opened my eyes again, I was seventeen, back in the basement apartment where we’d eloped. This time, I took one look at him and turned to run. But to my surprise, he’d been reborn too. And he grabbed me, refusing to let me go. At twenty-nine, my seven-year marriage to Jake Miller had finally become a sick joke. On the way to the divorce lawyer, I was crying hysterically in the car, pointing my finger at him. “Jake Miller, are you even human? I suffered with you since I was seventeen, and now that things are good, you just turn around and find some fresh-out-of-college intern? Did a dog eat your conscience?” Jake gripped the steering wheel, that sickening smirk plastered on his face. “My conscience? Ava Reed, we’re two sides of the same coin. You were the one who wanted to elope with me. You practically jumped into my bed at seventeen. Now you’re playing the innocent victim?” I was trembling with rage, just about to lunge and scratch his face when a blinding white flash erupted directly ahead. The out-of-control truck speeding toward us slammed into our car like a rampaging beast. Excruciating pain, darkness, then an absolute void. When I next regained consciousness, it was the smell of damp mold that choked me awake. I groggily opened my eyes and saw sunlight filtering through a tiny, palm-sized window, dust motes dancing wildly in the golden beams. The walls were plastered with old newspapers, so cramped it was suffocating. The tiny full-sized bed beneath me was covered in a faded, pilled pink piglet sheet that looked like it belonged in a thrift store. I stared for a long moment, then lifted a hand to touch my face. My skin was taut, free of fine lines, full of youthful collagen. I was seventeen again. Back then, I thought this place was paradise, a love nest where love alone was enough. Now, it barely looked better than a dog kennel. I still can’t believe how incredibly stupid I was back then, leaving a sprawling villa for this dump. Jake was an orphan, raised on the wrong side of the tracks, a wild card with a reputation for a quick temper and even quicker fists. He was notorious in our area, a real hell-raiser. My family, on the other hand, was well-off. My parents were both high-level professionals, always had my life mapped out, treating me like their little princess. By all accounts, Jake and I were like two parallel lines, never meant to intersect. The trouble started that snowy day. I was walking home from school, passing through a dead-end alley, when I saw Jake being beaten by a group of guys. After they scattered, I saw him lying in the snow, wearing only a thin black hoodie, a chilling red stain spreading beneath him. I was young then, and too soft-hearted. I should have run, but my feet felt rooted to the spot. On a strange impulse, I dialed 911, and even took off my down jacket to cover him. “Hey… are you okay?” He struggled to lift his eyelids, his eyes startlingly dark. “Aren’t you scared of me?” I stammered, “We go to the same school. Fighting is bad. You shouldn’t fight anymore.” He scoffed, ignored me, and closed his eyes, pretending to be unconscious. I foolishly squatted there, shielding him from the wind and snow until the ambulance arrived. I even used half a year’s worth of my allowance to cover his medical bills.

I thought that would be the end of it. But a few days later, Jake swaggered into our classroom. Amidst a chorus of gasps, he slapped a wad of crumpled bills onto my desk, a dangerously handsome smirk on his face. “Here’s the money from the other day. Thanks, good girl.” He walked out, and just like that, I became the notorious bad boy’s rumored girlfriend. My friend tugged at my sleeve, shrieking, “Ava, are you crazy? That’s Jake Miller! I heard he’s involved with gangs, maybe even killed someone! Stay away from him!” Some girls who loved drama crowded around. “Hey, you actually know Jake? Can you get me his SnapChat? He looks so hot on his motorcycle!” I was completely bewildered. On the way home from school, a motorcycle roared and cut me off. Jake took off his helmet, revealing those signature dark, narrow eyes, and whistled at me. “Get on. I’ll take you for a ride.” His gang of friends behind him started jeering. “Jake, this chick looks too plain. Boring.” “Yeah, the ‘It Girl’ from the tech school is where it’s at. Short skirts, big boobs, long legs – now THAT’S hot!” My face turned white with fear. Like a startled rabbit, I lowered my head, scurried around his bike, and ran. The sound of their raucous laughter followed me. Back then, I truly hated him. I thought he was a lowlife, from a completely different world than mine. But Jake was thick-skinned. He blocked me every day, and I couldn’t shake him. Until one day, I stayed late for detention and encountered a drunk harassing me in the alley. Just as I was despairing, Jake suddenly appeared, like some kind of guardian angel, kicking the drunk a good six feet away. He took off his jacket, still warm from his body, and wrapped it around me, his voice unusually gentle. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” That night, he followed me all the way home, watching until I was safely inside. That night, a tiny crack formed in my seventeen-year-old heart’s defenses.

Young love, it came on like a hurricane, fast and fierce. Jake and I started dating, and, predictably, we were caught by a teacher, and our parents were called. My parents were furious. They locked me in the house, forced me to break up with him, saying I had no self-respect, that I was ruining my life. But back then, my mind was only on Jake. For the first seventeen years, I’d lived like a puppet on a string, docile and obedient. Jake was like a hammer, shattering the glass bubble of my life, dragging me headfirst into a raw, dangerous, yet strangely captivating new world. He took me skipping class to bars, snuck me out to a hilltop to watch the stars at midnight, and awkwardly tried to feed me medicine when I caught a cold. For the sake of “love,” I jumped out of my second-story window and eloped with Jake. At the train station, he held me tight, his heart hammering like a drum against my chest. He asked, “Ava, are you scared of suffering with me?” I looked up, my eyes full of light. “I’m not scared!” “Good! I, Jake Miller, swear that if I ever betray you in this life, I’ll die a miserable death!” Those vows sounded so sincere back then. The days that followed were indeed hard. We lived in a cramped basement apartment, ate instant noodles, and huddled together for warmth in the winter. He’d pick out the only fried egg for me and warm my icy feet with his stomach. We were desperate to make something of ourselves. Jake was sharp and ambitious. He caught onto several hot trends early, and his business took off like a rocket. I, too, transformed from a sheltered girl who’d never lifted a finger to a fierce business partner, fighting side-by-side with him. We moved out of the basement, into a penthouse, and eventually, a standalone villa. The day he proposed, he rented every digital billboard in the city, and fireworks lit up the sky all night long. I honestly thought that was our happily ever after, that we’d live the fairy tale ending forever. Until that young female intern, Chloe Peterson, showed up. She was young, vibrant, and her adoring gaze was exactly like mine had been all those years ago. Jake fell for her. Fights, silent treatments, throwing things—eventually, it all devolved into mutual destruction. The lovers who once shared everything became enemies who wanted nothing more than to tear each other apart.

I was lost in thought when the door suddenly pushed open. Eighteen-year-old Jake walked in, his eyes locked on me. There was no youthful adoration in them—only a shocking complexity: the weariness and resentment of someone who’d survived a storm. Just one look, and I understood. He’d been reborn too. And he knew I had been reborn. In this small room, once filled with sweet memories, the air hung thick with unspoken tension, almost tangible. “Um…” Jake cleared his throat, his voice rough. “Earlier in the car… I was just so furious I didn’t think before I spoke, okay? I didn’t mean those terrible things I said.” Looking at him, I suddenly found it absurd. Years ago, in this very room, he had held me and said, “Ava, I’ve put you through so much. I promise I’ll give you the best of everything in the world.” I believed him then, truly. Just as I believed him when he called me “desperate” in the car before we died. The love was real, and the hate was real too. Time truly is a cruel thing; it can turn a precious gem into a worthless stone. We sat at opposite ends of that narrow bed, neither of us speaking. “Ava, since we’re both back…” Jake was about to say something when a frantic pounding on the door interrupted him. I got up to open it. The moment the door swung open, I froze. Standing outside was my mom, Sarah Reed. The woman I remembered as always elegant and put-together now had messy hair, eyes swollen shut, and a sickly, grayish complexion, like she’d aged ten years overnight. She grabbed my wrist in a vice grip that made me wince. “Come on! You’re coming home with me right now!” Memories instantly overlapped. In my previous life, it was at this exact moment that my mom found me here. She cried and begged me to come back, promising that if I did, everything from before would be forgiven. But I was still so stubbornly naive, like I was under some kind of spell. I wrenched my hand free, yelling that I loved Jake and would never marry anyone else. My mom trembled with rage and slapped me hard across the face. “I wasted all these years raising you! You’d throw away your own mother for a boy?” Finally, completely heartbroken, she left, tossing one last remark over her shoulder: “From now on, I’ll pretend I never had a daughter!” From that day until I died, we never saw each other again. Later, when Jake became wealthy, I brought gifts hoping to mend our relationship, but my dad threw me out—gifts and all. It was the biggest regret of my life, a pain that haunted me every single night. Now, my mom’s voice was raw. “Ava, if you come home with me now, our family can still be whole. But if you insist on staying with this deadbeat, then just pretend I’m dead! Pretend I never gave birth to you!” She continued to spout harsh words, but tears streamed down her face. I looked at her familiar yet strangely aged face, my eyes stinging. How long had it been since I’d seen my mom? My stubbornness in my past life had brought me nothing but ruin and total alienation from everyone I loved. I turned my hand and squeezed her calloused one, gently cutting her off. “Okay, Mom. I’ll come home with you.” My mom’s sobs abruptly stopped. She stared at me wide-eyed, like she couldn’t believe what she’d heard. “What did you say? You… you’ll come home with me?” She’d clearly braced herself for a huge fight and hadn’t expected me to agree so easily. Jake, who had been sitting on the bed, spun around, staring at me with utter disbelief.

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At Chloe’s third wedding, my wife Skylar’s best friend leaned in and whispered: “Skylar, look at me! I married a real estate mogul last time, and now I’m with a tech CEO! How are you still stuck with Liam, that broke loser?” Skylar fell silent, offering no rebuttal. That night, I saw messages on Skylar’s phone — she was consulting a lawyer about divorce and asking Chloe to help her find a new partner. I scoffed. Skylar, since you think I’m not good enough for you, I’m curious to see what kind of man a fool like you can land. When we went to my parents’ place for dinner, Skylar pulled out the divorce papers. “Liam, let’s get a divorce.” Her face was calm, her voice didn’t even waver. She’d clearly made up her mind. Everyone else in the room, except me, gaped in shock. Normally, Skylar and I were considered the perfect couple by them. Married for five years, we’d never once fought. No one ever expected us to be getting a divorce. “Skylar. Why are you divorcing out of nowhere? Did Liam, that jerk, bully you?” Mrs. Carter gripped Skylar’s hand, then turned to glare at me. “What are you staring at? Apologize already! Do I have to teach a grown man how to say sorry?” Mr. Carter chimed in, “If you’ve pushed Skylar to divorce, you must have made an unforgivable mistake.” “Unless you apologize today, you’re not leaving this house!” Skylar’s relatives all nodded in agreement. “Liam, you’re sick! My cousin is so sweet and understanding, what more could you possibly want? Why would you mistreat her?” “Everyone used to say you were gentle and thoughtful. Turns out you’re just a scumbag!” “He probably even hits her!” They looked at me with utter contempt, their words venomous. But the truth was quite the opposite. On the surface, Skylar seemed sweet and sensible, but in reality, her emotions were incredibly unstable, like a ticking time bomb. When she was in a good mood, she was passionate and loving. But when she wasn’t, it was a completely different story. For example, if she woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t sleep, she’d scratch and bite me, doing everything to keep me awake. Another time, when I couldn’t get her the cake she wanted, she threw a fit and locked me out of the bedroom. Of course, she’d always apologize afterward. I loved her. That’s why I tolerated everything, shaping her into the perfect wife. But I never imagined it would all fall apart because of one little jab from her best friend. I took a deep breath and replied calmly, “We don’t have any problems.” “She just thinks I’m not good enough for her anymore.”

What? The room went silent, everyone turning to stare at Skylar. Waiting for her response. “That’s right!” Skylar didn’t hesitate, nodding directly as she admitted, “Chloe was absolutely right.” “Women are meant to marry up, always.” “Her first husband owned a bakery, her second was a real estate developer, and she’s always rocking new diamond necklaces and rings.” “Now, her third husband is a tech CEO, and she’s living a life of endless luxury. Plus, he’s five years younger than her!” “So I can definitely do that too.” She lifted her chin proudly, her eyes brimming with self-confidence. But everyone else was stunned. I let out a bitter laugh. Maybe Skylar never truly saw me from the start. Perhaps she was just enjoying the perks of my kindness and support. After all, she and Chloe always thought I was plain-looking, and being with her was a miracle from heaven. Even if I treated her a hundred times better. Even if I agreed to be DINK. It was all useless. After a brief silence, Mrs. Carter slapped her thigh and urged me, “What are you just standing there for? Apologize and win her back! Buy her a new handbag, get her a necklace.” “You must have done something wrong to upset Skylar! Otherwise, she wouldn’t be doing something so foolish, saying such ridiculous things!” Hearing that, I felt a surge of exasperation. Skylar had just made it so clear, yet they were still blaming me and demanding I grovel. They weren’t even leaving me a shred of dignity. Seeing I didn’t move, Mr. Carter repeatedly nudged my leg with his knee, subtly prompting me, while saying, “Liam, you’re a man. It’s no big deal to swallow your pride or take a hit for the team.” “Saving your marriage is what matters most.” “After all, you won’t find another wife as gentle and beautiful as my daughter anywhere.” “If you don’t win her back today, you’ll regret it forever.” The others started chiming in again. “Apologize now, or my cousin will get serious, and you’ll be finished!” “Marrying my cousin was a huge stroke of luck for you, your family’s been blessed for generations, so hurry up and win her back!” “You big, oblivious idiot, do you even know how to sweet-talk your wife? Even if it’s not your fault, you still need to admit it!” Not a single person in the room spoke up for me. They all told me to back down. But why? Because of Skylar’s looks? Because of her inflated ego? Because she couldn’t be content with what she had? Thinking this, I slowly stood up, looked Skylar in the eye, and said, word for word, “I agree to the divorce.” “From now on, our marriage is over. We have nothing to do with each other.”

Though my voice wasn’t loud, it stunned everyone. Even Skylar paused for a moment, seemingly surprised I agreed so readily. Before anyone could react, I took the divorce papers, signed them, and pressed my thumbprint. “Are you out of your mind?!” At that moment, Mr. and Mrs. Carter finally snapped back to reality, both jumping to their feet in agitation. “Liam!” “Are you even a man? Is it that hard to just apologize? Skylar says divorce, and you just agree? Can’t you show some responsibility?” “Tear up those divorce papers, get on your knees and apologize to Skylar! List all your mistakes and beg for forgiveness, one by one.” Skylar was the one who initiated the divorce, yet they weren’t trying to talk her out of it. Instead, they were convinced I was the one who messed up. Like daughter, like parents, I guess. The whole family was just a bunch of arrogant, self-important people. Skylar, fearing I might actually tear up the papers, quickly snatched them back. “Let’s go. To the courthouse. The staff will be leaving soon.” She was so impatient. It only made me feel like I’d wasted my genuine affection on someone undeserving. What did these five years of marriage even mean? A total dumpster fire. I said nothing, just followed behind Skylar. Mr. Carter grabbed my arm, furious. “Liam!” “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. You’re over thirty. If you divorce my daughter, even a stray dog wouldn’t want you!” “If you know what’s good for you, get on your knees and apologize right now. I’ll put in a good word for you. If that’s not enough, hand over your parents’ retirement savings for us to hold, just to give my daughter some peace of mind.” “Oh, and that old house they live in? The property deed should be changed to my daughter’s name.” He’d brought this up before. Now, he was taking advantage of the situation, trying to get their greedy hands on my parents’ retirement home. Unbelievable. If I agreed, would I even have the right to call myself a son? I clenched my fists, shaking off his hand. “Maybe I won’t be the one nobody wants.” With that, I walked away without looking back. Behind me, I heard Mr. and Mrs. Carter’s curses. “You cursed jerk! You’re so selfish! It’s just retirement money and a house! No wonder my daughter divorced you!” “My daughter with you? It’s like pairing a goddess with a peasant.” “Exactly, this divorce? Best thing that ever happened!” “My daughter will only marry up, and you? You can just rot in the ground!” Skylar’s relatives also hurled insults. They called me ungrateful trash. They said I wasn’t handsome enough, and I had no money. But over the years, I’d helped them out countless times, lent them a lot of money that I never got back. I’d even given Mr. and Mrs. Carter many expensive gifts. Once, they were in a car accident, and Skylar was away on a business trip. My parents and I took care of them for a whole month. I thought five years of devoted care and diligent effort would at least earn me some respect. Now it seemed it wasn’t just Skylar who looked down on me. Deep down, the entire Carter family thought I had married above my station. No matter how hard I tried, it was useless. On the way to the courthouse. Skylar turned to me and asked, “What did you mean by ‘maybe I won’t be the one nobody wants’?” “Are you saying I can’t land a good partner? Or that you think you can find someone better than me?”

Before I could answer. Skylar suddenly laughed out loud. “Liam, stop dreaming. What else can you offer besides emotional support?” “Might as well tell you.” “Honestly, I got tired of all your ‘goodness’ a long time ago.” I never thought she’d twist the knife even as we were parting ways. I remembered when we first got married, Skylar told me, “You’re the only one in the world who’s genuinely good to me. Everyone else has an ulterior motive.” “I love you, and I’ll never get tired of you.” But now? Our relationship ended before another woman even showed up. After finalizing the divorce. We returned to our home. The first thing Skylar did was take down our wedding photos, smash the frame, and burn the pictures inside. “Liam.” “Delete everything related to me.” “I don’t want any bad memories left behind.” Her tone was almost command-like. For a moment, she seemed like a stranger. “Okay.” I nodded, pulled out my phone, and deleted Skylar’s Ins account, her phone number, and all the photos I’d saved. Gazing at my almost-empty phone storage, I paused, then let out a long sigh of relief, like a huge burden had been lifted. Skylar thoroughly checked my phone, then, satisfied, grabbed her suitcase and headed for the door. But at the entrance, she suddenly stopped. “Liam.” She called my name softly. I looked up, meeting her eyes, and couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness. “Liam, people have to look out for themselves, don’t they? Don’t blame me. Blame yourself for not being good enough.” This time, Skylar didn’t look back, turning and walking away, her steps light. Chloe was already waiting downstairs. Next to her was a stylishly dressed man. He leaned against a Ferrari sports car, a Rolex on his wrist, looking very wealthy. “Skylar! Congrats on the divorce! Congrats on escaping that misery!” Chloe smiled, waving at her, then introduced the man beside her: “This is my husband’s good friend, Damien!” “He said he just loves women like you!” Hearing this, a blush rose on Skylar’s cheeks. She looked at him closely, her eyes lighting up. Damien curved his lips into a smile, opening the rear car door for Skylar. He said humorously, “Princess, your carriage awaits.” “You’re so funny,” Skylar laughed. I watched everything from upstairs. Seeing the luxury car drive away, Damien looked oddly familiar. So I sent a picture to my college friend, who’s an international police officer. [Isn’t this the wanted criminal you guys are looking for?]

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It had only been a month since we got married when Alexander Thorne got into a car accident. He injured his testicles and lost his fertility from then on. He clung to me, weeping:”Nancy, I can never have children in this life. Let’s just get a divorce.” I immediately assured him I wouldn’t leave him. After all, he was the heir to Thorne Corporation. To spare him from feeling insecure, I quickly underwent a tubal ligation myself. Ten months later, I saw him arm-in-arm with Daisy Miller, the struggling college student I’d been sponsoring. In her arms, she held a baby. Daisy whispered shyly, “What if Nancy finds out we have a child?” Alex scoffed, “So what if she finds out? She’s already had her tubes tied. If she dares to make a fuss, we’ll just say it was an accident. She should be grateful you gave me a child.” Back home, I didn’t storm in like a madwoman to confront Alex. Instead, I calmly retrieved the dashcam footage. The video showed Alex taking Daisy to the hospital on the very afternoon of our wedding day. Inside the car, they embraced passionately. “Alex, I’m really pregnant! To have a baby just like you… I could die happy.” Alex’s eyes crinkled with a smile. He lovingly wrapped his arm around her waist. “Silly girl, I can’t marry you in this lifetime, but all my companies will belong to you and our son. Don’t worry, even if I’m married, I won’t have children with Nancy.” Daisy lifted her small face from his chest, a hint of jealousy in her voice. “Alex, Nancy won’t agree to not having children, will she? She’s rich and powerful. If she has kids, won’t our son be bullied by them his whole life?” As she spoke, she buried her face in his chest, her eyes welling up. “I don’t care if Nancy looks down on me, but if our child has to live his entire life under her shadow, I’d be heartbroken.” Alex gently kissed her forehead, then a chilling glint flickered across his face. “She’ll never have children. After our wedding, I’ll stage a car accident, tell her I’m injured, and then get a vasectomy. Your child will be my only child in this life.” Daisy immediately teared up, then lifted her plump lips to meet his. Moments later, ignoring Daisy’s pregnancy, they began a frantic session right there in the car. In that instant, my rage soared. Alex, we came from prominent families, always destined to be together, childhood sweethearts in a way. I never imagined you would scheme against me like this. Well, then I didn’t need to consider our long-standing connection either. As Alex walked in, beaming, my plan was already taking shape.

Alex must have been thoroughly pleased outside; his face was flushed, the lingering lust from his passionate encounter still visible in his eyes. He smiled broadly, pulling out an earring and handing it to me. “Nancy, happy anniversary!” He reached out to pull me into an embrace. In the past, I would have eagerly leaned in, wrapping my arms around his neck and giving him a kiss. But the thought of his lips just having touched that… trash… made me utterly nauseous. I feigned shyness, stepping back two paces. “I’ve prepared a candlelight dinner.” Alex chuckled, pinching my cheek before heading into the bathroom. I immediately grabbed a pack of wet wipes and scrubbed the spot he had touched, going through half the pack. By the time Alex emerged, I had composed myself. I went straight to the point. “Let’s adopt a child. Then, when we’re old, they can inherit our company.” Alex paused, clearly surprised I was willing to adopt. I continued slowly, “You’re close with Director Johnson at the orphanage, aren’t you? Have him keep an eye out for us. If there’s a suitable child, we can adopt them directly.” Alex hesitated, then, after a long moment, he spoke nervously, probing, “Nancy, we agreed to be child-free. Why the sudden change of heart about adopting? After all, it wouldn’t be our biological child. Would you really leave them all your assets?” I smiled sweetly, setting down my wine glass. “Being child-free is good, but I think having a child who can help you with the business when they grow up would be nice.” Seeing my serious demeanor, Alex visibly relaxed. His pathetic act began. “Nancy, I’m so sorry, I…” I immediately shushed him, cutting off his nauseating confession. “We grew up together. As long as you don’t betray me, I’ll dedicate my life to you. But if you were to ever do something to hurt me…” As I spoke, I plunged my fork into the steak, tearing it into tiny pieces with brutal force. Alex’s awkward voice cut through the silence. “No, no, never! Marrying you is my blessing, how could I ever hurt you?” I instantly flashed a perfect smile. “Happy anniversary, honey.”

Alex worked fast. A few days later, he took me to the orphanage. Looking at the newborn baby, barely a month old, I couldn’t help but sneer internally. Alex, this child will drag you straight to hell. Three days after bringing the baby home, I called Daisy. “Daisy, I just adopted a little baby. If you’re not too busy, could you come help me out? I don’t really trust nannies.” Even through the phone, I could hear Daisy’s barely contained euphoria. “Nancy, I’d love to! You treat me like a sister, it’s only right that I help care for my little nephew.” Before I could say another word, Daisy quickly added, “Nancy, I’ll be right over. You can leave our little nephew to me from now on. You just focus on the company.” The call ended with a snap. I smiled, poking the baby’s cheek with a sigh. “Don’t blame me for putting you through this, kid. Your birth is a sin.” Daisy arrived swiftly. As soon as she walked in, she snatched the wailing baby from me, her brows furrowing in genuine concern. “Nancy, why is the baby crying so hard? Is he hungry?” I immediately took the baby back. “He just ate,” I said nonchalantly, “He had seven ounces of formula, and Martha just changed his diaper.” With that, I placed the baby on the sofa. Daisy’s eyes welled up instantly, and she lunged forward, trying to pick up the child. I grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the master bedroom. “Daisy, come see the room I’ve prepared for you. Oh, and you can’t spoil the baby. If he misbehaves, just give him a few taps. An heir to Thorne Corporation can’t be a spoiled brat. He needs to be tough and disciplined from day one.” “Nancy, Star is still so small. You should wait until he’s older to train him, or he might get sick,” Daisy stammered awkwardly. Star? My head buzzed. Star. That was the name Alex and I picked for our future child right after we got engaged. That night, after our engagement party, Alex and I watched the stars on the rooftop. He said if we ever had a son, we’d name him Star. Back then, at eighteen, Alex must have loved me. But with Daisy’s appearance, he gave all our hopes and promises to her. How could you, Alex, give the beautiful name I chose for our child to that woman’s bastard child? You truly are cold-blooded and heartless. My hand slipped. With a splash, the baby fell into the basin, choking and wailing instantly. Daisy completely lost it. She snatched the baby, screaming “Baby, baby!” and bolted out of the bathroom. Alex returned quickly. Seeing Daisy trembling and clutching the baby, her face etched with pain, he immediately rushed to put his arm around her. But then he saw me walking out of the bathroom with a mocking smirk, and he quickly dropped his hand. “Nancy, how could you be so careless? You were giving him a bath, and you let him fall into the water? How can you be a mother like this? If you can’t handle it, let Daisy take care of him. She’s more attentive.” I stared at Alex’s furious face, tossing the towel aside. My voice was chilling. “Alex, this child isn’t even mine biologically. If I don’t personally raise him, how could I ever develop any affection for him?” I cast a scornful glance at Daisy. Go ahead, throw a tantrum now. I bet Alex and Daisy wouldn’t dare. My family’s freely provided patents and massive funding? He wouldn’t give that up. We’d signed an agreement back during our engagement: if he ever betrayed me, the Davies family could withdraw funding and reclaim patent usage rights at any time, with all profits going to me. Alex frowned at me, his eyes filled with disgust. He was about to speak when Daisy shrieked. “Alex, look at Star, what’s wrong with him? His forehead is burning hot!” Only then did I notice the baby’s face was beet red, his body convulsing. Alex’s expression turned to panic. He no longer cared about arguing with me. He rushed out, clutching Daisy and the baby. His urgent shouts echoed in the yard. “Robert, get the car ready, quick! The little master is sick, we need to get to the hospital immediately!”

The engine roared, then a thick plume of exhaust rose as the car sped away, a clear sign of the driver’s desperation. I leisurely smoothed my hair, changed into a fresh outfit, and drove my Cullinan towards my parents’ home. My brother, Andrew, was surprised to see me. “Well, look who it is, the busiest woman in the city! What brings you home, trying to steal one of my deals?” I silently walked to the sofa and sank into it, then rubbed my throbbing forehead. Just a few days had felt like more than everything I’d experienced in my previous twenty years combined. Dad also came out. Seeing my pale face, he immediately asked what was wrong. Rubbing my forehead, I recounted how Alex had tricked me into being child-free, cheated on me with the student I sponsored, and fathered a love child. My father immediately flew into a rage, ready to confront Alex and demand an explanation from his father. I quickly stopped my furious father and called back my brother. “Dad, Andy, what good would it do to teach him a lesson? He’d just cry and apologize. Even if I didn’t forgive him and divorced him, he’d still be the high-and-mighty CEO of Thorne Corporation. But how would that mend the hurt he’s caused me?” Dad and Andy looked at me, perplexed. “Nancy, you’ve always been strong-willed. Tell us your plan. Dad will support you no matter what.” Andy nodded gravely. I smiled, gratified. I wasn’t some disfavored girl like Daisy. I was my parents’ and brother’s cherished princess. The shares of Davies Group had always been split evenly between me and Andy; I had just always let him manage them. I opened my phone and showed Dad the video recorded by the hidden camera. On our wedding anniversary, the day I discovered Alex’s betrayal, I decisively swapped the custom watch I’d bought him for a pair of diamond cufflinks embedded with a tiny camera. That very evening, I clasped them onto his wrist, telling him they symbolized me always being his right-hand woman, and warning him not to take them off, or else it meant he despised me. Alex, feeling guilty, naturally wore them obediently. In the video, Alex was driving wildly, while Daisy sobbed beside him. “Alex, I don’t want to give our baby to that evil woman! She’s deliberately trying to hurt him!” “She can’t have children herself, so she’s twisted. If you make me give our baby to her again, I’ll take him and leave!” Alex’s grim voice cut through. “Daisy, don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to our baby. I’m going to create some issues with the overseas project and send her abroad to deal with it. Then you can openly bring up the baby at home.” Daisy continued to sob, pressing her face tightly against the baby, speaking in anguish. “So what? At most, she’ll be gone for six months, a few months. She’ll still come back, won’t she? Then she’ll still be able to mistreat the baby however she wants!” She clutched Alex’s arm tightly, crying piteously. “Alex, this is your only child! You can’t just watch that evil woman harm him, can you?” Alex didn’t speak for a long time. Then, a sinister glint flashed in his eyes, and he slowly said, “Daisy, just give me a little more time. I’ll make Nancy leave with nothing. Then we’ll be a complete family.” The car arrived at the hospital. I couldn’t bear to watch their affectionate display any longer and clicked stop. “Dad, since he’s heartless, we don’t need to be honorable either. Let’s make Alex lose his reputation and everything he has. That would truly do justice to his meticulous scheming.” With that, I transferred the hidden camera footage to my father’s and brother’s phones, allowing them to monitor Alex’s every move. Alex wouldn’t disappoint me. But the harder he schemed, the harder he would fall. Sure enough, the next day, Alex apologized, telling me there were issues with an overseas project and asking me to handle it. I pretended ignorance, quickly packed my bags, and flew abroad, giving him ample room to make his move. I leisurely dealt with the problems, watching videos of Alex and Daisy frolicking in my bed, seeing their disgraceful traces left from the living room to the bathroom, watching them laughing with their son, a happy, sweet family of three. Of course, I also saw what I wanted to see. A month later, on the Thorne Corporation’s anniversary, Dad called to inform me. “Nancy, you can come back now. All the evidence has been collected.”

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The night before my SATs, Hugh Reed’s parents died in a house fire. To help him recover, I begged my parents to fund his four years of college. After graduation, we naturally married and had a child, living a life envied by everyone around us. But he secretly bought insurance, orchestrated a fire that killed our entire family. And immediately married another woman. At my funeral, he cursed me with venom in his voice: “You swallowed my family’s fortune and kept me from being Tiffany’s first boyfriend. You deserved to die!” It turned out he had never been grateful to me. He had always hated me. I was reborn, back to the day I first heard about the fire at Hugh Reed’s house. This time, I wouldn’t help him. Hugh’s family lived right above ours, and after less than a year of renovation, our apartment was also completely gutted. Just like in my previous life, Hugh looked at me, his eyes wide with panic. “Alice, my parents are gone. What am I going to do?” A cold, visceral shudder ran through me. I clutched my chest, my breath catching in my throat. I couldn’t believe I had helped such a monster in my last life. I even suffered through a difficult pregnancy for him. “Alice…” Hugh tugged at my arm again. I snapped back to reality, looking into his bottomless eyes. I fought back the words that were desperate to escape my throat: “It’s okay, you still have me, and my parents.” Then, I slowly pulled my hand away. “I was just about to ask you the same thing. My home is gone too, and my dad’s still in the hospital. What am *I* supposed to do?” Hugh froze, his gaze filled with confusion. But before he could pry, he was immediately surrounded by other neighbors, all victims of the fire, demanding answers. “Your parents’ mess, you have to answer for it. You just turned eighteen, Hugh. You’re responsible for what they did. The entire building is a wreck. Either pay for the damages, or go to jail for him!” Hugh, terrified, dropped to his knees. “I’m so incredibly sorry, everyone. But my parents are gone. Can you please let me handle their funeral first before we address your issues? Please…” Other voices chimed in: “Let’s respect the dead. Hugh is still just a kid. His SATs are coming up. This fire wasn’t his fault. Can’t we let him go to the funeral home first?” Hugh looked at the speaker, his eyes overflowing with gratitude. But in my last life, those were *my* words. I had stepped forward, presenting myself as a fellow victim, condemning the neighbors for their selfishness and lack of empathy. I wouldn’t even let them deny Hugh the time to send his parents off. I had even begged my parents to help him arrange his parents’ funeral. While helping him claim insurance for his damaged home, I also insisted they fund his four years of college. My dad initially disagreed, so I threatened to skip my SATs and go on a hunger strike. At the same time, I gave up my spot at an Ivy League university for him, enrolling in a culinary arts program instead. “Hugh has no parents, he needs this opportunity more than I do.” “All I want is to be a good wife to him, a supportive woman behind his success.” My parents were furious, grounding me for days. I had Hugh call the police for me. After the police mediation, Hugh and I went on a trip for a few days, only returning home when our acceptance letters arrived. When I got back, I even showed them my pregnancy test results. What’s done is done. My parents looked resigned. They agreed to fund Hugh’s college education, on the condition that we got married first. Hugh cried tears of gratitude, promising my parents he would repay them someday and treat me well. “Alice, are you okay? Does Hugh need any help?” My mom was finally back. As soon as I heard her voice, I launched myself into her arms, sobbing uncontrollably. I kept repeating, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” My mom’s still-dark bangs fell forward as she bent down to comfort me. “Silly child, the fire wasn’t your fault. It’s just a shame about the apartment we just renovated. Luckily, I bought home insurance last year, and thankfully, your dad is okay. What a blessing…” “It’s just heartbreaking for Hugh. You both have your SATs coming up, and with this happening, I don’t know how he’ll cope. You two grew up together, we should help him as much as we can.” I shrieked, “Don’t help him! Please, *never* help him!” My mom looked at me, startled by my extreme reaction. She quickly felt my forehead for a fever, muttering that I must have been scared senseless. She was right. Ever since I was little, my world revolved around Hugh. I always gave him the best of everything first. Saying something like this now, my mom would never accept it. I quickly explained, “Mom, I’m so worried about Dad. Let’s go see him at the hospital first. Hugh is already eighteen, and he just said he wants to go to the funeral home to send off his parents alone. Let’s respect his wishes.”

My mom and I arrived at my dad’s hospital room. He had moderate carbon monoxide poisoning, his lips still cherry red. Seeing me crying and sniffling, a snot bubble occasionally popping from my nose, he joked weakly, “Now you know to feel bad for your old man, huh? You weren’t this upset when I broke my leg dancing.” Before my exams, I was so stressed I broke out in acne and gained weight. My dad, worried, consulted a colleague in psychology who suggested I get more exercise. But I refused to go for walks, runs, or swims with him and Mom. He got tough and paid two thousand dollars for a dance class, thinking I’d be interested if there were lots of young women dancing there. But I still wouldn’t go. The money was non-refundable, and the membership was about to expire when I was a sophomore. My dad originally wanted my mom to go, but she was always traveling for work, so he had to bite the bullet and go himself. But one day, he was having too much fun and ended up breaking his leg. Back then, I just thought he was embarrassing. I rolled my eyes and cursed him, saying he was a grown man gyrating among young women, making classmates laugh at me. He deserved that fall. Now, overwhelmed with guilt, I could only repeatedly apologize to him, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” My parents both thought I was acting strangely and began to shift their thoughts back to our burnt-out home. The atmosphere grew heavy. My mom was usually a worrier, but she was also optimistic and kind. “It’s okay, Robert. Just think of it as a few days off. You’re always rushing around the emergency room. Now you can guilt-free sleep in at the hospital.” “Don’t worry about the house either. Even though it burned down, I bought home insurance the year before last, so we can file a claim. The most important thing is that our family is safe and sound. And I hope our precious daughter, Alice, isn’t too affected by this for her SATs. It’s less than twenty days away, I really don’t want to see her repeat a year.” “As for Hugh, we’ll help him as much as we can. Regardless of whether it was his parents’ fault, they’re gone. The boy shouldn’t have to bear all this, and it shouldn’t affect his SATs either.” “He and Alice are childhood friends. If they can go to the same university, we’ll grit our teeth and help them out.” After my mom finished speaking, my dad looked troubled. “Honey, let’s not go too far. At most, we can help Hugh arrange his parents’ funeral so he can focus on his SATs.” “Anything more is a bottomless pit. Besides, his family is responsible for the fire, we’re victims too. If we don’t seek compensation and instead help them so much, what will the other affected neighbors think? We’ll be ostracized in the neighborhood. We can’t do that.” “And, after working in the emergency room for so many years, I’ve seen too many cases where good intentions backfire, making the helper liable. Like recently, a girl got sick while hiking. Another stranger in the group kindly gave her some cold medicine, but after they got down the mountain, the girl died less than an hour after being admitted to the ER. Later, the deceased girl’s parents sued the girl who gave her the medicine, and I heard she had to pay a hefty sum…” In my last life, when my dad said this, my mom hesitated. “But Hugh and Alice are childhood friends, Robert. Let me think.” But then, I had loudly demanded that my parents see their “good deed” through, threatening a hunger strike and refusing to take my SATs otherwise. Now, I picked up where my mom left off: “Mom, only good friends are called childhood sweethearts. If the relationship is just okay, they’re just regular classmates.” “I used to cling to Hugh a lot when I was little, but now he’s just a regular classmate. The most important thing for me right now is my SATs.” “Besides, Hugh already has someone else he likes at school, and it’s not me.” Hearing me say that, my parents exchanged surprised glances for a few seconds. But realizing my focus was on my SATs, they didn’t ask any more questions. My mom started making arrangements to take me to the hospital cafeteria for dinner. After eating with my dad, my mom drove me back to school. Then, she assessed the damages with the home insurance company and rented an apartment in the next neighborhood for our family to stay in temporarily.

Back at school, my teachers and classmates offered their condolences about the fire, then quickly dispersed. After all, it was a critical time right before the SATs. Every minute counted. I calmed myself down and went to the office to pick up a practice test I’d missed that morning. I started working on it. Reborn, I wasn’t going to a culinary arts program to spend every day cooking for Hugh. I wanted to go to an Ivy League university, to study subjects I was truly passionate about, to read more books, and to see a wider world. I should have done that, and I could have. Hugh returned to school a week later. With only twelve days left until the SATs, most students in the study hall were too focused to even glance at him and Tiffany Blackwood, who was sitting next to him. Tiffany was the beauty from the next class, and Hugh’s “white moonlight” – his unattainable crush. I heard she had been by his side all these days. Good, just as Hugh wished. He would soon become Tiffany’s first boyfriend. Tiffany carried a donation box to the front of the classroom, rallying everyone to donate to Hugh: “With the SATs so close, I didn’t want to bother everyone, but anyone can face hardship. Please, donate your spare change to help Hugh through this difficult time. Our Class Four has already donated. I thank Class Three on his behalf…” After Tiffany finished speaking, she pulled Hugh into a deep bow. The students looked helpless, sympathetic, or just annoyed and wanting to be left alone. They quickly pulled out cash or scanned the QR code to donate. I remained rooted to my seat, not even looking up, continuing to work on my problems. But Tiffany called me out directly: “Alice Hayes, why haven’t you donated? Aren’t you and Hugh childhood neighbors? That’s really heartless, isn’t it?” A bitter laugh escaped me, laced with pure disbelief. I looked up at Tiffany and Hugh. Hugh was staring at me with a resentful expression.

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Four months after we broke up, I called Blake. “I’m pregnant. Do you want this child?” Blake practically recoiled. “We were super careful, Skylar. Don’t try to pin this on me.” I asked again. “You’re sure you don’t want this child, right?” “I don’t.” Blake’s answer was firm. A wave of relief washed over me. Good, one less battle to fight for my child. I was on my own, raising her from day one. Until my daughter turned five. Suddenly, my ex and his best friend were practically fighting over who got to be her dad. It had been six years since I last saw Blake. Honestly, he hadn’t changed much. Still stylish, but his expression was dark, like a storm cloud. “Mom, I’m hungry!” Lily rubbed her tummy. I turned and headed into the kitchen to prepare her some oatmeal. Blake remained frozen in the doorway. Lily finished a big bowl, then turned to look at Blake, letting out a dramatic sigh. “Mom, you two should probably talk it out. I need to do my homework.” She picked up her small backpack. “But just so we’re clear, my custody is non-negotiable.” Those three words – “custody is non-negotiable” – finally hit a raw nerve with Blake. He glared at me, seething. “Skylar, you secretly had my child!” I glanced back at Lily’s closed bedroom door. My daughter was mature for her age, but some things weren’t meant for her ears. Worried the house wasn’t soundproof enough, I simply stepped outside, leading Blake to the stairwell. “Skylar, don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to. Are you trying to get your hands on my family’s fortune by having a child, hoping for a piece of the pie?” Blake sneered. “I’m telling you, it’s not that easy!” I pulled out my phone and played a recording I’d saved for six years. “I’m pregnant. Do you want this child?” “We were super careful, Skylar. Don’t try to pin this on me.” “You’re sure you don’t want this child, right?” “I don’t.” Once it finished, afraid Blake hadn’t heard clearly, I replayed it. He froze, like someone had suddenly cut his mic, his accusatory tone dying in his throat. “I knew this day would come, so I kept my receipts.” I crossed my arms, giving Blake a critical once-over. “Your parents still haven’t made you the heir after all these years. Guess they know you’re not exactly leadership material. You think you have a shot at custody? Please. You’re not even in my league.” Blake slammed his fist against the wall in frustration. I patted Blake’s shoulder. “Just a warning: stay away from my daughter from now on. Otherwise, don’t blame me for calling the cops and reporting you for trying to snatch my kid.” “Why not? I’m her dad!” “Oh? Proof?” “I can do a DNA test!” I looked at him with pity. “Without a court order, a private DNA test means nothing legally.”

Blake left, dragging his feet, clearly furious but with no choice. That evening at dinner, Lily kept sighing dramatically. “Mom, why weren’t you more careful when you picked my dad?” she grumbled. “Were you just blinded by his looks?” “I was too young back then.” I seriously reflected on my past choices. “Will he keep bothering me?” “Hard to say,” I thought for a moment. “He definitely didn’t want kids back then, but what if he’s changed his mind now that he’s older? But how did you even run into Blake?” “I saw him talking to our principal after school today.” Lily didn’t even look up. “I guess they know each other?” The next day, after dropping Lily off at school, I drove to my shop. A few years ago, when Lily was little, I ran a custom baking business from home to make it easier to care for her. Once she got a little older, and I happened to win a decent international baking award, I decided to open this dessert shop. Business has been pretty good these past two years, and I have a stable customer base. I’ve been thinking about opening a second branch. Soon after I arrived at the shop, a middle-aged woman walked in, saying she wanted to order a five-tier birthday cake. “Of course,” I said with a smile, sitting down with her to discuss the details. She wore an elegant green dress and had a very kind smile. Suddenly, the woman asked me, “Are you married?” I smiled and said, “No.” She then asked, “Do you have a boyfriend?” I shook my head again. Then the middle-aged woman beamed. “I’m Mrs. Davies, Blake’s mom! Blake’s single now, too! Would you consider him again?” As soon as she finished speaking, she eagerly pulled out a bracelet and tried to put it on my wrist. Mrs. Davies was incredibly sweet the whole time. She probably worried I’d misunderstand her intentions, so she proactively explained that she just wanted to get close to Lily. “It must be hard for you, raising a child alone. I just want to help.” I wasn’t naive enough to believe Mrs. Davies was as good as she appeared. She was a powerful businesswoman, a force to be reckoned with. The Davies family must have already done a private DNA test and confirmed Lily was Blake’s biological daughter. They had also consulted lawyers, and the chances of winning a custody battle were very low. So they had to settle for a compromise: they wanted joint custody. “Mrs. Davies, I respect my daughter’s feelings,” I said with a smile. “As long as Lily is willing to get close to you all, I won’t object.” Mrs. Davies excitedly said, “Then I’ll arrange a dinner party right away!” I told her I needed to talk to Lily first, respect her feelings. After exchanging contact info, Mrs. Davies smiled brightly and made a call. “Come in. Apologize to Ms. Skylar properly, and thank her too.” Then I saw Blake walk in, looking awkward. He must have been waiting in the car, ready on standby. When he saw me, a flash of smugness crossed his face.

Near dismissal time, I finished up my work and planned to pick Lily up. Blake lingered, saying he wanted to see Lily too. “You should probably lay low around Lily for now.” I told him honestly. “You need to give her some time to process things.” To process that her dad was a handsome but ultimately brainless guy. “Why?” Blake looked genuinely hurt. “I’m tall, handsome, and rich. What could Lily possibly be unhappy about with me?” “Lily prioritizes a man’s inner qualities.” “Skylar, what do you mean by that?” Blake exploded instantly. “Clarify that! You were the one who pursued me first back then!” “Yeah, and now I’m using that life lesson to teach my daughter not to only look at a man’s face, aren’t I?” I hit the gas, not bothering to say another word to Blake. During school dismissal, the school gates were an absolute madhouse. I parked my car in the lot and walked over. Lily was just walking out with her backpack, chatting happily with a classmate. She saw me from a distance and excitedly waved. “Mom! Did the teacher tell you? We have a parent-teacher conference next week!” “Yeah, I saw the announcement in the group chat.” I scooped Lily up in my arms and walked towards the parking lot. She wrapped her arms around my neck, swinging her little legs and humming a happy tune. She was ecstatic! I briefly told Lily about the Davies family’s visit. She tilted her head, thought for a moment, then said, “It’s just dinner, right? Let’s go.” A car horn blared behind us. I quickly pulled Lily closer to the curb. The car drove out from inside the school grounds. The back window was halfway down, and I only caught a glimpse of a young man sitting there. “Mom, that’s our principal! The one I told you was talking to my biological dad before.” “Really?” I was a bit surprised and subconsciously looked again, but I couldn’t get a clear look at the man’s face. Since Lily agreed to meet the Davies family, I didn’t deliberately delay and set the time for the weekend. The location was the Davies’ home. They said it was so Lily could get familiar with the house and feel free to come over and play anytime. Blake and I had dated for a very short time, and we never got to the point of meeting each other’s parents, so this was my first time visiting the Davies’ home. An exclusive gated community, a massive villa spanning over two thousand square feet. But Lily was only six. While she already had a sense of money, in her eyes, this villa was no different from the house back in our old town. She even grumbled that the backyard wasn’t big enough for a proper treehouse, let alone a trampoline. “Lily, hello, I’m Grandpa.” “Sweetheart, I’m Grandma.” Blake’s parents smiled very kindly. Lily wasn’t shy; she greeted them confidently. “Hello, Grandpa and Grandma.” “Oh, you sweet thing, you’re absolutely adorable! Here, these are from Grandpa and Grandma, a little welcome gift.” Gold bracelets, a gold necklace, a diamond tiara, and a wad of cash – they had it all. Lily sweetly thanked Grandpa and Grandma, then said she was afraid of losing them, and handed everything to me. She even specifically reminded me, “Mom, keep them safe for me, okay? They’re precious, because they’re from Grandpa and Grandma’s love!” I knew she just thought they were heavy and a bit much to wear. “Son, I’ve raised you for thirty years, and you finally did something right!” Mrs. Davies dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief, telling Blake, “Thank goodness you brought a child into the Davies family. Otherwise, I swear, I never wanted to see you step foot in this house again!” Blake slumped alone on the single sofa, a protest forming on his lips but dying before it could escape. He had dressed up meticulously for the occasion – meticulously styled hair, earrings, necklace, rings – the whole nine yards. But Lily usually hangs out with the retirees in our neighborhood, so her fashion sense is, shall we say, a little old-school. She looked at Blake with clear disdain.

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On a New Year’s Day, Mom held my hand and led me out of the orphanage. At that time, I was five years old. She said from now on, my birthday would be January 1st. “Every year, we’ll celebrate your birthday with you and help you make one birthday wish come true.” I nodded hard. Back then, I didn’t understand that every wish I made, Mom would take something from me. At six, I wished to see fireworks, and my bone marrow was taken. At seven, I wished for a doll, and a kidney was removed. At eight, I wished for cake, and a lobe of my liver was cut out. This year, I was ten. Mom looked at me gently in the candlelight. “Willow, make a wish.” In the flickering candlelight, I closed my eyes. My only wish this year was that Mom wouldn’t take anything else from me. … Outside the window, fireworks sparkled in Mom’s gentle eyes. She softly asked, “What did you wish for this year, Willow?” I looked into her eyes, where I saw the warmth I had longed for all year. I carefully leaned closer and whispered, “I wished that you would love me forever, Mom.” Mom’s expression froze for a second. Then, she opened her arms and pulled me into a tight embrace. The hug was so tight I could barely breathe. She smelled faintly of perfume. My cheek pressed against her soft sweater, and my eyes immediately welled up. “Silly child,” Mom’s voice came from above my head, with a hint of a laugh. “Of course I love you. As long as you’re good, as long as Ava can live, I’ll love you forever.” I nodded vigorously, my tears soaking into her sweater. Mom only hugged me on my birthday when I made a wish, so this was the hug I had waited an entire year for. I reached out my thin arms, wanting to hug her back, but Mom pulled away first. She cupped my face in her hands, her thumb wiping away my tears. “You’re such a sensible girl. So, I’ll grant your wish, and you grant mine, okay? Just help Ava one more time, sweetie.” I nodded. It was always like this. I was used to it. “Ava’s heart is getting worse,” Mom’s voice remained gentle. “The doctor said she needs a healthy heart. Are you willing to give your heart to her?” “Tomorrow, Mom will take you to the hospital for a compatibility test. If it’s a match, Ava can live. Willow wants Ava to live, too, right?” I looked into her expectant eyes, at the gentle smile on her lips. “Okay,” I said. Mom’s smile instantly brightened. She hugged me again, this time quickly and lightly. “I knew Willow was the best girl.” As she stood up to cut the cake, the living room door suddenly burst open. Ava, my older sister, walked in, bundled in a thick winter coat. Her cheeks were red from the cold wind, but her eyes sparkled brightly. “Mom! The countdown event has started at the plaza! Elara said she can take us to the front to watch the fireworks show!” Mom immediately put down the cake knife and went to Ava, brushing the snowflakes off her shoulder. “Slow down, sweetie, don’t choke on the cold air. It’s so cold outside; how about we go after your surgery?” “But I want to go!” Ava tugged on Mom’s hand, whining playfully. “It’s only once a year! And the doctor said I’m stable right now…” Mom glanced at me, then back at Ava’s eagerly anticipating face. The glance was so brief, I couldn’t read the emotion in it. “Alright, alright, but just for a little while. You can’t get tired.” Mom’s tone held a pampering affection I’d never heard before. Then she turned to me. “Willow, you have your compatibility test at the hospital tomorrow. Get some rest tonight, so you won’t go.” I opened my mouth, wanting to say I wanted to see the fireworks too, a real fireworks display. Mom had promised me when I was six; I still remembered her smiling and saying, “Of course, after you help your sister, Mom will take you.” But after I donated my bone marrow on the operating table, Mom just patted my head and said, “We’ll see the fireworks next time; Ava can’t wait.” But the words caught in my throat, and I swallowed them back down. Mom was already leading Ava to the door, without looking back. “Willow, don’t eat anything after the cake. You need to fast tomorrow.” The door closed.

I stood there, still holding the piece of cake Mom had given me earlier. The living room fell silent, save for the noisy New Year’s Eve special on TV. The host was excitedly counting down: “Ten more minutes! The New Year is almost here!” I carried my cake and slowly walked back to my small room. The storage room had no windows. I sat on my little bed, eating the cake in tiny bites. It was sweet. Bitterly sweet. I suddenly remembered that night when I was seven, after the kidney transplant surgery. The anesthetic had worn off, and the wound burned like fire. I cried for Mom. A nurse came in, looked at me, and said Mom was in Ava’s room because Ava had a nightmare. That night, I counted the cracks in the ceiling. When I reached three hundred twenty-seven, the sky turned light. At eight, after the liver surgery, I vomited until I was dizzy. Mom came into the room for a quick look, frowning as she told the nurse, “Why is her reaction so strong? It won’t affect the liver’s quality, will it?” She didn’t ask if I was in pain. She didn’t ask if I was scared. She only cared about the organ that was no longer in my body, whether *it* was okay. The cake was quickly finished, but a sharper emptiness and pain gnawed at my stomach. Since that afternoon, I had only eaten this small piece of cake. Mom said I needed to fast, but no one told me fasting would be this unbearable. The old scars on my abdomen began to throb faintly. Ever since my kidney was removed, I’d been in pain every night, unable to sleep. The living room lights were already dim. Elara had probably gone to her room to rest after tidying up the kitchen. The entire house was quiet, except for the rumbling in my stomach and the scattered firecrackers celebrating the New Year in the distance. I held back for as long as I could, but eventually, I gently pushed open the storage room door. There had to be something to eat in the kitchen, even just a slice of bread. There was a bowl of soup in the fridge that looked delicious. I swallowed hard. “Willow?” Elara’s voice came from behind me. I jumped in fright, nearly dropping the bowl. “Are you hungry?” Elara walked over, looked at me, and her face showed a troubled expression. “But Mrs. Celeste specifically instructed that you need to have blood drawn tomorrow and must fast…” “Just one sip of soup,” I pleaded softly. My stomach let out another loud rumble. “Elara, I’m so hungry, my stomach hurts…” Elara hesitated. She looked at the clock on the wall, then at my pale little face and the hand clutching my stomach. Finally, she sighed. “Just a tiny sip, truly, only a tiny sip. Otherwise, if Mrs. Celeste finds out, I’ll be in trouble.” She took the bowl of soup from the fridge, poured a small spoonful into a cup, and heated it in the microwave. During those few seconds, a rich aroma wafted out. My stomach felt clutched by an invisible hand, and the pain made me bend over. “Here, drink slowly.” The moment the warm soup flowed down my throat, I almost burst into tears. I was so hungry, every warm sip felt like salvation. I held the cup, sipping in small gulps, afraid of drinking too fast and running out. Just then, the sound of keys turning came from the entryway. Dad and Mom were back with Ava. Ava was cradled in Dad’s arms, her little face buried in his shoulder, breathing steadily. Mom followed behind, carrying Ava’s small backpack. When they saw me standing in the kitchen, holding the cup, their smiles instantly froze. “Willow? Didn’t I tell you to fast?” Mom rushed over in a few steps, snatching the cup from my hand. Ava woke up with the commotion. She opened her eyes, saw Mom’s furious face, and instinctively shrank further into Dad’s embrace. “Mom…” I looked at her, tears uncontrollably welling up. “I’m really hungry, my stomach hurts so bad…” I pointed to the side of my abdomen where my kidney was missing. It was throbbing with pain from hunger and cold. “Why are you in pain? You’re doing this on purpose! Are you deliberately eating because you don’t want to donate your heart to Ava?” “No, Mom, I’m really hungry…” I cried out, trying to pull on her sleeve. Dad frowned, carrying Ava and turning to walk towards the master bedroom. “Celeste, put Ava to bed first. Don’t scare the child.” Mom’s finger almost poked my nose. “Willow, didn’t I tell you that as long as you’re good, I’ll love you? Didn’t you promise you’d give your heart to Ava?” “I promised, I promised, Mom, please don’t yell at me, don’t abandon me…” I cried, gasping for air. “You’re a liar! You just don’t want to save Ava! I raised you for nothing!” She grabbed my arm, her grip so strong it felt like she was crushing my bones, and dragged me towards the storage room. A familiar fear washed over me like a tide. She was going to abandon me, just like the auntie at the orphanage said back then, disobedient children eventually get thrown away. Mom shoved me roughly into the storage room. I stumbled and fell to the floor, the pain piercing. “You selfish ingrate, stay here and reflect!” The storage room door slammed shut, and the familiar darkness enveloped me.

I curled up in the cold corner, my stomach aching with emptiness. Hunger gnawed at me from the inside, making me shiver and tremble. What was worse was the itch. I couldn’t help but scratch, my nails leaving red marks on my skin. But the more I scratched, the more it itched, an unbearable itch that made me want to roll on the floor. “Don’t be hungry anymore, Mom doesn’t want me anymore…” I mumbled, digging my fingers hard into my skin. “A heart transplant will fix it… If I scratch it clean, Mom will come back…” My nails broke the skin, and warm liquid oozed out. The pain finally overshadowed the itching. Darkness stole my vision, but it made my other senses incredibly sharp. I could hear my own heavy breathing, and I could smell the sweet scent of dumplings in the air. It was New Year’s Day; every family must be eating dumplings. I wished I could eat some too. My consciousness gradually blurred, and I saw that woman again. On a snowy night, she wore a thin coat, holding a child tightly bundled in her arms. I couldn’t clearly see her face, only remembered that she kept crying, her shoulders shaking violently. She placed the child on the cold steps and turned to leave. “Mommy… Mommy…” The child cried out, stretching out tiny hands. That was me. One or two years old. The woman paused for a moment but didn’t look back. Snowflakes fell on her head, quickly turning her into a white shadow. “Mommy, take me with you, I’ll be good!” “Don’t leave me… please… don’t leave me…” I cried and chased after her, but her back grew smaller and smaller, finally disappearing into the wind and snow at the street corner. I knelt in the snow, crying until my throat was hoarse, crying until my whole body was stiff. Until an auntie from the orphanage came out, dragged me back like garbage, and threw me into that small, windowless dark room. “What are you crying for? Your mom doesn’t want you! Crying won’t help!” The sound of the lock clicking, exactly like tonight. “No… Mom… don’t abandon me…” I woke up sobbing in my dream, my face wet, unable to tell if it was cold sweat or tears. It was morning. I struggled to get up. The scratched wounds had formed thin scabs, tearing with every movement, a ripping pain. I leaned against the wall, slowly shuffling to the door, and gently pushed it open a crack. The living room lights were on, and a large plate of white, plump dumplings sat on the dining table. Ava sat in her special high-backed chair, a few dumplings in a small bowl in front of her. Mom was picking one up, carefully blowing on it to cool it, and putting it to Ava’s mouth. “Here, Ava, open up. These are lucky dumplings. Eat them for a safe and healthy New Year.” Ava obediently opened her mouth, took a bite, and a satisfied smile appeared on her face. “Delicious!” “If it’s delicious, eat more.” Dad sat next to her, smiling as he poured Ava a glass of warm milk. “It’s New Year’s Day today, our Ava needs to eat plenty of fortune.” My gaze was fixed on that plate of dumplings. Hungry, so hungry, I saw black spots before my eyes. I forgot the pain, forgot last night’s punishment, my eyes saw nothing but food. “Willow?” Dad saw me first, pausing in surprise. Mom and Ava also turned their heads. But at that moment, I couldn’t care about anything else. All my attention was on the dumpling that had fallen out of Ava’s bowl. Before my fingertips could even touch it, Ava, trying to protect her bowl, accidentally bumped my hand with her arm. Already weak, I toppled over from her touch, crashing into the dining table and making a mess. Then, Ava burst into tears, “Wah!” Her eyes instantly flooded. “My dumplings… my lucky dumplings… they’re gone…” Mom’s face turned ashen. She abruptly stood up, and a heavy slap landed on my face. My head snapped to the side, my ears rang, and half my face was numb with a burning sensation. “Willow, are you doing this on purpose? You can’t stand to see Ava doing well, can you? You even try to snatch Ava’s lucky dumplings?” I cried, shaking my head, my insides clenching with fear. “I’m so hungry, I want to save Ava, I’ll give my heart to Ava, just let me eat something…” Mom suddenly let out a cold laugh, grabbing me and dragging me towards the door. “Then let’s go to the hospital right now, get the surgery done early! So you won’t be an eyesore at home, always thinking about harming Ava!” The cold morning wind cut like a knife across my face. Dressed in my thin pajamas, I was shoved into the car by Mom. The car drove towards the hospital. I was led into a bright room. The doctor, wearing a white coat, looked at me, covered in scratches, and frowned deeply. “Mr. Marcus, Mrs. Celeste, this child looks at most ten years old, and her body is severely depleted. Do you really want to do a heart compatibility test now?” “Is the child willing? Have you asked for the child’s opinion?” Mom’s face was full of anger. “She’s willing.” I found strength from somewhere and dropped to my knees before Mom, tears streaming down my face. “Dad, Mom, I want to eat lucky dumplings, I want Mom to call me sweetie, I want Mom to love me.” “I want to live past this year too.”

I cried, trembling uncontrollably, almost suffocating. The hospital room instantly fell silent. Ava, startled by me, shrank into Mom’s arms, coughing violently. “Mom! Does she not want to give me her heart anymore?” “It’s all because of her! Ever since she came to our house, I’ve been sick, always having surgery. Did she pass her bad luck onto me?” “Oh, and she stole my lucky dumplings this year, and now she wants to steal my Dad and Mom too!” Steal? I abruptly looked up, screaming as if I’d lost my mind, tears mixing with the bloodstains on my face. “Then who took what was drawn from my spine, who took my kidney, who took my liver from my belly!” “My body, my organs, my life, aren’t they worth anything? Ever since I came here, I’ve been losing things, always in pain. I never took anything, I gave you everything!” Another slap, heavier and crueler than before. This time it was Dad. His big hand roughly grabbed my hair, yanking me up from the floor. “Willow, your wretched life, from the day you were abandoned at the orphanage entrance, it was worthless!” “A worthless thing abandoned by her own parents, a good-for-nothing who would eventually starve, freeze, or fall ill and die in an orphanage! Our family took pity on you, pulled you out of that awful place! We gave you food, we gave you clothes!” “From the day we brought you home, your existence was solely for Ava to live! Now Ava needs your heart, this is your fate, what you owe our family!” I lay on the ground, my blood frozen. So that’s how it was. Just because I owed them. Then I’ll pay them back. I smiled faintly, slowly pushed myself up, and stood shakily. “Doctor, I voluntarily agree to the surgery. Can we do it now?” Dad grunted. “It’s about time. Stop stalling and delaying Ava’s condition!” I entered the operating room. Anesthetic slowly spread from the vein on the back of my hand, flowing through my limbs. The doctor was making the final preparations. I strained to turn my head, looking at the small observation window of the operating room. Behind the window glass, two shadowy figures stood. It was Dad and Mom. They stood side by side, their gaze fixed on Ava, who was on another operating table beside me. Mom pressed her hands together under her chin, as if praying, Dad’s arm was around her shoulder, his lips pressed thin. From beginning to end, they never looked at me. Not even once. The anesthetic’s potency grew stronger, and my consciousness began to blur. The last thing I saw was Mom leaning close to the observation window, nodding vigorously at the doctor inside, her lips seeming to form the words: “Please, save her.” Then she turned and walked with Dad towards Ava’s observation room next door. Their backs, and the retreating shadow from that snowy night in my memory, completely overlapped at that moment. I closed my eyes, letting the darkness completely envelop me. Mom, Dad. Everything you wanted, I’ve given back to you. My bone marrow, my kidney, my liver, and this heart. This time, we’re finally even. I don’t owe you anything anymore. I don’t know how much time passed, but the door opened again. Outside the operating room, Dad and Mom rushed over as soon as the chief surgeon emerged. The surgeon nodded. “The surgery was very successful, with almost no rejection.” “This situation is extremely rare in non-blood-related transplants; usually, only direct blood relatives have such perfect tissue compatibility.” The air suddenly froze. Dad’s voice was hoarse as he spoke. “Direct blood relatives?”

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Seven years into our marriage, the media dug up my singer husband Jax’s private Instagram account. It was a digital shrine to his love life, filled with daily updates. “My wife looked so cute in her pink sweater today!” “Wrote her a new song. She loves it!” “Gave her a pink diamond ring. Her smile lights up my world. My girl gets everything she desires!” “Second day post-concert…missing her already.” Tabloids had a field day: “Notoriously Arrogant Singer Is a Total Simp in Private!” My best friend Chloe forwarded the articles, gushing, “You’re so lucky! He’s obsessed with you!” A bitter laugh escaped me. I don’t own a single pink sweater. And that breathtaking pink diamond? Never seen it. I hated pink. I did wear pink once. A long time ago. It was during my pursuit of Jax. Everyone said he liked innocent, girly types. So I bought a pink dress for our Christmas meet-up, burying my own dislike for the color. That night, a heavy snow fell. I waited outside his studio, freezing. Half an hour late, Jax finally showed up. He took one look at me and smirked. “Rowan, you look like a pink pig.” Laughter erupted around him. I fled, the heat of humiliation searing through the winter chill. After that, I never wore pink again. My phone buzzed with Chloe’s awkward attempt to smooth things over. “Don’t overthink it, Rowan.” “Maybe he says he dislikes it, but secretly loves it.” “We all know what kind of guy Jax is.” She was right. In college, Jax was infamous for his sharp tongue and icy glare. My roommate put it best. “He’s gorgeous, but it’s a shame he ever opens his mouth.” He tore into every girl who liked him. Except me. He mocked my clothes, my food, my mere existence beside him. Yet, at a class reunion, when I sat hidden in a corner, it was him who coolly beckoned me over. “Hey, come sit here.” Later, he became a superstar. At his first sold-out concert, he sang an entire love song, his gaze fixed squarely in my direction. Then the camera found him. His face, impossibly handsome and utterly serious, filled the screen. “Everyone, meet the leading lady of my life.” Lights flashed. The crowd screamed. And through it all, he was smiling at me. Backstage, Jax’s manager tore into him. “Are you trying to throw away your career? Your fans?” Leaning against the wall, Jax just smiled. “You don’t get it. My girlfriend’s the dramatic type. If I didn’t make a big show of it, she’d have made a scene later.” The fallout was real. His career stalled for years. It only revived last year, when a new song swept the awards. However, the person who presented him with the award was a friend who used to be far less successful than him. That guy had dumped his girlfriend of ten years for his career, then shot to stardom. So, a reporter asked Jax if he regretted his public declaration back then. “No regrets.” Jax showed off the necklace on his collarbone to the camera. It was a birthday gift I’d bought him after delivering takeout for five months straight. He once said that necklace was more precious than any trophy. But in his latest faceless selfie from his private account. The necklace on his neck had been replaced with a pink Hello Kitty cartoon pendant. He used to say that thing was too childish. Yet now. He practically gloated. “Got matching necklaces with my wife!”

I sat in the living room all night. Scrolling through his private Ins posts, over and over again. He said her desserts were delicious. Meanwhile, the cake I’d spent all morning baking for him, he just glanced at it before tossing it into the trash right in front of me. He praised her as lively, outgoing, and good at socializing. But if I so much as talked to someone for a few minutes, he’d sneer, “Gotta make everything about you, huh?” He meticulously prepared gifts for her, for their first day, first week, first month together. A man known for his impatience would spend an entire day at a crafting table. “Just thinking about my wife’s face when she gets the gift makes me happy! Her eyes all sparkly and cute, she’s adorable!” Today was my thirtieth birthday. Jax hadn’t even come home. I waited for him until midnight, then finally couldn’t resist calling him. It took a long time for him to answer. The music was blasting on his end, loud enough to burst eardrums, and the laughter of men and women was a chaotic mix. “I told you I’m busy, can you please stop bothering me?!” “Huh? It’s your birthday today?” “…I forgot.” I silently opened his private account. Ten minutes ago, he’d posted. “Don’t want to go home.” Jax finally came home when it was almost dawn. The sound of the door opening. A mix of alcohol and heavy perfume hit me. Then I saw him, leaning against the doorframe. He was typing on his phone. Noticing the living room light, he glanced at me, then lowered his head back to his screen. “Not asleep yet?” “No.” Jax replied with an indifferent “Oh,” still focused on his phone. The person on the other end must have said something funny, as he instinctively flashed a helpless smile. I just sat on the couch, watching him quietly. After about three to five minutes, Jax finally realized I hadn’t left. He put away his phone, rubbed his nose, and frowned, looking up at me. “Still not going to bed?” “I…” “Perfect.” He cut me off, sat down next to me, and naturally ordered, “Go make me some tea.” To protect Jax’s voice, I’d specifically learned to make many different kinds of herbal tea. Jax always said they tasted awful, but he’d still drink them, frowning all the while. But not this time. I brought him the tea, he took a sip, then immediately poured the entire cup into a potted plant. “Ugh, your cooking is really getting worse.” The burn blister on my finger throbbed with a searing pain. I kept my head down, not saying a word. Then I remembered what he’d written on his private account. “My wife burned dinner today, but I still ate it all up!” Suddenly, I found it all incredibly tedious. “I’m going back to my room.” “Hey!” Jax called out from behind me. I turned around. A palm-sized box hit my chest. I instinctively gasped. He frowned, a little annoyed, then turned his head away. “Happy Birthday.” Inside the box was the same cartoon pendant he wore. A goofy-looking plush bear, grinning widely.

“See? I told you that person on his private account was you.” Chloe came to see me the next day. She saw the pendant and confidently tried to reassure me. “If Jax really didn’t like you, why would he stay with you for so many years? Look at his staff, there isn’t a single woman among them.” I couldn’t argue. But a woman’s intuition always told me something was off. Like that childish and exaggerated cartoon pendant hanging on a silk pajama shirt. It just didn’t fit, no matter how I looked at it. Chloe sighed, seeing my expression. “How about this? You call him right now? No, that’s not a good idea.” I almost instinctively refused. Jax absolutely hated me checking up on him. There were times when I’d been uneasy and called him a few times before. Every time, it ended in a huge fight. He’d say I didn’t trust him, that I was bothering his work. Once, he even smashed a glass in front of a whole room of people and called me crazy. Chloe held her phone up to me. On the screen was one of Jax’s posts. “My wife is checking up on me again! ” “Such a silly girl, she just doesn’t believe I love her.” “But I really love how she gets all flustered and overthinks for me.” “Praying my wife checks up on me every single day.” The comment section was filled with “OMG, my heart!” I hesitated, then took the phone and dialed Jax’s number. It rang once and was immediately picked up. Jax’s tone wasn’t exactly warm, but he didn’t hang up immediately when I asked what he was doing. “Playing tennis with Liam, my assistant.” The sound of a tennis ball hitting the ground echoed from the other end of the line. Jax loved sports; he always set aside two or three days a week to play. Liam, his assistant, was someone I knew. A recent college graduate, with a clean background and a normal orientation. I awkwardly said, “Oh.” Jax’s sneer came through the phone. “Still don’t trust me? Why don’t you come see for yourself?” I quickly declined. “No, that’s okay.” My tennis skills weren’t great, and Jax played super aggressively, no holds barred. He’d absolutely crushed me with his serves a few times on the court. So I wasn’t eager to join in the fun. Jax gave a cold laugh on the other end. “Oh, by the way, I won’t be home tonight.” My concern for him was almost instinctive. “Is Liam with you?” Jax mumbled evasively. “Then tell Liam to be careful, your throat needs to drink…” “Alright. I need to play now.” Jax impatiently hung up before I could finish. Chloe looked at me, quite amused. “Happy now? Even if Jax did cheat, it wouldn’t be with Liam.” I forced a smile. Something still didn’t add up. I attributed it to worrying about Jax being away. After all, Jax, the big shot, always focused on his art and ignored practical matters, so all the household chores fell to me. I washed his underwear and socks, cooked him three meals a day. During the most exhausting times, I’d work two jobs a day and still come home to clean up his takeout containers left on the dining table. Chloe even joked that I was practically his mother. But when you love someone, you inevitably give more. I wrote a long list of instructions and sent them to Liam. Thinking he was with Jax playing tennis, I specifically added. “No rush, you can read it after you finish playing.” Liam’s call came through the next second. “Didn’t Jax tell you? I quit being his assistant two years ago.”

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My husband, Julian Thorne, was an artist. I took a portrait he had painted of me to a studio for restoration. A staff member pointed to a patch of chipped paint. “There appears to be another painting beneath.” After special processing, a hidden nude was revealed. The room gasped in amazement. Even as an amateur, I could feel the intense passion burning from the canvas. It was just a shame the woman in the artwork wasn’t me. With trembling fingers, I took a photo and sent it to Julian. “Who is she?” “Just come home. I’ll explain everything when you get here.” I walked into our bedroom in a daze and sank onto the edge of the bed. The pale outline on the wall, where his painting once hung, was a stark accusation. For five years, a nude of another woman had hung in our bedroom. And Julian had done it on purpose? The front door opened, followed by hurried footsteps. I turned to Julian. He looked flustered. “Alexa, I should have told you sooner. Many art students reuse canvases this way.” “This was just an old practice piece. It was thoughtless. I’m sorry.” So, art students typically paint over their fiancée’s portrait with another woman’s nude? Seeing I was still upset, he knelt before me, cupped my face, and gently kissed my forehead. “Don’t overthink this. What we have right now is the best arrangement.” Looking into his earnest eyes, I didn’t want to jeopardize our relationship over baseless suspicions. So, I said no more. But the next day, a gnawing unease still lingered. Our marriage was always one of convenience. I knew only that he had studied art at the academy. After taking over Thorne Corporation, he’d given up painting. He was loving after our marriage, and I never questioned anything more. But this painting stirred too many unsettling thoughts. I couldn’t shake the feeling of an undeniable, tangled connection between them. Instead of guessing, I needed answers. I sent the picture of the nude model I’d taken yesterday to a friend from the art academy. “She used to be a model at our school.” I breathed a small sigh of relief. Then, he added, his voice dropping. “Since you asked, I’ll just say it. “She was also your husband’s girlfriend back then.” My mind went completely blank! Julian had hung his ex-girlfriend’s portrait in our bedroom for five whole years! I couldn’t make out what else he was saying. Mechanically, I hung up the phone. Then, with trembling hands, I messaged Julian: “Something’s come up. Come home.” As soon as I arrived home, Mrs. Jenkins, the housekeeper, handed me a package. “It had Mr. Thorne’s phone number on it, so I signed for it. “But the name on it read, ‘Julian’s Seraphina.’” Julian’s Seraphina? Julian loves Seraphina Blake? My scalp tingled with dread! They were still together?! I held my breath, slowly opening this Pandora’s Box. What I found inside sent a shiver of disgust down my spine. It was a set of truly provocative, sexy lingerie! I thought of Julian’s perfectly composed demeanor, his image as the ideal gentleman. Anger, humiliation, surged through my chest!

I searched online for a private investigator, frantic. I had to know what he’d done behind my back. “Julian Thorne?” the voice on the other end chuckled. “Too hot to handle! “And your family, the Vances? Also way too hot to handle. I’ll give you an address. Consider it…an apology gift.” Even he knew? I desperately wanted to throw that lingerie in Julian’s face and confront him! But reason told me he’d have a hundred excuses. I decided to go to that address and see for myself first. I had just disposed of the lingerie. Julian appeared in the doorway. “Alexa, what’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?” I turned my back to him, pouring tea, so he wouldn’t see the fury on my face. “Nothing. It’s handled.” He let out a sigh of relief, then asked, “Mrs. Jenkins mentioned a strange package?” My grip on the teacup tightened. “Seraphina? Never heard of them. Must’ve been a mistake, so I just tossed it. Should I try to retrieve it?” He managed a weak smile. “No, that’s alright.” That night, he held me from behind. His hand stroked my skin, his breathing turning urgent. But I kept staring at the pale outline on the wall. Images flashed- the model, the nudes, the lingerie… “I’m tired.” Julian stilled. Then his touch withdrew, and he turned his back to me. A long silence stretched before he spoke again. “I have a business trip tomorrow. A week. Take care of yourself.” “Okay.” The next day, I timed it perfectly and drove to the address the detective had given me. At the alley entrance, I asked a lady for directions. She frowned. “Oh, those two! “They just mess around all day, running an art shop that never seems to get any business, but they don’t care. “Always all over each other, hugging and kissing, then disappearing into the back. Who knows what they’re up to. It’s scandalous!” My feet felt like they were cast in lead as I trudged deeper into the alley. From a distance, I saw Julian sitting under a tree, fiddling with his paintbrushes. His hair was loose, swaying in front of his eyes, and the top two buttons of his oversized shirt were undone. He was a completely different person from the Julian I knew. I realized, this was Julian Blake, the artist! Just as I was lost in thought, a woman emerged from the shop.

I recognized her instantly: Seraphina Blake, the nude model from the painting. Her hair was casually tied back, wearing the same white shirt, her collarbone subtly peeking out. She leaned in, whispering something into Julian’s ear. The flush on her cheeks was visible even from where I stood. Julian pulled her into his arms, looking as excited as a a stray dog. Seraphina’s collar slipped, revealing a familiar strip of lace. Then, Julian swept her into his arms and carried her into the shop. I felt the blood drain from my feet, slowly ebbing away. I don’t know how long I stood there, frozen. When I came to, I was already inside the shop. It was all Seraphina; he had filled the entire gallery with her. In the oil paintings, she was clearly a woman deeply loved. Compared to my formal, almost stiff portrait, mine looked pathetic and ridiculous. I continued further in. It was a shop with living quarters in the back. In the living room, their Polaroid photos were scattered everywhere, each with a handwritten caption. “She called him after a car accident, a fractured bone, but a rare orchid was about to bloom, and if he missed it, he’d have to wait another year.” “On their wedding anniversary, he said he hated ‘performing love,’ and he came here to be with me instead.” Before I could even swallow my tears, clear, intimate sounds drifted from the bedroom. So this was his “best arrangement”! A CEO bound by duty and convention, but also an uninhibited, wild artist. Weak-kneed, I leaned against the wall, the sounds hammering at my heart, escalating from pain to fury, then to bitter resentment. I wanted to burst through that door, rip at her hair hysterically, and demand to know why? But then what? In a lull of their passion, I heard voices. “Alexa Vance found your portrait.” “Oh? She’ll hate me.” “I made up an excuse. She’ll probably believe it. “Even if she doesn’t, she’ll just look away. That’s the nature of our…transaction.” “Giving her that painting was an impulse.” “But when she found it…I felt a thrill of revenge.” He was wrong. I had loved him. I had cared. My sincerity had been a target for his betrayal.I would not look away. Though, at this very moment, that sincerity had abruptly died. Seraphina seemed to be sobbing. “If it weren’t for me, would you have been able to accept her? You wouldn’t have been so miserable then.” “She’s a good woman, but I needed an escape for my soul.” I gave a bitter laugh in my heart. What a pair of star-crossed lovers. Julian, you greedy coward! You didn’t dare defy your father, but you had the gall to take it out on me? I left the alley and drove to his father’s estate. “Your son is cheating, and you forced him into it.” He stopped pruning a branch, his expression showing no surprise. “Oh, I wouldn’t call it ‘cheating’ exactly. This was his condition for marrying you and taking over the corporation. “That woman hiding in that little shop won’t affect you. “Julian needs an outlet when he’s under pressure, and she can take some of the burden off you. “This is a critical period for the corporation’s growth. Don’t let him get distracted, don’t bother him with these things. “Remember, our two families rise and fall together. “As the adopted daughter of the Vance family, your most important duty is to be grateful and repay that kindness. “Just pretend these little romantic dramas don’t exist. “I won’t tell Julian you were here today, either.” Just because I’m the adopted daughter of the Vance family, you think you can deceive and manipulate me like an idiot?! I clenched my fists and nodded. “I understand, Dad.”

After leaving, I immediately called my brother, Cameron. “Can you come home?” “What, is the old man finally calling me back to inherit the family fortune? “Tell him I’m making more money than him now, I’m not coming back. “But your voice… what’s wrong? Were you just crying?” Cameron had been very rebellious as a teenager, running off abroad and refusing to return. He didn’t even show up for my wedding. Dad, furious, cut off all contact with him. Outside, rumors even circulated that he was dead. “I’ve been wronged.” “I’ll be right back. Whatever you need, I’ll help you.” Seven days later, Julian returned, almost giddy with excitement. “I want to introduce you to someone. But promise me you won’t get angry, okay?” As soon as he finished speaking, Seraphina Blake casually walked through the door, a subtle smirk playing on her lips. How dare they?! Before I could react, Julian pulled me down onto the sofa, kneeling in front of me. “I know because of that painting, you might see her as a rival. “But I brought her back solely to secure investment from Maplewood Venture Capital. “Her brother knows Maplewood’s controlling stakeholder.” All of this was my plan. That mysterious controlling stakeholder was my brother. I just never expected him to bring Seraphina directly to me! “You’ve been in contact with her this whole time?” Julian clearly had his story ready. “I ran into her by chance during my business trip. “Maplewood is holding a large art exhibition here and will be looking for excellent art investment companies to inject capital into. “She told me all about it.” Seraphina seized the opportunity to walk over to me. “Alexa, for art students, these things are nothing out of the ordinary. “Me standing naked in front of him was no different to him than those plaster statues. “Please don’t misunderstand us because of that painting and jeopardize Julian’s career.” No different to him than those plaster statues. The memory from the alley flashed back. Julian composed himself and squeezed my hand. “There’s one more thing,” he said, his tone deliberate. “I need Seraphina to stay here. Too many eyes are on this project. I have to ensure perfection.” His gaze held its usual, practiced sincerity. Julian, I thought, you must be so tired from all this acting. “Of course,” I heard myself say. “The bigger picture is more important.” A swift, furtive glance passed between them. I swallowed the bitterness and told myself to treat it as exposure therapy. In the days that followed, I felt like a ghost in my own home. The brief eye contact across the dinner table, the accidental brush of shoulders on the stairwell… I saw everything. It must be so hard for you to hold back, Julian. I’ll make sure you both get exactly what you deserve.

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My husband Ryder’s younger brother died in an accident, and Ryder faked his own death and impersonated him. Just so he could sleep with his brother’s wife. After I recognized him, he coldly pushed me away. “I’m not Ryder. I’m Ronan. I know you’re sad about my elder brother’s death, but you can’t mistake me for him!” He shielded the seemingly delicate Serena, pushed me into the ice-cold river, and warned me not to harbor any foolish delusions. My five-year-old daughter cried, asking why her daddy didn’t want her, and was locked in the old barn to “reflect,” starved for three days and three nights. My daughter and I were driven out of the house and froze to death in the heavy snow. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day my husband Ryder impersonated his brother. This time, I didn’t expose him. Instead, I told his commanding officer in the military: “My husband is dead. Please strip him of his military status!” “I never expected my older brother to have such a sudden accident…” Ryder’s eyes were red, and he looked at me with a mournful expression. Watching Ronan’s body being carried in, I cried uncontrollably. He and Ryder looked exactly alike. No one suspected Ryder had swapped identities with him. After crying for a while, I wiped my tears and said, “The body can’t be kept for long. Let’s quickly send it for cremation and hold a grand funeral for my husband.” Ryder immediately nodded in agreement, even more eager than I was to destroy the evidence. I watched him move the body, noticing a thin, long scar between his thumb and forefinger. In my previous life, it was this scar that confirmed the one alive was Ryder. This time, I pretended not to see anything. Last life, Ryder and Ronan went out for disaster relief. Ronan accidentally injured the back of his head and died on the spot. Ryder, desperate to marry Serena, didn’t hesitate to abandon his position as a Major, impersonating Ronan. Outsiders couldn’t recognize Ryder’s deliberate imitation and were easily fooled. But as his wife, who lived with him day in and day out, I recognized Ryder at a glance. I frantically questioned him, asking why he was impersonating his brother and abandoning our daughter and me. Ryder, however, looked indifferent, flatly denied it, and violently pushed me away. “I know you’re sad about my older brother’s death, but you can’t mistake me for him!” I was incredulous, kept questioning him, but Ryder pushed me into the ice-cold river in the dead of winter. He stood on the bank, shielding Serena, and watched me struggle with cold indifference. “I won’t let you hurt my wife!” Serena hid behind him, calling me a worthless slut who was trying to steal her man right after my husband died. I had a high fever for three days and three nights, with only my five-year-old daughter by my side. She cried, asking Ryder why Daddy didn’t acknowledge her. Ryder, however, said she was making things up at my instigation, and immediately locked her in the old barn to “reflect.” It took me three days to crawl out of hell, and my daughter had also been starved for three days and three nights. Ryder’s mother then cursed me, calling me a whore, blaming me for her son’s death. She threw my daughter and me out of the house, not giving us a single penny. I desperately knocked on the door in the snowy night, begging Ryder to save our daughter. But only his cold voice came through: “Layla, you’re crazy to mistake me for my older brother. If you can’t face reality, stay away from me.” My daughter and I had nowhere to go. Cold and hungry in the depths of winter, we eventually froze to death on the street. Thinking of these things, a fire burned in my heart. I wished I could drag that whole family down with me. Watching Ryder eagerly send his brother’s body for cremation, I thought coldly. Since you want to be with Serena forever, I’ll grant your wish. Be Ronan for the rest of your life.

Ryder acted quickly. Before long, the body was cremated, and he returned with an urn of ashes. A funeral hall had already been set up at home, and neighbors who heard the news came to help. Seeing a perfectly healthy person reduced to a black and white photo and an urn of ashes, everyone sighed. My face was pale and haggard from the experiences of my previous life, making me truly look like a heartbroken woman whose husband had died. Ryder, meanwhile, wrapped his arm around Serena and told me, “Serena just found out she’s pregnant. It’s not good for her to be in the funeral hall; she might get sick. She doesn’t need to be here.” He carefully helped Serena sit down, his face full of tenderness. I ignored their intimate display, but Serena spoke to me. “You don’t have a man in your house. In the future, you’ll inevitably need favors from Ronan. You can’t just take advantage, can you?” Her eyes were full of greed, trying to extract benefits from me with empty promises. Ryder also chimed in, “Don’t you still have some gold bracelets and earrings? Why not give them to Serena as a subsidy?” “You’re just one woman; you don’t need such precious things.” I looked up sharply, staring intensely at him. Those were the only keepsakes my mother had saved her whole life and left to me before she passed away. How dare he! Ryder, however, felt no guilt, making his demands self-righteously. “You don’t wear jewelry when you do housework or farm work. Giving them to Serena would make good use of them.” “Also, my brother asked me to handle some things for him before he died. Give me all the money he left in the house.” I was silent for a few seconds, then covered my face and started to cry. “There’s no money left. Ryder’s money was all used up long ago, even my dowry went to him. I don’t have any money now.” Ryder said anxiously, “That’s impossible! My brother clearly said he had over five hundred dollars!” I was fearless: “He was lying, feeling embarrassed about not having money, just trying to save face.” “Ronan, your brother is gone. You’re the only man left in the family. If you don’t help me and still demand money, are you trying to kill my child and me?!” These words were naturally false, but Ryder couldn’t refute them. The neighbors around listened and looked at me with pity, urging Ryder to help his sister-in-law. Ryder’s face darkened: “My older brother said he had five hundred dollars; it absolutely can’t be wrong.” I sneered, got up, and brought out all of Ryder’s things. “Ryder only left these broken old things. I’ll burn them for him right in front of you, so you won’t have to keep thinking about them.” I dragged over a metal basin used for burning, threw Ryder’s documents and letters into it, and lit his clothes on fire too. Ryder instinctively tried to stop me, then stopped, his face black. When I threw the things he had given me into the basin, he finally couldn’t hold back. “These are all things he gave you! What do you mean by burning them all?” My voice choked: “The person is gone. These inanimate objects have no meaning left.” “Moreover, you’re pressing me so hard. The moment he died, you started asking me for money. I want to ask Ryder where he had any money left for me!” I spoke with tears and extreme sorrow, causing everyone to sigh with emotion. Ryder’s face was ashen, and he could only watch me burn all his belongings. Back in the room, my daughter Lily opened her big eyes and asked me confusedly. “Mommy, that was Daddy, why does everyone say he’s Uncle?”

My heart ached. Even my daughter knew that was Ryder, yet he never admitted it, hardening his heart against his own child. I hugged my daughter tightly, trying hard to control my tears. “Lily, sweetie, that’s not Daddy. Daddy has left us.” That day, I immediately went to the military base to see the commanding officer, handed him the death certificate to report the death, and requested that Ryder’s military status be revoked. The commander said, “I also heard about Major Ryder’s sacrifice and deeply regret it.” “You are his family, and the organization will try its best to approve any requests you have.” I didn’t hesitate, speaking the idea I had considered for a long time. “I want to find a job on the military base, just enough to support my daughter and me.” The commander was a bit surprised: “It will be very hard on the base, and you’ll have to leave home. Have you thought this through?” This was my goal. I nodded firmly. The process was quickly completed. Not only was Ryder’s military status revoked, but I was also given a pension and funeral expenses. Back home, Ryder’s mother was sitting in the yard. Seeing me come in, she spoke sharply. “The whore is back? Her man’s dead, and she’s still out gallivanting all day. My son was truly unlucky to marry a wife like you.” Lily sat on the ground, sobbing with her head down, shelling corn. Her little hands were covered in blisters, some of them broken, red and swollen. Anger flared in my heart again, and I immediately picked up my daughter. “Lily is only five! Can’t you see her hands are all broken?!” Ryder’s mother put her hands on her hips and spat viciously: “You cheap slut, you haven’t given our family a child, and you dare talk back.” “You two outsiders, you don’t work but you expect free food?” I sneered: “Since my husband is dead anyway, I’ll just leave. I won’t take advantage of your family.” Saying that, I turned to leave, but Ryder’s mother wasn’t happy. She rushed over to block me. “If you leave, who will serve Serena while she’s having our grandson? You’ve been eating and drinking for free in our house for years, don’t think you can just walk away!” Serena stood by the window, stroking her belly, looking at me with a triumphant expression. “It’s your fault for not having a son. My belly holds the Ryder family’s only child, so you better take good care of me.” Ryder put one hand on her, ordering me: “Mom is getting old, and Serena needs care. Don’t be stubborn.” I couldn’t help but scoff. When I gave birth to Lily, why didn’t he say I needed care? My water broke, and I went to the hospital by myself. No one in the family cared about me. Ryder’s mother disliked me for not having a son and was indifferent to me. Ryder was nowhere to be seen, never asking a single question. So why should I serve them! I gritted my teeth, holding Lily, and returned to the room, carefully applying ointment to her hands. As I walked out, I heard Ryder and Serena talking. “Ryder, look at Layla. If you weren’t here to replace Ronan and stay with me, she would have killed me.” Ryder’s voice was gentle. “Don’t worry, Serena. For you and our child, I will protect you for life.” “Mom is also on your side; otherwise, why would she agree to me impersonating Ronan?” I clenched my palms, my lips almost bleeding from biting them. So, the child Serena was carrying was Ryder’s. She and Ryder’s mother both knew about Ryder’s impersonation. They had been involved for much longer than I thought. Only I knew nothing, having been deceived by him all this time. Looking at Lily’s sleeping face, I comforted myself, for the sake of the child, we would soon be able to leave this place. Sure enough, two days later, I received news from the commander. He had arranged a job for me, and I could start anytime. I immediately packed my things and prepared to leave. But unexpectedly, as I stepped out the door, I came face to face with Ryder’s ashen expression. His gaze fell on the train ticket in my hand, his voice cold. “Layla, where are you going?”

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Four months after we broke up, I called Jace. “I’m pregnant. Do you want this baby?” Jace recoiled instantly. “We were super careful. Don’t try to pin this on me.” I asked again, my voice calm. “You’re sure you don’t want this child, right?” “I don’t,” Jace firmly replied. I exhaled, a wave of relief washing over me. Good. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about him trying to fight me for Luna later. I raised our daughter alone. Until she was five. Then, my ex and his best friend both started fighting to be her dad. It had been six years since I last saw Jace. Honestly, he hadn’t changed much. Still dressed fashionably, but his face looked grim. “Mom, I’m hungry!” Luna rubbed her tummy. I turned and headed into the kitchen to prepare her a bowl of oatmeal. Jace still stood frozen at the doorway. Luna finished her big bowl, then turned to Jace, letting out a heavy sigh. “Mom, maybe you two should talk? I’ve got homework to do,” she said, picking up her little backpack. “But just so you know, you can’t give away my custody rights, okay?” The words “custody rights” finally hit a nerve with Jace. He glared at me, his voice booming. “Chloe, you secretly had my child!” I glanced at Luna’s tightly shut bedroom door. My daughter was mature for her age, but some things weren’t meant for her ears. Worried the walls weren’t thick enough, I stepped out, leading Jace into the stairwell. “Chloe, don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to. Are you after my family’s money, hoping to get a piece of the pie by having a kid?” Jace scoffed. “I’m telling you, it won’t be that easy!” I pulled out my phone and played a recording I’d saved for six years. “I’m pregnant. Do you want this baby?” “We were super careful. Don’t try to pin this on me.” “You’re sure you don’t want this child, right?” “I don’t.” After it played, I feared Jace hadn’t heard, so I replayed it. He froze, his angry questions dying in his throat, like someone had just muted him. “I expected something like this, so I kept all the evidence safe and sound,” I said, crossing my arms. I gave Jace a critical once-over. “You’ve been around forever, and your parents still haven’t made you the heir. Guess they know you’re not up to it. You think you can fight me for custody? As if *you* could!” Jace, enraged, punched the wall. I patted his shoulder. “Just a warning: stay away from my daughter from now on, or I’ll call the police and report you for child abduction.” “Why? I’m her dad!” “Oh? Proof?” “I can do a paternity test!” I looked at him with pity. “You can’t just run off and do a private paternity test, Jace. It won’t stand up in court.”

Jace left, grumbling and clearly pissed off. That evening at dinner, Luna kept sighing dramatically. “Mom, why weren’t you more careful when you were looking for a dad for me?” she asked indignantly. “Were you only focused on how hot he was?” “I was young back then,” I reflected, genuinely reconsidering my past choices. “Will he keep bothering me?” “Hard to say,” I mused. “He definitely didn’t want kids before, but who knows if he’s changed his mind now that he’s older. Anyway, how did you even run into Jace?” “I saw him talking to our principal after school today,” Luna said, not looking up. “They must know each other, right?” The next day, after dropping Luna off at school, I drove to my shop. When Luna was younger, I’d been doing private baking from home to make it easier to care for her. Later, when she was a bit older and I’d won a pretty prestigious international baking award, I decided to open this dessert shop. Business had been good these past two years, with a steady stream of customers, and I was actually thinking about opening a second location. Soon after I arrived, a middle-aged woman walked in, wanting to order a five-tier birthday cake. “Of course,” I said, smiling as I sat down with her to discuss the details. She wore an elegant green dress and had a kind smile. Suddenly, she asked, “Are you married?” I smiled. “No.” Then she asked, “Do you have a boyfriend?” I shook my head again. The woman’s smile widened. “I’m Jace’s mom! Jace is single too! Why don’t you consider him again?” Before I could answer, she eagerly pulled out a bracelet and tried to put it on my wrist. Eleanor was incredibly kind throughout our conversation. She probably worried I’d misunderstand her intentions—that she was there to fight for custody—so she proactively explained that she just wanted to get close to Luna. “It must be hard raising a child alone. I just want to help you.” I wasn’t naive enough to believe Eleanor was as genuinely sweet as she appeared. She was a total corporate shark. The Sterling family must have already done a private paternity test, confirming Luna was Jace’s biological daughter. They’d likely consulted lawyers and realized their chances of winning a custody battle were slim to none. So, they had no choice but to push for shared custody. “Mrs. Sterling, I respect Luna’s wishes,” I said, smiling. “As long as Luna is willing to get close to you all, I won’t object.” Eleanor excitedly said, “Then I’ll arrange a dinner party right away!” I emphasized that I needed to respect Luna’s opinion and discuss it with her first. After exchanging contact info with Eleanor, she made a phone call, beaming. “Come in. Apologize properly to Chloe, and then thank her.” Then I saw Jace push open the door, looking totally annoyed. He must have been waiting in the car, ready to be summoned. When he saw me, a flicker of triumph crossed his eyes.

As school dismissal approached, I finished up my work, planning to pick Luna up. Jace lingered, saying he wanted to see Luna too. “You should probably stay away from Luna for a bit,” I told him honestly. “You need to give her some time to process.” Time to accept that her biological father was a good-looking dummy. “Why?” Jace huffed, looking personally attacked. “I’m tall, handsome, and rich. What could Luna possibly be unhappy about?” “Luna’s more interested in personality than pretty faces.” “Chloe, what’s that supposed to mean?” Jace blew up instantly. “Elaborate! You were the one who chased me first, remember?” “Yeah, and now I’m using that firsthand lesson to teach Luna not to just look at a guy’s face, right?” I stomped on the gas, not bothering to say another word to Jace. During school dismissal, the school entrance was pure chaos. I parked the car in the lot and walked over. Luna was just walking out with a classmate, laughing and chatting, her backpack on. Spotting me from way across the lot, she immediately started waving, all excited. “Mom, did the teacher tell you? We have a parent-teacher conference next week!” “Yep, saw the alert on our Snapchat group.” I scooped Luna into my arms and walked towards the parking lot. She wrapped her arms around my neck, swinging her little legs and humming a happy tune. She was absolutely thrilled! I briefly explained the Sterling family situation to Luna. She cocked her head, thinking it over. “It’s just dinner, right? Let’s go.” A horn sounded from behind us. I turned, quickly pulling Luna closer to the side of the road. The car drove out from inside the school. The back window was half-down, and I only saw a young man sitting in the back. “Mom, that’s our principal. The one I told you was talking to my bio-dad.” “Really?” I was a bit surprised, unconsciously glancing back, but I didn’t get a clear look at the man. Since Luna agreed to meet the Sterlings, I didn’t intentionally delay and set the dinner for the weekend. The location was the Sterling family mansion. They said it was so Luna could recognize the house and feel free to visit whenever she wanted. Jace and I had dated for a very short time, and we certainly hadn’t reached the stage of meeting parents, so this was my first time at the Sterling residence. It was in an exclusive, upscale neighborhood—a massive villa. But Luna, being only six, even with some awareness of money, saw no difference between this mansion and the big house back at our old place in the countryside. She even complained the yard wasn’t as big as ours back home, saying it wasn’t convenient for keeping a pony or a big dog. “Luna, hello there, I’m your grandpa.” “My precious granddaughter, I’m your grandma.” Arthur and Eleanor smiled with the utmost benevolence. Luna wasn’t shy at all, greeting them confidently. “Hello, Grandpa and Grandma.” “Oh, my sweet girl, you’re so adorable. Here, these are gifts from Grandpa and Grandma.” Gold bracelets, a gold necklace, a diamond tiara, and a wad of cash envelopes were all there. Luna sweetly thanked her grandparents, then, saying she was afraid of losing them, handed everything over to me. She specifically instructed me, “Mom, make sure you keep these super safe, okay? These are all Grandpa and Grandma’s love for me!” I knew she actually just found them heavy and didn’t want to wear them. “Son, after raising you for thirty years, you’ve finally done something worthwhile!” Eleanor dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief, turning to Jace. “Thank goodness you brought a granddaughter into the Sterling family, otherwise, I truly wouldn’t want you to step foot in this house again!” Jace sat isolated on a single sofa, looking like he wanted to argue but didn’t dare. He’d clearly dressed up for the occasion, his hair perfectly styled, and he was loaded with all his usual bling – earrings, a necklace, rings, the whole nine yards. But Luna often played with older folks in the neighborhood, and her style, clearly shaped by her senior citizen friends, was totally old-school. She just looked at Jace with complete disdain.

Arthur and Eleanor seemed incredibly open-minded. They didn’t demand Luna report to the Sterling house regularly, nor did they try to dictate her future plans. When they learned Luna was interested in horseback riding, they simply mentioned a friend who owned a stable and offered to take Luna there. From start to finish, they were terrified of upsetting Luna or me in the slightest. Midway through, Jace leaned over. “Hey, I think Luna still kinda dislikes me. Can you think of a way to make her like me more?” “No.” Jace’s face fell instantly. “But how did you even find out Luna was your daughter?” I asked, a bit curious. “I didn’t find out. Liam did.” Seeing my confused expression, Jace explained, “Liam’s my best friend, and he’s also Luna’s school principal.” “He accidentally stumbled upon Luna’s enrollment records and said her eyes looked a bit like mine. Then he saw her last name, and then he saw your name listed as the parent.” “Mainly, your last name is pretty unique. I’ve dated so many women, and you’re the only one with your last name. The chance of two people having the exact same name and last name is super low. Plus, Luna’s age matched perfectly, so he told me about it, and then…” “Have I met this friend of yours?” Jace changed girlfriends faster than clothes, so it was surprising this guy even remembered me. Jace thought for a moment, then pulled out his phone and opened his gallery. “Here, you two must have met, right? I’m not sure.” I leaned in. The man in the picture wore rimless glasses; he was quite handsome. But I couldn’t recall ever seeing him. The thought that all this drama was because of this guy made me etch his name into my memory. Liam Sterling! You nosy busybody!