Category: English

After eight years of marriage, I was finally pregnant. I had just decided to tell my husband, Lowell Henderson, the good news when his secretary, Kaitlynn Warren, “accidentally” bumped into me, causing me to fall down the stairs and miscarry. Kaitlynn was so terrified that her face went pale. She rushed into Lowell’s arms, crying, “Did I mess up again? I’m sorry, you can yell at me…” Lowell’s heart broke as he saw her tears. “Silly girl, it’s fine. You didn’t do it on purpose.” He gave me a sharp glance. “Come on, it was just a fall. Get up. Don’t lie there making a scene!” At the hospital, the woman in the bed next to mine asked with concern why my husband hadn’t come to see me after my miscarriage. She asked if he was too busy. I paused for a moment, then turned and tossed my wedding ring into the trash. “No,” I said softly, “I’ve just become a widow.” Lowell didn’t come home until the dead of night the following day. He walked in and carelessly threw his coat onto the couch. To his surprise, his clothes from yesterday were still piled there, along with shoes scattered all over the floor. A flash of irritation crossed his face. He didn’t notice my pale face or the medicine on the table. “I’ve been out all day and night, and I come home to this mess. Do you expect me to clean it up?” I didn’t even look at him. I felt too tired to remind him that the scent of perfume on his clothes had already given away his whereabouts. Seeing I didn’t respond, Lowell snorted, “Seems like I married a spoiled princess. Sorry, Your Highness, I forgot you are too good to do the chore.” I bit my lip and glanced at my hands. They were calloused, a thin layer of rough skin worn into them. After we got married, I, who had never done any hard work in my life, gladly tied on an apron to learn how to cook and clean for Lowell. Back then, even if I burned my hand while cooking, as long as he praised the meal, I could be happy for the rest of the day. But now, I was tired of it. Seeing me remain silent, Lowell frowned, finally sensing something was wrong. He walked over, clueless, and reached out to touch my head. I subtly pulled away. Lowell froze, his voice softening. “What’s wrong? Are you still angry?” I asked flatly, “What’s the point of being angry?” Yesterday, at noon, I had just found out I was pregnant and had eagerly gone to tell Lowell the good news. But before I could, Kaitlynn “accidentally” knocked me down the stairs. By the time Lowell arrived, all he could see was Kaitlynn crying her eyes out. He was comforting her, his face full of concern. “Silly girl, stop crying. It’s not your fault. Maybe she wasn’t paying attention while walking. A fall might teach her a lesson. “Come on, show me your smile. You know how much I love it.” While he was busy wiping away Kaitlynn’s tears, he didn’t even notice my pale lips and the blood staining my dress. To cheer her up, Lowell promised to take her shopping, and she finally stopped crying. Meanwhile, as they enjoyed their sweet date, I lay alone in the hospital bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. My baby was gone. Tears welled up again in my eyes. “I just don’t understand you women. Always so angry for no reason,” Lowell muttered in frustration. Seeing my cold attitude, Lowell grew impatient. He tried to turn my face toward him, but when he touched my face, he realized that I was crying. His expression faltered, finally showing some concern. “Why are you still crying? It’s just a fall, and I just scolded you a bit. What’s the big deal? “Okay, fine, it’s all my fault, alright? I’m sorry that I’ve been too busy these days and neglected you.” He pulled me into his arms and sighed softly. “I’m doing this for us. Can’t you understand? “Do you know how hard I work? I work so much just to give you a better life!” Hearing his pretty words, I felt nothing. Yesterday, after my miscarriage, when I was at my lowest, Kaitlynn posted an update on her social media. [Thank you to this gentleman for the flowers! I promise I’ll never cry again!] In the picture, she was smiling brightly, holding roses. And in the background, I could just make out Lowell’s blurry figure. However, since I miscarried, Lowell hadn’t reached out to me even once. The thought made me sick. I shoved him away and casually said, “Yeah, I know. You’ve been so busy. Everything’s for me. Thanks, you’re amazing.” As soon as I finished speaking, the room fell into an awkward silence. Lowell looked at me in shock. After eight years of marriage, this was the first time I had pushed him away. He’d done it to me countless times anyway. My love, so eager and unreserved, had become the very blade he used to wound me again and again. Ignoring his stunned gaze, I turned to walk away. But suddenly, Lowell grabbed my hand tightly, his voice betraying a hint of panic. “Bessie, where’s your ring?”

I glanced down at my bare ring finger and said coldly, “I don’t know, maybe I lost it.” He stared at me intently, furrowing his brow, trying to decide if I was lying. I met his gaze without flinching. After a long pause, he let out a relieved sigh and smiled knowingly. “Really? How careless of you. Well, I’ll just buy you a new one. “I know I’ve been busy lately, and I’ve ignored your feelings. “Actually, I’ve got a little surprise for you. I brought you something you always wanted.” Lowell took a small box from his pocket and pointed to the cluttered clothes and shoes on the floor. “But you’ll have to clean this up first before I can give it to you.” I glanced at the box in his hand, then replied coldly, “I don’t need it. Keep it.” A clear sign of displeasure flashed across Lowell’s face. “You’re so difficult. I bought you the gift you wanted, and now you won’t even do a little housework? “I must have been too…” Before he could finish, his phone rang. I knew that sound. It was the ringtone he set specially for Kaitlynn. Lowell smiled instinctively. He gave me a quick glance before heading to the bedroom with his phone, then closing the door with a loud bang behind him. Five minutes later, he came out, wearing his coat, and tossed the box onto the couch. “Alright, I was just joking. Go ahead and open it. “But the house still needs to be cleaned. It has to be done before tomorrow night. It’s a mess in here, and you’re just sitting around. “We’ve had some small issues with a company project. I need to go to the company to handle it. You can sleep. Don’t wait up for me.” I watched his lousy performance in silence. The same scene had been playing over and over again for the past eight years. But I always hid inside the false dreams he had woven, too afraid to wake up. After Lowell left, I tossed the gift into the trash. But the box hit the edge of the bin, and with a snap, it popped open. A delicate ruby necklace fell to the floor. I froze for a moment, then remembered something. Seven years ago, I had asked him for a ruby necklace. At that time, the company had just started, and I had accompanied him to countless social events. Finally, we landed a major deal. The day the project was completed, I gathered the courage to ask Lowell for a ruby necklace. He frowned, clearly irritated. “Bessie, can’t you stop being like a spoiled girl? Today, you want a necklace. Tomorrow, you’ll want a car, and the day after that, you may want me to buy you a plane. “Besides, your neck’s so short. What’s the point? “If you really like it, I’ll buy you a crystal pendant, okay?” The next day, Lowell handed me a cheap crystal pendant. I always thought he just didn’t like these things. But later, he showered Kaitlynn with countless jewels. It was so many, and she couldn’t help but flaunt them on social media. [How could anyone love giving jewelry this much!!! I’m not an octopus. I can’t wear it all!] [He says I look good in it, so he buys more. Such a spendthrift.] [This ruby necklace is so old-fashioned. I hate it. I really don’t want it!] I clicked on the picture, and there it was. The ruby necklace. The one he had given me. I pressed my lips together and tossed it back into the trash. Then, I dialed a number. “Anstey, can you recommend that famous divorce lawyer you mentioned last time?”

On the other end of the line, Anstey Vargas’ voice came through, full of excitement. “Wait, did I hear you right? You’ve finally made up your mind?!” I let out a soft “Yes,” trying to suppress the bitterness in my chest. “It’s over. Everything is finished. “I just want to go home.” Anstey laughed lightly. “This is a good thing, Bessie. What’s there to be sad about? “Well, then, I’ll wish you a happy divorce in advance!” Anstey was as efficient as ever. By the next morning, the lawyer had already contacted me. I booked my flight for three days later and began packing my things. Lowell had been gone since that night, and I hadn’t seen him for two whole days. If this had been before, I would have carefully asked him why he hadn’t come home yet, afraid to upset him. Even if he hung up on me, I would’ve come up with countless excuses for him. But now, I just didn’t care. At nine in the evening, I was lying in bed, quietly planning my departure for the next day. Suddenly, my phone rang. It was Lowell’s friend, Felix Barker. “Bessie, this is bad! Lowell’s about to get into a fight! You need to come here now!”

When I arrived, I immediately spotted Lowell. Kaitlynn stood behind him, trembling with fear. Around them, a few middle-aged men with beer bellies were persistently trying to get them to drink. “Mr. Henderson, what’s the harm in letting this young lady have a drink with us to liven things up?” “Yeah, she’s just your secretary. Why protect her so much?” “As long as she drinks with us, we’ll sign the deal. Isn’t that enough?” At that, Lowell’s face darkened immediately. He slammed his glass down on the floor and sneered. “What? Do you really think I need a woman to sacrifice for my business?!” The words hit me like a slap in the face. The painful memories flooded back. In the early days of the company, to quickly gain market traction, I had accompanied Lowell to countless business banquets. For his career, I’d forced a smile and drank with others, even though it made me sick. But he never stopped the drinks that were pushed in front of me. I remembered one particular night. I cried, begging him to take me home. Those men were disgusting, and I didn’t want to drink anymore. But to my surprise, Lowell had gotten angry. “What are you talking about? It’s a privilege to drink with Mr. Ortiz!” He grabbed my hand tightly and dragged me out. “Stop making a fuss! Just drink and keep quiet. They’re waiting for us!” Thinking back, I couldn’t help but shiver with the memory. Now, facing the same situation, Lowell stood in front of Kaitlynn, shielding her from the men. He gently patted her head, his eyes full of concern. “Kaitlynn, I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have brought you to this place. “This deal? I don’t care about it. I’m not going to let you drink with those old men.” Tears sprang to my eyes. I thought, “So he cares enough to stop his beloved woman from drinking with other men. If Kaitlynn can’t drink, then what about me? All the drinks I had swallowed for him…what did they mean?” My chest clenched with pain. My eyes blurred. I quickly wiped my tears off, wanting to escape this scene. Just then, Felix spotted me and waved frantically. “Bessie, over here!” At his shout, every eye in the room turned toward me. Lowell saw me, too.

I froze for a moment, then, without hesitation, turned and walked away, not even glancing at him. Lowell seemed startled, quickly pushing through the crowd to follow me. His face was pale, likely from the alcohol. “Bessie, did you… see everything? “Listen, Kaitlynn can’t handle alcohol, so I didn’t want her to drink. It’s not what you think…” He grabbed my wrist tightly, his voice anxious. A moment later, Kaitlynn caught up to us, looking pitiful, as she grabbed my other hand. “Bessie, I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I didn’t drink the glass of wine, and now you and Lowell are fighting. Don’t be mad. I’ll drink it right now…” Lowell shot her a glare. “What are you doing here? Go back! Do you think this isn’t enough of a mess?!” I didn’t want to hear any of their excuses. Frustrated, I pushed both of them away and tried to leave quickly. But just then, Kaitlynn slipped and slammed into the corner of a nearby table. Blood started to pour from her forehead, and she cried out pitifully. “Lowell, I’m sorry. It’s my fault… “Am I going to be disfigured?” Seeing her injury, Lowell immediately panicked. He spun around and yelled at me. “Bessie, are you losing your mind? Why do you do this? “If anything happens to Kaitlynn, I swear I won’t let you off the hook!” At that moment, Lowell’s face was dark with anger. I stood there, dazed, staring at the man who was so desperately defending Kaitlynn. And suddenly, memories from nine years ago rushed back to me. Back then, he had protected me the same way. At that time, I was still in university. I often visited a friend from a nearby college. One evening, I was coming back late when two burly men suddenly appeared out of nowhere. “We’ve been watching you for a month. We finally got you now! You think you can escape?!” I tried to escape, but two minutes later, I was pinned to the ground, helpless, waiting for what seemed like endless suffering. Then suddenly, I heard a cold voice above me. “Who do you think you’re messing with? You dare bully someone from my university?!” That was the first time I met Lowell. He was incredibly quick and skilled. By the time I registered what happened, the two men were already on the ground. He helped me up, and I stammered, wanting to thank him. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for my words. My face grew hot, and I couldn’t get my words out. “I… Thank you… I’m fine…” He smiled lightly, “Is that so? Then I can relax.” Later, Lowell took my hand. He was the one who stood up for me when I was wronged, the one who made me soup during my period, and the one who carried me to the hospital when I was sick. Under the fireworks, he proposed to me. “Baby, marry me. I want you to be the happiest woman in the world. “I’ll love and protect you for the rest of my life, never letting you suffer again.” With everyone watching and blessing us, I shyly nodded and handed him my hand. I heard Kaitlynn’s pitiful sobs. Just then, a sharp slap came out of nowhere, landing on my face with a loud crack, knocking me to the ground. When I looked up, I saw Lowell’s cold, piercing gaze, strange and terrifying. “Bessie, you really disgust me. “This slap is your lesson. “Don’t think you can get away with anything just because I’ve been nice to you.” With that, he turned and stormed off, carrying Kaitlynn in his arms without a word. The winter air felt colder than ever. On the quiet street, only a few pedestrians walked by, the northern wind howling. I don’t know how long I stood there, but eventually, I got up, wiped my face, wrapped my coat tighter, and slowly began walking home. At home, I packed my bags and placed the signed divorce agreement in the most visible spot. The next afternoon, Lowell called again. By then, I had already reached the airport with my suitcase. “Bessie, if you don’t want to divorce, come apologize to Kaitlynn right now, and we’ll forget about this…” “No need,” I interrupted him. “I’ve already prepared the divorce papers. Just sign them, and we’re done.” With that, I hung up the phone, blocked all his contact information, and boarded the flight home.

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One of my coworkers had a notorious habit of freeloading. Whether it was something as small as a ballpoint pen or as expensive as a pair of headphones or a phone, she would sneakily take whatever wasn’t hers when no one was looking. “We’re all coworkers, aren’t we? What’s the big deal if I use your stuff?” she’d say, completely unapologetic. “If anything, you should be thanking me! The cheap junk you’re using practically destroyed my hands. I haven’t even charged you for the medical bills yet!” Word around the office was that her family owned the company, so nobody dared confront her, no matter how angry they were. Until I joined. When I hosted a birthday party for the team, she managed to swipe an iPad off the cruise ship we’d rented for the event and then faked a heart attack to cover it up. Big mistake. I used to work as a professional in search and rescue. CPR was my specialty. “Sandra! Why did you take my phone again? I need it to call a client!” Laura’s voice trembled as she spoke, her face pale with frustration. “Why the shouting? Your phone was just sitting there on your desk. If you’re not using it, isn’t it a waste? I’m doing you a favor by putting it to use. You should be grateful,” Sandra replied lazily. She lounged at her desk, a sheet mask plastered to her face, watching a drama on her phone. The occasional giggle escaped her lips, the sound only adding fuel to Laura’s frustration. Laura clenched her fists but didn’t dare fully express her anger. Instead, she muttered under her breath, “Just make sure you give it back when you’re done. I need it too, you know.” Sandra ignored her completely, pretending not to hear. It wasn’t until another coworker couldn’t take it anymore that someone spoke up. “Sandra, Laura needs her phone. Give it back.” Sandra shot them an annoyed glance. “What are you yelling about? Her phone isn’t even with me.” Laura froze. “Then where’s my phone?” “It’s at the repair shop. Your phone broke, so I sent it in for you. Be a dear and reimburse me for the delivery fee. That would be 100 bucks.” Sandra reached out toward Laura, completely unfazed. Tears welled up in Laura’s eyes. “Sandra, that’s my brand-new phone! How could it just break like that?” “Come on, people drop dead all day. Why can’t a phone suddenly break?” Sandra said with a shrug, then leaned in with a smug smirk. “Or are you just trying to avoid paying the fee? Laura, think carefully. My family owns this company. If you want to ruin your career, be my guest.” Her veiled threat shut Laura up instantly. She wiped her tears and, shaking, handed 100 dollars to Sandra. I had just finished my onboarding paperwork when I walked into the scene. Curious, I asked the coworker next to me what was going on. They rolled their eyes so hard I thought they might disappear into their skull. Leaning closer, they whispered, “You’re new, so you don’t know yet, but Sandra loves freeloading. “Anything that’s not hers is fair game, pens, headphones, phones, you name it.” They sighed and continued, “Once she gets her hands on something, it’s as good as gone. This time, she took Laura’s phone. Poor girl just graduated and saved up for months to buy that phone. She guarded it like her life depended on it, but Sandra still found a way to take it. “I guess she has to save some money again to buy a new one.” Looking over at Laura’s desk, I saw her sitting there, her head bowed, tears streaming down her face. Her eyes were swollen from crying. Sandra, oblivious or uncaring, continued watching her show. But the sound of Laura’s sniffles seemed to irritate her. “What are you crying about? If you keep this up, I’ll have the manager fire you!” she snapped. Laura immediately fell silent, her face pale with fear. I frowned, my frustration bubbling. “Is this what the work environment here is like?” I wondered. I was about to say something when my phone buzzed. It was my dad calling. Stepping out to take the call, I returned a few minutes later to find Laura had already left the office.

Afternoon snacks at the office came with a little extra flair: birthday perks. Whenever someone had a birthday, the company would prepare a special gift. Even the afternoon snacks would include an extra slice of cake for the lucky employee. It was my first week on the job, and I received the same treatment. But as I unwrapped the chestnut cake, I couldn’t help frowning at the flavor. A male colleague at the next desk noticed and offered, “Not a fan of chestnut cake? “I’ve got mousse cake. Want to trade?” “Thanks,” I replied with a smile, swapping cakes with him. Before I could take a bite, Sandra’s head popped up from her desk like a prairie dog. “Ugh, juice again? I’m so sick of it,” she said, wrinkling her nose. Her eyes darted to Pablo’s cake. “Oh, Pablo, you’ve got cake! Let me have a bite.” Without waiting for an answer, she reached out, but Pablo swiftly moved the plate out of her reach. Sandra’s hand grabbed at thin air, and her smile froze. “Wow, stingy much? It’s just a bite of cake. Why so selfish?” Someone nearby couldn’t help but tease, “Sandra, don’t act innocent. You’ve been eating Pablo’s cakes for ages. No wonder he doesn’t want to share anymore.” “Me? Please. He only has cake once a year on his birthday! How many chances do I even get to eat it?” Sandra scoffed, trying to sound indignant. “Besides, my family owns this company. What’s the big deal if I take a bite?” “Then why not buy Pablo a big one? We could all share!” someone joked, prompting a ripple of laughter. Sandra’s hand instinctively clutched her pocket. “This is the company’s way of showing care to employees. No need for me to overshadow that.” But her eyes lingered on Pablo’s coffee, and she wasn’t done yet. “Pablo, is that coffee from the hand-brewed shop downstairs? I hate juice. How about we trade?” Pablo didn’t even glance her way. Instead, he picked up the cup and took a deliberate sip right in front of her. Moments later, the supervisor called Pablo over to hand in some documents, and he left his desk. Sandra’s eyes darted around, and when she saw no one was paying attention, she swooped in, grabbing Pablo’s cake and all his birthday gifts. Back at her desk, she devoured the cake in a matter of seconds, washing it down with her juice before leisurely unwrapping the rest of his gifts to “test” them out. When Pablo returned and found his desk empty, he marched straight to Sandra, his face red with anger. “What’s your problem? Why did you take my stuff again?” Sandra didn’t even blink. “Watch your tone. What do you mean, ‘take’? I was just borrowing them.” “Then give them back!” Sandra smirked, tossing some ground coffee into her mug and taking a sip before handing it to him. “Here, your ground coffee.” Pablo’s frustration boiled over. He slapped the mug away, coffee spilling everywhere. “Sandra, can you stop? Can’t you go a day without freeloading?” Sandra’s smile turned icy. “Why are you so uptight? We’re coworkers. What’s the big deal about sharing a bit of coffee?” Her tone grew sharper. “Cheap people like you really are pathetic. This skirt I’m wearing cost 100 grand. Remember to pay for it if you damage it!” “You—” Pablo spluttered, too angry to speak. Sandra cut him off, smirking as she played her favorite card. “Don’t forget, my family owns this company. If I want you gone, it’s just one word from me.”

I couldn’t hold back anymore. Everyone has their limits, and Sandra had crossed mine. My gaze flicked to her skirt, and I remarked casually, “Your skirt’s a knockoff.” Sandra’s head snapped toward me. “What did you just say? This is a designer piece I ordered from an overseas boutique!” I pointed to the fabric and stitching. “The material is wrong, the stitching is sloppy, and there are loose threads everywhere. “Are we supposed to believe a 100-thousand-dollar skirt would leave the factory looking like that?” Her voice rose. “What do you know? High fashion is all about craftsmanship. Hand-sewn details are what makes it authentic!” Sandra stormed toward me, tugging on her skirt indignantly. I took a step back and smirked. “Oh, I get it now. You must’ve swiped that skirt from a coworker too.” Sandra’s face turned crimson. “Are you insane? How would I even ‘swipe’ a skirt? Rip it off someone’s body?” “Why not? You’ve stolen phones out of people’s pockets before. This wouldn’t be much of a stretch.” The office erupted in muffled laughter, and Sandra’s blush deepened. Unable to out-argue me, she leaned on her usual defense. “Don’t forget, this company belongs to my family. If I want you fired, no one can stop me.” Ignoring her, I took a deliberate step back, pinched my nose, and said, “Stay away from me. “I’ve got a sensitive nose, and the stench of freeloading reeks of cheapness.” The office exploded with laughter. People doubled over, their chuckles echoing through the room like waves. Sandra stomped back to her desk, clearly rattled. In her haste, she knocked over her juice, spilling it all over her precious skirt. She let out a piercing shriek before darting out of the office, presumably to the dry cleaner. Pablo, barely containing his grin, brought over a small gift as thanks. But Laura approached me cautiously, her brows furrowed with worry. “Hey, Sandra’s so flashy and bossy. What if the company really is her family’s? Aren’t you afraid she’ll have her dad fire you?” I twirled my car keys in my hand, smirking. “Doesn’t matter. My family isn’t exactly struggling either.” Laura’s eyes lit up. “You’re amazing!”

It was the weekend, and coincidentally, my birthday. Hoping to bond more with my coworkers, I invited everyone to celebrate. “I have a friend whose family runs a yacht business. They’re letting me use one for free, so I’m inviting everyone to join me for a party at sea.” “That’s so generous of you! Are you sure? Maybe we can chip in to cover some costs?” My coworkers were kind and considerate, offering to help pay for the event. I smiled and waved them off. “It’s my birthday, and it only happens once a year. Let’s just have fun.” “Just bring yourselves,” I added with a grin. “Then we’ll make sure to prepare a fantastic gift for you!” someone chimed in, and the room burst into excited chatter. I called the yacht crew to request their most luxurious setup. Just as I hung up, Sandra slinked over, her expression eager but calculating. “I’ve never been on a yacht before, Feona,” she said. “Mind if I tag along?” I didn’t bother looking at her, replying bluntly, “I’m inviting friends, not freeloaders who steal from others.” Her face froze, but she quickly forced a smile. “Oh, come on. I’ll get you a big gift. Trust me, it’ll be something really nice,” she promised with exaggerated enthusiasm. Reluctantly, I agreed. Sandra practically skipped away in delight. The moment she was gone, the other coworkers swarmed me. “Why did you invite her? She’s going to ruin everything!” “Yeah, the last time I had a birthday party, she stole my favorite Lego set. I still have no idea how she managed to smuggle something that big out of my house!” “Feona, you’ve got to be careful. Don’t let her ruin your party or get away with anything.” I looked at their worried faces and smiled reassuringly. Deep down, I knew they all feared Sandra’s threat, so they never dared to defy her. “Don’t worry. She won’t get away with anything this time.” I glanced over at Sandra, who was eagerly stuffing plastic bags into her oversized purse, clearly planning to haul away whatever she could. “Not only will she not profit, but I’ll make sure she coughs up everything she’s ever taken from all of you,” I added with a wide grin. If she loved taking advantage, I’d show her what it really meant to pay for her greed.

The yacht was massive, and I suggested everyone start by enjoying the pool while we set up the other activities. My coworkers brought out their carefully prepared gifts: designer bags, headphones, perfume, and other high-end items. Even a few colleagues who had pooled their money managed to bring something thoughtful and elegant. Sandra, of course, showed up empty-handed. When everyone’s eyes turned to her, she crossed her arms, looking unbothered. “What? I brought a gift, but I forgot to bring it with me, that’s all.” “Sure, you did,” someone muttered. “You always say that!” “Sandra, can’t you at least come up with a better excuse?” “You didn’t prepare anything, did you?” Sandra huffed, feigning annoyance. “Fine, if it’s such a big deal, I’ll go back and get it.” She started climbing out of the pool, taking her sweet time and dragging the moment out for nearly ten minutes before I finally stepped in. “Forget it,” I said, shaking my head. “I believe Sandra. She’ll make it up to me later.” Everyone fell silent, though their expressions made it clear they weren’t happy. Out of respect for me, the birthday girl, they let it go. Later, when a staff member brought out an iPad for us to use to order services, it mysteriously disappeared after making its rounds. The staff was frantic, and all eyes turned to Sandra. “It’s her! She must’ve hidden it!” “She’s the only one here who’d pull something like this!” “She even brought her bag to the pool. I bet the iPad’s in there!” Everyone demanded to search Sandra’s bag, but she clutched it tightly to her chest. “Don’t you dare accuse me without proof! I brought my bag because it’s expensive, and I didn’t want anything stolen from it!” she protested, her voice shrill. “And for the record, it’s just an iPad. Like I’d care about something so basic.” Sensing the growing tension, I stepped in again. “Let it go. I’m sure it’s not difficult to find it,” I said, giving a resigned sigh. “If the iPad can’t be found, I’ll cover the cost.” Sandra beamed. “Feona, you’re so generous!” she said, stuffing her face with food from the buffet. She even slyly emptied dishes into the plastic bags she’d brought. When someone called her out, Sandra snapped back. “Aren’t we here to eat? That’s what parties are for! And Feona doesn’t mind, so why are you making a fuss?” She wasn’t content with just the food either. She even swiped game controllers from the lounge. After filling her bags with all kinds of items, she claimed she was feeling unwell and needed to rest. Someone tried to stop her. “Sandra, you promised not to freeload today.” She snapped, “How is this freeloading? Feona spent so much money. I’m just helping her get her money’s worth. “Besides, this is a yacht. How I’m supposed to escape? “Suppose you want my bag, fine. You can have one of them. I need the other to wash up.” Then, she covered her head and ran away. As soon as she disappeared, Pablo opened the bag she’d left behind, only to find used tissues. “That’s it! I knew she’d run!” Pablo exclaimed, his anger boiling over. “She’s stolen so much! Feona, you can’t let her get away with this!” I casually lined up my pool shot, the cue ball cracking sharply against the others as I sunk another ball. “Don’t worry,” I said with a smile. “She’s not going anywhere.”

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My wife’s true love had an accident, and she was convinced it was my fault. No matter how much I swore, no matter how many times I begged or provided evidence, Karen refused to believe me. She was certain that I, driven by jealousy, had tried to kill her beloved Michael. So, she made her decision. Cold and decisive, she sent me off to a hellhole of a coal mine to “reflect on my sins.” Life in the mine was brutal. The work alone could break a man, but that wasn’t enough for Karen. She made sure I received “special attention”—round-the-clock torment from the guards she’d paid to oversee me. I didn’t last long. Karen didn’t bother to check on me until three years later. By then, I’d been dead for over two years. Three years ago, Karen accused me of attempted murder and had me sent to a coal mine to reflect and atone for my supposed sins. No matter how much I pleaded, no matter how many pieces of evidence I presented, even if I got down on my knees and begged her, she refused to listen. She was convinced that, out of jealousy, I had plotted to harm the love of her life—Michael. Life in that coal mine was anything but easy. Especially when Karen had arranged for “special care” to ensure my suffering continued day and night. It didn’t take long before I died there. When Karen, her expression cold and her brows furrowed, arrived at the mine with her bodyguards to “check on me,” I had already been dead for two and a half years. “Whether he agrees or not, I don’t care. Tie him up if you must, but get his signature on the donation form!” The visiting room was warm and cozy, but her icy voice cut through the air, making the temperature feel like it had plummeted to the dead of winter. She looked around with irritation, clearly disgusted by her surroundings, and snapped at her bodyguards, “What’s taking so long? Bring him out to see me—now!” After what felt like an eternity, the foreman of the mine finally appeared at the door. But he wasn’t bringing me with him. “Karen, I’m sorry to make you wait, but…” “But what?” Karen’s expression turned instantly colder. The foreman stammered, “It’s just… Daniel won’t be able to come see you.” “Won’t see me? Ha!” Karen sneered. “What’s that supposed to mean? Enjoying himself too much here? Three meals a day without a care in the world while he hides from me?” “Tell him this: as long as he voluntarily donates a kidney, I’ll let him stay here as long as he likes—even until he dies!” She ordered the foreman to deliver the message, thinking it’d lure me out. What she didn’t know was that I was already floating above her, my ghost watching her with a bitter smile. The foreman didn’t move. Karen noticed his hesitation and immediately narrowed her eyes. “What’s wrong? Is Daniel that unwilling to see me?” The foreman shook his head quickly. “No, it’s not that. It’s just… he’s not here anymore. He hasn’t been here for a long time.” Of course. All that was left of me was my invisible spirit. My body had been gone for years. The day I died, they couldn’t stand how gruesome my corpse looked, so they threw me out. By now, I’m sure my body has been reduced to fertilizer by some stray dog out there. Karen, however, didn’t believe a word of the foreman’s explanation. She ordered her bodyguards to keep an eye on him as she began searching the mine herself. Room by room, she went—checking the dorms, the break room, the kitchen. She even scrutinized every name on the employee roster. But no trace of me could be found. Her frustration grew with every passing moment. Rage simmered beneath her icy demeanor as she turned back to the foreman. “I told you no one was to let him leave. Are you deaf, or do you just enjoy defying my orders?” The foreman, who had been nothing but her loyal lapdog, would never have dared to let me go. Three years ago, when Karen’s men tortured me until I was barely alive, I had begged the foreman on my knees to let me out for treatment. He hadn’t even flinched. I had bled, I had wept, I had smashed my head against the ground until it was covered in blood, but the foreman never once relented. Karen sat down, her face frostier than ever, and gave the foreman one last ultimatum: “You have five minutes. Bring him to me.” Cornered, the foreman sighed deeply and finally confessed. “Karen… I’ll tell you the truth. Daniel is… he’s dead.” “He died horribly. His entire body was covered in wounds. The walls and floor were smeared with blood from where he bashed his head and clawed with his fingernails until they were gone. The day he died, we… we threw his body out to the dogs.” Karen didn’t believe him. If anything, her irritation only deepened. “Stop lying to me. What did Daniel offer you to help him escape? Do you think you can deceive me and get away with it?” “Michael’s been stuck in a wheelchair for life because of him. Does he think death will excuse him? Or worse, did you two conspire together to fool me?” The foreman panicked. “No, no! Karen, I wouldn’t dare! You’re my boss—I’d never betray you!” Desperate to prove his innocence, he fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a photograph, placing it on the table. “This is a picture I took at the time. Please, Karen—don’t let anyone else see it…”

Karen cast a doubtful glance at the foreman, her gaze landing on the photo he placed before her. The moment her eyes focused on it, her pupils contracted sharply. The image showed a figure, barely recognizable as human. The body was contorted into an unnatural, agonizing curve, covered head to toe with cuts, bruises, and swollen welts. Blood streaks ran across the face, obscuring any identifying features. The skin was a patchwork of dark purple scabs, with no unbroken area to be found. The fingernails appeared to have been ripped out, exposing raw, bloody tissue beneath, where nerves and flesh were left mangled and torn. From the state of the body, it was clear—the person in the photo was long, irreversibly dead. Karen froze for a moment, her eyes widening involuntarily. But soon, she broke into a cold, mocking laugh. “The makeup job is impressive. For a second, I almost believed this was Daniel.” “Do you really think I’m stupid enough to fall for this? How could he possibly end up like this? All he does here is eat, drink, and work in the mine. What could’ve hurt him this badly?” “And,” she added with a sneer, “if he really was dying, why wouldn’t he be taken to a hospital? No, this is obviously fake!” Her words stabbed at me like knives. Floating invisibly above her, I felt a deep ache in my hollow chest. It was her, after all, who arranged for me to be “taken care of,” ensuring I could never leave. How could I have died here in such misery if she hadn’t ordered it? I remembered the last time they beat me. After that, I couldn’t hold on anymore. I knelt on the ground, begging the foreman to call her. But she had only relayed a single message: “If he’s going to die, let him die quickly. Don’t disgust me with his whining.” Even though Karen had clearly stopped caring about me, my will to survive still burned. I smashed my head against the ground repeatedly, the sound echoing through the grimy room. Blood mixed with dirt, forming a dark, sticky sludge that dripped down in slow, heavy drops. The foreman, perhaps out of some faint flicker of pity, finally spoke to me. “It’s not that I don’t want to let you out. It’s just… what’s the point?” “You got money? The nearest hospital’s hundreds of miles away. How do you plan to get there? And don’t forget, all your ID—everything that proves who you are—is in your wife’s hands.” “Just hold on. If you make it through this, it’s fate. If you don’t… well, that’s fate too. Next time, kid, marry someone kinder.” His words made me laugh bitterly. Fate, huh? I collapsed onto the floor like a deflated balloon, utterly defeated. Blood bubbled up from my mouth, but I swallowed it back down, forcing myself to crawl toward the dormitory. Maybe I could rest there for just a little while. But rest was a luxury I couldn’t afford anymore. Ten minutes later, the foreman had me dragged from my bloodstained bed and thrown back into the coal mine. That was where I finally collapsed for the last time, never to rise again. Karen glanced at the foreman, whose face was filled with unease, and let out a cold scoff. “Enough with the theatrics! Stop wasting my time!” “Tell Daniel to get his ass out here. If he agrees to donate his kidney, I’ll let him go—and I’ll even throw in an extra $20,000.” Floating above them, my spirit felt colder than the bitterest winter wind. So this was it. My kidney was worth $20,000 to her. Less than the cost of one of the designer jackets she’d bought for Michael. Let alone the millions she’d casually spent on that concept supercar for him, a gift she didn’t even blink at. Her indifference? That was reserved only for me. All her love—all her warmth—was saved for Michael. The foreman continued to try to explain, but Karen was stubborn, convinced that I was hiding somewhere and that the two of us were conspiring to deceive her. “You said he’s dead? Then where’s the body? The grave? A single photo isn’t proof of anything!” “I’m warning you—if you don’t hand him over today, I’ll make your life a living hell.” With no other option, the foreman gritted his teeth and led her outside to a barren patch of land. Pointing at a small, overgrown mound, he said reluctantly, “This is where we dumped him.” Karen’s face darkened as she issued a cold, cutting order to her bodyguards. “Dig. I want him found—alive or dead.”

Digging up someone’s grave is seen as a line you simply don’t cross—a vile act, no better than arson or murder. But Karen stood there, cold and detached, watching her bodyguards claw away at my grave with shovels, showing not a shred of sympathy. I hovered above, staring at her in pain and disbelief. I never thought her hatred for me could run this deep. The foreman, perhaps feeling a twinge of guilt, stood off to the side with his hands clasped together, muttering prayers under his breath, as though hoping my ghost wouldn’t come after him for vengeance. But his moment of solace didn’t last long. A bodyguard grabbed his arm and dragged him to the edge of the now-dug-up mound of dirt. The grave was empty. Nothing. No bones. No body. Just cold, barren soil. “Where is he? Where are the bones? Didn’t you say Daniel was buried here?” Karen’s voice was sharp, the kind of sharp that precedes an explosion. She glared at the foreman, her anger bubbling beneath the surface like a volcano about to erupt. “It’s just dirt!” she snapped. “You better not be telling me you got the wrong spot!” The foreman’s eyes widened as he stared into the empty pit, disbelief plastered all over his face. “I… I swear this is the right place! I saw wild dogs sniffing around his body, and I—I couldn’t stand it! That’s why I buried him here myself! This… this doesn’t make sense!” Even I felt a flicker of confusion. My body was here—wasn’t it? Karen, though, had run out of patience. She folded her arms and cut him off with a bitter laugh. “So, let me guess—now you’re going to tell me the dogs dug him back up and ate him?” “Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. All these years, and no one’s ever managed to fool me like this before!” Her voice grew icier with every word. “Daniel. You. All of you. You’re all just great.” The foreman stammered, trying to explain, but before he could get another word in, Karen’s phone rang. The second she saw the name on the screen, her frosty demeanor melted away entirely, replaced by a softness so tender it was almost sickening. “Michael,” she cooed, her voice dripping with warmth. “How are you feeling today? Don’t worry—I’ll make sure Daniel willingly donates his kidney for you!” Michael. Him. The very person responsible for me being thrown into that coal mine. The reason I suffered and died in agony. The one who started it all. On the other end of the line, Michael’s voice was weak, barely above a whisper. “Karen… you really don’t have to go through all this trouble for me. My condition—” “Stop it!” Karen interrupted, her tone suddenly frantic, as though the mere suggestion of giving up was unbearable to her. “Don’t say things like that. I promised you I’d save you, and I will!” “If it weren’t for you donating one of your kidneys to me back then, I might not even be alive today. And now your other kidney is… well, don’t worry. If Daniel’s is a match, I’ll track him to the ends of the earth if I have to!” I frowned. Wait, what? Since when did Michael save Karen’s life? There was a brief pause on the other end of the call before Michael hesitantly asked what was going on. Karen explained the situation—how I had supposedly “disappeared” and how no one could find me. And then, to my shock, Michael said something that made my non-existent heart skip a beat. “That’s impossible,” he said, sounding surprised. “Daniel just called me earlier today. He said he’s leaving the country.” He paused before adding, almost casually, “Oh, and he said he left something for you at the old house. Once you see it, everything will make sense.” What?! I wanted to scream, to yell, to warn Karen not to believe him. He was lying! He was manipulating her, like he always did. But no matter how hard I tried, no sound came out. Even when I floated right in front of her, waving my hands wildly, she didn’t notice me at all. After hanging up the phone, Karen’s expression turned ice-cold again. She shot one last glare at the foreman before turning on her heel and leaving without another word. Half an hour later, Karen arrived at the old house where we used to live. It was a modest two-bedroom place—a cozy little home that had once been our sanctuary, filled with warmth and love back when we were happy. Without hesitation, Karen pushed the door open and stepped inside. Her face was set in a hard, determined expression, but there was a flicker of something else—nostalgia, maybe, or bitterness—as her eyes scanned the familiar surroundings. In the living room, on the coffee table, she spotted an envelope. She picked it up, opened it, and pulled out a single sheet of paper. There was only one sentence written on it. “Karen, you’ll never find me.”

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I had proposed to my childhood sweetheart, Brenda Schultz, countless times. It wasn’t until my 99th attempt that she finally said yes. But on that very day, another piece of news shot became a hashtag: “Dexter Greville, the once-proud heir to the Greville family who had fallen to the status of a servant’s son, proposed to Brenda.” In the news footage, my fiancée Brenda covered her lips with trembling hands, blushing as she accepted the ring Dexter offered her. Behind them, their parents and friends were all offering their blessings. What they didn’t know was that Brenda had also agreed to marry me. Later, Brenda shamelessly explained, “Dexter has cancer. I’m just playing along to make him happy.” However, when I left, she draped herself around Dexter’s neck and cooed, “I’ve set my wedding with Kendrick for three days from now. “I only agreed to his proposal, so I could see you try to stop it. Isn’t that romantic?” When I heard that, I finally gave up. I picked up my phone and made a call. “I’m getting married in three days. Are you coming? I need a bride.” On my wedding day, when I was preparing to marry another woman, Brenda lost her mind.

“Kendrick, can you stop being so unreasonable?” Brenda snapped. “Dexter has cancer. He’s dying! This is his last wish. I just want to make him happy! “You already took his place as the Greville heir. I’ve even agreed to marry you. What more do you want?” Brenda rushed back as soon as she got my call. Storming into the room, she yanked off her engagement ring and threw it onto the couch, her frustration spilling out. “Yes, I know you’ve suffered a lot in the past, but what does that have to do with Dexter? “Do you really need to take out all your resentment and anger on an innocent man?” I am Kendrick Greville. Dexter was my non-biological brother, and Brenda was the woman I’d been in love with for many years. When I was born, Dexter’s mother, Laura Ruiz, worked as a servant in my family’s household. Taking advantage of her position, she swapped me and Dexter. I was abandoned in the countryside and grew up as a penniless orphan, while Dexter became the pampered heir to a wealthy family. Perhaps out of guilt, Laura adopted me, but she never treated me kindly. My childhood was a nightmare. She would beat me over nothing, whip me with thorn-covered switches, and in the dead of winter, she would throw me out, bruised and shivering, without so much as a sip of warm water. During those bleak years, Brenda was my only source of light. She was my neighbor. Her mother was a gambling addict, and her stepfather was a violent drunk. Whenever they fought, she became their punching bag. I would stand in front of her to shield her from the blows, and she would often sneak food to me when I was starving. We supported each other through those long, harsh years. When my true identity was revealed, and I returned to the Greville family, I brought Brenda out of that miserable environment, too. I insisted on making her my girlfriend, supported her financially, and provided her with an education. I spoiled her, turning her into a refined and affluent lady. She once cupped my face with tears in her eyes and told me I was the light of her life. She said she couldn’t live without me. That’s why I never understood why she always hesitated and found excuses every time I proposed to her. But now, I finally understood. I realized my fiancée had fallen in love with the servant’s son who had stolen my life.

As I watched Brenda’s impatient expression, a dull ache began to rise in my chest. Instead of answering her questions directly, I reached out and smoothed her disheveled hair. “Do you remember what you said to me when I returned to the Greville family?” Even after regaining my rightful identity, I never truly became part of the family. My parents preferred the son they had raised themselves. When the truth came out, Dexter faced no consequences. They still took him to social events, and the dinner table was always filled with the dishes he loved but would trigger my allergies. Back then, Brenda would hold my hand tenderly and tell me, “It’s okay. Even if the whole world doesn’t love you, I will. I’ll always stay by your side.” But now, even the one person who had stood by me had switched sides. Brenda frowned slightly, avoiding my hand as a flicker of unease crossed her face. “I remember,” she replied reluctantly. “Of course I do, but… “Dexter’s situation is dire. We should prioritize his need.” Perhaps realizing she’d been too harsh, she softened her expression and spoke gently, “Don’t worry. I only said yes to Dexter to give him some comfort. The person I’m marrying is still you.” But I knew she was lying. Even though her words professed love, the impatience in her eyes and her thinly veiled resistance told the truth. I realized that she no longer loved me. Brenda’s phone buzzed on the table. Dexter’s face appeared on the screen, but she quickly covered it up, saying evasively, “It’s probably my parents asking about the wedding arrangements. You should go prepare…” She paused briefly, then added with a meaningful look, “I’ll give you a surprise on our wedding day.” With that, Brenda left in a hurry. I frowned, uneasy. I felt something was off, so I followed her. As I’d suspected, she drove away in a rush and headed to a private suite. When I reached the door, I heard laughter inside. Someone said, “Dexter, are you really planning to crash the wedding that day?”

Inside, Brenda sat beside Dexter. Dexter toyed with her fingers, raising an eyebrow with a smirk. “I always keep my promises. Don’t you think so?” Their friends burst into laughter, chiming in, “We just don’t get it. If you’re going to be together, why make Brenda accept Kendrick’s proposal? Isn’t all this a hassle?” I knew his reason. Because I had taken his place as the Greville heir, Dexter was determined to take away the one person I cherished most. He had fooled my parents with his innocence and deceived Brenda with excuses, but he couldn’t fool me. Of course, Dexter didn’t admit any of this. Instead, he said dramatically, “Crashing the wedding is romantic, isn’t it? “It makes our love story more epic. Don’t you think so?” Their laughter erupted again. Someone turned to Brenda and asked, “Aren’t you worried Kendrick will be furious? Running off with Dexter at the wedding would publicly humiliate him. No man could tolerate that.” Brenda leaned into Dexter’s arms, gazing up at him shyly before replying, “I’ll do whatever makes Dexter happy.” Upon hearing this, I felt my heart sank. Their laughter became a cruel mockery of me. Stumbling backward, I staggered out of place, dazed. Images of Brenda blushing as she accepted Dexter’s ring and their schemes for the wedding flashed through my mind. The cold winter wind cut through me, seeping into my bones. I closed my eyes, but their words echoed in my ears. They said, “Mr. and Mrs. Greville also know about this. “They agreed because they wanted to fulfill Dexter’s last wish. “With Dexter’s parents on your side, what’s there to worry about?” Now I understood why my parents had attended Dexter’s proposal. No one truly loved me. To them, I was merely a steppingstone for Dexter’s happiness. My parents and my friends were all the same. I used to think Brenda was different. But after twenty years together, after all the love I’d given her, she had said, “I’ll do whatever makes Dexter happy.” I thought, “Then let me grant them their wish.” A loud car horn jolted me back to reality. I opened my eyes and found myself standing in the middle of the road. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the ache in my heart aside. Finally, I made a call. “I’m getting married in three days. “Are you coming? I need a bride.”

In order to create the dramatic effect Dexter wanted, my wedding was arranged to be exceptionally grand. My parents even arranged for the media to broadcast the event live. Our relatives and friends, well aware of the underlying tension, were ready to witness the spectacle of a dramatic wedding crash. Everyone assumed I was oblivious to the scheme. Brenda arrived early and changed into her wedding gown. In the private area designated for wedding preparations, she and Dexter enjoyed themselves with passionate sex. When I arrived, she emerged from the room, her face flushed. The sight of me startled her, and she stammered nervously, “The light in the room went out. I was scared of being alone, so I called Dexter to help fix it.” Feigning ignorance, I nodded in acknowledgment. Brenda flashed me a smile and slid her arm through mine. She pressed the wedding ring into my palm. “When we’re up there, kneel down and slip this onto my finger, okay?” I knew this was part of their carefully crafted plan. Dexter intended to burst onto the scene just as I was kneeling to propose. He wanted to snatch Brenda away in the most dramatic fashion possible. That was their idea of romance. I agreed, and as Brenda smiled contentedly, preparing to leave, I stopped her. Looking straight into her eyes, I asked, “You once said I was the light of your life. You said you couldn’t live without me. Was that true?” She froze for a moment. We had been together for so many years that whatever passion we once shared had long since withered. I doubted she even remembered her own promises. Forcing a smile, she replied half-heartedly, “Of course. Now hurry up and get ready. The ceremony is about to begin.” I watched her retreating figure and couldn’t help but smile bitterly. I wondered if her old promises ever held any truth.

The wedding began with elegant music drifting through the venue. Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, Brenda approached me with a smile. But I could tell her anticipation wasn’t to be my bride. Her gaze lingered on Dexter, filled with unspoken anticipation. When it was time to exchange rings, the entire room held its breath. Dexter stared at me intently, poised to step in and execute his plan. Brenda extended her hand to me, the romantic melody shifting into a more suspenseful tune. But I didn’t move. Brenda grew impatient, whispering urgently, “Kendrick, what’s wrong? Put the ring on me!” Still, I said nothing. In the audience, my father stood abruptly, his frustration evident. “Kendrick, what are you doing? Everyone’s waiting!” As I remained motionless, whispers of confusion spread among the guests. Brenda, now visibly flustered, gave me a reproachful look. “Kendrick, what’s the matter with you? Isn’t this what you wanted? Today is our wedding! Everyone is watching. Don’t humiliate me like this!” I let out a weary laugh. So, they were aware that disrupting the ceremony would humiliate the couple involved. Yet they went ahead with their plan, anyway, caring little for my dignity. Once the murmurs of the crowd subsided, I finally spoke, “I’m sorry, but my bride hasn’t arrived yet. Could we wait a little longer for her?” Brenda’s face paled with disbelief. The audience erupted in shock, unsure of what was happening. Just then, the hotel doors burst open. A familiar figure, wearing a dazzling wedding gown, strode in. “Kendrick, I’m here to marry you!”

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=#### When Mrs. Cooper handed me a check for five million dollars and told me to leave Natalie Cooper, I didn’t hesitate for a second. I had spent five years by Emily’s side, giving her the best years of my life. Five million? It wasn’t nearly enough for what I’d sacrificed. Word of this reached Emily soon enough. I later heard that on the day she found out, she skipped the most important meeting of her career just to come find me. When Natalie Cooper stormed into the apartment she had bought for me, I was in the middle of packing my things. “What’s the meaning of this?” Her face was dark, her expression colder than I’d ever seen it. After years of being with her, I knew what this look meant—she was furious. “Ms. Cooper,” I said with a calm smile, trying to look composed despite the mess around me. “Five million dollars to leave you—what’s there to misunderstand?” That only made her angrier. Her jaw clenched, and I could see the fire behind her eyes. “Once you walk out that door,” she hissed, her voice low but sharp, “don’t come crawling back.” With that, she turned and slammed the door behind her. To be fair, Emily had been good to me over the years—at least, in a material sense. She showered me with gifts: luxury cars, designer watches, all the trappings of a kept man. If I’d stayed, those five million dollars would’ve been just a fraction of what I could’ve gotten. But lately, I’d grown tired of it all. And besides, word had it that Andrew was coming back from abroad. Andrew—the man Emily’s family had always wanted for her. Her fiancé. The man who was my reminder of what I really was: just a stand-in. It didn’t take me long to pack up my things. Within half an hour, I was out the door with nowhere to go. I ended up crashing at my buddy Matthew’s place. Unfortunately, his new girlfriend was there too. They were wrapped up in their little love bubble, making me feel like the third wheel. Matthew gave me an apologetic look, but I hadn’t called ahead, so I couldn’t really blame him. I excused myself and checked into a nearby hotel instead. This hotel wasn’t unfamiliar. Emily and I used to stay here often. On nights when her business deals turned into boozy work dinners, she’d book a room nearby to rest. Emily could hold her liquor well—she rarely lost her cool in public, no matter how much she drank. But on the rare occasions she did get drunk, she was impossible to handle. No one could deal with her when she was like that—no one except me. Her assistant would always call me to come and take care of her. As I checked in, the woman at the front desk recognized me. “Ms. Cooper didn’t come with you this time?” she asked with a polite smile. I shook my head and replied casually, “Emily and I aren’t together anymore.” She blinked, clearly taken aback by how easily I said it. After all, everyone in the city’s elite circles knew about us. Natalie Cooper, the famously unattainable CEO, and me, her kept man—a detail that had always been a source of gossip. Once I got my room key, I poured myself a drink and turned on some heavy metal—the kind of music I loved but rarely got to listen to. Emily hated rock music. She said it was too loud, too chaotic. Whenever we were together, I’d play the soothing acoustic tracks she preferred. But now, as I sat alone in the hotel room with an expensive drink in hand and the music blasting, I realized something felt… off. Something was missing. I stayed in that hotel for three days, doing nothing but drinking and trying to drown out the silence. On the third day, Matthew showed up. He’d heard about my breakup with Emily and had taken time off from his girlfriend to help me “get back on my feet.” His grand plan? A road trip. Just the two of us, hitting the open road to clear my head. But the day before we were supposed to leave, Matthew got called into work for some emergency at his company. And just like that, our “bro trip” turned into a solo adventure. So, I packed my bags and went to Emberwood, alone.

The moment I boarded the plane, my phone started buzzing. It was Natalie. The call rang for what felt like an eternity. I didn’t pick up, even as a flight attendant politely reminded me that the plane was about to take off and I needed to turn off my phone. Right before shutting it down, a text came through from her: “I’ll only say this once—stop being dramatic and come back when you’re done.” I stared at that single line of text, and suddenly, memories from four years ago came rushing back. Four years ago, I’d been with Natalie for just over a year when I first heard about Andrew Shen. Her Andrew. That night, I drank too much at a bar, and for the first time, I lost my temper with her. She was in her study, working as always. Sitting behind that massive desk, she was conducting a video call for some international meeting. The glow from her monitor lit up her sharp, elegant features, making her look as distant as she was breathtaking. I stumbled in, drunk and reeking of whiskey. Natalie had a strict rule: no one was allowed to bother her while she worked. But that night, emboldened by alcohol and jealousy, I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her close. I kissed the sensitive curve of her collarbone, then asked, half-resentful and half-petty, “What’s more important, Natalie? Work or me?” For the first time, she got angry. She looked up at me with those cold, piercing eyes and said, “Get out. I’m working.” When I didn’t move, she called her bodyguards. They dragged me out of the house, and I was left standing outside in the middle of the night, furious with myself for pushing her. The gated community was isolated, the kind of place where even streetlights felt like a luxury. My phone was dead, and my only company was a pack of cigarettes I burned through one by one. By the fifteenth cigarette, Natalie showed up. She walked toward me in nothing but a silk camisole, her expression unreadable. “Have you had enough?” she asked sharply. I bit down on the cigarette she hated most and opened my mouth to say something snarky—only to sneeze. That must’ve been the breaking point. She laughed. A real, unguarded laugh. For the first time, she reached out to me, her hand extended. But my pride got the better of me, and I brushed her off. Her hand froze midair before she pulled it back, her face hardening. “I’ll say this one more time,” she said. “When you’re done acting like a child, come home.” And then she turned and left. I called after her, “Give me my car keys!” She didn’t even glance back. “Jonathan, the car is mine. If you’re not coming back, don’t even think about taking it.” That was the moment I realized what I was to her. The car I drove, the watch on my wrist, the designer suits in my closet—they were all hers. When she turned back again and extended her hand a second time, I took it. That night, I became the perfect, obedient companion she wanted. And I stayed by her side for the next five years. I deleted her text and turned off my phone. Two hours later, I landed at Emberwood International Airport. Of course, my bad luck didn’t end there. No sooner had I arrived than my wallet was stolen. At the police station, the officers eyed me suspiciously, their gazes lingering on my expensive clothes and accessories. Their expressions practically screamed, If someone’s going to get robbed, it might as well be you. Without money, proper ID, or any way to prove who I was, I was stuck. The officers handed me a phone and told me to call someone to help. But who could I call? My parents died when I was young, and my grandmother raised me on her own. She passed away before she could enjoy any of the success I might’ve brought her. Natalie had entered my life that same year, a radiant light piercing through the darkness of my world. With no other choice, I called her. The sound of the international dial tone stretched on, each ring a cruel reminder that the light she once brought into my life had long since faded. Matthew’s number escaped me, and the police officers’ patience was wearing thin. Just as I was about to give up, a young woman approached me. Her name was Helen. She was at the police station by chance that day, and when she saw me sitting alone, looking lost and out of place, she decided to help. Helen helped me sort everything out with the officers. When we left the station, I got a new phone number and made the decision to cut all ties with Natalie. But even then, I couldn’t escape her entirely. Every so often, I’d see her name online: Natalie, shopping with Andrew, his gaze soft and adoring. Natalie and Andrew, cutting the ribbon at the grand opening of a new hotel. Natalie and Andrew, preparing for their upcoming wedding—a match made in heaven. I stayed in Emberwood. Helen and I became friends. With her help, I found a job at a trading company. It wasn’t easy. After five years of being Natalie’s kept man, I’d forgotten how to fend for myself. The language barrier was frustrating. The work was grueling. But Helen was always there, supporting me. We were two lonely souls in a foreign land, leaning on each other to survive. But no one tells you that when two broken people come together, the loneliness doesn’t just disappear. One night, during Emberwood’s lantern festival, I asked her, “Why did you decide to stay here?” She looked at me, her eyes heavy with sorrow. The night sky was filled with glowing lanterns, their golden light reflecting off her sharp features. Finally, she told me her story. She had come to Emberwood with her boyfriend. He’d always wanted to see the lanterns. But he never got the chance—he died in her arms before they could experience it together. “People say if you make a wish to the lanterns, it’ll come true,” she said softly. I knew she was thinking of him. For the first time, I wanted to believe in something greater than myself. I clasped my hands together, gazing up at the endless sea of lanterns, and made my wish: I wished to forget Natalie.

Life went on. Work was hectic, and sometimes I had to deal with my sleazy boss. He was gay and made no attempt to hide his interest in me. He’d find any excuse to touch me or crack inappropriate jokes under the guise of “work.” One time, Helen came to pick me up from the office and, seeing the situation, casually introduced herself as my girlfriend. From that day on, the harassment stopped completely, and I finally had some peace. I’d been living in Emberwood for nearly two years when my company assigned me to a project in Starfall. Within days, I packed my things and boarded a flight with a few colleagues. The moment the plane touched down, representatives from the partner company were already waiting for us at the airport to escort us to the hotel. When we arrived, I froze at the entrance. It was the same hotel Natalie and I had stayed at countless times. The memories I thought I’d buried surged forward like a tidal wave, overwhelming me. It wasn’t until I saw the receptionist behind the front desk—a stranger, not the familiar face I dreaded—that I finally relaxed. “Welcome, Mr. Baker. Welcome, Ms. Cooper…”

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I grew up with Nora Shaw in an orphanage. We met, became friends, fell in love, and got married. Shortly after she gave birth to our child, her biological parents found her, and she became the only daughter of the Sanders family. Our son received an elite education from a young age and took on the Sanders surname. Years later, when I handed Nora the divorce papers, She seemed impatient and asked why. I calmly replied: “Because last night, the dinner I made got cold.” Nora Shaw and I grew up together in an orphanage. We met, became friends, fell in love, and got married. Shortly after she gave birth to our son, her biological parents found her. She became the only daughter of the Sanders family. Our son received an elite education from a young age and took on the Sanders surname. Years later, when I handed Nora the divorce papers, she seemed impatient and asked why. I replied calmly, “Because last night, the dinner I made got cold.” “You want to leave with nothing?” Nora asked, her eyes not leaving her phone screen. Her company was about to go public. I used to be proud of her changes, but now all that’s left is a shattered dream. “I’m giving up custody of Zach Sanders,” I said. “Before we got married, I only had that small apartment. That’s all I want to keep.” Mentioning our former cramped living space made Nora’s expression soften slightly. “Are you still upset about Luke Parker driving me home yesterday? He’s just a business associate.” Yeah, a “friend” who knows you’re married but still pursues you relentlessly. I didn’t respond, just looked at Nora. It had been a long time since I had the chance to really look at her. Nora was impeccably dressed, with pink diamond earrings worth several months of our old expenses. In just a few years, everything had changed. Seeing me shake my head, she asked impatiently why I wanted a divorce. I replied calmly, “Because last night, the dinner I made got cold.” Before Nora was found by the Sanders family, I was a full-time novelist, and my only hobby was cooking. Nora studied finance and had a low starting salary. She worked hard and often skipped meals. I would pack food for her every day and bring it to her. She always said it was the best food she’d ever eaten. After Nora was found by the Sanders family, she insisted on keeping her surname and refused to divorce me. I continued to prepare three meals a day for her, just like before. The first year, she told me she wanted to eat my cooking for the rest of her life. But after a few years, she came home drunk, brought back by a suitor. I took her from the man’s shoulder and urged her to eat something to settle her stomach. Looking at the food I had prepared, she said with disgust, “We have professional chefs at home. You don’t need to do this every day.” “Why don’t you go work at the company like I asked? Are you always this idle?” I didn’t like business and didn’t want to get involved with the Sanders family’s enterprises. Zach was very attached to her and only came down to eat when he heard her voice. I handed him the food, but he shook his head. I asked why he wouldn’t eat. Nora thought my tone was too harsh: “He likes gourmet food, not ordinary dishes. What’s the problem?” Feeling emboldened by his mother’s support, Zach pushed the bowl hard. The porcelain bowl shattered, and the hot soup scalded my arm. Nora hugged the child and comforted him softly. Then she turned to me and said, “Just have the maid clean it up. I’m tired.” Looking at Nora’s confused expression, I didn’t bother to explain further. In her eyes, only the flow of millions of dollars in capital mattered now. As for Zach, he couldn’t care less about this situation. He had been exposed to elite education from a young age and had dreamed more than once of having a more impressive father. A man who could dominate the business world, not someone who liked to cook in the kitchen. In the daylight, Nora finally noticed the burn on my arm. She called Zach over: “Dad got hurt last night. Go comfort him.” Zach was eloquent in various speech competitions, but he always disdained to speak in front of me. I never had a father, so I thought that investing enough care would earn my child’s love. But the fact proved that I didn’t have this gift. Zach just looked at me coldly. Apart from the few times he called me “Dad” when he was learning to talk, I never heard him call for me again. “You don’t deserve to be my dad,” he said. Nora lightly tapped Zach’s nose as a form of punishment. “The old apartment is too run-down. It’ll take some time to process the paperwork, so you can still stay here for now,” she said. “Don’t you love the cookware set I gave you? It would be a shame to take it with you.” I had packed my things last night, just one suitcase. “That cookware set can be thrown away if no one uses it,” I replied. Suddenly, I found it amusing. The Sanders family had people specially preparing and delivering meals. If it weren’t for me, this residence wouldn’t even need to consider a kitchen, let alone have an expensive set of cookware. “Are you going back to the old apartment?” Nora asked. “I can have Uncle Wang drive you.” I declined, looking at the mother and son with a smile: “You two are allergic to many things. Remember to have the family doctor check and inform the chefs.” With that, I turned and left, not looking back at the two people I once loved most in this world. I didn’t go straight back to the old apartment. Instead, I went to the orphanage, the place that raised me. Nora and I had talked about coming here together. But the Sanders family probably thought it wasn’t glamorous enough, and the plan was postponed again and again. Over the years, I had been donating part of my writing income to the orphanage. As soon as I entered, the director recognized me. She didn’t know about my divorce from Nora yet, and she reminisced about when we were kids. Nora and I grew up here. She was a year younger than me, and we were both small back then. The director suddenly pointed to the kitchen, saying I used to watch the cook intently, wanting to cook for myself. Nora didn’t like rosemary, and the orphanage’s conditions didn’t allow children to be picky. But later, whenever I cooked, I would secretly leave out the rosemary. The director’s sudden reminiscence sparked my interest, and I took on the task of being the chef for lunch that day. I lit the fire, chopped vegetables, and made soup. Several children gathered around me, chattering: “A brother who can cook is so cool!” “It smells so good! I want to be a chef when I grow up! Give me ten stars, all of you!” Amidst these praises, I remembered the first time I met Nora’s parents. Nora was even more nervous than I was. When they heard that my profession was writing and my hobby was cooking, if it weren’t for their inherent wealthy manners and the guilt of owing their daughter so much, they would have practically written “please leave” on their faces. Mr. Sanders only said, “What use is it for a man to cook?” Word spread quickly in their circle, and suddenly Nora had many more relatives and friends. Every one who came to visit would tease Nora when they saw me cooking: “Your husband is quite rare, he can actually cook.” Luke Parker also frowned and expressed concern: “Nora, doesn’t your husband smell like food? Can you sleep well at night?” After hearing these jokes too many times, Nora couldn’t keep face anymore. But she still cared about my feelings and only told me gently: “When friends come over in the future, let the staff cook.” “The Sanders family can afford to hire chefs.” Zach was also influenced by this: “My dad isn’t just some smelly cook who only knows how to make food.” “You’re so embarrassing. My dad should be a great hero.” I stayed at the orphanage for a few days before returning to my old apartment. Suppressing the memories that seemed to be everywhere, I started clearing things out. When Nora was found by her birth family, the Sanders told us not to bring anything, as they had everything the child would need. All the furnishings in the old house were frozen in time from that day. I thought I had won the lottery, but it turned out to be the moment I woke up from a beautiful dream. After clearing out everything related to Nora, I fell asleep and didn’t wake up until noon. I found over a dozen missed calls on my phone, all from Nora. As I was checking my phone, an unknown number called: “Hello, is this Zach Sanders’ father?” “I’m Zach’s homeroom teacher. The child refuses to eat lunch in the cafeteria, saying his father usually packs lunch for him.” The voice paused, then politely asked again: “Did you forget it’s the first day of school?” I frowned, not understanding what Zach was up to. Zach attended the best elementary school in the country, where the cafeteria not only focused on taste but also on nutritional balance. Moreover, the few times I had packed lunch for him, he had brought it back untouched. “Hello, teacher. He doesn’t need my packed lunches. From now on, it should be the family chef taking care of his meals,” I said calmly. I added, “I’m no longer Zach Sanders’ father. For his matters, you can contact his mother directly. There’s no need to bother me anymore.” Perhaps the teacher had me on speakerphone, and Zach was standing right beside her, hearing everything clearly. I heard a sudden exclamation from the other end: “Zach, don’t run!” The teacher quickly apologized to me before hanging up. I thought back to my childhood, wondering if I ever had such an unpredictable adolescence. But Zach’s emotions had always been quite stable, actually. His grandparents didn’t want him to stay with me, so they would take him back every summer vacation. Zach’s attitude towards me grew colder and colder. At first, he would still ask me: “Why do you always do the servants’ work?” “Don’t you feel like you’re wasting your time and value?” “Why can other uncles fly planes, but you only know how to cook at home?” Later, he refused to communicate with me at all. I only learned about his school tasks through the parent group chat. He didn’t care about this at all, and the Sanders elders were happy to see Zach distancing himself from me. I hung up the phone and went shopping at the mall. As I was carefully comparing products, Nora called: “What did you say to Zach? He refuses to eat.” “Can you come back? The child still needs you.” I heard a deep male voice in the background: “Let’s take Zach to my newly opened French restaurant.” Nora seemed to move away from him, and when no one was around, she continued: “That was a business partner. Do you know where my allergy medicine is? The chef didn’t know I’m allergic to carrots.” I heard a hint of grievance in her voice and frowned helplessly: “Nora, if you can’t find something, just order it online or have the staff buy it. It’ll be faster than waiting for my call.” “I told you to have a doctor test you and Zach for allergies to avoid situations like this.” Nora was silent for a moment: “Can you send your recipes to the chef? Great-grandpa really misses your cooking.” “What about Zach’s family assignments? Are you not going to handle them anymore? I’m usually busy at the company.” At the mention of Great-grandpa, my heart immediately softened. He was the only elder in the Sanders family who truly supported me and really liked my cooking. But I didn’t want to get more entangled with the Sanders family: “You can find common home-style recipes online easily.” “Nora, the child never acknowledged me as his father, and you know that very well.” “I need to start my own new life. Don’t bother me anymore, all of you. Take care.”

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After five years of marriage, I finally got pregnant with our child. Excited, I rushed to share the joyful news with my husband. But his cold response shattered my heart: “I already have Ethan. One child is enough for me.” It wasn’t until I discovered that my husband had been sending flowers to his ex-wife every Valentine’s Day that I realized the truth – he had never forgotten her. He only wanted to have a child with the woman he truly loved. Without hesitation, I made an appointment at the hospital to terminate the pregnancy and handed him the printed divorce papers. “I’m bowing out of this relationship,” I said firmly. When I brought home the pregnancy test results, my husband Jack was helping his son Ethan bake a cake. “Amelia, come look at the fruit Ethan cut himself. Isn’t it great?” Jack said, his eyes full of tenderness as he looked at his son. He really was a good father. For five years, I had countless fantasies about whether Jack would treat our child the same way he treated Ethan if I got pregnant. “Honey, I have great news to tell you!” I exclaimed. Jack smiled and asked, “You look so happy. What is it?” I strode over to Jack’s side and held up the pregnancy test results in front of him. “Jack, I’m pregnant! When the baby is born, Ethan won’t have to play with his toys alone anymore.” Jack’s face suddenly darkened. He coldly replied, “I already have Ethan. One child is enough for me.” Ethan threw a tantrum, smashing the finished cake onto the floor. Cream splattered everywhere in an instant. “Dad! If Amelia gets pregnant, I’ll leave! I’ll go live with Mom! Mom said that if Amelia gets pregnant, you won’t love me anymore!” Ethan cried loudly. Jack quickly hugged Ethan to comfort him. “Dad promised Mom that he only needs you as his child, okay?” Only then did Ethan stop crying. He turned and glared at me hatefully several times. I couldn’t pretend it didn’t hurt. After five years of marriage, hadn’t Jack ever thought about having a child that belonged to us? Perhaps noticing my disappointment, Jack sighed, “Amelia, I’m not ready for another child yet. Can you give me some time?” I silently returned to our bedroom to adjust my emotions. On the nightstand was the model airplane Jack had made for Ethan, along with the scarf he had knitted for him by hand. I didn’t know how to describe the feeling in my heart. I collapsed onto the bed, gently rubbing my belly. He only wanted Ethan. What about our child? Feeling upset and restless, I fell asleep for the entire afternoon for the first time. When I woke up, Jack was sitting by the bed holding a jewelry box. “Amelia, I’m very sorry about what happened today. I bought a necklace while you were sleeping. Let me put it on you,” Jack said as he opened the jewelry box. Inside was a shiny gold necklace. He brushed my hair to the side and fastened the necklace around my neck. “Amelia, your health has always been delicate. Childbirth carries higher risks for you, so I’m more worried about you. I don’t take what my ex-wife says seriously. That’s just Ethan, right? I’m afraid he’ll overthink things,” Jack explained. Seeing that I was still upset, he continued, “My ex-wife left me when I was at my lowest point. You’ve been by my side this whole time. You’re the one I love most. Don’t think too much about it.” I remembered the year I met Jack. He couldn’t even afford $300 and was struggling to make ends meet while raising Ethan. After marrying him, I sold my dowry to raise funds for his business startup. As he earned more and more money, he treated me impeccably well. Afraid that Ethan would reject me, Jack would actively try to improve the relationship between Ethan and me.

I softened my heart once again. Since Jack took the initiative to explain things to me, I had no reason to dwell on it further. Just as I was about to say something, Jack’s phone rang. He glanced at it and walked to the balcony to answer the call. I don’t know why, but I could clearly sense that Jack’s mood had changed. After hanging up, Jack suddenly changed his tune: “Amelia, let’s have the baby. After all, it’s our flesh and blood. I’ll take care of you and make sure you deliver this child safely.” I nodded slightly, but something still felt off. That night, Jack cooked dinner himself. He even took a photo of the pregnancy test results and posted it on social media. But it was because of this pregnancy announcement that my mother-in-law showed up at our door. “I was wondering why Ethan has been so unhappy lately. So it’s because you vixen got pregnant with Jack’s child! You have such evil intentions! Are you trying to use the baby to trap Jack?” my mother-in-law accused me as soon as she arrived. She didn’t like me because when Jack married me, he was broke. My parents asked Jack to at least contribute something financially for the wedding. My mother-in-law had been holding this small issue against me for a long time. She was convinced that I had deliberately made things difficult for Jack. Now she was using this as an excuse to berate me again. “I only recognize Ethan as my grandson! When my son married Olivia, he didn’t have to spend a penny!” my mother-in-law exclaimed, bringing up Jack’s ex-wife just to upset me. I looked to Jack for help. He sighed, “Mom, Olivia and I broke up ages ago. Let it go.” My mother-in-law’s eyes widened. “But don’t you still like her?” Her words threw my mind into chaos. Part of me wondered if Jack still had feelings for his ex-wife, while another part tried to reassure myself to trust my partner. With a loud bang, Jack kicked over a chair. My mother-in-law was too frightened to make a sound. “Mom! I said, drop it! And don’t bring it up in front of Amelia anymore. It’ll make her overthink things,” Jack said, pinching the bridge of his nose before helping me back to our room to rest. I silently scolded myself. Jack had been so good to me and even stood up for me. How could I doubt him? When I woke up, it was already 11 AM. Jack had just finished bringing out the last dish. “Huh? Don’t you dislike bell peppers? Why did you cook them today?” I asked, confused. After all, Jack had mentioned before that he didn’t like the taste of bell peppers. Before Jack could answer me, the doorbell rang. My mother-in-law immediately went to open the door. It was Ethan and Jack’s ex-wife, Olivia. My mother-in-law said smugly, “Olivia, come in quickly. If you ask me, Jack still cares about you. He specially cooked bell peppers for you. Hurry and try them – see if they taste the same as before!” Jack hurriedly whispered in my ear, “Amelia, I made it for Ethan to see.” Jack reached out to hug me but pulled his hand back, looking apologetic. “Ethan’s here. I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.” The three of them looked like a real family, while I felt like an outsider. But I was Jack’s wife in name. Olivia suddenly looked up at my belly. After a moment, she said, “Once your wife gives birth, I’ll take Ethan away. After all, you’ll have your own child then, so you won’t need to think about my son anymore.” Her words seemed to draw a clear line between her and Jack, but she was actually trying to see how Jack would react. Jack didn’t answer. He just silently put a piece of beef on my plate. But I’m allergic to beef. Olivia gave Jack a long, meaningful look. “Jack Anderson, can you figure out what you really want in your heart?”

Jack’s eyes swept over Olivia like daggers. Olivia laughed recklessly, “Figure it out soon. I have to go now. I’ll leave Ethan with you to take care of for a few days.” Olivia picked up her bag and walked towards the door. Jack glanced at her retreating figure before quickly lowering his head. Ethan stared blankly at Jack and asked, “Dad, Mom said you love her the most. So why are you still with Amelia?” Jack frowned, “What do kids know?” Under the table, Jack gripped my hand tightly to reassure me. My mother-in-law snorted coldly, “Your dad is just trying to make your mom jealous!” I knew my mother-in-law was trying to upset me, but my heart wavered. “I still have some work to finish,” Jack said, putting down his chopsticks and standing up to leave. Ethan tightly grabbed Jack’s sleeve. “Dad, I hate you! Mom is always crying because of you!” The usually gentle Jack suddenly shouted at Ethan, “Go study! If you don’t study until 11 PM, don’t even think about sleeping!” Ethan burst into tears, but Jack remained unmoved. After that day, Jack treated me better and better. To put it dramatically, even if I asked for the stars in the sky, he would be willing to pluck them down for me. When I was one and a half months pregnant, Jack hurriedly threw on a coat late one night to go out. I handed him a thicker jacket. “It’s cold outside. Wear more. Are you going back to the office to deal with work so late?” He suddenly gripped my shoulders seriously and said, “Olivia has a high fever. You know her family isn’t around, so I…” “Go then,” I said. Perhaps because I spoke with no expression, Jack anxiously tried to explain, fearing I would be angry: “I’ll be back soon. I don’t have feelings for her anymore. I’m just taking her to the hospital because she’s Ethan’s mother.” I pushed him out the door, carefully placing the car keys in his hand. The next morning, Jack called me and asked me to bring Ethan to the hospital. Without hesitation, I coaxed Ethan awake and took him to the hospital. “Amelia, you haven’t eaten yet either, right? I’ll go get breakfast for you guys. Wait here for a bit,” Jack said. As soon as Jack left, Olivia pointed to the phone he had left behind on the bedside table. “Jack and I have always been deeply in love. Open our chat history. You’ll see what you want to see,” Olivia said, her words enticing. I couldn’t help but pick up Jack’s phone and unlock it. When I discovered that Jack had sent Olivia flowers every Valentine’s Day since we’d been together, I felt strangely relieved. Ethan pointed at me and laughed, “Mom, look! Amelia’s eyes are red, haha!” The hospital was 20 kilometers from home. I didn’t take a taxi or bus – I walked back on my own two feet. The wind cleared my head as I walked. I calmly drafted a divorce agreement, printed it out, and made an appointment for an abortion. When Jack returned home, he was carrying hot food. “Amelia, why did you leave? You haven’t eaten yet, right? Sit down quickly.” My mother-in-law walked over to me and deliberately glared at me. “Does my son need to feed you with his own hands?” Jack’s face hardened. “Mom, can’t you be nicer to Amelia?” I had no desire to watch Jack act anymore. I handed him the divorce papers. “I’m bowing out of this relationship. The house and car can be mine. After all, you don’t love me, so just compensate me with money. I’ll get rid of the baby. There’s no point in having it.”

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In my previous life, my husband Edward Wilson had saved me first because I was pregnant. By the time he turned back to save his childhood friend, Jessica Mitchell, Jessica had already been bitten by a viper. Edward had hated me ever since. A month later, I was chained up in a secret room with hundreds of vipers roaming the floor. I screamed for help in terror, but Edward’s grim voice came from outside the door. He said, “Elizabeth, you asshole. You got Jessica killed, and I’m going to give you a taste of what it’s like to be bitten by vipers.” In the end, I was bitten by hundreds of vipers, and my body was eaten up. Opening my eyes again, I went back to the day of the encounter. There was a sharp pain coming from my body, and I slowly opened my eyes to find myself at the bottom of a cliff in the forest. If it weren’t for the soft dirt beneath me, I would have died. I was a guide at Ailfa Mount Forest Park and was 12 weeks pregnant. I was supposed to be resting at home, but my husband, Edward Wilson, insisted that I be a guide for his childhood friend, Jessica Mitchell. I was furious. “I’m pregnant now. Why are you making me give Jessica a tour guide?” Edward said, “If Jessica’s personal tour guide hadn’t had a temporary commitment, I wouldn’t be asking you to do this, Elizabeth. Besides, you’re only 12 weeks pregnant. It won’t hurt.” I got angry and said angrily, “I’m not going.” “Go or get a divorce,” said Edward. I could only compromise. In my previous life, I had taken Jessica walking in the safety of the forest park. But she took advantage of my inattention and ran into the primitive forest of Ailfa Mount, which was infested with poisonous insects, miasma, and crisis. I couldn’t leave her alone and had to chase after her. When I came to a cliff, Jessica said that there seemed to be a person at the bottom of the cliff, so I went over to look. But she suddenly pushed me off the cliff. Jessica said, “Elizabeth, go to hell. As long as you die, I can be with Edward.” Luckily, the bottom of the cliff was soft dirt, and I survived. I endured the excruciating pain and groped for half an hour on the ground full of rotten and withered leaves before I finally found the micro-recorder. In my previous life, after I awakened, I had been eager to save myself. Only after I was saved did I realize that the micro-recorder was gone. Without the micro recorder, no matter how I explained the truth, Edward just didn’t believe me. I took a closer look at the micro-recorder and was relieved to find that it was not broken. I had a habit of taking the recorder with me when I did one-on-one guided tours so that I could have proof if something happened that I couldn’t explain. The one thing I could be sure of now was that Jessica had dared to kill me in the primeval forest because she had traveled this road with her private guide. But she overestimated herself. The primeval forest of Ailfa Mount was like a labyrinth. Even if she had walked through it dozens of times, she would still get lost, let alone without a guide, which was why she was also in danger. After I bandaged my injured leg at the bottom of the cliff, I immediately followed the route I had taken in my previous life to leave the mountain. In this life, I didn’t want anything to do with Edward and wouldn’t ask him for help. Coming to the tree I had seen in my previous life, I realized that there were two paths in front of me. In my previous life, I chose the left one, which led to getting lost before I asked Edward for help. In this life, I chose the right path and headed for the right side. After I had walked 1250 yards, there was a sudden chill of cold air in front of me, and then I realized that a white mist had risen from the ground. I hastily retreated. The white mist was miasma, and I would die if I inhaled it. I was forced to the tree again. Looking at the time, it was already past three in the afternoon. Ailfa Mount would be dark by five. At night, Ailfa Mount was infested with poisonous insects and wild animals, and it was very cold. It would be dangerous for me to lose my warmth. I had no choice but to take the left side of the road. After an hour or so, it was dark. I climbed up a tree and looked for a signal source. At this time, my cell phone battery was only 2% left. Luckily, as in my previous life, I got through to Edward at the last minute. “Edward, I’m in distress, probably southeast of Ailfa Mount, within 9100 yards upstream of Snake Lake. Come and help me,” I yelled. Edward said, “How could you, as a veteran guide at Ailfa Mount, not get out? You’re such a vicious woman. How dare you take Jessica into the primeval forest of Ailfa Mount? Do you want to kill Jessica? I know what’s in your mind. Don’t pretend to be lost. I’ll settle the score with you when you get out. Right now, I’m going to save Jessica.”

With that, Edward hung up. I froze. What was going on? In my previous life, he would have obviously come to my rescue first, and he didn’t say those words. After thinking for a moment, I suddenly understood. Edward had also been reborn. This time, he chose to save Jessica first. I tried to call the rescue center, but my phone was dead. I felt a wave of fear enveloped me. On all sides were interlocking and strange trees, and the weird noises were emanating from the gloom. I couldn’t delay any longer and had to get out of the mountain quickly. At the moment, I was lost in reverse, but I had to keep going. My injured leg went from pain to numbness. As I walked, it got dark. I was exhausted. The water and food in my backpack had been eaten up by Jessica not long into the primeval forest of Ailfa Mount. I sat on the ground panting heavily as the temperature reached 23 degrees Fahrenheit and the branches of the trees lit up with eerie silver “lights”. They were night birds staring at me. In the distance, there was a horrible hissing of wild animals. I was a bit desperate, not knowing whether I could get out alive. Just then, a few lights penetrated through. It was the rescue team coming. “Elizabeth, why aren’t you out yet?” The two team members who came, Henry Carter and Kevin Parker, were Edward’s men. “Henry, Kevin, it’s good you’re here. Hurry up and get me out of here,” I said breathlessly. “But we have a mission. Edward told us to search and rescue Jessica,” said Henry. “Aren’t you guys going to rescue me?” I questioned. At that moment, Henry’s satellite phone rang, and it was Edward calling. Edward asked, “Did you two find Jessica?” Henry replied, “Edward, we didn’t find Jessica, but we did find Elizabeth. Should we take Elizabeth out first?” “Don’t bother with her. She’s just trying to delay you guys from getting to Jessica. You guys hurry and head downstream to Snake Lake,” said Edward anxiously. “Henry, Kevin, I’m really dying. Why don’t one of you two take me out first, and the rest of you keep looking for Jessica?” I pleaded. “Elizabeth, the rescue team has a rule that two people are required for an action. Going alone would be dangerous,” explained Henry. “Elizabeth, our whole team knows that you hate Jessica. But you went too far this time. How could you take Jessica into the primeval forest? You should know very well the danger of Ailfa Mount.” Kevin complained about me for Jessica. Henry said, “Kevin is right. Elizabeth, you really went too far this time. If anything happens to Jessica, you are legally responsible. “Also, how could you get lost? You’re the guide of Ailfa Mount. You should be more familiar with the geography here than us.” I was a guide for the Ailfa Mount attractions, not for the Ailfa Mount primeval forest. Henry said, “Elizabeth, stop pretending.” “I’m not pretending. Can’t you guys see that my leg is hurt?” I said angrily. Henry looked at my leg and said, “Then you wait for us here, and we’ll go search and rescue Jessica first.” Wait? How long would I have to wait? I didn’t know if Jessica had been bitten by a snake right now. If a snake had bitten her, they would have waited in place for a helicopter rescue. At that time, would they be able to come back and rescue me? I said, “Give me water, food, and an outdoor jacket, and I’ll get out on my own.” I decided to save myself. After giving me the supplies, they both continued to swim down towards Snake Lake. I was less tired after I put on the outdoor jacket, drank water, and ate cookies. I couldn’t continue walking at night. A campfire was built, and I was too wary to sleep. Just after six in the morning, a faint bright light shone through the cracks in the branches of the trees to the ground, and I started to move. After six hours of walking, I finally made it to the exit. Just at the moment of relief, the stabbing pain in my leg and exhaustion suddenly hit me, and I passed out.

When I woke up, I found myself in the hospital at the Ailfa Mount. “Elizabeth, would you like some water?” A girl asked me. “Kayla?” She was Kayla Watson, my coworker. She had happened to find me fainting at the exit and took me to the hospital. “How did you get into the primeval forest?” asked Kayla, puzzled. I said, “It’s complicated.” Just then, Edward’s voice came from the corridor. “Where is she?” Kayla immediately walked over. “Edward, your wife is here.” The door to the ward was open. I looked over at Edward, and his eyes were so cold. A man said, “Edward, Jessica is in Ward 8.” “How is she?” Edward asked. The man replied, “She’s fine, just losing her warmth.” “That’s good.” Edward went straight to Ward 8. Kayla was shocked. “Why didn’t your husband come in to see you?” I smiled bitterly and didn’t explain. The next day at noon, I saw Edward walking through the corridor with a lunch box. He didn’t even glance toward me as if I didn’t exist. I had bought that lunchbox. I would often go to the rescue unit to bring food to Edward. Now, he was carrying my lunchbox and delivering food to his beloved. It was kind of ironic! I was getting ready for bed around ten o’clock at night when Jessica pushed open the door and came in. I asked, “What do you want?” Jessica said wickedly, “I really didn’t think you were so tough that falling off a cliff didn’t kill you.” I said, “Are you going to turn yourself in, or am I going to call the police on you?” Jessica laughed, “Do you have any evidence? Who would believe you?” “There’s always a day when the truth is revealed,” I said. Jessica said smugly, “The truth? The truth right now is that you took me into Ailfa Mount and tried to kill me. I desperately ran away from you and was saved. “By the way, are you having a hard, aggravating time right now? Edward chose to save me instead of you.” After experiencing my previous life, I was now utterly disappointed in Edward. If I hadn’t encountered the miasma, I wouldn’t have asked Edward for help. “Have you finished? Get out when you’re done,” I said in a cold voice. Just then, the sound of steady, heavy footsteps came from the corridor. The footsteps were all too familiar to me. It was Edward. Suddenly, Jessica slapped herself. Then, she collapsed on the floor and looked at me with tears in her eyes. “Edward and I are just friends, Elizabeth. I can understand that you don’t believe me. But why did you hit me?” The door to my ward was pushed open. Edward dropped the food he was holding and ran over, heartbroken, to help Jessica up. “Elizabeth, you’re a mean, vicious bitch. Jessica wasn’t wrong. Why did you hit her? Don’t you realize she hasn’t recovered from the distress?” “Did I not get in distress? Did I recover physically?” I asked. Edward said, “You deserved it. If you hadn’t lured Jessica inside the primeval forest, not so much would have happened.” “Do you believe anything she says?” I questioned. Edward said firmly, “Yes, Jessica doesn’t lie.” I roared, “Fine. I don’t want to argue with you guys. You’re both assholes. Get the fuck out of here. I don’t want to see either of you.” “My face hurts.” Jessica cried, covering her cheek in aggravation. Edward was outraged and reached out to slap me hard. I was dazed from the slap and stumbled, falling to the ground. A sharp pain came from my belly. Looking between my legs, I realized that blood was flowing out.

After coming out of the emergency room, the doctor told Edward and I that the baby was fine. “You rest easy and nurse the baby. Deal with our marriage after the baby is born,” said Edward icily. “Do you still care about the baby?” I sneered. Edward said, “Of course. The baby is my bloodline. How could I not care?” His words were so ironic. In my previous life, he had ignored the fact that I was pregnant, locked me up in a secret room full of poisonous snakes, let me be bitten alive by the snakes, and then watched as the already-formed child and I were eaten clean by the snakes. But in this life, he cared about the baby. After Edward left, I approached the doctor. “Doctor, please perform an abortion on me.” I thought, “My child, don’t blame me for being cruel. Even if I give birth to you, you won’t be happy. Living a new life, I don’t want to have any involvement or ties with Edward. Forgive me, my child.” After being discharged from the hospital, I returned home and opened my computer to draft the divorce agreement. Just after ten in the evening, Edward came home. “I have something to say to you.” We both surprisingly spoke in unison. “Go ahead,” I said. Edward said, “Tomorrow, I’ll take you to Jessica to apologize, and you’ll have to beg her forgiveness.” I laughed, “Are you insane? Are you asking me to beg her for forgiveness?” “Shouldn’t it be? Jessica and I are just friends. I just think of her as a sister. But you’re so petty and vicious that you always think Jessica and I have something to hide,” said Edward stubbornly. “Are you sure you really just see Jessica as a sister? What sister would ask you to go to her room in the middle of the night to install a light? What sister would come to my house when I’m on a business trip and watch TV in your arms in a miniskirt?” I retorted. Edward blushed, obviously knowing I was right. “Regardless, it was your fault for luring Jessica into the primeval forest of Ailfa Mount this time. You were so evil that you tried to get Jessica killed. Shouldn’t you apologize?” He said loudly. I was furious and took out my micro-recorder, placing it in front of him, then roared, “See for yourself exactly who harmed whom.”

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The day I was diagnosed with kidney failure, my wife, Lydia, was celebrating the release of her first love, Asher Williams, from prison. And on the day I passed away, Lydia and Asher jetted off to a tropical island together. She often hurled insults at me, saying, “You filthy pig farmer, go die somewhere far away.” Yet when I actually died, she lost her mind and cut off Asher’s hand, screaming, “Give me back my husband’s healthy body!” How ironic. She had never once called me her husband before. Love that arrives too late is truly pitiful. 0 After two grueling days at the farm, I received a call from the doctor. His voice was somber, confirming what I had already suspected. Leaning against the fold-out bed in the break room, I caught a glimpse of myself in the window’s reflection. My shirt was drenched in sweat, and my face was swollen, almost unrecognizable. Wes, my colleague, came in with a pot of water. He hesitated before speaking, “Brother Michael, why don’t you head home to rest? Your absence for days might worry your wife, Lydia.” Would Lydia really be concerned? I mulled over his words, a bitter smile crossing my lips. If I vanished, she might just relish her newfound freedom. I checked my phone: three ads for loans, two scam warnings, and a missed call from my mother. I called her back. She asked about my health check-up. In simple terms: death was knocking at my door. One kidney was already gone, and the remaining one was failing. The doctor insisted I needed immediate dialysis. But I didn’t tell her the truth. Five years ago, after being stabbed, losing a kidney, my mother couldn’t sleep, her hair turning gray almost overnight as she searched for a kidney for me. What was Lydia doing then? She cried every day at the hospital, pleading leniency for the man who stabbed me—her first love, Asher Williams. She claimed the Williams family wanted to settle privately, urging me to let it go. Five million. That was the price for my half-year hospital stay, two brushes with death, and a lost kidney. Back then, it felt like a fortune. I still remember Lydia’s expression when I refused to settle. She looked at me like I was the one who had been stabbed, glaring at her enemy. Finally, she spoke with humiliation, “What good does it do to oppose Asher Williams? His family is powerful; can you compete? Since you like me, let’s get married, and you take the settlement.” In the end, I seemed like the villain bullying a girl, while Asher was her childhood sweetheart. Yet back then, I was overjoyed. I even thought trading a kidney for love was worth it. But reality was harsh. Lydia quickly married me, and I took the settlement money. Still, Asher Williams was sentenced to five years. When Lydia found out, she called me shameless. I didn’t argue. It was already a light sentence. But she blamed it all on me. If I hadn’t pandered to her, she wouldn’t have stayed with someone as shameless as me. I was drowning in bitter memories when a bank alert woke me up. [Your account 8174 spent 678 RMB on a travel website on August 25 at 7:25 AM…] I frowned. This was Lydia’s card; she frequently used it for travel. The date made me uneasy. I called her, and after a long wait, she answered. I heard a taxi driver’s voice in the background. My heart sank, “Where are you going?” “Why do you care?” she replied, her tone impatient. “I’m your husband!” I shouted, for the first time raising my voice at her. “Are you going to see Asher Williams? He nearly killed me, and you still can’t let him go?” My words struck a nerve, triggering an explosive reaction in Lydia. She sneered, “You deceitful scoundrel, what right do you have to meddle in my affairs with him?” My vision blurred, my temples pounding, “I’ll work hard to give you a better life, just don’t go to him… I’m not feeling well…” “You filthy pig farmer, go die somewhere far away.” The call ended abruptly. Wes hurried over, calling my name. As I fainted, one thought lingered. If I truly died, would Lydia be sad? 0

When I regained consciousness, the familiar scent of disinfectant filled my nose. My mother was outside the door, crying softly. She knew about my condition. I wondered how much more her hair would turn white this time. I sighed silently. My sister was comforting her. I wanted to get up and see them, but my body felt like it was pierced by spikes, unable to move. The sound of the dialysis machine was my lifeline. Not long after, I heard my sister making a call. “Lydia, my brother is in a coma in the hospital, and you’re out having fun. Do you even have a heart?” I didn’t hear the response, but my sister was furious. “My brother could have raised a dog for five years and developed feelings for it. If it weren’t for him, you would have been ruined by Asher Williams five years ago. How do you even deserve to be my sister-in-law?” Her voice faded away. I recalled the life-and-death struggle in the hospital. Five years, over eighteen hundred days, and I couldn’t warm her heart. The idea of time breeding affection was just a consolation for the disillusioned. How laughable. During the week I spent recovering in the hospital, my mother and sister took turns staying with me. I tried to forget everything related to Lydia. When Wes brought the farm’s accounts to me, my sister scolded him harshly. “You’ve been with my brother for three years; haven’t you learned anything? Even if my brother turns to ashes, you have to burn paper for him and ask how to handle a sow’s premature birth, right?” I smiled, making “ho ho” sounds, trying to smooth things over. Wes was solid and reliable, and my sister was almost ready to marry him; I didn’t want to cause a rift because of myself. During this time, Lydia called. My sister was on high alert. I stared at the flashing number, deep in thought, and wrote a note on the whiteboard for my sister to relay. The call connected, and her familiar soft voice came through: “What do you want?” After waking up, I called her over ten times, but she never answered. Now, she finally remembered me. My sister snorted coldly: “You’re really busy; we won’t serve you anymore. Just divorce my brother and get out of the Johnson family.” There was a long pause on the other end, “Let Michael Johnson tell me that himself. If there’s nothing else, I’ll hang up. I’ll be back on Sunday, tell him not to pick me up.” “Lydia, you…” I patted my sister, calming her down. She leaned on the bed, upset. “Brother, make sure she leaves with nothing. Asher Williams is out, and Lydia deserves a jerk for a match. “Brother, you have to be okay, wait for Lydia to regret it, and slap her hard in the face.” She forced a smile, but her eyes, swollen like walnuts, were brimming with tears. Both kidneys failed, along with acute heart failure. I became a mummy on the hospital bed, skin gray, unable to speak or walk. The only thing I could give Lydia was the freedom she always wanted. The lawyer soon came to finalize the divorce agreement, including my will. When I could no longer sit up, I refused dialysis and wanted to be discharged. The house was filled with new roses. On Valentine’s Day, Lydia threw aside the bag I gave her, saying everyone else had 999 roses. Later I bought roses, and she scolded me for having no originality, tossing them all away. I knew she liked them, so I picked them up and kept them alive. In college, I also gave her roses, and she happily kissed me. Like clouds brushing across my cheek, leaving a blush. Then Asher Williams appeared, and my world was shrouded in darkness. Roses wilt without water; she wouldn’t see them when she returned. My sister tearfully called me an idiot. I stopped breathing at the end of summer, dying in the twentieth year of knowing Lydia. Flashes of memories crossed my mind, recalling many moments with her. In elementary school, I held her hand to buy candy at the store. In middle school, I helped her with math, and she playfully distracted me with fruit. In college, I pulled her out of a club, and she slapped me, telling me to get lost… 0

It turns out, even in death, I could see myself. I floated in the air, seeing someone lying in the living room, face ashen and swollen like a bloated corpse. I was glad Lydia didn’t see how I looked when I died, thinking this, my soul suddenly drifted to her side. Whenever she returned from a trip, I used to pick her up. This time, she didn’t want me to come because she was with Asher Williams. They were laughing and talking at the airport, not looking like they just returned. Asher had a buzz cut, wore casual clothes, still looking sharp and arrogant. When he looked at Lydia, there was a strong sense of possession in his eyes. Their destination was Hawaii. While I was suffering from illness, they went on a tropical getaway. I couldn’t help but follow Lydia. Asher joked about carrying Lydia’s bag, which she dodged. “Why didn’t you bring the bag I gave you? This bag looks really ugly, did Michael Johnson give it to you? He hasn’t called you in days, is he mad because you came to see me?” Lydia frowned, “Don’t mention him.” Asher’s face lit up with a smug smile, “My bad, I shouldn’t mention the man who stole five years from us. I remember you saying you wanted your honeymoon to be in Hawaii, now our reunion trip isn’t too late.” During my struggle with illness, Lydia and Asher went on a couple’s getaway to an island. I found myself unable to stop tracking Lydia’s actions. Asher Williams cheerfully offered to carry Lydia’s bag, but she sidestepped him. “Why aren’t you using the bag I gave you? This one looks terrible. Did Michael Johnson give it to you? He hasn’t called you in days. Is he upset because you came to see me?” Lydia frowned, “Don’t bring him up.” Asher smirked, “My bad, I shouldn’t have mentioned the guy who took five years from us. I remember you once said you wanted to honeymoon in Hawaii. It’s not too late for our reunion trip now.” Lydia didn’t argue, but she kept glancing at her phone before boarding. Her calendar app reminded her that my birthday was in three days. I had set it up on her phone a month ago after much persuasion. Lydia impatiently swiped away the reminder and boarded the plane with Asher. To them, I was the thief who stole five years of their life. She despised me so much that she didn’t even want to speak my name. I remembered when we first got married, I was so joyful. Even while lying in a hospital bed, I couldn’t wait to plan our honeymoon. I filled a book with plans, including all her favorite foods, hoping to take her to the snowy mountains and grasslands she longed to see. But before I could show her all my love and anticipation, she found my plan book, tore it to pieces, and called me delusional. My joy and love were shredded and trampled under her feet. At that time, my beautiful dream had just begun. How could I let go of the only leading lady in my dream? But reality taught me that unrequited love leads nowhere good. 0

Asher brought Lydia to stay at a beach hotel. To my surprise, a third person joined them on the trip. It was Joan, Lydia’s best friend from college. Through Joan, Asher met Lydia and pursued her relentlessly. Joan mingled in these circles hoping to snag a wealthy husband, and Asher was one of her targets, leading to a fallout between her and Lydia. Back when Asher orchestrated a trap at the club to win over Lydia, Joan tipped me off, which led to my dramatic confrontation at the club. But now, Lydia happily welcomed Joan. Asher’s expression soured. Joan rushed over to hug Lydia, and her eyes gleamed like a bear spotting honey when she glanced at Asher. “Lydia, it’s been ages! How did you know I was dying to come to Hawaii?” As she spoke, her gaze lingered on Asher. Joan’s arrival was unexpected for Asher. The romantic candlelight dinner for two turned into a table for three. Asher ordered sea urchin sashimi for Lydia and wanted to feed her intimately. “Try this, we have plenty of time. I just ordered a cake to celebrate our reunion.” Lydia stiffened for a moment, staring at the dish as if lost in thought. She avoided Asher and said flatly, “Sorry, I’m allergic to seafood. You have it.” I watched her push away the plate of sea urchins and felt it was ironic. The one allergic to seafood was actually me. Lydia used to love seafood, but after we got married, I knew she had a cold uterus, so I often made soup for her and reminded her to eat less seafood. She found my nagging annoying. Now, without my interference, why would she use such a poor excuse to restrict herself? Asher’s face fell. Joan covered her mouth, laughing, eyes full of ridicule, giving Asher an out, “Lydia probably hasn’t had such a seafood feast in a long time. Don’t force it, Asher.” Lydia frowned and focused on cutting the cake. Asher grabbed her hand, “Lydia, how did you burn your hand? That useless Michael, he’ll just stay raising pigs in the countryside forever. You should’ve waited for me.” I instinctively wanted to smack his hand away, but my body passed through their clasped hands. Lydia shook off Asher, “It’s none of your business. Don’t touch me.” “Touch you?” Asher sneered, eyes brewing a storm, “If Michael hadn’t caused trouble and gotten stabbed by me, you’d have been with me long ago. I went to jail for five years because of him!” Lydia stopped, and Asher smiled triumphantly. The atmosphere at the table was tense, and Lydia was forced to drink a lot. Asher moved closer to Lydia, and she didn’t refuse. I felt bitter, but powerless to stop it. Without my interference, they were meant to be together. But the expected result didn’t happen. Asher was the first to get drunk. Lydia, with hazy eyes, looked at Joan, “Joan, we agreed on this…” Joan sneered, “I don’t know what spell you’re under. Asher doesn’t mind being a homewrecker…” Lydia wobbled to stand, and Joan quickly summoned a waiter to help her back to her room. She lay in bed, tapping away on her phone for a while, and sent me a message. 0 Soon, Lydia fell asleep, and I stared at the message. The previous message in our chat was from ten days ago when I told her I had to work overtime at the farm. Going back through dozens of messages, most were me reminding her to eat at work, or delivering warming soup during her period. If she was in a good mood, she’d reply once. Most messages went unanswered. This time, she proactively messaged me about her itinerary. I should be happy, but I can no longer reply to her. In the middle of the night, Lydia’s phone rang, and her sister’s choked voice came through, “Lydia, my brother is dead. Are you satisfied now? “When he was alive, you treated him coldly. Now he’s gone, you won’t even come back to see him?”

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Accompanying my four-month pregnant sister-in-law for her prenatal checkup, we were devastated to find out that the fetus was no longer viable. I strongly urged my sister-in-law to opt for induced labor. She followed my advice and terminated the pregnancy immediately. However, upon learning that the fetus was male, she was filled with regret. When her husband Ethan confronted her, she absolved herself entirely, blaming an erroneous diagnosis by the doctor and claiming I had pressured her into it. Ethan believed her and, accusing me of ending his family line, pushed me off the balcony to my death. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day of the prenatal checkup with my sister-in-law. Smiling, I said, “Olivia, as you mentioned, it could very well be a misdiagnosis. You might want to consider keeping the baby!” …… Olivia, holding the report indicating fetal demise, challenged me: “Look at these tiny letters. Isn’t this my name? How could they say there’s no heartbeat? Did the doctor make a mistake?” “I’m talking to you! Why are you spacing out?” Looking up, I saw my sister-in-law’s worried expression. When I looked down, she thrust the report at me. Seeing the bustling crowd and doctors in white coats around me, the scene felt eerily familiar. Before I could respond, my sister-in-law waved the report in my face, confronting me again: “Sophia, are you even listening? Can’t you just take this?” Instinctively, I took the report from her and glanced at my phone. It hit me—I had been given another chance, back to the day of the prenatal checkup with my sister-in-law. In my previous life, when the doctor discovered the fetal demise, they recommended induced labor. Wanting to protect my sister-in-law, I explained the medical risks of keeping a non-viable fetus and urged her to proceed with induced labor. She looked at the report and, trusting my advice, decided to terminate the pregnancy. But upon seeing the fully formed male fetus, she was stricken with fear and regret. When Ethan arrived at the hospital and learned the fetus was male, he lost control, attacking my sister-in-law and accusing Olivia of ending his son’s life, demanding revenge. Terrified of losing her life and her status as Mrs. Ethan, she pushed all the blame onto me, claiming I had frightened her with a quack doctor’s false diagnosis and pressured her into ending the pregnancy. Ethan directed his fury at me, convinced I intended to wipe out his lineage. He attacked me, choking me hard. I struggled desperately, pleading for mercy. Even my mother-in-law didn’t intervene, taking pleasure in my suffering, saying, “How could you not want my daughter to be well and even harm my precious grandson? You deserve the punishment!” My sister-in-law stood by, allowing me to take the fall, adding fuel to the fire: “Honey, it’s all Sophia’s fault. She pushed me into this. It’s all her doing. Punish her to avenge our son.” Blinded by rage, Ethan only desired my death to avenge his son, choking me and pushing me off the hospital room balcony, leading to my immediate demise. Yet, heaven granted me another chance at life. This time, I wanted to see what would happen if I didn’t persuade her to terminate. Suppressing my inner rage, I calmly told my sister-in-law: “Olivia, the report isn’t mistaken. It really is your name.” Upon hearing the report was hers, my sister-in-law roared in disbelief: “How can this be? Just a few days ago, I could still feel him moving in my belly. This must be a misdiagnosis.” I knew that, regardless of this life or the last, she wanted to keep the child. After all, the child was her bargaining chip, a means to elevate her status. In my previous life, I persuaded her for the sake of her health to agree to induced labor to save her life, but she ended up resenting me for meddling, costing me my life. So in this life, I’ll let her do as she pleases. I followed her train of thought and comforted her: “Right, right, it’s probably a misdiagnosis. You don’t always have to listen to the doctor’s advice for induced labor.” “If there’s a problem with the child in my belly, how could I not know?” “Exactly, that’s why I said it’s probably a misdiagnosis. Doctors make mistakes all the time. You should consider keeping the child.” In this life, I won’t persuade her to abort. If she ends up with a massive hemorrhage, that’s her problem. Let her do as she pleases. Olivia snatched the report from my hand, muttering to herself: “It must be a misdiagnosis. Those quack doctors.” At this point, I naturally fueled the fire, making it burn even brighter so that Olivia would cause a scene at the hospital, scaring the doctors away from treating her. I said to Olivia: “These doctors are unscrupulous. They want you to undergo induced labor, which is practically a death sentence! It’s despicable; they’ll do anything for money. You can’t let this go. You must hold the doctors accountable.” Olivia stormed into the doctor’s office, slamming the test results on the desk. “You heartless quacks! I felt fetal movement just a few days ago, and now you’re telling me the fetus is dead? You must not have checked properly. You want me to abort my child? No way.” The doctor explained: “Based on your results, we’ve confirmed it multiple times. The results are accurate; the fetus has indeed died. That’s why we recommend induced labor.” Olivia grew more agitated, throwing a fit: “What confirmation? You just did a slapdash job! You didn’t check carefully. You’re just after our money. Who knows how accurate this result is?” The doctor remained calm and continued: “We’re a legitimate facility, and our results are based on thorough examinations. We recommend induced labor because carrying a dead fetus poses high risks. A massive hemorrhage could endanger your life. But ultimately, your life is your own, and how you choose to proceed is up to you.” Olivia was fuming, taking a few steps back. Luckily, she sat down on a chair; otherwise, if she had accidentally sat on the floor, who knows whom she would blame next. Not long after, my profit-driven mother-in-law showed up at the hospital. It seems Olivia had already contacted her. She arrived and slapped me twice: “Sophia, why are you so useless, standing there like an idiot? You’re supposed to be taking care of Olivia, but you can’t even help her, letting her be bullied by those unscrupulous doctors. You’re so worthless.” I cried, covering my face, explaining: “Mom, it’s all my fault for being tongue-tied.” “Crying? All you know is how to cry. No wonder the doctors can manipulate you to take your money. You’re useless.” After hitting me, she started causing a scene at the doctor’s office entrance. “Come and see, everyone, look at this heartless hospital, these heartless doctors. They told my daughter the fetus is dead and to induce labor. This is practically murder for money. They’ll do anything for dirty money. I’ve had two kids, all healthy. How could there be so many problems?” My mother-in-law made an unreasonable scene, refusing to listen to the doctor’s explanations and causing a huge ruckus in the doctor’s office. The doctor, overwhelmed by the disruption, finally said: “Just go home. You don’t have to go through with the induced labor. Just don’t make a scene here. I won’t treat you anymore. Do as you please.” With that, we were kicked out of the office. My mother-in-law, not satisfied with her rant, continued muttering curses. As we left, I overheard the doctor muttering: “Ignorant mother and daughter. You’ll pay for the decisions you make today.” After all the ruckus, Olivia seemed exhausted, asking me and my mother-in-law to send her home. Seeing her so fatigued, more so than a typical four-month pregnant woman, I suspected the dead fetus was deteriorating inside her. If not dealt with promptly, I couldn’t imagine what would happen next. However, I’m quite curious to see how she’ll fare living with a dead fetus and what fate awaits her. As soon as we entered Ethan’s Family home, we ran into Ethan, who was about to head out. Seeing us come in, Ethan, as usual, was cold, accusing: “You’re pregnant and still running around outside. If anything happens to the child, I’ll have your head.” Looking at the man before me, I felt an inexplicable fear. In my last life, it was him who, without distinguishing right from wrong, firmly believed I was responsible for the loss of his son, accusing me of wanting to end his lineage. Yet he didn’t know that I advised Olivia to terminate the pregnancy for her health, planning to have children after recovering. He cruelly pushed me off the balcony, ending my life. Before I could gather my thoughts, Olivia, with a smile, approached him: “No, honey. This morning, my mom and the others accompanied me to the prenatal checkup.” Ethan, still in his cold tone, asked: “What did the doctor say?” Facing Ethan, Olivia’s fatigue vanished as she playfully said: “Honey, the doctor said the baby is very healthy and developing well. It’s just that I’m a bit weak as a pregnant woman, and my nutrition isn’t keeping up.” Olivia could lie without batting an eye. My mother-in-law chimed in: I was shoved off the balcony, my life taken away in a cruel twist of fate. Before I could fully grasp what was happening, Olivia flashed a smile and said, “No, sweetie, my mom went with me for a prenatal checkup this morning.” Ethan, maintaining his cold demeanor, questioned, “What did the doctor say?” Olivia, shedding her earlier fatigue, replied sweetly, “Darling, the doctor said the baby is doing well, developing perfectly. It’s just that I’m feeling a bit weak and undernourished.” Olivia was so smooth with her lies that she didn’t even blink. My mother-in-law chimed in, “Son-in-law, you have no idea how much Olivia struggled this morning, waddling around with that belly. Pregnancy is truly exhausting. You mustn’t mistreat her in the future!” Ethan glanced at Olivia’s belly and remarked, “Five million for a son, two million for a daughter. Just focus on your pregnancy.” With that, he left. My mother-in-law was overjoyed, exclaiming, “Oh my, my dear daughter, you’re carrying my grandchild, and that’s five million!” She then turned to me, boasting, “Did you hear that? That’s five million. Why are you just standing there? Can’t you see you should help?” I silently cursed in my heart, “Ha, why drag me into this? Five million, my foot! Dream on; you need a living baby for that.” I deliberately moved slowly towards Olivia, reaching out but not touching her hand. She suddenly collapsed, clutching her belly and crying out, “It hurts, it hurts.” My mother-in-law shoved me aside, causing me to fall heavily to the ground. “Sophia, if anything happens to my grandchild, I’ll hold you responsible, you useless thing.” She even tried to slap me, but Olivia was wailing on the floor. Blood flowed from her thighs, staining her pants. The driver quickly rushed her to the hospital. On the way, Olivia insisted that the previous hospital was trying to exploit her and refused to go back, opting for a different one. “As if switching hospitals would revive the lifeless fetus inside her.” At the hospital, she was rushed into the emergency room. My mother-in-law anxiously paced outside, muttering, “My grandchild, my grandchild, please be okay.” She blamed me, “It’s all your fault. If you had helped Olivia sooner, this wouldn’t have happened. If anything happens to her, see how I deal with you.” A nurse came out with a troubled expression, “The fetus has stopped developing. We need to induce labor.” My mother-in-law panicked, realizing this meant losing her five million. “No, you can’t induce labor. My son-in-law promised five million.” The nurse scolded, “What are you thinking? If the mother hemorrhages, her life is at risk. The fetus has already stopped developing.” “No, no!” “Auntie, is a life or five million more important? When a life is lost, where will the five million come from? Preserving life is crucial.” Both hospitals confirmed the diagnosis, and my mother-in-law had to accept reality. The nurse’s words made her realize she could have many more five-million grandchildren in the future. She quickly agreed to sign. In this new life, I couldn’t let Olivia easily abort the baby. I swiftly took the pen from my mother-in-law’s hand. Pretending to care for Olivia, I said, “Mom, you can’t sign. How can you abort Olivia’s baby? She cares so much about this child. You’re risking her life!” My mother-in-law slapped me again, “Get lost. It’s not your place to decide for my daughter. Let go. I can’t harm my daughter. First, save Olivia. Abort the baby.” “Mom, you must reconsider!” My mother-in-law got the pen back, about to sign, when Olivia’s voice came from the emergency room, “I decide what happens with my child!”

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