Category: English

## When I insisted on the divorce, he was just an ordinary guy with big dreams. Fast forward a few years, he’s now a household name—and married to my former best friend. Meanwhile, I was scraping by, juggling three waitressing jobs just to make ends meet. We crossed paths again at an upscale club. My former friend gave me a pitying look and said, “If you hadn’t been so stubborn about that divorce, you’d be the one living the high life right now. But I guess your luck’s always been just a little off, huh?” He stood there, calm and composed, holding his new wife’s hand like he owned the world. There was a quiet arrogance about him, an unspoken satisfaction in seeing me stuck in the mud while he basked in the glow of success. The crowd joined in, chiming with snide comments and treating me like I was nothing but a cautionary tale. I could see it in his eyes—Ethan Whitmore was enjoying every second of this. He wanted to see me humiliated, crushed, begging for what I’d thrown away. But here’s the thing: I felt nothing. No regret, no shame, no longing. To me, it was like watching a show from the sidelines, completely detached. If he was waiting for me to break, he was in for a disappointment. After setting down the fruit tray, I said politely, “Everything’s here. If there’s nothing else, I’ll be heading out now.” Ethan’s expression stiffened, and he quickly stood up to block my way. This was the first time we’d seen each other since our divorce six years ago. He still hadn’t let go of the fact that I walked out on him, standing there with that unmistakable look—demanding an explanation. And honestly, I knew why it was hard for anyone to understand why I left. Back then, we were the golden couple, the kind of pair our families and friends couldn’t stop gushing over. We married surrounded by blessings and good wishes. Life wasn’t luxurious, but Ethan was known for being reliable and family-oriented. Everyone adored him. Even my parents used to say, “Fiona, what more could you possibly want? You’re married to a guy like Ethan. Do you know how lucky you are?” So when I asked for a divorce, I was branded as ungrateful. My mom slapped me. My dad threatened to cut ties with me. But I didn’t look back. I left Ethan without a shred of hesitation. Now, standing in front of me, he was the picture of success—sharp suit, confident demeanor, the kind of man people admired. I smiled faintly. “Even if you’ve become a billionaire now, I still don’t regret leaving you.” Ignoring the stunned looks around me, I added, “In six years, you’ve never once stopped to think about where you went wrong.” I almost envied how shamelessly content he seemed with himself. What no one knew was just how much I’d suffered in that marriage. When we first got married, Ethan secretly sold our house while I was away on a business trip. I came home to find my belongings packed into a few garbage bags sitting in the hallway. That’s how I discovered we no longer had a home. Exhausted and confused, I called him, hoping for an explanation. All I got was an impatient response: “My second cousin’s wife needed money for surgery. We’re family—I had to help! What’s the big deal about selling the house?” I wasn’t against helping people. But shouldn’t we do so within our means? We’d just gotten married, barely making ends meet. Some days, we couldn’t even take care of ourselves. What hurt the most was that the house was something we’d saved for together. He didn’t even bother to tell me before selling it. Dragging my bags under the scorching sun, I didn’t even know where I was going to sleep that night. When I broke down crying, his reaction was anger, not empathy. “All you ever do is cry! The house is sold—it’s done. What more do you want from me? I promise I’ll buy you a mansion someday, okay?” He hung up on me and took time off from work. I thought it was to help us find a new place to live. But no. He spent weeks at the hospital, taking care of his second cousin’s wife—a woman who wasn’t even remotely close to him. Everyone around us praised him for being a saint. “Fiona, your husband is such a good man. You’re so lucky!” Even when a neighbor’s cat went missing, Ethan wouldn’t hesitate to spend his nights searching for it after long shifts at work. He’d come home with dark circles under his eyes, ignoring my concern for his health. Only when the cat was safe did he drag his exhausted body back home. 2 Before we got married, I thought these things were small and endearing—a sign of his big heart. But after living with him, I couldn’t ignore the way his kindness to strangers contrasted with his indifference toward me. Three months after he sold our house, we were living in a cramped rental apartment. And then, life threw another wrench into the gears—I found out I was pregnant. The doctor warned me that I had a high-risk pregnancy and needed to stay on bed rest for three months. I took a leave of absence from work to focus on the baby. Ethan thought I was being overly dramatic. Listening to his second cousin’s advice, he decided I was just lazy and didn’t want to work. So what did he do? He invited a group of elderly relatives to our tiny apartment and expected me to cook and clean for them. The place turned into a zoo—constant noise, piles of dishes, and trash everywhere. My head throbbed every day, and the chaos pushed me to my limit. When I finally lost it and told everyone to leave, Ethan exploded. “They’re my family! If it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t even be here today. They raised me when no one else would!” “And now that you’ve married me, it’s your responsibility to take care of them too. That’s just how it is.” His words hit me like a slap in the face. He looked around the messy apartment with disdain, then pointed a finger at me. “I’m going to bring them back. You’d better clean this place up before I return. And mop the floors while you’re at it.” He slammed the door so hard that it bounced back open. The neighbor passing by clicked her tongue and shook her head. “You’re just pregnant, not disabled. If you can’t even do basic chores, no wonder Ethan’s so upset.” Ethan had always been a social butterfly—everyone loved him. Anytime we had a disagreement, it was inevitably spun as my fault. Back then, I was so stressed and anxious that I dropped to 80 pounds, looking more like a skeleton than a person. I didn’t care about the whispers and judgment from others; I swallowed my pride and tried to reason with him again and again. “The doctor said I need to rest for the baby’s sake. And let’s not forget, we’re barely scraping by. We can’t afford to keep supporting all these relatives of yours.” I couldn’t understand why he insisted on bringing his extended family to live with us in the city. The apartment was tiny, we were sleeping on the floor, and his relatives had perfectly comfortable homes in the countryside, with their own farms and land. I tried to stay calm and reason with him: “Ethan, I wouldn’t complain if you sent them half your paycheck every month, but having them stay here is destroying our lives. Don’t you see that?” But Ethan wouldn’t listen. He called me selfish and heartless, and we didn’t speak for days. It wasn’t until I lost more weight, the baby stopped growing, and the doctor advised terminating the pregnancy that he finally, begrudgingly, sent his relatives back home. But it was too late. For the sake of my own health, I decided to follow the doctor’s recommendation and let the baby go. Ethan was furious. “I already sent my family away! Just eat a little more, sleep a little better, and everything will be fine! I don’t believe for a second that the baby won’t survive if you take care of yourself.” I was stunned, staring at him like I was seeing him for the first time. The doctor had said the baby wasn’t healthy and that my life was at risk if we didn’t end the pregnancy. How could he not care about me at all? In that moment, it felt like the blood in my veins froze. There was no point in trying to explain anything to a man like him. So, I went alone to have the procedure. When I got home, pale and weak, he slapped me across the face. I stood there, stunned, as his voice roared in my ears: “Fiona, you’re a monster! You killed my child!” The whole neighborhood heard about it. Neighbors came by to console Ethan, patting him on the back and singing praises about his kindness. No one said it outright, but their looks said it all—they hated me. A few self-righteous “helpers” even made snide remarks: “Poor Ethan. He was so excited about becoming a father. Goes to show, you really need to marry a good woman. Even the nicest guy won’t have a good life with someone like that.” 3 Ethan could have explained my side of the story. He could have told them why I made that painful decision. But he didn’t. He basked in their sympathy, wallowing in his role as the victim. I looked at him, exhausted beyond words, and asked, “Are you done pretending?” No one grieved for that child more than I did. No one hurt more than I did. And yet, I wasn’t the one at fault. “Ethan, why do someone like you even bother getting married? All you do is ruin the lives of the people closest to you.” “It’s miserable being around you. Go ahead and keep loving the rest of the world—I won’t stop you. I want a divorce.” I packed my things and left. Before I walked out, I slapped him back. He pressed a hand to his reddened cheek but didn’t say a word to stop me. He didn’t have to. There were plenty of people ready to take his side. First, there were my parents. They tried every trick in the book to make me stay: “What did Ethan do wrong, really? This whole thing is your fault. You went behind his back and got rid of the baby. Of course, he’s upset!” “And look at Ethan—what kind of son-in-law goes out of his way to take me shopping on the weekends? Last week, when I coughed a little, he bought me medicine and made me soup. He’s practically our own son!” “You’re not allowed to keep fighting with him! Go home and apologize right now!” When I refused, my dad issued an ultimatum: “If you don’t move back in with your husband today and make things right, don’t bother calling me your father anymore.” Then, there was my best friend, Sarah Cooper. She was still gushing over the time Ethan drove cross-country to take her back to her hometown last year. Naturally, she joined the chorus of criticism: “Fiona, you’re in the wrong here. Honestly, ever since you got married, you’ve become so petty and spoiled. It’s not a good look on you.” Even my best friend had benefited from Ethan’s generosity. I was the only one who hadn’t. Since the day we got married, I hadn’t gotten a single ounce of kindness from him. He’d donate half his paycheck to animal shelters. Or drop everything to volunteer at the community center because someone sent a message in the neighborhood group chat. When a hurricane hit, the windows in our apartment started cracking. I was terrified, shaking and crying, but Ethan only answered his phone to say he was going to check on a female neighbor. I begged him to stay. He rolled his eyes. “What’s there to be scared of? Stop acting like a child.” And with that, he walked out into the storm. Even when he slipped and broke several bones in the wind, he still dragged himself to her place, ignoring his injuries. Or there was the time he promised to take me to a prenatal appointment but ditched me at the last second to grab lunch with his friends. Things like that happened so often, I lost count. I started to feel like I was worth less than trash to him. Even Sarah, my so-called best friend, couldn’t see the truth. “Fiona,” she said, shaking her head. “This time, I’m not on your side. No matter how upset you were, you shouldn’t have gotten rid of the baby.” I pulled out the doctor’s report and handed it to her. “The doctor said the baby wasn’t healthy. It wasn’t my decision—it was a medical necessity. Got it? Stop acting like I did it out of spite.” They all fell silent, choking on their words. But what I didn’t expect was what came next. While Ethan and I were taking time apart, Sarah took advantage of the situation. She told Ethan she had breast cancer and begged him to take wedding photos with her as her “final wish.” “I just want one set of wedding photos before I die,” she said, batting her eyes at me. “Fiona, you won’t mind lending me your husband for this, right?”

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On what should have been my wedding day with Caleb Foster, I ended up being a bridesmaid instead. As I walked down the aisle in the wedding dress Caleb had chosen for me, I realized his gaze wasn’t on me. His eyes looked past me, fixed on Mia Lawson behind me. Just as I was about to ruin the wedding, a message appeared before my eyes. [This woman is really something, clinging to this rotten cabbage and not even glancing at our little tyrant.] [Please, I beg you, turn around and look at Liam! He’s ready to end it all thinking you’re getting married!] Startled, I quickly grabbed my phone and dialed a number I hadn’t touched in ages. In my panic, I blurted out, “Liam! Didn’t you say you were going to crash the wedding? Why haven’t you come to get me yet?” Mia’s wedding dress was incomparably more luxurious than mine. As she passed by, she looked at me like I was a stray dog. She clearly thought I had lost my mind. After giving me a once-over from head to toe, she let out a small snort and walked on. Caleb, completely indifferent, held Mia’s hand as they walked towards their marital altar. The spotlight shone on them as their vows echoed in my ears. But at that moment, I couldn’t care less about their wedding. The phone remained silent, and I was getting increasingly anxious. One second, two seconds… Just as I was about to tear off the wedding dress and run out, a deep voice came through the phone. “Okay.” The messages before my eyes suddenly changed: [Ah, I’ll spare your life this time, supporting character. You finally showed some conscience!] [But how did she suddenly become so clever? I thought she was going to remain stupid until the end.] [She must be fake. Rejecting the handsome, rich, and loyal childhood friend, and insisting on clinging to this petty man.] [Hope she can stay smart, otherwise Caleb could play her like a fiddle with just a crook of his finger.] Looking at the messages, I slowly pieced together the plot. Apparently, I was the princess of the Knight family, but I fell in love with the bookish Caleb Foster. However, Caleb saw me as a cash cow, using my money to string me along. Even this wedding was paid for with my money! The plot then goes on with the male and female leads labeling me as the vicious third wheel interfering in their love story, posting about me online and subjecting me to cyberbullying. Then their fans track me down in real life and stab me to death? What kind of melodramatic plot is this? As I thought about this, my anger started to boil. Before I could act, I was pulled into a cold embrace. The man’s arms squeezed me tightly, almost painfully, but he just buried his head in the crook of my neck, as if afraid I would run away again. I looked up and saw Liam, who was also my boss. “How did you get here so quickly?” Hearing my question, the man was visibly taken aback. “Aria, I…” His helpless expression made him look like a child who had done something wrong, softening my heart. I spoke up, “I mean, how did you drive here so fast? Weren’t you just at the beach? I can still smell the sea breeze on you.” The man’s rigid face relaxed a bit when he heard the concern in my voice. At this moment, more messages appeared: [She’s changed today? How come she’s speaking nicely?] [Ah, poor Liam. If this supporting character had spoken nicely earlier, there wouldn’t have been so many misunderstandings between them.] Misunderstandings? I made a mental note to ask Liam about this later. Liam looked at the happy couple on stage, his face troubled. He squeezed my hand and asked, “Aria, do you want me to take you away?” Looking at that despicable couple, I curved my lips and walked towards the stage, holding Liam’s hand. As we walked, I said, “Liam, didn’t you say you wanted to marry me?” The floating messages became increasingly frantic: [What is she going to do? What is she going to do! It can’t be what I’m thinking, right?] Liam was also caught off guard by my actions, but he quickly understood. His large, warm hand actively enveloped mine, leading me onto the stage. On stage, Mia was still listening to Caleb’s heartfelt vows, tears and snot running down her face. I snatched the microphone from his hand and said, “Ahem, sorry to interrupt the newlyweds, but do you mind if we join in?” Mia’s mouth twitched as she said, “Are you okay, Aria? Caleb doesn’t like you and won’t marry you. Can you stop making a fool of yourself?” Caleb sneered, “Aria, you’re still as childish as ever. Don’t think this will make me feel sorry for you.” Seeing him ramble on endlessly, I couldn’t help but interrupt, “Stop, stop, stop. So you’re saying you don’t mind, right?” His face turned as black as the bottom of a pot, but he nodded. Great! I turned to Liam with the microphone and said, “For better or for worse, in sickness and in health, in poverty or in wealth, do you promise to spend your life with me, never to part?” “I do.” Liam’s voice was hoarse and restrained. I thought that was the end of it, but to my surprise, he pulled out a ring from his pocket and got down on one knee. “Aria, I promise to protect you for the rest of our lives. Will you marry me?” Although I had dragged him onto the stage, I never expected him to actually have a ring prepared. After saying this, he pushed the ring deep onto my finger and pulled me into his arms for a passionate kiss. At this moment, more messages floated up: [Ahh, although… Liam finally married the person he’s been pining for!] There were also those mocking Caleb: [Haha, Caleb thought he had Aria wrapped around his finger, didn’t expect this, did you!] Seeing their words, I couldn’t help but glance at the people beside us. Caleb’s mouth was twisted with anger. The next second, my tongue stung as I met those bottomless eyes that seemed to want to pull me in. Messages: [Haha, Liam is jealous~] [You’re in for it now, Liam is actually a huge jealous guy!] I ignored those messages because I no longer had the energy! After the kiss, I nestled in Liam’s arms, panting heavily, while watching the despicable couple gnash their teeth. Messages: [Mia’s eyes are about to fall out looking at that huge diamond on Aria’s hand, aren’t they? How about asking your dear Caleb to buy you one~] [Don’t know if you remember, but this is the one Aria casually mentioned she liked once, and Liam actually went abroad to buy it.] Seeing this message, I couldn’t help but look up at the man beside me, and coincidentally, he was looking at me too. He said softly: “Let’s go home.” I nodded, and he was about to carry me away when Caleb stopped us. “Aria! What the hell are you doing? Come back to me now, and I’ll give you one more chance!” Hearing his words, I struggled to get down from Liam. At the same time, I felt the man’s fingertips start to turn cold. Messages also floated incessantly: [Oh no, she can’t be this love-struck, can she??] [Someone save Liam, he’s about to break!] After I stood firm, I took a deep breath and cursed, “Who do you think you are? You think you can summon me at will? Look at yourself, what part of you is worthy of me?” “You didn’t really think I was head over heels for you, did you? Sorry, I have standards!” “Oh, weren’t you two getting married? Why don’t you continue? Consider the venue rented to you, remember to settle the bill later~” After saying this, I jumped onto Liam’s back and whispered in his ear: “Let’s go~” After witnessing my performance, the man laughed softly. I lay on his back, listening to his deep laughter. Looking at his broad shoulders, I couldn’t help but reflect on how brain-dead I must have been to like Caleb before. Thinking about Caleb’s scrawny figure, I couldn’t help but shake my head. In the blink of an eye, Liam had carried me to the villa he bought, right by the sea with a beautiful view. Walking into the villa, I couldn’t help but marvel that every aspect of the decoration and layout was exactly to my liking. The man followed closely behind me, carefully observing my expression. “This place is so beautiful, Liam. I love it!” I said with a big smile. Liam didn’t speak, but his face looked much better. Messages: [If he had a tail, it would be wagging like crazy, haha.] He handed me a cup of hot tea and slowly said, “Aria, I know you don’t like me, and the wedding just now was just an act.” “But this villa is yours. You can come anytime you want. If you don’t like me, I can leave!” His inexplicable panic made his words come out in a jumble, as if he was pouring out all the thoughts in his head at once. Seeing him like this, I felt a bit sorry for him and gently stroked his head. His hair was soft and fluffy, feeling very much like a small animal. The man under my hand calmed down due to my soothing. Just as he was about to continue speaking, we were interrupted by a phone call. I took out my phone and saw it was Caleb. The contact name still read: “Darling Husband”. Messages: [DarlingHusband, can the supporting character survive tonight?] Feeling the gaze of the man beside me, I felt inexplicably guilty. I was about to hang up, but someone pressed the answer button first. “Aria, I’m home. Iron my clothes, I have an interview tomorrow.” “I want to eat tofu tonight, hurry back and prepare it.” Messages: [Want to eat tofu and asking her to prepare it? Who do you think you are, a king?] Hearing him rattle off orders to me, I couldn’t help but ask, “Um? Didn’t you and Mia get married?” He didn’t expect me to bring this up. After all, if it were the old me, I would probably be rushing to him by now. He stammered, “Aria, how could I possibly marry her? You’re the only one in my heart, always have been!” The messages quickly chimed in: [Don’t believe him, supporting character! Mia is in his arms right now!] Hearing his sweet talk, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes and say, “Then why did you marry her at the wedding?” He thought my attitude had softened and immediately said, “I just wanted to make you jealous…” I looked up at Liam, whose face had turned impossibly dark. I was about to speak when suddenly that handsome face came closer and closer. Liam kissed me. But the phone call hadn’t been hung up yet. Messages went crazy: [Oh my god, this is so intense!! As expected of a boss.]

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## For three years, I took care of my blind girlfriend. Then she regained her sight. And my brother? He pretended to be me and started dating her. One day, my girlfriend came to my dressing room. My brother locked me in the bathroom. Through the crack in the door, I saw them slowly kiss, and surprisingly… I was relieved. What my brother didn’t know was that this blind girl was a psychopathic killer who’d murdered her own parents. Later, when he ended up locked in a dark basement, chained and disfigured, begging me to let him out, I stared at him calmly and said: “Brother, I spent years in that place. Now it’s your turn.” The audience erupted into applause, snapping me out of my thoughts. I let out a quiet breath of relief. My piano performance was finally over. “Let’s give a round of applause for the talented Noah White,” the host announced. “And now, we have the honor of welcoming the acclaimed pianist and patron of the arts, Ms. Evelyn Sinclair, to share her thoughts on tonight’s performance!” Evelyn Sinclair? The name made my blood freeze. I shot up from my seat, and when I looked toward the stage, I locked eyes with her. Those sharp, fox-like eyes. I stumbled back a step, my throat tightening. My mind went blank as I tried to look away, but my heart pounded so loudly I could barely think. She could see. She wasn’t blind anymore. No, it’s fine. My name is Noah White now. She’s never seen my face before. There’s no way she can recognize me. I forced myself to stay composed, nodding politely to the host before quickly leaving the stage. As soon as I was offstage, I rushed toward the backstage lounge. I wasn’t even supposed to be performing tonight—my brother, Noah, had asked me to stand in for him. My real name is Liam White. When I threw open the lounge door, my brother was lounging on the couch, waiting for me. I grabbed his arm with urgency. “We need to leave. Now.” He stared at me like I’d lost my mind. “Liam, have you gone insane? Don’t forget, you’re just my stand-in. What gives you the right to tell me what to do?” He yanked his arm out of my grip, smirking. “Evelyn Sinclair is here, sitting in the audience. She’s the head of the Sinclair family empire, and she came here specifically to see me perform. I’m about to hit the jackpot, Liam.” I shook my head, my voice low and firm. “Do you even know who Evelyn Sinclair is? She’s not a good person. I was kidnapped and sold to the Sinclairs as a servant. You can’t trust her.” He scoffed, laughing dismissively. “Sold to do what? Shine her shoes?” He rolled his eyes. “You’re just jealous because Evelyn likes me.” The moment he said that, I knew. He and Evelyn had already gotten involved. Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I warned him quietly, “If you stay with her, you’re signing your own death sentence.” His expression darkened, and before I could react, he slapped me hard across the face. “Shut up! Don’t you dare try to ruin this for me. I’ve waited my entire life for a chance like this!” Before I could reply, a soft voice called from the other side of the door. “Noah?” Evelyn’s voice was gentle, but I could hear the edge beneath it. My hands trembled, and I accidentally knocked over a glass of water on the table. The water spilled onto the floor, pooling at my feet. Her knocking grew more insistent. Panicking, I crouched down, clutching my head in my hands. My brother grabbed me roughly, dragging me to my feet. Without hesitation, he shoved me into the bathroom and hissed, “If you make a sound and ruin this for me, I’ll make you regret it.” I bit my lip, swallowing my reply, and stayed silent. My brother opened the door and welcomed Evelyn inside with a charming smile. Through the crack in the bathroom door, I watched Evelyn reach out and gently touch his face. “Noah,” she said softly, “I’ve been looking for you for so long.” It was obvious. Evelyn could see now. But she’d made a mistake—she thought my brother was me. Her gaze was filled with affection, her eyes lingering on him longingly. My brother took her hand and smiled. “Well, you’ve found me now.” Evelyn’s expression flickered, her eyes clouding with sadness. “But you don’t seem to remember me,” she murmured. “It’s okay, though. Some memories are better left forgotten. I’ll take care of you now. I’ll treat you better than anyone ever has.” She hesitated, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Just don’t leave me again. Because if you do…” Before she could finish, my brother cut her off with a kiss. It was forceful, almost possessive, and Evelyn quickly melted into his arms. But as they kissed, my brother glanced toward the bathroom door, his eyes glinting with triumph. I knew exactly what Evelyn hadn’t finished saying. If you leave me again, I’ll kill you.

Evelyn was my ex-girlfriend, the only daughter of the Sinclair family—the most powerful dynasty in the capital. Behind her beautiful, angelic face hid the heart of a devil. For three long years, I endured her cruelty, humiliated and broken, just trying to survive as her servant. The day I escaped, I made sure she’d never forget me—I drove a knife straight into her chest. If she ever found me, I knew I wouldn’t just die. She’d make sure it was slow and agonizing. When I escaped, I didn’t go home right away. I moved from city to city, always looking over my shoulder, making sure she wasn’t following me. Only when I was certain I’d shaken her off did I return to my rural hometown, disguised as a beggar. I stayed away from big cities, terrified she’d find me. I only returned to society when my biological parents tracked me down. When my mother discovered I had a talent for piano, she decided I should train alongside my twin brother, Noah. But Noah wasn’t thrilled about the idea. He injured his hand on purpose and blamed me for it. When our parents took his side—as they always did—they forced me to perform in his place. I refused at first, but they threatened to cut off my grandmother’s care. She was old, frail, and the only person who’d ever truly loved me. I had no choice but to give in. So, I became Noah’s shadow. I performed under his name, and he basked in the glory that should’ve been mine. At least with Noah around, Evelyn wouldn’t find me. For now, I was safe. I don’t know how long I waited in that bathroom before I was sure they were gone. Finally, I slipped out, carefully checking my surroundings before calling a cab and heading home. When I arrived at the house, I rang the doorbell over and over, but no one came to open the door. I’d left in such a hurry that morning, I’d forgotten my keys. It was clear Noah had locked me out on purpose. If he’d wanted me inside, any of the staff could’ve opened the door by now. Frustrated, I turned to leave, but then the door opened. I looked up, ready to thank whoever it was—only to feel the words catch in my throat. The bag in my hand slipped to the ground, sheet music spilling out. Panicking, I knelt down to gather it, my hands trembling uncontrollably. “Noah?” I froze. The voice was soft, familiar, and terrifying. When I looked up, I saw Evelyn standing there. She was dressed in a sleek, wine-colored cheongsam, her long hair cascading in elegant waves. She looked stunning—every bit the perfect picture of beauty and grace. But I knew better. Beneath that polished exterior was a monster who thrived on control and chaos. Before I could react, Noah appeared at the door, his face lighting up. “You’re a guest. You should just relax inside,” he said smoothly. “The staff can handle the door.” Evelyn smiled at him, her gaze playful. “I heard the doorbell ringing so insistently. I thought I’d help. It’s no trouble.” Her attention shifted back to me for a moment. I kept my head down, clutching my bag tightly to stop myself from bolting. She tilted her head, studying me. “Is he your brother? You two look so alike.” Noah laughed nervously, quickly taking her hand. “He’s my twin.” Her lips curved into a coy smile. “Your twin? He seems… afraid of me.” “He’s always been shy,” Noah said quickly, steering her back toward the house. Evelyn didn’t move right away. Her gaze lingered on me, her expression thoughtful. “What’s his name?” “Liam,” Noah replied casually. “Liam…” she repeated slowly, as if tasting the name. “It’s a nice one. Suits him.” Noah gave her an awkward laugh before wrapping an arm around her waist and leading her inside. But not before shooting me a warning glance over his shoulder. Later that evening, I avoided going to dinner. But Evelyn insisted Noah bring me down to eat with them. Reluctantly, I sat at the table, keeping my head down. Evelyn pushed a plate of spicy fish toward me, the red chili peppers covering the dish like a warning. “Noah told me you didn’t want to eat,” she said sweetly. “I thought maybe you’d lost your appetite. Spicy food is supposed to help with that—try some.” I stared at the dish, my stomach turning. I knew immediately what she was doing. Evelyn was testing me. Because she knew I couldn’t eat spicy food.

When I was kidnapped, the abuse I suffered left my stomach permanently damaged. Eating anything spicy caused excruciating pain. Evelyn loved using this against me, forcing me to eat raw chili peppers whenever she was in a bad mood. Noah, conveniently, avoided spicy food too—but he claimed it was because it was bad for his skin. Now, staring at the fiery red dish in front of me, I knew I only had two options: eat it and suffer in silence, or refuse and risk exposing myself. Without a word, I picked up my chopsticks and started eating. Each bite felt like swallowing fire, but I forced myself to stay calm. I didn’t speak, didn’t react, barely even breathed. Evelyn watched me closely, her eyes narrowing slightly as if disappointed. When dinner was over, I excused myself and went back to my room. As soon as the door closed, I collapsed onto the floor, clutching my stomach as waves of pain tore through me. Downstairs, Evelyn leaned back in her chair, her gaze lingering on the empty plate of fish. “Noah,” she said casually, “your brother seems to really like spicy food.” Noah barely looked up. “I guess so.” Evelyn’s eyes darkened, a small smile playing on her lips. “Noah, I think I’ll stay the night. Your guest room will do, won’t it?” Noah lit up, practically tripping over himself to agree. “Of course! You can stay wherever you’d like.” Upstairs, the pain finally became unbearable. I curled into a ball on the floor, biting down on a towel to muffle my cries. The memories came rushing back—Evelyn’s punishments, her cold voice, the sound of my own screams. Even after all this time, she still had the power to destroy me. When I finally passed out from the pain, the last thing I heard was the echo of her voice in my mind, whispering: “You’ll always belong to me.” I woke up with a start, drenched in sweat. My heart raced as I frantically looked around. But I wasn’t in the Sinclair mansion. I was in the White family home. For now, I was safe.

The sour stench of sweat clung to me, sharp and unbearable. I glanced down at my clothes—they were soaked through, wrinkled, and clinging to my skin. “BANG!” The door to my room flew open with a loud kick. Noah leaned casually against the doorframe, dressed in one of his vintage-style outfits. His dark eyes swept over me with disdain. “Liam,” he sneered, “Evelyn’s going to be mine sooner or later. You better not get any stupid ideas.” He paused, smirking as he gestured to his clothes. “See this? She made this for me. Stitched it herself.” “Oh, and in case you were wondering, she’s taking me to her family’s ranch today to ride horses.” I stayed silent, watching him for a moment before letting out a small laugh. The more Evelyn doted on Noah, the safer I was. I wasn’t some noble saint, but I wasn’t the one pushing Noah toward destruction either. He was doing that all on his own. “Pick a red horse for her,” I said lightly. Noah frowned, confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “She likes red.” His lips twitched, as if he was about to argue, but then he hesitated. He remembered what I’d told him before, that I’d been sold to the Sinclair family, and how Evelyn had inexplicably fallen for him, claiming he was just suffering from memory loss. The doubt in his eyes softened into belief. “What else do you know about Evelyn? Tell me!” “Why should I?” I replied coldly. He narrowed his eyes. “I heard your grandmother needs surgery. Help me win Evelyn over, and I’ll cover all her medical expenses.” I raised an eyebrow. “Words mean nothing.” Grinding his teeth, he pulled a card from his pocket and threw it at me. “There’s over fifty grand on that card. I’ll give you half now.” “Deal.” I picked up the card and said softly, “Don’t eat anything spicy around Evelyn. Not even a little. She doesn’t like it.” “That’s it?” he asked, suspicious. “For now. When you get back, I’ll tell you more.” His gaze darkened, and he leaned in to whisper a threat. “If you’re lying to me, Liam, you and your granny can meet in hell.” Before leaving, Noah hired a few guys to keep an eye on me. He wanted to make sure I didn’t try to sneak off and see Evelyn. As if I’d ever go looking for her. I’d been running from her for years. After taking a shower, I sat on my bed, thinking about the ranch. Back when Evelyn was blind, she relied on Braille to navigate the world. But she was brilliant—a genius, really. She didn’t just adapt; she thrived. She was reckless too. Even without her sight, she insisted on horseback riding, a dangerous hobby for anyone, let alone someone blind. I was tasked with ensuring her safety on those rides. If she got hurt, I’d be punished. Red was her favorite color. “It’s the color of blood,” she used to say. I still remember the day I asked her, “Your hair is naturally black. Why don’t you like black too?” She smiled at me, a playful glint in her blind eyes, then drove a knife into my arm. “Because red is the only color I’m sure of—the one you and I both share.”

The next morning, Noah burst into my room, grinning from ear to ear. “I picked a red horse for her, like you said. She loved it,” he bragged. “She was so happy, Liam. We were this close to spending the night together, but she said she wanted to wait until marriage.” My stomach sank. Trying to sound casual, I asked, “Did she ask you anything… unusual?” “Yeah, she asked why I picked the red horse for her.” “And what did you say?” “I told her it was just instinct, like I knew she’d love it.” I exhaled, relieved. But then I couldn’t help asking, “Did she… punish you for anything? Like, I don’t know, carve her name into your skin?” Evelyn’s possessiveness was legendary. If someone so much as looked at me too long, she’d take out their eyes. Once, she told me she wanted to carve her name into my skin, to mark me as hers. She said she’d do it herself when the time was right. Thankfully, I escaped before she got the chance. Noah laughed, oblivious to my fear. “Nah, she’s sweet as can be. Says she’ll do anything for me, as long as I don’t leave her.” I stared at him, disbelief coursing through me. Was this the same Evelyn? The cruel, sadistic woman who controlled every aspect of my life? “She did give me a gift, though,” Noah added, pulling a box from his pocket. “Actually, two gifts.” My heart stopped. “She picked out these jade pendants,” he said, handing me one. “Said it was for you, since you’re my brother.” I stared at the pendant, my pulse racing. “She specifically chose this?” “Yeah. Who knew she liked antiques so much?” Idiot. Evelyn didn’t care about antiques. She cared about chaos, adrenaline, and the thrill of walking the edge. She was a psychopath, through and through. Clutching the pendant, I cursed under my breath. Evelyn was testing me again. Before I could say anything, there was a commotion outside. A moment later, the butler burst into my room, looking panicked. “Evelyn’s here,” he announced. Downstairs, Evelyn lounged on the sofa, her long hair cascading over her shoulders. She was as stunning as ever, her lazy smile both alluring and menacing. Her dark eyes locked onto me as soon as I entered the room. “So,” she said, her voice soft and mocking, “your name is Liam. Why haven’t you said a word to me?” “Evelyn,” Noah interrupted, trying to smooth things over. “He’s just shy. You know, social anxiety and all.” “Really?” She tilted her head, feigning innocence. “We’ve seen each other so many times, and he still won’t say hello?” “Good evening, Ms. Sinclair,” I said quickly, cutting Noah off. Her smile faltered, and for a brief moment, disappointment flashed in her eyes. I’d prepared for this. I’d taken an ice-cold bath to make my voice hoarse, masking it so it wouldn’t match the one she remembered from when she was blind. Evelyn studied me for a moment longer, then turned back to Noah, her expression thoughtful. Taking advantage of the moment, I mumbled an excuse and slipped into the kitchen. I needed to keep my cover. I opened the freezer and grabbed two ice creams, hoping the cold would further distort my voice. But when I closed the freezer door, I froze. Evelyn was standing right behind me, silent as a shadow, her dark eyes fixed on mine.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295381”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #浪漫Romance

I was about to get engaged, and my boyfriend suggested we visit a nearby nail salon. However, when it was time to pay, I was told the bill was thirty thousand dollars. I asked the staff if there was a mistake since I hadn’t agreed to sign up for any membership. “That’s the price. You’re so rich; what’s the big deal about paying it?” she replied smugly. Holding back my anger, I demanded to speak with the manager. But before I could finish, my boyfriend cut in, looking annoyed. “You make millions of dollars a year. Why are you giving this poor girl a hard time? Stop embarrassing yourself.” I could not believe what I heard. I went home, packed all his belongings, and threw them out the door. “My money didn’t fall out of the sky! Goodbye. You jerk! Go with your nail salon girl!” With our engagement photos scheduled for next week, I decided to get my nails done. While browsing online for recommendations, my boyfriend, Orson Hawke, leaned over and suggested a new nail salon in our neighborhood. “The place looks nice. Why don’t I go with you to check it out?” It was rare for him to offer, so I happily agreed. When we arrived at the salon, I noticed a sign on the door: [Grand Opening! Membership Discounts Available!] A young woman who looked like she hadn’t even finished high school greeted me enthusiastically. “Hey, gorgeous! What kind of nails are we doing today?” I glanced at her name tag: Vivienne Grey. Turning around, I saw that Orson hadn’t come inside; he was standing outside, busy on a phone call. I sat down and told her, “Just a simple color manicure.” She gave me a quick once-over, then peered out the door at Orson. “Are you getting married soon? Why not get a fancy manicure?” “Just burgundy,” I replied. She didn’t press further and started working on my nails, trimming and shaping them. But after she had only trimmed two nails, I winced in pain. I suspected that Vivienne might be a trainee; her technique was rough and unrefined. “Could you be a little gentler? That hurt,” I said. “Your natural nails are so ugly I have to fix them properly. Otherwise, they’ll ruin the polish,” she replied loudly, making the other employees glance over. “What do you mean by that?” I asked, feeling a bit offended. I quickly requested a different technician. But as I tried to withdraw my hand, Vivienne held it tightly, smiling as she looked up at me. “I’m the only one here. No one else is available. “By the way, we’re running a promotion: top up one thousand dollars and get five hundred dollars free. Interested in a membership?” I rolled my eyes and ignored her, instead texting my best friend, Eliana Baker: [This salon is a total scam.] After an hour, I stood up to pay. “That’ll be thirty thousand dollars. You can pay by card,” the cashier said casually. I froze. I thought, “Thirty thousand dollars for a solid-color manicure? Surely, it’s a mistake. Maybe Vivienne thought I wanted to buy a membership.” I turned to Vivienne for clarification. She rolled her eyes at me and walked straight to the register, dismissing the cashier. Crossing her arms, she looked at me smugly. “That’s right, thirty thousand dollars.” I stared at her in shock, thinking to myself, “Am I being scammed right now?”

I took a deep breath to compose myself. “I only got a basic solid-color manicure. How is that thirty thousand dollars? Please call your boss, and I’d like to speak with them.” I didn’t want to waste any more time arguing with this girl who looked barely out of her teens. I thought I had spoken politely enough, but Vivienne sneered. “If you have a problem, talk to me. My boss doesn’t have time for this.” Everyone else in the salon kept busy, showing no interest in getting involved. Before I could respond, Vivienne suddenly raised her voice. “Sure, it’s not the most expensive service, but that doesn’t mean you can just skip out on the bill! You look so respectable. How can you try to stiff us like this?” Her voice was so loud it drew the attention of the other customers. Even Orson, who was sitting at the door playing on his phone, walked over to check what was going on. I explained the situation to Orson and said to Vivienne, “I need to speak to her boss. This place is scamming me.” I glanced around the salon, but the other employees continued to mind their own business as if nothing was happening. Vivienne came out from behind the register and sidled up to Orson. “Handsome, how can you let your girlfriend act like this? Can’t you calm her down? She’s almost 30, throwing a tantrum over a manicure bill.” She leaned closer to Orson as she spoke, her behavior reminiscent of a cat in heat. The sight made me sick. “Your prices are shady, and you won’t let me speak to your boss?” Then I turned to Orson. “And do you think he’s on your side just because you’re being inappropriate? He’s my boyfriend.” I was sure Orson would take my side, but to my shock, he placed a hand on my shoulder to stop me. “Enough,” he said, his eyes showing a hint of disdain. “Just pay the bill, and let’s leave. There’s no need to make a scene.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I thought, “I’m the one being ripped off here. Why should I pay? As a consumer, is it shameful to stand up for my rights in a situation like this?” “No way! I refuse to accept this price. I need to talk to their boss to find out how this charge was determined,” I said firmly. Seeing that I wasn’t backing down, Vivienne’s eyes reddened, and tears began streaming down her face. She wiped them away stubbornly and looked at Orson. “Why do you have to make things so hard for me? I’m just a staff…” The more she spoke, the more tears she shed; it seemed like she was performing in some tragic drama. I turned to Orson, hoping he’d finally see reason. “Do you really think this price is fair? Do you also think this is my fault?”

Vivienne stood there with an innocent, pitiful look, as if she had suffered some great injustice. I was speechless. “All I asked was to speak to your boss. When did I ever make things difficult for you?” She had the face of someone clever, but she couldn’t seem to understand plain words. Orson, on the other hand, looked genuinely distressed by Vivienne’s apparent misery. His eyebrows furrowed in concern as he pulled out his card. “Stop making this hard for her. Fine, I’ll pay. Happy now?” I tried to snatch his card but he dodged me. “Making things hard for her? What do you mean by that, Orson? This is thirty thousand dollars, not three thousand! No one is paying anything!” I snapped. “I want a reasonable explanation for this price today. If she can extort me like this, how many other people will she scam in the future?” Besides, if I really paid the money, I’d basically be admitting that I was trying to cheat her out of it in the first place. Orson was never like this. I felt there was something off about him today. “Adalyn, what’s gotten into you today?” he asked, his tone annoyed. I glared at him, stunned that my boyfriend was siding with someone else. “Don’t be mad, handsome. I’ll just take the blame for today’s incident,” Vivienne said tearfully. “I’ll pay for this myself, okay? Sure, I’m just a poor working girl, so I deserve to be cheated out of my time, right?” Vivienne practically shouted that last part at me. Her loud voice attracted more onlookers, who began to surround us and chatter among themselves. “She’s dressed so well. Does she really look like someone who can’t afford it?” “Some people these days, I tell you…” “Just pay already. Look how upset you’ve made that poor girl.” “That girl worked on her nails for over an hour. How can she say something so heartless?” Soon, even two middle-aged women were scolding me, saying I had no manners and no decency. I couldn’t believe it. I thought, “Is money so easy to earn these days? Thirty thousand dollars for a manicure, and no one even bats an eye?” When I noticed someone at the door filming with their phone, I realized that if I didn’t resolve this properly, it might blow up online. I took a deep breath and addressed Vivienne, who was still crying. “I’m not trying to make things difficult for you, nor am I refusing to pay. I just want to understand the pricing for this manicure. “As a consumer, it’s not wrong to protect my rights, is it? “You keep accusing me of trying to skip out on the bill. Frankly, I think you’re the one acting in bad faith.” At some point, Vivienne had moved to stand next to Orson. Still crying, she said in a trembling voice, “Handsome, do you think I did anything wrong? “I worked so hard for over an hour, and now I’m being bullied… Just because she’s a white-collar worker, she thinks she’s above people like me?” I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly saw the back of my skull. As more and more people gathered around, Orson’s face showed increasing impatience. He shoved me aside and said, “Enough already. Why are you causing such a scene? “You make millions of dollars a year, and you’re yelling over such a small amount? Aren’t you embarrassed?” The onlookers, emboldened by Orson’s attitude, began to attack me verbally even more. I was furious. “Exactly. Why make life hard for a young girl? If you’re broke, why even bother getting your nails done?” “I don’t understand young people these days, and they just love taking advantage of others.” I thought, “It’s bad enough that strangers aren’t on my side. But why is Orson siding with her, too?” Seeing Vivienne’s tear-streaked face, her smugness barely hidden beneath it, I wanted to slap her. But logic held me back. “My money doesn’t fall from the sky! Is it so wrong for me to ask for the breakdown of this bill? You just open your mouth and tell me to pay, but whose boyfriend are you supposed to be, exactly?” Orson reached out, trying to drag me out of the store, but I shook off his hand. Just then, one of the women in the crowd muttered under her breath, “Make millions of dollars a year, but she wants to skip out on an 89.9-dollar manicure? She shouldn’t bother next time.” Her words made me freeze. I turned and asked, “Did you say a solid-color manicure costs 89.9 dollars?” Vivienne, now visibly panicked, raised her voice. “I don’t want to argue with you anymore! Forget the money; just leave, okay? I’ll take the loss for today. Is that enough?” Her words made her intentions crystal clear. Vivienne’s expression turned sour as she stepped forward, seemingly trying to grab me. I shook her off immediately. When I refused to leave, she turned to Orson, her face pitiful once more. “Fine, handsome. I won’t take the money. Just get her out of here so I can go back to work, okay?” “Let’s go,” Orson urged me. “She’s not taking the money. Let’s not drag this out anymore.” But what Orson said wasn’t right. If I left now, it would look like I was guilty of what they were accusing me of. If the person who was recording at the door had posted that video, I would have been doxxed and harassed online.

The more I thought about how quickly Vivienne’s attitude had changed, the more suspicious I became. “That woman just now said a solid-color manicure is 89.9 dollars. So why were you charging me thirty thousand dollars?” I held up my hands for everyone to see. “This is the most basic design, no embellishments, nothing extra. And I didn’t sign up for a membership. “So what’s the extra charge for? “If your shop sets that price for everyone, fine. But why is it 89.90 dollars for others and thirty thousand dollars for me?” Everyone stared at my nails in silence, saying nothing. I continued, “Are your hands so special, or did you think I’d be an easy mark? If you can’t explain this, I’ll report your shop immediately!” Orson tried again to pull me away, but I blocked him and warned in a low voice, “Don’t touch me.” Vivienne’s expression shifted; gone was her pitiful demeanor. “You’re lying!” she shouted. “I never said thirty thousand dollars! “You’re just making excuses because you don’t want to pay. And you kept insisting on speaking to my manager.” I almost laughed out loud. “Wow, this girl is good at twisting things,” I thought. I turned to Orson and asked, “You heard her earlier? How much did she say it was?” I knew he thought I was being embarrassing right now, but he had also heard Vivienne’s claim earlier. To my shock, he said, “I don’t know.” The crowd erupted in murmurs again. “What’s going on here?” “Is this girl trying to scam someone?” I remembered the cashier from earlier but couldn’t see him anywhere. Pulling out my phone, I prepared to call the police. “Do you really have to make such a big deal out of this?” Orson stepped in again. “She’s just a young girl working hard to make a living.” I sneered at him, “If she really understood how hard life is, she wouldn’t be pulling a stunt like this! Yes, I’m going to make a big deal out of it. “Let everyone see how this shop cheats its customers! I thought, “If we can’t resolve this here, I’ll take it to law enforcement!”

After I made the call, Orson completely lost it. He snatched my phone and threw it to the ground. “Adalyn Creed! What the hell are you doing? Are you out of your mind!?” I froze, stunned by his outburst. I knew Orson cared a lot about appearances, but his behavior today was unusually erratic. Calmly, I started piecing things together. He was the one who brought me to this salon, and his words had consistently supported Vivienne. And now, he was panicking because I had called the police. “Is Orson hiding something from me?” I wondered. I turned to him and asked directly, “Are you two working together to scam me?” The room went silent. “Vivienne, you’d better come clean before the police get here,” someone chimed in. “Are you two really in on this together?” “Girl, I’m with you. Let’s wait for the cops!” Vivienne, overwhelmed by the speculation, finally snapped and started screaming. “Fine! Talk about me if you want, but why drag him into it? Okay, maybe I made a mistake with the bill. Happy now? “I don’t even want the money anymore! It’s all my fault. Is that enough for you?” Crying, she tore off her work jacket and ran out the door. “Vivi!” Orson glared at me, grabbed her jacket from the floor, and ran after her. I stood there awkwardly, watching my boyfriend chase after another woman. “Wait, was that girl your boyfriend’s or yours?” someone asked. “What kind of shop is this? It’s terrifying.” “People always say big shops scam customers, but even new ones are pulling this crap?” Amid the chatter, the cashier from earlier reappeared. Everyone turned to him with questions. “Vivienne said the customer wanted to sign up for a membership,” he explained. I thought, “Oh, so that’s it! Vivienne was trying to pocket the difference.” Looking at the two of them, now long gone, I realized something wasn’t adding up. Just then, the police arrived. I stepped outside to look for Orson, only to find him with Vivienne under a tree near the shop, cozying up. Orson was holding her in his arms, gently kissing her hair and whispering something I couldn’t hear. I pulled out my phone and recorded a short video. Then I went back into the shop, grabbed my water bottle, and returned outside. Walking straight up to them, I poured the water over their faces. “Are you insane? What’s your problem!?” Orson shouted. Looking at the disheveled Vivienne, I smirked, “Had enough sneaking around? Good. The police are here.”

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In the Neurology Department, a patient caused a ruckus, a pen’s tip dangerously close to jabbing my eye. While I was still reeling in shock, my fiancé Everett was busy shielding Dean’s daughter, Addie, in his arms. Afterward, he meticulously checked Addie’s condition, completely oblivious to my trembling hands behind him. I stared at the dazzling diamond necklace around her neck, which pained my eyes. It was the very necklace I’d seen in Everett’s jacket pocket. I thought it was a belated birthday gift meant for me. [Cora, you’re so pitiful. Everett doesn’t love you anymore, yet you still cling to him. Look, did he even glance at you?] Oh? Is that so. [Among his mistresses, you’re the chattiest.] After replying to the text message, I immediately bought a flight back to A City scheduled for three days later. In my left hand, I still held the phone connected to my dad’s call: “You’ve been away for three years for Everett, and Grandpa’s health has worsened. Come back and get the wedding done.” In my right hand was the pregnancy test result I had planned to show Everett half an hour ago. Suppressing my sobs, I said, “Dad, wait for me. I’ll be back in three days.” The next moment, I tore up the pregnancy test report and tossed it in the trash. It’s been three years, and my wedding with Everett has been postponed again and again, six times just for the ceremony. He’s either too busy, needs a promotion, or there’s a sudden increase in workload… I’m done waiting. Today after work, I didn’t wait for Everett to leave together, which was unusual. As soon as I started the car, the door opened, and Everett got into the back seat, looking displeased. “Not waiting for me? Do you have an attitude now?” I stayed silent, focusing on driving, and he added, “You should apologize to Addie; she cried this afternoon, saying you called her a homewrecker. Cora, I didn’t expect you to be this kind of person; Addie’s such a pure and kind girl.” Sure, she’s pure and kind. Everyone in the department talks about how Dean’s daughter Addie is lovesick, frequently visiting Everett’s office. I was genuinely amused. “Everett, do you remember what I said when we started dating?” “Are you serious? You’ve said so much; how could I remember every word?” He was a bit impatient. “I once said my future husband could be lazy, could be greedy, but must not be a womanizer. Do you remember that?” “Men in today’s society are so stressed because you feminists have distorted the atmosphere.” He rubbed his temples, pretending to lose interest in the topic. Both of us returned home with tense expressions, and Everett went to shower first. He took a long time in the shower, seemingly on a lengthy phone call. I didn’t bother with him. When he came out, I quickly closed my laptop. “You didn’t cook?” He seemed slightly stiff, seeing the dark kitchen and the empty dining table. His stomach isn’t great, and with the busy, irregular schedule of a doctor, I’ve been cooking for him for three years. “Order takeout yourself; I’m pretty busy these days too.” I was telling the truth. “You’re just a nurse. I don’t know what you busy yourself with all day.” He looked displeased, fiddling with his phone. Passing by him, I glimpsed that he wasn’t ordering takeout but messaging Addie: [Still hungry. I’ll eat you tonight.] I quietly picked up the cat bowl, planning to feed Purr. Purr is a gentle blue cat Everett gave me when I followed him to Seaside City three years ago to comfort me when I missed home. But after pouring the cat food, Purr was nowhere to be seen. I panicked a bit, calling out, and Everett impatiently looked up: “Stop calling. I sent Purr to Addie’s place; she’ll bring him back in a few days.” I threw down the cat bowl: “That’s my cat! How could you just give him away?” Everett looked displeased: “Addie has depression; I’m her attending doctor. For the patient’s sake, you shouldn’t be so petty!” He slammed the door and left. As I calmed down, a chill ran down my spine. Everett wouldn’t take Purr out to play. Addie must have been to my house; otherwise, how would she like and take Purr? I went mad searching the house. Finally, in the crack of the guest room headboard, I found a black lace bra and a torn condom wrapper. What a coincidence. Half a month ago, to monitor Purr’s activity at home, I bought a camera. I only tested it but wasn’t good at setting it up, so I left it alone. I opened the app to check. The footage was unclear, but the audio was crystal clear. A week ago, when I was on the night shift, Addie asked, “Who excites you more, me or that woman?” Everett, panting, replied: “She’s so boring; she can’t compare to your wild charms.”

To avoid Everett, I switched hospitals for the miscarriage procedure. The tiny child, so pitiful, left only a photo. I rested for only half a day before going to retrieve Purr. With Addie’s bra in hand, I was about to knock when I heard Addie’s playful laughter from inside: “Do you like eating me or the food I make?” “Of course, it’s you,” came Everett’s voice. No wonder Everett’s been coming home less and less lately. With the busy and irregular life of a doctor, Everett often stayed overnight at the office. I never doubted it. Turns out he was keeping a mistress here. I opened TikTok on my phone, logged into an alternate account, and sure enough, found an account named “Addie.” In it, the two of them and the cat were cuddled together, smiling sweetly. Caption: “Let’s be happy together forever.” How ridiculous. They’re happy together; what am I? Maybe Purr smelled my scent because the chubby cat suddenly jumped into my arms from somewhere. I hugged it and kissed it hard. The door opened behind me, and Everett’s face briefly showed a mix of embarrassment and shock, quickly returning to a cold demeanor: “What are you doing here?” “Everett, shouldn’t I be asking why you’re here?” “I’m seeing a patient. Is there a problem?” “Then continue.” I turned to leave with the cat in my arms. “Everett, you promised to let the cat stay with me for three days. How could you break your promise?” Addie’s coquettish voice came from behind. A large hand suddenly reached out, snatching Purr from my arms. My body was still weak, and I almost stumbled. The cat returned to Addie’s arms. She stood behind Everett, provocatively raising her eyebrows at me, then went inside. Perhaps realizing he had gone too far, Everett pulled me to a corner and wrapped his arms around my waist: “Cora, I’m sorry. Pets are an important part of treating patients. Addie’s condition is unstable. I promise, in three days, I’ll bring Purr home.” I knocked away his arms: “Treat however you want! Why tell me all this?” With that, I threw the lace bra in Everett’s face. Everett’s face turned pale, then he looked up at me: “Cora, you’ve misunderstood. I don’t know whose that is.”

Once-loving people somehow rot in secret, leaving me at a loss for words. Maybe it was the miscarriage, maybe it was the blood loss, but I felt dizzy. Suddenly, a scream came from Addie’s room. Along with Purr’s cries. Everett dashed inside, then minutes later, carried Addie to the elevator entrance. Addie’s head rested on Everett’s chest, sobbing: “That little beast bit me, Everett. Is my hand ruined?” Her left hand dangled down, indeed with two cat bite marks, bleeding a little. “I’m taking Addie to get vaccinated. Go home.” Everett frowned, rushing into the elevator. I turned to look at Purr, wobbling as it walked, likely kicked a few times, vomiting after only a few steps. [Your cat is as annoying as you. So hateful.] A text message from Addie popped up. I couldn’t be bothered to reply, stumbled into a cab home, cleaned up Purr and myself, and only collapsed into bed late at night. In the morning, I was woken by the sound of the range hood in the kitchen. I was surprised to see Everett cooking. He never cooks. In all these years, I’ve made every meal. Could he know about the miscarriage, feeling guilty? I brushed my hair in my room, walked out, but he was gone. Along with the food he prepared. Half an hour later, I checked Addie’s TikTok with my alternate account, and sure enough: “Got bitten by a bad kitty, but Everett made me a heartfelt breakfast. MUA~” I closed the page, just as Human Resources sent me the Resignation Confirmation. I signed it without hesitation. I didn’t go to the hospital all morning, and at noon, Everett seemed uneasy when I didn’t bring him a heartfelt lunch. Around one o’clock, he suddenly came home. Was it possible he found out about my miscarriage and felt a pang of conscience? After tidying my hair in the room, I stepped out of the bedroom to find he was already gone, along with the meal he had just made. Half an hour later, I logged into an alternate TikTok account to check Addie’s TikTok. As expected, there was a post: “Got a bite from a naughty dog, and my sweet breakfast was made by my silly guy. MUA~” I closed the page just as HR sent me the confirmation of my resignation. I signed it without a second thought. I didn’t go to the hospital at all that morning. By noon, Everett seemed unsettled, noticing I hadn’t brought him his usual lunch. Around one o’clock, he unexpectedly came home. I was packing my things. Thankfully, we didn’t have kids, so there wasn’t much to take. “I brought you something to eat,” he said, holding up a takeout bag. Cold cake and iced coffee. I had just undergone a miscarriage procedure—I couldn’t eat that. Addie had texted me: [Cora, what you’re eating is just our leftovers. Enjoy it. Don’t choke.] I looked at my phone, resisting the urge to smash it. From Addie’s alternate TikTok account, I learned Everett had just come from her place. He took her to Nian Nian Restaurant, the one I’d been asking to visit for ages, but he always claimed to be too busy. Everett didn’t notice anything. After a few minutes of me scrolling on my phone, he suddenly got irritated. “Cora, who are you making that face for? Eat it or don’t, whatever!” “I don’t want to eat your and Addie’s leftovers, alright?” I replied bluntly. “Cora, Addie’s hand hasn’t recovered yet. I just took her for a simple meal. Is this necessary? Besides, she’s the Dean’s Daughter. You can’t help with my promotion, so can’t I find another way?” Seeing my pale face, his tone softened slightly: “I know I’ve been busy lately and neglected you. I’m going on a business trip these days. When I come back, I’ll spend quality time with you.” “Oh.” My response was flat. It doesn’t matter anymore, Everett. Delayed affection is worth less than grass. By the time you return from your trip, I’ll be long gone from Seaside City. 4. The flight at 10 PM, I’m the kind of person who never looks back once I let go. However, I had a box in Everett’s office, containing more than ten precious photos from our time together: The day I agreed to be his girlfriend, Our first Chinese New Year in Seaside City, The day he got the Associate Professorship… I wanted to take that box back. I didn’t want to leave anything for him. When I appeared at Everett’s office, he was busy. He looked so handsome while working seriously. Who would know how rotten he was inside? I asked him where the box was. “It’s in the cabinet gathering dust. Addie got curious a few days ago and took it to look.” “Do you even know what it is before letting someone take it?” I was a bit angry. “It’s definitely not those photos you like to take. I hate taking pictures, you know that. I’m busy, don’t cause trouble, okay?” He frowned, practically shooing me away. How ridiculous, Everett. Shouldn’t you check Addie’s TikTok account? You’ve made 298 short videos with her. I turned to find Addie. She claimed she was sick but was actually doing nothing in her exclusive VIP Room all day. When I arrived, she was cutting something on the bed. Next to the bed was a pried-open box. “Oh, you’re here. Look, do you think Everett and I are a match?” She held up a photo where my face was cut out and replaced with hers. I bit my lip and said hoarsely, “A perfect match indeed.” I should thank her. I would’ve burned those photos if I got them back. “You’re such a bitch, Cora. Get out of here, don’t let me see you again.” I successfully angered Addie, and she slapped me. My face burned with pain, but I didn’t hold back. I slapped her back. “Do you believe I’ll tell your Dean Father about you seducing someone else’s man?” “Oh, am I supposed to be scared of you? Everett and I are competing fairly. Even if you told the King of Heaven, it wouldn’t matter!” Addie swayed in front of me, laughing. She laughed as if she really looked sick. The building alarm blared, and someone yelled, “Earthquake.” People rushed to the escape route. Yet, Addie and I acted as if we didn’t hear it. The table and chairs shook violently in the room. A cup on the table shattered on the ground. “No, Addie, you can have him. I don’t want him.” I was curious and asked, “When did you two get together?” “We got together on Valentine’s Day. You’re the homewrecker between Everett and me. The unloved one is the homewrecker!” Really, February 14th. How laughable. On February 14th this year, Everett even pulled me to book a wedding photoshoot in the morning. How did he end up in bed with someone else so quickly, secretly for almost ten months? While thinking about this, the entire building shook more violently, The door was suddenly pushed open, and Everett rushed in. “There’s an earthquake! What are you doing standing there!” He shouted at Addie, pulling her towards the escape route. It was too crowded, too packed. He protected her, holding her in his arms, pushing through the crowd. I didn’t know if he was blind or if I just wasn’t in his heart anymore, Standing right beside Addie, he didn’t see me. I just stood there, quietly watching their backs disappear down the corridor. 5 I escaped the scene in a sorry state and went back to collect myself. Fastened my collar, put on my coat, and headed to the airport alone. While waiting at the gate, I saw Everett again. He was dragging a suitcase, holding Addie’s hand. They were chatting and laughing. So, the business trip he mentioned was with her. I watched them check their luggage. He carried her handbag, “It’s too heavy, I’ll do it.” He didn’t let Addie lift a finger, personally loading all the luggage onto the conveyor belt. I recalled our last vacation together, which was last year. I had to persuade him to take just a three-day leave. With his long legs, I had to jog behind him with my suitcase to catch the plane. I wanted him to help carry my bag. “My hands are for surgery. Carrying too much can sprain my wrist.” He frowned and refused. Back then, I thought, yeah, I really am inconsiderate. Haha, I’m truly slow to catch on. We dated for three years in college, worked together for three years after graduation, He promised he’d love me forever. … “Addie, I think I saw Cora.” At the boarding gate, Everett seemed suspicious, turning to look around. But there was no sign of me, only the announcement echoing in the bright hall. “You’re imagining things, Everett. I don’t care. Before New Year’s Day, you must end things with that Cora. I want you all to myself. Your mind can only have me!” … Two planes took off in succession but flew in different directions.

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At 3 a.m., I reached for my underwear in the back seat and slipped it on. Liam Carter lit a cigarette, the glow faintly illuminating his face. “Don’t come to pick me up anymore,” he said. “Why?” I asked, startled. He smiled softly, a mix of tenderness and guilt. “Nina’s coming back. I don’t want her to get the wrong idea.” 0The ache in my legs was unbearable. Liam had always been like this—no matter how often we saw each other, he never seemed to hold back. Tonight was no exception. He didn’t even wait until we got out of the car. I leaned against the seat, still sore, and picked up my underwear from the back seat. Liam lit a cigarette and blew smoke into the cold night air, the embers glowing faintly in the dark. “Don’t come to pick me up anymore,” he said again. I froze for a moment. Liam’s hand had a disability, which meant he couldn’t drive. He always refused to hire a driver, saying he couldn’t stand having strangers in his car. For seven years, I’d been the one driving him everywhere. The cigarette’s glow flickered in the dark like a distant star. “Nina’s coming back,” he explained. “I don’t want her to misunderstand.” My chest tightened, my heart missing a beat. I wasn’t unfamiliar with that name. In fact, it was etched into my memory, a name both familiar and haunting. In Liam’s 30 years of life, Nina had been a constant presence, dominating most of his past. She wasn’t just a name—she was his first love, his everything. Or, as some might say, his “impossible dream.” The night was silent, but I felt like I was suffocating, like a rat trapped under the blazing sun with nowhere to hide. My hands trembled as I fumbled with the keys, trying to start the car. The sound of my own shaky breaths embarrassed me. “I’ll drive you home,” I said, my voice unsteady. “No need,” Liam replied curtly. “I’ve called for a driver.” Through the car window, I saw a man waiting outside. He must have been the driver Liam had called. For the first time, I felt like an outsider. An extra. Liam transferred me a generous sum for the ride home. “I’m heading south,” he said. “It’s not on the way. You should just get a cab.” “And…” He paused, hesitating for a moment before continuing. “The house on Maple Street—it’s yours now. Stay as long as you like.” I wanted to laugh. Was this his way of paying me off? A breakup fee, perhaps? But then I remembered: we never even had a real beginning. The cold night wind stung my face. Maybe he noticed how pale I looked, because Liam rolled down the window and asked, “Are you feeling okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?” I shook my head and pressed the house keys back into his hand. He looked surprised, his expression unreadable. Forcing a smile, I said, “The house is too far from work. If you’re not going to live there, then I don’t see the point either.” “Time’s precious for someone like me, you know—a working class nobody.” I turned around, hoping to leave with at least a shred of dignity. But as soon as I took a step, tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. They reached my lips—bitter and salty. Behind me, Liam called out, “Emma.” I stopped, my heart betraying me with a flicker of hope. “Don’t hesitate to reach out if you ever need help,” he said. “I’ve always thought of you as a little sister.” A sister. Seven years ago, I left everything behind—my family, my hometown—to follow Liam to Ravenwood. I stood by his side through every triumph and failure, pouring all of myself into him. And now, after everything, he told me he only ever saw me as a sister. Of course. Liam’s heart had always belonged to Nina. From the very beginning, this seven-year-long relationship had been nothing but a one-sided fantasy. A secret affair that had only ever existed in my own imagination. 0

The rain in Ravenwood was relentless. It was that time of year again—storm season. I walked alone down the city streets, feeling like a lost ghost with nowhere to go. It suddenly struck me how pathetic my situation was. After all these years in Ravenwood, I still didn’t have a place to call home. The only place I could think of was the little apartment Liam and I had shared for years. But even that wasn’t really mine anymore. I tried finding a hotel where I could take a hot shower and get some rest, but it was the weekend before Thanksgiving. Every decent hotel was fully booked. Even the sketchy motels packed with eager young couples were full. With no other options, I went to a 24-hour spa, bought a day pass, and took a hot shower. Wrapped in their complimentary bathrobe, I sat in the dining area, picking at the buffet food. That’s when the tears came again, flowing uncontrollably. Ravenwood was so big—so big that after seven years, I still hadn’t explored it all. And yet, it felt so small—so small that there wasn’t a single corner left for me to belong. I suddenly wanted to go home. I scrolled through my contacts and found the number I hadn’t dared to call in seven years. My fingers hovered over the screen before I finally worked up the courage to press “dial.” The call connected almost immediately. My heart was pounding so hard I forgot how to breathe. But the voice on the other end wasn’t my mom’s. It was a man’s. “Finally remembered you have a family?” “Where’s Mom?” I asked. I recognized the voice—it was my younger brother. His tone was cold. “She’s none of your business.” The silence that followed was suffocating. After a long pause, I finally spoke. “I just… I just want to come home. To visit.” His answer was swift and cutting. “Don’t bother. You’re not welcome here.” And then he hung up. The spa’s lobby was freezing without air conditioning, and the thin blanket they provided barely kept the chill away. I sat there until dawn, staring blankly at the floor. When the sun rose, I went to the office and handed in my resignation. Zoe, my manager, looked shocked when she heard the news. “Emma, you’ve been with the company for seven years. You’re practically a veteran here. Your pay’s great, and you’ve got seniority. Why are you leaving all of a sudden?” My throat felt dry, and my lips twitched with bitterness. Still, I forced myself to answer casually. “I’m just tired. I need a break.” Zoe nodded sympathetically. “I get it. The workload here can be intense. How about this? I’ll approve some extended leave—use your vacation days, take some time off, and come back when you’re ready.” “No, that’s not necessary,” I said, politely declining her offer. “I’m planning to move back home.” She hesitated, as if she wanted to say more, but stopped herself. Her eyes flicked toward Liam’s office, separated from mine by nothing but a glass wall. After a moment, she sighed and stamped my resignation form. The resignation process was smooth. But when I went to collect my final paycheck, I noticed something strange: the amount deposited into my account was far more than it should’ve been—an extra $100,000, to be exact. The sum was more than my total earnings from the past seven years combined. I went straight to accounting to ask if there’d been a mistake. The accountant’s disdain was impossible to miss. “No mistake,” she said. “Mr. Carter instructed us to include it. It’s yours.” She smirked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’re lucky, huh? That’s more than what most of us would get after working here for ten years.” Compensation, huh? I stared at the extra $100,000 in my account, the numbers blurring together as my chest tightened. It felt like the money was burning a hole in my hands. Without a second thought, I transferred it back to the company and turned on my heels, walking away without looking back. As I stepped out of the office building for the last time, I could still hear the whispers behind me. “It’s not compensation. It’s hush money.” “Come on, there are plenty of secretaries here, but she’s the only one whose office was connected to Mr. Carter’s by a glass door.” “I’ve heard people walked in on her sitting in his lap more than once. Guess she sold herself for a promotion.” “Doesn’t matter. Her time’s up. I heard Mr. Carter’s first love is back in town.” “Really?” The gossip grew louder, but I didn’t bother turning around. The blazing sun outside felt suffocating, like it was draining the last bit of energy from my body. How did Liam and I end up like this? 0

Stories like ours tend to start with clichés. Liam Carter and I were no exception. We grew up as next-door neighbors. From the time we were toddlers in diapers, we had been inseparable. We played in the mud, pretended to be grown-ups, walked to school together, and shared the same path home. We were the textbook definition of childhood sweethearts. But Liam’s life was nothing like mine. His mom wasn’t in the picture, and his dad was a drunk and a gambler. From as far back as I can remember, Liam’s small frame was always covered in bruises and scars. And that wasn’t even the worst of it. His dad brought home a revolving door of women, each one louder than the last. Whenever that happened, Liam would be handed a crumpled dollar bill for dinner and shoved out the door. Then the shouting would start, echoing down the hallway of the old apartment block for everyone to hear. Liam would stand outside, his tiny fists clenched, enduring the stares of passersby—some filled with pity, others with mockery. My mom couldn’t stand it. Whenever Liam was sent out like that, she’d pull him into our home, cook up a pot of stew, and let the smell of spices and meat drown out the noise from his apartment. She’d make up a bed for him on our couch, urging him to get a good night’s sleep. But Liam rarely ate much. And he never slept. In the middle of the night, I’d hear him climbing out the window to sit on the roof. The first time I followed him up there, the wind was blowing hard, puffing up his thin shirt like a balloon. I brought a flashlight and grabbed his sleeve. His shirt was damp, and I thought he’d been crying about what had happened earlier. So, I stayed up there with him, pointing out stars, making silly faces, and crawling like a dog to make him laugh. Years later, I realized the dampness on his sleeve that night wasn’t tears—it was blood. No one used the roof much, and the moss made it slippery. Every time I lost my footing and nearly fell, Liam would let out a faint smile. That smile was so rare, I spent years acting like a fool just to see it. When we were ten, Liam’s life took a turn for the worse. One afternoon, his dad left for good. He ran off with an older woman who worked at the barbershop next door. I still remember the scene vividly—Liam clutching his dad’s leg, refusing to let go, his face set with stubborn determination. But his dad just kicked him hard in the stomach, sending him sprawling on the ground, gasping for air. Without a second glance, he rushed out the door, the woman tugging on his arm. He didn’t just leave Liam behind—he took everything of value in the apartment with him. Liam was left alone. The apartment was cold, dark, and eerily quiet. My mom tried to bring him over for meals, but Liam was too proud. He refused to accept help. Instead, he scavenged for rice and oil, climbed onto a stool to reach the stove, and cooked meal after meal of half-raw, half-burnt food. Kids can be cruel, far crueler than adults. At school, Liam became a punching bag. Every day, he came home with torn textbooks and fresh bruises. I was furious. I dragged him to the teacher’s office, demanding justice. But the teacher just waved it off with a dismissive laugh. “Why would they pick on him and no one else?” she asked, smiling as if it were a joke. Then she took my hand and whispered, “You shouldn’t spend so much time with him. He’s not from a normal family. He’ll drag you down.” It was the first time I’d ever felt hatred toward someone who was supposed to be a role model. By the time I stormed out of the office, Liam was already gone. I shook off the teacher’s hand and ran after him. I came up with a plan. I asked my younger brother, who was a grade below us, to walk home with Liam and me every day. That way, there’d be strength in numbers, and no one would dare mess with Liam. At first, Liam refused. But my brother, quick on his feet, lied and said I was too scared to walk home alone. Reluctantly, Liam agreed. Those were some of the happiest days of Liam’s life. He even started sharing food with me—his signature dish: overcooked, crispy potatoes. But life has a way of ruining good things. One evening, as Liam and I were walking home, we saw all his belongings thrown into the yard in a messy pile. Even the model airplane he’d spent months building for a competition—his ticket to earning some prize money—was smashed to pieces. Liam ran inside, only to be thrown back out by a group of men with hardened faces. Then they beat him. That’s when I learned the truth. Liam’s dad hadn’t just run off with a woman—he’d stolen money from a local nightclub owner. And now, these men were here to collect the debt. 0

That day, Liam was beaten so badly that it was hard to watch. My brother and I tried to run to his aid, but the adults in the courtyard held us back. “They’re not people you can mess with,” they warned. “Liam’s just a kid no one cares about. If he dies, so what?” But as I watched Liam lying in a pool of his own blood, I couldn’t bring myself to walk away. When no one was paying attention, I slipped out and used a payphone to call the police. The police arrived quickly, and Liam was taken to the hospital. For the next ten days, I didn’t see him. Instead, the courtyard was filled with strangers, all asking the same question: “Who called the cops that day?” When my mom tried to stand up for us, arguing with the men, they shoved her down the stairs. She broke her leg in the fall. For days, it felt like the entire world had gone dark, like even the sky above us had turned black. Then, everything changed. Out of nowhere, Liam’s mother—someone none of us had ever met—showed up. She took Liam to one of the best hospitals in the state for treatment. The men who attacked Liam, along with the nightclub owner they worked for, were all arrested. Even my mom received compensation—$10,000 from Liam’s mother. But there was a condition: we were never to contact Liam again. It was such a strange request. Even so, my mom refused the money. None of us had ever helped Liam expecting something in return. Not a single penny. But Liam still left. It all happened so suddenly. The last time I saw him, his hair was a mess, and he was out of breath. He made me promise we’d both apply to the same college—Ravenwood University. I agreed. And then, just like that, he disappeared from my life. When I graduated high school and started applying to colleges, I didn’t hesitate. Even though my grades were good enough for top schools, I chose Ravenwood University without a second thought. I moved to this unfamiliar city, clinging to the only connection I had left: the phone number Liam had secretly slipped me before he left. But every time I called, the line was dead. 0

I finally decided to buy a train ticket home. The station was packed with people rushing to get tickets for the holidays. The noise was overwhelming, but seeing the joy on everyone’s faces as they prepared to reunite with their families somehow made me feel a little less alone. That’s when Liam called. It was a video call. I hesitated, then answered—but I switched to audio instead. I didn’t want him to see my swollen, tear-streaked face and feel burdened by my emotions. On the other end, Liam sounded annoyed. “Why’d you turn off the camera?” he asked. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my voice. “Do you need something?” “Not really,” he said casually. “You left something in the car.” He sent me a photo of a ring. It was expensive—Bvlgari. There was no way I could’ve afforded something like that on my own. And I hadn’t. Liam had bought it for me during one of his business trips, not long after we started seeing each other. It wasn’t a diamond ring, and he hadn’t said much when he gave it to me, but I had cherished it deeply. To me, a ring wasn’t just a gift—it carried meaning. For Liam to give me something like that, I’d thought it meant we had a chance at something real. But now, I knew better. It had all been in my head. “Just throw it away,” I said, my voice flat. “It’s not important.” There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Finally, Liam muttered, “Alright,” and hung up. The line for train tickets was still long. In front of me, a young woman looked like she might faint from standing so long. Her boyfriend immediately flipped their suitcase on its side so she could sit down and rest. Their smiles, their quiet happiness—it all reminded me of my first year at Ravenwood. I’d been so full of excitement back then. It was my first time away from home, and despite not knowing anyone in the city, I’d come here with nothing but a promise and a dream. On my first day, I couldn’t wait to ask around about a student named Liam Carter. The upperclassmen gave me strange looks. “There’s no one by that name here,” one of them said. “But the dean’s daughter has a boyfriend named Liam Carter.” That’s when I realized. Liam and I weren’t part of the same world anymore. After leaving our small town, Liam’s mother had taken him to live in the city. Her new husband was a wealthy real estate tycoon, one of the most powerful men in the area. He gave Liam a life I couldn’t have imagined: money, connections, and opportunities. Even the model airplane competition Liam had dreamed of entering for years—something that had once seemed out of reach—was now handed to him on a silver platter. Liam’s life had completely transformed. But good times don’t last forever. When Liam turned eighteen, his stepfather handed him a contract to sign. Thinking nothing of it, Liam put his name on the dotted line. It wasn’t until later that he realized the truth: it was a debt contract. His stepfather had pinned millions of dollars of debt on him. By the time Liam understood what had happened, it was too late. He was arrested and spent three years in jail. His mother refused to pay even the small amount needed to bail him out. When Liam was finally released, he worked tirelessly to earn his first bit of money. Eventually, he caught a lucky break and built a thriving business. But the betrayal he’d experienced hardened him. The Liam I knew—the brave, determined boy—was gone. In his place was a man who trusted no one, whose life was built on power, wealth, and excess. A man I could barely recognize. 0

As I waited for the train, I decided to grab a quick bowl of noodles at the diner across the street. But fate had other plans. That’s where I ran into Liam and Nina. I’d only ever seen Nina in photos before, but in person, she was even more beautiful. Her long, wavy hair cascaded down like a waterfall, her skin flawless and radiant. She was the perfect image of someone’s “impossible dream.” The kind of woman who could make anyone feel invisible. The moment I saw Liam, my first instinct was to avoid him. But Nina grabbed his arm and walked straight toward me. “You must be Emma,” she said with a bright smile. “Liam’s told me about you.” Before I could respond, she turned to Liam with a playful pout. “Liam, that’s so mean of you! Emma’s been by your side all these years, and when I suggested inviting her out for dinner, you refused! If you keep acting this way, you’ll lose all your friends.” Liam didn’t even flinch as he lied. “I did invite her. She just didn’t want to come.” Nina tugged on my sleeve, refusing to let me leave. “Well, now that we’ve run into each other, no more excuses. You’re coming to dinner with us.” I hesitated, glancing at Liam. He had his hands in his pockets, his eyes fixed on Nina with a warmth I hadn’t seen in years. “If Nina says so,” he said casually, “then join us for dinner.” I thought it would just be a casual meal. I couldn’t have been more wrong. It turned out to be Nina’s welcome-home party. When we arrived at the private dining room, it was already filled with our old college classmates. Everyone cheered when Nina walked in, some even opening their arms to hug her. “Nina, you’re finally back! You have no idea how much we’ve missed you!” “Yeah, and no one’s been able to keep Liam in check while you were gone!” “Seriously, he’s been partying nonstop. We couldn’t stand it anymore.” Someone laughed and added, “Oh, come on. Liam was heartbroken! He hasn’t dated a single girl since you left, Nina.” “Is that true?” Nina asked, turning to Liam with a teasing smile. Liam didn’t deny it. Instead, his eyes softened, and he stayed silent, letting everyone’s words hang in the air. Then Nina glanced at me. Her gaze carried a mix of emotions—mockery, triumph, and, most of all, disdain. I suddenly felt like a rat scurrying in the shadows, desperate to escape the spotlight of their perfect reunion. Reaching for the door, I tried to slip away unnoticed. But Nina had other plans. She grabbed my arm and pulled me into the center of the room. “Oh, come on! You can’t just leave. I don’t believe for a second that Liam didn’t have anyone in his life while I was gone.” She turned to the group with a sly smile. “I heard Emma’s been pretty close to Liam. Didn’t he even give her a job as his personal assistant after college? Fresh out of school and already making six figures a year. Isn’t that right, Liam?” Her words dripped with venom, emphasizing personal assistant in a way that left no room for innocent interpretation. All eyes turned to Liam, waiting for him to respond. He didn’t disappoint her. Sliding an arm around Nina’s waist, he said calmly, “You’re mistaken. I’ve always thought of Emma as a little sister.” Sister. The word hit me like a slap. I felt the weight of everyone’s stares—some filled with pity, others with ridicule. I had spent seven years by Liam’s side. Seven years of being inseparable. Wherever he went, I followed. When the mood struck him, he didn’t care about the time or place—stairwells, parking lots, restrooms, even the office lounge. People had walked in on us before. It was no secret. And the rumors spread quickly. Everyone said I was just another woman trying to claw her way into the Carter family, desperate to become Mrs. Carter. They said I had no shame, that I’d thrown away my dignity for a shot at marrying Liam. But I didn’t care. As long as I could stay by Liam’s side, I was willing to be nothing. But his words tonight, the way his friends looked at me, made me feel like my soul had been laid bare. I’d told myself I didn’t care about my pride, but now, it felt like I was being flayed alive. They seated me in the farthest corner of the room, out of sight and out of mind. Liam glanced at me once, but before he could come over, Nina grabbed his hand. “Liam, I just got back. Sing a song with me?” He hesitated, his eyes lingering on me for a moment. But then he took the microphone from Nina’s hand. They started singing a duet. It was perfect, like they were made for each other. Meanwhile, I sat in silence, every note tearing me apart. At one point, Nina reached for a glass of wine, but Liam stopped her. “You’re allergic to alcohol,” he said, his voice soft with concern. She froze, confused. Everyone laughed. “Liam, are you kidding? Nina used to drink us all under the table in college! She was the queen of shots—remember?” Liam’s expression faltered. “Oh… I must’ve remembered wrong.” To cover his embarrassment, he downed the glass himself. But Nina’s focus shifted back to me. Her voice was sharp as a blade when she said, “Emma, I just got back. Aren’t you going to drink to welcome me home?” I didn’t drink. Liam pulled Nina away before I could respond, leading her back to the microphone. They sang song after song, their voices blending seamlessly. Someone shouted, “So, when’s the wedding?” Nina blushed and looked at Liam expectantly. He smiled and said, “Soon. Custom wedding dresses take time, you know.” The room erupted in cheers. I stayed silent, wishing I wasn’t allergic to alcohol. If I could drink, maybe I could numb myself to the sight of Nina leaning into Liam’s arms, laughing like she’d just won the lottery. I don’t know how much time passed. At some point, Liam stumbled over to me, clearly drunk. He slung an arm around my shoulder and shoved a bank card into my hand. “Emma,” he slurred, “we’re family. Always will be. If you ever need something, call me.” Family. But I didn’t want to be Liam’s family. When I looked up, he was already kissing Nina. His hands cradled her face like she was the most precious thing in the world. The room filled with applause and cheers, everyone celebrating their perfect love story. I laughed along with them. But as I laughed, tears streamed down my face.

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After a night of drinking, I found myself in bed with the guy next door. Once sober, he proved to be a remarkably responsible man and asked me to marry him. It wasn’t until later that I discovered the woman he truly loved had left the country that very night. So, I buried my feelings and became his obedient, dutiful wife in name only. We shared countless silent nights, perfectly in sync yet never crossing the line. All my friends said I would never leave him, and I believed it too. Until today, when I discovered his second phone. While he was in the shower, a girl sent him a selfie. “Mr. Theo, thank you for the birthday gift.” She was a young girl, with delicate features. But her clothes, far too sophisticated for her age, made her seem a bit uncomfortable. I stared at the photo for a long time, until my eyes began to sting. I always knew there was someone around Theo, but I never expected it to be a girl like her. Besides feeling moved, I was surprised by my husband’s taste. I felt sorry for him, having seen Theo’s secret. Moments later, Theo emerged, still damp from the shower. “How much longer are you going to look?” He snatched the phone from my hand, glanced at me, and began to dress. His expression showed no embarrassment at being caught by his wife. I knew his confidence came from the control he held over our finances. Because I was the one he kept at home, even though I used to be a renowned pianist before we married. I didn’t confront him about the photo; I couldn’t afford to. Seeing he was about to leave, I hurried to speak up. “Theo, I want to talk to you.” He fastened his belt leisurely and looked at me. “I have five minutes. The driver is waiting downstairs.” I guessed where he was headed, and my heart sank. “Theo, I want to work.” Theo turned, studying me for a moment. Then he pulled out a checkbook, wrote down a number, tore it off, and handed it to me. “Isn’t being a full-time wife at home good? Working isn’t for you.” With that, he was ready to leave. I followed him, lowering my stance. “I’m not afraid of hard work. I want to work. I can play the piano.” He had no patience to listen. To him, I was like a delicate flower. Someone who had gotten used to being taken care of, unsuited for facing the world or enduring hardship. Theo glanced at his watch; time was up. He left without hesitation. I couldn’t stop him, only gripping the door handle tightly as I asked. “My dad’s birthday is this Saturday. Do you have time?” Theo paused for a moment. “We’ll see.” The door closed gently. After a while, I heard the sound of a car starting downstairs, growing fainter. A few minutes later, the maid came upstairs. “Sir is going to City H for a few days. He said it’s something important.” “Also, a batch of Mr. Theo’s clothes was just delivered. Madam, should I send them for cleaning or would you prefer to wash and iron them yourself?” They knew the relationship between Theo and me was just average. In this house, they acted as our go-betweens. I knelt on the sofa, lost in thought for a long time before I came to my senses and spoke softly. “I’ll wash them by hand.” Because Theo didn’t like the smell of dry cleaning solvents. So all of Theo’s clothes, including suits and coats, were washed by me and then ironed. Besides this, Theo had high standards in other areas too. He disliked outside food and any clutter in the bedroom, so I learned to cook and organize floral arrangements. He never truly cared for this wife, only marrying me because of an accident. I gradually became the perfect full-time wife, and my life almost solely revolved around Theo. But Theo still didn’t love me.

I looked down at the check. Last year, my family fell apart. My dad was so stressed that he developed an illness, and his monthly expenses were over six figures. Every time I went home, my stepmother complained that I didn’t take enough from Theo. “He’s the CEO of Taylor Pharmaceuticals, worth billions.” “Phoebe, you’re his wife. Isn’t what’s his yours?” I gave a bittersweet smile. How could Theo’s things ever be mine? Theo didn’t love me and was usually cold towards me. Our marriage was only about sex, not love. He wouldn’t even let me have his child. Every time we were intimate, he reminded me to take my pills. Yes, I had to take the pills. I reached for the bottle, poured out a pill, and swallowed it numbly. After taking the pill, I gently pulled open a small drawer. Inside was a thick diary, filled with my love for Theo since I was 18. Ten years, I’ve loved him for a whole decade, and I silently closed my eyes. This one-man show seemed to be reaching its end. I didn’t wait for Theo to come back. My dad had another acute episode and was rushed to the intensive care unit, critically needing surgery. I stood in the hospital corridor, repeatedly calling Theo, but no one answered. Just when I was about to give up, Theo picked up. Fearing he’d lose patience, I spoke quickly. “Theo, my dad—” But Theo interrupted me, sounding a bit impatient: “Do you need money?” “I’ve told you many times, if you need urgent money, go to Quentin. Phoebe, are you listening?” I looked up at the LED screen, dazed, which was broadcasting today’s news. Taylor Pharmaceuticals’ CEO rented out the entire Disney park for a night of fireworks just to make a girl smile. Under the brilliant fireworks, a young girl sat in a wheelchair, smiling sweetly. And there was my husband, Theo, standing behind her, holding a phone, talking to me. I blinked slowly, and after a long moment, spoke with a hint of brokenness: “Theo, where are you?” He paused on the other side, seemingly displeased with my questioning, but still responded perfunctorily. “Still busy. If there’s nothing else, I’ll hang up. Contact Quentin.” He didn’t notice my near-teary tone, but his gentle gaze towards someone else was very soft, very tender. My vision blurred. So Theo could be this gentle. Behind me, my stepmother’s voice came: “Did you get in touch with Theo? If he doesn’t help, there’s nothing we can do.” But she stopped mid-sentence when she saw the scene on the screen. After a long pause, she found her voice again. “He went to City A again.” “Phoebe, I can’t believe that when Theo was in a coma, this girl named Zora played the piano and woke him up.” “Even if that’s true, how is this paying it back? He can’t even remember your birthday.” My stepmother grew angrier as she spoke, and thinking about our family’s situation, she began to cry. “But Phoebe, you must keep it together. Don’t cause trouble with Theo now.” I clenched my hands, my nails digging into my flesh, yet I felt no pain. Cause trouble with Theo? I wouldn’t. Not because I’m a sensible Mrs. Theo. But because I have no right. An unloved wife, the title means nothing. I stared at the endless fireworks and softly said. “All these fireworks must cost a lot, right?” My stepmother didn’t understand what I meant. I lowered my eyes and began calling Quentin.

Disturbing someone in the middle of the night is always unpleasant. Quentin had been with Theo for a long time and held a high position. Moreover, he knew Theo didn’t care about his wife. So when he heard my request, his tone was cold and aggressive. “Mrs. Theo, you need to apply first. Only after Mr. Theo signs can you get the check.” “Just like your jewelry, you have to register it to use it.” “Mrs. Theo, do you understand what I mean?” I hung up the phone, lowered my head, and remained very quiet. After a long while, I lifted my eyes to look at myself in the glass, gently raising my hand. On my slender ring finger was the wedding ring. It’s the only thing I don’t need to apply for or register with Theo’s secretary. How pathetic I am as Mrs. Theo. I blinked in a daze and suddenly said, “Help me find someone to sell my wedding ring.” My stepmother was stunned: “Phoebe, are you crazy?” I turned slowly, the footsteps echoing in the lonely, late-night hall. After a few steps, I stopped and said firmly. “Auntie, I’m very clear-headed, more than ever. I want a divorce from Theo.” Three days later, Theo returned home. He pushed open the bedroom door and saw me sitting at the dressing table, organizing my things. He put his luggage down, loosened his tie, and sat on the bed, observing me. After getting married, I always enjoyed doing housework, organizing, and making snacks. If it weren’t for the title of Mrs. Theo, in Theo’s mind, I was no different from a nanny. I didn’t speak for a long time, and Theo, tired from his trip, didn’t bother to say anything either. He went straight to the closet, grabbed a robe, and headed to the shower. While showering, he probably thought that with my soft personality, I’d be over it by the time he came out. And I’d continue being the gentle wife. He was so sure I’d love him like this forever. So when he stepped out of the bathroom and saw his suitcase still in place, he felt it necessary to talk to me. Theo sat on the sofa, casually picked up a magazine, and after a while, he looked up at me and said. “How’s your dad’s condition?” “I’ve already reprimanded Quentin for what happened that night.” He went to the closet, picked out a robe, and headed to the shower. While he was in there, he probably assumed that my gentle nature would lead me to calm down by the time he was done. Then I’d go back to being the dutiful wife. He was so confident that I would always love him like this. So when he stepped out and saw his suitcase still there, he realized we needed to talk. Theo settled on the couch, casually picked up a magazine, and after a while, looked up at me. “How’s your dad doing?” “I already talked to Quentin about that night.” He said it so dismissively, with no sincerity whatsoever. I set down what I was holding and met his eyes in the mirror. In the reflection, Theo’s features were striking, and he wore a robe better than anyone else. I stared for a long time, until my eyes stung, then calmly said, “Theo, let’s get a divorce.”

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After freshman orientation week, my new roommate used my phone to take a selfie. She sent it to my online boyfriend. With the caption: “Baby, am I beautiful?” My boyfriend replied with a big question mark, followed by a voice message cursing: “Just thinking about dating someone with your face makes me want to puke!” “Let’s break up, ugly girl, get lost!” By the time I came out of the shower, wanting to explain, I found I’d been blocked. My roommate, holding her own phone, proudly told me: “A popular streamer on SingJoy added me and said he wants to date me online.” I took a look at the account – wasn’t it the ex-boyfriend who had just broken up with me? After washing up, I picked up my phone from the desk. Opening it, I found my online boyfriend had inexplicably cursed me out and wanted to break up. Scrolling up, I saw my roommate’s selfie. It was truly an eyesore. Her huge face glistened with oil, covered in shiny pimples. When she smiled, her yellow teeth had bits of chili stuck in them. I almost dropped my phone in shock. A wave of nausea hit me. I quickly tried to explain that it wasn’t me. But I discovered I had already been blocked and deleted. Angrily, I confronted my roommate Fiona: “How could you touch my phone without permission?” “Who said you could send random photos?” Fiona rolled her eyes, saying impatiently: “With your plain face, how could you attract a man?” “I was doing you a favor by lending you my photo, and you’re ungrateful!” I was speechless. My face had at least ranked in the top ten prettiest girls in high school on a popular rating app. Fiona wasn’t originally that ugly. Since becoming a platform streamer, catering to viewers with peculiar tastes, she had made herself look increasingly exaggerated. Yet everyone in her livestream kept praising her as a great beauty. I wondered how to properly explain things to my boyfriend. Although it was an online relationship, I actually knew who he was. My boyfriend’s name was Connor Hughes, a handsome junior at the neighboring Tech University. He was a music streamer on SingJoy, with an amazing voice. I had chosen to attend college in this city because of him. Unexpectedly, after I posted a song cover one time, he took the initiative to add me. He said he liked my voice, and we ended up chatting all night. When he learned I was at a nearby university, we became an official couple the next day. I had originally planned to surprise him at the inter-university music festival this month. I never expected to be blocked and dumped like this. While I was feeling dejected, Fiona suddenly jumped up excitedly. “My idol added me! He said he wants me to be his girlfriend!” Curious, I glanced over at her screen. The familiar account – wasn’t it the boyfriend who had just broken up with me? Fiona’s SingJoy account had no photos, just some songs she had sung. Her voice was in the sweet and cute category, different from my neutral, cool tone. Connor had just broken up with me and was already looking for someone new? This series of events left me stunned. Connor sure was lucky, somehow finding the actual person in the photo. Fiona stripped off her clothes, her flab jiggling wildly. I thought she was going to shower, but she changed into pajamas and left the dorm. Her underwear was stuffed under her pillow – I was shocked! I knew she was going to sing in the hallway again, putting on a cutesy voice. Sure enough, when Fiona returned, she asked Connor coyly: “Big brother~ Did I sing well just now?” Connor’s breathing was rapid: “Baby, your voice is so sweet, it seems to have a special attraction for me.” “I want to use your voice as my sleep music.” There was a series of moans from his end. I felt like my ears had been violated! The two reluctantly ended their call. She said regretfully: “Too bad Connor doesn’t know I’m also a big internet celebrity.” “I’ll tell him at the music festival and give him a surprise!” I couldn’t wait to see Connor’s expression that day. Fiona started her nightly livestream. As luck would have it, I had just put on a face mask and opened my phone to see her video pop up. In her livestream, Fiona was wearing black stockings that squeezed her fat into layers of rolls. Her cleavage was deep, but her skin was dark and grimy. I couldn’t remember the last time she had showered. Fiona wiggled her body, using a voice changer to sound mature and sexy: “Brothers, it’s so hot today~” “Even in this heat, Snow is still livestreaming for you~” “Today you all must send me big rocket gifts, then I’ll perform for you.” The livestream was packed with viewers, inevitably including some nearby. At this point, a user with an anime avatar commented: “The streamer is only 6 kilometers away from me!” “I’m going to screenshot this and ask if anyone knows her.” I clicked on the anime avatar and saw the school listed in their bio was Connor’s university. Disgusted by Fiona’s stream, I closed the video and decided to listen to some music instead. As soon as I logged on, I saw a new post. Two screenshots from Fiona’s livestream. The caption read: “She has a mature, sexy voice and seems pretty wild. Based on the location, I’m guessing she’s from the neighboring Music College.” “She might be at the music festival coming up.” Connor liked and commented below, still thinking Fiona was me. “Voice-loving babies, don’t be fooled by this ugly girl, she also has a SingJoy account!” The replies below: “This fat pig is so gross.” “Makes me want to vomit just looking at her.” “Thanks for the warning.” Connor sent me a message through the account: “Don’t let me run into you at the music festival, or you’ll face the consequences.” I unfollowed him and added Connor to my blocklist. I coldly watched Fiona on the bed below, pandering to her viewers. She was still immersed in the teasing of her livestream. Anyone who insulted her as disgusting or ugly was blocked and kicked out by her moderators. Fiona always thought she was beautiful – a unique kind of beauty. At this point, a VIP viewer who had connected to voice chat issued a command: “Snow baby, crawl like a bear for me, and I’ll gift you five true love roses.” Fiona’s eyes lit up when she heard this, and she immediately started crawling. As she crawled, her huge backside with its dark tattoos strained against the stockings, which looked ready to burst. After crawling around the whole dorm, she was panting heavily. She had successfully pleased this big spender. The VIP viewer lavishly gifted a carnival-level gift: “From now on, I’ll come watch your stream at 10 PM every day, and you’ll perform for me.” Fiona nodded, smiling as she said goodbye to the VIP. Then she ended the stream. Tonight, she had made a killing. Fiona said proudly: “Unlike some people who still need allowance from home for college.” “I’m beautiful and hardworking!” I couldn’t help but ask: “Do you really think you’re beautiful?” Fiona snorted coldly, saying disdainfully: “Is a skinny stick like you supposed to be beautiful? You don’t even count as a real woman.” She fondled her breasts. “Look at my cleavage, I don’t even need to squeeze to get this kind of business line.” “Those men are all crazy about me, why else would they crowd my livestream every night?” I was so stunned I couldn’t speak. I quickly closed my eyes to sleep, afraid I’d have nightmares. The next morning, I rushed to make my 8 AM class. Fiona was still sprawled out on her bed. After hesitating, I decided to remind her: “There’s still class this morning, you should get up.” Fiona flipped over, releasing an inexplicable stench. Facing the wall, she said impatiently: “Just say I’m sick and ask for leave for me.” I looked at the time and didn’t bother with her anymore. This new semester, she had attended very few classes. When I got to the classroom, my classmate Emma told me: “Aria, are you signing up for the music festival? I heard a lot of hot guys from Tech University are participating.” I nodded, not for the men, but for my own passion. I loved singing and wouldn’t miss any chance to perform on stage. Emma asked: “Have you chosen your song yet?” Thinking of the few I had shortlisted before, I told her: “I’m still considering.” The song I had originally decided on was meant to confess to Connor, but now that wasn’t appropriate. I’d have to choose another one. I logged on intending to select songs again. 99+ messages bombarded my account. I noticed a message from an unfamiliar account: “Damn ugly girl, you dare block me.” “Watch me expose your account and make sure you can’t stay on SingJoy!” It was Connor’s alternate account. I scrolled through my past works and saw dense comments below: “Ugly girl can’t find a man, so don’t listen to music and fantasize.” “Seducing people with your voice every day, how disgusting.” “I thought this voice belonged to a beauty, turns out it’s a fat pig, makes me want to puke.” I unblocked Connor from my blacklist. I saw his new post: “This is the ugly girl’s account from yesterday. She’s harassed me with photos before. Everyone be careful.” “She’s from the Music College. If she dares show up at the music festival, we must teach her a lesson.” Connor didn’t dare say he had dated me online, afraid of embarrassment, so he said I had harassed him. A group of his brainless fans flooded my comments section. At first I tried explaining that Connor had mistaken someone else for me, but they didn’t believe it at all. “Don’t disgust my brother, okay?” “Please get lost!” More and more people warned me not to appear at the music festival, or else they’d make me pay. Angrily, I deleted the app. After a day of classes, I returned to the dorm to rest. Opening the door, I was hit by a foul stench. Garbage was scattered all over the floor, leaving nowhere to step. I looked up and was startled. Fiona was sitting naked at her desk, putting on makeup. My anger flared up and I questioned her: “Why aren’t you wearing clothes? And this takeout trash thrown everywhere!” “Can’t you clean up?” Fiona frowned, speaking in a cutesy voice: “What are you yelling about! I’ll deal with it later.” Her phone was on speaker, and Connor’s voice came through: “Baby, who is that? The voice sounds familiar.” Fiona quickly complained: “It’s my roommate Aria, she bullies me as soon as she gets back.” Connor asked suspiciously: “Aria? Aria Collins?” Fiona got angry, slamming the table: “Why are you calling some strange woman so intimately?” Connor hurriedly explained: “No, baby, I heard my roommate say there’s an ugly girl at your school called Aria Collins?” “I’ve seen her photo, she’s really ugly!” “If it’s really her, she’s not just ugly but also mean. Baby, you need to stay away from her.” Fiona calmed down: “My roommate is pretty ugly, so you all know about her?” Connor suddenly gave a lecherous laugh: “Baby, that ugly girl said you’re not wearing clothes while on the phone with me?” “Will that ugly girl see your beautiful body and feel inferior and jealous of you?” Fiona didn’t think much of it: “She’s probably quite insecure.” “But I can’t help it if she’s jealous of me.” Connor’s voice trembled: “Baby, can you send me a photo of how you look right now?” Fiona giggled shyly: “You pervert, why are you so horny?” “Don’t worry, I’ll give you a huge surprise at the music festival.”

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Henry Johnson organized a lavish birthday party for me, and I assumed it was also to celebrate our sixth wedding anniversary. But then he announced, “Let’s get a divorce.” With all our close friends and family gathered, Henry declared his intention to divorce, leaving no doubt about his resolve. I was taken completely by surprise, having no idea why he wanted this. He said, “I’m exhausted. Being under your thumb every day makes me feel suffocated. I want to live freely on my own. Can you let me go?” The conversations around us seemed to place the blame on me, suggesting I was too controlling for any man to handle. I was at a loss for words. I never even checked his phone or knew his password. I stared blankly at Henry, only to hear his best friend say, “Sister-in-law, do a good deed and let him go. You’ve been too strict. The woman he’s seeing is already pregnant and has no status.” I was completely unaware that my husband had someone else, and his best friend chose to reveal it in front of everyone. Henry was enraged and punched Perseus, exclaiming, “Have you lost your mind? What lies are you spreading? Whose side are you on?” Perseus took the punch without flinching and replied, “Henry, I’ve had enough of your antics. Every time we go to the karaoke bar, you bring her along, then act all lovey-dovey with Ottilie at home. Sister-in-law, you think he’s working late? No, he’s playing with us at karaoke! He comes home late because he spends time with her after work. He even bought her a house right across from yours.” My birthday party turned into a complete farce. Surprisingly, I wasn’t the most humiliated one—Henry was. He never expected his best friend to betray him like that. As everyone left, some felt sorry for me, some laughed at me, some cursed Henry as a jerk, and others called Perseus disloyal. Perseus boldly responded, “How am I disloyal? Henry announced the divorce in front of everyone. Is that fair? Blaming his wife, making it look like she suffocated him. If this happens to you, would you want your husband’s friend to lie to you too?” His words echoed loudly, silencing everyone. Henry, seething with anger, clenched his fists, ready to fight Perseus again. The room fell into a dead silence. I asked Henry, “How long?” I was clueless. Henry replied, “Two years. She’s still in school. Don’t make it hard for her. She’s from the countryside; it’s tough for her.” “Ottilie, you’re not like her. You can thrive on your own, but she can’t. She has no family, only me. Without me, she can’t survive.” I laughed bitterly. “So I should be abandoned, betrayed, and cheated on? If it weren’t for Perseus, I’d still be blamed for controlling you too much and forcing you to divorce on my birthday. How disgusting.” “I’m sorry. She’s pregnant. I need to provide her with security. She’s still in school. If I didn’t push for this, you wouldn’t agree to a divorce.” I chuckled bitterly, tears streaming down as I laughed. “What do you take me for? You want a divorce, and expect me to beg you not to? Just tell me you have someone else and want a divorce. Do you think I’d cling to you?” Henry said nothing more, just apologized and left. Today, I discovered Henry had another home outside, right across from ours. He even bought her a house. I locked myself in my room for three days, not going to work. I saw gossip about me in the work group chat. “Ottilie’s husband cheated! He has a mistress! I thought her Instagram was full of travel photos with her husband! They’re always together. How did he find the time to cheat?” “Think small. I’ve seen husbands sneak off to hotels while picking up their kids!” “They’ve been together since college, eight years now. They got married right after graduation. Ottilie bought the house they live in. When they got together, he was broke. She paid the living expenses. Now that things are better, he’s getting flirty.” “Do you think she’ll divorce him? Just let that dog man off so easily?” I closed the group chat, not wanting to read more gossip. I opened Instagram and deleted every post about Henry. I used to be the perfect woman with a successful career and a loving husband. Everyone envied me, both at work and at home. Even back in my hometown, relatives praised me for having it all: good grades, a good university, a successful career, and a good husband. They said I had foresight, investing in potential, and helped my husband rise to where he is now. He forgot the hardships he went through, the poverty, and the embarrassment of having no money to buy me a birthday gift back then. Three days later, Henry’s lawyer called, asking me to sign the divorce agreement. The division of assets was fifty-fifty, except for the house and company. The house was mine, so he wouldn’t take it. The three hundred thousand startup fund for his company was from my parents, and he’d repay it with interest, so I couldn’t claim the company. He thought it was fair. “I won’t sign unless he leaves with nothing.” “Ottilie, you should know the law doesn’t support leaving with nothing. As a woman, I sympathize and understand you. Henry feels guilty now and is willing to split things fairly. Once his guilt passes, you might not get as much. The sooner you divorce, the sooner you can start anew. Why drag it out?” I chuckled. “He started a new life without divorcing. Why can’t I? If he leaves with nothing, I’ll divorce.” The lawyer smirked and stood up. “Ottilie, you’re just stalling. Your demands won’t be supported in court. If you’re insistent, see you in court.” I went back to work. My boss already knew and offered me a month off. But I didn’t need it. If I lost my marriage, I’d focus on my work. I went about my routine as if nothing had happened. Colleagues thought I’d choose to endure and coexist with the mistress. It was common, especially since Henry was wealthy now. Divorcing him would benefit the cheating couple. Even senior colleagues advised me on marriage. “Any smart person would learn to be soft with their husband. Especially when he’s wealthy and attractive. So many women are eyeing him. You need to lower your head, turn a blind eye, and life goes on. The woman outside fascinates him because she acts weak and soft. You shouldn’t focus solely on your career. Give Henry a child. Your child is legitimate; the one outside is an illegitimate child.” I couldn’t understand their marriage advice. Finding out your husband cheated, yet rushing to have a child to secure your position as the main wife. Even my parents advised me similarly, saying Henry wasn’t the poor boy he once was. He’s a CEO now, and his company is facing financing, preparing to go public. Leaving him now would just benefit someone else. It’s strange. Everyone advised me as if it were up to me whether to divorce. Henry insisted on divorce to give the other woman a name. My dad said, “So, just soften up. You’ve shared so much together. If you soften, he’ll surely feel soft-hearted. Men at his position want to be admired and protect the weak.” I went home for dinner, hearing all this. If he wants to protect the weak, he should do charity. Plenty of weak people need protection. I was about to leave when Henry arrived. “Mom! Dad!” Seeing me, Henry paused. “Ottilie, you’re here too.” “What a coincidence! We didn’t know Ottilie was coming for dinner today! You two should talk, have a good chat! Ottilie has much to say to you!” My parents quickly left. Henry sat on the sofa, adjusting his clothes, and said, “The trial is soon. There’s nothing much to discuss. The sooner you sign the divorce agreement, the sooner we can divorce. It’s good for both of us.” “I know you don’t want to divorce me, but I’ve fallen for someone else. There’s no going back, Ottilie. We’ve shared so many years. Let’s part amicably.” I said, “You’re overthinking. I didn’t know my parents invited you too. Henry, when my dad gave you 300,000 for your startup, without it, you wouldn’t have today. Just returning 300,000 and expecting me to divorce? Keep dreaming.” “I understand that you don’t want a divorce, but I’ve fallen for someone else, and there’s no going back, Qianxun. We’ve shared many years together; let’s part on good terms.” I said, “You’re overthinking this. I didn’t know my parents invited you today. Henry, my father invested 3 million in your startup. Without that money, you wouldn’t be in your current position. Do you think you can just repay the 3 million and expect me to agree to a divorce? Keep dreaming.” Henry was visibly upset. “Ottilie! When did you become so pragmatic and materialistic? Yes, the 3 million came from my father-in-law, but I also worked hard to build this company! If you had invested elsewhere, you might have seen nothing in return! Now I’m repaying you with interest, and you’re still not satisfied?” “You think I’ll walk away with nothing? You’ve read too many novels! Is that even possible? You’re just wasting your time and youth by prolonging this divorce! I no longer love you. Why do you insist on staying with me? What’s the point?” As I watched Henry’s agitation, I remembered the time when he received the 3 million. He was so happy, holding me and making promises. “Ottilie, trust me. When I succeed with the company, I will repay you a hundred or a thousand times over! I’ll always remember your and your father’s kindness. I’ll love you forever and treat you well! Darling, I love you, I love you!” He meant it back then when he said he loved me. Now, with his career flourishing and someone else in his life, his words of no longer loving me are true too. My parents realized Henry was determined to divorce me, so they advised me to do it quickly, start anew, and not waste time on meaningless things. I declared, “I want him to leave with nothing.” My parents thought I was being unrealistic because it seemed impossible. Especially with Henry’s financial means, he had the time and ability to contest it in court. I also found a lawyer, Henry’s former close friend, Perseus. After the incident at my birthday party, they had a falling out. I repeated, “I want him to leave with nothing.” I thought Perseus would laugh at me like everyone else, “Stop dreaming! That’s impossible!” But Perseus said, “Alright! Let’s make him leave with nothing!” At that moment, I laughed. Then, as I laughed, tears streamed down my face. I said, “There’s dust in my eyes from the construction outside your law firm’s entrance.” Perseus handed me a tissue, “Why is there a sand pile at my doorstep? I’ll have someone clear it!” And then, someone really came with an excavator to clear the sand. At that moment, I cried even louder. The operator, not knowing what had upset me, revved the machine and sped off. Seeing the excavator run so fast, I laughed again. I looked ridiculous, crying and laughing. Perseus suddenly hugged me tightly. “Don’t be afraid, I’m here.” Listening to his heartbeat calmed me down. Perseus and I grew up together in the same neighborhood. He was raised by his grandparents while his parents were abroad. He was taken abroad during high school. He only returned in the past two years for work, which led him to Henry’s company, and they became good friends. That day, I received a friend request from a stranger. From the profile picture, I had a suspicion. I accepted the request. Then, they sent a series of photos. Photos of her with Henry, her sneaking a kiss while he slept on the sofa. Pictures of them cuddling in bed. Even explicit videos. “Your husband doesn’t love you anymore. Can’t you let him go with some dignity?” “Henry has always been careful, worried you’d hurt me. But I know you’re kind. If your husband cheats, you’d blame him, not me. After all, if not me, it’d be someone else, right?” “You know I live across from your neighborhood, and you haven’t caused me trouble. I knew you were a good person. Let go, let me and the child’s father be together. I truly love him, and he loves me too.” “I’ll ask him to give you more money. You’re still young; you can find someone who loves you.” “…” She sent a lot, but I didn’t read it all. She provided me with all the evidence of Henry’s affair, all taken by her, making it perfectly legal. I forwarded them to Perseus. Perseus laughed, “Why did she hand over such crucial evidence? We’re one step closer to that scumbag leaving with nothing. Let’s celebrate with a late-night snack!” “I’m on my way!” Her name is Jessica. She’s a junior at Harvard, from a poor family. By chance, she received sponsorship from Henry and became his sponsored student. Perseus sent me all of Jessica’s information, including school contacts and her advisor’s contact. While eating grilled skewers, Perseus casually said, “Send the chat logs she gave you to the school. They’ll handle it. She thinks you’re kind and won’t mess with her.” “Of course, I also think you’re kind and won’t make things difficult for her.” Then Perseus reminded me, “But her being a mistress is a personal and moral issue. The school usually won’t expel her, just mainly criticize her for education.”

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I posted a lovey-dovey photo with my husband on Instagram. Suddenly, a comment popped up in the comment section: “Your husband is cheating on you!” The attached photo showed Milo embracing his secretary. I didn’t take it seriously. There were many attractive employees in Milo’s company, and that secretary was quite plain-looking. Milo had even mentioned how annoying she was. I believed him. But later, Milo ended up getting detained for 15 days after beating up her abusive husband. When Milo’s 15-day detention was over, I went to pick him up. His secretary Tiffany was also waiting outside the police station. She shrank back when she saw me, instinctively trying to hide. I ignored her, looking down. Milo came out of the station and rushed straight towards me without even glancing at her, pulling me into a tight embrace. “Lena, I missed you so much!” As I rested my chin on his shoulder, my gaze met Tiffany’s over Milo’s shoulder. She stared at us with reddened eyes, choking out: “Milo…” Milo’s body noticeably stiffened for a moment, but he quickly acted as if nothing had happened and pulled me towards the street. He seemed to pretend he hadn’t heard anything, focused only on me: “Let’s go home first. Do you want to eat at home or go out today?” “Milo, Milo.” Tiffany followed us, repeatedly calling Milo’s name through her tears. Just like her name had come between Milo and me for the past three years. Milo still ignored her, only gripping my hand tighter, so tight it almost hurt. Tiffany kept calling his name. Milo finally snapped, turning to yell at her: “Why are you so annoying? Why are you following me like a stalker? My wife is right here, have you no shame?” Tiffany stood there, staring at Milo with red eyes as tears streamed down her face. “I just wanted to thank you and give you this protection amulet.” She held out her palm, revealing a small amulet. “I don’t want your stupid amulet. Let me make this clear one last time – I didn’t beat that guy up for you. I just can’t stand abusive men. I would have done the same for any woman being hit. Now get lost!” Milo seemed to lose control of his emotions. After yelling, he dragged me straight into a taxi. I stared at my wrist, reddened from his tight grip, and looked down. Tiffany didn’t give up, running after our car. The driver noticed and asked us: “That woman seems to be looking for you. Should I stop?” Milo snapped irritably: “No need. Let her run if she wants!” Then he took my hand again and continued: “After dinner, let’s go for a walk by the river. We haven’t been to that island in a while. Didn’t you used to say you loved watching the night view there together?” He seemed to be earnestly discussing our plans. But he didn’t realize his eyes had glanced at the rearview mirror countless times, and his fingers were fidgeting unconsciously. This was his habit when he felt anxious and uneasy. No one knew him better than I did. I looked in the rearview mirror too. Tiffany was still persistently running after the car. She must have been running too fast, because she suddenly tripped and fell. “Stop the car!” Milo shouted. The car door flew open before we had fully stopped. Milo rushed out towards Tiffany, not even bothering to close the door. In the rearview mirror, I saw Milo help Tiffany up and wipe away her tears. Tiffany grabbed Milo’s hand and put the amulet she had brought around his wrist. Milo made no move to pull his hand away. Instead, he gazed at Tiffany with eyes full of concern. I looked away and closed the open car door. “Let’s go, driver.” My heart felt desolate. Two weeks ago, when I received that phone call, I had a feeling something was about to happen between Milo and me. I was at work when I suddenly got a call from Milo’s colleague. “Something’s happened to Milo, come quickly!” My heart sank. I immediately took time off and rushed to Milo’s company. When I arrived at the lobby, I saw Milo pinning a man to the ground, beating him. The rage and frenzy on his face was something I had never seen before. It was completely at odds with his usual gentle demeanor. The man on the ground was already bloodied and immobile from Milo’s punches. But Milo showed no signs of stopping. If this continued, something terrible would happen. I called Milo’s name from the side. But he acted as if he couldn’t hear me. As he raised his fist again, I rushed forward and grabbed his arm. “Milo, stop!” “Get lost!” He shoved me away without even looking. Caught off guard, I fell hard, bruising my palms and knees. The pain brought tears to my eyes. Just as I was about to get up, I saw Tiffany rush out from the crowd, crying. “Milo, stop!” With just one shout from her, Milo stopped. I stared at him in shock, the pain in my body suddenly magnified, stimulating my tear ducts. Tears streamed down my face. Tiffany went over and pulled Milo up, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth with red-rimmed eyes. “Does it hurt?” Milo shook off her hand, seeming annoyed, but immediately responded to her. “It doesn’t hurt at all. Stop crying, you’re already ugly enough without crying making it worse.” He then “angrily” tapped the tip of Tiffany’s nose. At that moment, they looked more like a couple. While I was like a clown who had fallen to the ground. A chill of unease spread through my heart. Someone quietly reminded Milo: “Mr. Smith, your wife is here.” Milo turned and saw me, panic evident on his face. “Lena, when did you get here? How did you fall? Are you hurt?” I suddenly felt like laughing, but as I laughed, the tears flowed even harder. In the past, no matter how out of control Milo got, he would always calm down at the sound of my voice. He once whispered in my ear: “Lena, when I’m angry, I can’t hear anyone else’s voice. Only yours can calm me down.” He said: “You’re my anchor.” But now? Now, how had that person become Tiffany? A woman he had complained about to me for three years. He always said: “I’ve never seen someone so stupid, she can’t even do simple tasks.” “Not only is she ugly, she doesn’t even know how to dress herself. It’s really affecting the company’s image.” “I’ll fire her soon and hire a new assistant.” But his actions didn’t lie. Since Milo’s heart had already shifted, I didn’t want it anymore. Tiffany had been Milo’s assistant for three years. When she was first hired, Milo and I had just gotten engaged. Tiffany had a boyfriend at the time. In the first year, I often heard Milo scolding her. “She can’t even make a simple spreadsheet properly. I don’t know how she got her degree.” “I’ve reminded her many times to dress up a bit when meeting clients, to maintain the company’s image. She’s already plain-looking, and she doesn’t even bother with makeup. It’s embarrassing!” “I can’t stand this assistant anymore. I’ll have HR fire her tomorrow and find me a new one.” But Tiffany always stayed. In the second year, Milo and I officially got married. Tiffany wasn’t on the guest list for our wedding. After the wedding, while Milo was in the shower, I happened to see a text message pop up on his phone on the table: “Mr. Smith, I broke up with him today.” I frowned, not understanding why an assistant would need to report her personal relationship status to her boss. And on the day of our wedding, no less. When Milo came out of the shower, I asked him with his phone in hand: “Why is Tiffany telling you about breaking up with her boyfriend?” Milo seemed just as confused. “How would I know? This girl must have issues!” He took the phone, glanced at it, then tossed it aside in disgust. “Not only is she plain-looking, but she also picked a lousy boyfriend. He was always emotionally manipulating her, even physically abusive. She could barely focus at work.” Seeing his disgusted tone, I didn’t think much of Tiffany at the time. But things seemed to quietly change. In Tiffany’s third year at the company. One night, I posted a photo on Instagram of Milo and me holding hands while walking along the Thames. A comment immediately popped up in the comments section: “Your husband is cheating!” The attached photo showed Milo hugging Tiffany. I had seen group photos of Milo’s company employees before. Among the many pretty, stylish girls, Tiffany was the plainest one – bare-faced with a sallow complexion. Having been in love with Milo for so many years, it’s not like he hadn’t been pursued before. A university graduate, tall and handsome, with a decent job. There was no shortage of attractive women with good personalities chasing him. He never paid them any attention. After firmly rejecting them, he would hug me and post a photo on Instagram saying “My wife is the best!” to show his sincerity. Of course, I’m no slouch myself – graduated from a top university, with a job and looks to match his. So I thought there was no way he would be interested in Tiffany. Plus, Milo had explained it to me beforehand. It was during a company team building event, playing Truth or Dare. They probably lost and had to do it as a punishment. But this incident planted a small thorn in my heart. So later I went to Milo’s company. Tiffany really was just like in the photo – no makeup, dressed simply, with a sallow complexion. Sitting among a group of pretty girls, she really didn’t stand out at all. When Tiffany saw me, she shrank back, her eyes showing a timid, submissive look. When she came over to pour me tea, her hands shook so much that she spilled tea on my skirt. She turned red with fright, apologizing in a trembling voice. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!” Her shaking hands tried to wipe the tea off my skirt. When Milo saw this, he yelled at her. “You can’t even do this simple task right. Get out!” Milo came over and carefully asked if I had been burned. Tiffany disappeared from my sight, crying. All along, Tiffany had been the one getting scolded. She was timid, ordinary, with no charm at all – the blurriest face in the crowd. I thought Milo really did dislike Tiffany. But why, in the third year, would he lose his temper and fight for Tiffany’s sake? I went to find out what had happened. The man who was beaten was Tiffany’s boyfriend Kevin, now her ex-boyfriend. Apparently Tiffany wanted to break up with Kevin and had moved out of their shared apartment into the company dorms. Kevin didn’t agree to the breakup and came to the company. They must have disagreed while talking, and during the argument, Kevin slapped Tiffany. Milo happened to see it. Milo immediately rushed over and started beating Kevin without a word. Kevin, unhappy about this, went to the police and had Milo detained for 15 days. Before going in, Milo hugged me tightly and said he would give me a proper explanation when he got out. But where was the explanation? Was it him anxiously abandoning me to help Tiffany up when she fell? Or was it him obediently wearing the amulet she gave him? I sat alone in the car, my heart like dead ashes. When I got home, the table was still set with the welcome home meal I had prepared for him. I sat at the table, waiting until dark, watching the delicious food go from fresh to spoiled. But Milo never came. I lay down to rest. Milo came back very late. He came over and hugged me, softly calling my name: “Lena, Lena…” I closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep. He went to the bathroom. I happened to see the amulet clearly visible on his wrist. Milo came out of the bathroom just as his phone rang. Probably thinking I was asleep, he answered in a low voice. “What is it?” The bedroom was dark and silent. I heard the voice of Milo’s colleague and friend David. “Tiffany quit her job to avoid affecting you over that incident.” “I heard she’s been harassed by that ex-boyfriend she broke up with for you after dating him for 10 years.” “She likes you. I don’t believe you can’t see it.” “She’s done so much for you. Don’t let her down.” Milo was silent for a long time, so long I thought he had already hung up. Then I heard him say: “I know.” The other side of the bed sank. Milo had lain down too. Usually he would come over and hug me while we slept, but this time he lay with his back to me. The space between us felt like an unbridgeable chasm. It couldn’t be filled anymore. His phone screen lit up all night. The next morning, after Milo left for work, I didn’t go to the office. My stomach wasn’t feeling well, so I took a day off to go to the hospital. I happened to run into Milo’s friend David. He saw me too. “Let’s sit down and talk,” I said. David spoke frankly. “No need. I know what you want to ask about. It’s about Tiffany, right?” “Tiffany isn’t as pretty as you, not as accomplished, doesn’t come from as good a family.” “But she cooks for Milo, takes his place drinking at business dinners, and is always there to comfort him when he needs it most. That’s what men really want. You can’t give him that.” “Milo’s family background isn’t great. Marrying you was like selling himself to your family as a live-in son-in-law. He’s worried about being looked down on by your parents, treating you like a princess. Do you know how much pressure that puts on him? What man wants to live in such a suffocating environment?” “So don’t ask why. You should reflect on yourself first.” I was shocked listening to these words. It’s true my family background is better than Milo’s, but my parents liked him because he was steady and ambitious. They didn’t ask for anything material when we got married. Even our home was prepared by my parents. Later they gave Milo a lot of support and help with his work too. You could say his success today is largely due to my parents’ behind-the-scenes support. But now, he complains all of this is pressure? I remembered our wedding day, when he earnestly recited his vows, promising to never let me suffer for the rest of my life, to love only me forever and ever. If he ever betrayed me, may heaven strike him down! Now that’s become pressure too? The bitterness in my heart spread. I laughed through my tears. When I got home, Milo was on the phone. When he saw me, there was obvious panic on his face. He immediately turned and went to the balcony to continue the call. A few minutes later he came back in, looking very annoyed. “This new assistant is such a headache, calling me over every little thing.” I looked down. Actually, I had heard. He was talking about resumes and job hunting. The only one who needed to find a job now was Tiffany. I just didn’t expect Tiffany’s resume to be sent to my company. My colleague in HR kept praising her resume after seeing it. “This person’s resume is so beautifully done, it’s practically perfect!” The moment I saw the resume, I knew it was Milo’s handiwork. The color scheme and layout all showed his personal style. Back in university, it was well known that Milo made excellent resumes. When we started working, he carefully designed and formatted all my resumes for me. I once told him adoringly: “You should do resume writing as a side job this graduation season. You’d make a fortune for sure.” He laughed and pinched my cheek. “My time is precious. I only have time for your resume, no one else’s.” Now, all those “only you”s felt like a joke. I looked down, an idea forming in my mind. When I returned the resume to the HR colleague in charge of hiring, I casually mentioned: “This applicant looks pretty good.” My hint was taken. And that’s how Tiffany joined our company. She still came bare-faced, with a sallow complexion, wearing a plain white t-shirt and faded jeans. She also wore the same amulet as Milo on her wrist. When she saw me, she wasn’t surprised at all. On the contrary, she greeted me very naturally. “Hello!” I glanced at her without responding. In the break room, besides me and Tiffany, there was also Lisa who loved playing matchmaker. “Tiffany, you don’t have a boyfriend, right? Let me introduce you to someone. He comes from a good family.” Tiffany hesitated, about to refuse. But when she saw me come in, her expression suddenly changed, and so did her attitude. She smiled and agreed. “Sure, Lisa. I’d be happy to meet him.” Scalding hot water overflowed from my cup, but I didn’t notice. “Careful, it’s hot!” Though her words sounded concerned, there was a hint of challenge in her face. At dinner that night, Milo ate while absentmindedly looking at his phone. Suddenly, he slammed his phone down on the table. “Are all women so desperate to get married? All they think about is going on blind dates!” I was startled by his unusual outburst. Blind date? I thought of Tiffany and Lisa’s conversation in the break room earlier. I didn’t ask who he was talking about. Pretending not to know, I just said: “It’s normal for single men and women to go on blind dates at a suitable age, isn’t it? Why are you so angry?” Milo was taken aback, unable to respond for a moment. He just kept putting food in my bowl. “Eat more, you’ve gotten thinner lately.” At 10:30 that night, Milo got a phone call. We were sitting in the living room watching TV. When the phone lit up, I glanced at it casually. It was Tiffany! Milo nervously scratched the back of his head, cursing as he hung up. “What’s she calling for so late at night? Is she crazy?” He put his phone on silent and back in his pocket. He continued sitting next to me watching TV as if nothing had happened. But he became restless and uneasy. Sighing constantly, scratching his head repeatedly. I pretended not to notice. After about 15 minutes, he finally stood up. “I just remembered I have an email I need to deal with. You keep watching, I’ll go take care of it.” I gripped the remote control tightly. “Mm.” Our study was soundproofed, considering that whoever was working inside shouldn’t disturb the other person. So Milo never closed the door when he was in there, saying: “I’m afraid I won’t hear you if you call me.” But now, the study door was tightly shut. A few minutes later, the door suddenly burst open. Milo rushed out, hurriedly putting on his coat. “I’ve told you before, there’s nothing between me and Tiffany. Why are you doing this?!” His face showed annoyance and anger. I didn’t understand. “What did I do?” “You know very well!” With that, he stormed out the door. Since he mentioned me, I could only follow to see what was going on. I didn’t know. I hadn’t done anything, yet I was getting this anger for no reason. I followed Milo to a bar. From a distance, I saw Tiffany crouched alone by the roadside. She seemed different from usual today, wearing makeup and a white dress. In the cold wind, she looked pitiful and fragile. When she saw Milo get out of the car, she immediately stood up and ran towards him, crying. On the last step, she stumbled and fell right into Milo’s arms. Milo naturally reached out to steady her. They looked just like a loving couple on the street. Tiffany nestled in Milo’s arms, sobbing. “I shouldn’t have bothered you and Mrs. Lin so late, but he touched me and I was so scared.” Milo immediately took off his coat and draped it over Tiffany’s shoulders. “I told you, no matter what happens, you can call me anytime. Remember, anytime at all.” What sincere words! He had said the same to me before. I felt as if I had been nailed to the spot, my whole body numb. The cold wind blew at me from all directions, the chill in my heart spreading to my limbs. “Milo!” I called out to him. They both looked at me at the same time. Tiffany instinctively pushed Milo away. “Don’t misunderstand, there’s nothing between Mr. Smith and me.” “I was just so scared, I didn’t know who else to call for help. I had no choice but to call him.” “Don’t blame Mr. Smith. If you want to blame someone, blame me.” As she spoke, she cried even harder. The coat slipped off her shoulders as she sobbed, revealing her arms bruised purple. When Milo saw me arrive, there was still a hint of guilt and panic in his eyes. But when he saw the bruises on Tiffany’s arms, his gaze instantly turned cold. He reached out to help Tiffany put the coat back on, shielding her behind him. “You don’t need to apologize to her. If it weren’t for her setting you up with this scumbag, you wouldn’t have suffered this abuse.” “If anyone should apologize, it’s her apologizing to you.” I stared at Milo in utter disbelief. Suddenly understanding why he had gotten angry earlier that night. Was he upset about Tiffany going on a blind date? Or did he mistakenly think I had set Tiffany up with an abusive date? Or was he angry that Tiffany had been mistreated? Or all three? But he was wrong. None of those things had anything to do with me. The wind stung my eyes. I took a deep breath, controlling my emotions. “It wasn’t me.” “It’s not Mrs. Lin’s fault. I wanted to meet him myself.” Tiffany rushed to answer, her eyes brimming with tears. She went over and tugged on Milo’s hand, looking at him pitifully. “I heard the company was gossiping about you beating up Kevin for me, so I thought if I got married quickly, people would stop talking about you.” Milo’s face darkened. “Don’t worry about the company gossip. And you don’t need to cover for her.” “She set you up on a date without checking the guy’s character first, causing you to be abused tonight. That’s her fault.” Milo looked at me. “Lena, apologize to Tiffany.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295253”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #浪漫Romance #魔幻Magic