Category: English

In my past life, my sister, Ivy Bright, urged me to skip class, play online games all night, and sleep through lessons. Whenever I tried to study, she mocked me for pretending to be “so serious.” But at night, she was burning the midnight oil, studying in secret during holidays and meeting with star scholars like Mia Goldstein at the library. When the SATs came around, she got into Ivy Tech University, graduated to work at Stellar Innovations Inc., and married a programmer making hundreds of thousands a year. I, on the other hand, scored just 200 points, earning the disdain of my parents, who sent me to Midland Assembly Plant to screw bolts. Later, I married a guy like Trey Walters, who abused me even while I was pregnant, leading to my tragic death during childbirth. At my funeral, Ivy wore her mask of sorrow and said, “Hazel was so smart but refused to apply herself. Everything she faced was her own doing. Unlike me, who always worked hard and changed my fate through education.” Then, I opened my eyes. I was back at the Cyber Zone Lounge, locked in an intense gaming session with my team.

I shook my drowsy head, grabbed my grimy backpack, and sprinted home. At home, Ivy was furiously scribbling notes under her desk lamp. Seeing me, she quickly stashed her study sheets. “Hazel, why are you back? Now your team is one short. How will they win without you?” It was always Ivy who dragged me to the lounge. Then, she’d yawn, fake being tired, and sneak off to study at home. I grabbed my untouched SAT prep books and taped my target school, “Harvard-MIT Alliance,” on the wall. Ivy’s face darkened with rage. “You? Harvard-MIT? Who do you think you are?” Not only would I aim for Harvard-MIT, but I’d show her that natural talent could never be surpassed by hard work. The smoky, sweat-filled air of the Cyber Zone Lounge lingered in my memory as my teammates shouted obscenities after a loss. It hit me—I’d been reborn. I was back at seventeen, just one month before the first major SAT mock exam. I didn’t care about the commotion I left behind. Grabbing my filthy bag, I bolted. “Hazel, you promised to carry us to gold rank!” they yelled after me, but I didn’t turn back. My future mattered more than their fleeting victories. When I got home, it was 1 a.m. Ivy’s light was still on, her silhouette reflected in the window. Her pen raced across the paper. I barged into her room. Ivy jumped, hastily shoving her study guide under her arm. Smirking, I recorded her with my phone. “You said you were too tired to study. So why are you still up?” I yawned. Feigning nonchalance, she replied, “Oh, I woke up to use the bathroom and realized my backpack wasn’t packed. I’m just fixing it before going to bed.” Ivy turned off her lamp. I returned to my room, flicked on a desk light I hadn’t used in ages, and opened my blank prep books. In my past life, I barely scraped into high school by cramming during my final weeks of middle school. Ivy, meanwhile, convinced me that being friends with the “cool kids” mattered more than grades. The school’s “pay-to-play” Honors Track was filled with rich kids who slacked off but bought their way in. I believed Ivy and started skipping classes to hang out with them at Cyber Zone Lounge. We measured status by gaming prowess, and I became the best of them. But I hadn’t realized they were all wealthy. By senior year, they transferred to private international programs or left for prestigious overseas schools, ready to inherit family businesses. My parents, though, were just regular workers. Without good grades, I had no future except assembly lines. At Midland Assembly Plant, Trey Walters—a worker with bleached blond hair—took an interest in me. I mentioned it to Ivy, who cheered me on. “True love is priceless,” she said. “If Trey loves you, that’s all that matters. Love conquers all.” I believed her. Trey and I moved in together, had a baby without a wedding, and barely signed the marriage certificate. Once married, Trey started beating me. Drunk, he’d mock me. “You and Ivy came from the same parents. Why is she so brilliant while you’re as dumb as a pig?” I cried bitterly, wondering where I had gone wrong. I used to be the smartest one—the girl who could solve problems at a glance, memorize pages instantly. My middle school teachers couldn’t believe I had failed my SATs.

My tragic fate culminated in a difficult labor. Trey refused a C-section, resulting in both my baby and me dying. On my deathbed, I called Ivy endlessly, but she claimed she was too busy. The moment I passed, she showed up. At my funeral, people shook their heads, saying, “How did such a bright girl end up like this?” Ivy put on a show of grief. “Hazel was so smart but wasted her potential. Her downfall was her own fault. Unlike me, I worked hard and changed my fate through perseverance.” Once everyone left, Ivy gloated over her victory. Turns out, Ivy had always been jealous of me. As a child, I was the center of our parents’ attention. Her envy consumed her. She manipulated my trust and orchestrated my downfall. This time, I wouldn’t fall for her tricks. I wrote “I will get into Harvard-MIT” in bold letters and taped it above my desk. Opening my freshman-year textbooks, I started from the first page. By 3 a.m., I’d finished two books, every concept burned into my memory. I caught two hours of sleep before heading to school at dawn. By the time my classmates arrived, I’d already memorized both volumes of freshman English vocabulary. “Hazel Bright’s actually studying? That’s a first!” “Only six months until the SATs. Even if she tries, the best she can hope for is community college.” “With her grades? A state school’s out of reach. She’ll end up in some overpriced private college at best.” I ignored the chatter. My scores would do the talking. Ivy showed up late as usual, barely beating the bell. “Hazel, why didn’t you wake me up this morning?” she complained. “I’ll be at school by 5 a.m. from now on. Set your own alarm if you want to join me.” Ivy looked puzzled. “Why would you get here so early? You don’t even study.” From behind me, Ethan Carrington chimed in. “Your sister’s been up since dawn memorizing vocab. She’s already gone through two books. Something’s seriously up with her.” Ivy froze, then exploded, “Hazel, we’re just here to get a degree. After we graduate, we’ll both head to Midland Assembly Plant. I’ve heard top workers make good money there—over $3,000 a month!” I pulled out my phone and played the video I’d recorded. “If the assembly plant’s so great, why are you sneaking in late-night study sessions?” Ivy’s face went pale. Ethan grabbed my phone and barked, “Ivy Bright! No wonder you always ditch our games midway. You’ve been secretly studying all this time!” “All that effort, and you still only scored 400 points? Guess your brain’s not built for this.” Ivy flushed with rage. She opened her notebook and tried memorizing vocab, but after ten repetitions, she still couldn’t get it. After school, I still went with the rich kids to the Cyber Zone Lounge. I wasn’t about to cut ties with them. Someday, they’d be valuable connections. In my past life, Ivy snatched up all the relationships I’d worked so hard to cultivate. This time, that wasn’t happening.

After leading my team to five straight wins, I rushed home. When I walked in, my parents immediately went on the offensive. “Well, look who decided to come home early! Didn’t you say you’d rather die at Cyber Zone Lounge than come back here?” “Why don’t you just stay there forever? Let’s see what kind of SAT scores you’ll pull off.” In my last life, my parents had tried everything to get me to study, but I blindly believed Ivy’s lies and rebelled. Eventually, they gave up on me, only making sure I wasn’t starving but otherwise washing their hands of me. After my death, though, they mourned for a long time. My mom was hospitalized from the grief. I dropped to my knees with a thud. “Mom, Dad, I’m sorry. I was so stupid before. I’ll study hard and get into a good college—I swear!” My mom turned to look at me, stunned. Then she quickly wiped her tears, pretending she wasn’t crying. My dad helped me up immediately. “It’s alright. You finally understand. I always knew you weren’t a bad kid at heart. There’s not much time left, but give it your all. If it doesn’t work out, we’ll figure something out—even if it means another year of preparation.” I nodded firmly. “Don’t worry. I’ll get in on the first try. I’m aiming for Harvard-MIT Alliance!” Ivy stepped out of her room holding her notebook. “Hazel, why are you back? Weren’t you gaming with Ethan and the others at Cyber Zone?” She walked up to me, fake innocence dripping from her expression, before dramatically pinching her nose. “Eww, Hazel, you reek of cigarettes! The smell is unbearable!” My mom leaned in, sniffed, and instantly slapped me across the face. “I knew it! You can’t change your ways, can you? Lying about studying, coming home stinking of smoke. With grades like yours, scoring 200 on the SAT, and skipping class to play games, if you can get into Harvard-MIT, then pigs might fly!” Disappointed, my dad sighed and followed my mom back to their room. Alone with me, Ivy dropped her mask. “Hazel, stop wasting your time. Six months isn’t enough for you to surpass me. I’ve been holding back; I’m not just a 400-point scorer.” I laughed coldly and walked to my room. Words wouldn’t convince anyone—I’d let my results speak for themselves. Weekly tests rolled around, and while I showed improvement, my scores were still far from passing. Ivy, on the other hand, dropped her façade and performed at her real level—second in the class and tenth in the grade. The homeroom teacher praised me, saying I had a shot at getting into a state college. I glanced at Ivy’s test papers. She hadn’t solved the hardest questions. Her brain just wasn’t built for it. Ivy shoved her paper in front of me, pointing at her scores. “Hazel, look! I got a perfect score in English and 129 in math. What about you?” She pretended to examine my scores. “Wow, a 59 in math? So close! If the test was out of 100, you’d be just one point away from passing. Too bad it’s out of 150, and passing is 90.” “Oh, and you’re so much better in reading and writing—60 in English! Your verbal scores definitely beat your math!” Ethan tried to console me. “Hazel, maybe studying isn’t your thing. You’ve stopped pulling all-nighters with us at Cyber Zone. Without you, we’re losing ranks like crazy!” Ivy jumped in with fake scolding. “Ethan, don’t say that about my sister. She’s aiming for Harvard-MIT!” The whole class erupted in laughter. “Seriously? Hazel Bright, the future Harvard-MIT scholar?” “With a total score under 400, she thinks she can get into Harvard-MIT? That’s hilarious!” “She must think she owns Harvard-MIT and can just waltz in whenever she wants.” Ignoring them, I pulled out a SAT prep workbook and got back to solving problems. Suddenly, my homeroom teacher, Mr. Gregory Nash, barged into the classroom, waving a stack of scratch paper. “Hazel, is this yours?” I nodded, confused. To my surprise, Mr. Nash hugged me. “You’re a genius, Hazel! An absolute genius!” “The principal always says I can’t teach beyond General Track students. But here I am, proving him wrong—teaching a future Harvard-MIT student!” Ivy froze in shock. “Mr. Nash, my sister’s scores improved, sure, but she only got 397. How could she possibly get into Harvard-MIT?” Mr. Nash patted my shoulder proudly. “She’ll make it. Hazel is the smartest student I’ve ever taught.” Ethan muttered, “Is Mr. Nash losing it?” Mock exam results came out, and the school rankings were posted in the hallway. Ivy ranked 20th in the grade. I placed 988th. Ivy immediately seized the chance to mock me. “Wow, Hazel! You’ve improved so much—up to 988th! Harvard-MIT is just around the corner!” Laughter echoed through the halls. The grade director, who had been watching, muttered, “Hazel Bright should be ranked first in the grade.” Ivy’s face twisted in anger. “Hazel’s scores are pathetic. Why does everyone believe in her? There’s no way she can go from 200 to 700 in six months!” Leaning close, I whispered, “Want to know why everyone believes I can make it to Harvard-MIT?” I spread out my test papers and answer sheets in front of her. Ivy’s eyes widened as she scanned them. “This can’t be real!” “It’s impossible! You must have cheated! I’m reporting you!” My answer sheet was a masterpiece. I’d ignored all the simple, basic questions but solved every difficult one, using elegant shortcuts. Ivy had only answered half of the questions I had—and she’d gotten some wrong. Grabbing my papers, she stormed into the principal’s office, bursting in without knocking. “Principal Price, I’m here to report Hazel Bright from 11-B for cheating on the mock exam!” Inside, the principal sat with several teachers, analyzing my test papers. Seeing us, Dr. Price gestured for me to join them. “Perfect timing, Hazel. We were just discussing your results. Can you explain why you left all the easy questions blank but solved the hardest ones so well?” “I didn’t want to discourage my peers. If I went all out from the start, my scores would be too intimidating. I’ll save my best performance for the final mock and the SATs.” I glanced at Ivy, whose face darkened. Mr. Nash laughed. “Exactly as I thought! Hazel’s strategy is brilliant.” Dr. Price made an immediate decision. “Both Hazel and Ivy are being transferred to the Honor Track.” I refused the transfer—it didn’t matter where I studied. Ivy, however, declined for one reason: she needed to stay close to sabotage me. After school, Ivy gathered Ethan and some others to corner me. “Hazel, let’s do an all-nighter at Cyber Zone tonight. I’ve got a big promotion match.” I agreed, leading them to five more wins before heading home. Just as I was leaving, a man, at least seven or eight years older than me, leaned over from behind and wrapped his arms around me. “Your moves are sloppy. Let me teach you.” The stink of body odor and cheap cologne made me gag as I slipped away. “Who the hell are you?” Ivy stepped forward. “Hazel, this is Rocco Delgado, the most powerful man around here. With him protecting you, no one would dare mess with you.” Rocco lit a cigarette, blowing smoke rings as if he were the star of some cheesy movie. “Hazel Bright, I like you. You’re my girlfriend now. Let’s go.” Ivy shoved my bag at me, grinning. “You’re so lucky, Hazel. I’ll cover for you with Mom and Dad.” Rocco reached for me, but I darted away. “Don’t touch me.” Rocco grinned, revealing yellowed teeth. “Quit playing hard to get. Your sister says you throw yourself at men all the time.” Ethan stepped between us, pulling me behind him. “I don’t care who you think you are, Rocco. Back off. Lay a finger on Hazel, and I’ll end you.” Rocco, furious at being challenged, lunged at Ethan, who held his ground.

The fight landed us all at Midtown Police Precinct. Ethan sported a few bruises, but Rocco looked worse—his nose broken as he whined to the officers. When my parents arrived, they were livid. “You’re not only ruining yourself, Hazel, but dragging Ivy down with you. How many times do I have to tell you to stop being a bad influence?” My mom tried to slap me again, but an officer stopped her. “Mrs. Bright, please calm down. Things aren’t what they seem.” Before the officer could explain, Ivy burst into tears. “Mom, I’ve been trying so hard to help Hazel. She’s improved her scores recently, so I thought if I kept her away from gaming, she could do even better. I saw her at Cyber Zone again tonight and tried to bring her home, but then she got involved with this guy, and things escalated.” “Maybe you should send her to Internet Addiction Rehab. Once she’s better, she can take the SAT again and aim for Harvard-MIT!” My mom sighed heavily. “Maybe that’s the only way. Hazel used to be so bright, but gaming has ruined her. I’ll call the rehab center tomorrow.” Ethan, head bandaged, rushed to defend me. “Mrs. Bright, Ivy’s lying! She’s the one who dragged Hazel to Cyber Zone tonight. She even set Hazel up with Rocco, trying to force her into being his girlfriend. Hazel refused, and that’s why I stepped in!” Ivy’s face turned pale as she stammered, “Ethan, I know you like Hazel, but you don’t have to make up stories for her. Why would I ever associate with someone like Rocco?” “If Hazel’s such a saint, why does Rocco say she’s been hanging around him for ages?” My mom, without waiting to hear more, slapped me. “I’m so disappointed in you, Hazel. If you won’t focus on school, at least stop hanging out with these kinds of people. You’re going to Internet Addiction Rehab tomorrow. And you’ll cut ties with Rocco.” Behind my mom, Ivy smirked triumphantly.

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Adrian pointed at the row of clothes on the rack and instructed me, “Try them on for me, one by one.” I replied, “Sure thing.” Quite the playboy, aren’t you? When I changed into a red sheer uniform, his gaze became intense. I’m just a stand-in, trying on clothes so he can find traces of his ideal lover in me… He said he wanted someone both innocent and seductive. I can act that out – acting is what I do best! “Move in with me. I’ll transfer money to your account monthly,” Adrian said to me. Although I consider myself attractive with a great personality and no bad habits, I didn’t think I was worthy enough for a handsome CEO of a listed company to offer to pay for my company. One should always be self-aware. When good fortune falls into your lap, don’t rush – remember to ask why. “Are you sure you’ve got the right person? I’m Lily.” Adrian didn’t even look at me. “I’m not blind.” “Besides keeping you company, is there anything else I need to do?” “What else can you do?” Adrian continued to keep his head down, casually signing a few documents. I was left speechless. “One last question,” I swallowed hard, hesitating as I chose my words: “You’re offering me so much money per month. You don’t have any… special preferences, do you?” Adrian finally looked up, his narrow eyes peering at me through his gold-rimmed glasses. “Such as?” Thinking of some unhealthy scenarios I’d read in novels, I counted on my fingers as I gave examples: “Like… some light BDSM or something?” Adrian: “…No.” I let out a sigh of relief. “I’ll move in tonight!” I’m not usually one to take shortcuts. As a D-list actress, I once had dreams too. But dreams don’t put food on the table, pay off debts, or cover my mom’s expensive hospital bills. I need money. Although I occasionally feel conflicted about taking this shortcut, I remind myself that even a boyfriend might not be as handsome as my sugar daddy. I feel like I’m going to wake up laughing from this dream. What more could I ask for? That evening, I moved into Adrian’s villa in Westbrook. The villa was huge. I obediently followed the housekeeper, Mrs. Thompson, as she led me to the guest room with my luggage. Mrs. Thompson had a kind face and kept smiling at me. Just as she was about to speak, I interrupted her. “Were you going to say I’m the first girl the boss has brought home?” Mrs. Thompson was surprised. “How did you know?” Of course, it was my years of experience reading romance novels that told me. But it was actually true? Soon, I understood why Adrian had chosen me. On the night I was prepared to give myself to him, Adrian led me into a walk-in closet in the villa. He pointed at the rows of uniforms and dresses on the racks and instructed, “Try them on for me, one by one.” I said, “No problem.” Let alone changing clothes, I’d be willing to do a striptease on the spot if he asked. Thanks to my acting experience, I was familiar with uniforms and changed quickly. As long as he showed no reaction, I immediately moved on to the next outfit. When I changed into a red sheer uniform, Adrian told me to stop and call his name. Suddenly, it all made sense. I understood. Thanks to all those romance novels that had educated me so well. In an instant, I was certain that I was being used as a stand-in. He had me try on one outfit after another, looking for the one that would evoke the feeling she gave him. I swayed in the sheer outer layer of the uniform, as thin as a cicada’s wing, thinking to myself, his ideal lover likes to wear uniforms? That’s quite different. I just wonder which part of me resembles her – my voice? My figure? A similar face? And I wonder when his ideal lover will return. But even after calling his name until my voice went hoarse, Adrian remained motionless. I couldn’t help but suggest, “How about I act it out? I’m an actress, a professional.” Adrian thought for a moment before making his request: “I want someone who’s both innocent and seductive.” Well, if that’s what you like, you should have said so earlier. I quickly adjusted my voice and expression, then called his name: “Adrian.” Adrian: “Have you ever considered that there might be a reason why you’re not famous?” That felt like an arrow to my knee. His voice was hoarse: “Call me again.” I obediently called out: “Adrian.” Adrian picked me up in his arms and carried me to his bedroom. I’m 5’9″ and weigh about 100 pounds, but he walked steadily. His bedroom was spacious, and so was the bed. Before I could admire his king-sized bed or feel the soft memory foam mattress, Adrian started tugging at my uniform. I said, “The clothes look expensive. Take it easy, will you?” Adrian replied, “You should worry about yourself.” An hour later, I felt like I was worth less than the uniform. There were two used condoms in the trash can, and my legs were trembling. Adrian turned on the night light and leaned against the headboard. The warm yellow light traced the curves of his face, highlighting his perfect nose bridge and thin lips. There was a mole at the corner of his narrow eyes, giving him a distant look, completely different from the passionate man he had been in bed moments ago. Adrian reached for a box of cigarettes. “May I smoke?” the sugar daddy asked me. Of course, the sugar daddy could do whatever he wanted. I said, “Give me one too.” We smoked our post-coital cigarettes in silence. As I was about to get up to find the bathroom, Adrian rolled over and pressed himself on top of me again. I blushed and my heart raced as I asked him, “What’s wrong?” He whispered, “One more time.” “You can go anywhere in the house except the study,” Adrian said as he stood by the bed, fastening the last button of his suit, back to his usual executive look. I lay in bed, feeling a bit weak as I nodded and said, “Okay.” That fits – there must be secrets about his ideal lover in the study that he doesn’t want others to see. I’m not very curious and definitely won’t go there. Besides, today I just want to stay in bed. Suddenly remembering something, I asked timidly, “Can I sleep here?” Adrian looked puzzled. “Is the bed not comfortable?” I waved my hand. “No, it’s not that. Isn’t it usually the case that the kept woman can’t sleep in the sugar daddy’s bed? The sugar daddy’s bed is only for…” Adrian asked, “Only for what?” Only for the ideal lover. Of course, I didn’t say the words “ideal lover” out loud. In romance novels, the ideal lover is usually off-limits for the male lead. I changed the subject: “Only for you to sleep in.” Adrian looked down at me. “My bed is quite large.” Probably meaning one more person wouldn’t make much difference. He picked up his phone from the bedside table and reminded me before leaving: “Read fewer romance novels.” Me: … Adrian was a good sugar daddy. Apart from liking to mock me and wanting me to change into a uniform before sex, he had no other strange habits. We not only had harmonious interactions in bed but also communicated well outside of it. He would even glance at the soap operas I was watching and say, “This lead actress’s acting isn’t as good as yours.” Looking at the lead actress’s exaggerated expressions… Thanks, I guess. It’s a compliment, but not entirely. When we came across a particularly melodramatic plot, he couldn’t help but criticize: “No wonder the TV department’s net profit is so low this year.” Sometimes when he saw me playing Ring Fit Adventure at home, he would connect his console and play the two-player mode with me. In the end, I would be panting and exhausted like a dog, while he seemed to have barely broken a sweat. He looked at me and smirked: “You’re so out of shape. No wonder you pass out after three rounds.” I retorted: “You look so handsome when you smile.” Adrian was taken aback, the tips of his ears turning slightly red. My relationship with Adrian as sugar daddy and sugar baby was more like roommates sleeping in the same bed. Late at night, my roommate’s stomach growled, successfully waking me up. With bleary eyes, I asked, “Should we wake up Mrs. Thompson to make you something to eat?” Adrian said, “No need. Mrs. Thompson is resting. Let her sleep.” Although Adrian was rich, he didn’t have any of the bad temper often associated with wealthy people. Even when he was so hungry his stomach was rumbling, he didn’t want to wake up the sleeping housekeeper. This was quite different from the stereotypical CEO in novels. Hearing his response, I turned on the light, wide awake now, only to find Adrian’s forehead covered in cold sweat. I was startled: “What’s wrong?” Adrian revealed a pained expression: “Stomachache. I had some drinks earlier.” I knew Adrian had stomach problems. Although he was a second-generation rich kid who inherited the family business and hadn’t experienced the hardships of starting a business from scratch, he worked very hard. Often, I would wake up after a nap to find the light in his study still on. His assistant had mentioned to me a few times that Adrian had a weak stomach and asked me to remind him to eat. He had come back from a business dinner tonight, and I thought he had eaten, so I didn’t remind him. “I’ll go get you some medicine.” Following the principle of not letting my sugar daddy die of illness, I helped Adrian boil water and get his medicine. After watching him take it, I was no longer sleepy, so I went downstairs to make him some porridge. Having lived on my own for years, my cooking skills were quite good. Soon, the kitchen was filled with the fragrant aroma of porridge. I heard Adrian come downstairs and stand silently behind me. I said, “Wait a moment, it’s almost ready.” Adrian responded with a deep “Mm.” Then he stood behind me, motionless. Even with my back turned, I could feel his intense gaze. I thought to myself, stay calm, he must be thinking of his ideal lover. And I guessed that his ideal lover must have been a good cook. Considering how much he was paying me, I could cook for him a few more times, letting him reminisce a bit more. Just as I felt the gaze on my back intensifying, and I thought he was about to pounce on me. He simply walked to my side and pinched my cheek. After being kept by Adrian for over a month, apart from visiting my mom in the hospital and checking on my dad to make sure he hadn’t attempted suicide after his failed business venture, I entered a state of complete unemployment. I seriously asked my agent, Sam, about the dos and don’ts of getting along with a sugar daddy. And I more seriously recalled what the female leads in similar situations in novels usually did. The answer was, apart from falling in love and engaging in battles of wit with various women who appeared around the sugar daddy, they didn’t seem to do much else. At this moment, I also received Sam’s reply: “What’s there to pay attention to? Just make some money, be a heartless gold digger. Ask for gifts and pocket money, you know?” He also sent me a voice message: “Honey, men are temporary, but money will always be with you.” I thought about it and realized he had a point. However, given my relationship with Adrian, which was so peaceful that I felt embarrassed to ask him for more money. Finally, when I was so bored that I started taking walks in his big villa, Adrian, who was handling business in the living room, finally noticed me. He asked, “Do you need something?” I scratched my head: “Sort of, but not really.” Adrian said, “If you don’t have anything to do, come over here and pick a script to act in.” Huh? Pick a script? I can still act? Wait, I’ve never picked a script before. Usually, scripts pick me, and they’re quite picky about it too. I quickly moved to Adrian’s side and looked at several scripts on his tablet. They were all big IPs. I get to choose which one to act in? Is this the joy of taking shortcuts? The corners of my mouth were about to reach my temples. Adrian, as if guessing what I was thinking, coldly said from the side, “I don’t want to lose money, so just find a supporting role to play. Don’t even think about the lead role.” Oh, excuse me. But a supporting role is fine too! I’ve never been in such a big IP production before. In the end, considering Adrian’s opinion, I decided to audition for two scripts. Adrian nodded and sent a message to his assistant to give the directors a heads-up. I stared at his profile, with gratitude and confusion written all over my face. “I have a question, but I’m not sure if I should ask?” Adrian said, “You shouldn’t.” I pretended not to hear and continued to express my curiosity: “Given our relationship, shouldn’t you be keeping me confined at home right now, only allowing me to accompany you, not work, not socialize, to avoid attracting others? After all, I have nothing but my beauty.” Adrian was speechless again. His thin lips parted slightly as he looked at me for a long time. Finally, Adrian said, “If I’ve committed a crime, let the law punish me, rather than having to listen to you narrate a cheesy romance novel here.” In the end, I was confirmed for a supporting role in a big IP production. I would play the prince’s loyal and secretly-in-love maid who ultimately dies for him. A likable character who is loyal, beautiful, brave, and not catty. On the day of the costume fitting photoshoot, even Sam seemed to be holding his head a little higher. There, I ran into Sam, an actress I had conflicts with in previous productions. She was also playing one of the prince’s maids, but with fewer scenes and a less likable character. Sam sneered at me and Sam, taunting, “Well, well, when one person rises to power, even their pets benefit. Found yourself a sugar daddy, didn’t you?” I touched my face and asked Sam, “Is it that obvious?” Sam’s face immediately turned ashen, too angry to speak. Sam, on the other hand, laughed like a cackling hen while holding his Birkin bag. I said, “Bro, tone it down a bit. You’re being too flamboyant.” He gave me a side-eye and quipped with a limp wrist, “My darling, one of my bags is worth more than her entire paycheck for this show. What’s she got to brag about?” Another episode in the “My Agent is Richer Than Me” series. I said, “Is there a possibility that my paycheck might be less than hers?” Sam patted me reassuringly: “But you have Mr. Adrian, don’t you?” I sighed, looking up at the late autumn sky. Indeed, now all I have is Mr. Adrian. Filming required traveling, and although it was just in the suburbs of the city, it wasn’t convenient to return to Westbrook every day as it was too far. This meant I would be living apart from Adrian for a while. The day before I joined the crew, Adrian was unusually enthusiastic. During a break, I asked, “Do you work out regularly?” Adrian: “Yes, every morning when you’re sleeping.” I felt dizzy, finally understanding what it meant when they say that people who are better than you are also working harder than you. Adrian ignored my half-dead expression and continued what he was doing earlier. I almost forgot whether I fell asleep or passed out in the end. The next day on set, I discovered that Adrian had hired a personal assistant for me, and my usually neglectful company had also sent PR staff to eagerly help me take photos. Sam asked, “How does it feel to take shortcuts? Awesome, right?” I smiled weakly, “It’s great, just exhausting.” Sam screamed, “Don’t brag to me!” Heaven knows, I was genuinely tired. At the same time, Adrian hadn’t contacted me for two days. Although I felt a bit lost, I thought to myself, this is normal. I had to constantly remind myself that I was just a stand-in, not his ideal lover. He didn’t need to talk to me every day. Until the third day, when he actively sent me a “?” message. Then he asked: In those romance novels you read, can you go this long without talking to me?

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On Black Friday, while I was trying to score $1 flash deals on Amazon for contraceptives, Daniel Belmont was busy clearing Sabrina Keller’s cart. A brand-new triple-fold smartphone. A luxury face cream priced in the five figures. Sabrina gleefully posted on Instagram Stories: “Loving someone is like tending a garden. My boss says I’m worth it.” Suddenly, I realized how meaningless this relationship had become. I quietly deleted every item connected to him from my Amazon cart and booked myself a luxurious trip to New Zealand. …… Content Daniel Belmont’s executive assistant, Sabrina Keller, just posted another Instagram Story. This time, it featured multiple shots of him. His back, wearing an apron as he made ginger sugar tea. A grinning selfie of the two of them in the mirror. A close-up of him asleep on her lap, his profile softened by sleep. “Triple fold—it doesn’t matter how it folds, he’s still so handsome.” Scrolling up, I found her bragging about her emptied shopping cart. Dozens of items, totaling over $20,000. I glanced at my Amazon page. Twenty pounds of budget laundry detergent. Two massive packs of tissues. A new mop, broom, and toilet brush set. And, of course, the $1 contraceptives. All together, barely over a thousand bucks. Daniel had told me he had a dinner meeting that evening and wouldn’t come home because he didn’t want to disturb me if he came back drunk. Apparently, he was at Sabrina’s loft instead. My heart felt heavy as I called him. But the voice on the other end wasn’t his—it was Sabrina’s. “Hi, Claire. The boss is in the shower. If there’s anything you need, you can just tell me instead,” she chirped sweetly. The wave of hurt I’d been holding back vanished, replaced by disgust. Her ploy was crude and outdated, but it worked. I felt sick. “Sabrina, cut the act. You’re not in a position to represent my husband.” I hung up, deleted every single item in my cart, and headed to the kitchen. I had a pot of hangover soup simmering on the stove. Every time Daniel had a late night, I’d wait up to make sure he’d have something warm when he came home. This time, I poured the entire pot into a container and brought it next door to Martha Griffin, my neighbor. Afterward, I took the expensive ceramic pot I’d specially bought to make his soups—a $500 purchase I’d justified as “good for his stomach”—and smashed it in the garbage area downstairs. I’d spent years buying him expensive things, making sure he had the best of everything. Yet here I was, scavenging Black Friday deals, pinching pennies on essentials, all to keep our home running smoothly. For what? To play the role of the perfect, frugal, self-sacrificing housewife? Not anymore. I grabbed Daniel’s card and went on a spree: seasonal designer handbags, couture dresses, and, after some thought, a luxury trip to New Zealand. All together, less than $10,000. I stared at the total in a daze. I’d spent years putting his needs above mine, always finding ways to save—even though he was the CEO of Belmont Enterprises. And now, all the money I’d saved went to tending his “flower garden.” I was supposed to be his partner. But I wasn’t as bright or lively as his executive assistant. Suddenly, it all felt meaningless. That was when Daniel finally called. The moment I answered, he started yelling, his voice sharp with anger. I could even hear Sabrina softly crying in the background. “Claire Hudson, what gives you the right to humiliate my people?” So, Sabrina was “his person” now, was she? “All you do is ask for money and stir up drama. What else are you even good for?” “She’s so much younger than you—a kid, really. How can you treat her like that? Have some decency!” “I—” He didn’t give me a chance to speak. “Do you even know your place anymore? You’re in your thirties—stop acting like some jealous teenage girl.” His words hit me like blows, one after another, leaving me breathless. “Why don’t you take a good look at yourself in the mirror? Stop meddling in my business. I don’t have time for your petty tantrums.” And with that, he hung up. Not long after, Sabrina sent me a private message. “Claire, you’re older and more experienced. Can you tell me if this is bad for me?” Attached was a photo of an emergency contraceptive. “I want to take it, but the boss said no. He’s worried it’ll hurt me. He cares so much.”

I didn’t respond. Instead, I began packing for New Zealand. Maybe the time away would help me clear my head and figure out what I wanted. But life rarely goes as planned. Scott Emerson, the guide coordinating my trip, called to let me know that the weather in New Zealand would be stormy for the next week, and we’d have to delay the trip. Disappointed, I set my packed suitcase aside. Two days later, Daniel finally came home. We hadn’t spoken since the argument. He’d become so distant over time. He always claimed to be “busy with work.” Our communication had dwindled to almost nothing. If I didn’t message him first, he wouldn’t reach out at all. At home, his phone notifications never stopped, and his eyes were always glued to the screen. When he walked through the door, I jumped. I’d almost convinced myself he’d stayed with Sabrina. Daniel glanced at me on the couch, then at the dusty floor, his brow furrowing. “Claire, the floor’s dirty.” I knew. When I didn’t respond, his frown deepened. He set a mango-flavored ice cream cake in front of me and softened his tone. “Still mad? Fine, I was harsh, but you’re being petty—” He cut himself off abruptly. “Forget it. Just try the cake, okay?” I pushed it away. His expression darkened, but before he could say anything, I said, “I’m on my period. Can’t eat cold stuff.” Only then did he notice the heating pad in my lap and my pale face. Finally, he relented and called a cleaning service. He sent me to rest in the bedroom and even brought me ginger sugar tea. My cramps were unbearable, and I drifted off into a restless sleep. In my dreams, old memories resurfaced. Daniel used to say he loved coming home to see me bustling around the house. It made him feel grounded. Like we were building a real home. So, I’d fired the cleaning lady and taken on everything myself. He used to remember my cycle. Before I even noticed, he’d clear out the freezer and stock up on chamomile tea. Now, the tea was at Sabrina’s. And his first thought coming home was to criticize the floor. I woke up still unsettled. The heating pad was gone. From the muffled voices outside, I realized I wasn’t alone in the house. Throwing on a blanket, I stepped out—and there she was. Sabrina, sitting on the couch, wearing Daniel’s shirt, her legs tucked under her. She was sitting on my favorite stuffed animal. “Stop playing dumb. No sneaking ice cream behind my back,” Daniel scolded playfully, handing her my heating pad. “Just one bite? Please?” she pouted. Daniel chuckled indulgently and offered her his half-eaten popsicle. She leaned in and bit into it, her lips brushing where his had been. Noticing me, Sabrina’s face lit up in a bright, saccharine smile, ice cream smudging her lips. “Claire! You’re up! Have you eaten? Want some water?” If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was the lady of the house. Daniel quickly withdrew the popsicle, looking sheepish. “Sabrina’s place had a power outage, so she’s staying here. Don’t overthink it.” “Of course. Safety first.” My calm seemed to relax him. I poured myself a glass of water and returned to the bedroom. Daniel’s focus was entirely on Sabrina. He didn’t even notice that the tea in the kettle was cold. I’d told him earlier—I couldn’t drink cold things. But, of course, he’d forgotten.

I buried myself under the covers and opened my phone. Over the years, I hadn’t been idle. I’d written several novels and saved up quite a bit of money. One of my books had even been considered for adaptation, but the producers insisted I join the production team, so I declined. Back then, I had to stay home to take care of Daniel Belmont. But now, it was time to plan for myself. Maybe it was time to end this marriage. If Sabrina Keller wanted my leftovers, she could have them. I messaged Linda Mitchell, the producer, and she was thrilled. We scheduled a meeting to discuss details. My mood lifted. Ignoring the laughter outside my bedroom, I locked the door and went back to sleep. I slept peacefully for the first time in ages. The next morning, I woke up early. My cramps had eased, and for once, I felt like treating myself. I decided to go out shopping for new clothes. After all, I still had a trip to New Zealand to look forward to once the flights resumed. Around midday, I sat on a bench at Westfield Grand Mall, resting from the day’s shopping. Then, out of nowhere, I spotted Sabrina. She was practically skipping into a luxury store, clinging to Daniel’s arm. She was glowing with excitement, admiring the displays, while Daniel followed, smiling indulgently. He called over a sales associate and requested a few handbags. Sabrina tried each one, striking little poses in front of the mirror, her sweet laughter filling the store. At one point, she said something that made Daniel playfully tap her on the forehead. From where I sat, Sabrina reminded me of myself. The carefree, blissful me from when Daniel and I first got together. That forehead tap—it was a gesture Daniel used to love doing to me. I felt a wave of revulsion. Had he found someone who looked like me just to relive our past? I called Daniel. Across the walkway, I could see him clearly. His expression didn’t change as he answered and calmly claimed he was “in a meeting at the office.” “Daniel, why don’t you turn around?” In the next second, our eyes locked. His face cracked, just slightly. I stood and strode into the store, yanking the handbag from Sabrina’s hands. She flinched, retreating behind Daniel and tugging at his jacket nervously. “Daniel, you promised me this bag when it first launched. So why is it in her hands now?” Daniel stepped forward, shielding Sabrina. “Claire, don’t cause a scene here. Sabrina’s new to the workforce—she needs a few things to make an impression.” This bag was a rare find. Westfield Grand Mall only had one in stock. I refused to let go. “But you promised it to me.” “Do you really have to make such a fuss over something so trivial?” Sabrina was already in tears, her sobs echoing softly through the store. Daniel suddenly exploded, snatching the bag from my hands. He grabbed a nearby letter opener and slashed the leather to shreds in a matter of seconds. The force of his movements threw me off balance, and I slammed my lower back into the corner of a table. “I’m buying this bag,” he snapped at the associate. “Please have it destroyed and disposed of. And while you’re at it, send every new-season bag and a selection of classics to this address.” He rattled off Sabrina’s address before turning to wipe her tears with his fingers, his voice tender. “Don’t worry. As long as I’m here, no one will bully you.” I clutched my throbbing back, unable to stand upright. “Claire Hudson, you’re a housewife. What do you even need a handbag for? I’d rather destroy it than let you have it. What can you possibly do about it? You’ve become absolutely unbearable.” And just like that, the fragile thread holding my composure snapped.

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Late at night, I had a car accident while taking the child to the hospital. In a daze, I heard Lucas’s voice. “I used to think she was weak and cold. I loved her so much that I wished I could give her my heart.” “Now, she’s older, her emotions are extremely unstable, and she’s even more difficult than young women like you.” In the haze, I saw a woman standing beside him. That woman is the reason for our constant arguments these days. For nine years, I have been drowning in the past. But I forgot that he is ultimately not the same person. The night before I decided to leave, I burned everything that belonged to the past. I will no longer be obsessed with what has come before. My emotions can be stable too. Later, he crazily questioned me: “Tell me! Who is it that you really love?” I felt confused and detached: “Sir, could you please calm down a little?” 0 When I became conscious, I was still not clear-headed. Lucas’s voice continued to echo in my ears. “The child has such a serious fever; I really don’t know how she cares for him!” “I have never seen such an irresponsible mother.” A few seconds later, I heard a gentle female voice. “Lucas, no matter what, Lina is still Liam’s mother. There isn’t a mother in the world who doesn’t love her child.” “It’s all because of me that you have become like this.” “Now even the child has been affected; you should explain to her that we are not what she thinks we are…” Lucas coldly snorted: “Not all mothers love their children. If she loved her child, would she have gotten into a car accident?” “If she loved her child, would he be burning with fever in the middle of the night?” “She fills her mind with nothing but love and affection, completely neglecting the child.” My consciousness gradually cleared. When I slowly opened my eyes, I saw Susan. She was back-to-back with Lucas, gathered around Liam’s hospital bed, as if they were a family. My heart suddenly felt a sharp pain. They have long been a family. I am the outsider. When did they get together? Probably three years ago, when Lucas was always abroad. I always thought he was busy with work overseas. Until I saw the chat history between him and Susan on Lucas’s phone. Only then did I realize that they had so much to talk about. Susan is Zach’s ex-girlfriend. My relationship with her is neither good nor bad. It is the kind of relationship where we can exchange a few words when we meet, but if we don’t, we become estranged. Susan loved Zach so intensely that she nearly fell apart when they broke up. I never thought that she and Lucas could get together. I never thought Lucas’s heart could change so easily. Once a person falls into the haze of the past, they become paranoid. I didn’t speak or ask, pretending everything was normal. But emotions that have been suppressed for too long will eventually erupt. In the last year, we started to argue frequently. During our most intense fights, I acted like a madwoman, red-eyed, hitting him, scolding him, questioning him. When emotions surged, I was filled with negative energy. Even when Susan came to explain, I would scold her mercilessly. Susan sent Lucas the screenshots of our chats where I scolded her. Lucas protected Susan as if he were defending his own mother. He was afraid that Susan would suffer even a little grievance from me. For the past month, we haven’t said a word to each other. It seemed calm between us, but there was a silent war brewing beneath the surface. At this moment, the war finally ignited. All my obsessions were obliterated on this battlefield of life and death. I finally recognized the truth. He is no longer the same person. At this moment, Susan coughed a few times. Lucas immediately became very worried: “You just finished your IV; your cough isn’t better yet. I’ll take you back to rest.” Susan replied, “I’m fine. You two have made such a fuss because of me and Lina. I should at least come and explain a bit.” “If she had half your understanding, we wouldn’t be in this situation.” “Lina just loves you too much; her heart is always gentle and kind.” “Now she doesn’t even love the child; her heart has turned cruel.” “I’ll take you back first; don’t let her delay your rest.” I thought he came to the hospital because of Liam. It turns out he came to accompany Susan, who was sick, and happened to check on his son. He is so angry now, not because he is worried about his son. It is simply because I and the child have caused him trouble. A father who has reached this point is truly something else. He still has the nerve to blame me. I was just about to speak and tell them to get lost. But I heard my son’s weak voice: “Dad, my mom loves me very much.” My throat suddenly tightened. I have become a clown in my marriage. Everyone seems to want to drive me crazy. The one defending me is such a small child. 0

Tears welled up in my eyes. I really feel useless. Isn’t it just a man? What can’t I afford to lose? “Lucas, don’t fight with Lina for a divorce; divorce will only hurt the child.” Lucas coldly sneered: “Having a mother like her around Liam is harming him.” Susan interjected: “This is indeed too much of a psychological burden on the child. Liam has a fever; maybe it’s Lina trying to win you back. She really loves you. Don’t make the child suffer; he’s too pitiful.” “Besides, the Lina Family has just gone bankrupt. If you divorce her now, it’s like stabbing a knife into her heart. You should try to live well with her and don’t let it be because of me…” Lucas interrupted her: “Did you forget how she scolded you before, how she made you depressed?” Susan fell silent for a moment and sighed: “It’s all in the past. She just loved you too much, which made her act so extreme.” “I am indeed a pretty disgusting person. To provoke Zach, I deliberately got close to you. When I was sad and in pain, I always confided in you. It was my fault to play both sides between you and Zach; it has nothing to do with Lina.” Lucas responded, “Susan, you’re not wrong. I willingly became your tool. It’s Lina who is unreasonable and lacks compassion, which is why you became so severely depressed.” Susan shed tears, her voice choked: “I became depressed because of Zach’s ruthlessness; it has nothing to do with Lina. Lucas, don’t blame her.” Lucas sighed. “At this point, you’re still helping her? Does she understand your kindness?” “Don’t cry; it’s not good for your eyes. I’ll take you back.” In a moment, their voices gradually faded away. I slowly opened my eyes, looking at their backs. Lucas half-hugged Susan, tenderly wiping her tears. Their retreating footsteps felt like sharp blades, piercing directly at me. My head suddenly throbbed with intense and rapid pain, as if it wanted to tear me apart. This pain had appeared not long ago, leading to my car accident. I curled up, unable to tell whether it was physical pain or psychological pain. I just felt that the pain made me wish to die and subconsciously shouted Lucas’s name. Just like a drowning person nearing death, instinctively trying to grab a lifeline. Lucas’s footsteps paused. But he didn’t look back at me for even a glance. Susan wanted to turn back but was pulled away by Lucas. My last bit of hope was completely shattered. Darkness instantly enveloped me. The last bit of light disappeared from my vision. Just before I fell into a coma again, I saw someone rushing towards me. I tried hard to open my eyes wide, wanting to see his face clearly, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t see clearly. 0

“Lina…” His voice was so distant. As if it came from another world. But when it reached my ears, it was deafening. “Don’t look back; I’m not here…” For nine years, I finally accepted a fact. The person who once turned everything upside down for me had long died that bleak winter day. I looked at my rotting, irreparable self. Finally understood. I can no longer see the past. Everything should come to an end. The person who loved me as if his life depended on it. I will never see him again. 0

When I opened my eyes again. Liam was lying by my hospital bed, fast asleep. I raised my hand and gently stroked his hair. He is not the biological child of Lucas and me. In the first two years of marriage to Lucas, we didn’t have any children. I went to the hospital for a check-up, but it was my problem. The doctor said it would be very difficult for me to get pregnant, perhaps I would never be able to have children in this life. The Lu family initially maintained a superficial harmony. Slowly, they began to become dissatisfied with me. They would tell everyone that I couldn’t bear children, that I didn’t deserve to be a woman. They openly and secretly looked for new marriage candidates for Lucas. Lucas is the only son of the Lu family; he cannot have no children. I didn’t want to delay him, nor did I want us to eventually grow to dislike each other. So I took the initiative to propose a divorce. I thought my fate with him would end here. I went to the hospital for a check-up, and the doctor informed me that I had fertility issues, suggesting that I might never have children in this lifetime. At first, the Lu family maintained a facade of harmony. Gradually, however, their dissatisfaction with me grew. They openly and covertly sought new marriage prospects for Lucas, the only son of the Lu family, who certainly wanted children. I didn’t want to hold him back, nor did I want us to end up resenting each other. So, I took the initiative to propose a divorce, thinking that my relationship with him would come to an end there. But Lucas firmly chose me, insisting that his love wouldn’t waver just because we couldn’t have children. He bravely faced family pressure and we adopted a child together, naming him Liam—combining our surnames. He publicly declared his love for me. If I had to pinpoint when I completely fell for Lucas, it would probably be the moment he brought Liam home. Looking at the five-year-old Liam before me, I suddenly felt a rush of emotion. Three years ago, during the ordeal with Susan and Lucas, I tried my hardest to be accommodating and to heal myself. Every time I thought about giving up on our relationship, seeing Liam made me choose silence, asking nothing and saying nothing. All these years, I’ve been moving forward piece by piece. I always believed this couldn’t be our ending. Yet, the conclusion seemed already written; no matter how I tried to navigate it, I was destined for a dead end. A familiar pain began to throb in my head, and my heart ached as well. I glanced at the ceiling, tears streaming down my face once again. At that moment, someone walked in. “Don’t cry just yet. Although there’s a shadow in your brain, it’s not malignant; surgery can fix it,” said Zach, Susan’s devoted ex, now in a white coat, standing by my hospital bed with a teasing tone. A group of interns followed him, laughing at his words. Their laughter echoed around me, creating a chaotic noise. I numbly joined in their laughter. What could be more important than life and death? My joys and sorrows, my fleeting love seemed so trivial at that moment. 0

The commotion in the ward woke Liam up. He blinked sleepily, then looked at me with confusion. “Mom, you’re awake?” His little face was filled with delight. He was about to leap into my arms when Zach caught him, saying, “Your mom needs to rest.” He checked his watch. “Just in time to get off work; Uncle will take you to eat.” Glancing out the window, I realized it was already evening. I had been unconscious for so long. Yet, I still had no one to care for me. Liam was reluctant to leave with Zach. He broke free and ran toward me, leaning against the bed and looking up at me with his bright eyes. “Mom, I want to stay with you; I won’t disturb your rest.” His gaze was so pure, filled with expectation yet cautious. My heart ached, and I gently hugged him. “Alin, why don’t you go eat with Uncle?” Liam shook his head. “No.” “Why not?” “Everyone has someone with them, but Mom has no one; I want to stay with Mom.” His simple words weighed heavily on my heart. He was so small, yet so understanding. Yet, in the Lu family, no one loved him. I rested my chin on his little shoulder, and in the blink of an eye, tears fell. Though he wasn’t my biological child, he had long been a part of my life. “Mom, are you feeling unwell?” “Mom is fine.” “Don’t be afraid, Mom; I can take care of you; I can do it.” I nodded, tears streaming down like rain. After a long moment, I swallowed my sobs and tried to sound relaxed. “Is it okay to go eat with Uncle?” Liam was silent for a moment before nodding. “Okay.” He lifted his head and kissed my face. “Mom, don’t cry; I love you, I really love you.” I didn’t want to cry in front of him, but his understanding touched me deeply. Liam took a tissue and carefully wiped my tears, comforting me like an adult. “Mom is fine; I’m here for everything.” I held him close, shaking my head repeatedly. “I’m sorry; Mom will manage her emotions better in the future.” 0

When Zach brought the food over, I sat in a daze, my mind swirling with memories of the past years. It wasn’t until Zach waved his hand in front of my eyes that I snapped back to reality. He opened the small table on the hospital bed and placed the food on it. While opening the thermal container, he said, “I’ve sent Liam to a house near my hospital; someone is taking care of him, so don’t worry.” Zach was always cautious and responsible in his work. Leaving Liam with him was far more reassuring than leaving him with Lucas. I nodded. “Thank you.” Zach handed me chopsticks. “It’s nothing.” I took the chopsticks, but I had no appetite and only ate a couple of bites before losing interest. I looked up at Zach. “Aren’t you going back?” Zach joked, “I couldn’t stand seeing you look so pitiful, so I came to keep you company.” On the surface, he was joking, but I could tell he genuinely felt sorry for me. My father favored my brother, and my mother preferred my sister. They were a happy family of four, while I was just an outsider. Now, my family had gone bankrupt, and my parents jumped off a building together. They had long arranged an escape route for themselves, leaving my brother and sister to flee smoothly. Only I was left behind, abandoned with no one caring. Those relatives and friends from the past either took advantage of my misfortune or distanced themselves, showing no warmth. Now, I was facing Lucas’s blatant betrayal, alone in the hospital when I needed support the most. Who could witness this and not feel pity? But none of this mattered to me. I smiled. “I’m not pitiful at all.” Zach shook his head, looking down at my barely touched food, somewhat dissatisfied. “I made this myself, and you’ve only eaten a few bites?” I was surprised. “You can cook?” Zach replied, “What do you think?” I lowered my gaze. In the past, when I simply had a cold and lacked appetite, Lucas would personally cook to coax me into eating. He would notice my slightest change in mood. But ever since he got involved with Susan, he stopped caring about my feelings. Now, after nearly dying in this car accident, he remained indifferent. Entangled for two years, married for seven—nine years didn’t compare to a single Susan. Now we felt like strangers; it was truly laughable. Probably sensing that I was off, Zach tilted his head to look at me. “What’s wrong?” When no one asked me, I felt that everything was bearable. But at that moment, when Zach inquired, my eyes suddenly stung. Zach sighed, sat by the hospital bed, and wiped my tears again. “Please don’t cry; I can’t stand seeing women cry.” I pushed his hand away and took a bite of rice, eating silently. Zach watched me for a few moments before saying seriously, “It’s just a man; is it really worth it?” I swallowed my food. “I know it’s not worth it.” “You don’t understand; he’s done this to you, and you haven’t even considered giving up.” I poked at the rice in my bowl. “People aren’t lifeless; feelings don’t just vanish; there’s a process to letting go.” “I never believed someone like Susan could be more important than me.” “Now, it all seems irrelevant.” Zach didn’t respond, and I didn’t press further. Susan was his ex, and no matter what, she would always hold a more significant place in his heart than I did. Why should I make things harder for myself? 0

In the midst of the awkward silence, there was suddenly commotion outside the door. I looked up and saw Lucas walking in, holding Susan in his arms. It felt strange. In the past, the slightest sight of him with her would send my emotions into a whirlwind. But now, I felt surprisingly calm. I even thought their arrival alleviated the tension between Zach and me. I lowered my eyes and continued eating, ignoring Susan’s chatter. It was Zach who spoke first. “Isn’t it quite enjoyable to meddle in someone else’s marriage?” Susan broke free from Lucas’s grasp and hurriedly explained, “Lucas and I have nothing; Zach, you know who I love the most, right?” Zach smiled and nodded. “Yes, it’s because you love me so much that you hooked up with Lucas to find out about my situation, to comfort yourself.” Susan’s eyes turned slightly red. “So, you’ve always known my condition was bad? How much I wanted you, how much I loved you…” Zach stood up, interrupting her with a sneer. “You’re indeed in a bad state, bad enough to call Lucas ‘husband.’” “I really want to know, what does it mean to call my good brother ‘husband’?” As soon as Zach finished speaking, both Lucas and Susan turned their gazes toward me. Zach nodded with a hint of humor. “Right, you love me too much, so you flirted with Lucas just to find out how I’ve been doing and to comfort yourself.” Susan’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. “So, you always knew I was in a bad place? How much I miss you, how much I love you, to the point of… Ṱŭ̀⁵…” Zach stood up, interrupting her mockingly. “You’re in such bad shape that you’re calling Lucas ‘husband.’” “I’m curious, what do you mean by calling my close friend ‘husband’?” As soon as Zach said that, both Lucas and Susan turned their gazes towards me. I had secretly looked at Lucas’s phone and seen those chat histories. They must have assumed this was information I shared with Zach. But I had never told anyone. Because revealing such things would make me look ridiculous. Susan cried out, “Zach, you know that was just to provoke you! I…” Zach retorted, “Are you about to go and play the victim again to win Lucas’s sympathy?” Susan’s face went pale. “What?” “Is this amusing to you, Susan?” “I was just joking around, and you took it seriously?” “No matter what you and Lucas have going on, I couldn’t care less. I actually think you’re beneath me.” Staggering slightly, Susan weakly insisted, “I really have nothing with Lucas…” Zach sneered. “You really do talk like a rogue.” “You’ve turned into the other woman, yet you still claim to love me.” “Is this some twisted version of love?” “If you have nothing better to do, maybe you should go see a psychiatrist instead of living in your own fantasies all day.” Susan was left speechless by Zach’s words. After a few seconds of silence, she suddenly said, “You like Lina.” It wasn’t a question; it was a statement of certainty. I paused slightly, then laughed. To play along with Susan’s comment, I said lightly, “Zach, your cooking is too bland.” As I said this, I set my chopsticks down and looked faintly at Susan. Zach kept his head down, ignoring my comment. Seeing that Zach didn’t refute her, Susan got furious and pointed at my face, scolding me, “You really have no shame! You’ll do anything to get back at me; have you never seen a man in your life?” “No wonder your parents never loved you; a person like you doesn’t deserve love.” “You deliberately told Zach about my chat history with Lucas just to stir up trouble, didn’t you?” “With that kind of vengeful spirit, it’s no wonder Lucas doesn’t love you! What man would want someone like you?!” “You can’t stand it when others are happy; your heart is truly poisonous!” Not everyone in this world possesses self-awareness. Many accuse others of their own faults. I scoffed. “To be honest, if I hadn’t looked at those chat histories, I wouldn’t have known how flirty you are with men behind the scenes.” “It’s no surprise Zach doesn’t want you; someone like you is simply unappealing.” “Only Lucas wouldn’t be picky and would settle for someone as cheap and pretentious as you.” Struck at a sore point, Susan’s lips quivered with rage. She raised her hand, about to slap me. I grabbed a bowl and threw it directly at her, hitting her hand and splattering rice all over her face. Susan instantly looked disheveled, her expression twisted as she lunged to hit me. But Zach intercepted her. “That’s enough, Susan!” Saying this, he forcibly pulled the frantic Susan out of the room. Her crazed curses echoed outside the hospital room. It took a while for the noise to finally die down. The hospital room became quiet at last. In that moment, I noticed Lucas had been standing there the whole time. He hadn’t left, hadn’t spoken, nor made any movement. Only his gaze was cold, filled with anger. “You looked at my phone; I won’t hold it against you, but then you went and told Zach the details. Lina, how bored are you?” “Flirting with Zach? Do you think you can get revenge this way?” “The Zhou family won’t look at someone like you, a leech from a bankrupt family, and Zach definitely won’t want second-hand goods.” I snorted. “Of course Zach wouldn’t want second-hand goods; only you would.” Seeing my indifference, Lucas slowly approached me. The anger in his eyes was almost palpable. “Lina, I wouldn’t even consider you second-hand; think about how terrible you’ve become.” “Look at you now; what part of you could interest a man?” “A woman like you is truly hopeless.” His words struck me hard. All those unresolved past grievances hit me like a torrential summer rain. Dousing any remaining passion I had. For nine years, I had been drowning in the past. I had given Lucas a soul he never possessed. I just forgot; he ultimately isn’t who I thought he was. I gazed out at the myriad lights beyond the window. In that moment, all my obsessions slipped away. “Lucas, let’s get a divorce.” 0

Lucas probably never thought I would one day bring up divorce. He knows me too well. I’m someone who finds it hard to adapt to anything at first, but once adapted, I can’t let go. Feelings are the same. In the beginning, I didn’t accept him, but once I did, I wouldn’t leave. Over the years, he hurt me time and again. But I never turned against him, nor did I show any signs of wanting to leave. Now, however, I casually said the word divorce. He looked displeased, his expression darkening. “Divorce? Do you think I, Lucas, am someone you can just marry and divorce at will?” Lucas gently pinched my chin, forcefully turning my face to make me look at him. “Lina, I told you before, marry me, and you can forget about leaving for the rest of your life.” After saying this, he let go of my face. He turned and walked away. As if he was escaping, or perhaps utterly annoyed. He knows me well. And how could I not know him? I am the one he spent so much time and energy pursuing. His feelings were once all invested in me. I never doubted his love for me. But nine years is simply too long. Now I’m to him tasteless, but a pity to discard. He wouldn’t divorce me, but he also wouldn’t love me like before. Now, my family is bankrupt, and I have lost everything. At the moment I most needed to rely on him, I proposed divorce. This must have insulted Lucas. He is such a proud person; how could he tolerate me proposing divorce as someone he looks down upon? But I went ahead and proposed it; how could he not be angry? Once the decision is made, I won’t look back. Just like when I decided to marry him, I never thought of leaving. I got up and opened the window, letting the cold air surround me. A black car came into view. Lucas was leaning against it, smoking. But after only a few puffs, he clutched his chest, bent over, and collapsed to the ground. From a distance, his gaze turned towards me, motionless. The distance was too far; I couldn’t see his expression clearly. Just as I couldn’t grasp the complexities between us. 0

I watched the medical staff below hurry to gather. Then they pushed Lucas into the hospital. I thought I would forgive everything again and immediately rush to his side. After all, that heart had been cared for by me for nine years. That was the only remnant left by a deceased person in this world. But I didn’t move. Nine years. The seasons cycle, everything renews. Everything is no longer as it used to be. That heart no longer has his spirit. Lucas didn’t even have a rejection reaction. It had long become a part of Lucas’s body. It had his essence. It wouldn’t hurt because of my sadness. It wouldn’t only beat for me. So, I wouldn’t want it anymore. When I saw Susan crying as she followed Lucas’s moving bed, I could even tease and take a photo to send to Zach. “Your ex is crying so sadly; did you hurt her heart again?” “Lucas is going to heartbrokenly comfort your ex again.” It took Zach a while to respond. “Don’t send me these.” “I don’t want to see them, nor am I interested.” I: “?” “There won’t be anything between Lucas and her.” “The reason you and Lucas have come to this point lies within yourselves.” “If Lucas really loved you, he wouldn’t have entangled with other women.” “You don’t need to blame everything on her.” “And don’t use me to provoke anyone.” “I don’t want to be a part of your drama.” I was stunned for a long time. Before I understood what Zach was saying. I have to admit, Susan is quite powerful. Not only can she charm Lucas with just a few words, but she can also pull Zach into her camp in an instant.

The next day, Lucas was sent back to my side. Zach did not show up. Even the doctor in charge of me was changed. I tried to call to ask about the situation, but found I had been blocked by Zach. WeChat was also deleted. Looking at the red exclamation mark on the screen, I sighed softly and dejectedly put down my phone. A sudden wave of indescribable loss welled up in my heart. People always overestimate their importance in others’ hearts. He and Lucas are childhood friends, brothers. He and Susan are old loves, red dust… What do I count for? The next day, Liam was sent back to my side. Zach didn’t show up. Even the doctor in charge of my care was changed. When I called to inquire about what was happening, I discovered that I had been blocked by Zach. SnapChat had also been deleted. I stared at the red exclamation mark on my screen. With a soft sigh, I dejectedly set my phone down. An indescribable sense of loss suddenly surged in my heart. People often overestimate their significance in the lives of others. He and Lu Tinghan are childhood friends, like brothers. He and Susan are old flames, past loves… What do I count as? I’m not even a true friend to him. He truly only feels pity for me. That’s why he shows me that meager kindness. A heavy weight settled in my chest; I ultimately couldn’t remain detached. Since my birth, only two people have steadfastly stood by my side. One is him from my memories, and the other is Lu Tinghan. And now, I only have Liam. Only Liam remains. I glanced at the time; it was close to when Liam got out of school. Although I had arranged everything well for him, with someone specifically taking care of him, I truly missed him now. I changed clothes and went to pick up Liam from school. As I passed by a hospital room, I overheard the voices of the Lu family. “If you really like that Susan, then marry her.” “Your dad and I don’t care so much anymore, we just hope you’re happy.” “I told you long ago, without a biological child between two people, living together won’t work, but you wouldn’t believe it!” “If she can’t have children, she can’t understand the true feelings of being a mother; how much can a woman who hasn’t even had a child love you?” “Liam is not your biological child; how can the Lu family’s century-old foundation be handed over to an outsider?” “Listen, Lucas, if Lina is causing this scene now, and Liam is protecting her, when you’re old, will the Lu family still value your opinion?” “A child must be biological to be valuable, understand?” Although the Lu family has long looked down on me, hoping for me to divorce Lu Tinghan, I didn’t expect they could even accept Susan. Susan is Zach’s ex, and the Zach family looks down on her. Zach doesn’t think much of Susan either. The most image-conscious Mrs. Lu is actually willing to accept someone even the Zach family disregards. This shows how far they are willing to compromise for a grandchild. VIP hospital rooms are scarce. My room isn’t far from Lu Tinghan’s. But not a single person from the Lu family has come to see me. One can only imagine how much they detest my presence. I think that even if I had died in that car accident, no one would mourn for me; they would even applaud. At night, I waited at the entrance of the Lu family home for Mr. and Mrs. Lu. They seemed surprised to see me. But soon, their faces shifted to contempt. To them, people like me have always been beneath notice. Moreover, currently, their son doesn’t regard me favorably. They wouldn’t bother to give me a proper look. Mr. and Mrs. Lu had no intention of acknowledging me and walked straight into the house. I didn’t care about their attitude and calmly spoke: “I want a divorce.” Hearing the word “divorce,” Mrs. Lu immediately stopped, looking at me in shock. “What?” I met her gaze: “I said, I want a divorce.” Compared to Mrs. Lu’s shock, Mr. Lu’s reaction was more subdued. Mr. Lu said in a deep voice: “What are the conditions?” As expected from someone experienced in high-pressure situations, he remained calm and direct. I didn’t beat around the bush: “With your power, it shouldn’t be difficult to obtain the divorce certificate directly without going through Lu Tinghan, right?” Mr. Lu frowned, thought for a moment, and replied: “Lu Tinghan’s condition is unstable now; I can’t risk triggering him.” I laughed. “If you don’t agree, I have a thousand ways to provoke him.” “Don’t forget, I’m also a doctor; I understand the psychological state of patients very well.” “Especially Lu Tinghan’s condition.” Mr. Lu’s emotions wavered slightly; he glared at me angrily: “If something happens to Lu Tinghan, I won’t let you off easily.” I replied calmly: “Those without shoes don’t fear those wearing them. Mr. Lu, my patience is limited. Within three days, I want the divorce certificate and the assets I deserve.” “Otherwise, I won’t let Lu Tinghan have it easy.” “His heart was replaced by me, and I personally cared for it. I can easily make him wish he were dead.” After saying that, I turned to leave. The cold night wind swept in, and the moon hung high against the dark sky. I looked up at the deep, silent night sky of the villa neighborhood. Everything was quiet, like the conclusion of my life. Mr. and Mrs. Lu’s efficiency in handling things was impressive. Two days later, the divorce certificate was delivered to me. A sum of money also entered my account, enough for Liam and me to live without worries for the rest of our lives. Their only requirement was to keep it confidential and not let Lu Tinghan know about it in the short term. I agreed. As long as I could escape this marriage, it didn’t matter how. On the day of my discharge, I passed by Lu Tinghan’s hospital room. I saw Susan crying again. Lu Tinghan, as always, gently comforted her. “Don’t cry, Susan; I won’t divorce Lina. She just wants to be with Zach; it’s just a dream.” “Zach will always be yours.” “Zach can find anyone, but it can’t be Lina.” “When I’m better, I will make Lina apologize to you.” Susan cried so hard she could barely speak. “Zach has blocked all my contact information.” “He won’t have anything with Lina, but he doesn’t want me either.” “He’s just such a rational, clear-headed, and cold person.” “He keeps others’ matters at a distance, while handling his own decisively.” “His heart is both cold and hard; he won’t love me anymore…” So, it turns out, Zach cut all ties. Not just blocking me. I always thought he was a cold exterior but warm inside kind of person. Now it seems he’s cold inside and out. Now, the only thing Susan can hold onto is Lu Tinghan. Even if she doesn’t love him. With Lu Tinghan’s affection, she will live carefree for a lifetime. I was once someone who was cherished by Lu Tinghan. I know how intense his affection can be. Susan’s character is softer than mine, better at capturing a man’s heart, and more emotionally stable than I am. Lu Tinghan probably will never tire of her. I quietly exit the scene, allowing him and Susan to be together. This can be seen as a kindness, a good deed. After all, I have treated him as a stand-in for so many years; I’m not a good person either. Why should I make myself appear to be the victim? Just as Zach said, the fact that Lu Tinghan and I have come to this point is due to our own choices. Even if those reasons are unknown to others, they are indeed unrelated to Susan. I looked at the hospital’s stark white corridor. Slowly, I stepped away. In the deep night, I returned to the West River Moon villa. This is where Lu Tinghan and I became intimate; it is our home. A gust of wind blew, bringing the scent of medicine to my face. Not far away, the medicinal herbs I planted with my own hands swayed in the wind. These are what I used to make medicinal meals for Lu Tinghan. Nine years ago, I personally performed a heart transplant for him. From being a hospital doctor to becoming his private doctor, and finally his wife. I know his physical condition very well. I even went out of my way to learn about traditional Chinese medicine, consulting experts about the precautions for medicinal meals. As long as he is in the country, I basically cook his three meals a day. Over the years, under my careful care, his heart has remained very healthy. Even when Susan appeared, I didn’t mind. I thought I could continue, but I ultimately overestimated my tolerance. I still remember that day. I saw he looked unwell, so I made him medicinal meals to bring over. When I arrived at his company, he was in a meeting. I waited for him in his office. By the time I fell asleep, he still hadn’t shown up. As dusk approached, I groggily woke up. But the room was still empty. I sent him a message, but it sank without a trace. I went downstairs to prepare to leave but saw Lu Tinghan just getting out of the car not far away. And in the front passenger seat, Susan got out. Susan’s eyes were red, draped in his suit jacket. She looked particularly pitiful and weak. Lu Tinghan didn’t see me, half-embracing Susan as they walked toward the company. I hid in the cool night wind, the medicinal meal in my hand had long since turned cold. My heart also froze at that moment. I suddenly laughed. It’s no wonder Lu Tinghan would change his heart; over the years, I’ve cared for him like a servant, which is really dull. I picked up a shovel and completely destroyed all the medicinal herbs. Then, I went inside and cleared out everything related to me. I piled them on top of the destroyed herbs. After carefully checking that nothing was missed, I took out a lighter and set it on fire. The fire ignited with a whoosh. Burning brighter and brighter, as if it wanted to burn the past to ashes. I took out that red divorce certificate. Threw it into the raging fire. Everything is over. I came here with high hopes. Leaving with a heart like dead ashes. In the firelight, I took out my phone and blocked and deleted everyone’s contact information. Then, I entered the house and cleared out everything related to me. It was piled on top of the ruined medicinal materials. After carefully checking to ensure nothing was overlooked, I took out a lighter and lit it. The fire ignited with a whoosh. It grew larger and larger, as if it wanted to completely burn away the past. I took out the red divorce certificate. I tossed it into the roaring flames. Everything was over. When I arrived, I was filled with hope. When I left, my heart felt like cold ashes. In the flickering light of the fire, I pulled out my phone and deleted all of my contacts. I walked step by step out of this place where I had lived for many years. Finally, I also walked away from my unspoken obsession. — Late at night. Southern City Cemetery. I stood in front of Gavin’s tombstone for what felt like an eternity. In the photo on the tombstone, he still looked handsome and full of life. Time flies so quickly; in the blink of an eye, it had been nine years. I never imagined I would leave after marrying Lucas. I wanted to stay like this for a lifetime. Even if he changed his heart, even if he didn’t come home every day. As long as I could be by his side, that was enough. I don’t know when I started to become emotionally unstable. I also don’t know when I began to feel like a neurotic. At this moment, facing Gavin’s tombstone, I felt an inexplicable sense of guilt and melancholy. My heart had long ceased to be pure. I couldn’t even tell if I loved Gavin or Lucas. If it was Gavin, what would the ending have been? Memories of the past seemed to find a gap at this moment, flashing scenes of him before my eyes. “I don’t need you to be overly kind; just don’t be a bad person, and that’s enough.” “I’m here; I will always be here.” “Unless I die, I will love you forever.” “Even if I die, I will donate my heart so that it can beat for you forever.” His clear yet fragile voice echoed from a distant memory. I slowly sat down on the ground, resting my head against his tombstone. Memory is strange. All the moments between me and Gavin felt as vivid as if they had happened just yesterday. Yet the nine years I spent with Lucas felt faint and dull, as if a hundred years had passed. But I clearly hadn’t thought about the past in a long time. That dark chapter of my life was peeled away in my memory. I am the lost daughter of the Lina Family. In their grief, my parents adopted a girl named Lindsay to comfort the pain of losing their daughter. I was found when I was already fifteen years old. Though I am the legitimate daughter of the Lina Family, it was Lindsay they raised. Fifteen years is not fifteen days. Their feelings for Lindsay had long been deeply rooted. My parents, my brother. They all loved Lindsay, even though she wasn’t a member of the Lina Family. My return severely affected Lindsay. Lindsay hated me; she thought if I hadn’t come back, she would be the only daughter of the Lina Family, never knowing she was adopted. She could enjoy everything from the Lina Family without question. The Lina Family pampered Lindsay, treating her like their own daughter since she was little, never telling her the truth about her background, fearing it would affect her growth. But because of my arrival, all that beauty was shattered. Lindsay fell from being a rich young lady to being an adopted daughter. Many people laughed at her. She didn’t dare to speak out or act out; she just hid away and cried in secret. When the Lina Family saw her cry, they felt very sorry for her, taking her on trips to cheer her up, buying her gifts, and even publicly announcing that she would receive five percent of the Lina Family shares. Seeing that her family still spoiled her, Lindsay felt no affection for me, the biological daughter. So she began to plot against me. She made the Lina Family hate me more and more. I often heard my mom say to my dad: “It would have been better if she had died outside when she was little; then I would always remember her. Now that she has come back, we’re strangers, and we can never become a family. Her personality is so strange and annoying; no one wants to care for her.” “How can I love her? Just seeing her is enough; every cell in my body hates her existence.” “Just standing there annoys people.” They only knew I had a strange personality. But they didn’t know why I formed such a character. If everyone could grow up like Lindsay, surrounded by love, I think anyone would be gentle and likable. I thought that when I could be self-sufficient, I would completely leave the Lina Family. However, Lindsay could not wait for me to leave on my own. She was always afraid of being replaced by me. When I was in university, Lindsay bribed a human trafficker to sell me abroad. — Abroad, I experienced unprecedented torment. I was nearly dying there. But my parents did not come to rescue me. With a determination to die, I escaped from the compound, not knowing how many bones I broke when I jumped down from the high wall. When I was caught and brought back, I didn’t know how many organs were injured. I never thought about retreating unscathed. Even if I was injured, even if I was disabled, even if I was half dead, I still wanted to escape. I tried to escape time and time again, only to be caught again. Just when I was despairing to the point of dying. On a night when heavy snow was falling. In my dark life, a savior appeared. Gavin; at this moment, he still shone brightly in my memory. He saved me, cooperating with international police to take down the compound’s lair. I returned safely to my country. I had too many injuries on my body, and it took a long time to recover. However, I could no longer be a mother. This was something trivial to me. I never thought about marriage or having children; I had no expectations at all for marriage. I just didn’t expect that Gavin would like such a broken version of me. He picked up my pieces, bit by bit. He walked into the depths of my heart. He said it didn’t matter that there were no children; having me as his baby was enough. He understood my indifference and also understood my sincerity. He knew my disguise and understood my fragility. He not only treated me well but also understood my soul. All my dark sides could be laid bare in the sunlight before him. He would not despise me, nor would he make me change; he said all I needed was not to be a bad person. My heart, which felt like dead ashes, began to revive, like a white poplar tree in spring, slowly sprouting green buds. I began to love this world and learned to love and be loved. But heaven is always cruel. Just when I thought I would finally touch the beauty of this world. While he was on a mission, something happened. Before he died, he held my hand and told me to live well. The tender buds of the leaves had just begun to sprout when the tree was cut off at the waist, never to flourish again. How am I supposed to live… My heart was being torn back and forth, faintly burning. The images of losing him were tearing at the boundaries of the old past in my memory. Those heavy nightmares broke through the surface effortlessly. For so many years, I obediently lived on. Striving to make myself ordinary. I hadn’t deliberately remembered him, yet I had never forgotten him. Lucas was not like him. But he was the second person in the world who treated me well. I slowly sealed off the past. At the moment Lucas brought Liam back, the withered tree deep in my heart met spring again. However, the light of spring was too short. When Susan appeared, it quickly turned into a cold winter day, desolate and lifeless. In the end, Lucas and I were left with nothing. A cold wind blew by, and I sniffed. Cold fingers gently brushed against the face on the tombstone. “I’m leaving; maybe I will never come back.” “Take care.” — Three days after I arrived in a foreign country with Liam, a strange number sent me a flurry of messages.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295166”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

On our ninth anniversary, Milo, who hadn’t contacted me for days, suddenly invited me to our special place. When I arrived, rose petals were falling from the sky, and 999 love letters – one for each day we’d been together – descended from above. I was moved to tears, but when I opened a letter, it read: “My dearest Josephine.” Just as I was about to ask Milo what was going on, I saw Josephine’s Instagram post. “When you’re with the right person, you shine! P.S. Sorry, old lady, but your man’s love can’t be stolen!” The photo showed a property deed for what was supposed to be my marital home. As I stood there in shock, Milo burst in and started berating me. “The kid just wanted a romantic gesture. Did you have to be so jealous?” Calmly, I threw the letters and the house key at him. “Well, congratulations on your new marriage.” Milo’s hand slipped, and the letters and key fell to the ground. The key made a clanging sound as it hit the floor, shattering into pieces and stabbing my heart. So, even the key was fake. A flicker of guilt crossed Milo’s eyes, but he quickly became self-righteous again. “How old are you now? Stealing things meant for a kid. Opal, you really disappoint me.” Kid? If I remember correctly, Josephine is two years older than me. Apparently, as long as you’re with the right person, even at an older age, you can be pampered like a child. I suddenly found it laughable and couldn’t be bothered with Milo anymore. I turned and walked out. All the way home, I kept thinking about our nine years together. We’d been dating since college, and while it wasn’t passionate, everything had fallen into place naturally, calm and happy. Our friends always told me to hold onto Milo tightly. Although he was a bit old-fashioned, he was faithful and showed his love through small gestures. I really believed that his lack of romance was just his personality. Only now did I realize it wasn’t that he didn’t understand romance; it was that I didn’t deserve it. I called to cancel all the wedding arrangements. Finally, I went to a café. I ordered a coffee and a slice of cake. As the sweet cream melted in my mouth, it reached my heart, but suddenly made my nose tingle and tears fall uncontrollably. This was my favorite cake. Just because Milo said I was as fat as a pig, I hadn’t eaten it for years. All these years, I’ve really deprived myself of so much. I had barely taken a bite when I received a call from Milo. “Did you use our shared account?” I was stunned for a moment, then opened my phone. I must have accidentally used his $58 when paying. Suddenly, I remembered that the $100 limit on the shared account was something I had begged for. Just to prove he loved me. “Sorry,” I said softly, then transferred the money back to him and quickly unlinked the shared account. There was a pause on the other end. “I’m not concerned about those few dollars,” he said. “I’m just teaching you that women should be independent and not rely on men. No man likes a woman who only thinks about depending on men.” I didn’t say anything. Feeling awkward, he changed the subject. “The hotel just called me. Did you cancel the wedding banquet?” “Yes,” I replied casually while eating my cake. “That’s good,” he said, his voice filled with rare joy. “Two people living together sincerely doesn’t need all these superficial things. I’m glad you understand that.” Hearing his words, I wasn’t surprised. I was just amazed at his shamelessness. Just as I was about to speak, I received another message from Josephine. Apparently, to make up for ruining her surprise, Milo had taken her for a wedding photoshoot. In the photos, they looked intimate and blissfully happy. It’s impressive that he even found time to call me about the shared account. I smirked mockingly. “Milo, I thought you understood what I meant. Since you don’t get it, let me spell it out for you.” “We’re over. Is that clear enough for you?”

Before he could respond, I hung up the phone. I enjoyed my afternoon tea at the café, a rare moment of leisure I hadn’t experienced in a long time. I thought I would be devastated, but in reality, I felt calm. I calmly accepted giving up this nine-year relationship. The moment I let go, I felt a long-lost sense of relief. The phone kept ringing. Milo, his parents, my dad, my stepmom… I didn’t answer any of them and turned off my phone. Now, the world was quiet. As night fell, I had just gotten home when Milo arrived. He was carrying a half-eaten steak. He walked straight up to me and held out the takeout box. “You said you wanted steak last time, so I brought you some.” The steak was Josephine’s leftovers. I had seen her Instagram post. It was from a high-end restaurant where a single visit costs at least $100,000. She wrote: “Can’t waste leftovers, feeding them to the mutt!” And I was that mutt. Various sauces were spread over the half-eaten steak, and the cold, rank smell made me nauseous. I couldn’t help but vomit. “Take it away!” Milo looked at me with displeasure, but when he saw that I was actually sick enough to throw up, he frowned and took the food away. “You’re just too picky.” “Opal, my money doesn’t grow on trees. After we’re married, you need to learn to be frugal, understand?” I rinsed my mouth and wiped it clean. “So I save, for you and Josephine to spend?” Milo’s expression turned ugly in an instant. Perhaps my coldness made him sense something unusual. He pursed his lips, then threw a gift box at me that he had been hiding behind his back. The box wasn’t sealed, and when it fell to the ground, a white veil peeked out. The veil had some unidentifiable stains on it. Disgusting. “The kid has good taste. She picked out a veil for you. Try it on. Consider it my gift to you, so you don’t have to pay.” As he spoke, he tried to put it on me, but I stepped back, my eyes welling up despite myself. Milo. He never saw me as a person at all. “Keep it for yourselves,” I said. I turned to go into the room to pack my things, but as I was about to enter, Milo grabbed my arm. His grip was very tight. I cried out in pain as the wound on my arm was squeezed, causing fresh blood to flow. This was a wound I had received half a month ago when I protected him during a fight he got into for Josephine’s sake. The other party had pulled out a knife, and I had taken the blow for him. It hurt a lot. But he had said: “Josephine’s in shock. You go to the hospital by yourself.” “I’ll pay half of your medical expenses.” For once, a hint of guilt appeared in Milo’s eyes, but before he could say anything, he received a call from Josephine. After he hurriedly left, I immediately got a message from Josephine. “Just one word about not being able to sleep, and my darling comes running to tuck me in!” I replied coldly. “He’s all yours. A perfect match made in hell.”

After packing my bags, I called my best friend. “Opal, happy birthday! Did you get the gift I sent you?” Amber’s excited voice came through. Hearing her words, I couldn’t help but feel a lump in my throat, and tears started rolling down my cheeks. Today was my birthday. I had almost forgotten myself. “What’s wrong, Opal?” Amber heard me sniffling and became worried. “I’m just very touched. Thank you, Amber,” I said softly. “I want to come see you as soon as possible. Can you arrange the paperwork quickly? I’ve pretty much finished the handover here, and I don’t need to be here in person.” Amber’s company had gradually shifted its focus overseas. Half a month ago, I had agreed to work abroad with her. I had been trying to find a chance to tell Milo, but since getting injured, I hadn’t been able to reach him. And this morning at our special place. I had wavered. Maybe I shouldn’t leave. He does love me after all. Only now did I realize how unclear my thinking had been at that time. Amber paused for a moment, but she didn’t question me. “I’ll have someone prepare it now.” After hanging up, I called workers to remove all the decorations I had put up. Ironically, Milo had always said that we split everything 50-50. But between the lines, he was always implying that I was taking advantage of him. In reality, most of the things were bought by me. I was busy until 2 AM. After sending off the workers, I received a call from my friend. The flight was set for three days later. Looking at the empty room, I let out a deep sigh of relief, but suddenly received a call from Milo. “Josephine’s stomach doesn’t feel well. Your warm soup is pretty good. Make some and bring it over.” “Don’t overthink it. I just see her as a kid. Spending more time with her isn’t bad, right? Wouldn’t it be nice if we had a child as beautiful as her in the future?” “I don’t mind if you have one with her,” I said. After I finished speaking, Milo was silent for a long time. He seemed to want to scold me, but considering Josephine, he finally held back. “Stop joking around. If I really had a child with her, who knows how much you’d cry.” Milo’s tone was helpless: “I like you better when you’re kind-hearted, Opal.” The call ended, and Milo seemed certain I would go. But I didn’t go. Instead, I had a good night’s sleep. Early the next morning, I went out and returned to my hometown. I bought my mom’s favorite lilies and placed them on her tombstone. “Mom,” I gently caressed her photo. I didn’t want to cry, but seeing Mom, I couldn’t help but shed tears. “I probably won’t be coming back for a while.” “Maybe I won’t come back at all.” I choked up and said, “Please forgive me, Mom.” As soon as I finished speaking, I felt a sharp pain on my scalp. The next moment, I was violently pulled up and thrown to the ground. It was my stepmother. “Slap!” She gave me a hard slap across the face. “Don’t play games with me, you bitch! I’ve already taken Milo’s bride price. If I have to return it, I’ll kill you!” I covered my face and stood up. Then I viciously grabbed my stepmother’s hair, but just as I was about to pull, my dad gave me a slap too. “You ungrateful dog!” “Listen to your mother. She’s doing this for your own good.” Looking at the ferocious expressions of my dad and stepmom, in a daze, I suddenly saw Milo. He was standing right in front of me. Watching my pain, he just smirked. I heard what he said. He said, “Opal, no one will want you except me.” He was laughing at me, with no way out.

I stared at Milo. “What’s with that look?” he seemed annoyed. “Opal, you’re almost thirty, and still so immature.” “Do you know what your stepmom told me?” “She said if you don’t marry me, she’ll marry you off to your stepbrother. Have you forgotten how desperate you felt when your dad just stood by and watched as he tried to force himself on you?” “Opal, remember, it’s not that I’m begging to marry you. You’re the one desperate to marry me.” After he finished speaking, he smirked. Seeing the mockery in his eyes, I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. I once told him he was my hero. Descending from the heavens. Making me fall head over heels for so long. But one day, my hero came riding on a rainbow cloud. But he wasn’t here to save me. He was here to join others in bullying me. It’s truly, truly laughable. But he forgot one thing. Before I met him, I had once wielded a weapon and cracked open the skull of a villain. Just then, a phone rang. Josephine’s voice came through, “Honey, you promised to bring her over to apologize to me. I’ve got everyone gathered.” “You can’t let my friends laugh at me, or I’ll be angry and ignore you! Hmph!” Milo quickly lowered the volume and said a few words before hanging up. Then he turned to me. “The kid cares about face.” “You made her stomach hurt all day yesterday. It’s just an apology, Opal. Don’t make things difficult for me.” So, coming to find me was all about saving face for Josephine. I knew my place in his heart, but nine years still made it hurt out of habit. He dragged me into the car. I didn’t even have a chance to refuse before he brought me to the gathering. When we reached the private room, everyone looked at my disheveled state. “Didn’t big sis Opal put on makeup? Did she specially slap herself for blush?” Josephine said. After she finished speaking, the whole room burst into laughter. Milo held me tightly, and since I couldn’t break free, I simply sat down on the sofa obediently. Then I glanced coldly at Josephine, “I’m twenty-eight this year, but you’re thirty.” “Auntie Josephine, your wrinkles could trap flies. Stop pretending to be young. It’s fine to fool others, but don’t fool yourself.” Josephine’s face changed dramatically, and tears immediately fell. She shook Milo’s arm. “Look at her! Honey, is this what you call apologizing to me? Isn’t she just deliberately embarrassing me?” “Opal, apologize!” Milo looked at me coldly. I didn’t want to come in the first place. He forced me to come, and now this situation is his own doing. I didn’t say anything. Milo glared at me, then quickly and carefully comforted Josephine. “Sweetie, your tears are melting my heart. Don’t cry those precious pearls, okay? It’s my fault, my fault. You can punish me however you want.” “Really?” Josephine sniffled and choked out: “Didn’t you say Opal’s hair was too much, always falling on the ground and bothering you? Then as punishment, help me shave her bald.”

The time my stepbrother tried to take advantage of me, I made a big scene. My stepmother’s image of a kind mother in front of others crumbled. She angrily accused me of seducing her son, so she had my dad tie me up like an animal and cut my hair with scissors. She even shaved off my eyebrows. If it weren’t for my screams attracting the neighbors, she might have even carved words on my face. After that, whenever a single hair fell on the ground at home, I would suffer physical punishment. I was a tomboy for many years. And was despised by countless people because of it. I told Milo about my pain, but what I got wasn’t sympathy. He treated it as a joke to amuse Josephine. For nine years, I thought Milo would hesitate. But when he realized doing this would make Josephine happy, he immediately had someone bring scissors. I instinctively walked to the door, but as soon as I got there, I was blocked by his friends. “What are you trying to do?” I asked. “Opal, you upset the kid, so you should be punished,” Milo said as he walked towards me. “Hair will grow back, but making the kid happy is priceless.” As he spoke, he had people hold me down. I struggled frantically. Josephine excitedly walked over. Seeing her smug look, I became furious. In my struggle, my fingernail accidentally scratched Josephine. It didn’t even break her skin. But the next moment, Milo kicked me hard in the stomach, slamming me against the door. It hurt. My stomach cramped painfully, and I felt wet between my legs. I knelt on the ground. It felt like something was about to flow out of my abdomen. At that moment, I realized something and tightly grabbed Milo’s hand. I wanted to beg him to save my child. But Milo couldn’t see my pain. He was only concerned with holding Josephine’s hand and cutting my hair. The scissors stabbed into my scalp. I trembled in pain as blood flowed down my scalp and onto my face. Just then, someone exclaimed. “Blood! There’s blood!” Milo didn’t care at all. “Just accidentally nicked the scalp a bit. We’ll bandage it later and it’ll be fine.” “No, no, Milo, there’s a lot of blood. There’s a lot of blood on the ground…” The panicked voice brought Milo back to reality. He stood up and looked down at me condescendingly, until he saw the blood all over the floor. Only then did he panic. “Li-Opal…” I looked up at him. Tears and blood covered my face. “Congratulations, Milo.” “You killed your own child with your own hands.”

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My CEO husband was famously known as “Mr. Always Right.” Whatever his wife says is right; whatever she does is right. If something is wrong, it must be his fault. Everyone envied me for marrying the perfect man—until our anniversary party when I smashed a bottle over the head of his mistress-secretary. “Mr. Always Right” finally showed his true colors in public. “Apologize, or we’re getting divorced. Pick one!” I laughed calmly. “Well, here’s to the three of you living happily ever after!” Content As everyone looked at me in confusion, Ivy Snow, Declan Hawthorne’s secretary, collapsed to her knees before me. “Mrs. Chase, please don’t misunderstand! I would never try to seduce Mr. Hawthorne!” Her tear-streaked face wore an expression of grievance, but her eyes carried a bold and unmistakable challenge. Just like before—every time she deliberately ensured I “accidentally” saw her and Declan entangled in their sordid affairs. The onlookers quickly snapped out of their stupor, coming forward with forced smiles to mediate. “Mrs. Chase, everyone knows how deeply Mr. Hawthorne loves you! Why hold a grudge against his secretary over something so trivial? Isn’t that right, everyone?” Echoes of agreement surrounded me, accompanied by smug, condescending grins. To them, I was the trophy wife who had it all. A single word from me, and Declan would fly across the country just to deliver grapes he’d picked to satisfy my cravings. If I frowned, he’d buy out the entire city’s fireworks supply and light up the night sky, shouting his thunderous apologies. They envied me, but behind my back, they whispered I was nothing more than an ornamental vase—how did someone like me deserve a man as perfect as him? I don’t blame them for being naive. I blame Declan Hawthorne for playing the role of a devoted husband so convincingly for eight years. Little did they know, their “Mr. Always Right” had a single exception: Ivy Snow, his indispensable “right hand.” He’d said it himself—anyone could be sacrificed, but not her. Tonight, I confirmed that with my own eyes. I turned to the angry man, whose face was dark, and spoke softly. “Mr. Hawthorne, is that what you think too?” His lips pressed into a tight line, his eyes cold and distant, as if I were a stranger. He didn’t answer my question. Instead, he scooped Ivy into his arms and strode away. The guests, who had been laughing at my expense, froze in stunned disbelief as they watched him coo over the woman in his arms. “Ivy, don’t be afraid. As long as I’m here, no one will hurt you!” The tender reassurance echoed like a warning—directed at me. But after playing the “perfect wife” for eight long years, I was done with this charade. I stepped onto the stage, ripped off the banner covering, and revealed the bold words underneath the Divorce Celebration Party. Raising my glass to the crowd, I declared, “Thank you all for attending my divorce party. Cheers!” At that moment, I felt no sadness about being abandoned by my husband—only a profound sense of liberation. I had waited eight years for this day. Finally, finally, I was free. It felt so good. As I toasted to my newfound freedom, someone screamed, “Mr. Hawthorne! Mr. Hawthorne jumped into the ocean!”

By the next day, the news of Declan Hawthorne’s dramatic leap into the sea had spread like wildfire across Bayshore, California. The uninformed public marveled at his devotion and condemned the “trophy wife” as a heartless villain. Meanwhile, the guests who had witnessed him leave the Sunset Bay Cruise with Ivy now scrambled to send me consolation messages. “See? Deep down, Mr. Hawthorne still loves you. Otherwise, why would he jump into the ocean? He knows he was wrong—forgive him this once, okay?” If not for Ivy’s sentimental video, I might have been swayed by their words and believed Declan’s leap was a momentary lapse in judgment. In the video, the trembling and drenched Declan clung tightly to Ivy, tenderly stroking her hair. “It’s okay. Everything will be fine. I won’t let anyone call you a homewrecker.” There he was—a man terrified of water—willing to leap into the sea to protect his precious Ivy from public scorn. He loved her. I truly, deeply loved her. That’s his kind of fiery, icy love. After a night of drinking, I stumbled upon entering the room. The sharp pain stole my breath away. A cold voice shattered the silence. “Savannah Chase, I’ve given you the title of Mrs. Hawthorne. What more do you want?” Oh, right. I remembered the public proposal when he knelt before me, vowing I would always be the one and only Mrs. Hawthorne. At the time, I’d been blinded by love, ignoring how his affectionate gaze wasn’t directed at me but at a weeping Ivy nearby. Through his actions, he showed her that my title was empty. Ivy Snow was his true love. I had fought, yelled, and begged him to answer whether I had a place in his heart. Each time, he’d reply with the same icy detachment, devoid of warmth. “As long as you don’t touch her, you’ll always be the one I love most.” How cruel. His words wounded me deeply, but they also opened my eyes. He never loved me. Not even a little. Before I could answer, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me close, tending to the cut on my face with steady, practiced hands. When I tried to turn away, he held me in place with an iron grip. “Mrs. Hawthorne, your face belongs to the Hawthorne Corporation, too. You can’t afford to damage it.” Ah, yes. There was a gala tomorrow, and the hosts had explicitly requested my attendance. How could Mrs. Hawthorne show up with a flaw? I bit down hard, breaking his skin. My resentment and despair tasted of iron as I swallowed the blood that bound us together yet tore us apart. His fingers trembled slightly but didn’t withdraw. Only when my jaw ached and I let go did he grasp my chin and force me to look up. “Savannah, this is your final warning. Don’t push me too far.” Clutching his hand, he turned to leave. On the staircase, he stopped and looked back at me. “Tomorrow, make sure your makeup covers the cut. I don’t want any news of trouble in the Hawthorne marriage spreading again.” As his words cut through me, I could no longer hold back. “Mr. Hawthorne, did you forget what you said yesterday? Weren’t we getting a divorce?” Wasn’t he letting me go? He didn’t answer; he just kept walking. I stepped forward, waving a blood-stained photo in his direction, and smiled coldly. “Your beloved Ivy is in my hands. Aren’t you afraid I’ll do something to her?” In an instant, he lunged at me, gripping my throat with a terrifying intensity. “Savannah Chase, tell me—what did you do to Ivy?” I smirked at the frantic man before me, curving my lips without saying a word. His grip tightened, his rage boiling over as he growled. “If anything happens to Ivy, I’ll make sure you pay with your life.” Pay with my life? That sounded like a relief. At least in death, I’d escape this farce of a world. Closing my eyes, I waited for the end. But instead, my phone rang. He answered it with one hand, and Ivy’s mocking voice filled the room. “Savannah, how are you enjoying the gift I sent? Declan held me all night, again and again. Meanwhile, you spent the night alone, didn’t you? Want me to ask him to keep you company tonight?” The pressure on my neck disappeared instantly, and I collapsed to the floor. My reopened wounds bled freely, staining the cold tiles. In the icy silence, his warmth rushed over me like fire. “Savannah Chase, you don’t get to die without my permission!” How ironic. He didn’t know I’d rather die than endure this hell. But not this time, Declan Hawthorne. You’re not keeping me here anymore.

When I woke up in Seaside Medical Center, the first thing I saw was Declan Hawthorne slumped over by my bedside, his face pale with exhaustion and worry etched into his furrowed brow. Yesterday, in the haze of semi-consciousness, I vaguely remembered his frantic voice. “Savannah Chase, didn’t you say you loved me? Then you need to stay alive and keep loving me!” Once, I had believed that, too. I thought love was enough. But time, like a butcher’s blade, had sliced away my patience and affection, forcing me to see the truth. Wasting years on a man who didn’t love me back? Not worth it. A gust of wind brushed against my neck, and Declan woke with a start. Seeing my open eyes, he looked oddly relieved. “You—you’re awake?!” When I didn’t respond, he awkwardly reached for the water on the nightstand, trying to fill the silence. “I talked to Ivy about what happened yesterday. Don’t worry; she won’t bother you anymore.” Then, with an almost playful tone, “Savannah, you’ve got to stop using random photos from the internet to scare me. I thought—” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Never mind. Let’s just put it behind us. Can we stop fighting and return to how we used to be?” He held the cup to my lips, but as I raised my arm, my sleeve slipped back, exposing the scars on my wrist. His hand trembled, spilling water everywhere. “Who did this to you, Savannah? Tell me! Who hurt you?!” For once, there was genuine panic in his eyes. Was it pity? Compassion? Where was that concern when my depression had driven me to self-harm? When I’d cried myself to sleep, covering those scars with layers of foundation? Oh, right. He’d been laughing with Ivy, debating steak or seafood for dinner or deciding between a trip to Scandinavia or South America. Every business trip and every meeting had been their excuse for a romantic getaway. Meanwhile, the “Mrs. Hawthorne” they left behind was drowning in her despair, unseen and unheard of. I pulled my arm away from his grip and met his gaze, speaking slowly and clearly. “I did it to myself. But if you don’t let me go next time, I might aim here.” I dragged my finger across my neck. His dark eyes quivered, and he grabbed my hand, forcing it down. “S-Savannah, I’m sorry. Anything but divorce—whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.” “Then end things with Ivy Snow.” The sound of the glass shattering as he dropped it was deafening. I looked at him and let out a mocking laugh. “See? Even that—you can’t do it.” His expression darkened, his hands clamped down on my shoulders, fingers digging into my skin. “SAVANNAH CHASE, why? Why do you keep pushing me? You’ve been the CEO’s wife for years. What have you learned besides manipulation and blackmail?” “I learned how to let go,” I said, meeting his glare. “Let go of loving you. Declan Hawthorne, I don’t love you anymore. Let me go.” The grip on my shoulders loosened as his face crumbled, his gaze clouded with disbelief and despair. His lips parted as if to argue, but his assistant rushed in before he could, looking frantic. “Mr. Hawthorne, something’s happened to Ivy!” Declan broke from his stupor and darted toward the door, but I grabbed his wrist, stopping him. “Maybe this time, I can help.” His response was a sneer. “Savannah Chase, you’re good for one thing—being a pretty vase. What else could you possibly do?” He left, slamming the door behind him and taking the cold air. Unbothered, I reached for my phone and made a call. “Elias? I’ll be there soon.” Let’s see how his indispensable Ivy handles this mess.

Outside the VIP suite at Eclipse Lounge, the door hung ajar. Inside, chaos reigned—a bloodied Declan sat slumped on the floor amid broken glass and overturned furniture. It wasn’t hard to piece together what had happened: the knight rushing to save his damsel, a dramatic display of heroics for his secretary. But this time, he’d crossed paths with Elias Monroe, the one man in Bayshore who didn’t forgive or forget. “Declan Hawthorne,” Elias growled from his perch on the leather armchair, radiating authority. “Your secretary screwed up the paperwork, cost me millions in a deal. That’s nothing compared to the reputation blow Monroe Industries took because of her. This isn’t over.” Declan’s attempts to plead were brushed aside as Elias’s two hulking bodyguards loomed closer, their shadows stretching across the room. Before Declan could answer, Ivy scrambled onto the windowsill, sobbing hysterically. “I’ll jump! Don’t come closer!” Declan bolted forward, but Elias stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder. Elias scoffed, signaling the bodyguards to approach. “You were going to jump, right? I’m just helping you out. Go ahead. Next life, try being a better person.” “Elias, don’t touch her!” Declan yelled, desperation edging his voice. “Name your price. Anything you want!” Elias leaned back, smirking. “Fine. I want Hawthorne Corporation. All of it.” Declan fell silent, not because he didn’t want to, but because he couldn’t. Hawthorne Corporation wasn’t solely his to give away. With a snap of Elias’s fingers, the bodyguards moved to grab Ivy. She crumbled to the floor, clutching Declan’s legs, begging incoherently. Disgusted, Declan kicked her away. “Pathetic. A grown woman groveling like this? Disgusting.” I cleared my throat, stepping into the room. Elias’s face lit up when he saw me, and he sprang to his feet, pulling out a chair for me. “Savannah, you’ve finally agreed to my terms?” Ignoring him, I turned to Declan, my voice steady. “That depends on whether Mr. Hawthorne agrees to mine.” Declan’s bloodied face paled as he glanced at Ivy, then back at me. After a long, agonizing pause, he clenched his jaw and nodded. “Fine. I’ll agree to anything if you can get Elias off my back.” I pulled the divorce papers from my bag and handed them to him. His expression hardened as he stared at the document. “You planned this all along, didn’t you?” “Yes,” I said simply. He snatched the pen and scribbled his name without hesitation. Then, lifting Ivy into his arms, he walked out, pausing only to throw me a parting remark. “Savannah Chase, don’t let me regret this. You know the consequences.” Oh, I knew. But after surviving this hell, I wouldn’t make the same mistakes again. As the door clicked shut, I whispered to the empty room, “Declan Hawthorne, I’m not a vase. I never was.”

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Everyone else was scrambling to sell their accounts, but there I was, staying up all night, saying my goodbyes to the NPCs. People joked that I’d lost it—treating NPCs like actual people. Then the day came: the game’s dungeons merged with the real world, and those so-called NPCs became the ultimate bosses in reality. While everyone else was running for their lives, I was sitting in my yard, fishing and enjoying a hot pot. Bosses? What bosses? Those are my buddies. The news hit like a bombshell: Sword World, the game that had taken the world by storm, was shutting down in 24 hours. The moment the announcement dropped, players everywhere rushed to sell their accounts. My roommate Sarah was no different. “You should sell yours too,” she urged. “Might as well make some money back while you still can.” But I couldn’t do it. This wasn’t just a game account to me. It was a reminder of everything I’d been through, a source of comfort during my hardest years. To me, it was priceless. When Sarah suggested we sell our accounts together as a bundle, I politely turned her down and logged into the game by myself. If this was the end, I wanted to say goodbye properly. After all, this game had been with me for five long, difficult years. I followed my usual routine: I harvested the vegetables in my little virtual garden, tidied up, and got everything in order. Then, I set off to visit the NPCs one last time. I spent every last coin in my account. I bought the stable boy his favorite pastries. Picked out the perfect calligraphy set for the schoolteacher. And got the beggar by the city gates a new pair of straw sandals. One by one, I visited them all, bringing gifts and watching as they broke into their familiar smiles. “Thank you, hero!” they said, cheerful as always. I couldn’t help but smile back. “Goodbye,” I whispered to the screen. “I don’t think we’ll meet again, but I hope you’ll be okay. Take care of yourselves.” Behind me, Sarah let out a loud snort. “Are you serious?” she said, rolling her eyes. “They’re just a bunch of lines of code. The moment the servers shut down, they’ll get deleted in an instant.” “Take care of themselves? You’re acting like they’re real people!” I stayed quiet, but her mocking tone grated on me. “You’ve totally lost it,” she continued, laughing. “Calling NPCs your ‘friends’? You need help. Like, actual help. Maybe I should tell someone—get you checked out or something.” Then she reached for my phone. “Come on, stop being ridiculous! Just sell your account already! If we sell ours together, we’ll get way more money.” I shoved her hand away. “I said no, Sarah!” My voice was steady, but my patience was wearing thin. “And for the record,” I added, staring her down, “friends are the ones who bring you comfort and joy. These NPCs did that for me when no one else did. So yeah, they’re my friends. Deal with it.” As we argued, the clock quietly struck midnight. I glanced at my phone, and my heart sank. The game had logged me out. The servers were officially shut down. No more Sword World. No more NPCs. And worst of all, I hadn’t made it to Michael. Michael—the sensitive one, the one who’d probably take it the hardest if I disappeared without saying goodbye. I stared at the blank screen, guilt gnawing at me. But it didn’t matter now. Sword World was gone, and there was nothing I could do.

The day Sword World shut down, the wind outside was ferocious. I watched from the dorm window as a convenience store’s patio umbrella, base and all, was ripped off the ground and sent flying several meters down the street. The store clerk ran out, trying to grab it, but the wind shoved him back like a toy. Every news channel was looping coverage of the global storm. Experts took turns sharing their theories, but no one could explain it. Some people online were even saying it was the end of the world. Meanwhile, I stared at the dwindling food stash in our dorm room. The storm showed no signs of stopping, and I was running out of options. My supplies wouldn’t last past tonight. Sarah, my roommate, didn’t seem worried at all. She leaned back in her chair, scrolling through her phone. “Told you you should’ve sold your account when you had the chance.” She smirked. “I got a cool eighty grand for mine. Once the money’s in my account, I’ll be swimming in takeout—even if delivery fees shoot up to a hundred bucks.” She shot me a glance. “You? You’re on your own. Hope you enjoy starving.” I ignored her. There was no point arguing. She clearly didn’t realize that no one in their right mind would drop that kind of money on a game account after the servers shut down. It was almost definitely a scam. I got up, heading toward the bathroom to wash up when something strange happened. A cold, robotic voice echoed through the room. “Sword World dungeon successfully initialized. First mission: find Coco’s favorite item near the village entrance. Time limit: 24 hours. Failure will result in erasure.” I froze. “Coco?” I whispered. Sarah, on the other hand, rolled her eyes. “What the hell? A mission? Who’s pulling this dumb prank?” I wasn’t sure what to say. Coco was a name I knew—she was an NPC in Sword World. The granddaughter of the beginner village chief. A sweet little girl who loved playing hide-and-seek by the creek near the village gates. But this couldn’t be real. It had to be some weird coincidence. Before I could think further, there was a loud, frantic knock at the door. Sarah sighed dramatically and stomped over to open it. “Who is it?” Standing there was Jessica, another girl from our dorm. She looked awful—her clothes were torn, and she was covered in blood. She wobbled unsteadily, clutching the doorframe for support. “Help… me…” she gasped, her voice barely above a whisper. Then, before we could react, she collapsed, hitting the floor with a sickening thud. Behind her, standing in the hallway, was a little girl. She couldn’t have been older than six or seven, with twin pigtails and a lollipop in her hand. She swayed slightly as she stared at us, her big, round eyes sparkling with an eerie light. Then she smiled. “Big sister,” she said sweetly, tilting her head. “Did you find my favorite thing yet?” Sarah jumped back in shock. “What the—where did this creepy kid come from?! Hey, where are your parents?!” I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even speak. The girl’s face, her outfit, her voice—it was exactly like Coco. The Sword World NPC. Down to the last detail. My stomach twisted into knots. This couldn’t be real. There was no way someone could look exactly like an NPC from a video game. I took a step back, my mind racing. But as I moved, something cold brushed against my leg. The chill shot through me like ice water. I looked down. Jessica. She was lying there, motionless. Her skin was pale, her lips blue. I crouched down, reaching out with trembling hands, and froze when I touched her. She was ice-cold. Her entire body felt like it had been pulled out of a freezer. I scrambled backward, panic rising in my chest. “She’s—she’s gone!” Sarah turned to glare at me, annoyed. “What the hell are you talking about? gone? Are you losing it?” Before I could respond, the TV, my phone, Sarah’s laptop—every screen in the room suddenly flickered and changed to the same broadcast. A news anchor appeared on the screen, pale and visibly shaken. “This is an emergency announcement,” they began, their voice tense. “After thorough investigation, experts have confirmed that the recent global anomalies are linked to a martial arts game called Sword World.” I felt my blood run cold. The anchor continued, their tone growing more urgent. “We are now asking anyone familiar with this game to come forward and provide information. “If you encounter anyone resembling NPCs from the game, do not engage with them. Avoid contact at all costs. Do not speak to them, and leave the area immediately.” They paused, their eyes darting nervously off-camera. Then, in a lower voice, they added: “If you must interact with them, answer their questions carefully. Incorrect answers may result in….” The broadcast repeated the warning, hammering it into viewers’ heads: “Do not engage with NPCs. Do not make eye contact. Answer questions with extreme caution.” Then, the screen cut to a slideshow of game NPCs.

“No way… this has to be some kind of joke. There’s no way the game’s NPCs are actually real!” Sarah stared in disbelief, her eyes darting back and forth between the computer screen and the little girl standing in front of us. Meanwhile, Coco stood there smiling sweetly, looking for all the world like a perfectly normal kid. “Big sister,” she said, tilting her head innocently. “Did you find Coco’s favorite thing yet? It’s getting late, and Coco needs to go home. Hurry and tell me, okay?” My hands started to tremble—not from fear, but from excitement. I thought I’d never see them again—the friends who had been with me through the hardest five years of my life. When Sword World shut down, it felt like losing a piece of myself. All the people, the stories, the memories I’d poured my heart into—they were gone in an instant. All I could do was sit by helplessly as years of effort disappeared overnight. I remember the shock when I first heard the news. It was like my blood had turned to ice. I couldn’t stop replaying it in my head; I couldn’t stop panicking over what life might be like without them. But now… now they were back. Sure, the situation was strange—terrifying, even—but I couldn’t help feeling a spark of joy. Sarah’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “Who the hell knows what she likes?” she said, glaring at Coco. “She’s just some random NPC from the beginner’s village! She barely even has a role in the game.” Then Sarah’s expression shifted. Her eyes lit up with an idea, and before I could react, she grabbed my arm and shoved me forward. “She knows!” Sarah blurted out, pointing at me. “Ask her! She can tell you!” And then, without a second’s hesitation, Sarah slammed the dorm door shut behind me. Through the small glass window in the door, I could see her smirking at me. “I’m not perishing for this,” she said with a cruel grin. “If anyone’s meeting their end because of this eerie little creature, it’s you.” She gave me a mocking wave. “Besides, isn’t this your thing? You’re always obsessing over NPCs and their stories. Time to put all that ‘research’ to good use. Go on, Betty—this is your big moment!” Her voice was dripping with malice, the same condescending tone she’d used so many times before. It was just like the way she’d told everyone I was “crazy” for treating NPCs like real people, the way she’d turned the entire class against me. Fine, Sarah. If this is how you want to play, I’ll play too. I turned to Coco, forcing myself to stay calm. “Coco,” I said gently, “I know what your favorite thing is. But after I tell you, can you promise me something?” She blinked, tilting her head curiously. “What is it, big sister?” “You have to ask that big sister, too,” I said, nodding toward Sarah through the window. “She really wants to answer your question as well.” Coco’s eyes lit up. “Oh! Does that big sister want to play with me, too? Okay! But you have to go first! Once you tell me, I’ll ask her next!” Behind the door, Sarah’s smirk vanished. Her expression twisted into panic as she realized what I was doing. She started banging on the door with her fists. “Betty, you bitch! You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? Just answer her question and get it over with!” She was practically screaming now. “You’re gonna get me in serious trouble! Darn it, Betty!” I ignored her. Leaning down, I whispered into Coco’s ear, my voice low enough that only she could hear. “Coco loves the butcher’s big cleaver, doesn’t she?” For a moment, Coco’s eyes gleamed with something sharp and unnatural. Then, she let out a soft giggle. “Wow, big sister, you really know a lot!” she said, clapping her hands together. Behind the door, Sarah’s banging grew even louder. “What did you tell her?!” she shouted, her voice cracking. “Betty, what the hell did you say?! You can’t just leave me hanging like this!” She sounded frantic now, her words tumbling over each other. “We’re roommates! You can’t just let me go! Help me!” But before I could respond, Coco’s cheerful voice cut through the chaos. “Hmm… but you got it wrong!” What? I froze. Sarah stopped yelling. For a moment, everything was silent.

She let out a cold laugh, her voice dripping with disdain. “Wow, and here I thought you were actually good at something. Typical Betty—useless and weird.” “You couldn’t level up properly; you were trash at dungeons, and now you can’t even figure out a low-level NPC. Pathetic.” Her smirk deepened as she delivered the final blow. “People like you—antisocial losers living in your little fantasy worlds—aren’t good for anything. Why don’t you just do everyone a favor and disappear already?” A sudden chill shot up from the ground, snapping me out of my thoughts. Startled, I looked down to see an icy column snaking its way up my legs, frost spreading fast. Within seconds, my legs were frozen solid below the knees, sharp crystals glinting in the light. This skill… I knew it. There was no mistake. It had to be her—the mischievous Coco from the beginner village in Sword World. “Coco!” I shouted, panic slipping into my voice. “Are you acting up again?” Her head tilted slightly, her big, round eyes blinking at me in confusion. “Didn’t I just tell you last night to behave and listen to your grandpa? What, you forgot already? If you keep this up, I’m not bringing you any more pork floss buns!” Her expression froze. She stared at me, wide-eyed, as if trying to process what I’d just said. “Who… are you?” she asked, her voice soft and hesitant. I crossed my arms, lifting my chin. “What? You don’t recognize me anymore? Oh, Coco, you’re in big trouble now! I’m never helping you steal the butcher’s cleaver again!” Her eyes widened and then sparkled with sudden recognition. In an instant, she canceled the skill and ran toward me, throwing herself into my arms. “It’s you! Mr. Handsome! Coco finally found you!” She hugged me tightly, burying her face in my chest, her voice trembling with excitement. “You don’t know how much Coco missed you! Coco waited and waited, but you never came back to visit.” I patted her head gently, trying to suppress a smile. But then she pulled back slightly, her innocent eyes scanning me from head to toe. Her brow furrowed in confusion. “But… Mr. Handsome, why are you a girl now? Did you… did you turn into a girl? Did you get a sex change?” … I froze, completely thrown off by her question. Her wide, curious eyes stared at me, waiting for an answer. I opened my mouth and then closed it again, unsure of what to say. God, why did I ever think it was a good idea to create a male character? Letting out an awkward laugh, I quickly changed the subject. “Uh, let’s not focus on that right now. What I do want to know is why you lied earlier. I didn’t get your question wrong, did I?” Coco’s smile faltered. Her eyes darkened slightly, and she lowered her head, her voice muffled as she spoke. “I didn’t lie,” she said softly. “You were right. That used to be my favorite thing. But it’s not anymore.” Before I could process what she meant, she suddenly looked up at me, her eyes blazing with anger. “Ms. Handsome!” she shouted, pointing angrily toward the door where Sarah had locked herself in. “It was her, wasn’t it? She hurt you! She was mean to you, wasn’t she?” Her small hands clenched into fists. “Don’t worry, Coco will protect you! Coco will get rid of her for you!” “Wait, Coco—” But before I could stop her, dozens of thin, glimmering ice threads shot out from her hands, slicing through the air like needles. Sarah barely had time to react. She let out a choked scream, scrambling to run, but it was too late. The ice threads pierced through her body in an instant, blood splattering the walls as she collapsed to the floor. She didn’t even have time to cry out. Her lifeless eyes stared blankly at the ceiling. Her body crumpled in a pool of red. Coco turned back to me, her face lighting up with pride. “See, sister? Aren’t you happy now?” I stared at Sarah’s body, my chest tightening painfully. My breath caught in my throat. “Coco,” I said carefully, forcing myself to stay calm. “You can’t just go around harming people like that. You’re still a kid—you don’t understand. This world isn’t like the one you came from.” I crouched down to her level, trying to meet her gaze. “When people gone here, they don’t come back. They’re gone forever. Do you understand?” Coco pouted, clearly unconcerned. But when she saw the seriousness in my expression, she hesitated and then reluctantly nodded. “Okay… I’ll listen to you, big sister.” Before I could say anything else, the school’s PA system cracked to life. “This is an urgent broadcast. Attention, all students. Sword World NPC Michael is currently searching for a specific individual: a man in a black bathrobe, with multicolored hair, a passion for gardening, and a large red flower on his head.” “Anyone with information is requested to report to the nearest TV tower immediately. This is a priority alert. A significant reward will be given for any leads.” I froze, staring at the speaker in disbelief. Seriously, Michael? Did you really have to describe my character in excruciating detail? I sighed heavily, grabbing Coco’s hand. “Come on, Coco. Michael’s looking for me. Let’s go find him.” But before I could take a step, Coco tugged on my hand, refusing to move. “Do we have to go?” she asked, her voice small and hesitant. “Can’t we just stay here? Just you and me?” I crouched down, frowning slightly. “Why, Coco? Don’t you want to see Michael? Don’t you miss him?” She squirmed, her eyes darting to the side. “Ms. Handsome… you don’t understand. Michael’s different now.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “He’s scary. Really scary. Coco doesn’t want to see him. Please, can we not go?” I couldn’t help but laugh softly. Typical kid behavior. Michael? Scary? The guy was the definition of calm and polite—probably the least threatening person I’d ever met. I ruffled her hair, smiling reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Coco. I’ll protect you. Let’s go.” Reluctantly, she nodded and followed me out of the dorm, though her steps were heavy with hesitation. We’d barely made it down the hall when we ran straight into John and his group.

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On the day of my divorce, while my mother-in-law basked in the spotlight of congratulatory messages for the ultrasound of Wesley Wick’s mistress, I took a different approach. With a cold smile, I shared Wesley’s premarital checkup report—a document that exposed the truth behind the facade. The report clearly stated: “Wesley Wick, Male, Diagnosed with Congenital Azoospermia.” “I don’t want a man who can’t have children!” Wesley and I met in college and got together after graduation. After graduation, my salary wasn’t high, barely enough to make ends meet, so we had to rent a shabby, unfinished apartment. Wesley and I worked at the same company. After work, he would drive me home, and during holidays, he would give me little gifts. If nothing else, he would at least take me out for hamburgers. I grew up in the shadows of neglect, my parents absent and my childhood devoid of wealth or stability. The only beacon in my turbulent life was my grandmother As a child, others would say I was a wild child that Grandma picked up. I never believed them. After Grandma passed away, I had no home, so I envied those who did. Because I lacked love growing up, I became increasingly dependent on Wesley. When we were dating, he was gentle and considerate, always taking care of my feelings, never looking down on my family or background. I was young and mistook his cheap kindness for love. When he proposed, he promised to give me a happy and fulfilling family. I was overjoyed and married him.Once we were engaged, Wesley’s relatives made their opinions known, snickering behind my back. They called me a wild chicken trying to be a phoenix, hinting at my questionable origins and even suggesting I might be carrying some mysterious illness. They insisted on a premarital medical checkup. I took a deep breath and pushed aside my pride, swallowing the sting of their words for Wesley’s sake. When the results came out, it turned out that Wesley had congenital azoospermia, meaning we wouldn’t be able to have children, and there was no cure for it. I cherished our relationship and loved him deeply, so I chose to keep it a secret to protect his feelings. I wanted to live a good life with him, and I thought that as long as we loved each other, it didn’t matter if we couldn’t have children; we could always adopt one if we wanted. That was my thinking, but others didn’t see it that way. After we got married, my mother-in-law made my life difficult in every possible way. She started by insisting that I quit my job to have a child and be a stay-at-home wife. At first, I refused, but Wesley persuaded me, promising that he would earn money to support us while I stayed at home, beautiful and carefree. I believed his sweet words, quit my job, and became a full-time housewife. But what awaited me after marriage was endless grievances and heartache. Every morning, I woke up to cook, and after cooking, I would wash clothes, mop the floor, and wash the dishes after eating. After cleaning up, just as I was about to rest, my mother-in-law would throw a pile of underwear at me. This wasn’t the first time she had asked me to wash her undergarments. With a weary sigh, I looked at her and said, “Mom, undergarments and other personal clothing are meant to be washed by the wearer. It’s not my place to handle such private matters.” She was busy texting someone to come over and play mahjong and looked up at me with a glare: “If I tell you to wash it, then wash it. Where do you get so much nonsense?” I refused. I threw the basin into the bathroom and went back to my room to change the bed sheets. My mother-in-law started cursing loudly in the living room, “So now you think you’re tough? Did we marry you to treat you like a queen? Look in the mirror; do you really think you’re goddess? Get out here and wash those clothes, or I’ll call my son to teach you a lesson!” I couldn’t take it anymore. “I married into your family, but I wasn’t sold to you. I didn’t take a penny of dowry when I married. If you want a maid, hire one!” I slammed the door and cried on the bed. My mother-in-law called Wesley, playing the victim. When he came home, he dragged me out of bed, “Diana, apologize to Mom!” Every time we argued, he always sided with his mother! “Why should I apologize? What did I do wrong? She bullies me, and you want me to apologize?” I wiped away my tears and turned away from him. My mother-in-law also came into the room, her words biting, “I told you not to marry her, and look, it hasn’t been long, and she’s already trying to dominate me.” Wesley pushed her out of the room, “Alright, Mom, enough. I’ll talk to her.” He handed me a tissue to wipe my tears, “Diana, Mom is old, and she has a heart condition. You’re so magnanimous, you should be more accommodating, right? Just go and make peace with her.” He knew I was soft-hearted and wouldn’t hold a grudge against his mother, so he coaxed me into apologizing. But little did he know, the more I let it slide, the more she bullied me!

One night, my period came, and I stained the bed and my pajamas. I got up, took off my pajamas, and left them in the bathroom, thinking I’d wash them the next day since it was so late. The next morning, I was woken up by my mother-in-law yelling. She didn’t even knock before barging in and throwing the bed sheets at me. “Get up and wash this! Isn’t it disgusting?” I was in pain, “Mom, my stomach hurts. Let me rest for a bit, and I’ll wash it later.” She went berserk and dragged me out of bed: “How dare you say your stomach hurts? It’s been so long, and you still haven’t gotten pregnant!” The blanket was yanked off, and I was left with nothing to wear. I covered my chest and picked up the blanket, feeling like my dignity had been trampled on. My tone grew cold: “I’m going to get dressed and wash the sheets. Please leave.” Luckily, her phone rang, saving us from a full-blown argument. My mother-in-law had arranged another mahjong game with her relatives. As I hung clothes on the balcony, I overheard her relatives gossiping inside. “Your daughter-in-law still hasn’t gotten pregnant?” “Who knows? No sign of it yet.” “Could she be infertile?” “Exactly! My daughter got pregnant right after getting married, and now the baby’s already over a year old.” “Maybe you should try some folk remedies?” My mother-in-law glanced at me with a sneer: “I bet she’s just a chicken that can’t lay eggs.” What kind of mother-in-law would joke about her daughter-in-law like this? I couldn’t stand listening any longer. I called Wesley several times, but he didn’t pick up. When he got home, his mother immediately pulled him aside to whisper. When he came back to our room, I wanted to talk to him, but he was busy texting on his phone. I tried to grab his phone, and he snapped at me, “Stop making trouble! I’m busy with work!” I was taken aback, “What work do you have to do at home?” “If I don’t work, what will you eat and drink? All the money in this house comes from my hard work. All you do is spend money. You can’t even take care of my mom!” I couldn’t believe what he was saying: “What money have I spent? Apart from groceries and living expenses, what have I used? Your mom bullies me every day, and you say I haven’t taken care of her?” “I’m tired. I don’t want to argue!” He turned away to sleep. I cried silently. I couldn’t sleep the whole night.

After that, I stopped complaining to Wesley about his mother. There was no point; he would never take my side. I endured for over six months just to keep a semblance of a home. But Wesley’s frequent late returns from work made me suspicious. He would always come home and immediately grab his phone, sometimes with a doting smile, which he would quickly hide if I noticed. One day, I followed Wesley in a taxi. He went to a high-end residential area where I couldn’t get in, so I waited downstairs. After a while, Wesley came out with a woman whose belly was slightly swollen. They got into a car, and I hurriedly followed them to a hospital. When they got out, I saw the woman’s face clearly. It was his cousin, Sally Rune. I didn’t understand why she needed her cousin to accompany her for a prenatal checkup. Just as I was about to follow them into the hospital, my phone rang. It was the police station. “Hello, is this Diana Helm?” “Yes, this is she. How can I help you?” “Well, earlier, a blood test you had matched with a missing girl’s parents at a 99% rate. Could you come in when you have time to discuss this?” I was shocked and forgot all about Wesley and Sally. I rushed to the police station. Before Grandma passed away, she told me that we were not related by blood and that she had found me on her way back from the city after buying medicine. She was all alone, so she brought me back. Grandma also gave me a pendant that was around my neck when she found me, saying it was the proof to reunite with my biological parents. If these people were indeed my real parents, they would recognize this pendant. At the police station, I handed over the pendant and explained the situation. Soon, a luxury car pulled up, and a plump, well-dressed woman got out. When she saw the pendant, she cried and hugged me tightly, “Isabelle, I’m your mother! My dear Isabelle!” It turned out my real name was Isabelle Gade. My eyes welled up, and I hugged her tightly. Then a middle-aged man got out of the car, and I was stunned. It was Frank Gade, the CEO of the company where Wesley worked. I couldn’t believe I was the long-lost daughter of the Gade family! My mother explained that I had wandered off as a child and never returned. They had searched for me for years but never found me. Grandma and I had always lived in the countryside, where information was scarce, so it was difficult to locate me. After Grandma passed, I came to the city to finish college while working part-time. My biological parents wanted to take me home, but I told them I was married and needed to share the good news with my husband and bring him along. My mother agreed, gave me their contact information, and sent me back to the neighborhood. I walked home, excited to give Wesley a surprise. But as soon as I reached the door, I heard a conversation that tore my heart apart. “Sign this agreement immediately,” my mother-in-law’s voice came from inside. “Mom, how do I explain this to her? I’m afraid she’ll cling to me.” My mother-in-law cursed, “What are you afraid of? You’re the only male heir of the Wick family, and we’re counting on you to carry on the family line. Besides, you’ve already gotten Sally pregnant. Are you not going to give her a proper status?” That’s when I realized there was another woman crying inside. No wonder Wesley had been sneaking around lately; he was hiding an affair! And the mistress was his cousin! I clearly remembered that Wesley was infertile, so there was no way he could have gotten her pregnant. I quickly went back to the hospital, pulled up the medical records, and confirmed with the doctor that his condition was congenital and incurable. My mother-in-law called me, telling me to come home immediately because there was something to discuss. I put the medical report in my bag, feeling a mix of emotions. This was getting more and more interesting!

I entered the house, and only my mother-in-law was sitting on the sofa. I looked around, but Wesley and that mistress were nowhere to be seen. My mother-in-law threw a document at me and kept yelling, “Hurry up and sign it! The Wick family has had only one male heir for three generations. We can’t keep a hen that can’t lay eggs.” I picked up the agreement and took a glance. How heartless! I had sacrificed my career and best years to marry a man who couldn’t have children. I resigned from my job to become a full-time housewife, enduring endless humiliation just to keep the family harmonious and happy. And now, after my husband cheated on me, my mother-in-law despised me for not being able to have children and wanted to kick me out with nothing. I wiped away the tears from the corners of my eyes and started laughing. My mother-in-law was startled, “What… what are you laughing at?” I looked at Wesley’s signature on the divorce agreement, noticing how hastily he had signed it. I stared coldly at her, “What am I laughing at? I’m laughing at the fact that I didn’t go downstairs to buy some firecrackers to celebrate leaving your family. When he proposed, he swore he would love me forever, protect me, and give me a happy life. And now he’s treating me so cruelly!” My mother-in-law was furious, pointing her finger at me, “Say that again!” I swatted her hand away, “You’re not my mother, and I won’t tolerate you any longer. Do you want me to sign this or not?” She didn’t say another word and put her hand down, probably afraid that I wouldn’t sign it. I signed the divorce agreement, then looked up at her and said, “Tell Wesley to come back so we can go finalize the divorce right now.” She hadn’t expected me to agree so quickly. For the first time, she spoke to me with a somewhat decent attitude. “Alright, alright! A wise person knows when to give in. I’ll call him right now.” How ironic. A while later, Wesley called me to come downstairs. I took the agreement and went down. As soon as I opened the car door, I saw Sally sitting in the front passenger seat. “Wesley, what’s the meaning of this? You’re bringing her along to disgust me during our divorce?” I asked coldly. “Sally is pregnant and needs someone to take care of her. She gets nauseous in the back seat, so you should sit in the back,” he replied, not daring to look me in the eye. It was laughable. If he hadn’t mentioned the pregnancy, it might have been better. He still didn’t know about his congenital azoospermia. He thought he was cheating on me, but in reality, she was cheating on him. This was karma! It’s true that justice eventually catches up with everyone. Sally began to speak, “Please don’t be upset. Wesley and I are truly in love. I’m sorry.” Unbelievable. I hadn’t even started crying, and Sally was already playing the victim! “I can’t accept your apology. Your face isn’t thick enough to carry the weight of your actions.” Wesley squeezed her hand, “Sally, don’t apologize. The fault lies with me, not you. You’re innocent, don’t stress yourself.” Were they seriously putting on a tragic love drama in front of me? I sarcastically commented, “How many months along are you? Are you sure the baby is Wesley’s?” Sally visibly hesitated for a moment, “Of… of course it’s Wesley’s. Just because you can’t have children doesn’t mean you should question the child I’m carrying.” Wesley frowned and looked at me through the rearview mirror, “Diana, you’ve had trouble conceiving, and Mom is anxious to have a grandchild. If you’re angry, take it out on me, not on Sally.” So, after cheating on me, he’s now blaming me for everything? How shameless! “So, you’re saying it’s my fault that I couldn’t get pregnant? Did I force you to do something dirty with your cousin behind my back?” Sally jumped in, “Please don’t argue with Wesley. It’s all my fault. I’ve always liked him, and I’m the one who seduced him.” I wasn’t falling for her act. “So, you’re admitting you’re cheap enough to seduce someone else’s husband?” “Sally, ignore this shrew!” Wesley snapped, growing more impatient. The two of them were acting as if I was the one who had ruined their relationship. The car finally stopped in front of the civil affairs bureau. After we finalized the divorce, Wesley handed me a hundred dollars, as if he was giving me charity. “Take this for a taxi. I won’t be driving you anywhere. Let’s part on good terms.” I slapped his hand away, “Who’s parting on good terms with you? Your mother bullied me all the time, and I endured it for the sake of our relationship. She called me a hen that can’t lay eggs, and you never defended me. Now you’ve brought your mistress home, and you’re taking her with us to finalize the divorce. Do you have any shame?” His face grew darker and angrier, “If you weren’t infertile, why haven’t you gotten pregnant? Aren’t you just feeling guilty and afraid of what people will say? With your poor background, who would want you? You look so pathetic every day that just seeing you makes me sick.” Sally laughed and pulled Wesley back into the car, “Alright, Wesley, don’t bother with her anymore.” I held back my anger, called my mom to let her know I was safe, and then took a taxi home to get a good night’s sleep. The next day, I told my parents everything that had happened. My father was so furious that he slammed his hand on the table, “Linda, get the car ready! How dare he treat my daughter this way!” I stopped my father, “Dad, let me handle this myself.” Just as I finished speaking, my phone rang. It was an unfamiliar number. I stepped outside to take the call, and a sharp, sarcastic voice came through the line. “Diana, is that you? This is Sally Rune. I just moved in with Wesley. I don’t want to be the bad guy, so why don’t you come over and collect your things? It must be tough leaving with nothing. You could probably sell them for some cash and rent a rundown apartment in a poor neighborhood.” I was so angry I laughed. “No need. Those things were bought by Wesley, so they naturally belong to him.” “Well, since that’s the case, I’ll get straight to the point. Wesley and I are getting married soon. I hope you won’t contact him anymore. I’m sure Miss Helm wouldn’t want to be seen as someone who ruins other people’s families, right?” She hung up after saying that. Not only did she have the audacity to say such things, but she also had the nerve to block me afterward. At that moment, a few messages popped up in our family’s group chat. Wesley’s mother had posted, “Next month, my son Wesley and Sally will have their wedding. My daughter-in-law is pregnant! I’m going to be a grandmother!” Look at how happy she is. Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t leave the family group yet. I’ve got a “big gift” for her.

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The day I bled during my food live stream was a big deal—it was my first time hitting a hundred thousand viewers. My brother rushed into the frame and slapped me across the face. My boyfriend, sitting next to me, scoffed, “She’s just faking it for the views.” Because of that, I was slammed with online bullying, and some folks even started using voodoo dolls on me. But they had no clue that I’d been diagnosed with stomach cancer two months prior. Eventually, I decided to live stream my final moments, so everyone could witness my journey. The viewers skyrocketed to three million, and my brother and boyfriend sped to the hospital, driving like they were in a race. I probably ate way too much, and suddenly, I couldn’t help but cough up blood. Just like that, my viewership jumped to over a hundred thousand. The chat was loaded with people concerned about me. It felt nice to know some folks still cared, and it lifted my spirits. Higher traffic meant I could make the leaderboard and score a bonus to plan myself a decent funeral. Just as I was about to speak, the sharp slap stung me again. For a moment, I thought I had really gone to heaven. Stars danced in front of my eyes. “They’re just acting for the views,” my brother, Jake, said, completely unfazed. I turned to look at him; his face showed nothing but indifference, while my brother, Ethan, glared furiously at me. “Don’t believe her, folks; you should check out Sophie instead. She’s the real deal.” How ridiculous! I was bleeding, yet they were still trying to promote Sophie. “I’m not faking it!” I forced out the words through the pain in my stomach. But suddenly, the chat turned against me. The same viewers who had once been sympathetic were now throwing insults my way. “Damn, I really thought she was sick.” “She’s disgusting. Go watch Sophie instead.” Soon, half the viewers had left. Then the live stream got shut down after someone reported me for faking it. No bonus for me today. The dream for a nice funeral also shattered. “Get that blood cleaned up; it’s gross!” Jake looked at me with disgust. Ethan wasn’t about to show me any sympathy, either. To them, I was just a faker. “Effie, Sophie’s mom is sick and needs that bonus way more than you do. You can’t take this from her and expect us to be nice.” Ethan’s voice was ice cold. Who would’ve expected this was my boyfriend of five years? He was once the guy who said he loved me and wanted to marry me. Now, he was taking Sophie’s side. After they left, I coughed up another mouthful of blood. The bright white tiles were stained red, and I suddenly thought back to the doctor’s words from two months ago. “Do you have any family?” “They’re all gone.” I sucked on a lollipop, pretending it didn’t bother me, while the doctor looked shocked. He wasn’t the first one to react like that; everyone thought I was joking. But in my heart, losing my family felt as real as death itself. My best friend had stolen my boyfriend. Soon after, she was with my brother. Then she told them I’d tried to have her killed to snag the live stream bonus. Everyone believed her and pitied her. Even my mom thought she was a better daughter than me because she was sweet and caring. While I felt incompetent, believing I had been the reason my dad had died. Everyone hated me, so I decided to think of them as dead. I wouldn’t bother them with my illness. “You’ve got stomach cancer. You’ve got at most six months left,” said the doctor, trying to sound serious. “But there’s hope with aggressive treatment.” I bit down on the lollipop. Just then, a text from my mom popped up. “No bother to come home for the anniversary of your dad’s passing. I don’t want to see you.” I burst out laughing; I had always been the bad girl in their eyes. If I died, so be it. Later on, Sophie somehow got wind of my illness. On my birthday, she showed up, grinning wickedly. “You have cancer, right? You planning to tell everyone? Just you wait! I’ll make everyone hate you!” At dinner that night, she told everyone I’d faked my cancer diagnosis. She even showed them the fabricated medical document. Mom, Jake, and Ethan all swallowed it whole. 2. Mom slapped me hard right then and there. Jake tossed aside the cake he bought for me. Ethan said, “You’re disgusting.” From then on, they all thought of me as a lying b*tch. I tried to explain it was all a misunderstanding, but they wouldn’t believe me. “Let’s go out to eat.” Ethan stormed back in. When he spotted the blood on the floor, his brow furrowed tightly. “Effie, can you stop pretending? It’s only making us hate you more.” I looked up at his handsome face, one I’d known forever. We had been close since we were kids—partners in crime. He once said, “I’ll stay with you forever.” Yet now, he’d chosen Sophie over me. In my room, they had been all over each other, and it made me sick. His excuse for cheating was “a drunken mistake.” “Ethan, let’s break up.” I wiped the blood from my lips and said it calmly. His eyes widened, rushing at me and grabbing my shoulders. “Is this about me interrupting your stream?” He snorted. “Effie, can’t you be a little grateful? You’ve got a brother and me. You’re from a well-off family.” “But Sophie has nothing, and her mom is sick!” I forced a bitter smile. Happy? Jake hated me, Ethan cheated on me, and even if I told my mom I was sick, she wouldn’t give me a dime. Was that happiness? “I’m breaking up with you.” I kept speaking as the pain danced in my stomach again. The doctor said just last week that I couldn’t keep binging; otherwise, I’d end up dead in no time. But I needed the cash. Before I pass, I just wanted to make a little more money for a decent funeral. I wanted to leave this world in style since I hadn’t lived right in it. This would be my final gift to myself. “Fine, you said it. Let’s break up then.” Ethan let go and walked out. Moments later, Sophie messaged me. “lol your loved ones all hate you. How’s it feel?” I didn’t respond, just took a screenshot. My gallery was loaded with our past messages. I hoped there’d be a day when the truth would shine through. … I cleaned myself up and headed to my cozy little hub. Whenever I felt down, I would retreat here. Inside, I had a ten-year-old sister I’d adopted; her name was Effie as well. She had my name, and I thought we were alike. She had been abandoned by her family. I adopted her because I saw myself in her. “Effie, you’re here! Check this! I got a perfect score on my report card!” As soon as she saw me, she jumped into my arms. I ruffled her hair. “Ef, you’re amazing! How about a special meal?” She had no idea about my cancer. I didn’t want to burden her with my problems because such conversations only brought sadness. “Yeah! Let’s hit KFC!” “Sounds good!” Every time I celebrated her achievements, we would go to KFC. Never to McDonald, though, for some reasons. When w arrived, I placed the order. Just then, Jake and Sophie walked in. Sophie saw me, gasping in shock. “Oh my gosh, Effie, is that your a bastard child?” If only I could sew her mouth shut because she drove me insane. Jake strolled over, firing off questions. “Whose child is this?” “Hey, I’m Effie as well. You can call me Ef. Effie adopted me.” They fell silent at Ef’s words. But Jake quickly scoffed, “You keep acting sick, yet you’re here at KFC? Effie, you’re a fucking liar.” With that, he and Sophie turned and left. Halfway through my meal, pain gripped my stomach, and I vomited blood. “What’s wrong, sister?” Ef rushed over, worriedly hugging me. I felt dizzy from the pain. “I… I’m fine.” Just then, Jake rushed in and checked on me. Funny. Hadn’t he thought I was faking all along? Next thing I knew, I woke up in a hospital room. My brother was glaring at me, furious. “Are you done with the act? You know I was going to KFC with Sophie, so you decided to fake the blood, right?” “Don’t hit my sister!” Ef shoved him back. “Effie, come here,” I said softly. She held my hand tightly, looking up at Jake, the brother I felt I barely knew anymore. My cheeks burned from the pain as my heart sank. No one had clued him in about my illness? Even after I was sent to the hospital? And for god’s sake, he himself is a f*cking doc! If he’d just care to take a look, he’d realize how serious my condition was. “Get lost.” I said quietly. He seethed in anger. “Effie, you’ve grown some guts!” He raised his hand to hit me again. “Brother.” I said it soft enough to break through to him. He seemed stunned. It had been ages since I’d called him “brother”. “Let’s sever ties. I won’t bother you any longer.” I never imagined it would come to this day. He was once so gentle and kind toward me. Everyone knew how Jake was tough with the world yet soft with me. He had always treated me like a princess. He would stay by my side through fevers, buying me anything I wished. One birthday, I mentioned wanting to visit the Grand Canyon, and he drove me overnight. He had once told me, “Effie, I’ll protect you forever.” And yet, everything changed when Sophie came along. “Say that again!” Jake’s fists were clenched. “I said, I want to cut ties.” “I’m no longer your sister, just like you’re no longer my brother.” I didn’t need a family like this anyway. “Fine. You said it.” He stormed out, slamming the door. Then a young intern in a white coat strolled in. I glanced at his name tag. It read “Shawn.” He came over and adjusted my IV. “This should help.” “Thanks.” Looking at Ef by my side, I saw her red-rimmed eyes filled with concern. “Effie, are you sick?” Tears began to flow again without warning. “I’m good. You should head home for now; I’ll be back soon.” She was always obedient, nodding before leaving with her backpack. Once she was gone, Shawn sighed deeply. “Your health is deteriorating; you need hospitalization and chemotherapy, or you won’t make it.” “Then I’ll go for the chemo.” I had initially planned to earn enough money to handle my situation. But now my funds were gone. That night, Ethan came back to see me. He brought me my favorite fruits. “I heard from the doctor that you’re fine; let’s get out of here. Stop fighting with Jake.” I’d told Shawn not to share my condition without my okay, so he hadn’t spilled the beans to Ethan either. I always wanted to let them know, but now I didn’t want to share that burden. “First off, I’ve broken up with you.” “Secondly, my problems with Jake aren’t your concern.” His face darkened. “Effie, everyone’s been so good to you! Why insist on being difficult?” Good to me? Did they genuinely care? It felt ridiculous. “Get out, will you?” “I’m sick of looking at you.” Every time I saw him, I imagined him with Sophie, tangled up together. It made my stomach turn. Suddenly, Jake burst back in. “Effie, are you still not done?” He rushed toward me and slap me hard again. This time, it sent a ringing in my ears. He had never been like this before; he hadn’t raised his voice at me ever. I guess everything changed over time, and he started to treat me differently. “I’m giving you a chance to back down, and you still want to throw a fit?” “You don’t want me as your sister? Well, I don’t want you as my brother either!” Ethan shook his head in disappointment, then walked out. It was as if everyone who once treated me kindly was now drifting away. But I didn’t care; I didn’t want them around anyway. The next day, Jake strolled in wearing his lab coat, holding McDonald’s. Seeing that iconic logo made my face pale. “Get lost; I’m not eating.” He said, “It’s your dad’s death anniversary; weren’t you always asking for McDonald’s on this day? I’m letting you feast.” When he hurried over to shove the greasy chicken into my mouth, it lodged painfully in my throat. Everything flashed back to that day years ago. Suddenly, I vomited blood, pressing the emergency button in a panic. In came Shawn, ready to fight. “Have you lost your mind? She has stomach cancer!”

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At eight months pregnant, I went into early labor. I died on the operating table. I was rushed into the maternity ward with another pregnant woman. “The water has broken for this patient; we need to proceed with surgery immediately. Contact the family to confirm signatures.” “My husband is away on a business trip. I can sign for myself!” I spoke through the pain, just as a man rushed over to the other woman’s side. “Save her first! She has a weaker constitution!” I recognized him immediately. Nathan Chase, my husband. The same husband who was supposed to be on a business trip out of town. How could he tell them to save someone else first? Nathan glanced at me with a cold calmness. “She’s an athlete, she’ll be fine. I’m her husband. I can sign the liability waiver.” He spoke firmly to the medical staff. “I’m Dr. Nathan Chase from Downtown General Hospital’s OB-GYN department. Trust my professional judgment.” Later, I bled out on the operating table. Nathan knelt at my grave, sobbing, “Emily, I was wrong. Please, come back.”

Nathan Chase was a renowned OB-GYN at Downtown General Hospital. But he was always busy. Busy traveling across the country for work, too busy to come back when his wife was knocked into premature labor. The sudden labor only worsened the hospital’s already tight resources. After the violent impact of my fall, by the time I was taken to the hospital, blood and amniotic fluid had already soaked through my entire body. The doctor told me to contact my family, so with the last bit of consciousness I had, I called him. Once. Twice. No answer. I tried my mother-in-law. Still no response. “My husband is out of town for work. I can sign for myself,” I groaned, barely able to bear the pain, as I informed the doctor of my intentions. Coincidentally, another pregnant woman was brought into the emergency room after a car accident. “Doctor, save her first! She’s bleeding from the head; she might have a risk of intracranial bleeding!” I looked up, and there he was. Nathan Chase, my husband, the man who was supposed to be away. I have RH-negative blood, the rare “panda blood,” as they call it. And here I was, lying on the ground, covered in blood, and my husband, the one man I thought I could rely on, chose to ignore me. Nathan held onto Tina Lewis’ hand tightly, his concern for her all too obvious. “Don’t worry,” he said softly. “I’ll personally handle your surgery. You and the baby will be fine.” “I guarantee you’ll walk out of surgery perfectly healthy.” The tenderness in his voice, the way he looked at Tina, cut through me like a knife. Without a hospital bed, I lay there in the hallway, watching him shower affection on his former classmate, his “little sister” from medical school. Patients passed by with their families. Everyone had someone to lean on in this terrifying moment. Everyone but me. As my own husband walked right by me toward another woman. All I got was a cold remark: “You’re just having a premature birth. You’ll be fine.” Did he not know I had RH-negative blood? As I waited for my surgery to be scheduled, I felt my eyes grow heavy. The next time I woke up, I was surrounded by doctors and nurses. “The patient has suffered an amniotic fluid embolism, and she’s hemorrhaging! Contact the blood bank immediately!” “Where’s Dr. Chase? He’s the only one in the city experienced enough to handle this!” The nurses wheeled my bed frantically down the hallway, assuring me everything would be alright. They told me my husband, Dr. Chase, was the top OB-GYN in the city. He had successfully handled amniotic fluid embolisms three times before. They even contacted the media to put out a call for blood donations. They didn’t want me to worry. I was pushed into the operating room, the cold mechanical sounds of various machines filling the air as they reported on my vitals. “Not good! Her oxygen levels are dropping too fast. She’s fading! Where is Dr. Chase?” I could feel the anxiety of the attending physician as she clutched my hand, her fingers icy. The nurse was just as worried but helpless. “Dr. Chase finished surgery on another patient and then… left. Apparently, that woman wanted some bone broth, and he said he’d make it himself.” “Call him!” “He’s not answering…” “The baby’s not breathing either, and the patient is critical. We’re losing her!”

The conversation between the doctors made my heart sink, little by little. At the moment when my baby and I needed him most, my husband wasn’t there. He was busy making soup for another woman. The attending physician gripped my hand firmly. “You trusted me, so I won’t give up on you. You have to hold on!” Alright… I blinked slowly. Someone in this world was still fighting for me, still hoping I’d make it through. So I had to keep trying. The intern was still desperately trying to reach Nathan Chase. My attending physician and the hospital’s top specialists were working side by side, leaving no room for error. The media broadcasted the emergency, and soon, many generous donors with RH-negative blood came to the hospital to give. Bag after bag of blood plasma was pumped into my body, and the doctors wiped the sweat from their brows. “The baby’s out!” At last, the sound of a baby’s cry filled the room. But I felt my strength draining away, and my vision blurred. The attending physician shouted at me, “Don’t sleep!” “Bring the baby over so the mother can see!” I forced my eyes open and smiled at the small, slightly blue baby. She was so beautiful, soft and sweet, just like Nathan must have looked when he was born. The intern suddenly raised his phone in excitement. “Dr. Chase just called! We got through!” The crisis wasn’t over yet, but my attending physician looked like she’d grabbed a lifeline. “Did you hear that? Your husband’s on the phone. Hang in there!” They put the call on speaker, and Nathan’s frantic, angry voice filled the operating room. “Emily, where’s your hospital bag? You’re not giving birth yet anyway, right? Let Tina use it.” “Oh, and the maternity nurse you hired, can Tina use her first? She had an early delivery and doesn’t have time to find a reliable one.” Boom. The last bit of hope I had collapsed. I felt the final sliver of strength leave my body. The attending physician frowned and had the intern hold the phone to her. “Dr. Chase, your wife has had a severe amniotic fluid embolism. She’s in critical condition. Your expertise is needed urgently to save her.” The line went dead. “He hung up! Is he out of his mind? His own wife is dying, and he’s worried about someone else’s maternity nurse?” “What kind of ‘renowned doctor’ is this? He’s nothing but a heartless jerk!” Their voices were loud. Even I couldn’t help but laugh. And in that fleeting moment, all hope drowned beneath the waves of despair, swallowing my last breath of consciousness. “Critical!” “The patient’s oxygen levels are plummeting. Contact the blood bank for more plasma, immediately!” In an instant, my once-stable vitals began to nosedive. Maternal instinct told me not to give up, but I simply couldn’t hold on any longer. Beep— “August 20th, 2024, at 2:21 p.m., patient Emily Perkins, declared dead.”

I… died? I couldn’t believe it. I wanted to reach down and cradle my baby, but my hands passed right through her tiny body. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t hold her. I couldn’t feel her warmth. All I could do was watch as my hands kept slipping through her over and over again. The death of a mother during childbirth is a big deal for any hospital. As they wheeled my body out of the operating room, my attending physician ran into another doctor from the neighboring surgery room. Seeing the white sheet covering my body, Dr. Lee sighed in sympathy. “That’s strange, wasn’t Dr. Chase’s wife just next door, undergoing a routine C-section? We could’ve handled that easily. Why didn’t he come to assist you?” “He’s the authority in these kinds of cases! Could it be that, because his wife was giving birth, he didn’t want to step in and help save lives?” Before Dr. Lee could finish, the intern interrupted, frustrated. “Dr. Lee, the woman under this sheet is Dr. Chase’s wife, Emily Perkins.” Dr. Lee chuckled. “I’ve worked with Nathan for so long. You think I don’t know who his wife is? His wife is Tina Lewis. How could this be Emily?” Still grappling with the loss of the patient, the intern lost her patience, her tone exasperated. “Why would we lie to you? This is Dr. Chase’s wife. It’s on her medical records.” Dr. Lee froze, then slapped his forehead in disbelief. “You’re joking, right? Dr. Chase’s wife… dead?” The only response was the cold, silent body beneath the white sheet. … After I died, Nathan Chase couldn’t be reached by phone. But his mother, Gloria, showed up at the hospital. “The mother didn’t make it… I’m so sorry for your loss,” the nurse informed her quietly. “But she gave birth to a healthy baby girl. Five pounds, three ounces…” Before the nurse could finish, Gloria frowned and walked off to call Nathan. “Your wife gave birth. It’s a useless girl,” she snapped into the phone. “That’s fine. I told you she’d be alright.” “Oh, by the way, Mom, I gave her hospital bag to Tina. I also sent the maternity nurse Emily hired to help Tina. You know, Tina’s all alone and needs someone by her side.” “Fine, fine. I got it,” Gloria huffed. “Mom, can you stay at the hospital and look after her for me?” There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Nathan pressed on, “Mom, I’ll pay you. A thousand dollars a week.” Hearing that, Gloria finally relented. “Your wife doesn’t need anyone looking after her. She’s fine. An athlete’s body can’t be that fragile.” “She heard that you sent her nurse away. Now she’s saying she wants to go abroad to recover after childbirth, something about it being quicker and better. Someone’s already arranged to pick her up.” I couldn’t understand why Gloria would say that. Nathan didn’t give it much thought either. “Whatever. Let her go wherever she wants.” Listening to his dismissive tone, I began to wonder: if he knew I’d died on the operating table, how would he react? Would he feel even a twinge of sadness? From the other end of the line, I heard Tina’s soft voice: “Nathan, do you think Emily’s mad at me?” “I had you come stay with me, and Betty’s here helping look after my son. You know, I’m all alone right now…” “I didn’t mean to bother you. I don’t want to cause any trouble for Emily…” “Who cares about her? Your priority is to recover. Don’t worry about anything else. And anyway, she’s an athlete. She’ll be fine.”

No sooner had those words left his mouth than a blinding light flashed before my eyes. I looked up and saw several of Nathan’s colleagues walking into Tina’s room, holding various gifts. Even someone meeting Nathan for the first time could easily read his emotions. Tina Lewis, his former classmate, was the unattainable goddess of his youth. He never had the courage to confess his feelings for her, but he made sure the world knew he adored her. Had it not been for that school reunion I attended with him, I never would have known just how low Nathan Chase could stoop for her. In front of Tina, he was always humble, almost worshipful. At that reunion, his college roommates teased the recently divorced Tina, saying, “Tina, you’ve had a rough patch, but if you’d accepted Nathan Chase’s proposal back in the day, you’d be the one standing next to the top OB-GYN in Downtown General Hospital right now. There wouldn’t be room for anyone else.” And I, the “someone else,” could only stand quietly, becoming invisible in the crowd. His old friends all seemed to hate me, as though I had come between Nathan and Tina. If it weren’t for me, their beloved “goddess” would’ve been his wife by now. Nathan didn’t seem to mind them thinking that either. After that reunion, Nathan started giving me the silent treatment. He claimed he was too busy with work and only came home once a week. Eventually, he even skipped all my prenatal appointments. Meanwhile, his face appeared frequently in Tina’s social media posts. She called him her “perfect mentor,” and they appeared as close as ever. Whenever people misunderstood their relationship, Tina always smiled and shrugged, neither denying nor rejecting it. It was like she welcomed the confusion. In that way, she and Nathan were eerily similar. People mistook Tina for his wife, and Nathan seemed to like it that way. Naturally, this led to fights between us. Nathan defended himself, saying, “The truth will reveal itself. I don’t need to prove anything. Stop trying to control who I’m friends with.” He was always so insecure when it came to Tina. Just a hint of attention from her, and he was wagging his tail like a puppy. But with me, he acted as if he was my best option, the only one I had. Before the baby, I had been so dependent on him, and now, with the baby, it was even harder to leave. He knew that, and it only made him more reckless, more arrogant. So, he wasn’t afraid of losing me. Not even if I died. At four in the afternoon, after what must have been a busy day for him, he finally thought to call me. But I would never answer again. Once. Twice. Three times… As the phone automatically disconnected for the third time, Nathan’s face twisted into an irritated scowl. “Why are you just standing there? Tina’s asking for you!” “What happened to Tina?” He responded as if by reflex, rushing off toward the private ward at full speed the moment he heard her name. Inside the room, Tina was chatting happily with Nathan’s hospital colleagues. One of the young nurses spoke up, “Mrs. Chase, you’re so lucky. You don’t know how worried Dr. Chase was when you were in labor. Even when they called him about another woman with amniotic fluid embolism, he refused to leave your side and insisted on finishing your stitches.” Tina didn’t correct her. She just smiled, accepting the “Mrs. Chase” title without protest. “He was just nervous…” Just then, my attending physician and Dr. Lee, who had assisted Nathan, burst into the room: “Nathan Chase, you’ve gone too far! Not only did you never clarify that Tina isn’t your wife, you’ve let your colleagues misunderstand for so long! They’ve been calling her ‘Mrs. Chase’ all this time!” Dr. Lee’s voice was filled with genuine anger. Nathan stayed silent for a long time, then finally said, “I told you to just call her Tina. You’re the ones who insisted on calling her that.” “Well, well, well. You don’t know, do you? Your wife, Emily Perkins, had amniotic fluid embolism. She didn’t make it. She’s dead!” “And here you are, still doting on Tina, not even bothering to see your wife one last time.” “You’re not even scared she’ll come back to haunt you!” Dr. Lee’s voice grew louder as he tried to push Nathan toward my room. Nathan slammed the door shut, resolute. “I don’t believe it. You’re all in on this, trying to trick me.” “She was the one who chased after me for years. I finally gave her my last name, so there’s no way she’d just leave like that.” He laughed bitterly. “She’s not like Tina. Tina’s always had health issues, but Emily? She’s an athlete. Amniotic fluid embolism is nothing to someone like her.” Dr. Lee couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief. “You’re a gynecologist, and you don’t know how dangerous amniotic fluid embolism is?” “Last year, we lost a patient in perfect physical shape to the same thing!” “Your wife was RH-negative. You know how risky that is, don’t you?”

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