Category: English

Grandma Lily, at the ripe age of 70, had fallen head over heels into an online romance. She was sending mushy messages on SnapChat and even spent $1,000 on her young “boyfriend” to boost his online business performance. No one could talk her out of it. Aunt Sarah pointed her finger at Grandma and scolded, “At your age, have you no shame? You’re embarrassing us all!” But I stood firmly by Grandma’s side. After all, I was the one behind her online romance. Grandpa had left behind an inheritance of $100,000. On his deathbed, he explicitly stated that after Grandma passed away, all the money should go to his grandsons. Aunt Sarah puffed up like a peacock, proud as can be, since she had two sons. Aunt Jessica chimed in, not to be outdone, “I have a son too.” As the granddaughter, I naturally wouldn’t see a penny of it. Mom was furious. For years, our family had been the ones taking care of Grandpa and Grandma. Even when Grandpa fell ill, it was my parents who footed the medical bills. Grandpa believed that since I was a girl, I’d eventually marry and leave the family, so there was no need to leave me any inheritance. Uncle Robert and Uncle Michael’s families only visited Grandpa and Grandma once a year during New Year’s, yet Grandpa welcomed them with open arms. He’d say that Aunt Sarah and Aunt Jessica were the family’s greatest contributors for giving birth to sons. Every time he said this, Mom’s head would droop so low it almost touched the ground. She felt guilty for not giving Dad a son. That’s why she bent over backward to care for Grandpa and Grandma. During family gatherings, Mom was always the one running around, taking care of everything. But no matter what, I was still Grandpa’s granddaughter. His decision truly angered Mom. Dad, being the soft-spoken person he was, didn’t say much. Grandma had lived her entire life under Grandpa’s thumb, treating his words as gospel. I was raised by Grandma. She always doted on me, taking me to school, buying me clothes and treats. But under Grandpa’s influence, she still agreed to follow his wishes. When my parents ran out of money paying for Grandpa’s medical bills, Mom asked Grandma to borrow money for my college tuition. Grandma, who usually spoiled me, hesitated and refused: “Your grandpa said the inheritance is for his grandsons.” “Girls will eventually marry into other families anyway.” “Your grandpa is the head of the family. I have to listen to him.” Even though Grandma usually treated me well, there was no room for negotiation on this matter. Aunt Sarah approached Grandma, sucking up to her: “Mom, look at Ryan. He’s about to get married and really needs the money. We have two sons, so we should get more of the inheritance, right?” Aunt Jessica wasn’t about to back down either. “Dad said it’s for the boys, but he didn’t say your two sons should get more.” “When it comes to giving out New Year’s money, Dad always gives my son Jason $100, while your two sons only get $100 combined.” Grandma got angry and slammed her bowl on the table with a loud “bang”: “Your father said to divide it after I’m dead. I’m not dead yet, and you’re already planning to split the inheritance?” They apologized, saying “How could we think that?” But in their hearts, they knew exactly what they were doing. How much money could an old lady from a small town spend? Whatever was left would be theirs, right? Back in our room, Mom looked dejected: “I told your dad we should set aside money for your college, but he wouldn’t listen. He insisted your grandpa would remember how good we’ve been to them.” At this point, Mom was getting angry. She scoffed: “Don’t come to me if any of you Johnsons need anything in the future.” “Bella is my precious daughter. From now on, all the money I earn is for Bella.” Dad knew he was in the wrong and didn’t dare say a word.

After Grandpa passed away, I noticed Grandma had changed. Especially these past few days, she’d been acting mysteriously. She used to go for a walk after dinner without fail. But lately, she’d rush back to her room right after eating and stay cooped up for hours. It was as if she had some treasure to guard in her room. She seemed unusually excited, her eyes sparkling like a young girl in love. I quietly snuck to her window and peeked inside. Grandma was grinning at her phone. It was a phone I bought her last year and taught her how to use SnapChat on. Could it be that she was hooked on TikTok? As I was thinking this, Grandma called out to me, asking for help with her phone: “Bella, can you take a look at Grandma’s phone? It’s not working.” “It’s frozen.” I took the phone and examined it. There were too many junk apps, and those malicious ads wouldn’t close. I tinkered with it for a while and discovered it was full of bloatware. “Grandma, I’ll fix it and bring it back to you in a bit.” Grandma seemed a bit uneasy and urged me to fix it quickly. I readily agreed. The phone didn’t have any major issues. After deleting the junk apps and downloading some antivirus software, it would be fine. The phone’s storage was limited, so I cleared out a lot for her. She was following many marketing accounts on Instagram, and I was about to unfollow them when I suddenly saw some explicit messages Grandma had sent, making me blush. “You’re my little sweetheart. Chatting with you every day is the happiest thing in my life.” “I love you too. You’re the most heart-fluttering treasure in my life.” “I want to meet you in person!” … There were also long voice messages after that. In my mind, Grandma had always been frugal and proper, always following Grandpa’s words. I couldn’t imagine such mushy words coming out of Grandma’s mouth. This kind of account was clearly designed to scam elderly people. They’d send messages like “Sister, I miss you so much” every day. But Grandma thought she had found her soulmate and was chatting enthusiastically. A thought suddenly popped into my head. I could pretend to be Grandma’s online romance. Grandma would get the emotional connection she craved, and I’d get money. It was a win-win situation. “Mom, I’ve got my tuition covered,” I said to myself.

I created a new SnapChat account with the nickname “Ray.” The friend request was accepted immediately. Grandma didn’t understand: “Ray, why are you messaging me from a different account?” I replied: “I created this new account just for you. You’re the only contact on it.” Grandma responded with a shy emoji, like an 18-year-old girl. Over the next few days, we chatted passionately. Grandma was slow with typing, and Uncle Robert accidentally saw her messages. These past few days, the competition between Uncle Robert and Uncle Michael had reached a fever pitch. Uncle Michael’s family had been secretly trying to curry favor, and Uncle Robert was afraid Grandma would give all the inheritance to the second son’s family. So he’d been visiting more frequently lately. He sat by Grandma’s bed, cracking sunflower seeds and making a mess on the floor. At one point, he accidentally glimpsed Grandma’s SnapChat. The chat window was still open on the message: “I love you too, you’re my sweetheart.” He jumped up, his face flushing with anger. He snatched the phone and scrolled through the chat history, feeling like his world view had been shattered: “Mom, how could you do something to betray Dad?” “At your age, aren’t you ashamed?” Hearing Uncle Robert’s roar, the others finally learned that Grandma had started an online romance. Dad stood in the corner, quietly defending Grandma: “It’s good for Mom to have someone to talk to and keep her company.” Recently, Mom had a change of heart. She went on strike, refusing to cook or take care of the family. Instead, she spent her days gardening, buying clothes, and pampering herself. She wasn’t as attentive to Grandma as before. Grandma had no one to talk to every day and could only talk to herself. I completely understood Mom. Although Grandma raised me, there was no reason for Mom to fulfill the obligation of caring for her on behalf of Dad and me. Uncle Robert wouldn’t let it go. He insisted on knowing who the old man on the other end was. Grandma was both embarrassed and angry, pointing at Uncle Robert but unable to speak for a while. It wasn’t clear if she felt ashamed that her son knew about her private matters or if she was angry that Uncle Robert didn’t understand her. “What law am I breaking? Your father is gone, and I can’t even find someone to talk to?” Aunt Sarah and Aunt Jessica chuckled softly, as if they were watching Grandma make a fool of herself. Grandma suggested that the children take turns staying at home to keep her company, and she would stop the online romance. But no one agreed. Uncle Robert said he was busy with work, and Uncle Michael said he had to take care of his kids. Aunt Sarah tried to smooth things over, saying that since Grandma was only having an online romance and hadn’t done anything illegal, they should just let the old lady be. Seeing someone offering a way out, Uncle Robert stopped talking, his face still sour. Everyone tacitly agreed to this arrangement.

I watched coldly as they put on their act. I wasn’t going to stop at just an online romance. I needed to make money too. With my college tuition on my mind, I felt the time was right to start asking Grandma for money in Ray’s name. I asked for money without any guilt. My parents had taken care of Grandpa and Grandma in their old age, paid for their medical bills, but Grandpa wouldn’t spare a penny. I hated this behavior, but unfortunately, Grandpa was already dead. I could only try to get back my parents’ hard-earned money from Grandma. I sent Grandma a message on SnapChat: “Darling, Ray can’t chat with you every day anymore. I’m out of money and need to go find work.” Grandma immediately became anxious: “At your age, where can you go to work?” Then she transferred $200. “Take this money and buy some groceries.” I quickly accepted the money. “Thank you, darling. Now I don’t have to work for a month and can spend time with you.” Seeing the sudden $200 in my SnapChat account, I rolled on the bed laughing. Who knew a few caring words could be worth so much to Grandma? I called out to Grandma, who was fanning herself outside: “Grandma, do you want some bubble tea?” It was a hot summer day, and I rode my bike home with two iced bubble teas. Grandma clumsily inserted the straw and took a sip. Her eyes immediately lit up: “This stuff is really good!” She took several more big sips as she spoke. “Bella, this bubble tea is so delicious. Is it expensive?” I rolled my eyes and said: “Very expensive! Over $10 a cup!” Grandma’s eyes widened. She looked at the fancy cup in her hand, seemingly unable to believe it could be so expensive. But after a while, she nodded and pulled out $50 from her pocket: “Expensive things do taste better. Bella, Grandma will give you money. Next time, bring Grandma another cup.” I happily went back to my room. Within two minutes, Ray’s SnapChat received another $20: “Ray, bubble tea is delicious. Go get yourself a cup too.” Over the next few days, I made money hand over fist just by chatting with Grandma. It didn’t take long before I had saved up enough for my tuition. “Darling, at this age, you should be good to yourself. Let the younger generation worry about themselves.” “Why should my treasure sacrifice for a big family?” “At this age, it’s time to enjoy what your children can give back.” I didn’t expect Grandma to accept new ideas so quickly. As soon as I said it, she understood and even thanked me for making her see things clearly.

Uncle Robert and Uncle Michael’s families had been visiting more frequently lately. In the past, they only came back twice a year, claiming they were busy with work and had to take care of their children. Now, Uncle Robert came home once a week, bringing Grandma milk, fruits, and supplements. Uncle Michael sent Aunt Jessica over to care for Grandma, accompanying her shopping and exercising. They were competing to see who could be more filial. In the past, Grandma used to eat and live at our house for free. After Mom stopped taking care of her, the task of cooking for Grandma fell to them. They were shrewd. When they went out to buy vegetables, they would ask Grandma for money. Uncle Robert bought a box of apples online, and when he was about to pay using Grandma’s SnapChat, he exploded: “Mom, you had $2,000 in your account for pocket money last month. How come there’s less than $1,000 now?” Uncle Robert kept a close eye on Grandma’s bank card and the money in her phone. Not a single change escaped his notice. Grandma’s online romance wasn’t a big problem, but an online romance that cost money was a major issue. Uncle Robert fumed, roaring in the house: “You won’t give money to your son, but you’ll go support a toyboy?” “They’re all scammers! Scammers!” Uncle Robert felt he was in the right, so he called everyone in the family for a meeting. Grandma used to revolve her life around her husband and children, but since Grandpa passed away, her behavior had shocked everyone. Uncle Robert’s face was ashen. This time, he was several levels angrier than before: “At your age, not only are you having a romance but also supporting a toyboy. If you’re not embarrassed, we are! And how can you face Dad?” Everyone sighed and shook their heads: “Mom, you used to be such a good person. How did you become like this?” Uncle Michael sat on a small stool, trying to reason with her: “Mom, we all work hard to earn money. It’s one thing if you spend it on yourself, but you can’t just give it away to strangers.”

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I had just given birth to my daughter a month ago when my husband, Garrett, wanted to have sex with me. I refused, but then I discovered his chat history as a client of prostitutes. The photo showed a young, fair-skinned girl with a seductive gaze. My supposedly frugal husband was even trying to haggle the price by playing the pity card to save money. I couldn’t help but laugh coldly. A man who’s been tainted should stay as far away as possible. My husband, Garrett, was supposed to be a frugal, good man. But he was so stingy that he even tried to haggle with prostitutes by shedding crocodile tears. When I accidentally saw the disgusting chat history on his unlocked phone, I was instantly shaking with anger. It showed that on April 7th, he had found a local beauty on TikTok. He even compared prices and chose the cheapest one. When discussing the price, he tried to haggle by playing the pity card: “I have an 80-year-old mother and a newborn child to support… Can you give me a discount this time? How about $50 less?” After getting a compromise, the woman asked him to book a hotel room. He hesitated for a long time and asked if he could come to his home when his wife was out. The woman exploded with profanity: “You fucking cheapskate! You can’t even afford a room and still want to find a woman? Dream on! You poor bastard, your wife really hit the jackpot marrying you!” After that, she blocked my husband. I didn’t find any transfer records either. Apparently, it was his empty wallet that forced him to extinguish his lustful fire in its infancy. I remembered that April 7th was my birthday. That evening, Garrett had specially prepared a big dinner and even shamelessly said he wanted to have sex with me, which I refused because my body hadn’t recovered yet. I never expected he would turn around and try to hire a prostitute! No wonder they say that married men’s phones are almost always a sure bet – there’s no such thing as an absolutely clean man. But when I confronted him, Garrett showed no remorse at all. He even let out a disdainful “huh.” “You can still yell. I see you’re not weak at all,” he said. “I’m a man with normal physiological needs. What’s wrong with wanting to relax occasionally? I didn’t actually hire a prostitute. I’ve been holding back long enough during your pregnancy. I took care of you when you were in the hospital, bringing you food and helping you use the bathroom… Am I not good enough?” His words, accompanied by flying spittle, hit my face. He sounded so self-righteous. I silently closed my eyes. This was the consequence of my impulsive decision to marry and have a child, blinded by love. Smelling his breath, I suddenly felt nauseous and rushed to the bathroom to vomit. At that moment, I felt a dull pain in my lower abdomen. Sitting on the toilet, I noticed some bleeding. I felt weak and dizzy, with no strength left. “Honey, my stomach hurts, and I’m bleeding a little. Can you take me to the hospital first?” I asked. But Garrett thought I was faking it and scoffed. “Why are you making such a fuss? Stop pretending. Do you want me to call an ambulance and send you to the ICU?” His sarcasm was almost the last straw that broke the camel’s back. I blacked out and finally fainted next to the toilet. When I opened my eyes again, it was broad daylight, and I was lying in a hospital bed. The doctor happened to be doing rounds. “Patient Zoe in bed 07, you had postpartum hemorrhage last night. There were retained products of conception that weren’t fully expelled. Combined with emotional distress, mood swings can lead to postpartum hemorrhage.” Seeing my husband dozing off by the bed, his eyelids heavy with sleep, I quickly asked him where our child was. “I’ve already asked my mom to take care of her. Don’t worry, focus on getting better,” he said. Perhaps my pale and weak appearance stirred a bit of conscience in him. He held my hand guiltily and said, “Zoe, I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. I had a few drinks yesterday and dared to lose my temper with you. I forgot you haven’t fully recovered after giving birth.” I narrowed my eyes and pulled my hand away from his. He should know what explanation I was waiting for. Garrett sighed. “I did… look for women online, but I’m frugal and didn’t actually go through with it! As you saw, I was just curious for a moment. I really know I was wrong.”

Before this, I had never checked my husband’s phone. It stemmed from my belief in the beauty of marriage, thinking that trust should come first between spouses. But this accidental discovery of his online search for women made me doubt everything. Garrett said he didn’t dare to actually go through with it, fearing sexually transmitted diseases. He just thought about it. “How could I dare to hire a prostitute? I was just frustrated during your postpartum period. You wouldn’t agree to have sex, so I had some wayward thoughts. But I definitely wouldn’t dare to actually do it. I was just talking to satisfy my urges,” he said. That night, he wrote me a promise letter and repeatedly apologized until I finally let the matter drop. However, I still felt uneasy deep down. After being discharged and recovering, I went to vent to my best friend. My best friend had just ended a failed marriage, the reason being her husband’s infidelity. I told her, “Garrett’s emotional cheating, I guess. After all, he didn’t actually hire a prostitute or find a mistress. Our child is still so young, maybe I can tolerate it for now.” But my friend said I had “pregnancy brain.” “Do you know what my ex-husband said when we divorced? Out of ten men over thirty, nine have hired prostitutes. And to avoid being caught through transfer records, they all use cash.” I took her words to heart. When I got home that evening, my mother-in-law, who had been looking after my daughter, had already packed up and returned to her hometown as soon as she heard I was coming back. Only my daughter’s piercing cries remained in the house. I picked up my daughter with a heavy heart and complained to my husband about his mother leaving without saying goodbye. Garrett was very displeased: “My mom is getting on in years. It’s already good enough that she can look after the child for you!” I retorted directly: “If she didn’t want to take care of the child from the beginning, she didn’t have to come. I could have asked my mom to come over! You were the one who actively asked your mother to come. And what do you mean ‘look after the child for me’? Aren’t you the child’s father?” Garrett was stumped and turned away, muttering under his breath. “Huh, only you would know if I’m really the father…” I took a deep breath, feeling like there was a mountain pressing on my chest. I didn’t want to say another word. My month-old daughter was still crying incessantly, her voice hoarse. No matter how I tried to comfort her, it was to no avail. “Damn it, so annoying,” Garrett cursed. Unable to bear her crying, he swore and stormed out to stay at a hotel. At six in the morning, after a sleepless night, I finally welcomed my child’s maternal grandmother. My mom, who often heard old people in the village talk about superstitions, said that this time the baby might have seen something unclean and was frightened out of her wits, which is called infant convulsions. So, my child’s grandmother and I tried calling back her soul and patting her, struggling for two whole days before she got better. We were exhausted to the point of seeing stars. During these two days, Garrett didn’t come home at night. He came back drunk early this morning and fell asleep on the couch. I was already so tired that my vision was blurry. As I bent down to tidy up, I unconsciously moved the weight scale. As a result, it automatically displayed the last measurement data: “Your last measured weight was 99 lbs, on April 12th at 19:31.” I had maintained a weight of 114 lbs for over a year, and I was in the hospital yesterday. It couldn’t have been me. So who measured it? This weight seemed to be that of a woman, and many people instinctively step on a scale when they see one. I frowned, suddenly noticing a strange smell. I carefully crouched down. Sure enough, I smelled a faint scent of sex on the back of the couch. He actually brought a woman home and cheated on the couch in front of our daughter! I was burning with anger, finally understanding why my daughter had been frightened into convulsions. I could only imagine how intense their activity must have been. At this moment, Garrett let out a satisfied snore, smacked his lips, and turned over. The phone he had been lying on fell to the floor.

I quickly checked his phone again. It wasn’t password-protected and showed nothing unusual. However, when I took out the wallet from his jacket pocket, a SIM card ejector pin fell out. Who would carry this around? Could it be that he frequently changes SIM cards? Sure enough, in a hidden compartment, I found another SIM card belonging to Garrett. After inserting it into the phone, all the cloud-backed information records appeared. I was already numb with anger but couldn’t help but mock him — What a frugal good man indeed, too stingy to even buy a spare phone, having to constantly swap SIM cards just to cheat. The message records were overflowing with obscene content. The other party said she was a college student working part-time, a good girl with excellent academic performance, clean and hygienic. Garrett asked: “Baby, send me a photo. Let me see if you’re really a college student.” She sent a photo of herself in black fishnet stockings, partially covering her face like embracing a pipa. She was dressed as a sexy wild cat, with full silicone breasts and an alluring peach-shaped bottom. This is exactly what men like. “Hot enough for you, baby?” she asked. But you could tell from the background that it was a dorm room, and her clothes were cheap. No wonder she accepted the meager offerings from my stingy husband, calling a sleazy man over a decade older than her “baby.” My husband was grinning from ear to ear. “I like you, baby.” After one “transaction,” Garrett sent her a message: “I didn’t bring enough money this time. I’ll definitely make it up next time!” “Okay, baby,” she agreed readily. He could even get credit? Looking closely, I realized that my husband had been lying about being a big boss who often forgets to bring cash, all to get credit. The young girl’s price wasn’t low, and he even spent a few dozen dollars to send her a fake designer bag. So the girl believed him. Indeed, naive young girls are the easiest to fool. They’re no match for older men. When she asked Garrett, “Baby, is your wife very ugly?” Garrett seriously replied, “Don’t talk nonsense. My wife just gave birth and is very busy taking care of the family. She controls the family finances, otherwise I wouldn’t need to ask you for credit.” Laughable. My husband is truly touching. How can he completely separate his cheating body from his supposedly caring heart for his wife? I took a deep breath, looking at the man sleeping soundly on the couch, trying hard to calm my nerves after just recovering from illness. Many married women at this point might choose to turn a blind eye, considering their husband’s contribution to the family. But I won’t. A man who has touched roadside flowers is too dirty. I don’t want him. He can get as far away as possible. But before kicking him out, I must make him pay for hurting me and our daughter! … That night, I didn’t startle the snake in the grass. In my current exhausted state, being hysterical would only backfire. The first thing I did was go to the hospital for HIV and other STD screenings. Only after confirming I was fine did I breathe a sigh of relief. My best friend had used some high-tech methods when catching her ex-husband cheating. She gave me a voice recorder, “Cheating and hiring prostitutes are essentially the same. They both betray your marriage. Only by obtaining evidence to prove he’s at fault can you gain more rights legally.” Although TV dramas are full of scenes of catching cheaters red-handed, it’s not so easy in reality. Stingy men’s thoughts are not as simple as their wallets, but rather more profound. He even knows to check for hidden cameras when traveling, so setting up cameras at home to spy would definitely not work. I gripped the voice recorder in my hand, outwardly calm, dutifully taking care of our daughter. I also became gentler in my attitude towards my husband. Even when he threw his smelly socks at my feet, I still greeted him with a smile. He became a bit uneasy, “Honey, why has your temper changed so much? I’m even a little flattered.” I smiled and said it might be due to postpartum hormonal changes, and that my irritable phase had passed. Garrett finally breathed a sigh of relief. To make a person expose their flaws, you must catch them when they’re most relaxed. One evening in late April, I endured nausea and watched an adult movie with him, even letting him take Viagra. In the end, I refused to have sex with him again, citing physical discomfort. His desire had risen but he was met with a closed door. He immediately became furious. “Zoe, what’s wrong with you! Are you looking for a wild man outside to satisfy you?” My silence provoked him even more. This time I didn’t tolerate his abuse. Instead, I talked back, holding our daughter and declaring I was going back to my mother’s house. “Go back then! Don’t think about using any money from my salary card once you’re gone!” Garrett shouted in his rage. In his fury, he didn’t forget to snatch away the salary card he had just given me a few days ago. I laughed coldly, turned around without looking back, and left with our daughter. The voice recorder I left in the bedroom went unnoticed by him. I knew clearly that the effects of that Viagra pill wouldn’t let him give up so easily. I didn’t leave the community. Instead, after entrusting my daughter to my best friend’s care, I personally staked out in the car downstairs. Sure enough, an hour later, I spotted a beautiful silhouette. The girl looked about twenty, with unremarkable features, but her silicone-filled body was like an inflatable doll, resembling a ripe peach about to burst. However, the pretty girl hesitated for a long time downstairs without going up. Instead, she called Garrett. On the voice recorder’s end, my husband excitedly said: “Come up quickly, I can’t wait another second. I’m about to explode. I took Viagra today and even put on a pain relief patch. My herniated disc doesn’t hurt anymore!” But this time, the girl paused for a moment. “Mr. Parker, I came this time to ask for the payment from our previous encounters.” “If you’re not willing to settle the full amount at once, I won’t come up,” she said. Garrett was silent for a long time on the other end. The girl explained that every time he said “definitely next time,” he also promised to add interest. So this time, she was asking for the principal plus interest. There was no cash at home, and if Garrett chose to transfer online, it would inevitably leave a trail. I was very curious how my extremely stingy husband would handle this fee of several thousand dollars. But I never expected that on the recorder’s end, a man’s crying sound would suddenly be heard.

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Three days before the wedding, I received a friend request on Instagram. The profile picture was of a cute cat — the British Shorthair my fiancé used to have. The message attached read: “He loves you, but he raised a cat with me.” This message came in while Daniel was in the shower, and his phone was right there on the nightstand. I always prided myself on being calm and rational, but when I picked up his phone to check the cat in that profile picture, a cold shiver ran down my spine. Her Instagram Stories were public, and they were filled with vague, melancholic posts and endless pictures of the cat. Occasionally, there’d be a hand in the frame — not a woman’s hand, but one I recognized. I had held that hand for five years. When Daniel came out of the shower and saw me wrapped tightly in the comforter, he looked puzzled. “Is the AC too cold?” No, it wasn’t. It was set to 77 degrees, but I couldn’t stop shaking. I couldn’t calm myself. Once a seed of doubt is planted, it grows like a weed. I suddenly remembered the time when Daniel left me at the bridal shop to take a call. He had said it was urgent work, but it was a Sunday. He’s a product manager. There are no suppliers working on Sundays. And then there were the nights he’d come home late from “working overtime,” his clothes covered in cat fur. He said he’d gone to a cat café to de-stress. I hate cats. That British Shorthair was given away because of me. Clutching the blanket around me, I forced myself to be calm. “I feel like having some spicy chili bowl, can you go get it for me?” Daniel sighed, a bit exasperated, “I just got out of the shower, and you’re already sending me out again.” But he grabbed the keys and left, as he always did when I asked for something, patient and kind. But inside, I felt like my heart was being torn apart. I accepted the friend request and immediately sent a message: “How far have you two gone?” Her reply came almost instantly, as if she had anticipated my question. “Don’t worry, we’ve never slept together. But I kissed him, and he didn’t stop me.” I laughed bitterly at her response, but the chill in my heart only deepened. “When did it start?” I asked. She dodged the question with another cryptic reply. “My cat is cute, isn’t it?” A wave of pain hit me, and I gasped for breath. I coughed violently, my chest burning from the effort. By the time the coughing fit subsided, I knew. The cat was the beginning. It was a year ago when Daniel’s heart wandered.

I met Daniel during a college Student Government Association event. He was a year ahead of me, already on the executive committee when we met. By junior year, the SGA starts handing responsibilities over to the younger students. That’s when Daniel finally asked me out. Because he didn’t want any gossip, he spent a long time pursuing me in secret, which, to be honest, was pretty thrilling at the time. We flirted for two years. Two blissful years where I felt like I was living in a bubble of happiness. So, when he officially asked me out, I didn’t hesitate to say yes. Now that I think about it, maybe with her, it was the same thrill of secrecy. Maybe back then, Daniel wasn’t just worried about gossip — maybe he just liked the thrill of the chase. The thought made me sick. He’s good-looking by most people’s standards. Patient, too. Comes from a decent family, the type that can afford to pay for a small house in full. Over the years, he’s had his fair share of admirers. But he never gave anyone else a chance. For the seven years we dated, his friends mocked him for being the “perfect boyfriend.” We fit well together, likely because of the long, slow build of our relationship, so our feelings for each other stayed fresh longer than most couples’. Everyone envied our relationship. If there was one major difference between us, it was that he loved cats, and I hated them. Last spring, he found a tiny British Shorthair at a park. The poor thing looked abandoned or lost. It was filthy, its eyes crusted shut, barely making a sound. Daniel had always wanted a cat but held off because of me. The minute he brought that one home, he fell in love with it. He took it to the vet, got it cleaned up, and begged me to let him keep it. I was exasperated and told him he could keep it somewhere else, just not in our home. A few days later, after I didn’t budge, he gave the cat away. We were cold toward each other for a few days, but then things went back to normal. I thought it was just a minor bump in our relationship. I had no idea it was the start of something much bigger. He had started to develop feelings for someone else, and I was clueless. He still wove this perfect narrative of love and happiness with me, proposing and planning our future together, even preparing our new home. I glanced at the clock. The place that makes my favorite spicy chili bowl is a ten-minute walk from here. It’s on a narrow street, packed with pedestrians, so walking is faster than driving. Daniel would definitely walk. Between ordering and walking back, he’d be gone for about thirty minutes. I had already wasted a few minutes. That left me with about twenty minutes to make a decision. Should I pretend nothing happened? Or should I burst the bubble of this perfect love everyone envied? I wiped my red, trembling eyes, took half a minute to decide, and shoved my credit cards, bank cards, and important documents into my bag. The rest didn’t matter. But as I grabbed my keys, I couldn’t hold it together anymore. The keychain was one we’d bought together after Daniel asked me out. It was a cute cartoon couple, a boy and a girl. I had the boy, and he had the girl. We kept them for five years, and even when the paint chipped, we didn’t replace them. I thought it symbolized happiness. Now I see it as a joke. Frustrated, I tried ripping off the charm, but the harder I tried, the harder it was to pull apart. I broke down, sobbing, before finally grabbing a pair of scissors and cutting the charm in half. The house we were about to move into after the wedding was partly his — he’d paid the down payment, but I had paid for the renovations. Our wedding funds were split between two bank accounts, both of which I had with me now. I’m not stupid. I’d wasted nine years of my life on this relationship; I wasn’t going to leave empty-handed. His car was fully paid for, so I didn’t touch it. I slipped out through the back of the building and headed to the Holiday Inn across the street. I checked into a room, dropped off my things, and then my phone rang. It was Daniel, asking me where I was. I looked out the window at the familiar neighborhood, my heart aching. “We’re breaking up.” He was furious. “Sarah, what the hell are you talking about? We’re getting married in three days! Do you even care about my feelings?” I didn’t answer directly. Instead, I asked, “That cat I told you to give away last year… it must weigh about twenty pounds by now, right?” He didn’t say a word. Suddenly, everything felt meaningless. My youth had been a foolish dream, and now my passion had turned cold. “I’ll tell our families I’m sick. The wedding’s off. Dan, let’s end this with some dignity. I want to hold onto at least a little bit of good memory.” Before he could respond, I hung up the phone. Twenty minutes. That’s all it took to destroy the love story I thought would last forever. Like crashing off a cliff, I hit rock bottom, shattering into pieces.

I don’t know how long I cried, but when I woke up, it was already the next afternoon. My eyes were so swollen they looked like walnuts, and I could barely speak. My whole body felt weak. I didn’t even feel hungry. My head was a mess, thoughts tangled up. I kept thinking about that cat, the wedding two days away, the house we were supposed to live in, and the seven years I had wasted on him. I felt so disgusted I had to run to the trash can and throw up. There was nothing in my stomach, so I just dry-heaved bile. Exhausted, I called room service and forced myself to eat something. Once I had some strength back, I turned my phone on. The notifications came pouring in — missed calls, texts, Instagram messages, everything. I knew I couldn’t avoid this. No matter how awful it all felt, I had to deal with it. I called my dad first. As expected, the moment he picked up, he asked, “Where are you?” “You need to stop acting out. The wedding is in two days! What were you thinking, running off like this? Daniel came over last night, said he screwed up and made you mad. Fine, be angry, but don’t joke around with the wedding!” That confirmed it for me. Dan hadn’t told my parents about the other woman. Of course not. The invitations had been sent, the hotel and catering booked, the guest list finalized. Canceling now would be humiliating for both families. But who in their right mind would let this all go on as if nothing happened? When I got home that evening, my parents were both there. So was Daniel. The moment he saw me, Daniel dropped to his knees. My parents were shocked, and I could feel the lump forming in my throat as I asked, “What are you doing?” His eyes were bloodshot, and stubble had started to grow along his jawline. He looked like he hadn’t slept. He grabbed my hands, his voice trembling with desperation as he apologized. “Sarah, I’m sorry. I’m a horrible person. I messed up. Please don’t cancel the wedding. I can’t lose you. We’re about to get married. You can’t just leave me now.” “Oh, so you remember we’re about to get married?” The hurt and bitterness welled up in me, replacing the sadness. I picked up a mug from the coffee table and hurled it at him. “When you were out there walking her cat, holding her hand, kissing her, did you remember that we were getting married?” I slapped him, not once, but twice, as hard as I could. But even that didn’t bring any satisfaction. I was out of control, pulling at his hair, kicking him. Everything was chaos. My parents tried to pull me away, panicking at my wild outburst. Daniel sat on the floor, taking the beating without defending himself, apologizing over and over again. Suddenly, a wave of nausea hit me, and I doubled over in pain, my hand instinctively going to my stomach. My breathing became ragged, and I slumped down onto the floor, gasping. “I’m pregnant.” The room fell into complete silence. Daniel stared at me, eyes wide with a mix of shock and hope. I looked down, and we all saw it at the same time—the dark red stain slowly spreading beneath me. Daniel’s face turned ghostly white as he rushed toward me, arms shaking as he held me close. “I was going to surprise you on our wedding day,” I said, my voice cold and distant. “Are you happy now?”

The baby was gone. When the doctor confirmed it, it felt like my soul left my body. The pain was so sharp that it numbed me entirely. Daniel collapsed to the floor in the hospital, sobbing uncontrollably, screaming at me for not telling him about the pregnancy earlier. I glared at him, every ounce of hatred I’d been holding back now rising to the surface. I wanted to rip him apart. “What right do you have to question me?” I spat, yanking out the IV from my arm and kicking him in the shoulder. “We’re done. Get out of my life.” But he didn’t leave. He wrapped his arms around my legs, weeping loudly. “We’ve been together for seven years! Seven years! I can’t lose you now! I was an idiot! I never slept with her! Please, give me another chance!” I wanted to vomit. If he really cared about me, if he cared about our child, why did he let another woman slip into our life? The baby was gone now, and all those years of love had turned into nothing. It was only now, when everything had fallen apart, that he wanted to beg for forgiveness. “I swear, I never crossed that line with her. We just talked about cats! If I’m lying, may I be struck by lightning!” He was truly desperate now. He even handed me his phone. The messages he showed me were from someone he had saved as ‘Kelly.’ The chats were innocent — mostly about cats and work, nothing incriminating. “She’s new at my company. We only talked a few times outside of work, and it was just about the cat,” he pleaded. “How did it start?” I asked calmly, though I already knew the answer. I wasn’t stupid. If he was showing me these, it was because he had already hidden the real evidence. While I pretended to interrogate him, I quietly navigated his phone. I opened his battery usage log and found a suspiciously high amount of activity on an unfamiliar Instagram account. It wasn’t his main account. The moment he was distracted, I wrote down the handle. His phone had a dual-account feature, and I knew exactly how to access it. I switched to the other account, where the battery log had revealed his secret. There it was—messages and photos with her. She was the woman who had messaged me, telling me she had kissed him. And there were even more messages. Flirty, explicit ones, with private photos of her. My heart felt like it was being torn apart again, but I forced myself to remain calm. I quickly silenced the phone and acted like I was still angry, throwing a pillow at him. “If you really had nothing going on with her, why didn’t you ever tell me about her? You must like her!” As expected, Daniel panicked and began explaining. While he was flustered, I changed the settings on his Instagram account, linking his backup account to my own phone. Then, I returned his phone, pretending to be exhausted from my outburst. “Just go. Let me think about this.” Thinking I had finally calmed down, he reluctantly left. But I was far from calm. My body was shaking, not just from the physical pain of losing the baby but from the overwhelming emotional devastation. I lay in bed, too drained to cry, my soul feeling crushed. My parents checked in on me later, but they could see how bad my state was. They decided to give me some space, promising to bring me soup later. Once they were gone, I sat up, my mind clouded. I opened Daniel’s secret Instagram account and began reading through the disgusting messages between him and her. I had to think about my next move, but my head was pounding, and my ears were ringing.

The next morning, Daniel showed up at the hospital with his parents. His mother was crying, apologizing for her son’s mistakes. Daniel’s father gave him a few slaps on the back to “make up” for what he had done. It was all for show. They apologized, said how much they regretted everything, but soon enough, they shifted the conversation to the wedding. They couldn’t bear the idea of canceling it. The embarrassment would be too much for both families. I felt sick, my stomach turning at the mere thought of continuing with the wedding. “Don’t worry, we’ll punish him for what he did. We’ll make him delete all contact with that woman. If he ever does anything like this again, his father and I will deal with him ourselves!” Daniel’s mom was crying, clutching my hand dramatically. If this had happened five or six years ago, I might have been naïve enough to forgive him right then and there. But I wasn’t that gullible anymore. They thought they could sweep everything under the rug, that I would swallow my pride and continue life as if nothing had happened. But what about my baby? Was that little life just supposed to disappear without consequence? I couldn’t accept that. Anger pounded in my ears. My head felt like it was going to explode. I shoved Daniel’s mother away from me and ran to the trash can to throw up. She gasped. “Are you still pregnant? Could the baby still be alive?” Her words stabbed at my already raw heart. What was she implying—that I had lied about losing the baby? But I knew it wasn’t the time to lose control. I lifted my head and stared straight at Daniel. “The wedding doesn’t have to be canceled.” I told him that I had just gone through a miscarriage, so there was no way I could leave the hospital anytime soon. Besides, his relationship with that woman made me sick. But if he could promise never to make the same mistake again, I would agree to postpone the wedding. However, I demanded that I be the one to hold the keys to the house. Daniel’s mother beamed. “Of course, of course! Postponing is fine! As long as we’re not canceling, everything will be alright.” Daniel, on the other hand, looked uneasy. He asked if I didn’t trust him. My anger surged again, and my ears buzzed. “You caused me to lose my child because you were off playing games with another woman, and now you expect me to trust you? Either agree to my terms or get out!” My parents started shouting at him too. The whole hospital room erupted into chaos again, and I pressed the nurse’s call button. “I can’t hear. I feel like I’m going to be sick.” Two doctors arrived quickly and asked everyone to leave the room. They checked my symptoms and seemed concerned. After a brief consultation, one of them led me to the ear, nose, and throat department for further testing. After running through my medical history and looking at my symptoms, the doctor finally pulled down his mask. His face lit up with recognition as he said, “Sarah Williams, from Class 3 at Lincoln High? Do you remember me? I’m Michael Freed, from Class 2. We danced together for the school anniversary celebration.”

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I’m an on-call doctor in the Emergency Room. In the ER, you see all kinds of strange things. Once, we had a kid who stuffed a ball in her mouth and couldn’t get it out… But one night, something happened that I never could have imagined—the patient brought to the ER was my wife, and the reason she was there was unspeakable. It was late at night in the ER. I was yawning out of boredom, my eyes half-shut, and I was nearly asleep. “Dr. Rivers, we’ve got a patient!” The night nurse, Amber, rushed into the ER, her voice urgent. Instantly, I was wide awake. I wiped my face and stood up. “What’s the situation?” I asked hurriedly. “The patient, she… she…” Amber trailed off, looking uncomfortable. Seeing this, I didn’t ask any more questions. In the ER, I’ve seen my share of bizarre cases. But when the nurse wheeled the patient into the room, I froze. I never expected to see my wife in the ER. “Savannah!” My face went pale as I rushed over to her. Savannah’s face was white, and she had passed out completely. “Dr. Rivers, do you know her?” Amber asked, surprised. “She’s my wife,” I said without turning around, immediately beginning to examine her. There were no visible injuries on her face or body, but she was still unconscious. Internal injuries? My heart raced. Internal injuries can be even more serious than external ones. But when I checked her legs, I froze in shock. I knew what this was, immediately. The room spun for a second, and my breathing became rapid. I almost collapsed right there in the ER. Savannah and I had been married for two years. Our relationship was normal—we never explored anything out of the ordinary in bed. Savannah’s… back door was a place I’d never been, and we’d never used any… equipment like this. But now, it was clear that Savannah had passed out from a rectal tear.

Suddenly, I felt like I had been completely betrayed. There was no way Savannah had done this to herself. I stared at her in disbelief. “Dr. Rivers, what should we do now?” Amber asked, her expression uneasy. Her eyes were filled with mockery and judgment, or at least that’s how it felt to me. I took a deep breath and said grimly, “Prepare the anesthetic. We’re going to operate.” Amber quickly got to work, and soon handed me the anesthetic. I administered the drug to Savannah and removed the foreign object myself, suppressing my fury the entire time. I stitched up her injury, barely keeping my hands steady. “Take her to the Inpatient Ward,” I said, then stormed out of the ER. Outside, I stood alone and lit a cigarette. One after the other, I smoked, my mind filled with images of what I had just seen. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I felt like a complete fool. “Damn it!” I shouted, crushing the cigarette under my foot. Amber, who had followed me out, looked startled and quickly stopped talking. With a scowl, I barked at the rest of the staff, “Less talking, more working! Or are you all just standing around for fun?” They scattered at once. I went back inside to check on Savannah. She had already been transferred to the Inpatient Ward. I wanted to rush to her room and demand answers right then and there, but the ER couldn’t be left unattended. If a patient came in and I wasn’t there, the consequences could be severe. Common sense kept me at the hospital. As soon as my shift ended, I raced to the ward and found Savannah’s room. She was still unconscious from the anesthetic. I stood by her bedside, looking down at the woman I knew so well, but who suddenly felt like a stranger to me. I didn’t know how long I stood there before her eyelashes fluttered, and she opened her eyes. “Ethan?” Savannah looked at me in confusion. “Why am I here?” My eyes burned with fury. Panic flashed across her face. “Ethan, listen to me, this is all a misunderstanding!” she blurted, reaching for my hand. I yanked my hand away. “A misunderstanding? We’ve been married two years, and you wouldn’t even let me touch you there! But you’re out here doing this with someone else?” “Savannah! How could I have been so blind?” I was shouting at her now. Savannah burst into tears, crying, “Ethan, please, let me explain. It’s not what you think… it’s really not…” “Enough!” I cut her off, glaring at her with all the disgust I felt, and walked out of the room. “Ethan!” Savannah sobbed behind me, but my heart didn’t soften. She had betrayed me and made a fool of me in front of everyone. And now she had the nerve to cry? Back at home, I stared at the wedding photo hanging on the wall, feeling nothing but bitterness. My phone rang—it was Savannah. I hung up. She called again. I hung up once more. Finally, I turned off my phone. Out of sight, out of mind. I grabbed a case of beer from the fridge and started drinking, bottle after bottle. Soon enough, I had finished all twelve beers. I grabbed another case, but after only a few more bottles, I felt my stomach turn. I ran to the bathroom and threw up violently into the toilet. Then, I collapsed on the bathroom floor and passed out. “Ethan! Ethan! Wake up!” A voice shouted me awake. I opened my heavy eyes and saw a blurry figure standing over me. “Ethan, what the hell are you doing, drinking yourself to death?” The figure slapped my face lightly, helping me sit up. It was Landon, my best friend. “Landon? What are you doing here?” I slurred, my tongue thick with alcohol. Landon wrinkled his nose. “How much did you drink? You stink!” “Savannah called me. She couldn’t get ahold of you and asked me to come check on you.” 3. The moment I heard Savannah’s name, rage surged through me. I shouted, “She actually had the nerve to send you here? Get lost! Tell her to go to hell!” Landon stared at me in shock. He nudged my arm and asked, “Ethan, what the hell is going on? I thought you and Savannah were good?” My face, already flushed from the alcohol, darkened even more. “She cheated.” “What? Savannah cheated?” Landon’s disbelief was written all over his face. I let out a bitter laugh. “You don’t believe it? Hell, I didn’t either!” “But she was sent to my ER, Landon. How could I not believe it?” I ran my hands through my hair, feeling the frustration and pain deep in my bones, my eyes bloodshot. “What exactly happened? Tell me everything.” Clenching my teeth, I told Landon the whole story, every painful detail. When I was done, Landon’s mouth hung open for a moment before he sighed and patted me on the shoulder. “So, what’s your plan? Are you getting a divorce?” I looked down, my voice full of bitterness, “What else? You think I’m going to wait around?” Landon hesitated, then said, “Look, is it possible there’s some misunderstanding? I’ve known Savannah for a while, and I just don’t see her doing something like this.” “Misunderstanding?!” I shouted, my voice raw with anger. “She tore herself open, Landon! What kind of misunderstanding could possibly explain that?!” Seeing how angry I was, Landon didn’t press the issue. “Alright, if that’s what you’ve decided. But you’ll need a lawyer for the divorce. Right now, you don’t have any solid proof of her cheating. If you go through with it now, you’ll probably have to split everything, right? I’m pretty sure you paid for the house.” I froze. “You’re telling me if I divorce her now, I have to give her half of my house?” Landon nodded. “That’s bullshit!” I yelled. Landon shrugged. “Look, don’t take it out on me. That’s just how it works. Unless you can find hard evidence that she cheated.” I stood there, my face twisting with rage. Then I gritted my teeth and said, “Fine. I’ll wait. I’ll gather proof and make sure she walks away with nothing.” Two days later, Savannah was discharged from the hospital. Those two days were pure agony. Every time I was at work, I felt the eyes of my coworkers burning into me. The humiliation was unbearable. The more they stared, the more my hatred for Savannah grew. If it weren’t for the plan to strip her of everything, I would’ve divorced her on the spot. Savannah was discharged while I was working the night shift. She came to the ER. “Ethan.” She stood in the doorway, wringing her hands together, looking pitiful and small. I gave her a cold look, saying nothing. Seeing my reaction, she stepped closer. “Ethan, please, let me explain. It’s not what you think…” “Get out,” I said coldly, cutting her off. I didn’t want to hear another word. Tears sprang to her eyes. She pulled out her phone and held it out to me. “Ethan, if you just watch this video, you’ll understand. I know I was wrong, but things aren’t how they seem.” I felt my jaw tighten as I stared at the phone in her hand. A video? She had the audacity to record this? Fine, I thought. I’ll watch your damn video. Let’s see just how deep you’ve dug yourself. I snatched the phone from her hand, my fingers trembling with rage, and opened the video. Savannah’s scream filled the room. “Ahhh!” “Don’t be scared, Savannah,” a woman’s voice said. “It hurts at first, but you’ll get used to it. Look at me—I did.”

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My husband committed suicide on our wedding night. My mother-in-law frantically tore at my clothes, telling everyone that I was responsible for her son’s death. Everyone thought she had gone mad. Only I, smiling at her crazed state, leaned in and whispered softly, “You’re next.” My husband, Mark Foster, committed suicide. On our wedding night, he suddenly rushed to his mother, who hadn’t left yet, and frantically shouted at her, “Do I have a sister?” My mother-in-law, Evelyn, firmly denied it: “Your father only has you as his son. Where would a sister come from?” After hearing this, Mark laughed maniacally, turned around, ran to the balcony, opened the window, and jumped straight down. As we left the funeral home, Evelyn was crying her heart out, barely able to stand. She had to rely on Richard, my father-in-law, to support her. Richard’s eyes were red and bloodshot, the pain of losing his son had turned his hair white overnight. He looked much older than before. I followed behind them, wearing all black, my already thin frame looking even more fragile. It seemed like a gust of wind could blow me away. Many relatives and friends looked at me with pity in their eyes. After all, I had just gotten married, and my husband committed suicide. I went from being a bride to a widow in an instant. How could they not feel sorry for me? Some people came forward to comfort me: “Lily, what’s done is done. You’re still young, you need to look forward.” These words were said neither too loudly nor too softly, just loud enough for my mother-in-law to hear. She suddenly turned her head, looking at me with hatred in her eyes. “It’s you! It’s all because of you, you harbinger of bad luck! You’re the one who caused my son’s death!” “My son was such a good person, so cheerful and optimistic. But as soon as he married you, he committed suicide. You’re a jinx, a cursed thing! Give me back my son!” Evelyn became more and more agitated as she spoke, her eyes flashing with a fierce light. She suddenly lunged at me and grabbed my throat. A tremendous sense of suffocation washed over me. I clawed at her hands, trying to break free from her grip, while desperately gasping for air. But I still couldn’t escape the feeling of near-death brought on by the lack of oxygen. Fortunately, Richard and some relatives and friends quickly pulled Evelyn away from me. Only then was I able to break free, sitting on the ground and taking big gulps of fresh air. Evelyn, unable to strangle me, was unsatisfied and continued to shout and scream, trying to lunge at me again: “Lily White, you cursed thing, I want you to pay for my son’s life! Go die, go die!” The commotion attracted many passersby who stopped to watch. Richard, seeing that she was making such a scene and feeling embarrassed, couldn’t help but slap her face: “Shut up!” Only then did Evelyn quiet down. Seeing that Evelyn had stopped making a fuss, Richard turned to look at me: “Lily, your mother-in-law is grieving the loss of her child. She’s temporarily lost her senses. Don’t take it to heart.” I nodded with red-rimmed eyes: “Dad, I understand Mom’s feelings. I don’t blame her.” My obedience brought a hint of satisfaction to Richard’s face. He nodded at me with a gentle tone: “You’re a good girl. I’m sorry for what you’ve been through.” Because Evelyn was too emotional, I had to leave early. Back in our marital home, the silence in the room was suffocating. I stood in front of the wedding photo of Mark and me, looking at his sunny and handsome face. My vision blurred with tears. This marital home was carefully decorated by Mark and me together. All the furniture was what we both liked best. Who could have imagined that the sunny, cheerful guy who had sworn eternal love to me during the day would become a broken corpse by night? I sat quietly in the marital home until late into the night, finally falling into a drowsy sleep leaning against the bed. The next day, I was awakened by the loud sound of an electric drill outside the door. Opening the door, I saw Evelyn with a locksmith trying to force open my front door! As soon as she saw me, Evelyn rushed over uncontrollably, grabbed my clothes, and pushed me out of the door. “Lily White, you caused my son’s death, and you still dare to live in my son’s house? Get out!” “Mom, don’t do this. This is my home too, it’s Mark’s and my home!” I pleaded desperately. But Evelyn spat at me viciously: “Bah! This house was bought by my son. You caused his death, you jinx, and you still have the face to stay here? You still want to call this your home? You’re an orphan with no parents, how could you afford a multi-million dollar apartment? Shameless thing!” As Evelyn cursed, she picked up my belongings and threw them out. The room quickly became a mess. When Evelyn was about to destroy the wedding photo of my husband and me, I finally couldn’t bear it anymore and rushed over to protect the photo tightly: “Mom, I beg you, please don’t. This is the only memento Mark left for me.” Evelyn was unmoved. Unable to destroy the wedding photo, she started punching and kicking me frantically. “Sir, please help me call the police, please help me!” I could only cry out to the locksmith for help. The locksmith outside had been stunned by what he was seeing. Looking at the frenzied Evelyn and pitiful me, he promptly took out his phone and called the police. Only after the police arrived did Evelyn reluctantly stop. She then turned to the police and tearfully accused me of trying to take over the family property after her son’s death. With no other choice, I took out the property deed with my name on it: “Mom, this house really is mine.” However, after seeing the property deed, Evelyn became even more agitated. “Lily White! This house was clearly bought by my son. It must be you, you must have tricked him into transferring the house to you and then killed him!” Her eyes were bloodshot, her shrill voice almost piercing the eardrums of everyone present. “Lily White, you’re a murderer! I’ll make you pay for my son’s life!” Saying this, she rushed over to strangle me. The police nearby hurriedly came forward to stop her, protecting me behind them. However, Evelyn was out of control by now. She frantically waved her hands trying to hit me, and all the police protecting me suffered as a result. In the end, the police, in anger, took both her and me to the police station. Even so, Evelyn showed no remorse. Sitting in the police car, she looked at me with venomous eyes: “Lily White, you killed my son. I will definitely make you pay for my son’s life!” I leaned back against the seat, my face pale, still with a hint of grievance. I turned to look at Evelyn, the corner of my mouth curling up imperceptibly: “Mom, don’t you know how Mark died?” Upon hearing this, Evelyn’s face turned deathly pale. Not long after entering the police station, Richard came. He took Evelyn and me out of the police station with an extremely displeased expression. I noticed that when he saw Evelyn, his hand moved slightly, but in the end, he forcefully restrained himself from slapping her. He only coldly rebuked Evelyn: “If you dare to do such embarrassing things again, don’t blame me for being unkind!” Evelyn looked up at him, and there was a hint of panic in that glance. She moved her mouth, wanting to say something, but upon seeing me beside her, she tightly closed her mouth again. Perhaps because of Evelyn’s false accusations, Richard felt he owed me something. He rarely let me ride in their car, personally sending me home. On the way, Richard apologized to me on behalf of Evelyn in a gentle tone: “Lily, your mother-in-law has been in a bad mood lately, always suspicious. Don’t take it to heart. Rest assured, no one in the company will gossip about this matter.” However, I didn’t obediently agree as I had before. Instead, I turned back with red-rimmed eyes, looking at Richard sitting in the back seat, and choked out: “Dad, I know Mom is upset about losing her son, but I’ve lost my husband too!” “Mark and I had even bought tickets to Bali, but that night he suddenly rushed out inexplicably after talking to Mom for a few words, and then jumped off the building.” “Dad, I’ve been holding back from asking, but with Mom repeatedly tormenting me like this, I really can’t take it anymore. I just want to know, Mom, what exactly did you and Mark talk about? Why did it make Mark suddenly jump to his death?” In the car, following my last question, the atmosphere instantly became as if we had fallen into an ice pit. I saw Richard’s expression change from calm to shocked and then to angry in an instant. He stared at Evelyn with wide eyes, his gaze almost spitting fire: “The last time our son died, he was talking to you?” Evelyn was silent, lowering her head and not daring to make a sound. I looked at them, finding their expressions particularly interesting. Richard didn’t notice my gaze. He stared fixedly at Evelyn and roared: “Speak! What exactly did you say to our son?” This shout not only frightened Evelyn but even made the driver’s body tremble. Evelyn couldn’t help but whimper softly, pitifully saying: “I, I didn’t say anything. That night Mark suddenly ran out and asked me if he had a sister. I said no, but then he turned around and jumped off the building.” “Why would he suddenly ask this question?” Richard’s eyes flashed. Evelyn answered tearfully: “I don’t know either. Besides, whether he had a sister or not, how could that be related to Mark’s suicide? Could it be that someone forced him to commit suicide?” As she spoke, she unconsciously looked up at me again, meeting my deep gaze. She suddenly became agitated, grabbing the pensive Richard and pointing at me, shouting: “It’s her, it must be her. That night, besides me, it was only her in the bridal chamber. Mark was with her in the bedroom before he came out. It must be her who killed Mark!” My eyes instantly welled up with tears: “Mom, before Mark came out to find you, he was opening wedding gifts with me.” But Evelyn shrilly retorted: “You’re lying! Mark never liked opening gifts since he was a child. How could he possibly open gifts with you?” “But I like it, and Mark was just accompanying me…” At this point, I was already in tears. Mentioning that night was like hanging my heart on a scaffold and repeatedly torturing it. Just a second before, we were so sweet, and the next second, Mark was left with only a broken corpse. Evelyn wanted to refute me again, but was sternly stopped by Richard. He looked at me, crying with tears streaming down my face, his eyes filled with pity: “Wipe your tears. Mark wouldn’t want to see you suffering like this in heaven.” I nodded chokingly and wiped away my tears with a tissue, but my eyes still held a mist that hadn’t had time to dissipate, looking hazy. When getting out of the car, Richard instructed me: “Take good care of yourself when you get back. Don’t think too much. Your mom won’t act up again.” “Thank you, Dad.” I turned back and choked out a word of thanks. Richard met my misty eyes and his expression unconsciously froze for a moment, but he quickly came back to his senses and smiled gently at me. Watching the car leave, a hint of mockery flashed in my eyes. After returning from the police station, Evelyn never came to bother me again. After resting quietly for a while, I returned to work at the company. The company I work for is Foster Group. Yes, it’s my husband’s family company. I currently hold the position of Deputy Manager in the company, a position I didn’t get because of my relationship with Mark Foster. On the contrary, Mark Foster and I got to know each other after I became Deputy Manager. At that time, he held a nominal position of Manager in the company, but he actually lacked work experience. Richard often asked him to learn more from me. As we interacted more, we became familiar with each other, and our relationship gradually changed from superior and subordinate to a romantic one. Actually, my mother-in-law looked down on me, but Mark liked me and insisted on marrying me. Richard didn’t oppose me marrying Mark. He thought I was capable at work and would be a good helper for Mark’s career in the future. Originally, Mark and I had taken a two-month honeymoon leave and planned to go on a nice honeymoon after getting married. Unexpectedly, Mark… Now only I returned to the company alone. The employees of the company saw my haggard appearance and all showed sympathetic looks. During lunch, Richard rarely invited me to have a meal with him. While eating, he kept asking me if Mark had said anything strange before jumping off the building. I shook my head, with red-rimmed eyes, and answered: “No, Mark was opening wedding gifts with me before he went out. But he seemed to receive a text message before going out.” Richard immediately became serious: “What text message?” I lowered my head, feeling somewhat guilty: “I don’t know.” Richard sighed somewhat helplessly and didn’t say anything more. When Mark jumped, his phone was smashed to pieces along with him. Now it’s impossible to check the text messages. So, what text message he received, except for himself, no one else knows. Back home, I opened my email and was startled by the flashing ghost GIF on the screen. Then a message came through SnapChat: How is it? Satisfied? I replied: It’s fine. Wait for my news. The other party responded: Okay. I closed the computer, went downstairs to buy a basket of fresh fruit, and drove to Evelyn’s house. When Evelyn saw me arrive, her face immediately darkened, and she coldly asked: “What are you doing here?” I held the gifts I bought for them, feeling very depressed: “Mom, I wanted to see where Mark grew up.” At the mention of Mark, Evelyn exploded instantly. She pushed me away, causing me to fall down the steps at the entrance of the villa, scattering the fruits I had bought all over the ground. “Get out of here, you harbinger of misfortune! This is not a place for you to come!” Evelyn slammed the door shut. I looked at the closed door, closed my eyes for a moment, got up from the ground, and slowly picked up the fruits one by one. Tears fell uncontrollably. Suddenly, Richard’s voice came from above: “Lily, why are you here?” I looked up and saw Richard standing in front of me. I quickly wiped away my tears and forced a smile: “Dad, I just wanted to come home and see. This is where Mark grew up, I wanted to take a look…” By the end, my tears were flowing uncontrollably again. Richard looked at the scattered fruits on the ground and seemed to understand what had happened. He sighed and squatted down to help me pick up all the fruits back into the basket: “You’re a good girl, what a pity…” I wiped my tears: “Dad, can I ask you for something? Can I stay here for a while? I’ll just stay in Mark’s room. This is Mark’s home, and here I can feel Mark’s presence, as if he hasn’t left, as if he’s still with me. Please, Dad.” Richard looked at me with complex emotions: “But, you know what your mom is like…” “It’s okay, I’ll just stay in Mark’s room. I absolutely won’t have any conflicts with Mom,” I quickly promised. Richard eventually softened and agreed. Seeing Richard agree, I immediately brightened up, picked up the collected fruits, and was about to walk towards the front door. But as soon as I lifted my leg, I felt a sharp pain in my right ankle. I couldn’t help but cry out in pain and crouched down. Richard turned back and saw me holding my ankle, my face pale, with beads of sweat already forming on my forehead. He quickly came forward and asked: “What’s wrong?” “It’s nothing…” I smiled and quickly stood up, bravely taking a step forward, but soon crouched down again in pain. Richard quickly squatted down to check. I tried to cover it up, but he impatiently moved my hand away. My slender ankle was already swollen high. My skin was originally fair and delicate, and the faint bruise on my ankle made the uninjured parts of my skin look even more delicate and soft. Richard’s pupils contracted imperceptibly for a moment, but he quickly stood up: “Don’t move. I’ll take you to the hospital.” He called for the driver to bring the car over, helped me limp into the car, and took me to the hospital. At the hospital, after a series of examinations, it was found that I had a minor fracture in my ankle and needed three months of rest. After the doctor put on a cast and prescribed medicine, Richard took me back to the Foster home. Originally, I wanted to say it wasn’t necessary, but Richard felt that my fracture was caused by Evelyn, so she should take care of me. When we got home, Evelyn saw Richard bringing me in and immediately started making a fuss, wanting to drive me out. But Richard didn’t give her any face: “You broke Lily’s ankle, so you should take care of her! If you’re not willing, get out right now.” Seeing Richard angry, Evelyn immediately became docile and reluctantly agreed to let me stay in Mark’s room. But it was impossible for her to take care of me. Fortunately, there was a housekeeper, Mrs. Liu, who was responsible for bringing me meals and water every day. Mark’s room had its own bathroom, so I didn’t need to wander around deliberately. Richard saw my obedience and was very pleased. Although Evelyn didn’t care much about me, he would occasionally come to the room to see me and ask how my foot was recovering. Sometimes he would even discuss work situations with me. I had worked my way up from the bottom to the position of Deputy Manager, so naturally, I was very familiar with various aspects of the company. Therefore, Richard and I could always have pleasant conversations. Sometimes, as long as he opened his mouth, I could naturally follow up on his next sentence. Gradually, Richard’s attitude towards me became more and more amiable. Obviously, both my work ability and my personality were very much to his liking. He often came home to chat with me, and sometimes when the company encountered some problems, he would even message me to ask for my opinion. Under my advice, the company even secured several big deals that were previously impossible to get. Richard’s attitude towards me completely changed to one of appreciation after this. He liked talking to me more and more, as if he had found a kindred spirit in me. However, occasionally, I felt that the way Richard looked at me was a bit different, as if he was seeing someone else through me. Because Richard visited my room too frequently to talk, it soon aroused Evelyn’s suspicion. Evelyn began to frequently enter and exit my room after Richard entered. She would bring me a plate of cut fruit, or a cup of hot water, or juice. She acted like a caring mother-in-law. Even Richard was surprised and couldn’t help but praise Evelyn: “You’re finally starting to act like an elder should.” Evelyn gave Richard a coquettish glance: “Wasn’t it because of Mark’s incident earlier that I couldn’t come to terms with it?” But when she turned her face, her eyes were as cold as if they were filled with ice shards when she looked at me. I pretended not to see the disgust in her eyes and obediently accepted what she handed over: “Thank you, Mom.” Evelyn looked at me with a fake smile: “You’re welcome.” After saying this, she twisted her voluptuous waist and left the room. Richard watched Evelyn leave and smiled at me: “Your mom is just tough on the outside but soft on the inside. She was stuck in a rut before, but now that she’s come to terms with it, she won’t give you a hard time anymore.” I nodded seriously. But I saw Evelyn’s skirt flashing past the door. Evelyn was eavesdropping outside the door! I blinked and looked carefully at the door again, thinking I must have seen wrong. The door had always been open. If Evelyn wanted to listen, she could have just come in and joined the conversation. Why hide outside? Besides, Richard and I were only talking about work. What was worth eavesdropping on? I quickly put this matter out of my mind. A month later, accompanied by the housekeeper, I went to the hospital to remove the cast from my foot.

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In my past life, I was in excruciating pain giving birth, yet my husband had the nerve to make a fuss about the doctor being male? After being reborn, I kicked Jake right in his manhood. Then I called 911. This time, he’d never be able to have children again. The day I went into the operating room to give birth, my husband Jake started causing a scene because the surgeon was male. The nurse tried to explain urgently: “Sir, your wife’s condition is critical. We need to operate immediately, or both mother and child could die. All our female surgeons are busy with other operations right now.” Jake ignored her and started beating up the male doctor: “You pervert! No one but me is allowed to see my wife’s body!” My clothes were soaked with sweat from the pain. I struggled to speak: “Honey, please let them do the surgery. I can’t hold on much longer.” Jake’s eyes were bloodshot: “I never expected you to be such an immoral woman. Let me make this clear – if you let another man see you, I won’t accept you anymore.” Hearing this, I felt a surge of anger, then everything went black. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to when Jake and I first got together. Even seeing Jake in front of me, it still felt surreal. Jake and I started dating in our freshman year of college. I was actually the one who pursued him. To be honest, Jake was average looking, average height, and didn’t have much going for him. But back then, I was drawn to his arrogant attitude. I ignored all the better guys chasing me and went after him instead. Blinded by love, I gave up my life as a rich girl to struggle alongside him, eating nothing but plain bread every day. I even hid my wealthy background to avoid hurting his pride. I thought I was being so noble, unlike those materialistic girls. Looking back now, I just want to slap myself! Jake noticed me staring at him and frowned: “Rachel, can you stop staring at men all the time? It makes you look loose and improper.” Hearing those familiar words, I felt a surge of anger. In my past life, I was brainless enough to let him manipulate me like that. But I’ve already died once – why would I listen to his bullshit again? To hell with being “loose”! I frowned back at him: “Jake, can you stop calling a girl loose all the time? It makes you sound like a total jerk!” Jake’s expression darkened. From when I first started chasing him until now, I had never talked back to him once. He came from a rural area, but his mindset was still backwards and chauvinistic. Jake was clearly angry, and started lecturing me again: “Rachel, I’m with you because I thought you were different from those sluts who show off their bodies. A woman should know her place – be a good wife and mother. I didn’t expect you to be just like them after all.” Hah! I laughed coldly inside. He sounded so righteous, but I had caught him ogling other girls’ long legs on campus more than once. But I still apologized meekly. When his expression softened a bit as he decided to magnanimously forgive me, I seized the opportunity: “To make it up to you, let me treat you to a meal!” He nodded in agreement. Since we had only been together a short while, he had no idea about my financial situation. He probably thought I was just going to treat him to an $8 bowl of noodles in the cafeteria. But when I hailed a taxi and brought him to an upscale restaurant, he didn’t even have the courage to go inside. “This is ridiculous! Rachel, do you know how much a meal here costs? We’re just ordinary students, can’t you be more down-to-earth? Don’t expect me to pay if you can’t afford it! I’m telling you now, I absolutely won’t cover for you!” I wasn’t bothered by his words. I just put on a shocked and confused expression: “It’s not that expensive here. I eat here all the time.” Seeing his increasingly dark face, I asked innocently: “Where do you usually eat?” Jake clearly didn’t believe me and kept making sarcastic remarks. Until we went inside and a waiter greeted me warmly: “Welcome back, Miss Wilson!” I gave Jake a pitiful look: “See? I wasn’t lying to you.” I confidently led the way to a window seat. Jake was visibly uncomfortable, not knowing where to put his hands. But he still tried to maintain his usual aloof attitude. I knew that on the surface he was trying to act calm, but inside he was panicking. I handed him the menu, pretending to be eager to please: “Take a look and see what you’d like to eat.” Jake’s eyes widened at the expensive prices, but he coldly pushed the menu back to me, trying to act cool: “None of these dishes look appetizing to me.” I didn’t insist and ordered a bunch of my favorite dishes, all very strongly flavored. I knew Jake preferred bland food. In my past life, I had given up my own tastes to cater to his. This time, I absolutely wouldn’t. When the food arrived, I dug in with gusto. Jake looked displeased: “Rachel, you should ask your guest what they like instead of just ordering what you want. It’s very impolite.” “But I asked you to order and you didn’t!” Jake was speechless after being called out like that. Seeing him at a loss for words delighted me. Watching me eat so heartily, he unconsciously swallowed and sneaked glances at me while clumsily trying to cut his steak with a knife and fork. He was actually doing it correctly by imitating others, but I deliberately gave him a hesitant look. He became very uncomfortable under my gaze, probably feeling quite tormented inside. But his pride and insecurity made him lash out: “Rachel, didn’t I tell you not to stare at men? It’s slutty.” I lowered my head with a complex expression and stopped looking at him, then started enjoying my delicious meal. He must be in turmoil inside now, desperately wondering what he did wrong. Let him stew in it!

Ever since I took him to that fancy restaurant, his lectures became more and more frequent. He was always going on about being frugal, the glory of farmers, the evils of capitalism, telling me to be more considerate since my parents work hard for their money, not to waste it, to be self-reliant. In my past life, hearing such talk would make me think he was an idealistic, ambitious young man with great potential. Now I see… Hah! He was just trying to drag me down to hell with him because of his own insecurities. On the surface I acted obedient, but I still bought things so expensive even I found them pricey, and “accidentally” let him know the cost. I also often bought him things that were astronomical to him but cheap for me. Letting him struggle between disapproving of my spending and enjoying the fruits of money. While he was conflicted, I suggested introducing him to my friends. A bunch of rich playboys, notorious for their womanizing ways. Jake was very resistant at first, trying to lecture me on proper female behavior again. “Rachel, you shouldn’t interact with any men besides me. That’s what a good girl should do.” “But if you connect with them, it could be a huge boost for your future career. Don’t you want to avoid ending up like millions of other graduates, sending out resumes that disappear into a black hole?” Sure enough, I had hit Jake’s sore spot. He agreed. He even specially wore what he considered proper attire on the day we met – a suit I had bought him. He kept asking me over and over if he looked appropriate. I smirked to myself. Of course it was appropriate! But they were just a bunch of playboys. Who dresses so formally to go out and party? Moreover, did he really think it would be so easy to network with them? Sure enough, when we arrived at the club, his outfit stood out like a sore thumb. He looked around curiously, watching the beautiful women dancing nearby. I could see him trying hard to suppress the excitement in his eyes, quickening his pace as if he couldn’t wait to meet those playboys. As if through this meeting, he could instantly become successful. The door to the private room opened, and the men and women inside flocked to greet me, completely ignoring Jake. After leaving Jake hanging for a while, I finally remembered him and introduced him: “This is my boyfriend, Jake.” My friend asked curiously: “I don’t recognize this guy. Which family is he from?” Chris also chimed in sarcastically: “Who wears a suit to go clubbing?” Chris’s brother had a crush on me and pursued me for two years. He was even a top student. Seeing the girl his brother liked snatched away by someone else, Chris’s hostility towards Jake was off the charts. Jake looked at their flip flops and baggy shorts, realizing his suit really did stand out. He was used to bossing me around, and actually had the nerve to criticize me in front of everyone: “Why didn’t you remind me? You made me embarrass myself in public.” These people may be party animals, but they were still my childhood friends. Hearing him talk to me like that, Chris was the first to speak up. He contemptuously fingered Jake’s suit: “Bro, you’d embarrass yourself wearing this even to a formal event. What kind of trash suit is this?” Everyone except Jake burst out laughing, while I tried hard to hold back my own laughter. Jake immediately retorted: “Do you know how much this suit cost? Two hundred dollars!” “Bahahaha!” This set off another round of laughter. Especially Chris, who was laughing so hard he could barely breathe, as if he’d heard the funniest joke ever. For these rich kids, custom tailored suits were the norm. A $200 suit wasn’t even fit to leave the house in. Jake still didn’t understand, thinking they didn’t believe him. He kept explaining: “This suit really was $200! I still have the receipt! Rachel, tell them!” Jake kept pushing me urgently. I finally spoke up: “This suit cost me $200 when I bought it for him.” Chris patted my shoulder. I immediately felt Jake’s murderous glare. Of course, it was directed at me. He wouldn’t dare look at Chris that way. “Rachel, even if you’re keeping a boy toy, you can’t be this stingy. Only $200?” I sighed wistfully: “I’ve been a bit short on cash lately.” My girlfriend looked at Jake with disdain: “What’s the point of a man who can’t even support his woman?” Chris suddenly put his arm around Jake’s neck, trying to pull him onto the couch. Jake’s body visibly stiffened. Seeing Jake uncooperative, Chris slapped him on the head, knocking Jake’s glasses to the floor. Chris said mockingly: “So sorry! I’m used to smacking my lackeys around. You look so much like my bootlicker I did it without thinking.” Then Chris asked me with a cheeky grin: “You’re not mad at me, right Rachel?” “Chris, you’ve gone too far!” That’s what I said, but anyone who knew me could tell I wasn’t actually angry. I pulled Jake away to leave.

At the entrance, Jake exploded at me: “Rachel, look at the kind of friends you have! No class at all! Why didn’t you dodge when that guy touched your shoulder earlier? Do you enjoy physical contact with other men that much? And why did you tell them I bought this suit? Were you happy to see me humiliated?” I said tearfully: “But you have to suffer to succeed. Don’t you want to live that carefree lifestyle? Don’t you want to stay and develop your career in this big city? Don’t you want to make it big? If you network well with them and use their resources, you could become hugely successful!” Jake still frowned: “But why did you buy me such a cheap suit?” I wanted to vomit. He got a free suit without spending a cent and should count himself lucky. Did he really expect a suit worth tens of thousands? But I still pretended to be wronged: “My parents don’t approve of us being together, so they cut off my allowance. I wanted to use my connections to help your future career. If you use my network well, becoming a millionaire won’t be a problem in the future.” Jake’s eyes lit up, clearly very tempted. But he still put on an act: “Rachel, these resources are wasted on you anyway since you don’t have the ability to use them. You focus on building connections for me. When I make it big in the future, I’ll definitely take good care of you.” Oh, trying to manipulate me again? Fine, I’ll play along since you’re trying so hard! I said regretfully: “Jake, you’re so talented. It’s a shame you weren’t born into a good family. Unlike me – I have no real skills but was lucky to be born rich.” The jealousy and resentment in Jake’s eyes were about to come alive and spurt out. This was the effect I wanted. The higher I build him up, the harder he’ll fall. A day later, my parents came to campus in a Rolls-Royce to find Jake. Meanwhile, I was out shopping for luxury goods with my girlfriends, completely unaware of this. By the time I found out, Jake had already angrily called me to come back immediately. Why not just tell me on the phone? Because he’s too cheap to pay for the call. I agreed to come back soon, but actually continued shopping. Less than a minute later, my mom called. I had a headache. Why didn’t I think of this? Letting those people know I had a boyfriend meant my parents would find out too. “Rachel, yesterday Chris told me you have a boyfriend. I went to see him today – he’s no good, his ambition is written all over his face. I offered him $100,000 to leave you, and he had the nerve to say it wasn’t enough!” My mom ranted angrily for a long time. As I listened, I started crying. In my past life when I married Jake, how did she ever convince herself to accept it? I comforted her: “Mom, don’t worry. I’m not actually in love with him.” “Then why did you…” “Mom, don’t ask. I promise I won’t fall for him. Trust me.” Hearing that, my mom stopped questioning and just reminded me not to let that guy take advantage of me. It was evening by the time I leisurely returned. “What took you so long? Don’t you know I had something urgent to discuss?” What a henpecked man. How was I so blind as to fall for him in my past life? Now that he had seen a glimpse of high society and understood my family’s wealth, his greedy nature definitely wouldn’t let go of such a big piece of meat. It was time to flip our positions! I sat down and crossed my legs, seeming a bit indifferent: “Are you the only one allowed to have things to do? Am I not allowed to be busy?” Jake’s tone was full of sarcasm: “What could you possibly be busy with?” “My mom said she’s buying me a Mercedes and told me to go pick one out.” “What a waste to buy it for you.”

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I’ve always wondered if professional figure models experience physical reactions during their work. My wife’s experience taught me that it can happen, but they have special techniques to manage it. My name is James Wilson. Despite my average looks, I managed to marry a beautiful model! The first time I saw my wife was when she was working as a car show model. Her long legs in black stockings immediately caught my eye. My gaze traveled up her short skirt, which barely contained her shapely behind, making me swallow hard. Further up was her slim waist and her chest straining against the thin straps of her top. Suddenly, she bent down, covering her chest with her hand, and flashed me a sweet smile. In that instant, my heart melted! With sheer persistence and three months of relentless pursuit, I finally won her over. In my mind, a wife as beautiful as her shouldn’t be on display for others to see, so I persuaded her to change jobs. She understood my jealousy and quickly resigned after we got married. But on the third day after she quit, I suddenly received several photos in my email. “Look how wild your wife really is!” the message read. When I opened them, the photos were dimly lit. They showed a woman with a curvaceous figure, her body covered in body paint, swaying seductively on stage. But something seemed off about her state. Her eyes were unfocused, her legs were pressed together, and her hands were roaming over sensitive parts of her body. It didn’t look like she was walking a runway; it looked more like she was in heat! The photos were like a flipbook, showing a sequence of events. Suddenly, a man appeared and gave her bottom a hard slap, leaving a clear handprint. Seeing this, my blood instantly rushed to my head! Was that my wife?! Besides the familiar figure, there was a birthmark on her rear that I would never mistake! My whole body trembled, my teeth clenched, and the veins in my hands bulged as I nearly crushed my phone. What the hell was going on? Who sent these photos? Were they trying to blackmail me, or just mess with my head? I tried asking, and the sender quickly replied: “Nude models always release their tension before going on stage to avoid physiological reactions. They drain every last bit of desire! Your wife was really wild on stage today! What’s wrong, did you two have an unsatisfying night?” Nude model? My first instinct was to curse back. My wife was just a regular model, and she had already quit. She wasn’t that kind of woman! But just as I had typed out a long angry response, I suddenly remembered what happened last night. Last night, my wife had indeed called me, telling me to wash up and wait for her in bed. But the project I was responsible for suddenly had issues, and I worked overtime until late at night. When I got home, she was still very proactive, but I had neither the mood nor the energy to do anything with her… Soon after, I received another email. “Your wife has another show tomorrow. She’ll definitely have needs tonight, so perform well!” After that, no matter how many emails I sent, the sender didn’t reply. With a complicated mood, I left work early and waited for her at home. I had even downloaded the photos, ready to confront Olivia. “Honey, come give me a massage. I’m exhausted…” Olivia complained as soon as she entered the door. She kicked off her high heels, sat on the couch, and put her legs on my lap. Looking at those round thighs wrapped in black stockings, I couldn’t help but think of the content in the photos. I pushed her away without any tenderness. Olivia pouted, looking innocent and wronged. “Honey, what’s wrong? Didn’t I listen to you and quit my job? I went to several job interviews today, my legs are so tired!” I stared at her intently: “You really went for interviews?” Olivia stretched lazily, revealing a strip of her flat, white belly: “Why would I lie to you? Hurry up and massage my legs, I’m so tired. I want to go to bed early tonight…” As she spoke, she yawned. Seeing her exhausted face, which didn’t seem fake, I began to have doubts. Did I get it wrong? I took a deep breath and reached into her clothes, but she slapped my hand away. “Stop it, I’m really too tired! If you want to do it, wait until tomorrow!” She must have been really exhausted because after I massaged her legs for a bit, she started snoring lightly. I gritted my teeth and, following her thigh, gently lifted her skirt…

I lifted the skirt and looked carefully. There was no handprint! At that moment, I was completely relieved. The person who sent the email was indeed just trying to mess with me! I even took out the photos and compared them again, but unfortunately, the photos were too blurry, and the model was covered in body paint, making it impossible to see her face clearly. I carried my wife back to the bedroom to sleep, then sat on the couch and chain-smoked several cigarettes. First, I couldn’t doubt my wife because of a few blurry photos. It wasn’t easy to marry such a beautiful wife. Once there’s a crisis of trust, the cracks in our relationship would be irreparable. Secondly, even if the model in the photos was really Olivia… It must have happened before she met me! At least since we’ve been together, she’s been completely open with me and obediently quit her job as I asked. Although I felt a bit uneasy, who doesn’t have a past? As long as she’s willing to settle down and live a good life with me, I’m willing to accept everything about her. I took a deep breath and stubbed out my cigarette. When that bastard who sent the email asks for money and reveals their true colors, I’ll immediately report them to the police and drag them out! At this moment, my phone chimed with another email. “So, was your wife very proactive last night?” Seeing the new email, I angrily replied. “Stop messing with me! How much money do you want?” This time, the other person took a long time to reply. “Haha, there are still good people in this world, helping to relieve your wife’s pressure and even giving you a green hat to wear! Here’s the address for tomorrow’s show. I invite you to watch the good show!” After this, the email sender disappeared again, as if into thin air. This feeling was particularly torturous. If they had really made demands, I would have felt more at ease. This neither-here-nor-there situation was just deliberately keeping me on edge, wasn’t it? With an uneasy heart, I didn’t sleep well all night. The next morning, when my wife got up to go out, I was still in a daze. “Where are you going for an interview today?” “Ocean View Tower!” she said as she applied her lipstick and stepped into her high heels. I suddenly woke up. Wasn’t this the address for the show mentioned in the email? I immediately got up, not bothering to wash up, put on a baseball cap, sunglasses, and a mask, and hurriedly followed her. But as soon as I left the community, I lost sight of her. “Ocean View Tower!” I didn’t dare to drive my own car, so I took a taxi there. I found a small company according to the address. There were indeed many people queuing at the entrance, but they were mostly men. I didn’t see my wife at all. I gave a cigarette to the security guard at the door. “What positions is your company recruiting for? There are so many people. Where are the women queuing? Why are there only men?” The security guard rolled his eyes at me. “They’re all men, what are you pretending for? If you want to see women, just queue up obediently. The show is about to start! Pay the fee first, $188!” My brain suddenly went blank, and I stood there stunned. “Show? What show?” The security guard frowned: “Are you here for an interview? Sorry, you don’t meet our company’s requirements. Please leave!” As he spoke, he forcefully pushed me out. Another security guard also walked over quickly, seemingly afraid I would cause trouble. At this moment, I really felt my blood freeze, my mind went blank. But soon, I came to my senses and squeezed out a smile. “Brother, don’t be hasty! I’m here to see the nude models. I was just a bit excited earlier…” Hearing the words “nude models” and seeing me take out several bills and stuff them into his hand, the security guard’s expression improved a bit. “First time watching the show, huh? Don’t know the rules! Hurry up and pay!” After transferring the money on my phone, my mind was in a mess as I followed the queue into this so-called company. After several twists and turns, we entered a large hall. Below the T-stage, there were at least a hundred seats, all filled with men. Suddenly, the lights dimmed. Amidst the noise, a group of women wearing Japanese fox masks walked onto the stage with cat-like steps. They were only covered by a thin veil, which slowly slid off as they moved their bodies. I immediately spotted that familiar figure! I knew every inch of Olivia’s skin all too well. She really was doing nude modeling!

“Whoosh!” I suddenly stood up, clenching my fists. I wanted to rush onto the stage immediately, tear off Olivia’s mask, and confront her! Why did she lie to me? But as soon as I stood up, several nearby security guards fixed their eyes on me, their rubber batons at the ready. A man next to me grabbed my arm. “Bro, calm down. There’ll be a chance to go on stage later! If you rush up now, security will kick you out immediately!” I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. Rushing up now would definitely get me stopped, and I wouldn’t be able to get any substantial evidence to prove that woman was Olivia! Seeing me sit down, the security guards didn’t pursue the matter. It was then that I noticed almost all the men around me were like me, wearing hats, sunglasses, and masks, completely covering themselves. The fat guy beside me smiled and advised me. “First time here, right? Don’t be shy. The first time I watched this kind of show, I was even more eager than you! Take my advice, don’t do anything rash here, or you won’t even know how you died!” As he spoke, he took out his phone and lecherously recorded videos, commenting on each model. “Number two’s figure is so hot! Number five’s long legs are just incredible! And number eight’s body, tsk tsk…” I snatched his phone. The number eight he mentioned was Olivia! The fat guy got anxious: “What are you messing around for? What, you’ve got your eye on number eight too?” “That chick is really wild, I can’t wait! I won’t give up the chance to go on stage to you!” Suppressing my anger, I asked, “What do you mean, go on stage?” The fat guy sneered disdainfully. “You’re really a newbie. Going on stage is for body painting, of course. Do you understand art?” Before he could explain clearly, the host came out to explain a few things. He said he would select a few audience members to go on stage and personally apply various body paints to the models, calling it “artistic creation”! “What kind of art is this? It’s vulgar and degrading!” I couldn’t help but curse. The fat guy glanced at me sideways: “Then don’t fight me for number eight later!” I was so angry I almost hit the fat guy! When the host was selecting lucky audience members, I was the first to rush up, unhesitatingly choosing number eight. This was my best chance to expose Olivia! The fat guy was too slow and cursed at me from behind, calling me a hypocrite and a bastard. The host smiled and said, “I can see that all the distinguished guests present are true art lovers! But I still need to remind you again, when applying the body paint later, don’t deliberately tease the models’ sensitive areas!”

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Jade’s life turned upside down when Lucas’s first love showed up out of the blue. She packed up and flew to the States with their son in tow. Everyone said they didn’t give a damn about her. Everyone called her a useless trophy wife, running away with her tail between her legs. Until one day, when she finally stood tall and crushed them all under her heel… 0 Lucas’s first love was back in town. Back in high school, he met Ruby at a writing competition. People said she was pretty, smart, and lively, from a well-off family to boot. Young love blossomed quickly, and they even promised to go to the same college. But fate had other plans. Lucas got into Stanford, while Ruby… well, I’m not sure where she ended up. At first, I thought they broke up because of the long-distance thing. That is, until our mutual friend spilled the tea: “Jade, you won’t believe this. That girl threatened to kill herself if Lucas didn’t give up Stanford and stay with her in China!” Blackmail? Suicide threats? Giving up Stanford? I couldn’t help but chuckle. This plot seemed straight out of some cheesy online novel. Lucas and I grew up together. Our families had been business partners for three generations. When my dad’s mistress showed up and had the nerve to call my mom, she flew back to the States in a rage. That’s how I ended up at Stanford with Lucas. After years apart, he’d grown even more handsome. But maybe because we were too familiar, I never felt that spark with him. Instead, we had this unspoken understanding. Just like our parents’ relationship. I thought my mom would divorce my dad, but she didn’t. She told me, “Love and marriage are different beasts. They’ve been married for years, built trust, intertwined their companies, and established a stable social circle. It’s not something you can easily cut ties with. Besides, the fact that woman showed up herself proves how stupid and incapable she is. If your dad had any real intention of being with her, she wouldn’t have needed to do that.” “But Dad still cheated,” I said quietly, lowering my head. “You always told me, ‘Once a cheater, always a cheater.’” Mom smiled thinly. “Well, the day she claimed your dad was with her at a hot spring, he was actually with me in Hong Kong visiting your grandparents.” I was speechless. “Jade, whether you end up marrying a business partner or not, remember this: don’t let emotions cloud your judgment. Never act rashly.” “Then why did you rush off to America in such a huff?” I asked. Mom smiled again. “How else could I have convinced you to give up Barcelona and come to Stanford?” 0

I’d been played. I’d always dreamed of the romance of Barcelona, wanting to live on an estate surrounded by lavender fields. But as the sole heir to the family business, I wasn’t allowed to just laze around and enjoy life without putting in the effort. So when Ruby asked to meet, I agreed. She eagerly showed me her memories with Lucas, flaunting their matching tattoos. She was as proud as a peacock, and I could barely keep from laughing. “I’ve never seen a mistress so shameless and high-profile. Aren’t you embarrassed?” Lily, my best friend since childhood, had always been fiery and sharp-tongued. “Embarrassed?” Ruby raised an eyebrow. “We’re true love. What’s there to be embarrassed about? I’m here to make you face reality. Stop deceiving yourself and burying your head in the sand like an ostrich, pretending I don’t exist. Let me tell you, Lucas said I’m the one he loves most, cares about most, and can’t let go of. You’re just a stay-at-home wife with nothing in common with him. What’s the point of clinging to the title of Mrs. Mu? Just divorce him. I’ll make sure Lucas gives you a generous alimony. You’re still young…” SLAP! Lily’s face was red with anger as she struck Ruby. Ruby was stunned for a second, then covered her face and screamed, “How dare you hit me!” In the quiet private room, her shriek caused the well-trained waiters to peek through the curtains, asking if we needed any help. I was stunned too, not because Lily had hit her. But because Ruby was screaming like a shrew, even trying to pull Lily’s hair. And she actually said I was clinging to the title of Mrs. Mu? Me, a housewife? “Tell Lucas to come talk to me about divorce, and I’ll leave immediately,” I said, cutting off her tantrum. Ruby looked surprised. “Even now, you’re still holding on? I underestimated you!” Then she smiled again. “Fine, I’ll have Lucas come talk to you. When he does, don’t cry and beg not to divorce.” I nodded, then pulled Lily up to leave. “Hey, you haven’t paid the bill!” Ruby called out as we were leaving. I glanced at the untouched afternoon tea set priced at $399 on the table and smiled faintly. “The owner is a friend of mine. The waiter will put it on my tab. If you like it, feel free to take the leftovers home.” 0

In the days that followed, Lucas never brought up divorce. Everything seemed normal, except he sometimes came home a bit later from work. When I asked, he just said an old classmate was looking for investment in a new startup project, and he was still considering it. I told him to send me the details. Sure enough, Ruby’s name was on the list of founders. Looking at the company’s messy accounts and pitiful revenue, I shook my head. With the economy in a slump and companies cutting costs left and right, she had the nerve to try and scam money with such a shoddy company. Dream on! “What do you think?” Lucas asked. I hadn’t told him about Ruby showing up yet. Lucas and I had been married for years and had a son. We were planning for a daughter when Ruby suddenly appeared. But as my mom said, Lucas and I were more of a business alliance. Our families were deeply intertwined, childhood sweethearts with a complex relationship. Pulling one thread could unravel the whole tapestry. So I didn’t believe he would cheat, let alone divorce me. “I think we need to be cautious. You know this area better, so why don’t you handle it?” I said, nodding slightly, feeling a bit relieved. I handed him a bowl of soup I’d made specially for his weak stomach. The next day, I arrived at the company with a prepared proposal. I rarely came to the office these days due to our baby plans, so many old employees were surprised to see me, looking eager for gossip. The new employees didn’t even recognize me. Just as I reached Lucas’s office door, I heard Ruby’s familiar voice: “Lucas, please help me. This is my dream!” Lucas didn’t respond. I knocked lightly and pushed the door open. Ruby was sitting next to him on the couch. When I entered, not only did she not stand up, but she even moved closer to him. I glanced at her dress, cut so low you could almost see her underwear, then calmly placed the documents on the desk. “Am I interrupting?” “Not at all, honey. This is Ruby, the one I mentioned,” Lucas jumped up from the couch like he’d been electrocuted, quickly moving to my side to introduce us. “Ruby, this is my wife, Jade.” I caught a flash of resentment in Ruby’s eyes as she looked at Lucas with an innocent expression. “Jade is so beautiful. I can’t believe you never mentioned her.” What a joke. Who was she to deserve a mention? Besides, mentioned or not, didn’t she show up anyway? Lucas looked uncomfortable. I couldn’t help but laugh, “There’s no reason to discuss family matters with outsiders all the time.” I handed Lucas the thermos I’d brought. “I heard you have a dinner meeting tonight, so I made this specially. I have afternoon tea with Mrs. Zhou and the others, so I’ll head out first.” Years of understanding meant Lucas knew what was inside without opening it. He nodded with a smile. “Thank you for your trouble.” But Ruby wouldn’t let it go. “I’m going to that dinner with Lucas tonight. Jade, what’s this good stuff? Can I have some too?” Lucas frowned, putting the thermos on his desk. “You can’t just drink someone else’s medicine!” “Is it some folk remedy for hangovers?” Ruby pouted strategically. “I used to think those TV shows where housewives always brewed weird concoctions were just making stuff up. I didn’t expect…” She covered her mouth and laughed. But neither Lucas nor I were laughing. On the contrary, the atmosphere in the office grew tense as Lucas’s face darkened. Lucas’s grandmother was a top doctor in China. This soup was her recipe for Lucas’s weak stomach. Clearly, Ruby didn’t know this. I sighed. From the start, I felt this woman was missing something upstairs. She didn’t seem like Lucas’s type at all. But if it were anyone else, Lucas would probably be furious by now. Yet his patience with Ruby exceeded that for others. He didn’t respond, just gave Ruby a complex look. “Jade knows a lot about the food industry. Ruby, if you’re serious about this, you should talk to Jade first.” Huh? I was taken aback. I could understand Lucas not wanting to directly refuse Ruby’s shabby company’s financing. But what was this about the food industry? Wasn’t Ruby’s company’s main product some kind of couples’ app according to the documents? Seeing my confused expression and silence, Ruby, clearly missing a few brain cells, started talking flippantly. “Lucas, you don’t really think Jade knows about the food industry just because she spends her days having tea and meals with friends, do you? There’s quite a difference. Besides, I want to open a cat café. The main customers are white-collar workers and students…” She looked at me challengingly as she spoke. “We can discuss business matters ourselves. I won’t keep Jade from her shopping and afternoon tea!” I was speechless. Was Ruby putting on an act? Even if she’d done the bare minimum of research, she couldn’t be this stupid! Me, the Young Miss of the Jones family, with a PhD in Economics from Stanford Business School, only good for shopping and drinking tea? Did she know how much it cost for me to give one lecture? Looking at her smug expression, even showing disdain and contempt towards me, I was sure she didn’t know. Even if she knew I graduated from Stanford, she’d probably stubbornly believe my degree was fake or bought. Lucas was clearly struggling to keep his composure. I could see he was holding back. But I didn’t understand why he was holding back. Was it because she was his first love, and he couldn’t bear to hurt her? “I have something to attend to later. Ruby, just do as I said. For the project follow-up, you can discuss with Jade,” he said, picking up his constantly ringing phone and quickly walking out. As the office door closed, only Ruby and I were left in the room. With Lucas gone, she didn’t need to keep up the act. She looked at me coldly. “You’re really patient, aren’t you? Running to the company, bringing soup, showing concern… all to win him back. But you saw it too. We’re business partners who can support each other, progressing side by side. And you? You can make soup? Any housekeeper can do that. Other than that, what can you do besides shopping, drinking tea, and spending money?” “I can discuss your project with you!” I pointed at the documents on the desk, adding with a smile, “That’s what Lucas said.” “Hah!” She sneered, her eyes full of contempt. “You don’t really believe that, do you? Lucas was just being polite, saving face for you. He’s afraid you’ll accuse us of transferring your marital assets this way. You think he respects you? He’s worried you’ll make a scene at the company and cause trouble for him!” I looked at her like she was an idiot. Putting aside whatever Lucas had done to give her such confidence. Even if it were true, how could she so casually discuss transferring assets with me? Was something missing in her brain? My silence made Ruby even more smug. She continued, “Lucas’s kindness to me isn’t just this. You heard it too, he’s taking me to that important dinner tonight. And he said before me, he never took any other woman. Do you know what that means? It means I’m the most important, the only woman in his heart. You’ve been married to him for so long, and he’s never taken you. How pitiful…” She stared at me intently. “You must feel wronged, right? Go ahead and cry if you want. It’s okay. Actually, failing in love or marriage isn’t a big deal. You’re not bad-looking, and even if your family background isn’t great, Lucas will give you enough money to live comfortably. You should let go when it’s time. Otherwise, if things get too ugly, be careful you might not even get alimony!” I finally couldn’t hold back anymore. I burst out laughing. Not just at her bizarre logic. But because she never understood that I didn’t care about intangible things like love. What I cared about were tangible things that kept the power in my hands. Like career, money, power, and marriage. Like the fact that Lucas and I had a child. And like the fact that I held the power of life and death over her project. I told her coldly not to daydream. We wouldn’t invest in either her bug-ridden app or her cat café. But Ruby was full of confidence. “Jade, use your brain. The fact that I can be here, that Lucas dared to mention this to you, proves he values it. He will definitely agree.” I watched her sway out of the room, then opened the office window. The heavy perfume scent was blown away by the wind, along with my unwavering certainty. That night, I didn’t sleep, waiting for Lucas to come home instead. At four in the morning, a drunk Lucas stumbled through the door. Our live-in housekeeper, Mrs. Wang, grumbled as she helped him to the bedroom. The room was instantly filled with the strong smell of alcohol and the pungent perfume from the office earlier. It was Dior J’adore, a fragrance I never used. “Jade, I’ll go make Lucas some hangover soup,” Mrs. Wang said, noticing my displeased expression and quickly leaving after setting Lucas down. “Honey,” Lucas slurred. “Mm. Sit up, I need to talk to you,” I said, pushing away his arms as he tried to hug me. “That Ruby came to see me before. She said you two were in love and told me to divorce you.” Lucas’s arm noticeably stiffened. He mumbled incoherently, face down on the bed, repeating over and over, “Jade, honey, I love you.” Then, loud snores filled the room, and my heart sank a little. I knew he was faking it, and I also knew you could never wake someone pretending to be asleep. But he couldn’t keep sleeping forever. I planned to have a good talk with Lucas when he woke up. But I ended up sleeping until late morning, and Lucas had already left for a business trip. Worse still, Mrs. Wang came to tell me that our son, Ethan, seemed to have a fever. 0

I quickly called the driver to take Mrs. Wang and me to the hospital. Thankfully, it wasn’t flu season, and the private hospital wasn’t busy. The admission process was quick too. I stayed by Ethan’s side until he fell asleep, then left him with Mrs. Wang and went to the small living room in the suite to eat something. By now, Lily was furious, slamming the table in righteous anger. “Jade, I’m telling you, Lucas must be involved with that woman. Call him right now. Forget about business. At a time like this, make him come back. I want to see what’s more important to him – money or you and the child?” “There’s no comparison,” I shook my head. Unlike her lack of composure, I was heartbroken but trying to stay rational. “There’s no rush for these couple of days. He can’t keep avoiding it forever.” “You… but Ethan is sick!” Lily exclaimed. “Ethan’s illness is for doctors to treat. Lucas isn’t a doctor,” I replied. “You!” Lily was fuming. “You’re just too good to Lucas. You’ve spoiled him!” “Is that so?” I smiled. I wasn’t doing this for him. I was doing it for our child and myself. I didn’t want to tear everything apart without solid evidence, only to end up labeled as a shrew and become a laughingstock for Ruby and other ill-intentioned people. It would leave me in a passive and awkward position. “It’s not good? He might have gone on this business trip with that woman!” Lily glared at me, frustrated. “That’s not necessarily true,” I said, finishing the last bite of cake and pointing out the window. “Look, she’s here.” “What?” Lily, still angry, yanked open the hospital room door. Seeing Ruby walking over, she immediately started cursing, “You’re like a dog, aren’t you? Sniffing out meat and following it here!” It’s no wonder she said that. Ruby’s intel was remarkably quick. Even my parents, who were playing tourist at a nearby attraction, hadn’t arrived yet, but she was already here. “I heard Ethan was sick, and Lucas wasn’t around, so I came to check on him. I even brought a gift!” Ruby said, unfazed by Lily’s outburst. She placed a gift box containing a drone on the table, then looked at me. “Jade, did you not sleep well last night? You’ve got dark circles under your eyes.” She smiled. “Is it because Lucas told you he agreed to invest in my cat café?” “What?” I had been indifferent until now. But this statement truly surprised me. However, I maintained my composure. “Is that so? He didn’t tell me. But any decision he makes still needs my approval as a company shareholder.” I pushed the gift on the table back to her. “Take it back. My son doesn’t need anything from you.” “Oh?” Ruby feigned shock, smiling at me. “But I saw he quite liked everything. Those blue and white shoes last month, that pair of overalls, and the Lego set Lucas brought home a few days ago… you don’t know? I helped Lucas pick all of those.” With that one sentence, she completely shattered my psychological defenses! Instantly, I felt my blood boiling. If it was just about the investment earlier, I could still stay calm. But now, I absolutely couldn’t tolerate this! All thoughts of good manners went out the window. This was my son, who I carried for ten months and gave birth to with great difficulty. Who was she to interfere? How dare she try to get involved! I was shaking with anger, grabbed the box on the table, and hurled it at Ruby!

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I broke up with my boyfriend of three years. Everyone thought I’d be the first to apologize this time. That is, until I posted my brand new marriage certificate on Instagram. He showed up at my door, crying and begging me to come back. “Lily, haven’t you had enough of this drama?” Jack, my boyfriend – or rather, ex-boyfriend – sat on the couch, his face a mask of impatience. I looked at his irritated expression, a cold smirk playing on my lips. I had caught him red-handed, dancing intimately with his childhood sweetheart at a bar. Yet he had the audacity to accuse me of making a fuss over nothing. Fine, I thought. If he wanted drama, I’d give him a show. He was nothing but a philandering dog, and I was sick of him! “I’ve told you, Rose and I are just friends. You’ve already embarrassed me in front of my friends. What more do you want?” he said. “Whatever. Think what you like,” I replied. His phone screen lit up, interrupting his tirade of accusations and complaints. I watched him get up and head to the bathroom. I followed quietly, and sure enough, Rose’s coy voice drifted out, “Jack, she’s not giving you a hard time, is she?” “Of course not,” Jack replied, his voice unusually gentle and patient – a tone he never used with me. I listened to Rose’s giggles floating out of the bathroom as I started packing my things. Damn it, what a pair of cheaters. As if I’d ever want him back! I sent Jack a breakup text and blocked him. The conversation in the bathroom paused for a couple of seconds before resuming as if nothing had happened. Huh, he always acted so confident around me. I couldn’t blame him entirely. After all, I had been madly in love with him since freshman year, willingly playing the role of his doormat. All those years of washing his sports gear, buying him drinks and gifts – it was like pouring water into the Pacific Ocean. Now, even when I suggested breaking up, he seemed completely indifferent. The laughter continued in the bathroom as I quietly left the apartment with my suitcase, finally escaping this prison. As soon as I got in my car, my phone exploded with notifications from the group chat. Jack’s buddies were tagging me relentlessly. “Lily, playing the runaway game again?” “How many times has this been now?” “If you ask me, you should grow a backbone. If you’re leaving, don’t come crawling back to Jack. Save yourself from another dramatic exit.” “Ha! As if she could ever let go of Jack.” Their mocking laughter hit me like a slap in the face. I stared at the screen coldly, quickly typing out a reply, “As you and Jack wish, we’re done for good. Goodbye.” I left the group immediately after sending the message. Jack’s friends had created this group chat specifically to mock me, though they had their own separate group for real communication. Even though I knew their intentions, I had pathetically joined the group just to catch a glimpse of Jack’s occasional messages. Later, they added Rose to the group, and Jack’s messages became more frequent. I found myself consumed by jealousy, desperately searching for any hint that he might love me in his messages. Sadly, there were none. Instead, his chats with Rose grew increasingly flirtatious, with no regard for my feelings whatsoever. As my best friend would say, I had become obsessed, poisoned by my feelings for Jack. Looking back now, I realize how ridiculous I had been. Jack didn’t love me. He was never gentle or caring towards me. He certainly never showed any concern or looked after me. He only called me when he needed something, and when he didn’t, he couldn’t even be bothered to say my name. What did I ever see in such a horrible guy? Did I admire his ability to eat, poop, and cause trouble?

I had a small, rundown apartment in the suburbs that my parents had left me. I hadn’t lived there for years, but now it was my only refuge. I spent three hours cleaning every nook and cranny until I was nearly exhausted. After a shower, I noticed a missed call on my phone. My heart skipped a beat. Could it be Jack? But when I unlocked the screen, I saw it was from my best friend, Samantha. I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly at myself. Old habits die hard, I guess. I was still foolishly hoping for his call, while he was probably having a great time with Rose. I was about to call Samantha back when her call came through again. “Lily, did you have another fight with Jack? Why bother? You’ll end up crawling back to him anyway, crying your eyes out.” Samantha’s words cut deep. Standing by the window, I shivered in the cold breeze. “It’s really over this time. We won’t be getting back together.” Samantha hesitated for a moment. “Really? What if he gets down on his knees and begs you to take him back?” I let out a cold laugh. “I’m not a glutton for punishment. It’s been five years. I’ve finally woken up.” “I don’t believe you!” Samantha exclaimed, then quickly changed the subject. “Unless… you come to our high school reunion tomorrow.” I was puzzled. “…” What did that have to do with anything? Samantha scoffed. “I knew you weren’t serious about breaking up.” I sighed. “…Fine, I’ll be there tomorrow, dressed to the nines. Happy now?” Samantha seemed satisfied. “There’s a surprise waiting for you!” What kind of surprise could there be? I was too tired to guess. “If you keep being mysterious, I’m going to bed.” Samantha quickly spilled the beans. “Your high school crush, Mr. Gu, will be there too.” Those three words jolted me wide awake, my hand tightening around the phone. Mr. Gu was our nickname for him. His real name was Ethan Gray. He was the unattainable dream guy from our innocent high school days, the crush of most of the girls in our school. Smart, handsome, great at basketball, gentle and dignified. Samantha teased, “The whole point of this reunion is to welcome him back to the country. I heard he’s still single, and now you’re single too. Isn’t this the perfect opportunity?” I went to the bathroom and looked at my haggard reflection in the mirror, laughing bitterly. “That’s all in the past.” I hung up and silently applied a face mask.

I was woken up by the glaring sunlight – I had forgotten to close the curtains last night. Looking at my phone, I saw it was already past 10 AM. I stretched my sleep-softened limbs, realizing it had been ages since I’d slept so well. Jack liked to stay up late, often going out drinking with his friends. I would often wake up in the middle of the night to pick him up when he was drunk, take care of him, and then go to work exhausted the next day, missing out on several promotions. “From today on, everything stays in the past. It’s time for a fresh start,” I muttered to myself, my lips curving into a smile. I made myself a simple breakfast of egg noodles in my tiny kitchen. The aroma was inviting, and paired with a glass of milk, I thought I might even regain some of my complexion. Life without Jack wasn’t as bad as I had imagined. To keep myself from overthinking, I went to the nearby supermarket to stock up my fridge. From now on, I’d pack my own lunch for work and wouldn’t have to envy my colleagues anymore. As I passed by a cosmetics store, a sales assistant approached me. “Miss, we have a special offer today. You get a free face mask with every $20 purchase.” I found myself staring at the bold red lipstick on the assistant’s lips. I used to be that vibrant and lively too, but Jack said he preferred me with light makeup, so I stopped buying dark lipsticks. “Miss, this color would look great on your fair skin,” the assistant said enthusiastically. Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I couldn’t help but smile. Seeing that I had bought quite a lot, the assistant offered to do my makeup. I nodded. Since I was already looking good, why not go all out? Instead of rushing to the supermarket, I decided to do some shopping. I bought a white suit, a silk dress to wear underneath, and some knee-high boots. Then I got my long hair cut short and dyed it a light brown with soft waves. It looked pretty good. Today’s shopping spree cost me three months’ salary. They say retail therapy is the best cure for a broken heart. … When Samantha saw me at the hotel entrance, she was shocked and circled around me several times. “Wow, Lily! I expected to see a dejected divorcee, not this! If I had known breaking up would make you look this good, I would have told you to dump that jerk ages ago!” I felt a bit smug. “Not bad, right?” Samantha happily linked her arm with mine and we walked into the private room, grinning. This hotel was one of the top luxury hotels in the city. Jack and I had dined here before. The food was incredibly expensive and required advance reservations. I felt a bit nervous. “Samantha, if we need to split the bill tonight, could you cover for me first? I’ll pay you back when I get my paycheck.” If I had known we were eating here, I would have bought one less outfit. Samantha chuckled. “You don’t know? This hotel belongs to the Gu family. How else do you think our class monitor could book a private room here?” Ethan Gray entered the room surrounded by classmates. He was wearing a light-colored suit with a black knit sweater underneath, and gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. Well, now I knew what “gentle and refined” looked like in the flesh. Five years had matured him, his features more chiseled and defined. Just as I looked away, our class monitor joked, “Lily, you’ve become even prettier after all these years. Ethan was just asking if you were coming tonight.” I was startled and looked at Ethan in surprise. Although we had been desk mates in high school, we rarely spoke. He was the golden boy, and I was just an ordinary classmate. Ethan greeted me with a gentle smile. “It’s been a long time, Lily.” His voice was pleasant, deep with a hint of warmth. My heart fluttered a bit, and I politely nodded with a smile. Samantha excitedly squeezed my hand and whispered, “Hey, I think you two have a chance.” Yeah, right. I knew my place. It was okay to have a crush, but showing it would be impolite. I chose a seat near the door, keeping my distance from the group of successful people. Just then, Ethan took a seat too, just two seats away from me.

It had been several years since our last high school reunion, and today was particularly lively. The last to arrive was the class hottie. Despite the cold weather, she wore a sequined gown with a white fur coat and dramatic earrings, looking like she had just stepped off a runway. She had the looks to pull it off, now being a minor internet celebrity. “Wow, our class beauty actually found time to join our reunion!” Several classmates exclaimed excitedly. Quite a few guys had crushed on her back in the day. Her face, now with some “enhancements”, looked even more delicate than before. Her curvaceous figure made even the women’s hearts race. Almost all the guys at the table stood up to greet her, except for Ethan, who remained seated quietly. After greeting everyone, the class hottie walked straight to the seat next to Ethan and said with a smile, “Let’s switch seats, shall we?” The classmate sitting next to Ethan happily gave up his seat. Everyone laughed and teased, but it was nothing new. Everyone knew the class hottie had a thing for Ethan. Ethan just nodded slightly in greeting. the class hottie asked, “Ethan, are you planning to develop your career back home now?” Ethan smiled lightly. “Yes, I’ll be relying on everyone’s help from now on.” Everyone quickly said they wouldn’t dare, knowing that the combined net worth of everyone else in the room probably wouldn’t match even a fraction of his. As the waiters started serving the food, the class hottie downed a glass of red wine and asked with a flushed face, “Ethan, I heard you’re still single. Do you think I have a chance?” Her directness shocked everyone! I was curious too, and looked up just in time to meet his gaze. Ethan took a sip of his wine and said, “I’m sorry, but I already have someone I like.”

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After graduating with his master’s degree, my boyfriend insisted on taking us to go wingsuit flying. I advised against it, explaining that it was a professional sport and not something to try lightly. My boyfriend heeded my warning. The other adventurers? Some went missing, while others lost their lives. A year later, we went abroad for our honeymoon and encountered a robbery. I was shoved in front of my husband to block a knife; his face twisted with rage: “This is all your fault! If you hadn’t stopped me, Felicity wouldn’t have died!” It dawned on me that my husband had harbored resentment for my earlier intervention, blaming me for the death of his childhood friend. When I woke up again, I heard my boyfriend’s voice, filled with excitement but tinged with a hint of fear, asking: “Vi, are we really going to participate?” “Isn’t it dangerous?” My husband’s voice echoed in my ears, making me shiver involuntarily. I touched my waist, feeling a dull pain in my abdomen. That day was sunny, and I was in line at Horizon Trust Bank with my husband, exchanging money. Suddenly, several masked robbers burst in, brandishing guns and knives. We were close to the exit and had a chance to escape, but at the last moment, I was forcefully pushed inside. The robber noticed my attempt to flee and plunged a knife into my stomach. I stared in disbelief. He stood outside, watching me from a distance, muttering to himself. We both had a chance to get away—why was he doing this to me? Perhaps the robber hadn’t anticipated that I wouldn’t be dead yet. As I lay there, clinging to life, my husband returned after the robbers left. The crowd dispersed, leaving no one to care for a stabbed victim in a foreign land. He knelt beside me; my head spun from pain as I struggled to raise my eyes and ask him: “Why, Damon…?” It had been seven years since we graduated college and got married. Our honeymoon had just begun. Why was he doing this to me? Damon caressed my face, wiping away the blood at my mouth, then suddenly pinched my cheek hard. He leaned close to my ear, his voice a mix of sorrow and fury: “This is all your fault! If you hadn’t stopped me, Felicity wouldn’t have died!” I realized he had always believed that my interference caused his childhood friend’s death. So, when he saw the chaos, he pushed me into the abyss of death without hesitation, seeking revenge for Felicity. But if I hadn’t intervened, he could have died in some unknown corner. “Darling, what are you daydreaming about?” His deep voice brought me back to reality. I felt my abdomen; there was no blood, no terrifying stab wound. I pinched the soft flesh of my inner thigh. Ouch! Sharp pain. I had truly been reborn. It was the fourth day of our camping trip at Sapphire Peak Wilderness. At that moment, Felicity announced she wanted to go wingsuit flying. The sky was bright blue, and the wind rustled the grass beneath me, creating waves that looked like a scene from a Miyazaki film. The smell of fresh grass, mingled with a hint of mist, wafted toward me, uplifting my spirits. Behind me were my boyfriend and the adventurers Felicity had brought along. I gazed into the endless sky and casually replied: “It’s your graduation trip; you get to choose.” We were all adults here; we should bear the consequences of our choices, right?

In my previous life. Damon had asked me the same thing about going wingsuit flying. Many didn’t know that Damon had a fear of heights, which I discovered only after visiting an amusement park with him. I kept silent after that, never allowing him to engage in any high-altitude activities again. One important detail was that none of the people present had much understanding of wingsuit flying; it was an extreme sport. The reason wingsuit flying had no negative reviews was simple—those who died couldn’t leave feedback. I rejected Felicity’s invitation, but she was insistent about trying, which led to us parting ways. I dragged my boyfriend to do other activities instead. In the end, Felicity and the other adventurers crashed into trees and died in the mountains. The rescue team took a long time to find their remains. My boyfriend showed no signs of resentment toward me. He continued to care for me attentively. I thought he had moved past the shadow of Felicity’s death. Little did I know he was just burying his anger, already blaming Felicity’s death on me. This time, I respected his wishes. My boyfriend glanced at me and then back at Felicity. Without much hesitation, he accepted her invitation. “Well, if everyone’s okay with it, let’s get our gear on and start,” Felicity announced, smiling at everyone. “I’m opting out of this project,” I raised my hand to signal everyone. “You’re dropping out? But we’ve already paid!” Felicity jumped in before Damon could respond. “Right, we don’t need a refund; I have a fear of heights and won’t participate.” My boyfriend’s face immediately fell; he grabbed my hand, trying to sway my decision. Seeing my boyfriend’s small gesture, Felicity’s expression darkened, though her tone remained a bit pitiful as she said: “But I heard Vi loves high-altitude activities, so I specially chose wingsuit flying. Are you saying I wasn’t accommodating enough?” “Are you looking down on us?” As she spoke, she wiped her tears, looking sadly at Damon, whose expression turned sour. I remained silent; this kind of lowly tactic was beneath me, and speaking out would only disrespect myself further. The atmosphere grew awkward. Damon, noticing my silence, stepped forward to comfort Felicity, and I watched them like a spectator at a circus. Felicity found a way to save face and brazenly took Damon’s hand, leading him outside. “Alright then, if you’re not participating, Damon, let’s go get ready,” she said. I happily pulled my boyfriend’s hand from my arm. I couldn’t stop someone eager to meet their demise. I initially thought we would enjoy the scenery, eat, drink, and take photos. Who knew Felicity was actually thinking about extreme sports? My boyfriend chimed in with enthusiasm, but he didn’t realize his own limitations as he kept pushing forward. Though it was said to be my boyfriend’s graduation trip, the choice of destination was entirely Felicity’s. Seeing my actions, my boyfriend instantly panicked. He shook off Felicity’s hand and pulled her out of the tent, laughing as he took my hand. “Vi, what’s wrong? Felicity’s just young and talks without thinking. I’ll apologize for her; we adults should rise above petty grievances.” “Let’s go relax; we still have the parachute, right?” He couldn’t go alone and couldn’t just leave me behind. After all, a freshly graduated young man couldn’t compare financially to someone like me, a wealthy heiress. He still relied on my connections and influence. If anyone saw him getting close to another girl, and if I decided to end things, he’d lose everything. Yet he seemed to revel in other girls adoring him. Previously, I was completely devoted to him, always anticipating his feelings, taking on the rejections he wanted to avoid. He was just a passive boyfriend, a trophy in my life. Now, with my eyes opened and my mind clear, the haze of love had lifted, and I refused to waste time on a thankless person. Damon tugged at my arm, his tone a bit whiny: “If you don’t go, I’ll be worried going alone. Come with me; I’ll protect you.” In the past, when he played the charm card, I’d relent and agree. Now I just wanted to say: No way! I brushed his arm off, a teasing expression on my face: “I’m not going. A bunch of inexperienced people think they can take on wingsuit flying? If you all don’t value your lives, I sure do!” Felicity’s expression twisted; she hadn’t expected me to reject so outright, and my words were so blunt. I turned toward the direction of the car to find the keys, preparing to pack up and leave. My boyfriend dashed over, gripping my shirt tightly: “Then let’s do something else, Vi! I won’t do it either.” I shot him a glance: “I’m leaving; you can play by yourself.” Having packed my things, I couldn’t find the car keys anywhere. My boyfriend wanted to help but didn’t know how. He continued to speak kindly about Felicity, trying to win me over. I tuned him out, letting his words drift from one ear to the other without registering. I ignored him, focused solely on leaving. As for why I wouldn’t break up now, it was because we were in the wilderness. He was still a grown man; if I brought it up, what if he got angry and attacked me? I couldn’t risk facing that again. The universe had given me a second chance, and it was wise to be cautious. Once I left, I’d send a “happy breakup” text. “Don’t even think about it; the car doesn’t have enough gas to leave,” Felicity’s voice called out from behind me. I turned to see her dangling a bunch of car keys, jingling them with delight. “And we drove a long way to get here. Without a map, you’ll never make it out on foot.” “You can fly out with us.” I narrowed my eyes at Felicity, whose eyes gleamed with malice. She was right; in my past life, I hadn’t left, just stubbornly refused to join in and stayed at the campsite. It wasn’t until the rescue team arrived that I learned Felicity and the others had sent a distress signal. “What are you afraid of? I remember you loved high-altitude activities; why are you backing down?” Felicity continually tried to tempt me to join her, knowing that if I didn’t go, my boyfriend probably wouldn’t either. It was crucial that if the past repeated itself, with him blaming Felicity’s death on me and finding another opportunity to kill me, this rebirth would have no purpose. The past me would never agree. But the present me is more confident. I pondered it over and decided I’d just watch them go to their deaths. “Fine, since you insist, I’ll participate.” I set down my bag and arranged my things neatly. Felicity looked pleased as she eyed Damon beside me. Damon liked me a lot; after two years of relentless pursuit, I finally agreed to date him. I never imagined he would try to kill me for Felicity. He always prioritized my wishes. But this was the kind of person who would push me in front of danger, seeking vengeance for his beloved childhood friend. Such a character was deeply biased; he blurred the lines of right and wrong, projecting his guilt and faults onto others while judging them from a moral high ground. I had once thought he was gentle; I later realized that was weakness. Rather than getting entangled, it was better to send them off to their doom. In the middle of the night, I heard soft rustling sounds from Damon’s bed as he quietly left the tent.

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