Category: English

  • The Backup Plan

    During my sophomore year of college, I sent a box of gifts to my boyfriend. He was happily video-chatting with me when he opened it. Suddenly, a roommate walking by his screen chimed in: “That stuff looks cheap. Why are you flexing that so hard?” My boyfriend turned his head and shot back playfully: “Oh, and that raggedy old little pouch you carry around isn’t a treasure? You won’t even let anyone touch it.” The next second, my ex-boyfriend’s face appeared in the camera frame. I was instantly transported back to my senior year of high school. I remembered the moment I was framed for stealing an exam answer key, losing my guaranteed college admission spot. The bad boy who had once sworn to be my ultimate protector had looked at me with impatience and said: “Do you know who her family is? Do you know who you are? Did you really have to provoke her?” 1 I froze for a second before I realized the face on the screen was Cole. I hadn’t seen him in a few years, and he looked even better than before. He didn’t need to pretend to be a broke kid in front of me anymore; he had reverted to being the rich heir, though he had shed some of his teenage arrogance and immaturity. The moment his eyes met mine through the screen, the hand holding his cigarette visibly trembled. Ash fell onto his hand. He quickly averted his gaze and let out a cold scoff: “This is it?” Liam’s face instantly darkened. “If you don’t have anything nice to say, get the hell out of the frame. My girlfriend is the best thing in the world.” “The best? Who knows if she’s just with you for your money.” Cole leaned back against his headboard, his eyes dark and unreadable. Liam turned back to the camera, flashing me a brilliant smile. “Baby, what else do you want? Anything money can buy is no problem. You know I’m loaded.” “Please, I’m begging you, let me spend some money on you.” He continued to playfully whine at the camera. I looked down at the floor, not saying a word. Cole suddenly let out a cold laugh. “Isn’t that what you’ve been waiting for this whole time? Hurry up and ask him.” Liam only had endless patience and a good temper when it came to me. Normally, he couldn’t stand anyone saying a bad word about me. He whipped around and kicked Cole’s desk. “Did the Sterling family go bankrupt? Why are you so sensitive about money?” Finally, Liam frowned and delivered the killing blow: “Or is it that time of the month for you? Why are you being so passive-aggressive to my girlfriend today?” As soon as the words left his mouth, Cole’s face turned black as thunder. His chest heaved, but he couldn’t utter a single word. He stood up, his face icy, and slammed the dorm room door behind him. Liam acted like he hadn’t noticed a thing, leaning back toward his desk and continuing our call. “I’m sorry, babe. I don’t know what’s wrong with him today. Don’t let it ruin your mood. I’ll take you to look at some apartments later.” “My family’s new development is finished. Do you want to go check it out? I specifically had them set aside the best units.” He rambled on, simultaneously watching my expression with careful observation. If anyone saw the untouchable, highly-sought-after heir of the Miller family talking to a girl like this, their jaws would probably drop. I looked up and offered him a reassuring smile. “It’s fine.” “We can talk about the apartments later. I have to get to class soon.” “Okay. Wait for me, I’ll come pick you up right now.” To be honest, when I moved to this city, I was mentally prepared to eventually run into Cole. But I never expected him to be roommates with Liam. Back when I was fighting tooth and nail to claw my way up, I always thought that if Cole saw me, I needed him to know that leaving him only made my life better. But seeing him now, I realized I felt absolutely nothing. 2 It started raining when I left my dorm. I stood under the awning, reading a research paper while waiting for Liam. “You’ve really moved up in the world, Chloe.” “Where’s Liam?” My gaze passed right through him, staring blankly into the distance. Cole suddenly reached out and pulled me under his umbrella. “Is it a crime for me to pick you up?” That single sentence yanked me from the pristine college campus right back to the damp, rundown trailer park of my youth. It was pouring rain. The power in the classroom had gone out. While the other students were celebrating getting out of school early, I was just glad I could start my delivery shift sooner and make a little extra cash. I didn’t have a choice. I was an orphan; if I needed money, I had to earn it myself. The moment I stepped out into the rain, I was instantly soaked to the bone. Terrified of getting bad ratings, I took off my own raincoat and wrapped it around the delivery box on the back of my e-bike. Before I could even feel good about the money I was going to make, the e-bike skidded and crashed heavily onto the wet pavement. My leg was badly scraped. I struggled for a long time but couldn’t manage to stand up. With no other option, I called my childhood friend, Ethan, to come get me. But the person who showed up wasn’t Ethan; it was Cole. Back then, Cole was the quintessential bad boy. Covered in cheap, clinking jewelry, he looked like a walking hardware store as he ran through the storm to reach me. “Where’s Ethan?” “Is it a crime for me to pick you up? I’m your best friend too, you know.” He helped me pick up the fallen e-bike, then scooped me up into his arms. A faint scent of antiseptic enveloped me. I clung to his back, watching the rich kid clumsily try to start the e-bike, cursing the entire time. “Chloe, are you crazy? If you need money, just tell me. Delivering food in a storm like this… aren’t you afraid of getting killed?” “If you die, Mr. Wilson is going to dramatically slit his throat in front of the whole class.” Mr. Wilson was our homeroom teacher. He had always looked out for me. I lay against his back, feeling his body heat. Maybe I just found him annoying, or maybe my heart was beating too fast and scrambling my brain, but I reached out and covered his mouth. “Shut up.” It was instantly quiet, leaving only the sound of the relentless rain and the pounding of a heartbeat. His warm breath hit my hand, making my ears turn bright red. I was always someone who prioritized efficiency, but suddenly, I wished time would just stop for a while. But now. Now, I wished time would fast-forward, so I could escape having to interact with him. “Chloe, I’m here.” Liam arrived, and I practically sprinted toward him. He wrapped me in a tight hug before finally looking at Cole. Cole stood in the rain, looking inexplicably lonely. He gripped a small, embroidered pouch in his hand, his mouth opening and closing. Liam’s gaze swept over him, and the grip on my hand tightened slightly. “Let’s go.” But Cole called out to him. “Do you know who gave me this pouch?” My body went a little stiff. Liam, however, turned around with a smile. “Does it matter who gave it to you?” “Aren’t you just the guy who got dumped and is now desperately clinging to some raggedy pouch to reminisce?” Cole didn’t get angry. “But when she gave it to me, she put a good luck charm inside. She prayed for it herself.” “Liam, has your girlfriend ever given you anything like that?” The two men stared at each other in tense silence. Liam suddenly grabbed my arm, revealing the beaded bracelet on my wrist. “I couldn’t bear to make my girlfriend do that kind of work, so I prayed for this one for her.” Cole’s pupils contracted violently. He gripped the pouch so tightly it crumpled. He opened his mouth, then closed it. I guessed he wanted to ask. He wanted to ask if the scar on my wrist had finally healed. 3 Years ago, the day I found out Cole was in the hospital after a car crash, I learned what it truly felt like to be scared out of my mind. Ethan brought me to the hospital, but I could only press my face against the glass window of the ICU. Cole was lying there, surrounded by beeping monitors, hooked up to a dozen tubes. The doctor was giving the Sterling family an update. “The patient’s condition is extremely critical. Whether he wakes up or not depends entirely on tonight and tomorrow. If he doesn’t wake up by tomorrow…” “The family needs to prepare for the worst.” I covered my mouth, slowly sliding down the wall until I hit the floor. In that moment, staring at the sterile white walls, I thought about praying to a higher power for the first time in my life. For the first eighteen years of my life, I had been a staunch atheist. But this time, I wanted to beg the heavens, just to let me be lucky this one time. Let him live. I stayed outside his hospital room all night. The next day, Ethan took me to a famous local temple. It was said to be the most effective temple in the area, located at the very top of a seemingly endless mountain. Even though there was a cable car, barely anyone took it. People believed that climbing the mountain path on foot showed true sincerity. And only then would the heavens grant your wish. The mountain path was brutal. Ethan accompanied me quietly. I didn’t dare stop or rest for a single second. By the time we reached the top, I was drenched in sweat. The moment I knelt before the altar, I offered up all the devotion I possessed. “Please, please let Cole wake up.” A monk standing nearby handed me a good luck charm, offering a gentle smile. “Though the path is fraught with hardship, the end will bring fulfillment.” I joyfully placed the charm inside the embroidered pouch I had made. On the way down the mountain, I practically ran the entire way. As a result, joy turned to disaster. I tripped and fell, tearing a deep gash into my arm. Right at that moment, the hospital called to say Cole had woken up. Clutching the pouch, crying and laughing simultaneously, I completely ignored my bleeding wrist and rushed back to the hospital. Cole had just woken from his coma and was still on a ventilator. His hands were moving frantically. I thought he was in pain and was about to call the doctor. But when the doctor arrived, Cole just pointed a weak finger at my wrist. “Hurts…” “Worry about yourself first.” My anxiety made me snap at him like a firecracker, but he just offered a weak, good-natured smile. Later, when he was discharged from the hospital, I handed him the pouch containing the good luck charm. Because of the car crash, he had a long scar down his back. Because of him, I had a scar on my arm. “We have matching scars,” I had said. Cole had simply gripped the pouch and pulled me into his arms. “Chloe, let’s be together.” The messy, chaotic stitches on that pouch held all my secret, teenage hopes and dreams. I said yes, and we began a secret, high school romance. Back then, I truly believed that Cole and I would have a perfect, happy ending. But now, the scar on my wrist was covered by a bracelet engraved with Liam’s name. 4 After finishing an intense Calculus lecture, I felt energized and ready to go, but Liam had turned into a deflated puppy. He switched into his ‘needy’ persona, clinging to me and whining. “Babe, compared to you, I feel so stupid.” I found it endearing, ruffling his hair to comfort him. “You’re not stupid, you’re not stupid. Tell me what part you didn’t understand, I’ll explain it.” “No, let’s go get food first.” He grabbed my hand to lead me out, then stopped halfway down the hall. “I left my phone on the desk.” “I’ll go grab it. Wait here.” He sprinted off, and I leaned against the wall to fill out an application form. There was a highly coveted internship opportunity available, and the competition in our department was fierce. Even though I was ranked first in my class, I couldn’t afford to slack off. My temples started throbbing again. I instinctively reached into my bag. “Here.” A lighter and a cigarette were placed into my hand. I pulled out a piece of candy instead. “I quit.” Cole nodded, his eyes carrying an emotion I couldn’t read. “Do you always have to push yourself this hard?” He had said those exact words to me before. We had gotten into a huge fight over it. Right before the SATs, I was pushing myself to the absolute limit. To stay awake and study, I had even started smoking. I was fiercely ambitious. I had to get into a top-tier university. That was the first step toward my dream. When Ethan, acting on his mom’s orders, brought me food, he was shocked by how awful I looked. He didn’t say much, just tossed me a bottle of vitamins. “Eat this before you study.” I nodded and silently ate the food. My phone kept buzzing. It was a text from Cole. “Chloe, I miss you so much. Can I come see you?” Below the text was the address of a notoriously expensive, exclusive club. I hadn’t planned on going, but it was his birthday today, and I caved. When I walked into the private VIP room, Cole immediately pulled me into a hug. “You haven’t spent time with me in so long. Just stay with me tonight.” “I can’t. I have to be back by ten to finish practice tests. Once exams are over…” Before I could finish, a female voice cut me off. “Give it a rest. She’s a self-made academic weapon. Why are you trying to distract her?” I knew the girl who spoke. It was Cole’s childhood friend, Victoria. She looked me up and down with obvious disdain, letting out a cold scoff. “Tsk. Playing hard to get is fine, but don’t overdo it. If you play your hand wrong, you’ll be crying when it’s too late.” As soon as she finished speaking, the room erupted in laughter. Cole’s face darkened, and he smashed his glass on the floor. “If any of you motherf***ers say one more passive-aggressive thing, I swear to God.” “What my girlfriend does is none of your damn business.” He threw a massive fit, and those ‘friends’ of his never dared to say another bad word about me. He even grabbed Victoria and forced her to apologize to me. Honestly, I knew his friends looked down on me. They all thought I was only with him for his money. But I didn’t care what they thought. I only cared what Cole thought. As long as Cole believed in me and supported me, I wasn’t afraid of anything. That night, Cole ended his birthday party early and personally walked me home. “Don’t exhaust yourself. Get some sleep after you finish those practice tests.” His eyes were sparkling, but he still sounded a little sheepish when he spoke. “Can you at least say ‘Happy Birthday’ to me?” “Happy Birthday. Here’s your gift.” It was a pair of boxing gloves. They had cost me a whole month’s salary. Cole smiled so wide he couldn’t close his mouth. “I love them.” I buried my face in his jacket and took a deep breath, feeling all my exhaustion melt away. For the following weeks, he quietly took charge of bringing me three meals a day. One day, I was studying like a maniac and finally managed to carve out an hour to go see him. Instead, I overheard him complaining to Victoria. “Does she really need to push herself this hard?” “Wouldn’t it be better to just stay by my side? I can give her whatever she wants. I seriously don’t understand why she’s being so difficult.” I didn’t hear what he said to Victoria after that. I just felt a sudden, sharp ache in my chest. But back then, I convinced myself he was just worried about me. I had no idea that this was just the beginning of the end. 5 Liam walked out of the classroom with his phone, smoothly pulling me into his arms without missing a beat. “Figured out what you want to eat?” His thumbs expertly massaged my temples. “Headache again? The family doctor prescribed some herbal medicine for you. I’ll have them brew it and send it over later.” I leaned against him and gently patted his hand. “I’m fine. Don’t go through the trouble.” He smiled and leaned in to kiss me. His movements were gentle, but laced with a deep possessiveness. “You’re leaving soon for your internship. You need to focus on taking care of your health while you can.” I squeezed his hand. “Okay. Just come with me to drop off this application form first.” Cole, who had been standing in the shadows, suddenly moved. His face was dark. “You’re letting her go work in the mountains?” The smile on Liam’s face vanished completely. He shot Cole a freezing glare. “Whatever she wants to do, I support her.” “Besides, she is my girlfriend. Cole, you’re crossing the line.” … Cole stormed off with a dark expression. Liam and I went to his off-campus apartment. I knew he had definitely noticed the tension between Cole and me. He kept his head down, kissing me deeply. “Chloe, he doesn’t deserve you.” “Are you jealous?” Liam frowned, grabbing my hand as it wandered downwards. “Every single person who gets close to you makes me jealous.” “That’s why I’m going to hold onto you so tightly, and make sure I never make a single mistake.” “That way, you’ll stay with me forever and ever.” He didn’t bother hiding the possessiveness in his eyes anymore. At the height of our intimacy, I gripped the back of his neck. A faint flush appeared at the corners of Liam’s eyes. “Chloe, only ever look at me. Promise me.” “Chloe, let me stay by your side. I’ll always support you. I will never be an obstacle to anything you want to do.” I stared at him, and kissed him hard. Their breath mingling, Liam’s rhythm grew erratic, his movements accelerating. Finally, he bit down on the soft flesh of my neck, pausing. The next day in class, Cole kept turning around to look at me. Following his gaze, Liam casually reached up and stroked the red mark on my neck. 6 Right after I finished my final seminar report, someone told me Liam and Cole were fighting. By the time I ran over, the two of them were already tangled in a brawl. “What happened?” “I don’t know, it looked like Liam accidentally bumped into Cole’s embroidered pouch, and then they just started swinging.” “Stop fighting.” The people around them managed to pull Cole back. I frantically checked Liam for injuries. “Are you okay?” I was so anxious I didn’t even notice I had stepped directly on the pouch Cole had dropped. “Chloe!” He grabbed the hem of my shirt desperately. “Is he the only person you see now?” “Obviously? Who is he to me, and who are you to me? Why are you trying to start a fight with him?” The color drained from Cole’s face, inch by inch. He crouched on the ground, helplessly clutching the pouch. “Chloe, listen to me…” I dragged Liam toward the campus clinic, leaving his words behind me. “Chloe, who am I to you?” Liam leaned his head on my shoulder, his eyes rimmed with red. I knew his stubborn, needy side was acting up again. “My boyfriend.” Liam closed his eyes in deep satisfaction, looking like a cat that had just been petted exactly right. “The things you said to Cole today… he used to say those exact same things to you, didn’t he?” Liam secretly traced circles on my palm with his finger, over and over. Nothing got past him. Cole had said those exact words to me once. 7 That year, as the SATs approached, I grew increasingly anxious. I desperately needed that golden ticket to a top university. I wanted a good future, and I needed a ladder to bridge the massive gap between me and Cole. He was a trust fund baby; I was an orphaned girl with dead parents. He held all the chips, while the only card I had to play was my academic ability. My life felt like a high-wire balancing act. I was pushing myself to the absolute limit. All I saw was a top-tier university. Cole came to find me every day, but I never spoke to him for more than three minutes at a time. Finally, one day, he lost his temper. “Chloe, why do you have to push yourself so hard?! Is it for the money? How much do you need? Can’t I just give it to you?!” I stood there, my face deathly pale, slowly picking up the practice workbooks I had dropped on the floor, trying to piece together my crumbling dignity. If someone offered me that money now, I would take it without hesitation. But that’s how teenagers are. When you think you’re invincible, you’re also the easiest to destroy. Before my frustrated tears could fall, Cole pulled me into a hug and apologized. “I’m sorry, Chloe, I’m just so worried. Do you have any idea how much weight you’ve lost lately? I’m genuinely terrified. Please, I’m begging you, just take it easy on yourself.” “Stop pushing yourself so hard. I will always be your safety net.” A teenage boy’s promises look like a beautiful bouquet of flowers, but underneath, they are completely empty. And I almost fell for it, almost let myself become nothing more than fertilizer for those flowers. As much as Cole liked me, Victoria hated me. But she always maintained the facade of just being a “friend” who stayed quietly by Cole’s side, so I couldn’t really say anything. It wasn’t until the day she fully exposed her malice that I nearly broke. During the final school-wide mock exams, I gripped my pen, calculating furiously. Looking at the familiar test format, my confidence slowly grew. By the time I finished the last question, I even felt a surge of pride. I thought I had that golden ticket secured. Our school had two guaranteed admission spots for top universities, and I was always ranked first in my grade. But just after finishing my last exam, I was called into the principal’s office. For an absolutely absurd reason. “You’re saying I stole the mock exam answer key? Are you insane?” I stood there, trembling uncontrollably. The principal slammed a document onto the desk without any explanation. “The security cameras caught you going into the records room.” “Chloe, don’t be stubborn.” Then, he immediately switched to a different, patronizing tone. “Chloe, actually, given your academic ability, you don’t even need this guaranteed admission spot to get into a top school. Why fight so hard for it here?” He tapped a bank card on the desk and held up five fingers. Fifty thousand dollars. “I didn’t steal the exam.” Victoria stepped out from the shadows, her eyes full of blatant malice. “Stop struggling. Don’t you just study so hard for the money?” “This is more money than you’ll see in your entire life.” I gritted my teeth. “I didn’t steal the exam, and I’m going to make you pay for this.” Back then, I always thought right was right and wrong was wrong, so my first instinct was to expose her and demand justice. But there was no justice. The principal spoke first. “If you keep causing a scene, I can’t guarantee you’ll even be allowed to take the SATs this year.” His eyes were freezing cold. I stood frozen in place. “My academic record has brought this school a lot of prestige.” “Don’t be ridiculous. Without Chloe, there will be an Emily, or an Ashley.” “But finding a student like Victoria, whose family can donate ten million dollars with the snap of a finger, isn’t easy.” “Chloe, stop causing trouble. Just take the money and walk away. It’s better for everyone.” I didn’t believe it, so I went to find Cole. He had said he was my safety net. He could demand justice for me, just like he had at the club that night. But he avoided my eyes. “Chloe, my family’s company ran into some issues recently. Right now, Victoria is our main supplier. I can’t treat her the way I used to.” “It’s just college. I can take you to study abroad with me. You can go wherever you want.” He grabbed my shoulders, looking desperate, while I was on the verge of a total breakdown. “I don’t need the guaranteed admission spot! But why are they framing me for stealing the exam?! I didn’t do it!” I screamed at him, my voice hoarse. “I refuse to carry the stigma of being a thief!” Didn’t he know? Did he know how many people were pointing fingers behind my back, saying the most horrific things about me? “Chloe, those people are just talking nonsense. Why do you care what they think?” “I need you to clear my name.” The continuous breakdown in communication finally triggered Cole’s rich-kid temper. He slammed his fist onto the table. “Do you know who her family is? Do you know who you are? Did you really have to provoke her?” The rain poured down on me. I involuntarily shivered. I almost… I almost actually believed I had a safety net.

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  • Not Your Backup Bride

    When I was 18, I caught my sister lifting Carter’s shirt, her hands trailing over his abs. The boy’s shirt hung loose, and he simply let her do whatever she wanted. At 22, Carter listened to his family and married me. But everyone knew that even though we were married, he still couldn’t let go of the sister he loved so fiercely. Later, I asked for a divorce. He stayed silent for a long time before finally signing the divorce papers. “If you ever need any help in the future, just ask.” At 28, I came back to attend his wedding to my sister. He glared darkly at the man standing beside me. “You couldn’t wait to divorce me back then. Was it all just for him?” 01 “I heard Maya Hayes is back.” “I remember she was the one who asked for the divorce, right?” “Carter Vance is the CEO of the Vance family now. I bet she’s regretting it.” “What’s there to regret? She stole her sister’s marriage in the first place. This is just returning things to their rightful owner.” … The moment I stepped toward the VIP room, I heard them talking about me. Over the past three years, the rumors about me hadn’t died down. They all said I was just playing hard to get. Even my own parents thought so. On the day of my divorce, my mother specifically warned me: “Since you two are divorced, you are not to contact him anymore.” “Your sister injured her leg, and she needs Carter right now. Don’t do anything to upset her.” Seeing me look down in silence, she added: “This marriage belonged to your sister in the first place. If she hadn’t gone abroad to further her career, it never would have been your turn.” My sister, Serena Hayes, and Carter Vance had been the envy of our social circle. But on the eve of their wedding, Serena ran away. By then, the news of the two families merging had already been announced to the press. Under immense public pressure, the Vance family elders decided to swap the bride and have him marry me instead. I don’t know how they convinced him, but Carter eventually agreed to marry me. For three years, we lived like a perfectly normal married couple. But everyone knew that despite marrying me, he had never let go of Serena. He never let me into his home office. One day, he forgot to lock the door. I peeked through the crack and instantly felt like I had been plunged into an ice bath. The walls of his study were covered in his and Serena’s pre-wedding photos. I had never seen Carter look like that. So vibrant, so doting, so utterly focused. His eyes were entirely filled with Serena. That was the moment the thought of divorce first crossed my mind. On the day I finally made up my mind, I accidentally overheard him on the phone. He was speaking in a gentle, coaxing voice to the person on the other end: “Yeah, don’t be scared. I’ll be there in ten minutes… Don’t try to walk, just wait for me. Be a good girl.” The moment he turned around, he saw me. I spoke calmly, “Dinner is ready. Have some before you leave.” He paused for a brief second, then continued walking toward the door. “You eat. Don’t wait up for me.” Just as he was about to step out, I called his name again. A flash of impatience crossed his face. “What is it?” “Carter,” I said. “Let’s get a divorce.” 02 By the time the news of our divorce reached my parents, we had already signed the papers. Carter didn’t mistreat me. He gave me half of his assets. My parents summoned me home in the middle of the night. They interrogated me like a criminal, demanding to know how I could be so cruel as to take half of Carter’s fortune. “Maya, is this how we raised you? Did you only marry him for the Vance family’s money?” Serena stood to the side on her crutches, shedding tears. “Maya, are you blaming me? Are you mad that I came back and took Carter away from you…” Before she could finish, my parents cut her off. “Carter was supposed to be your husband anyway! If you hadn’t been so stubborn about running away, you and Carter would have kids running around by now.” Serena loved Carter, but she loved ballet more. Shortly after accepting Carter’s proposal, she received an offer from a world-renowned ballet company in Europe. She dumped Carter without hesitation and flew across the world. For three years, she practically cut all contact with him. Until that one night, when Carter received an international call. He had been leaning against my shoulder, trying to catch his breath. He answered the phone right in front of me. Because we were so close, I clearly heard the tearful female voice on the other end. Carter froze. One second… five seconds… ten seconds… It took a full thirty seconds for Carter to react. He quickly grabbed a robe and hurried out of the room. Carter didn’t come back that night. The next day, I found out from my parents that Serena had been in an accident during a performance and shattered her leg. Carter personally flew out to bring her back. Even though she was staying at my parents’ house, Carter handled everything related to her personally. Because of this, my parents even sat me down to “counsel” me. “Don’t take it to heart. Your sister can never dance again. She’s devastated, and Carter is the only one who can comfort her right now.” My parents had favored Serena since we were little. She was beautiful, had great grades, and was incredibly talented at singing and dancing. I, on the other hand, was just a bookworm—boring, and terrible at sweet-talking. Everyone revolved around the injured Serena. Including my husband. He gradually lost all patience with me. One evening, he promised to pick me up, but left me waiting in the pouring rain for two hours. I got soaked and came down with a high fever. Carter had no choice but to leave Serena and come to the hospital to take care of me. But my mother believed it was just a manipulative trick to force Carter to come home. She screamed at me hysterically: “Because you dragged Carter away, your sister almost did something unthinkable last night!” “You are a perfectly healthy person! Why do you have to compete with a disabled woman?” I looked at her in disbelief. “But… Carter is my husband.” “So what? This marriage belonged to her in the first place! You stole her husband!” But back then, she was the one who begged me to marry him. Before Serena went abroad, she came to me, trying to convince me to marry Carter. “Maya, I know you like him. Isn’t this a great opportunity?” “Let’s keep the wealth in the family. You don’t want Carter ending up with some other woman, do you?” I kept my head down, staying silent. Serena got anxious. “Are you really just going to watch our family go bankrupt?” “I’m begging you, Maya. Or… are you worried I’ll come back and fight you for him?” My expression shifted slightly. She breathed a sigh of relief. “Don’t worry. Once I go abroad, I won’t ever contact him again. I swear!” For the first three years, she actually kept her word. But in the end, she forgot the vow she had made. 03 After getting the divorce certificate, I moved out West by myself. I didn’t contact my family for three years. A little while ago, they reached out to tell me that Carter and Serena were getting married. Serena was the one who called. “Maya, you have to come back for my wedding. I’ll only feel like I haven’t wronged you if you’re there.” I stayed silent for a long time before saying, “Fine.” The day I arrived home, the weather was beautiful. As soon as I pulled my suitcase through the front door, Serena came running out of her room. “Maya!” Her steps were light and quick. It was late autumn, but she was only wearing a thin slip dress. Behind her, Carter strode quickly, holding a coat. “Why can you never remember to put your slippers on? If you do this again, I’m going to…” His voice suddenly stopped. He saw me. This was the first time we had seen each other since the divorce. Common courtesy dictated I should say hello. I turned and gave him a faint nod. After three years, Carter looked exactly as I remembered. Only, the coldness in his eyes had been replaced by a lingering tenderness. He nodded back, shifted his gaze, and draped the coat over Serena’s shoulders. “You two catch up. I need to go handle some work.” Serena stepped up to me and affectionately linked her arm through mine. “I was so worried you wouldn’t come. I’m going for my dress fitting tomorrow, will you come with me?” I pulled my arm away with a blank expression. “I’m busy tomorrow.” Serena looked disappointed. “Is it really important?” “Yes. Very important.” She thought for a moment. “Then let’s reschedule for the day after tomorrow. Come home early tomorrow after you’re done…” “I’m not staying here,” I interrupted. “Tell Mom and Dad I’ll be pretty busy the next few days, so I won’t be staying at the house.” With that, I grabbed my suitcase and walked away without looking back. I hadn’t walked far when a car slowly pulled up beside me. The window rolled down, revealing Carter’s handsome face. “Get in. I’ll drop you off.” I politely refused. “No thanks. I’m fine.” He was stubborn. Since I wouldn’t get in, he just drove slowly alongside me. “It’s hard to get an Uber around here. Get in.” Looking at the endless road ahead, I finally compromised. I got in the car and gave him an address. His brow furrowed slightly. “Why aren’t you staying at The Belvedere?” “I don’t like it.” The condo at The Belvedere was the one given to me in the divorce settlement. But what he didn’t know was that I had already sold it. Carter’s eyes darkened, but he didn’t ask any more questions. When we arrived at my apartment building, I got out, and Carter followed. He grabbed my suitcase, showing no intention of handing it over. “Let’s go.” “I can take it up myself.” I tried to pull the suitcase back, but it wouldn’t budge. He scanned the surroundings. “Are you having financial troubles?” This place was more than a few steps down from The Belvedere. “No.” He simply dragged the suitcase toward the entrance. “Which building? What floor?” Carter was a persistent man. When he wanted to do something, no one could change his mind. I stopped fighting it and led the way in silence. We got in the elevator and went up. Standing at my front door, I took the suitcase from him. “Thank you. It’s not a good time today, so I won’t invite you in.” “Wait.” I looked back. “These past few years… have you been doing okay?” Looking into his sincere eyes, I felt a wave of dizziness. In my memory, he had never spoken to me with that tone of voice. Just as I was about to answer, the door suddenly opened from the inside. A tall, strikingly handsome man appeared in front of us without warning. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, tall and lean—he looked like walking pheromones. He reached out a long arm and pulled me into his embrace. “What took you so long, hm?” He leaned in to kiss me. The moment his lips touched mine, Carter’s furious voice rang out from behind: “What are you doing?!” But the man had no intention of stopping. He laid a deep kiss on me before slowly turning his head to look at Carter, still holding me tight. But his words were meant for me: “I’ve only been gone a little while, and you’ve already found your next target? You really know how to keep a guy on his toes~” I shoved him lightly, but he didn’t budge an inch. I had no choice but to look at Carter. “Whatever it is, we’ll talk next time.” Carter’s hands balled into fists at his sides, his lips pressed into a thin line. It was the precursor to his rage. But before he could explode, I was pulled inside. The door clicked shut. The man in front of me leaned in dangerously close. “If I recall correctly, your flight landed at 11 AM. It’s currently 2 PM. Three hours, and you’re already meeting up with your ex-husband?” I lightly poked his firm waist. “Liam…” He immediately caught my hand. His voice dropped low. “Don’t try to brush this off.” I gripped the edge of his shirt, looking down in silence. A large hand gently lifted my chin. The second our eyes met, Liam let out an exasperated laugh. “I haven’t even started punishing you yet, why are you crying?” I sniffled. “I missed you so much…” 04 After the divorce, I moved out West and opened a cozy little B&B in a mountain town in Colorado. The town had perfect weather year-round, and the locals were incredibly warm and genuine. Spending time with them did wonders for my mental health. Within a year, the reputation of my little inn grew, and business was no longer as bleak as when I first started. Liam Sterling was the most reclusive guest I had ever hosted. Most of the time, he stayed locked in his room, never stepping outside. He only appeared on the terrace when there were very few people around. At first, I was worried something might happen to him, so I unconsciously kept an eye on his movements. Until one day, while I was sunbathing in the courtyard, he walked over to me with a half-smile and asked: “Do I really look like someone who’s about to end it all?” I looked up in shock. He lay down on the lounge chair next to mine, looking completely relaxed and careless. “I heard you on the phone.” I was instantly mortified. The night before, I had called my best friend and mentioned Liam. I had said, “That guy is really good-looking. It’d be a real shame if he just dropped dead.” I never expected Liam to overhear it. While I was dying of embarrassment, Liam suddenly asked, “You don’t look like a local. What made you want to open a B&B here?” I made up some nonsense: “Too much money, too much free time.” A low, incredibly pleasant laugh rumbled in his throat. I couldn’t help but look over at him, and I was met with a breathtaking sight— The man was resting his head on his arm, staring out at the horizon. His jawline was sharp and clean, his side profile sculpted to perfection. Carter was already incredibly good-looking, but Liam was on a completely different level. He must have felt my stare, because he turned his head, and our eyes locked. I don’t remember who looked away first, but from that day on, the atmosphere between us changed subtly. The day we finally crossed the line, Liam and I had gone hiking in the mountains. On our way down, the weather suddenly turned, and a massive thunderstorm broke out. By the time we got back to the inn, we were completely soaked. That night, I developed a high fever. While trying to get up to take some medicine, I shattered a glass on the floor. Liam literally broke the door down to get to me. I don’t know if it was an illusion or my fever-addled brain, but I distinctly saw sheer terror on his face the moment he burst in. And the second he saw me, he visibly let out a massive sigh of relief. The sickness hit me like a truck. I was bedridden for five days, and Liam took care of me for all five. He moved his instruments into my room, which was how I found out he was a musician. “So, are you just ready to pack up and leave at any moment?” I asked, clutching a mug of hot water. He didn’t answer, instead asking, “Do you want me to leave?” I stayed silent. He took the mug from my hands and suddenly leaned in to kiss me. His burning breath seared every cell in my body. I gripped his shirt, my heart pounding so hard I thought it would burst from my chest. After that day, Liam essentially became the new co-owner of the B&B. Changing lightbulbs, fixing broken chairs—it all became his job. The guests at the inn loved to tease him: “You’re such a good househusband! You should make the beautiful boss marry you already.” Whenever they said that, he would turn to me and ask: “When are you planning to marry me?” I would always just laugh it off. On the surface, he didn’t seem to mind, but the second we were alone, he would find every way possible to torment me in bed. Even when I begged for mercy, he showed absolutely no restraint. I thought those days would last forever. But one day, Liam vanished. I asked the other guests at the inn, and they gossiped: “Where else could he have gone? With a face like that, and being in the music industry? I bet a sugar mama came and scooped him up.” 05 And today, after his sudden disappearance, I finally saw him again. The more I thought about it, the more it hurt, and my tears fell even harder. Liam stared down at me, waiting for me to finish my sentence. But I didn’t say a word. I just kept crying. After a long moment, the man who had looked furious just seconds ago resignedly cupped my face. “I am so fucking hopelessly wrapped around your finger.” “Are you still going to leave?” “Leave? You’re a mess, how could I possibly leave you?” I still didn’t quite believe him. Exhausted from crying, I wrapped my arms around his neck and refused to let go. Helpless, he had no choice but to lie down with me. I slept incredibly soundly that time. When I opened my eyes, Liam was no longer beside me. My phone had been switched to silent at some point, and I had 99+ missed calls—more than half of them from Carter. Aside from that, the long-dead college alumni group chat had suddenly exploded. It was Carter sending a message, saying he wanted to organize a reunion. [If Carter is hosting, we absolutely have to go!] [I heard Liam Sterling is back in town too. Someone invite him!] [Liam? Liam Sterling? When did he get back?!] [It’s really him! I’m a massive fan, I track all his movements. Word is, he came back this time to propose to the girl he’s been secretly in love with for ten years.] Just as I read that, my hand felt empty. My phone had been snatched away. Liam’s handsome face zoomed in close. He ruffled my messy hair. “Sleep well?” I shook my head and slowly shuffled over to rest my head on his lap. “I thought you weren’t going to come.” Before I flew back, I had sent him an email giving him my address. He never replied. I assumed he was too busy to even check his emails. I never expected to see him the moment I got back. To say I was surprised would be an understatement. But behind the surprise was also a bit of a shock. He scooped me up into his arms. “Are you mad?” I wrapped my arms around his waist, buried my face in his chest, and refused to make a sound. His voice softened. “I left in such a rush that day, and I lost my phone, so I couldn’t contact you right away. But I reached out as soon as I could, didn’t I?” “Don’t be mad, okay?” After he left, I had fallen into a deep emotional abyss for a long time. When they said a sugar mama had taken him away, I actually believed it. His phone was disconnected, he didn’t reply to texts—it was like he had vanished off the face of the earth. If he hadn’t finally managed to get a hold of me later, I would have gone to the police. I rolled over in his arms and kept interrogating him: “Then why didn’t you reply to my email?” “The second I saw the email, I bought a plane ticket. I wanted to give you a surprise. Instead, you gave me a heart attack.” Thinking back to how he must have felt seeing me show up with Carter, the impact definitely wasn’t small. I smiled faintly. “But I still haven’t forgiven you.” He lowered his head, a dangerous aura instantly enveloping me. “Then I’ll just have to use that method.” My instinct was to run, but he grabbed my ankle and pulled me right back. Don’t let Liam’s polished exterior fool you—he was a completely different beast behind closed doors. I pressed my hands against his chest. “Liam, I just got off a plane…” “It’s fine. I’ll do all the work, you just lie there.” By the time he was done tossing me around, it was the middle of the night. I was starving and exhausted, pouting in his arms. He seemed to be in a fantastic mood and brought up the alumni reunion. “I’m meeting up with a good buddy of mine. Do you want to go to the reunion together later?” I purposely tried to get a rise out of him: “Carter’s going to be there. Aren’t you worried something might happen between us?” His hand slowly trailed down the curve of my waist, his smile so handsome it made the hairs on my arms stand up. “You’re welcome to try.” What a petty, jealous man!

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  • Resetting the Billionaire’s Heart

    I am a princess of the Manhattan elite. After being married to the city’s newest tech billionaire for barely a year, he went bankrupt. Following our divorce, I experienced a horrifying vision of my ultimate, tragic fate. Desperate, I went to find him to demand we get back together. He just frowned, his thin lips forming a cruel, icy line: “I’m sorry, Miss Sinclair.” “The Sterling family has fallen. We are no longer worthy of a deity like you.” Standing right beside him was his childhood best friend, her smile blindingly smug. I touched my flat stomach and let out an awkward laugh: “Alright, then should I just find a new dad for the baby?” His pupils violently contracted, a massive storm surging in the depths of his eyes: “What. Did. You. Just. Say?” 01 I was wheeled into the operating room for an abortion. The freezing cold of the surgical table stimulated every single one of my senses. Suddenly— Strange, unfamiliar images flashed through my mind. In these visions, following my parents’ arrangements, I entered into a second marriage with a man who basically married into our wealth. Less than six months later, my parents died in a tragic car accident, and this new husband immediately threw me out onto the streets. Penniless and homeless, I was starving to the point where I had to dig through dumpsters for food. The stench of rot and sour decay, the sticky, filthy textures—it was a suffocating, absolute despair. Finally, a passing vagrant snatched the spoiled food right out of my hands and shoved me to the ground. Under a sky full of swirling snow, my body withered and frail, I lay completely motionless. Until I was entirely buried by the snow. The vision permanently froze on that image. Right at that moment, the harsh, surgical spotlight snapped on above me. “Hello, please relax your legs.” The nurse’s voice seemed to echo from far away. I shot up from the table like a coiled spring, my throat choking with sobs. “I’m… I’m sorry. I don’t want to do this anymore.” Walking out of the operating room, my mom immediately grabbed my arm. “Mia? Are you finished already?” “No…” I shook my head, lingering terror gripping my heart as tears rolled uncontrollably down my face. “Mom, I don’t want to go through with it.” If I got rid of this baby, I was going to die a miserable, horrific death. I needed to find Elias Sterling! I needed to remarry him! 02 I headed straight for the rundown, walk-up apartment complex the Sterling family had just moved into. The rusted, peeling metal of the main entrance door reflected my panicked, unsettled face. It seemed to overlap with that dark purple, frostbitten, shriveled face from my vision. I shuddered in sheer terror. Just then, the sound of voices and laughter drifted from nearby. I panicked and ducked into the dark space beneath the stairwell. Peeking out, I saw Elias walking in from outside with another woman. He was carrying a bag of groceries. He looked completely focused as he listened to her speak. “I’ll keep an eye on that project for you. I won’t let you treat me to this meal for nothing.” “How are your parents adjusting since the move?” “If you need anything, I can come over whenever. I actually got really good at cooking while I was living abroad these past few years. You can try my food today.” … The woman’s clear, elegant voice was laced with a light, natural laugh. And Elias, who was usually so cold and aloof, actually responded to her. I bit my lip, feeling an uncontrollable surge of suffocating frustration. The ink on our divorce papers wasn’t even dry yet, and he already had a new woman in his life. But if we didn’t remarry… I was going to lose everything and die a miserable death on the streets! Those horrific images flashed through my mind again, “swish, swish,” like a computer virus spamming pop-up windows. A string of rainbow-colored text wiggled across my vision like a caterpillar: [Uh-oh~ This is what happens when you get a divorce~] My entire body violently trembled. The fear was like a massive, suffocating black shroud pressing down on my head, making it impossible to breathe. Ugh! It was too terrifying! The instinct to survive overpowered everything else. I gritted my teeth and bolted out of the shadows. I had just opened my mouth to shout: “Eli—” CLICK! The apartment door shut. I stared at the closed door in absolute defeat. Suddenly, the door opened again!! A pair of long, straight legs stepped out. I froze in complete shock. 03 Elias stood in the hallway. His gaze, entirely devoid of warmth, landed on my face, carrying the distant annoyance of someone whose peace had been disturbed. “What are you doing here?” His tone was absolute ice. He had always possessed a cold, aloof personality and kept people at a distance. But during the nearly twelve months we were married, whenever it was just the two of us, his demeanor was always warm and gentle. This was the very first time he had ever used such a freezing, hostile tone with me. My heart involuntarily tightened, and my voice trembled: “I… I came to see you.” “I want… to rem…” “What? I can’t hear you.” “I said I want to remarry! I want to remarry you!” I gathered every ounce of courage I had, squeezed my eyes shut, and shouted it out. The lighting in the stairwell was dim. The flash of pure shock in Elias’s eyes disappeared as quickly as it came, so fast it felt like a hallucination. He didn’t say a word. The air stagnated, leaving only the drafty, suffocating silence of the hallway and the thunderous pounding of my own heart. He glanced at the half-open door behind him, then raised a hand and pulled it shut. His long legs stepped forward, descending the stairs one by one. His movements were deliberate and unhurried, carrying a silent, crushing pressure. Like a low-pressure system rapidly building before a massive hurricane. I held my breath, my fingernails digging deeply into the soft flesh of my palms. The flashing images of my tragic death were still actively stimulating my nerves. Elias stopped right in front of me, barely an arm’s length away. His gaze locked onto me again, his eyes as dark and cold as a deep abyss. “I’m sorry, Miss Sinclair.” His tone was perfectly flat, every syllable razor-sharp. He paused, devoid of any emotion, offering only a freezing, objective statement: “The Sterling family has fallen. We are no longer worthy of a deity like you.” 04 He said, no longer worthy… Those three words hit my heart like massive blocks of ice. Humiliation instantly swallowed me whole. My face burned with a searing heat. When the Sterling family filed for bankruptcy, right when Elias needed me the absolute most, I listened to my parents’ arrangements and demanded a divorce. And now, barely a week after receiving the official divorce decree, I was shamelessly showing up to beg for a “remarriage.” It was incredibly abrupt, and deeply offensive. It was entirely natural for him to assume I was just playing some sick game with him. But… “I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant. I’m here because…” I frantically tried to explain, but the words died on my lips. What was I supposed to say? Say that I foresaw the future? Say that if I left him, I would die a gruesome death? He wouldn’t just think I was playing with him; he’d think I belonged in a psychiatric ward! I was so anxious that tears welled up in my eyes. One blink, and they spilled over without warning. “Why are you crying?” His brow furrowed slightly, a hint of impatience leaking into his voice. “Isn’t a divorce exactly what you wanted?” His Adam’s apple bobbed. He seemed like he wanted to say something else, but ultimately just pressed his lips into a tight line. “We are finished.” “Go home. The princess of the Manhattan elite shouldn’t be in a place like this.” He gave a slight nod, assuming the posture of a formal farewell. Just as he turned to leave, I practically threw myself at him, wrapping my arms tightly around his waist, crying out with a trembling voice: “Don’t go!” “I… I really need you!” “Ever since we got the divorce papers, I’ve actually been thinking about you every single day. I think about what it was like when we were together. I… I realized I can’t live without you. Can we please get back together? I can’t do this without you!” Through the thin fabric of his shirt, the muscles in his waist instantly went rigid, radiating an aura of intense, suppressed power. He lowered his eyes, his gaze falling onto my hands wrapped around him. His eyes held scrutiny, probing curiosity, and a sliver of dark, turbulent emotion buried deep beneath the ice. After a moment, he raised his hands and, inch by inch, pried my fingers apart. My heart jumped into my throat. He turned his head to look back at me, his dark eyes bottomless. “On what grounds?” His thin lips barely moved. His voice was as cold as a knife plunged into freezing water, piercing with agonizing precision into the deepest, most vulnerable part of my heart. He paused, and every word was devastatingly clear as he delivered his cold-blooded interrogation: “What does marriage mean to you?” “A tool you can summon and discard at your convenience?” He didn’t speak quickly, but every word was a blade. “Or do you think that just because I, Elias Sterling, am down on my luck, I have to allow Miss Sinclair to manipulate me however she pleases?” “…” Dead silence surrounded us. I opened my mouth several times, but I couldn’t force a single sound out. He was right… On what grounds? Seeing me completely speechless, the last microscopic trace of emotion in Elias’s eyes completely vanished, leaving only a profound, abyss-like stillness and… utter exhaustion. “Nothing to say?” He curled his lip in a mocking sneer. “Then, regarding remarriage—” “Ab. So. Lutely. Not.” Four words. Ironclad. Leaving absolutely zero room for negotiation. 05 The atmosphere was frozen solid. The words hanging on the edge of my lips were completely shattered by the sheer exhaustion and disgust in his eyes. Right at that moment, a faint noise came from upstairs. That tightly closed door was pushed open a crack once again. The voices inside were a bit distant, but they filtered clearly into my eardrums: “…You’re cooking tonight yourself. What is that boy doing running out into the hallway? Let me go find him.” “It’s fine, Mrs. Sterling. I’ll go.” A clear, elegant, and gentle female voice drifted closer. I went completely rigid. It felt like all the blood had instantly drained from my body. My fingertips turned to ice. For some inexplicable reason, my heart violently clenched. I stared intently at that crack in the door, where a sliver of light spilled out. In my peripheral vision, Elias remained turned sideways, perfectly still. His cold, almost clinical, scrutinizing gaze remained heavily fixed on my face, as if he were trying to dissect something from my expression. But what was he looking at? Looking at the humiliation of my rejection? Or… something else? I subconsciously bit my dry lips, my gaze uncontrollably drifting back upstairs. The door was pushed open a bit wider, and a slender, pale hand rested on the doorframe. That female voice sounded again, carrying a hint of intimacy and inquiry: “Elias? Are you out here?” Elias finally stopped looking at me. He turned his body fully away, his jawline tight, his tone absolute: “Go back. And from now on, don’t ever come looking for me again.” Before he even finished the sentence, he had already lifted his foot to leave. But the moment his foot hit the first step, I couldn’t stop a sharp, pathetic sniffle from escaping my nose. His footsteps faltered. His tall, broad back stiffened for a fraction of a second. Then, with a look that seemed like a mix of exasperation and impatience, he turned back around. I looked up at him with pathetic, pleading eyes, meeting his gaze, and whispered timidly: “I… I don’t know how to get back…” “Where is your driver?” His brow furrowed deeply. I shook my head, my voice getting quieter and quieter: “I took the bus here by myself…” Elias turned completely around to face me. He stared at me intently, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “…Why?” His voice was dry, carrying its usual coldness, but it also seemed layered with another, entirely different emotion. I kept my head down, wringing my hands, feeling an inexplicable sense of guilt, answering like a child who had been caught doing something wrong: “I wanted to try it.” “Try what?” “Try… if we get remarried, and I don’t have a driver or a car anymore, and I can only take the bus or the subway… try to see if I can actually handle it.” I explained honestly, shooting him a quick, nervous glance. “I just… wanted to adapt ahead of time!” The air went dead silent for a second. Elias stared at me, his eyes as deep as a dark pool. Something seemed to flash rapidly across the depths of his eyes, like a pebble tossed into a deep well, sending out microscopic ripples. But in the blink of an eye, it was covered by ice again. I couldn’t read his expression. I only felt that his jaw was clenched as tight as a drawn bowstring. Tight, but still incredibly handsome. That thought made even me pause in shock. Upstairs, the light in the crack of the door shifted. That clear female voice drifted down again, tinged with confusion: “Elias? Are you not done yet?” That voice was like a kill switch. Whatever microscopic emotion I couldn’t understand in Elias’s eyes instantly froze over, leaving nothing but pure, unadulterated coldness. He pulled at the corner of his mouth, the icy curve laced with an indescribable, mocking bitterness: “You probably couldn’t even recognize half the bus routes if you tried. What are you talking about ‘adapting’?” “Stop being naive. We are no longer people who walk the same path.” “Go back. Go live the life you’re supposed to live.” With that, he didn’t spare me another glance. He turned and took long, purposeful strides up the stairs. His back was resolute. He didn’t hesitate for a single second. 06 I stood frozen in place. The door upstairs had already clicked shut. The soundproofing in this walk-up building was terrible. In the stairwell, I could still hear the muffled, indistinct sounds of their conversation from inside. The July wind was supposed to be sweltering. So why did I feel so incredibly cold? My chest felt tight and suffocating, and my nose stung painfully. He seemed… even angrier now? But I was just telling the truth… Amidst the suffocating feeling, those pop-up-like visions flashed through my mind again. But what was different this time was that I wasn’t entering a second marriage. Instead, I was heavily pregnant, being shoved down a flight of stairs by the man who was supposed to be my second husband. Bright red blood rapidly pooled beneath me. I died with my eyes wide open, as my devastated parents came running from a distance… This scene was infinitely more terrifying than freezing to death on the streets! I instinctively clutched my lower abdomen. Go back and live the life I’m “supposed” to live? No, no, no! I don’t have a life I’m supposed to live! If we don’t remarry, I’m just going to die in a variety of gruesome ways. His refusal to remarry must just mean he thinks I’m not showing enough sincerity. I have to prove it to him! If he rejects me once, I’ll go back twice. If he rejects me twice, I’ll go back four times! I’ll overwhelm him with sheer volume until it causes a qualitative change! 07 And so, I went back time and time again. Everyone in the building, and even half the neighborhood, knew that Elias Sterling’s ex-wife was begging for a remarriage. But when Elias faced me, he continued to reject me with a cold, stony expression. It was only occasionally, when I clumsily tried to help out, that his deeply furrowed brow would ease, and his gaze would linger on me for a moment. Carrying a complex, scrutinizing weight. As if I was the one who bankrupted his family, rather than the business partner who had embezzled the funds and was currently on the run. Elias’s parents still treated me with the same warmth and affection as always, but even they tried to dissuade me: “You grew up in the lap of luxury. Your parents couldn’t bear to see you suffer, and we equally can’t bear to see you come back and suffer with us!” “Look at your hands. You just peeled some garlic, and your manicured nails are already chipping.” “Mia, be a good girl. Don’t come back starting tomorrow.” I completely disagreed, smiling as I said: “But I don’t feel like I’m suffering at all! Everyone has to experience a lot of ‘firsts’ in life.” “I’m going to work hard and get better at this!” That’s what I said out loud. But the reality was, the person navigating the kitchen with expert ease was Audrey Jenkins. While I could only stand outside the kitchen, watching helplessly. There was no helping it. Lately, if I smelled even the slightest hint of cooking odors, my stomach would violently churn. Watching Elias’s mom and Audrey interact like family, a thick, indescribable wave of envy and bitterness washed over me. When no one was looking, I quietly slipped out the door. Just as I pulled the door shut, I looked up and ran right into Elias, who was just returning home. His eyes were cold, and his tone was even colder. “What’s wrong?” I shook my head in utter defeat. I couldn’t exactly tell him that I was feeling incredibly frustrated and useless, could I? He stepped up the last two stairs, stopping just inches away from me. “If you can’t handle it, just go back,” his low, raspy voice seemed to carry a hint of a sigh. I was stunned. I looked up at him, defiant. “I am not unable to handle the hardship! This doesn’t even count as hardship, okay?! I’m just…” “Just… feeling like I can’t really help with anything…” My voice trailed off, laced with a subtle, hard-to-hide despair. I couldn’t accept the fact that, compared to Audrey Jenkins, I was so incredibly useless. Audrey’s family used to be neighbors with the Sterlings. She and Elias had practically grown up together as childhood sweethearts. After high school graduation, the Jenkins family immigrated to Europe. She must have heard about the Sterling family’s bankruptcy and specifically flown back. That kind of deep, supportive loyalty in a time of crisis was infinitely better than me, the ex-wife who demanded a divorce the second he went bankrupt. “Anyway!” I paused, biting out the words with emphasis. “I’m not leaving! Unless you agree to remarry me!” Having delivered my ultimatum, I immediately looked away. Tears were pooling in my eyes, and I bit down hard on my jaw to keep them from falling. His gaze swept over my eyes, and he remained silent. After a long time, he finally spoke. “Understood.” Understood? What did he understand? The reason I couldn’t go into the kitchen wasn’t because I lacked the ability; it was because I was carrying a tiny human life in my belly, okay?! You don’t understand anything at all! 08 My morning sickness was getting progressively worse. Seeing my misery, my mom couldn’t stand it anymore and suggested I just use the pregnancy to force Elias into remarrying me. I refused. What if he was truly ruthless and didn’t even want the baby? I couldn’t risk the baby’s life. 09 Elias had been working like a maniac lately. The only time I ever saw him was when I brought him food. In his sparse, rundown office, his profile as he bent over his desk under the harsh fluorescent lights looked incredibly focused and lonely. The interplay of light and shadow highlighted his sharp, deep features, his straight nose, and his tightly pressed, thin lips. I suddenly remembered that in the past, late at night, he used to sit in his home office, focused on his documents just like this. And I would curl up in a rocking chair nearby, hugging a throw pillow, just watching him. I would watch him until I fell asleep, and when I woke up, I was always in his arms. Thinking about that, my heart gave an inexplicable, phantom flutter. The past and the present overlapped, creating the illusion that we had never actually gotten divorced. He was always so cold and distant with the outside world. I was the only one who had ever seen him lose all control. Those indescribable days and nights were seared into my bones, making me blush and my heart race just thinking about them. “What are you standing there for?” He looked up, noticing me, and stood up to walk over. As he took the insulated lunch box from me, his fingertips casually brushed against mine. He frowned. “Are you feeling sick?” “Huh? No, I’m fine…” I shook my head, totally oblivious. His cool hand rested on my burning cheek. He looked suspicious, his eyes searching. “Your face is really red.” “Uh… I’m really fine…” I looked away in embarrassment, but the heat spread from my cheeks all the way to the tips of my ears. He stared at me, his gaze growing darker and deeper, like a predator gathering its strength. That kind of surging, highly aggressive gaze was incredibly familiar. So familiar that my heart almost beat out of my chest. After a moment, his Adam’s apple bobbed, and his voice was slightly hoarse. “It’s late. You should head back.” “What about you? Are you still working?” “Yeah.” He turned to walk back to his desk, and I followed right behind him. I clasped my hands behind my back, shaking my head back and forth, and said, “Then I’m not leaving either.” “It’s too dark outside. I’m scared. I need you to walk me home.” Under the harsh spotlight, our two shadows, one tall and one short, intersected and overlapped. After a long pause, I finally heard his response: “…Suit yourself.” 10 With his tacit approval, delivering food became my excuse to linger and refuse to leave. After eating, he went back to burying himself in his work. I rested my face in my hands, staring at him for hours, inevitably becoming completely mesmerized. Beneath his thick, long eyelashes, his eyes held a glimmer of starlight. I loved seeing my own reflection in his eyes, as if I were the only person in his entire world. And those thin, warm lips. Whenever he kissed me, he always liked to start with a tentative, gentle taste. Sometimes, unable to withstand my pleading, this seemingly cold man would actually whisper a few incredibly romantic, dirty things to me. My thoughts drifted from those memories back to the present, and as if possessed, I called out his name: “Elias…” “Hmm?” “Elias,” I called again. “Yeah.” “E…li…as?” He looked up from his documents, looking at me with helpless exasperation. “What is it?” I leaned closer, asking with absolute, profound sincerity: “The way things are between us right now… isn’t it nice?” “Why won’t you just remarry me?” “If you remarry me, my family will help you. Everything will become so much easier, and…” “Mia.” He cut me off, his gaze as heavy and impenetrable as fog. “Have you ever thought about what would happen if… your family fell, too?” My heart plummeted instantly. The horrific images that had flashed before my eyes surged into my mind. “There is no such thing as a permanent safety net,” his voice was cold and hard. “Relying on yourself is the only reliable thing.” After saying that, his expression softened slightly, his tone becoming gentler, laced with a hint of apology. “I’m sorry, I can’t.” “Your safety net will always be there,” he added, his eyes carrying a heavy, unspoken weight. Looking at the absolute sincerity in his eyes, a warm current seemed to flood my heart. See? This is the Elias Sterling I married. He had always treated me with such tender warmth. His coldness was nothing but a shell he presented to the outside world. I shook my head, pretending not to care, and smiled encouragingly. “Then I’ll cheer you on! I’ll wait for you to make your comeback, and I’ll wait for you to become someone else’s safety net!” He let out a sudden, faint laugh. It was very subtle, but blindingly beautiful. “I have no intention of being anyone else’s safety net.” “You have the Sinclair family now, and in the future, you’ll have…” The rest of the sentence was incredibly soft, as light as a sigh. I didn’t catch it. When I looked up again, he was already focused back on his documents. As if the tenderness and the unfinished sentence from a moment ago were entirely a figment of my imagination. I stared at his handsome profile, entirely unable to tear my eyes away. It felt as if a voice was secretly whispering in my ear: Just looking at him like this… is actually pretty wonderful…

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  • My Date with a Leopard

    I rescued a little cat who could turn into a boy. To thank me, he offered to set me up with his uncle. Things heated up, and one thing led to another. As the passion peaked, he whispered in my ear. “A leopard’s… equipped with barbs. Tell me if it hurts.” Lost in the haze of desire, I heard those words and violently shoved him off me. “What leopard? Aren’t you a cute little kitty?” Professor Streep, now sprawled rather ungracefully on the floor, picked himself up. His brow was furrowed, his expression one you’d give a complete idiot. “Nora, you can’t tell the difference between a house cat and a leopard?” 1 “Miss, are you going to send me to a lab to be cut open?” I stared down at the little boy, my expression grave. “Please don’t send me away. Pip’s scared of pain. Pip doesn’t want to be a science experiment.” Before I could even respond, the boy, a fluffy tail swishing behind him, burst into tears. He looked so utterly pathetic that my heart melted on the spot. There was no room for hesitation now. I scooped him into my arms. “I’m not thinking that at all. Don’t cry, don’t cry. I was just wondering what exactly you… are.” The words died on my lips. That didn’t sound right. But I was genuinely at a loss. What kind of creature was he? A little cat-boy, with actual ears and a tail? “No, no, I’m not sending you to any lab,” I soothed. “But you have to tell me… what’s the deal with…” I gestured toward the tail behind his back and the furry ears atop his head. “Is this for some kindergarten play or something?” Though, I knew no costume prop could ever be this realistic. When I’d accidentally brushed against it earlier, I could have sworn I felt the warmth of his tail. Sniffling, the little cat-boy pulled away from my hug. 2 Though his face was streaked with tears, he managed to reach up and touch his ears and tail. “These?” “Yes.” “Everyone in my family has them! Don’t you, miss? Oh, wait. A grown-up like you should be able to hide your tail really well.” He added, “Mommy says I’m still little, so my control is not so good.” My brain short-circuited. Everyone in his family… so… He wasn’t the only cat-person out there? Had the world gone mad? Or was it me? Before I could fully process this new reality, Pip patted his small stomach. “Miss, I’m hungry.” I sighed. Fine. Human or cat, a hungry belly was a hungry belly. I wasn’t sure what Pip could eat in human form, so I avoided anything that might upset a feline stomach. Watching the little cat-boy happily munching away, I felt a wave of helplessness wash over me. What was I even doing? I’d found Pip in a back alley. I was just passing by when the heavens opened up, a torrential downpour. A strange noise from the alley had caught my attention, and when I went to investigate, I saw Pip, his little cat ears and tail peeking out. So how was I supposed to contact his family now? Surely his kind had a way of finding each other, right? “Miss, are you single?” Pip suddenly leaned in close, his beautiful eyes fixed on me. “S-single, yes. Why?” “To repay you for saving my life, I want to introduce you to my uncle! What do you think?” “Huh?” Kid, you can’t even fend for yourself right now, and you’re already worried about your uncle’s love life? 3 I placed a hand on Pip’s forehead and gently pushed him back. “You just focus on your dinner. I’ll figure out how to get you home later.” “Oh, okay. But my uncle is really handsome.” “Right.” “And he’s rich! Not stingy at all! He’s the most generous person in our whole family!” “Zip it.” “You really don’t want to meet him?” “Tuck your tail in.” He finally quieted down, and I could think. Just as I swatted away Pip’s tail from my ankle for what felt like the tenth time, the doorbell rang. I had no idea who was outside, but one thing was certain: no one could see Pip like this. I wouldn’t turn him over to a lab, but that didn’t mean someone else wouldn’t. I grabbed a blanket and draped it over Pip from behind, completely hiding him from view. “Be a good boy. Don’t take this off, or I’ll be very cross.” “Okay!” Once he was hidden, I went to answer the door. The moment I opened it, I was completely intimidated by the man standing there. He was imposingly tall; I had to crane my neck just to look at the buttons on his chest. His gaze was unnerving. He had the aura of… my old high school principal. I instinctively took a step back, putting some distance between us. “Hello, can I help you?” The man’s gaze swept over me, cold and indifferent, before landing on the spot right behind me. His voice was firm, a statement, not a question. “You found a child today.” His tone made me feel guilty, as if I’d stolen the kid instead of rescuing him. But I quickly composed myself. 4 “Who are you?” His eyes returned to me. He wore a khaki trench coat over a neatly pressed white shirt and dress pants. A look that was formal yet with a touch of casualness. But the longer I looked, the more my own confidence seemed to shrink. “That’s none of your concern.” Hey! What did he mean, ‘none of my concern’? I was the one who found the kid. I couldn’t just hand him over to some stranger without knowing who he was. What if something happened? It would be my responsibility. I stepped forward, blocking his path. “If you don’t explain yourself, I’m calling the police.” The man seemed surprised by my assertiveness. He glanced at his wristwatch, a flicker of impatience on his face. “Pip Lowell. If you don’t come out now, you can forget about ever leaving the house by yourself again.” Before I could make sense of his words, a small figure scurried past me, clinging to my leg and looking up at the man. “Uncle!” Un… cle? My astonished gaze shot to the man’s face, but he only gave me a fleeting, dismissive glance. Then he knelt down to the little cat-boy’s level. He ruffled the blanket-covered head without trying to look underneath. His tone was a mixture of sternness, threat, and a strange hint of gloating. “You got caught, didn’t you? When we get back, your mother is going to ground you for a month.” Pip’s face fell instantly. He pouted. “Can’t you not tell Mommy, Uncle?” “And what’s in it for me if I don’t?” Pip, still clutching my hand, darted his eyes around before they landed on me. He tugged excitedly at the man’s coat. “Uncle! I found you a wife!” The boy’s declaration plunged the hallway into a sudden, icy silence. The man on the floor slowly rose to his feet. His perpetually frosty expression finally cracked, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “My wife?” 5 I held the little cat-boy’s hand, grinding my back teeth. If his guardian weren’t standing right here, I’d be giving this kid a serious talking-to. And him! What was he smiling about? Was this funny to him? So what if he was handsome? “Haha, he’s just kidding. I’m not.” The man, whose name I still didn’t know, just nodded, his expression unreadable. “Alistair Streep. I’m Pip’s uncle.” I nodded back. “Nora Hayes. I’m…” The words “your wife” almost slipped out. Thankfully, I caught myself in time. But I had a sneaking suspicion Alistair knew exactly what I was about to say. Well, if he didn’t call me out on it, it meant he didn’t know. Yep. He definitely didn’t know. “I found Pip in an alley near the university. Don’t worry, no one else saw him. You can take him home now.” I gently nudged Pip toward Alistair, then ruffled his little head. Even though we’d only known each other for an hour, I’d grown quite fond of the little guy. But given our circumstances, this was probably the last time we’d ever see each other. Alistair took Pip’s hand but didn’t leave. Instead, he turned his gaze back to me. “If you have a moment, I’d like to discuss what happened with Pip. I hope I’m not imposing.” It clicked. I understood what he wanted to talk about. It had to be about keeping their secret. I stepped aside, holding the door open. “Come in. Don’t worry about your shoes. It’ll only take a minute.” I saw Alistair hesitate for a second. 6 In the end, he decided to take my advice and walked in with his shoes on. I gestured for the two of them to sit on the sofa. My apartment wasn’t very big, and suddenly having two extra people in it felt a bit strange. The sofa was now completely occupied. Fortunately, I didn’t mind. I pulled up a chair and sat opposite them. “Don’t worry. About Pip,” I glanced at Alistair, “and your family’s situation, I’ll keep it a complete secret. I promise I won’t tell a soul.” Hearing this, Alistair pinched Pip’s cheek. “You told her?” Pip gave a sheepish, guilty little smile. “Nora’s a good person! I knew she wouldn’t tell. And Uncle, please don’t tell Mommy.” Alistair ignored Pip’s plea, tapping him on the head. “No negotiation. Do you have any idea how serious this was? Go home and accept your punishment.” Watching them interact, I suddenly felt that Alistair wasn’t as unapproachable as he’d seemed at first. A small smile touched my lips. The next second, my eyes met Alistair’s. I quickly wiped the smile off my face. “I do trust you, Miss Hayes. But as you can imagine, a family like ours has… a great deal to worry about. Forgive me for asking, but did you happen to take any photos of Pip?” I shook my head. As shocking as the whole thing was, I never once considered telling anyone. So, taking pictures had never crossed my mind. Fearing he wouldn’t believe me, I unlocked my phone and opened my photo gallery, placing it in front of him. “You can check for yourself.” Alistair didn’t even glance at it, pushing the phone back to me. 7 “If you say you didn’t take any, then you didn’t. I believe you.” I nodded and put my phone away. So, what now? Alistair didn’t seem inclined to speak, so I hesitated for a moment before asking, “Can I ask you a few questions? They might be a bit… personal.” Alistair nodded. “You can ask. If it’s something I can’t answer, I simply won’t.” I was a bit taken aback. Professor Streep was certainly direct. But direct was good; it made communication easier. I pointed at Pip. “So, people like you… non-humans… I guess that’s the right term? Can you live among regular humans?” Alistair rested his hands on his knees, his posture impeccably elegant. He made my cheap sofa look like a luxury item. “There are more of us in this world than you might think. You just don’t know it. We all hide our true nature when living in human society. We also have our own governing bodies. If there’s an accident, or if someone uses their abilities to harm a human, they are punished. So you have nothing to worry about.” I felt like my brain was overloading with new information. But then again, it’s a wide, weird world. It was plausible. But… if Pip said his whole family was like him, then… My gaze drifted to the top of Alistair’s head. So, was Alistair a kitty-cat too? Did his tail wag when he was happy, just like Pip’s? Just picturing it, with Alistair’s stern face, I knew I had to stop. Any further and I’d turn into a total creep. “Oh, I see.” 8 “Do you age like humans?” “Yes. Our lifespans are similar to humans. We get sick, and we die. Aside from occasionally reverting to our true forms and retaining some of our original traits, there’s no difference.” Hearing him say that, my curiosity spiked. I hadn’t noticed any feline characteristics on him. Was he secretly obsessed with catnip? Did he love having his hair stroked? “So what are your traits?” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me. The next moment, I felt like I was falling into the world of his eyes. They were stunning, sparkling with light. His true form must be a beautiful cat. Suddenly, a teasing glint appeared in their depths. “If they’re hidden traits, then naturally, I can’t just tell anyone.” I felt a pang of disappointment. “Oh. Okay.” “But I hope one day you’ll be the one to discover them.” I highly doubted that. What were the chances of running into so many non-humans in one lifetime? Still, I nodded. “We’ll see.” After a few more minutes of conversation, Alistair’s phone rang. He got up, ready to take Pip home. As they were leaving, he tried to give me back the blanket from Pip’s head. I stopped him. “Let him keep it on. My neighborhood is pretty busy.” Alistair gave me a long, deep look, then nodded. I watched him carry Pip toward the elevator, about to head back inside. But before I took a step, I heard Pip’s loud voice echo down the hall. “Uncle, you didn’t get your wife’s number! How are you going to talk to her later if you don’t get her number? Go back and get it!” At his words, I turned my head and met Alistair’s slightly embarrassed gaze. Then I watched, stunned, as the man walked back to me and held out his phone. “Shall we? We shouldn’t let the kid’s efforts go to waste.” “…Okay.” 9 It was only after he’d left that I realized how foolish I’d just been. And Alistair’s words… they sounded a bit ambiguous, didn’t they? The kid’s efforts. Looking at the new contact on my phone, I had to admit, it was all thanks to the little cat-boy’s efforts. Next time I saw him, I’d have to thank him properly. Though, I figured the chances of anything happening between me and Alistair were slim to none. We weren’t even the same species! After tidying up, I fell into bed. I thought I’d be too wired to sleep, but I was out like a light. After that day, I heard nothing from Pip or Alistair. Although we had each other’s contact information, it didn’t seem to matter much. I didn’t dare to text him first, and he never texted me. It was like we were both playing a game of chicken, too reserved to make the first move. So much for the handsome mystery man. Life, however, had to go on. My company recently started a collaboration with a professor from the local university. “Heard you’re going to meet Professor Streep?” I was packing my bag, getting ready to head out, when my colleague, Sarah, sidled up to my desk. I’d known her long enough to recognize that tone. She was up to something. I checked the time. It was still early, so I sat back down. “Yeah. What’s up?” “Nothing with me. But you’re about to have something up.” “Is he a nightmare to work with?” “Nope. He’s ridiculously handsome. I bet you’ll see him and fall in love at first sight.” I scoffed. I’d seen my fair share of handsome men over the years. 10 Love at first sight? Not likely. That’s what I thought before I met him. After I met him, I had to admit, sometimes Sarah was spot on. Because the professor we were collaborating with was none other than Alistair Streep. He was a university professor! No wonder. No wonder when I first saw him, he reminded me of my high school principal. It all made sense now. “What a coincidence, Miss Hayes.” I managed a tight smile. “It really is. I never expected the person my company was working with would be you.” Alistair poured me a glass of water and gestured for me to sit. He wasn’t as icy as our first meeting, but he still had an intimidating presence. Clutching the glass, my mind raced, desperately searching for something to talk about. What should I say? “Pip was just talking about you the other day.” “Oh? Really? Well, you can bring him over to play sometime.” Alistair took off the glasses perched on his nose. “That might not be possible for a while.” “Huh?” “My sister has him grounded. He’s not allowed out to play. I trust you understand?” I thought back to our last encounter and nodded vigorously. I got it. I thought the punishment was just an empty threat, but it was real. Their family must be very strict. “By the way, Miss Hayes…” “Please, call me Nora. Miss Hayes sounds so formal.” A flicker of surprise crossed Alistair’s eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. “Alright, Nora. I was wondering if you’re free sometime soon. My sister would like to treat you to dinner, to thank you in person for what you did for Pip.” I hadn’t expected his sister to be so formal about it. I quickly waved my hands. 11 “Oh, no, that’s not necessary. I really didn’t do much.” Alistair didn’t say anything, just looked at me. But from his gaze, I could read a clear message: refusal was not an option. But having dinner with Alistair’s sister? I really wasn’t up for it. My social anxiety was already kicking in. So I pivoted, changing the subject back to work. “Professor Streep, if you really want to thank me, then I hope we can have a perfect collaboration. How does that sound?” Alistair smiled. “Even if you hadn’t said that, I would have cooperated fully. But since you’d rather not, I won’t insist. Perhaps some other time.” I breathed a sigh of relief. But I couldn’t help but think to myself, what, am I suddenly going to be an extrovert in the future? Whatever. I’d dodged it for now. My meeting with Alistair went smoothly. He was brilliant, and it was clear he’d done his homework on our company’s new product. There were virtually no gaps in his knowledge. Occasionally, one of his students would come in to see him. When they saw the two of us, they all had a strange look in their eyes. Having been a student myself, I knew that look. I knew exactly what they were thinking. I tried to step back, to create some distance between me and Alistair. But I hadn’t noticed the chair behind me. I lost my footing and started to fall backward. Alistair saw and lunged to catch me, but my momentum pulled him down with me. The result was an awkward, heart-stoppingly intimate pose. He was hovering over me, his hands braced on the chair next to my head, his gaze locked onto mine. “Professor Streep, I…” A knock came from the door. A student’s voice called out, only to die in his throat the moment he saw us. Awkward. So, so awkward. 12 “Sorry, sorry, Professor! I’ll come back later.” He even pulled the door shut on his way out. Oh, thank you so much for that. Alistair pushed himself up, his expression as calm and unruffled as ever. “Professor Streep, I think we’ve covered enough for today. I should get going. Goodbye.” I grabbed my things and practically fled. If I stayed a second longer, I was going to combust. After that day, the scene replayed itself in my dreams over and over. Because of it, I was almost afraid to contact Alistair. Every message was strictly professional. I avoided going to see him unless it was absolutely necessary. But this collaboration required me to see him. The next time I went to the university, the weather was not on my side. Just as I reached his office building, the sky opened up. It wasn’t just rain; it was a full-blown tempest. Damn it. I hadn’t brought an umbrella. I could only hope the storm would pass by the time I was done. I was running a little late, and the building was mostly empty, save for a few students I didn’t recognize. When I got to Alistair’s office, I knocked, but there was no answer. I tentatively tried the doorknob. It was unlocked. I knew it was probably bad form, but waiting out here could take forever. I slowly pushed the door open just a crack. Peeking inside, I was suddenly yanked into the room. The door slammed shut, and I was pinned against it by a man’s body. The searing heat radiating from him told me something was terribly wrong. “Alistair… Professor Streep?” “It’s me.” Alistair seemed to be in agony, unable to support his own weight. He leaned heavily against me, his forehead resting on my shoulder. His breath, even through the fabric of my clothes, was scorching hot. And then came the final, fatal blow. I felt it. The same sensation as Pip’s tail. Only this time, it wasn’t at my ankle. It was higher, above my knee. A soft, furry tail coiled around my thigh. “Help me… I’m burning up.”

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  • Neither Husband Nor Son Is Mine

    Every Christmas since we married, Declan booked three international plane tickets. They were for him, his daughter Daisy, and his ex-wife. It was a tradition that started before I came into his life, and it continued year after year. When his phone rang with the special tone he had set for them, he answered right away. Daisy wanted to go to Switzerland this year, to the place where he and her mother once planned to marry. “She keeps asking what I would look like in a wedding dress there,” his ex said, her voice bright and amused. Declan did not hesitate. He began making arrangements for a bridal gown fitting for Daisy. His ex-wife paused, then asked, “But what about Vivian?” “Vivian understands,” Declan replied, not lowering his voice even though I was sitting beside him. “She would not be upset with a child. I promised Daisy she would be my only child. It is only a dress. Her happiness comes first.” My hand closed around the ultrasound report in my pocket. I smoothed the paper gently, then released it. All right, Declan. If your promise is to have only one child, then my child and I will help you keep that promise. 1 Declan flew back to Boston right on our wedding anniversary. The moment he walked through the door, he pulled a signature orange designer box from behind his back. But before he could even hand it to me, that familiar music box melody chimed again. He froze for a second, then answered it anyway. “I am busy right now.” On the other end of the line, his ex-wife Vanessa spoke through thick, theatrical sobs. “I know you are busy. But Daisy just got home and she has been crying hysterically for you.” Declan’s posture instantly went rigid. “Did you tell her I didn’t want her again?” He hung up the phone and looked at me, his eyes swimming with genuine guilt. He lowered his voice, adopting that soft, placating tone I knew too well. “You have been mentioning how much you love this bag. Look, I really need to check on Daisy. Vanessa cannot handle her alone…” Before I could say a word, he turned around and walked right back out the door. I was already used to it. As long as his ex-wife and daughter needed something, I would forever be second place. By ten o’clock that night, Declan still had not returned. My phone vibrated on the nightstand. Declan’s voice sounded heavy with exhaustion. “I won’t be able to come home for the next couple of days.” “Vanessa’s mother has terminal cancer. We have been keeping our divorce a secret from her so she doesn’t lose hope. I need to go back to their hometown with them and stay for a few days…” Listening to the hum of the highway tires through the receiver, a hollow laugh escaped my lips. “So your perfect family of three is already on the road, and you are only telling me now?” My chest felt incredibly tight. I pressed end before he could utter another excuse. 2 Declan returned to the city three days later. The very first thing he did was rush to his office to put out corporate fires. By the time he finally got home, the sun was setting. I was just walking through the front door myself. He reached out tentatively, trying to pull me into a hug. Even his embrace felt drained and obligatory. “Thank you for holding the fort these past few days, honey.” I shifted the heavy bags of groceries in my hands, forcing a faint smile. “I have something to tell you. But you look dead on your feet. Go get some sleep first.” Seeing that I wasn’t throwing a tantrum, his shoulders finally dropped. He slipped off his jacket and collapsed into the sofa. “Okay. Whatever my wife is cooking, I am eating every last bite.” He was fast asleep before he even finished the sentence. Playing the devoted son-in-law to a dying woman while taking care of his ex-wife and child must have been truly exhausting. I stood there in the quiet living room, gripping my medical report. I squeezed the paper several times, but in the end, I couldn’t bring myself to wake him. The next day was Saturday. I had lost all appetite for cooking, so I told Declan to take me out. Knowing he was in the wrong, he canceled a string of morning meetings, kept his phone on silent, and spent the entire car ride carefully making small talk. I picked a quiet, upscale sushi lounge. As I set the menu aside, he slid a velvet jewelry box across the table. Inside was a stunning, custom engraved gold bangle. The exact one I had liked on Instagram just yesterday. I snapped the box shut and looked up at him. He didn’t say anything. He just watched me with a soft, indulgent smile. The warm amber lighting of the restaurant softened the sharp angles of his face, making him look incredibly tender. For a fleeting second, my anger began to melt. Maybe it was time to tell him. I pulled my lips into a small smile. “So, I wanted to tell you…” Before the words fully left my mouth, Declan’s eyes darted to his phone screen lighting up on the table. The tenderness vanished, replaced by a flash of annoyance, quickly followed by deep anxiety. “Vanessa has called twenty times. I am worried something happened to Daisy. Let me just step outside and call her back, okay?” He didn’t wait for my answer. He grabbed his phone, pushed his chair back, and hurried out of the private dining room. When he returned, he wore an expression I had memorized by heart. A thin layer of guilt masking a total mental absence. I looked at him standing there, struggling to find the right excuse. I suddenly felt so incredibly tired. “Declan. If you walk out of here today, I promise you will regret it.” “Vivian.” His tone dropped, laced with clear displeasure. “Don’t do this right now. Daisy had a severe allergic reaction and is in the emergency room. Vanessa simply cannot handle this by herself.” A bitter scoff clawed its way out of my throat. “She has no friends? No family? She can’t afford to hire a private nurse?” The guilt in Declan’s eyes evaporated, replaced entirely by cold anger. “I am Daisy’s father! You…” He turned around and walked out to get his coat. He didn’t finish his sentence, but I heard it loud and clear in my head. [She isn’t your kid, so of course your heart doesn’t ache for her.] There was a hierarchy to emergencies in his life. And my matters would never, ever reach the top of his list. A few moments later, the waitress gently opened the sliding door. Seeing that I was completely alone, she pressed her lips together and asked softly, “Miss, would you like boxes for the rest of this? Are you about finished?” I looked up at her. I couldn’t tell if my vision was blurred from the steam of the green tea or the tears welling in my eyes. I gave a slow nod. “Yes. I am about finished.” 3 Later that evening, I called Declan’s number. His ex-wife answered the phone. “Her dad just fell asleep next to Daisy. I will go wake him up.” “Don’t bother. It isn’t important.” Vanessa ignored my dismissal, continuing in a sickeningly sweet tone. “Her dad is just like this. He promised Daisy she would be the only child he ever has, so he spoils her rotten.” Listening to her gloat, my fingers dug into the edge of my pregnancy report. If Daisy was his only child, then what the hell was growing inside my stomach? The very next afternoon, Vanessa showed up at my front door. When I opened it, she gave me a polite, practiced nod. But her eyes immediately darted over my shoulder, critically assessing the house. It was a beautiful two-story brick colonial we had purchased after our wedding. I had designed and decorated every single inch of it myself. Clearly, it wasn’t to her taste. But right now, the only thing I found distasteful was her uninvited presence. “Can I help you?” She pulled her gaze back and offered a thin, calculated smile. “Daisy’s dad is going to wait until her fever breaks before coming home. I came to pack a few changes of clothes for him.” I didn’t blink. I turned my head and called out to my housekeeper. “Martha. Please grab the black duffel bag from his side of the walk-in closet.” When Martha brought it down, I pushed the heavy bag toward Vanessa. “There is enough in there to last him a while.” Vanessa took the handles, eyeing Martha before looking back at me with a complicated expression. “Right.” I reached out to shut the door, but she quickly wedged her hand against the frame. She bit her lower lip, forcing out a quiet, hesitant sentence. “You know, back when we first got married, he promised to build me a little garden just like the one you have out front.” I had no idea why she was telling me this. Did she honestly think I, the woman who met Declan two full years after their divorce, would feel guilty? Martha stepped forward, her face stern. “Mrs. Wright needs to rest now.” Without another word, Martha firmly shut the door in Vanessa’s face. I let out a tired laugh. “Martha, have you been watching too many soap operas? Since when do you call me Mrs. Wright?” Martha had been working for me since before I even got married. She looked at me with deep, protective frustration. “Vivian, you are just too soft! His ex-wife comes marching up to your doorstep. Do you really not see what she is trying to do?” I offered a bitter smile. Of course I saw it. Vanessa using her daughter’s health to blur the boundaries and hint at a reconciliation wasn’t anything new. She had done it dozens of times. “The problem isn’t her.” The problem was Declan. Martha poured me a glass of warm milk. Her eyes drifted down to my flat stomach. She looked completely heartbroken. “You still haven’t told Mr. Wright?” I shook my head. “You stubborn girl.” That night, Declan finally called to ask if I was asleep. “Where are you right now?” I asked quietly. “I am at a hotel near Vanessa’s place. Work has been a nightmare lately, and every time Daisy wakes up and doesn’t see me, she starts crying. I really can’t pull myself away.” His exhausted voice was laced with a desperate need for me to yield. “I know I was in the wrong at the restaurant the other day. I am so sorry. Did you see the transfer I sent you?” I had. That afternoon, a massive sum of money had hit my bank account. It was his classic playbook for buying forgiveness. A lump formed in my throat, choking off my air. “Declan, can you please just come home? I…” He cut me off. His tone was gentle, but the underlying impatience was impossible to miss. “You have always been the understanding one. Just give me a few more days, alright? Go to sleep.” The dial tone echoed in my ear. He had chosen someone else. Again. From the day we started dating, I had been constantly forced to be “understanding.” That single word was a physical weight crushing the breath out of my lungs. To the outside world, Declan was the ultimate catch. Even as a divorced man, he was wealthy, handsome, and fiercely responsible to his child. To me, he was generous and attentive. Our life looked absolutely flawless on paper. Only I knew that beneath the beautiful facade, this marriage was riddled with bullet holes. 4 Declan finally came home at dawn, two days later. I had been working brutal overtime hours, so I took the morning off to catch up on sleep. When I opened my eyes, I found him kneeling beside the bed. One of his hands was wrapped tightly around my wrist, his forehead resting against the mattress. The moment I tried to pull my hand away, he woke up. Declan gently pressed me back down, brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear. His voice was thick with sleep. “You’re awake? Are you feeling sick? What do you want to eat?” I didn’t want to talk to him. I just wanted to get out of bed. He let out a heavy sigh. He stayed on his knees, shifting closer to press a soft kiss to the back of my hand. His eyes were rimmed with red, though I couldn’t tell if it was from exhaustion or crying. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Martha must have lost her patience and told him herself. “I only found out recently myself. Let me up.” He quickly stood to help me sit up against the headboard, his hands lingering carefully on my shoulders. “What are you craving? Martha cooks a bit too salty, so I already hired a specialized maternity nutritionist. Martha will stay on just to keep you company. I also hired a landscaping crew so you don’t have to bend over to prune your flowers anymore. Your job is too stressful. Why don’t you quit and come work at my company?” He kept rambling, listing off arrangements. The crushing fatigue of the past few days seemed completely washed away by the news. He was genuinely happy. But every single arrangement he made was flawlessly efficient. Practiced. Because this wasn’t his first time doing this. A sharp, acidic bitterness pooled in my stomach. Sensing my dark mood, Declan stopped talking. He leaned in, trying to kiss me. When I turned my face away, he grabbed my hand tighter. He placed his other, perfectly warm palm flat against my lower abdomen. His eyes were filled with desperate sincerity. “I know I made you miserable these past few days. But I swear to you…” “I will treat this baby just as well as I treat Daisy.” There was a rare, pleading vulnerability in his gaze. “Please don’t be angry anymore, okay? It isn’t good for your body. You can punish me however you want. Anything you ask, I will do it.” I slowly pulled my hand out of his grip and looked him dead in the eye. “So, are you going to tell Vanessa and Daisy?” The light in his eyes instantly dimmed. His heavy hesitation gave me all the answers I needed. The bitterness in my heart bled into a mocking, frozen smile on my lips. “What? Is our child a dirty secret? Or do you expect me to keep being ‘understanding’?” “Understanding that you will only ever acknowledge Daisy as your child in public?” He panicked, cutting me off. “What do you mean, a secret? The entire company has known you are my wife since the day we got engaged!” I shoved his hand away. He had to grip my shoulders to force me to look at him. “Just wait until the baby is a little older. Maybe one or two years old. When Daisy actually sees her little brother or sister, she will naturally accept them.” My nails dug so hard into my palms they drew blood. I finally screamed at him. “Why the hell should they have to wait?!” Why does a child, born perfectly legally into our marriage, have to wait in the shadows for someone else’s permission to exist? Why do I, a woman who did absolutely nothing wrong, have to constantly pay the emotional tax for his failed marriage? Declan’s eyes turned cold. He tightened his grip on my shoulders, using the same commanding stare he used to subjugate board members at his company. Then, he finally said the words I knew he had been holding in his chest for years. “You knew exactly what my situation was before you married me, Vivian. I never lied to you.” 5 That screaming match ended with us sleeping in separate rooms. It marked the beginning of a suffocating, icy cold war. Between the crushing fatigue of my first trimester and my high-pressure job, I was passing out the second my head hit the pillow every night. But at midnight, the ringtone echoing from the guest room down the hall still woke me up. Even with my door shut tight and the blankets pulled over my head, Vanessa’s drunken, sobbing voice slithered through the cracks. I was used to this too. On my birthday, our anniversary, Valentine’s Day, or Thanksgiving, she always, without fail, found a reason to stage a crisis. I was just about to pull the duvet back over my head when my bedroom door slowly clicked open. Declan stepped quietly into the room, clearly checking to see if I was awake. I sat straight up and stared at him. By some sick coincidence, we were both wearing the matching silk pajamas we bought on our honeymoon. Staring at each other in the dark room, it felt unbelievably pathetic. “Vanessa drank too much again,” he said, breaking the heavy silence. He kept his eyes fixed on the floor. “Daisy is home alone with her. I need to go check on them. I will be back soon.” I looked at the heavy wool coat already draped over his arm. “You know this is going to make me angry, right?” He pressed his lips into a hard line. The days of cold war had left him looking absolutely drained, yet his attitude remained gentle but unyielding. “Don’t overthink this. Daisy is just a little kid. I will be back before you know it. You are pregnant. Just get some rest.” I walked out to the second-floor landing. I gripped the wooden railing and watched the little glass suncatcher hanging by the front door sway gently as he closed the heavy oak door behind him. We had bought that suncatcher on our very first vacation together. Under a sky full of fireworks, he had smiled at me and promised that every single day of our future would be filled with sunlight. But the sun wasn’t going to shine anymore. The next time we stood face to face, I was going to ask for a divorce. 6 Two days later, I finally saw Declan again. Inside a hospital room. And Vanessa was there too. My hospital visit wasn’t a major crisis. I had been rear-ended on my way to work. The doctor simply recommended I stay for a 48-hour observation due to the pregnancy. When Declan burst into my hospital room, the sheer, frantic terror on his face and the explosive rage he unleashed on the poor driver who hit me almost made me forget we were in the middle of a cold war. “I am so sorry.” The driver stood there, looking completely miserable. “I just zoned out for a second. I will cover all the medical bills.” “Who gives a damn about your money?!” Declan practically snarled, cutting the man off. He stared at me with agonizing relief before whipping his head back to the driver. “If anything happens to my wife or my baby, I will destroy your life.” Seeing him play the fiercely protective husband was a jarring, ironic contrast to the sight of his back walking out on me two nights ago. I let out a soft laugh and told the driver he could leave. “The doctor said I am perfectly fine. Besides… Mr. Wright is a very busy man. Who disturbed you enough to bring you all the way down here?” My sarcastic jab made the veins in the back of his hand bulge. “Your dashcam is linked to my cloud account. Vivian, can we please stop fighting?” He opened the thermos of warm soup he had brought with him, pushing it toward me with a pleading look. “You practically scared me to death today.” I was just about to answer when someone knocked on the door. The knock and the door swinging open happened almost simultaneously. It was Vanessa. She also had access to Declan’s vehicle tracking. Because Daisy was “used to her father’s car,” Vanessa borrowed his spare SUV all the time. “Phew, I tracked your car’s GPS all the way here. I had to ask four different nurses to find the right room.” Vanessa panted slightly, pushing the door shut behind her. “Vivian, are you feeling any better?” Declan frowned. He instinctively stepped in front of my bed, shielding me. “What are you doing here?” Vanessa immediately slipped into the tone of a complaining, exasperated wife. “What do you think? You weren’t answering your phone, so I had to track you down. Daisy’s parent-teacher conference is in an hour. You promised her you would go. Did you completely forget?” Realization dawned on Declan’s face. He subconsciously glanced back at me. I let out a sharp, mocking laugh. Hearing that, he pulled back his gaze and shook his head slightly at Vanessa. “You go this time.” Vanessa’s friendly smile vanished. She shot me a dirty look, and her eyes instantly filled with tears of betrayal. “Excuse me? Declan, just because you have a new baby on the way, you are completely abandoning Daisy?!” Before Declan could even open his mouth to defend himself, she steamrolled right over him, playing the fierce protector of her child. “Daisy talks about how much she loves Auntie Vivian every single day! And this is how you two repay her? By pushing her aside like garbage?!” “That is enough!” Declan’s brow furrowed deeply. “My wife was just in a car accident and is under medical observation. Can’t you handle one school meeting by yourself?” “I don’t care!” Vanessa glared at me, her voice breaking into a dramatic sob. “Daisy still doesn’t know you are having a new baby. If you don’t show up today, I am telling her the truth. It is exactly like they say. A stepmother makes a stepfather.” “Get out.” I cut her off with a voice made of pure ice. I clutched my stomach, fighting back a wave of nausea. “Get out of my room.” Vanessa froze. She clearly hadn’t expected me to drop all pretense of politeness. She immediately looked at Declan for backup. Seeing that Declan was already reaching for the nurse call button to have her removed, Vanessa’s face flushed with fury. “Fine! I am leaving. Enjoy your precious bed rest.” The door slammed shut with a deafening crack. I closed my eyes, my voice hollow. “If you want to go with her, go.” Declan grabbed my shoulders, his eyes searching my face desperately. “I will only be gone for two hours, max. If anything hurts, anything at all, you call me immediately. Okay?” He pushed the bowl of soup aside. “This is already cold. I will have them make a fresh batch. Wait for me.” The door clicked shut again. The exact second Declan’s shadow disappeared from the frosted glass window, my phone buzzed. A text message popped up on the screen. [Your appointment for the medical termination has been confirmed.] Declan. This time, no one is going to wait for you.

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  • We Shared a Twin-Destiny System, Then She Was Gone Forever

    1 To save me from terminal cancer, my best friend Sophie and I bound ourselves to the Twin-Destiny System. We successfully captured the hearts of the two Sinclair brothers, becoming the envy of high society. But seven years later, I was left discarded and despised by both my husband and my own son. Meanwhile, Sophie was sent to prison simply for ‘bullying’ her husband’s precious childhood sweetheart. On the day of her release, she looked at me with hollow eyes. “Take care of yourself, Diana.” Then, she sprinted directly into the chaotic traffic. In a heartbeat, a speeding freight truck crushed her delicate frame into a million pieces. … Sophie left this world without a single hesitation. The sheer weight of the agony shattered my mind. The moment I saw her body torn apart on the asphalt, my heart seized, and the world went black. When I finally opened my eyes, the man sitting beside my hospital bed was my workaholic husband. Alexander Sinclair, the untouchable CEO of the Sinclair Empire. It was the first time I had seen him in two months. He shot me a cold, emotionless glance. “You’re awake.” I ignored him entirely, ripping the IV from my arm and stumbling toward the door. In the hallway lounge, his younger brother Sebastian was gently holding a photograph of his childhood sweetheart, his adopted sister Bella. A sickeningly tender smile graced his lips. Seeing their nauseating display of affection brought Sophie’s despair-filled eyes flashing back into my mind. In that instant, every ounce of my rationality burned to ash. I charged forward like a wild animal, lunging at Sebastian and slapping him across the face with everything I had. Bella screamed, jumping to her feet. “Diana! What gives you the right to hit Sebastian?” I answered by driving my palm into her cheek, sending her tumbling onto the leather sofa. “Don’t worry, you little bitch. Your turn is next.” Bella looked up at Sebastian with tear-filled eyes. Her porcelain face was twisted into a mask of pure, pitiful grievance. She whimpered softly. “Sebastian…” Sebastian instantly stepped in front of her, glaring at me. “Diana, have you completely lost your mind? I get it. This is Sophie’s doing. That toxic woman must have poisoned your head with lies again!” That bastard. Protecting his mistress was one thing, but using this moment to trample on Sophie’s name was unforgivable. I swung at him again, landing blow after blow as I screamed, “You drove her to her death, and you still have the nerve to blame her? You murderer! Sophie’s only mistake was not dragging you two vile pieces of trash to hell with her!” Sebastian froze, his face draining of color. “What… what did you just say? Sophie is dead?” Of course. They didn’t know yet. Today was supposed to be the day she left prison, signed the divorce papers, and started a brand new life far away from the Sinclairs. But Bella had deliberately gone to the prison gates to torment her, pushing Sophie into taking that final, fatal step. Alexander grabbed my wrist from behind, his brows knitting in sharp displeasure. “Diana, stop this! Are you insane?” I twisted out of his grip and slapped him squarely across the jaw. In his shocked eyes, I saw the reflection of my own deranged, tear-streaked face. “What? I hit your precious brother, and suddenly you know how to intervene? Where were you when they were teaming up to torture my Sophie? Were you deaf, or just dead?” Alexander’s expression turned glacial. “If she hadn’t used underhanded tactics to drug Sebastian and force him into bed, he never would have looked twice at her. She calculated every step just to climb the social ladder into the Sinclair family. Now that she finally secured her spot as a Sinclair wife, why would she ever kill herself? Diana, stop letting her manipulate you.” Bella chimed in from the sofa. “He’s right. I even heard someone say they saw Sophie walking down the street earlier today. Diana, she’s playing you. You care about her so much, but she’s just using you to tear our family apart. Her intentions are malicious.” A flicker of relief passed through Sebastian’s eyes as he readily swallowed their lies. His anger returned in full force. “I never realized just how deeply manipulative Sophie truly is. Diana, you tell her this for me. If she tries to drive another wedge between us, I will divorce her for real!” Looking at the absolute hypocrisy of these three, a roaring fire consumed my chest. Yes, Sophie had taken advantage of a chaotic situation to accelerate the marriage. But she wasn’t the one who drugged him that night. She offered herself to Sebastian solely to complete the System’s mission faster, desperate to save my life. She only cared about keeping me breathing. She never gave a damn about the Sinclair fortune. But the foolish girl had accidentally fallen in love with a monster. I remembered her blushing face as she once told me, “Diana, marrying Sebastian is the best thing I’ve ever done. I’m going to give him a house full of kids and love him until our hair turns gray!” And in the end? All she got was a heartless betrayal and hair matted with her own blood on the pavement. The pain in my chest was so sharp I could barely breathe. I slapped Alexander one more time, my voice trembling with raw hatred. “If you insult Sophie one more time, I will kill you.” Before the words fully left my mouth, a small shadow launched itself at me like a cannonball, knocking me hard against the floor. It was my seven-year-old son, Oliver. He glared at me with pure venom. “Don’t you dare hit my dad! Get out! We don’t want you here!” 2 Seeing Oliver look at me with the fierce hatred of an enemy felt like a sledgehammer crushing my ribs. Truthfully, Alexander and I never had a grand, sweeping romance. From the very beginning, I knew he didn’t marry me out of love. He only used me to rebel against his controlling mother. And I willingly became his pawn just to secure the life points I needed to survive my cancer. But before we had a child, we actually shared a quiet, respectful life. There were moments of genuine warmth. I had foolishly believed we might grow old together like a normal couple. Everything changed the day Oliver was born. Alexander’s mother took my baby away from me. She claimed a woman of my background was unfit to raise a Sinclair heir. She moved Oliver into the main estate and hired an elite live-in nanny. I was only allowed to visit my own son during strictly scheduled appointments. I begged Alexander, crying until my voice broke, asking him to bring Oliver home. His family only mocked me. I thought my husband would stand up for me. Instead, he looked at me with cold incomprehension. “Do you honestly believe you can provide a better upbringing for him than my parents can?” In his eyes, his son was destined to be molded into a corporate titan, a flawless machine just like him. He never felt that a child needed a mother’s warmth. Nor did he care that a mother needed her child. That was the exact day whatever small affection I had for Alexander Sinclair was completely extinguished. Oliver’s growing coldness and disgust toward me finally erased any reason I had left to stay in this house. If it weren’t for staying close to Sophie, I would have escaped this gilded cage years ago. And now, she was gone. It was time for me to leave the Sinclairs and this house full of monsters behind. Once my mind was made up, I cut all contact with the family. I went straight to the funeral home to handle Sophie’s arrangements. Her body was too shattered to be pieced completely back together. Thankfully, this foolish girl who always loved looking pretty had managed to keep her face relatively intact. After the mortician’s careful work, she looked beautiful and peaceful once again. Hot tears spilled down my cheeks as I stood by her casket. “I’m so sorry, Sophie. If you didn’t have to keep me alive, you never would have married that bastard… Dammit… it should have been me!” That same afternoon, Sophie was moved to the incinerator. I paid the staff extra to let me stay and watch her final moments in this world. I thought I had accepted her death. But watching the roaring flames consume her, a visceral, tearing pain ripped through my soul. Thirty years of memories flashed before my eyes. I saw her smiling face. I heard her sweet, teasing voice. “You’re going to be my best friend forever, right, Diana?” In a split second, something completely snapped inside me. I stood up, stepping toward the raging fire. “I’m right here, Sophie. I’ll come with you.” I lunged toward the incinerator doors, but a strong pair of arms yanked me backward. It was an older staff member. He held me back with a desperate grip. “Don’t do it, kid! Your friend wouldn’t want you throwing your life away like this!” The shock of his voice pulled me back to reality. I raised my hand and slapped myself hard across the face. What the hell was I doing? Sophie’s murderers were still living comfortably. How could I die before making them pay? An hour later, I walked numbly through the corridors of the funeral home, clutching Sophie’s urn to my chest. Suddenly, a sickeningly familiar, melodramatic crying echoed from down the hall. I turned my head and saw Alexander, Sebastian, and Bella standing in a mourning parlor right next to Sophie’s. Bella was weeping hysterically. Sebastian had his arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders, whispering sweet comforts into her ear. So they finally believed Sophie was dead. But to bring his mistress to the funeral home? Did Sebastian want Sophie’s soul to know no peace? I stormed into the parlor, my voice trembling with rage. “Sebastian, you brought this whore here? Do you have no conscience left?” But as I stepped closer, the words died in my throat. They weren’t here for Sophie. In the center of the parlor, surrounded by lavish white flowers, was a framed photograph of a small pet turtle. Bella was cradling a tiny, custom-made urn, crying as if her world had ended. She looked like a fragile, heartbroken victim. Alexander stepped forward, his voice a low, warning growl. “Diana, what kind of psychotic episode are you having now?” His eyes dropped to the black urn pressed tightly against my chest. His brow furrowed. “Why are you here? And what… what is that in your hands?” I let out a bitter, hollow laugh. “What does it look like? Your mother’s ashes?” Alexander was stunned by the venom in my voice. Before he could snap back, Bella sniffled and looked at me with wide, innocent eyes. “Diana, why are you doing this? Don’t tell me you’re still trying to push that lie about Sophie being dead. Nobody here is going to believe you. Just leave. I don’t want strangers ruining Tommy the Turtle’s funeral.” Sebastian immediately chimed in. “She’s right. Diana, get out.” 3 A blinding rage overtook me. I surged forward, slapping the tiny urn right out of Bella’s hands. It shattered on the marble floor. “Your actual wife dies, and you don’t even bat an eye! You mock her! But a damn turtle dies, and you book a luxury parlor and mourn it like it’s your flesh and blood? Sebastian, you make me sick!” Bella let out an ear-piercing shriek. “Ah! Tommy! My Tommy! Diana, why are you so evil?!” I sneered. “I’m evil? Your turtle dying is karma! The ones who deserve to be in these urns are you two!” To my shock, Oliver charged at me, his small face flushed with anger. “You bad woman! Don’t you dare yell at my uncle and Bella! She loves her turtle like family because she has a kind heart! You have no right to be mean to her!” I ground my teeth together. “Shut your mouth, you foolish little brat! Aunt Sophie loved you! She treated you like gold! And you repay her by defending these monsters? You’re just as blind and ungrateful as the rest of this rotten family!” Bella immediately stepped in, playing the saint. “Diana, please, don’t yell at Oliver. I know you hate me. But you can’t help who you fall in love with!” She suddenly stepped closer, grabbing my forearm in a desperate, pleading grip. “I know you resent me, but please, leave us alone! The baby in my womb is innocent. Stop this… I’ll leave Sebastian. I’ll disappear forever.” Alarm bells rang in my head. I tried to yank my arm away, but before I could even apply force, Bella threw herself backward, putting on a pathetic display of being violently shoved. Sebastian’s face went white. He dove forward, catching her before she hit the floor. “Bella!” he screamed in panic. Alexander erupted. He lunged at me, his fingers digging painfully into my arm. “Don’t touch me!” I thrashed against him. Seeing me protect the urn, Alexander’s eyes narrowed in disgust. He forcefully ripped the black box from my grasp. “Even now, you’re still putting on this sick play!” My heart stopped. Before I could scream, I watched helplessly as Alexander hurled Sophie’s urn against the hard floor. The ceramic shattered. The gray ashes spilled across the polished marble. “Alexander, I’ll kill you!” I shrieked, my voice tearing my throat. I dropped to my knees, frantically trying to scoop the dust into my hands. But Oliver ran over and viciously kicked the broken pieces of the urn, scattering Sophie’s ashes even further across the room. All logic vanished. I lunged at the boy, my fingers wrapping tightly around his throat. He stared up at me, his eyes wide with genuine terror as he saw the murderous hatred on my face. Alexander grabbed my wrists, twisting them painfully until I let go. He hauled me up from the floor by my collar. His dark eyes boiled with a lethal fury. “Diana, you laid hands on your own son. You really have gone completely insane. Today, I am going to teach you a lesson you will never forget.” He dragged me forcefully out of the room and shoved me into the dark, silent parlor next door. But as he stepped inside and looked at the empty, shadowy room, he hesitated for a fraction of a second. His grip on my shoulder was bone-crushing. My arm felt like it was being ripped from the socket. Alexander looked at me like I was the most vile creature on earth, pinning me against the wall to force an apology for Bella. “This is your last warning, Diana. If you don’t apologize to Bella right now, I am filing for divorce.” A second later, Sebastian walked into the parlor, carrying a weeping Bella in his arms. He looked down at me like a god showing mercy to a peasant. “Diana, no matter what twisted games Sophie played, she is still technically my wife. If you just get on your knees and sincerely apologize to Bella…” My body shook with absolute fury. I leaned forward and sank my teeth deeply into Alexander’s wrist. He grunted in pain and released me. I darted toward the altar table at the front of the room. I grabbed the black cloth covering the center frame and ripped it away. With a scream, I threw the heavy wooden portrait directly at Sebastian’s face. “You all deserve to die! Every single one of you!” The portrait struck Sebastian hard. “You think I’m lying? Open your damn eyes and look at whose funeral this is!” Blood immediately began to trickle down Sebastian’s forehead. The portrait clattered to the floor, landing face up. Staring back at them was the beautiful, tragic face of Sophie. 4 Sebastian stood frozen, looking as if he had been struck by lightning. His trembling hands slowly reached down to pick up the photograph. “No… no, it’s impossible. How could she be dead? She was only sentenced to three months… I just wanted to teach her a lesson…” Alexander’s expression shifted into profound shock and regret. He looked at me, his mouth opening, but no words came out. Suddenly, Sebastian’s eyes snapped toward the hallway. Pure horror contorted his features. “The urn… the ashes…” I pushed past them, dropping to the floor in the hallway, painstakingly scooping the scattered gray dust back into the broken remnants of the box. Sebastian rushed over, dropping to his knees to help me. I shoved him backward with all my strength. “Get off! You have no right to touch her!” Sebastian stayed kneeling on the marble floor, tears finally spilling down his cheeks. “I’m sorry… God, I’m so sorry…” Just then, Bella clutched her stomach, her face twisting in agony. “Sebastian… my stomach hurts so much… The baby… I think something is wrong with the baby.” Sebastian froze. He looked at me, torn. But after only a second of hesitation, he stood up and lifted Bella into his arms. Look at that. Even knowing Sophie had been burned to ash, he still chose Bella. Bella sobbed against his chest, playing the understanding martyr. “Sebastian, just call an ambulance… I can go to the hospital alone. You… you should stay here with Sophie.” “No,” Sebastian said, his voice tight with worry. “Right now, you are the most important thing.” He shot me a deeply guilty look. “Diana, I’ll take her to the emergency room and come right back.” I didn’t even lift my head. My eyes remained dead and vacant as I continued sweeping the dust into my hands. But as I heard his footsteps fading down the hall, a bitter sorrow washed over me. Sophie gave everything for this man. This was the man she loved. A moment later, Alexander marched Oliver back into the hallway. He forced the boy to his knees in front of me. Oliver seemed to finally realize the gravity of what he had done. He kneeled quietly, his head bowed. I didn’t want to look at either of them. Alexander frowned, his voice stiff and awkward. “I… I didn’t know Sophie was actually… But if she hadn’t tormented Bella in the past, we wouldn’t have assumed she was lying.” I looked up at him. This man, whom time and wealth had treated so kindly, was the same man who once made my heart race. Now, he looked as repulsive as a rat crawling out of a sewer. My voice was dead calm. “Let’s get a divorce.” Alexander flinched. “Are you crazy?” I let out a dry laugh. “You’re the crazy one. What makes you think I’d stay married to you after watching you desecrate Sophie’s remains?” He gestured toward the boy on the floor. “What about Oliver? He’s your son. I thought all you ever wanted was to bring him home and raise him yourself.” I stared at Oliver with absolute disgust. “I don’t want him anymore. He’s nothing but the toxic byproduct of Sinclair genetics.” The cemetery staff finally arrived. I ignored Alexander entirely and followed them to the burial grounds. After Sophie’s plot was sealed, I stood there tracing the outline of her photograph on the cold stone. Remembering the thirty years of laughter we shared, the grief finally swallowed me whole. As I walked out of the cemetery gates, Alexander’s car pulled up. He looked exhausted. He stared at me, his brow heavily furrowed. There was a trace of pity in his eyes, but his words remained clinical. “I understand you are grieving. But Sophie chose to end her own life. You shouldn’t take your anger out on an innocent child. And you shoved Bella. She almost suffered a miscarriage. She’s in the hospital right now trying to save the pregnancy.” I looked at him with ice in my veins. “Did you rush all the way out here just to demand justice for her?” Alexander looked genuinely stung by my tone. “Do you have to speak to me like that? Do you have any idea what my mother would do to you if I hadn’t stepped in to protect you?” Of course. The entire Sinclair family adored Bella. She was the daughter of his mother’s late best friend, the adopted golden child of the estate. And now she was carrying a Sinclair heir. “Are you done?” I asked coldly. “If you’re done, get the hell out of my sight.” I walked past him. He grabbed my arm, pulling me forcefully against his chest. His eyes softened with frustration and helplessness. “Diana, please stop this tantrum. Come home. “I know losing Sophie hurts. But the living are more important than the dead. Don’t you realize I haven’t slept a wink since you left? Oliver regrets what he did. He’s been crying, asking for his mother. “Come home. We will stay by your side. We can heal from this together.” Hearing those words, I actually laughed out loud. I laughed until the tears started falling again. I shoved him away with violent force. “Alexander, what gave you the arrogant delusion that you and your son could ever compare to my Sophie? “Let me tell you the truth. I only married you to stay alive. I never loved you. I certainly don’t love your son. Everything about the Sinclair family makes me physically sick!” Alexander stared at me, completely paralyzed. “What… what did you say?” I turned away. “Go tell your pathetic brother to wait. When his precious baby is finally born, I’ll be sure to deliver a spectacular gift.”

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  • The Night Hall 6 Died: Two Survivors on the Run

    A few days before All Souls’ Day, I was lying in bed binge-watching a show when my roommate suddenly lost her mind and bolted for the door. Terrified that something was wrong, I scrambled after her. “Trust me. Just follow me!” I barely caught up to her in the hallway. Before I could even ask what was going on, she grabbed my wrist and dragged me all the way out of the campus. My stomach was tied in knots of confusion. We crashed at a rundown motel on the edge of town for the night. The next morning, the university’s online forum exploded. [Hall 6 Girls’ Dorm. Everyone is dead!] [Rumor has it… two girls from Room 304 snuck out last night. They might be the only survivors…] My heart slammed against my ribs. My phone slipped from my trembling fingers and clattered onto the cheap carpet. I lived in Room 304. 1 I had been entirely absorbed in my show when Sandra suddenly scrambled out of the room like a maniac. It was past eleven at night. The dorm monitors had already locked the main gates. Where the hell was she going? I couldn’t just let her go alone, so I chased her down. “Sandra, what is going on?” When she turned to me, her face was completely drained of color. I had never seen such pure, unadulterated terror in her eyes. She gripped my hand so hard her nails dug into my skin. “If you trust me, you need to leave with me right now.” “What about the others? We’re just going to leave them?” She let out a guttural whisper. “If we worry about them, we die!” My eyes went wide. The rest of my words were snatched away by the chilling night wind. Sandra practically hauled me across the campus grounds. We ran so fast my lungs burned, gasping for air as I blindly followed her off the school premises. Just as we crossed the campus boundary, I started to turn my head to look back at the iron gates. “Don’t look back!” she screamed. She kept her eyes locked dead ahead. In the dim streetlights, her profile looked as cold as stone. “From this exact second forward, no matter what you hear or what you feel, you do not look back. If you do, I will leave you behind.” The sheer intensity of her threat sent a shiver down my spine. I nodded frantically. “Okay. I won’t look.” We found a cheap, cash-only motel near the edge of town and huddled together for the night. Whatever sleepiness I had back at the dorm was entirely gone. I lay there staring at the water-stained ceiling, my mind racing. After hesitating for what felt like hours, I finally whispered into the dark. “Sandra. What happened tonight?” Why did we have to run? And why couldn’t I look back? Her voice drifted over from the other bed, thick with dread. “Harper… we are hiding from It.” My chest tightened. “Who is… It?” “It is unnamable. Unseeable. Unspeakable.” Before I could press further, Sandra cut me off. “Stop asking questions. Try to sleep. We have a lot of ground to cover tomorrow.” I opened my mouth to argue but eventually swallowed my words. A heavy, suffocating anxiety settled over me. Maybe my brain was overloaded, because the moment I finally drifted off, the nightmares began. In the dream, a grotesque, raspy voice kept whispering in my ear, urging me to return. “Go back to campus. Go back. Do not head west.” A blurred face materialized in the darkness. I stepped forward, curious, but just as the features were about to sharpen into focus, someone slapped my shoulder. I jolted awake. Sandra’s pale, exhausted face hovered over me. “Harper, get up. We need to leave. Now.” I threw on my clothes. I had nothing else to pack except my phone. “What’s wrong? Why the rush?” I asked. Sandra slung her backpack over her shoulder, not even glancing my way. “Something happened. We have to get out of Northwood immediately.” Before I could ask what happened, she was dragging me out the door, heading dead west. She rented a heavily modified motorcycle from a shady garage nearby. She revved the engine, and we tore down the highway at terrifying speeds. In just three hours, we reached the county line. She pulled over at a rundown gas station to buy some cheap snacks. Taking advantage of the break, I finally pulled out my phone and connected to the internet. The moment the university forum loaded, the blood in my veins turned to ice. [Hall 6 Girls’ Dorm. Everyone is dead!] [Rumor has it… two girls from Room 304 snuck out last night. They might be the only survivors…] I lived in Room 304. 2 I stood completely paralyzed, the screen glaring back at me. A delayed wave of sheer horror washed over my body. I couldn’t even bring myself to imagine what would have happened if I had stayed in my bed last night. I scrolled through the thread with trembling fingers. The comment section was a mess of wild theories. Serial killer, gas leak, a cult ritual… Hall 6 had six floors. Eight rooms per floor. Four girls to a room. Last night, over a hundred girls died. The sheer magnitude of the number crushed the air out of my lungs. I was drowning in a sickening mix of terror and grief. I didn’t even notice Sandra walking back until she tapped my head. “Why are you spacing out?” she frowned, looking at my frozen posture. I slowly turned the phone toward her, playing a video someone had uploaded to the forum. The footage was shaky. Hall 6 was surrounded by layers of yellow police tape. Medics and heavily armed police officers were rushing in and out, while crowds of sobbing students and staff stood on the periphery. As Sandra processed the headline and the video, her face went totally blank. It took a long time before she finally blinked. “We need to move. We have to find a place to lay low before the sun sets.” “Sandra… you knew this was going to happen, didn’t you?” I asked, my voice shaking uncontrollably. She gave a stiff nod. Her face remained a mask of chalky white. “And if I did? Could I have stopped it?” I shook my head, desperately wanting to say she was wrong. “We could have called the police. They didn’t have to die for nothing.” A bitter, broken smile touched her lips. “The police? Do you think bullets work on It? Calling them would have just dragged us down into the slaughter. Stop being naive, Harper. We are running for our lives. You have no idea what is hunting us. We couldn’t save them. We can only try to save ourselves.” My shoulders shook as the tears finally spilled over. “Why is this happening? Everything was completely normal yesterday.” She pulled me into a tight hug, gently resting her chin on my head. “We aren’t saviors, Harper. Sometimes, you have to be selfish just to survive.” For the past three years, Sandra wasn’t just my roommate; she was my absolute best friend. When she watched that video, the agony in her eyes was just as intense as mine, but she buried it under a layer of cold survival instinct. After a brief, heavy silence, she pulled back and looked me in the eye. “We have to reach Westbridge as fast as humanly possible. It’s the only place we might actually stand a chance.” “Do you trust me? Are you coming with me?” I wiped my eyes and nodded. “I trust you.” I shoved my swirling questions to the back of my mind. Just as we were about to get back on the bike, my phone started buzzing. Unknown caller. Sandra snatched it from my hand and answered it. She didn’t say a single word. She just listened to whatever was on the other end. A moment later, she ended the call. Her expression had darkened considerably. I watched her take a deep, steadying breath. “Let’s go. We can’t afford to stop anymore.” I nodded, reaching for my phone, but she pulled it away. Right in front of my eyes, she popped the SIM cards out of both our phones, snapped them in half, and hurled the devices deep into the overgrown ditch by the road. She didn’t even look at me as she explained, anticipating my panic. “Phones carry our traces. It uses them to pinpoint our location. And we’re going to have to lose a lot more than just our phones.” Her words made sense an hour later. We stopped at an independent thrift store miles away from Northwood. We bought entirely new outfits and tossed our old clothes directly into a dumpster behind a diner. Shoes, jackets, backpacks, everything was replaced. Sandra even ditched her leather wallet, stuffing the loose cash into her new pockets. I climbed back onto the motorcycle, wrapping my arms around her waist. “If we change our stuff, will It lose our scent?” I yelled over the engine. “For a little while,” she shouted back. “We broke out of Its domain. It can’t track us perfectly outside of it.” I understood what she wasn’t saying. This blind spot wouldn’t last forever. Every second It spent searching for us was precious time we had to use to cover ground. Time was bleeding away. We were locked in a literal race against death. 3 I still had no idea what this Entity actually was. But anything that could wipe out an entire dormitory in a single night and force us into a desperate cross-country run had to be something out of a nightmare. I remembered what Sandra had said. Unnamable. Unseeable. Unspeakable. My heart skipped a beat. Just as the thought crossed my mind, that disgusting, raspy voice from my dream hissed right into my ear. “Come back. Do not go west. Come back. Come back right now…” It felt like needles driving into my brain. I buried my face into the back of Sandra’s jacket, clamping my eyes shut and trying to drown out the noise. I lost track of time. It wasn’t until Sandra finally killed the engine that the whispers slowly dissolved into the wind. She grabbed her new bag and turned to me. “We’re on foot from here on out.” I looked around. We were standing on the edge of an abandoned industrial refinery. Ahead of us was a murky creek, flanked by thick, overgrown wildgrass. I didn’t argue. Any questions I had would have to wait until we were safe. I trudged behind Sandra for what felt like miles. We only stopped once to choke down some dry granola bars and gulp warm water. Thank god I used to jog every morning before classes. If I didn’t have that stamina, I would have collapsed in the dirt hours ago. The further we walked, the sparser the vegetation became. Nestled against a cluster of jagged boulders, I spotted a crude, makeshift shelter built out of dried sagebrush and woven branches. It was primitive, but it was our safe house for the night. The moment we stepped inside, the rigid tension in Sandra’s shoulders finally dropped. A thin layer of cold sweat coated her forehead. I handed her a tissue to wipe her face as I inspected the hut. There were no beds, just piles of dried straw on the dirt floor. To me, it looked like a five-star hotel. I collapsed onto the straw, chewed on a piece of stale bread, and finally asked, “Sandra, what exactly are we running from?” A shadow of pure terror flickered in her eyes at the mention of It. She took a tiny bite of her food, chewing slowly, buying time. “It’s not something bound by the laws of science or nature.” I nodded, urging her to keep going. “This shelter… the herbs used to weave these walls were brought in from Westbridge. They mask our presence. Harper, I can’t give you a scientific breakdown of what It is.” “All you need to know is that we cannot look back. We cannot actively think about It. We cannot describe It. If we do, we establish a connection. We act as a beacon.” I swallowed hard, my throat sandpaper-dry. “Then… how did It kill all those girls?” “Because It possesses a domain,” Sandra said, her voice dropping to a terrified whisper. “Once Its domain is cast, everything inside belongs to It. That’s why we had to run. Harper, inside Its domain, It is a god. Snuffing out a hundred lives is as easy as breathing.” A domain. I stared into the dark. The way she described it… It sounded like some ancient, eldritch deity. A heavy sigh broke the silence. “I don’t know who on the sixth floor summoned It. By the time I felt the shift in the air, the only thing I could do was grab you and run. Harper, It had already descended. The dorm became Its feeding ground. We are just human. We had no choice but to run. Please, stop blaming yourself.” She was trying to comfort me, knowing that the guilt of leaving the others behind was eating me alive. Her words managed to soothe the ache a little. I squeezed her hand. “I know. Thank you.” If Sandra hadn’t dragged me out of that room, I would be a corpse on a stretcher right now. But my mind kept spinning. How did Sandra know so much about It? Just as I opened my mouth to ask, a bizarre, sickeningly sweet voice echoed from right outside the woven walls. “Sandra? Harper? Come out, it’s time for class.” It was the voice of the girl who lived next door to us. Sandra’s hand turned instantly to ice. 4 We both stopped breathing. A million invisible spiders crawled up my spine. I forced down the scream building in my throat and locked eyes with Sandra. She gave me a microscopic shake of her head. Do not make a sound. The voice outside continued, upbeat and terribly normal. “Guys, seriously, why aren’t you coming out? We’re going to be late! The professor is going to dock our grades!” That girl was dead. I knew she was dead. So what the hell was standing on the other side of that door? But the voice wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was that the crude wooden door of the shelter was slowly creaking open. An unnatural, freezing wind pushed against the wood. I sat completely paralyzed as the crack widened… and widened… The door was fully open. I could almost see the silhouette of the “student” standing in the gloom. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the silhouette’s mouth stretching into a horribly wide, impossible smile. Smack! Right before I could look directly at the thing, Sandra slammed her hand against the side of my head, forcing my face down. She breathed into my ear, “Do not look up. Do not look at It.” My heart felt like it was going to explode. How did It find us so fast? Because we didn’t answer, the thing outside shifted tactics. The voice warped, melting into the whiny, playful tone of a freshman who lived below us. “Harper, can I borrow your black dress? I really, really love it.” “Harper, why are you ignoring me? I brought you cupcakes. Come out and get them.” “Harper, let’s go downtown to take photos! Just look up at me. Just look at me!” Line after line. It was wearing the voices of my dead friends like cheap Halloween masks, trying to bait me into acknowledging it. Every word It spoke only solidified the horrific reality that my friends had been slaughtered. I clamped my hands over my ears, squeezing my eyes shut. I only had one thought left in my head. I have to live. I have to survive this. The voices kept going for hours, but for some reason, the thing never crossed the threshold. It was as if an invisible barrier kept It at bay. It wasn’t until dawn, when the first slivers of morning light pierced the shelter, that the voices finally evaporated. We had stayed awake all night. When I finally spoke, my voice was cracked and raw. “It’s… gone.” Sandra lifted her head. Her exhausted eyes were fixed on the bottom frame of the doorway. Over the course of a single night, the woven herbs at the threshold had completely rotted away, turned to black ash. “The ward is broken. It’s useless now,” Sandra said, scrambling to her feet. “We have to leave. Right now.” Our safe house had lasted less than twelve hours. We moved with practiced efficiency. Within minutes, we were back on the road. We had barely covered a few miles when a massive explosion ripped through the air behind us. I instinctively threw myself into the dirt. Sandra dropped beside me, her whole body shaking violently. Through chattering teeth, she whispered, “They… they’re here too.” I looked back. The shelter we had just slept in was nothing but a crater of roaring flames and thick black smoke. Besides the Entity, there was another group hunting us? My brain scrambled to put the pieces together, but survival overrode logic. “Run!” We screamed it at the exact same time and scrambled to our feet, sprinting wildly into the brush. We broke through the tall grass and found ourselves staring at an abandoned, rusted oil pipeline cutting through the landscape. “Follow me. Stay close to the pipe,” Sandra commanded. She took the lead, and I trailed closely behind, scanning our surroundings. If we took a bus or a train from Northwood to Westbridge, it would be a two-day trip at most. On foot, through the wilderness, it would take at least a week. And that was assuming we barely slept. I tried to visualize the map in my head. If we followed this pipeline and crossed the rolling hills ahead, we would hit the Westbridge county line. While I was doing the math, an unnatural screeching wind filled my ears. Ahead of me, Sandra’s jacket whipped violently in the gale. My survival instinct flared. “Sandra, get down!” A terrifying gust of wind roared up from behind us. We flattened ourselves against the cold steel of the pipeline, feeling an immense, crushing pressure wash over our bodies.

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  • The Runaway Bridegroom: A Text on the Night Before

    The day before our wedding, my fiancé entirely skipped the rehearsal. Later that night, my phone buzzed with a text from him. [Sophie is pregnant. The baby is not mine.] [But I need to get a marriage certificate with her first. Her hyper-conservative family will disown her if she has a child out of wedlock. I have to give the baby my name on paper.] [We need to postpone our wedding for three years. Do not contact me during this time.] [Figure out a way to explain this to our parents. Whatever you do, do not ruin Sophie’s reputation. Just tell them you got cold feet.] I stared at the glowing screen. My fingers moved mechanically, typing a single word. [Okay.] It was the truth, anyway. I really did not want to marry him anymore. 1 Almost immediately after his text, his childhood best friend posted an update on Instagram. It was a picture of two hands intertwined, wearing matching platinum bands, forming the shape of a heart. Inside the heart rested an ultrasound scan. Seven weeks pregnant. The caption read: [He said he would give us a home.] The comments section was flooded with mutual friends congratulating them, saying they finally made it official, promising huge wedding gifts tomorrow. Not a single person mentioned me. It was as if tomorrow’s wedding had always belonged to the two of them, and I was just a ghost who had never existed. A bitter smile touched my lips. I double-tapped the picture to like it. Then, I left a comment. [Wishing you a lifetime of happiness together.] My comment blended perfectly into the sea of blessings. It did not stand out at all. But less than a minute later, my comment was deleted. My phone rang immediately. Lucas’s voice came through the speaker, dripping with impatience and irritation. “Valerie, what is your problem? Are you trying to cause a scene?” Words completely failed me. “I am not causing a scene. I was genuinely wishing you both happiness.” But Lucas was completely deaf to my sincerity. He was entirely convinced I was out for blood. “Give me a break. Do you think I do not know your true intentions?” “Everyone knows tomorrow was supposed to be our wedding! You jumping in with that passive-aggressive comment was just a calculated move to make Sophie look like a joke!” “Apologize to her right now! She has been crying non-stop because of what you wrote!” Through the receiver, I could hear the faint, pathetic sound of a woman sobbing. “Forget it, Lucas! It is my fault for asking you to help me. I will just book an appointment tomorrow and terminate the pregnancy! So what if I can never be a mother? It is better than being branded a homewrecker!” Lucas’s tone instantly melted into something sickeningly sweet. He began coaxing her like a fragile child. “Sophie, stop it. You are not a homewrecker. Once we sign those papers tomorrow, we will be legally married. A real, recognized couple!” “Do not listen to her thoughtless garbage. If anyone dares to mock you, I will ruin them!” Sophie only wailed louder. “But what about Valerie? Her heart must be breaking! I should really just get rid of the baby so your wedding can go on…” Lucas’s voice grew even softer, laced with frantic worry. “Sophie, please. I already worked everything out with her. She just has to wait three years and she will get exactly what she wants. It is not like I am disappearing forever.” “Please stop crying. You are going to upset the baby.” “And if you ruin your beautiful eyes, how are you going to be the most gorgeous bride tomorrow?” A watery giggle finally broke through Sophie’s tears. Lucas let out a heavy sigh of relief. When he addressed me again, his tone was slightly less hostile. “Valerie, why are you staying quiet? Apologize to Sophie right now.” My nails dug into my palms. I hated myself for having the momentary weakness to comment on her post. But I had done nothing wrong. Why should I be the one to grovel? “And if I say no, Lucas?” He froze for a second before his voice spiked in disbelief. “Valerie, if you keep throwing this tantrum, things are going to get very ugly! Sophie is pregnant. Her hormones are all over the place, and you are deliberately making her cry. You are being completely unreasonable!” “Fine, if you will not apologize, you can make up for it with your actions. Call all our friends and relatives immediately and tell them you are the one who backed out!” As if terrified I would refuse, he abruptly ended the call. Seconds later, a text popped up. [Valerie, I am begging you. Stop making a scene. I am just signing a piece of paper with Sophie. It means absolutely nothing. Delaying our wedding is just my way of making sure you get the perfect, dream wedding you deserve at a more suitable time.] A suitable time. Those familiar words stung my eyes until they watered. What exactly was a suitable time? I had listened to that exact excuse for eight years. I had waited nearly three thousand days and nights for him to marry me. And my reward was watching him become another woman’s legal husband. Lucas, I am done waiting. Because we are completely unsuitable for each other. Suddenly, the message disappeared. He unsent it. A new one arrived. [I had to unsend that. It is not good for Sophie to see it. She is pregnant and overthinks things easily. Just do what I asked. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you after these three years!] A dry laugh scraped its way up my throat. I stared at the screen for two minutes. Right on cue, he unsent that message as well. So, was he lying to me or lying to himself? If he was purely helping Sophie out of the goodness of his heart, why was he so terrified of her seeing his promises to me? If the child in her belly truly was not his, he was certainly going to extreme lengths to protect her. But what if the baby was his? 2 I shook my head, forcing the sickening thoughts away. I casually typed the word ‘Okay’ and hit send. A red exclamation mark bounced back at me. He had already blocked me to appease his new bride. Good. It did not bother me. I opened Instagram, crafted a brief post announcing the cancellation of my wedding, and hit publish. My phone immediately blew up. My notifications were a flood of shocked questions. Not wanting to drag out the drama, I stuck to Lucas’s script. I replied to a few close friends saying I simply felt it was too early to settle down. My friends flooded my inbox, calling me an absolute fool. “Valerie, Lucas is not that broke college kid who lived in a basement anymore. He is a successful tech founder now. Women are throwing themselves at him! If you cancel the wedding, you are basically wrapping your man up in a bow and handing him to someone else!” I did not reply to any of them. Because Lucas was already someone else’s man. Shortly after I posted my announcement, Sophie sent me a picture of their freshly signed marriage license via a direct message. Her tone was dripping with smug victory, disguised as gratitude. [Thank you so much for the assist, Valerie! Lucas and I were originally going to the courthouse tomorrow, but he wanted to cheer me up, so he pulled some strings and got it done tonight!] I did not dignify her with a response. I deleted the message and blocked her instantly. My phone vibrated violently. It was my mother. “Are you out of your mind?!” she screamed into the receiver. “You helped plant the tree, and now you are letting someone else eat the fruit? What are you trying to prove? When you finally decide you want to marry him, he might not even want you!” I let out a soft, hollow laugh. “What if he is the one who does not want to get married, Mom?” She paused for a second before her voice grew even more furious. “Then it means you are not doing your job right! Swallow your pride, go to him, and talk sweetly. Do not throw away eight years of your youth just to walk away with absolutely nothing!” Eight years. I had loved Lucas for eight years. He always told me a man needed to establish his empire before starting a family. But when he finally built his empire, bought the penthouse, and got the luxury cars, giving me a home was no longer his priority. It was not that I had not fought for us. Fighting was just useless. For eight years, I built his tech startup with him from the ground up. I lived in a damp basement, ate instant noodles, and swallowed my pride to tell him a million times that my only dream was to be his wife, whether we were rich or poor. I had even terminated three pregnancies for him. All because he claimed the timing was wrong and he could not bear the thought of his children living in poverty. I loved him, so no matter how much it shattered my soul, I obeyed his wishes. Just like tonight. When he said he wanted to marry his childhood friend. In that moment, alongside the agonizing heartbreak, I actually felt a profound sense of relief. Not getting married meant I no longer had to wait in the dirt for him to throw me a crumb of commitment. My mother was still rambling on about how women who knew how to act fragile got the best lives. The suffocating weight in my chest suddenly vanished. I no longer felt the need to explain my pain. “Mom, the wedding is off. I am never marrying him.” I ended the call and dialed the wedding planner to cancel everything for tomorrow. The planner went dead silent before speaking hesitantly. “Mr. Mercer already called to discuss this. But he told us to carefully store all the custom backdrops, the floral arrangements, and the personalized posters for three years. That is going to be incredibly difficult. Those materials are meant for one-time use.” Clarity hit me like a physical blow. It was not that Lucas lacked the time to notify our guests. He just did not want to deal with their questions. And he truly believed that I, much like those cheap, artificial decorations, would just sit in a dark room and wait for him for three years. “Throw it all in the dumpster,” I said coldly. “Even if it could be saved, it will all be rotten in three years.” Just like his love for me. It would rot away with time. I hung up and stared at Lucas’s mother’s contact name. My head throbbed. She absolutely despised Sophie. If she found out her son had legally married that girl, she would likely have a stroke. Taking a deep breath, I opened my banking app and wired the entire one hundred and fifty thousand dollar wedding fund she had gifted me straight back into her account. I counted to three in my head. My phone rang. “Valerie, why did the money bounce back to my account?” “Mrs. Mercer, Lucas and I are calling off the wedding for now. I am moving abroad for three years.” Even though I was technically following Lucas’s script, his highly perceptive mother instantly smelled blood. “Did Lucas do something to betray you? I am going to his apartment right now! The wedding is happening tomorrow, no matter what!” “Mrs. Mercer, the wedding really cannot happen.” But she had already hung up. Well, Lucas would just have to figure out how to handle his own mother. It was time for me to pack my bags and leave. 3 The lavishly decorated bridal suite was suffocating. Every tiny detail represented my foolish hopes for our future. Now, they were just jagged blades slicing into my chest. I did not have much to take. My clothes barely filled a single suitcase. But I had a lot to throw away. By the time I finished hauling trash bags to the chute, I realized I had missed several calls from Lucas. I did not need to be a genius to guess he was furious I had failed to pacify his mother. I dropped my keys on the entryway console. I grabbed the final item, a massive, heavy glass-framed wedding portrait, intending to haul it out the door. But the moment I swung the front door open, I collided directly into Lucas. The heavy frame slipped from my fingers and crashed onto the hardwood floor, shattering into a thousand pieces. A sharp shard of glass sliced deeply into my ankle, sending a rush of dark blood down my skin. Lucas immediately pulled the woman standing behind him into his chest, shielding her perfectly. He glared at me, his voice sharp with reprimand. “Valerie, what is wrong with you? Did you not see Sophie standing right there? What if you had hurt her?” He completely missed the blood pooling around my foot. Instead, he crouched down to meticulously brush away a microscopic speck of glass that had landed on Sophie’s designer shoe. I had no energy to watch him play the devoted husband to another woman. I gripped my suitcase handle and stepped forward. He caught sight of the luggage out of the corner of his eye. He shot up in a panic and grabbed my arm. “Valerie, where do you think you are going?” Before I could speak, his phone started ringing. I glanced at the screen. It was his mother. He answered it with an exasperated sigh. “Yes! I know! It is not canceled! I will calm her down! Just stop worrying!” He hung up and turned his demanding gaze on me. “Valerie, my mom says the wedding tomorrow has to proceed as planned.” “I refuse to upset her, so everything is back on. But I need you to be a runaway bride.” “My mother adores you. If you are the one who leaves me at the altar, she will not blame me. Then I can just tell her I married Sophie in a moment of heartbreak and spite.” My eyes widened. I stared at the man I had loved for almost a decade, completely unable to process how someone could be this utterly devoid of a soul. But then I remembered he was already Sophie’s husband. Nothing he said or did should surprise me anymore. Since I was leaving anyway, I figured I would grant him one final, pathetic favor. “Okay.” Perhaps my absolute compliance finally cleared his vision. He finally registered the shattered wedding portrait on the floor. And then he saw my blood-soaked foot. His eyes turned violently red. Panic washed over his face as he sprinted into the apartment to grab the first-aid kit. The second he was out of earshot, Sophie lifted her chin, staring at me with a triumphant, mocking smirk. “Valerie, you are truly pathetic. You know I am legally his wife, yet you still want to put on a white dress and play pretend tomorrow?” “So what if his mother hates me? No matter how much she tries to stop it, she is going to have to watch her precious son marry me!” “Tomorrow’s wedding belongs to me! Lucas is my man!” “And you? You will just be the joke of the century. The pathetic ex who got dumped at the finish line!” “Do not bother dreaming about him divorcing me in three years either. Because.” She gently rested a hand on her flat stomach, her smile turning venomous. “The baby in my belly is his flesh and blood.” I lowered my eyes to hide the sudden, violent surge of tears. So, my instincts were right. Lucas had betrayed me. And he treated me like an absolute idiot, expecting me to sit on a shelf for three years while he played house with his new family. Doing the math, Sophie’s baby was conceived on the night Lucas did not come home. It was the first time in eight years he had ever forgotten my birthday. He claimed he had a critical networking dinner. He came home the next morning, drowning in apologies. That was the morning he proposed to me. He promised me a fairy-tale wedding. I had waited eight years for that ring. Pure joy had instantly smothered all my doubts and suspicions. But that night, he forgot to lock the bathroom door while taking a shower. When I walked in to grab a towel, I saw the raw, fresh scratch marks dragging down his back. When I confronted him, he did not even blink. He calmly explained a stray cat had attacked him in an alley. He even pulled up a digital receipt showing he had gone to a clinic for a rabies shot. I forced myself to swallow the lie. But a woman’s intuition is a terrifying thing. Even as I planned our dream wedding, a cold dread sat heavily in my chest. Nothing felt real. A quiet voice in the back of my mind kept whispering that his sudden proposal was nothing more than a guilt offering. I played the ostrich. I buried my head in the sand, too terrified to seek the truth. But the lingering paranoia drove me to quietly track his movements. When I caught him claiming to meet clients while his GPS sat securely at Sophie’s apartment, I knew the end was coming. I was just waiting for him to finally put the knife in my chest. So, when he skipped the rehearsal, I did not call. When he texted me about marrying Sophie, I did not complain. “Excuse me.” I had zero desire to waste my breath on his mistress. I just wanted to leave. But just as Lucas stepped out of the bathroom with the medical kit, Sophie suddenly lunged forward, grabbed my wrist, and forcefully threw herself backward into the pile of shattered glass. 4 “Valerie, I know you hate me, but why would you push me?!” “Ah! My stomach. my baby. it hurts so much.” Sophie held up her hand, her palm sliced open and bleeding. Lucas dropped the medical box and sprinted across the room, his face a mask of absolute terror and heartbreak. “Sophie, it is okay, do not panic! I am taking you to the ER right now!” He scooped her into his arms, practically flying toward the door. Before crossing the threshold, he stopped, turning his head to shoot me a look of pure, frozen hatred. “Valerie, I never knew you could be this evil. Actually laying your hands on a pregnant woman!” “If anything happens to her baby, we are completely finished.” I watched his retreating back, my voice barely a whisper in the empty room. “We were finished a long time ago.” By the time I finished sweeping up the bloody glass, the cut on my ankle had stopped bleeding on its own. But the gaping wound in my chest was still raw and mutilated. A suffocating knot of anger burned in my throat. I pulled out my phone and dialed the other majority shareholders in our tech company. When I announced I was liquidating my entire 30 percent equity stake immediately, they were practically foaming at the mouth. I told them it was a blind auction. Highest bidder takes it all tonight. Thirty minutes later, I was sitting in a local diner, signing a legally binding transfer agreement with Marcus, our CTO. Marcus was brilliant and highly ambitious, but Lucas had always kept him on a short leash, paranoid about losing control. With my shares, Marcus would instantly become the majority shareholder of the company. I truly hoped Lucas enjoyed the little wedding gift I left for him. My phone vibrated again. It was the wedding planner. He sounded furious. “Ms. Wan, what kind of game are you two playing? First you cancel, then he calls saying the wedding is back on! But everything is already in the dumpster because you told me to throw it out! What am I supposed to do at two in the morning?!” I felt a pang of guilt for making the man’s life miserable, but this was not my circus anymore. I apologized sincerely and offered a solution. “Lucas and I are absolutely not getting married. I will not ask for a refund for the decorations. If Lucas insists on having a wedding tomorrow, tell him he has to pay a rush fee and order an entirely new setup.” “He is going to murder me!” “Do not worry. He will pay the invoice.” Because he was genuinely desperate to give Sophie a perfect day. By the time I hung up, it was 2:00 AM. I abandoned the idea of going to my mother’s house to say goodbye. I hailed a cab and checked into a hotel near the airport. The planner texted me a quick thank you, confirming that while Lucas was enraged, he had indeed wired a massive rush fee. I smiled, set an alarm, and instantly fell into a dead sleep. I had no idea my phone was being relentlessly bombarded by Lucas. I ended up blocking his number and powering down my phone to sleep in peace. Until the sound of fists hammering violently against my hotel room door woke me. “Valerie! Open the door!” Hearing Lucas’s muffled rage, I suddenly realized I had forgotten to turn off my location sharing. His voice was shaking with fury. My mind instantly flashed to Sophie’s theatrical fall into the glass. Did she actually lose the baby? Or was he here to tear me apart for selling my shares to Marcus? A second later, the heavy wooden door was practically kicked off its hinges. Lucas stormed in, his eyes bloodshot and unhinged. He grabbed my arm and violently dragged me toward the hallway. “Sophie lost the baby because of you! They had to remove her uterus to save her life! How the hell are you sleeping right now?!” I struggled against his iron grip, fighting back. “I did not push her! She threw herself backward on purpose!” Lucas shoved me brutally into the passenger seat of his car. “That was her only chance to ever be a mother! Do you really think she would murder her own child just to frame you?!” He locked the doors and drove like a maniac through the empty city streets, dragging me straight into the sterile halls of the hospital. He dragged me into Sophie’s private recovery room and forcefully shoved me to the floor beside her bed. “Apologize to Sophie! And you are going to promise to carry a child for her as compensation!” My knees slammed into the freezing hospital tiles. Pain shot up my legs. I tried to scramble to my feet, but Lucas clamped a heavy hand down on my shoulder, pinning me in place. “Are you mute? Apologize to her! Now!” I swallowed the bile rising in my throat and forced out every word clearly. “I did not touch her. If you do not believe me, go ask our neighbor for their doorbell camera footage!” The neighbor’s camera pointed directly at our open doorway. It would have captured her entire pathetic performance. But he refused to believe me. “Valerie, you disgust me! Do you realize what you took from her? The baby is gone, and her uterus is gone!” “She is being merciful enough not to press criminal charges! She only wants an apology, and you are still being a stubborn bitch?” “You destroyed her ability to be a mother. Giving her a child is the absolute bare minimum you owe her! Consider it payback for secretly selling my company out from under me tonight!” Ah. The absolute bare minimum. And here I thought the love of his life losing an organ would be his only concern. Yet, he still managed to rank his precious 30 percent equity right alongside her tragedy. It proved exactly how deeply he truly loved her. Tears of hysterical laughter pricked my eyes. I looked at the floor and whispered three words. “I am sorry.” Lucas finally released his crushing grip on my shoulder. He tossed a legal document in front of me and ordered me to sign it. He was utterly delusional. Did he seriously think my signature on a piece of paper meant I would actually become a surrogate for his mistress? But I wanted to leave this nightmare immediately. I scribbled my name without reading a single line. Lucas pulled me up by my arm, his eyes a swirling mess of conflicting emotions. “I cannot risk you ruining anything else today. You are going to have to stay put for a little while.” “And keep your mouth shut about Sophie losing the baby.” It was not until the heavy click of a deadbolt echoed through the door that I realized he had locked me inside an abandoned hospital storage closet. He had locked me in a cage so he could go marry his mistress in peace. I hammered my fists against the heavy door and screamed until my throat bled. Finally, a passing janitor heard the noise and unlocked the door. I glanced at the clock. My flight was boarding soon. I sprinted out of the hospital, jumped into a taxi, and sped toward the airport. Just as I was scanning my boarding pass, Lucas’s mother called. “Valerie, where are you? Why did Lucas just announce that you ran away from the wedding? Why is he standing at the altar with Sophie?!” Before I could even answer, the loud airport intercom echoed through my phone speaker, announcing the final boarding call for my flight. “Valerie, are you at the airport? Today is your wedding day! Where do you think you are going?” “Mrs. Mercer, today is Lucas and Sophie’s wedding. It has absolutely nothing to do with me.” Without even hanging up the phone, she turned and started screaming at Lucas, demanding to know if he had abused me. Through the line, I heard Lucas shouting back over the crowd. “Mom, Sophie is pregnant! You are finally going to have a grandson!” I expected his mother, who had been begging for a grandchild for years, to burst into joyful tears. Instead, her voice ripped through the speakers in an earth-shattering roar. “Bullshit! That girl had her uterus surgically removed when she was eight years old! What the hell is she pregnant with?!”

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  • The Price of Priority Parking

    To facilitate my dialysis treatments, I rented the most expensive, exclusive parking spot closest to the hospital. But my wife’s childhood friend always, on rainy days, with red-rimmed eyes, begged me to give him the spot, claiming his asthma meant he couldn’t get wet. I refused: “There’s a public parking lot nearby. It’s just a few extra steps. Why do you need to take mine?” When my wife found out, she was furious: “Can’t you be a little kinder? His asthma flared up; he nearly died on the road!” I didn’t understand: “He has a car, yet he chooses to get soaked in the rain just to take my spot. How is that my fault? Besides, it’s an exclusive spot; I paid for it, first come, first served.” My wife fell silent: “I’m sorry, I was too anxious.” For the next few months, she drove me to and from appointments, rain or shine. But on the day I suffered acute kidney failure and desperately needed emergency treatment, she drove me around for three hours, deliberately missing the crucial window for treatment. On the hospital’s large screen, she was seen embracing her childhood friend, a cold smile on her face: “Didn’t you say ‘first come, first served’? Now there are no beds available in the dialysis unit. I’d like to see how long your life has to wait in line.”

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  • While I Buried My Mother, She Married Her Assistant

    1 My mother passed away in a sudden, tragic accident. Yet, just a day before her funeral, my wife was busy traveling back to her young assistant’s rural hometown to marry him. When I confronted her, she looked at me as if I were the one being unreasonable. “His mother is terminally ill, Arthur. Her dying wish is to see him get married. I am just helping him out. It is not like we are actually going to sleep together. Why are you acting so hysterical?” But when I called her that night, her young assistant, Noah, was the one who answered the phone. “She is already exhausted from the trip, Arthur. She is fast asleep right now. If you need something, just tell me.” I sat in the suffocating silence of my living room for a long moment before quietly ending the call. Early the next morning, my wife called. “I am going to go through with the wedding ceremony with Noah today. Just postpone your mother’s funeral for a few days.” I did not say a word. I simply hung up, buried my mother in silence, and then picked up the phone to call my lawyer. “Please draft the divorce papers.” Stella never showed up on the day of the funeral. Swallowing my grief, I handled everything alone. From carrying the casket to lowering it into the cold earth. My mother had worked tirelessly her entire life, and in death, I refused to let her suffer any more indignity. I handled every detail personally, my hands trembling but resolute. The guests offered their condolences, but my uncles were visibly furious. “Missing an event this massive? Not even showing her face? How cold-blooded can she be?” “Let us go down to her parents’ house! I want to ask them exactly how they raised such a daughter!” Their anger boiled over, and they were ready to storm her family estate. I stepped in front of them, gently shaking my head. “Do not bother. It is not worth it.” That morning, I had already seen Stella’s social media updates. She was drowning in the rustic romance of a country wedding. Why would she spare a single thought for a funeral? Her heart had checked out of our marriage a long time ago. Having her here would only poison the air. My mother’s farewell did not need the presence of someone utterly devoid of a soul. The heavy mahogany casket gradually disappeared beneath the dirt. I took the shovel from one of the gravediggers, scooped up a pile of damp earth, and let it fall gently over the wood. The only person in this world who loved me unconditionally was gone forever. When the service ended, I sent Stella a text. [The funeral is over.] The message sank like a stone in an endless ocean. No reply. Maybe she was too busy to see it. Maybe she saw it and just could not be bothered to type a response. It did not matter anymore. Because I no longer cared. After seeing off the last of the guests, I contacted a top-tier family law firm, explained my situation, and officially retained a lawyer to dissolve my marriage. The moment I stepped through my front door, my phone buzzed with a video message from Noah. The screen filled with the sights and sounds of a boisterous barn wedding. It was incredibly loud, draped in floral arrangements and rustic lights, every face in the background flushed with celebration. Noah’s voice bled through the speaker, dripping with a sickening blend of triumph and fake pity. “Oh man, it is such a shame you are not here, Arthur. Look at this. I told Stella we did not need to go all out, but she insisted. Cost an absolute fortune.” I let out a flat, hollow noise of acknowledgment and moved to hang up. But then the camera panned. There, standing in the center of the frame, was Stella. She was wearing a stunning white bridal gown, her face glowing with a sweet, radiant happiness I had not seen directed at me in years. “Look over here, babe,” Noah coaxed. Stella turned her head. When she realized he was recording a video to send to me, she did not flinch. She did not try to hide. Instead, she waved enthusiastically. “Hey honey! The country aesthetic is actually gorgeous! It is such a pity your mom passed away right now. Otherwise, you could have come down and joined the fun.” Joined the fun? The phone rattled against my shaking palm. So, in her eyes, the tragic death of the woman who gave me life was nothing more than an inconvenient schedule conflict that kept me from attending my own wife’s fake wedding. 2 Looking back, Stella and I had walked side by side for eight long years. Just last year, I had secretly counted my blessings, relieved that we had smoothly sailed past the dreaded seven-year itch. Now, reality had delivered a brutal, waking slap to the face. I could not pinpoint exactly when it started, but Stella’s patience for me had simply evaporated. The gentle, understanding woman I married was replaced by someone volatile, prone to explosive tempers and erratic moods. Sometimes, a slightly overcooked dinner was enough to make her storm out of the house. Every time we fought, I was the one who yielded. I swallowed my pride. It did not matter who was at fault or how far she crossed the line. I loved her, so I compromised. Then Noah entered the picture. Their relationship escalated with terrifying speed. Every day was a blur of lingering touches, inside jokes, and deeply inappropriate eye contact. While my mother was still alive, the neighborhood gossips made sure the whispers reached her ears. Worried, she had gently asked Stella about it. Stella had erupted into a screaming fit, shattering plates against the kitchen wall and screaming that my mother was a paranoid, toxic woman who wanted to ruin her life. My mother had only asked out of genuine concern. When I came home from work that night, I found my mother sitting alone on the sofa, her eyes red and swollen. Stella, meanwhile, did not come home at all. She ignored my calls and left my texts on read, only strutting back into the house the next morning. That was the first time I ever truly lost my temper with her. Stella looked at me like I was insane, completely bewildered as to why I was making such a big deal out of nothing. She had conveniently forgotten how my mother had treated her like her own flesh and blood from the day we exchanged our vows. Later, when my mother’s health failed and she was hospitalized, Stella never visited. Not once. At first, a blinding anger consumed me. But eventually, a numbing exhaustion took its place. We had been married for so long. I foolishly convinced myself that if we just weathered this storm, if we just survived this rough patch, the warmth would eventually return to our home. I trapped myself in a beautifully constructed delusion. I hypnotized myself with false hope. Until the flatline sounded in that sterile hospital room. Staring at my mother’s rapidly cooling body, the veil finally dropped. I realized how pathetically comical my hopes had been. Stella and I were already a rotting corpse of a marriage. There was no future. She had packed her bags the day before the funeral. I had naively assumed she was just stressed and would turn around. Instead, she called to demand I put my mother’s burial on hold. Her reason? Noah’s mother was unwell and wanted to see him bring home a bride. And that bride had to be my wife. It was sickeningly laughable. Her own mother-in-law was dead. But instead of wearing black, she was busy playing dress-up for another man. Even if she hated my mother, basic human decency dictated respect for the dead. She knew that. She just did not care. When my heart finally shattered, there was no loud explosion. Just a quiet, absolute death of everything I ever felt for her. 3 With the funeral behind me, I began packing up my mother’s belongings. There was not much. A few simple dresses, some worn knitting needles, and a handful of tarnished jewelry. When my fingers brushed against a heavy, beautifully ornate vintage gold locket, my breath caught in my throat. My mother had told me time and time again that this was my grandmother’s heirloom. It was meant to be locked around the neck of the woman who would carry our family’s love into the next generation. I sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the gold. Right then, my phone lit up with a text from Stella. [Hubby, I am going to be swamped the next few days taking wedding photos and family portraits. I will not be coming home.] I did not reply. A cynical, dry laugh scraped its way up my throat. I carefully wrapped the gold locket in velvet and placed it securely in my safe. It was my mother’s dying wish to pass this on, but I would rather melt it down than let it touch Stella’s skin. She was completely unworthy. Late that night, I saw her newest social media post. It was a professional family portrait of her, Noah, and Noah’s parents. The caption read: [A Happy Family.] In the photo, Noah’s hand was wrapped tightly around her waist. They were looking deeply into each other’s eyes, absolute adoration radiating from their smiles. I had almost forgotten that Stella could look so soft, so tender. Or perhaps, she had always been tender. She just reserved it exclusively for the people she actually loved. Two days later, she finally called. She ordered me to pick her up from the central train station. I was mildly confused at first. She had driven her own luxury SUV down to the country. Why was she taking the train back? The moment I pulled up to the arrivals curb, everything made sense. Standing there with Stella and Noah was a massive flock of elderly, loud, and visibly demanding country relatives. They were blocking the sidewalk, pointing at the city skyline and shouting over each other. Stella caught my eye and sighed, gesturing to the crowd. “Noah’s mom and his extended family wanted to see the city. You need to help entertain them.” She did not need to spell it out. The raw, unfiltered greed sparkling in their eyes was a mirror image of the look Noah wore every day. I kept my mouth shut, my face a mask of absolute indifference. Noah swaggered over, the smugness practically leaking from his pores. “Sorry for the trouble, Arthur. Really appreciate you making the trip out here.” He flashed a bright, perfectly practiced smile. “I kept telling my beautiful bride that we could just hail a few cabs, but she insisted you had to come. Makes me feel kind of bad, honestly.” He held out a hand. I stared at it, then up at his face, without moving a single muscle. Noah let his hand fall, a flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck. Stella immediately stepped forward, her voice sharp and dripping with venom. “Are you blind? Or did you just leave whatever manners you had in the gutter today?” Before I could even form a response, Noah’s mother pushed her way to the front. She was a hawkish older woman with calculating eyes, gripping Stella’s arm tightly. “Oh dear, why is there only one car, Stella? We have half the village here. How are we all supposed to squeeze into that?” “Let me call a luxury transport service,” Stella said, reaching for her phone. Noah’s mom snatched her wrist. “Nonsense! Why should you spend your money? Just have your driver here take the bus home. He can leave the car, and the three of us will take it back to your place.” Stella hesitated, looking at me. There was a flicker of something in her eyes. A request for permission. I felt absolutely nothing. I pulled the car keys from my pocket and tossed them directly into Noah’s chest. “Sure. Fine by me.” Stella let out a heavy breath of relief, lifting her chin at me dismissively. “Then hurry up and figure out their hotel arrangements. Do not keep my relatives waiting in the wind.” With that, the three of them piled into my car and sped off into the city traffic. Before the windows rolled up, I caught the undisguised gloating in the eyes of Noah and his mother. They thought they had put me in my place. They thought they had won. They had no idea that the game was already over, and I had already left the table. 4 By the time I managed to wrangle the herd of loud, demanding relatives into the hotel lobby, Stella was waiting by the elevators. The moment she saw me, she hurried over. “Listen, Noah and his mom said they want to attend your mother’s funeral to pay their respects. They are upstairs changing right now. Wait in the lobby. Once they are dressed, drive us over.” “Absolutely not.” The refusal left my lips before she even finished her sentence. “My mother valued her peace. Besides, these people are strangers. They have no business being there.” Stella’s face instantly twisted in annoyance. “But I already promised them! They were just praising how kind-hearted I am.” “And anyway, they traveled all this way. It is the thought that counts. What is the harm in letting them take one look?” The thought? A cold smirk played on my lips. Crocodile tears from a pack of vultures. I would rather the graveyard be completely empty than tainted by their presence. I was about to shut her down completely when the elevator doors chimed open. Noah and his mother stepped into the lobby. Noah was dressed decently enough, wearing a tailored black suit with a white rose pinned to his lapel. But when my eyes landed on his mother, the blood in my veins turned to ice. She was wearing a blindingly bright, sequined neon pink dress. She looked like a walking disco ball meant for a bachelorette party. Was she going to a funeral, or was she deliberately trying to spit on my mother’s grave? “You are wearing that to a funeral?” My voice was lethal, dropping the temperature in the room. Noah’s mother did not look embarrassed in the slightest. She rolled her eyes at me, muttered the word “hillbilly” under her breath, and waved Stella over. “Stella, honey, look at this. Does this outfit work for today?” Stella rushed to her side, grabbing her hands and nodding enthusiastically. “It is perfect. Simply gorgeous. If you ask me, this is exactly what you should wear. It makes you look so youthful and full of life.” My eyes widened. I stared at the woman I had been married to for nearly a decade. She said it was perfect. Stella did not even glance my way. She smiled warmly, gently guiding the older woman toward the revolving doors. When she noticed I had not moved an inch, she frowned in irritation. “What is your problem now? I literally just married her son. The poor woman just wants to wear something bright and happy to celebrate. Is that a crime?” “You are going to throw a tantrum over some fabric?” I looked at her. I felt a terrifying, absolute calm wash over my entire soul. My lips pulled back into a chilling smile. “You are right. I am being entirely too petty.” Ignoring Stella’s confused, slightly unnerved stare, I walked past them and got straight into the driver’s seat of the rental car. It was crystal clear. Every shred of hope I had ever harbored for this woman was toxic waste. My mother did not exist in her world. She never had. The drive was agonizingly tense. Stella’s face was a storm of conflicting emotions. Several times she opened her mouth to speak, and every single time, I cut her off instantly. “It is rush hour. Keep quiet. If I get distracted, we crash.” My voice was dead. Flat. It made Stella flinch, a flash of unease crossing her features before she finally clamped her mouth shut. But Noah’s mother was not used to silence. “Stella, what is wrong with this driver you hired? He has absolutely zero manners. If I were you, I would have fired him months ago.” I almost laughed out loud. What kind of delusional parasite was she, trying to dictate my life in my own car? Stella looked mortified. “Please do not be angry, Mom. He just… he speaks without thinking. Please do not take offense.” Noah’s mother sighed dramatically, placing a hand over her heart. “You have suffered so much these past years, my sweet girl. The very first time I laid eyes on you, I knew the universe made you specifically to be our family’s daughter-in-law.” “I love you right down to my bones.” She actually brought a hand up to wipe away a completely imaginary tear. Noah immediately leaned over to comfort her. “Do not cry, Mom. Everything is perfect now. Stella already promised we are going to start trying for a baby soon. I will give you a big, healthy grandson.” Stella’s face drained of color. She frantically slapped Noah’s knee. “Stop talking nonsense! I have no intention of having a child anytime soon!” Noah lowered his head submissively, but through the rearview mirror, I caught the vicious, toxic glare he shot her. Stella rushed to explain, though her words felt directed entirely at the back of my head. “My career is taking off right now. A baby is out of the question. We will talk about it years down the line.” I nodded slowly, keeping my eyes fixed on the road. She did not need to panic. She did not need to explain. A year ago, a conversation like this would have broken me. I would have screamed. I would have demanded answers. But today? I did not care if she had his baby tomorrow. Our timeline had reached a dead end. 5 When the car finally rolled to a stop at the sprawling gates of the memorial park, Stella looked out the window in confusion. “Why are we here?” She honestly could not comprehend why anyone would host a funeral at a cemetery instead of a lavish memorial hall. “Did you type in the wrong address, Arthur?” I killed the engine. Through the rearview mirror, my dead eyes met her questioning gaze. “No. This is the place.” Something clicked in her mind. The color vanished from her cheeks, leaving her looking like a ghost. “Are you saying…” “Yes.” I nodded, shifting my gaze to the rolling green hills lined with gray stones. My voice held absolutely zero emotion. “She is already in the ground. I buried her while you were busy planning a baby with him.” Stella froze. When reality finally crashed into her, she lunged forward, her fingers digging painfully into my shoulder, her face twisted in a manic rage. “You did this on purpose, did you not? I explicitly told you to postpone it!” I violently shoved her hands off me. My voice was laced with pure, unfiltered disgust. “Do you truly believe you are the center of the universe? That gravity itself shifts just to accommodate you?” “The date was set. The arrangements were made. Did you expect my mother’s body to rot in a morgue just because you were busy playing house?” Stella was stunned into silence. But Noah’s mother screeched from the backseat. “What is the big deal about waiting a few days? A brilliant, rich girl like Stella was willing to stoop down and attend your mother’s little burial. You should be kissing her feet in gratitude! Instead, you have the audacity to complain?” “You ungrateful little rat!” Noah nodded vigorously. “Exactly. You just take and take. Stella takes such good care of you, and you do not even consider her feelings for one second?” My jaw locked. I stared straight ahead, a statue carved from ice. I considered Stella’s feelings. But who considered mine? Who considered the woman who brought me into this world, lowering into the dark alone? Stella remained silent for a long, suffocating minute. She took a ragged breath. “Where is the grave? Take me to it.” I shook my head slowly. “You can walk up. They stay in the car.” I pointed a stiff finger at Noah and the neon-pink nightmare sitting next to him. “Those people will do nothing but defile the dead. They are not stepping foot on that grass.” The old woman’s face twisted into an ugly sneer, her mouth opening to spew more venom, but Stella cut her off sharply. “Fine. Just you and me.” I walked ahead, the gravel crunching beneath my shoes. Stella trailed closely behind me. The entire walk up the hill, she did not stop talking. A relentless stream of justifications and accusations. “Why did you bury her without my final approval? You could have at least sent me a text!” “How do you think this makes me look? A wife who skips her own mother-in-law’s burial? Do you want society to crucify me?” When I refused to offer even a single syllable in response, Stella snapped. She sprinted ahead, planting herself directly in my path, forcing me to stop. “You do not care about me at all anymore, do you?” I looked into her furious, blazing eyes. My heart was a flatline. “The date of the funeral was set days ago. You knew that. Why did I need to send a special invitation to my own wife?” “And I did text you after it was done. You chose to ignore it. What right do you have to stand on my mother’s grave and demand answers from me?” Stella’s expression cracked. She yanked her phone from her designer purse, her thumbs flying across the screen. I watched in total apathy as the anger drained from her face, replaced first by shock, then a sickening, pale dread. When she finally looked up at me, there was genuine panic trembling in her eyes. “I… I am so sorry. I…” “I swear I did not see the message. I was not trying to ignore you. I…” I let out a harsh, bitter laugh, slicing right through her pathetic excuses. “Does it matter now?” “She is in the dirt, Stella. What do you want me to do? Dig her up so you can pretend to care for the cameras?” “How can you say something so sick!” Stella flared up again, her guilt instantly weaponized into defensiveness. “I was just…” “Enough.” I stepped around her, my eyes fixed on the horizon. “You wanted to pay your respects. Here we are. Do it quickly. This is the last time you will ever come here.” Stella froze in her tracks. She spun around, grabbing my sleeve, her voice suddenly small and shaky. “What… what is that supposed to mean?” I stared down at her hands, then up to her face. My voice was a death sentence. “The divorce papers are printed. I am just waiting for your signature.”

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