Category: English

On the day of our wedding, my fiancé Kendrick Freguson called me by the wrong name. “I love you, Cecelia,” he said without hesitation. I froze. Cecelia Atkinson was the name of his first love. A murmur swept through the crowd. Furious, I threw my bouquet and called off the wedding. When we met again later, I was pushed up against the car door by a man and kissed so fiercely I could hardly breathe. Kendrick was seething as he shouted, “I thought we were good friends, and you went behind my back and stole my fiancée?” Frederic Haywood, holding me by the waist, chuckled, “If it weren’t for Kristine, you really think you could be my friend?” ***** At the wedding venue, the officiant asked, “Mr. Freguson, at this moment, what would you like to say to your bride?” I stood beside Kendrick, holding my bouquet, smiling sweetly. To my surprise, my fiancé Kendrick said, “I love you, Cecelia.” Silence fell over the room. I was stunned. The officiant, sensing the quiet, continued, “There seems to be a lack of applause. Mr. Freguson, your voice is a bit too soft. Let’s try that again. Speak loudly, declare your love for the bride.” “I love you, Cecelia!” His voice was firm and commanding. The officiant glanced at his notes, then asked, “What’s your bride’s name?” “Ce…” Kendrick suddenly realized, and his voice trailed off. The crowd broke into murmurs. Just moments ago, everyone had been brimming with congratulations. Now, whispers filled the air, and people occasionally shot glances at me, sizing me up and sneering. My hand, still clutching the bouquet, trembled. “Kendrick, what does it mean? Why do you call your ex’s name?” I asked, barely containing my rage. His eyes flickered with panic, but he quickly took my hand and smiled, “I got distracted, Kristine. I didn’t mean it. “I was just a little out of it from staying up too late last night.” I pulled my hand away, the emotions I had kept buried finally flooding to the surface. “Was your mind so off that you confessed her name twice? “If you’re still hung up on your ex and don’t want to marry me, just say so!” Kendrick was usually hot-headed, and I had always been the one to give in. But now, I had no patience left. His brow furrowed, his voice growing irritated. “You know exactly how this marriage came about, don’t you?” Cecelia was Kendrick’s girlfriend in college. Not long ago, there were rumors they were rekindling their romance. I didn’t take it to heart. But hearing him say this, I swallowed my tears and forced a smile. I felt like a fool for the past few years. We had grown up together. Our families had always been close. After graduation, we were both single, and our parents naturally arranged for us to marry. He never objected. I felt there would be something special about childhood friendships. Seeing that he didn’t oppose, I secretly felt pleased. I thought Cecelia was just a chapter of his past. Now I realized… she was the one he could never forget. Seeing that Kendrick was about to fly off the handle, Ophelia Freguson, Kendrick’s mother, quickly came over and grabbed my hand. “Kristine, he just got distracted. He didn’t do it on purpose.” I shook my head, pushing her hand away. “Mrs. Freguson, this wedding can’t continue.” Ophelia tried again. “He just cares about his pride, Kristine. He didn’t mean to hurt you. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he doesn’t bully you. “After the wedding, if you have a son, we will transfer two percent of Freguson Group shares to your name.” My parents, whose faces had been dark with tension, seemed to soften at that. Kendrick’s father, Jerrold Freguson, slapped Kendrick across the face. “Apologize to Kristine. You can’t act like this at your wedding!” Kendrick staggered back from the slap, rubbing his cheek and muttering, “Whatever, I don’t care about this wedding!” I clenched my bouquet, feeling like a joke. My groom called out his ex’s name twice during the wedding, and this was something I couldn’t get past. I threw my bouquet aside, snatched the microphone from the officiant, and without regard for the crowd, I declared the wedding canceled. Then, lifting my dress, I stormed out. Ophelia tried to stop me, but Kendrick tore the boutonniere off his suit and threw it to the ground. “Let her go! Kristine, if you dare to leave, then don’t come crying to me and beg me to get back together!”

Ophelia, seeing Kendrick in a fit of rage and me announcing the cancellation of the wedding right in front of them, grew angry. “Kristine, if you leave now, it will be harder to come back.” She was hinting at something. I pushed her hand away and walked out without looking back. Given what had happened, it wasn’t surprising Ophelia thought I wouldn’t easily give up on Kendrick. They all knew I had liked him since childhood. No matter what rumors or scandals surrounded him, I always shrugged them off. Whenever there was friction between us, I was the one to apologize first. I even defended his reputation in front of the media. When the rumors about him and Cecelia resurfaced, I firmly said, “I believe in him”. Hearing that, they all believed I was head over heels for Kendrick. Little did they know that relationships require mutual effort. My best friend, Ophelia Russell, followed me out of the venue, scolding Kendrick while trying to comfort me. “It’s fine. The world isn’t just about Kendrick. Come on, Kristine, let’s go relax!” I wiped my tears and nodded. But before I could leave, my parents called, scolding me, “The Freguson family is offering two percent of the shares, and you’re running away? Every man fools around before marriage. They all come back to the family in the end. “You’ve been living under our roof all these years. Don’t you think you should consider your family before making such a huge decision?” A chill ran through me. I had always done what they expected, been the obedient daughter at home and the graceful lady outside. Our family wasn’t any worse than the Fregusons. Now, I was publicly humiliated, yet my parents wanted me to bow my head. I wouldn’t compromise. I had my own dignity. I didn’t want to listen to them anymore, so I hung up and turned off my phone. That same day, I flew to Celadonia with Ophelia. When we landed, Ophelia, worried I might still be thinking about Kendrick, leaned in and whispered, “Kendrick posted on his Twitter yesterday, announcing his relationship with Cecelia. You should see the picture. She’s sitting on his lap, kissing him. Those two have clearly been together for a while. “Kristine, you can’t keep thinking about that scumbag.” I smiled weakly, “I won’t. Now that the wedding is canceled, he and I have nothing to do with each other.” One night was enough for me to figure everything out. I realized his heart had never been with me, and I was just a pawn in a family alliance. “Let go when you need to,” Ophelia said, giving me a thumbs-up. ***** We took a short rest at the hotel, and Ophelia, happy to see me feeling better, took me to the beach for a little sunshine. As I basked in the warmth, I felt a gaze on me. I took off my sunglasses and turned, only to be met with a burning gaze. A man was staring at me intensely. The heat of his gaze made my heart race. I quickly averted my eyes. I knew that man. He was Frederic Haywood, Kendrick’s best friend. I thought, “What is he doing here?” Now that I thought about it, I hadn’t seen him at the wedding. Frederic was different from Kendrick. He was said to be a wealthy heir from Zephyria, yet he was reserved and low-key. Somehow, he and the playboy Kendrick had become good friends. While I was lost in thought, Ophelia waved to Frederic, then whispered in my ear, “He’s been asking about you for a while. “He heard about your canceled wedding and came all the way from Zephyria overnight. He’s rich, handsome, and has status. He’s so much better than Kendrick. You should go for him, girl!” “Frederic, Kristine’s been wanting to learn jet skiing. Why don’t you teach her?” With that, Ophelia winked at me meaningfully, took a sip of her juice, and walked away, leaving us alone. A tall figure suddenly entered my field of vision, taking the spot where Ophelia had been lying just moments ago. His deep voice slid into my ear. “It’s my honor.”

The sea breeze lightly brushed my ankles, bringing a refreshing chill. However, the heat radiating from the man behind me was so intense it seemed like it might melt me. Though Frederic was on friendly terms with Kendrick, he was known in our circle as a man of few words and a cold demeanor. Whenever I’d run into him in the past, he’d merely nod politely, his eyes showing no sign of favoritism. It was clear he never thought of me in any special way. I never expected that, now, he would… “Don’t space out,” he whispered, his breath warm against my ear as he leaned in closer. He was controlling the jet ski, standing behind me, our bodies pressed tightly together. The heat from his back seemed to flow through me like an electric current, making my cheeks flush hotter and hotter. “Relax, focus on the ripples in the water,” he continued. “Don’t worry about falling. We’re both wearing life vests. “I won’t let anything happen to you…” Before he could finish, he suddenly turned sharply, following the wave’s curve. I lost my balance and tumbled backward right into his arms. His burning gaze met mine. The jet ski slowly came to a stop, and the sound of the waves seemed to fade away. The atmosphere around us felt almost romantic. I suddenly felt that maybe it was time to turn the page and give myself a fresh start. I was drawn to the undeniable charm of the man before me. I found myself staring at Frederic’s reddened ears, my hand gripping his arm as I leaned in to meet his lips… In the hotel room, Frederic held my waist tightly, spinning me around and pressing me against the door of the presidential suite. His presence was commanding, and the intensity of our emotions collided. It felt passionate. His kiss, burning and relentless, felt as though he was drowning me, little by little. I was in a daze. Frederic restrained himself, burying his face in the crook of my neck. “Kristine…” he murmured my name, lifting his head to look me in the eyes. “I’ve been thinking about you for a long time. Are you sure about this?” My gaze was hazy as I pulled his head down and wrapped my arms around his neck. We spent a passionate together. The next morning, I woke up groggily, pushing his large hand off my waist and flipping over to turn on my phone. The screen lit up with a flood of messages. As if she had predicted I would turn on my phone at this moment, my mom’s urgent call rang out. I frowned and sighed but answered anyway. My mom said, “Where have you been? I don’t approve of you and Kendrick breaking off your engagement. This marriage between our families isn’t a joke. You need to come back now.” I replied, “Mom, didn’t you see? He already announced his new girlfriend on social media.” Sometimes, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was even their real daughter. “Mrs. Freguson told me she only recognizes you as Kendrick’s wife. No one else can marry Kendrick.” I was exhausted. “It’s a pity I am not marrying Mrs. Freguson. Mom, our family isn’t so desperate that you need to sell your daughter, right?” She wanted to say more, but I couldn’t bear to listen. I ended the call abruptly. A strong arm wrapped around my waist, and with a quick motion, Frederic turned me to face him. He smiled and kissed me lightly on the lips. “Don’t be upset. No one can force you to do anything.” I thought he was joking and grinned. “You can’t, either?” “I can’t.” As we spoke, his hand moved, slipping under the covers… I pulled his hand away, grabbed the clothes nearby, and walked into the bathroom. He followed me closely. An hour later, he was content, holding me as we stepped out. I felt exhausted, both sleepy and drained. The phone by my side kept buzzing. He grabbed it, muting it. “I muted it.” I nodded and, after telling him the password, tilted my head to fall asleep. Frederic’s eyes shifted to the phone, where a new message popped up. [I was just messing around with Cecelia! You’re the one who announced the wedding cancellation so publicly and embarrassed me. You’ve made your point; now get back here!] Frederic read the message impassively, then swiftly deleted it with a flick of his finger.

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At the engagement party, my fiancé ditched me and ran off with his childhood sweetheart. Later, his best friend came to see me. “How about a new groom? Dare to marry me instead?” he asked me. I ended up getting my marriage certificate with Ethan Clarke. Samuel North was furious. “Selina Shaw, how dare you do this?” Ethan hugged my waist and chuckled, “I proposed it. What’s wrong?” ***** At the engagement party, Samuel’s childhood friend suddenly fainted. He was all worried. “I’ll take Lily to the hospital.” In front of everyone, he picked up Lily Green and left the hall. I dragged my dress and chased them to the door. “Samuel, can you ask a friend to take Lily to the hospital? If you leave now, what am I supposed to do?” Samuel glared at me, disgusted. “Selina, you’re so selfish. You only care about yourself when Lily’s like this.” Then he drove off without looking back. Because of my fiance’s exit, the engagement party was a disaster. I became the biggest joke of the night. Later that evening, I checked Lily’s posts. It said, “It was just low blood sugar. Thanks to his help. He took such good care of me.” The photo was a selfie of her leaning on Samuel’s shoulder. I waited on the couch the whole night. By morning, Samuel finally came back, looking exhausted. He stared at the empty dining table, annoyed. “It’s so late. Where’s breakfast?” I looked at him and calmly said, “I thought you’d already eaten with Lily.” Samuel frowned. “Lily was not feeling well, so of course I was looking after her. Why do you have to be so sarcastic? “I’ve already promised to marry you. Can you just be reasonable? Stop acting like a jealous mess. It’s making me tired.” I only said one thing, and Samuel lost his temper. He snapped, “Selina, if you keep being paranoid and making a scene, we’re done.” He was all over me like I’d done something unforgivable. We’d been together for three years, and every time we fought, I always ended up apologizing first. But this time, I didn’t feel the usual pain or reluctance. I looked at him and muttered, “Let’s break up.” Samuel froze. “Say that again?” I repeated slowly, “I said, let’s break up.” He laughed in disbelief, his voice full of mockery, “Selina, remember what you’re saying right now. Don’t come crawling back to me begging for forgiveness in a couple of days.” That was how he saw me—someone begging for his attention. I’d fallen for Samuel at first sight and chased him for a whole year until he accepted me. All his friends knew I couldn’t live without him. They also knew that he didn’t love me as much as I loved him. I didn’t care. Even though he was always cold to me, I naively believed that one day, he would be touched. That was until Lily came back from abroad. That’s when I realized Samuel could be gentle and considerate to someone. He ignored me, who was waiting in the rain, just to give Lily an umbrella. He forgot that I didn’t eat onions but remembered that Lily liked her coffee with no sugar. He forgot our anniversary but remembered the promise he made to Lily when they were kids. He threw the birthday gift I made for him in the trash but showed off the tie Lily picked for him. My best friend had once told me, “You won’t stop until you hit rock bottom.” Now, I finally hit the rock and felt the pain.

The next day, I went to a bar alone to drink away my boredom. My best friend sent me a voice message. In the audio, someone asked Samuel, “I heard you and Selina broke up again?” Samuel replied, “Same old trick. She’s always so dramatic and needy.” “Don’t be like that. You can tell she loves you.” “I don’t need her love.” His dismissive tone hurt my feelings. Someone said, “Bet you anything. She’ll come back to you within a week.” Another said, “A week’s too long. I bet three days.” They burst into laughter. Another voice cut through the laughter. “Samuel, you’re crossing the line.” The room fell silent. Then, Samuel teased him, “Ethan, if you like Selina, you can have her.” I rubbed my sore eyes, not wanting to hear anymore. I immediately deleted the recording. It wasn’t worth being upset over someone like him. From a nearby booth came a burst of laughter. I looked over and saw Samuel kissing Lily passionately. After a while, they finally noticed me. I stood up to leave, but Samuel followed me. “Selina, had enough of the drama?” He sounded annoyed. “We were just playing a game. Lily and I were just messing around.” Lily came over, looking pitiful. “Selina, if you’re mad, blame me. I lost the game.” “You don’t need to apologize, Lily,” Samuel said, shielding her. Turning back to me, he said, “Selina, play nice. I’ll give you an out now. If you don’t take it, I won’t offer one again.” His tone was threatening, but I just found it funny. “Samuel, have you lost your memory?” I sneered, looking at him. “We’re broken up. Your offer isn’t something I need.” Walking out of the bar, I bumped into someone’s chest. I looked up and saw Ethan. He was Samuel’s friend, and we’d become friends over the past couple of years. On the way back, Ethan asked, “Are you really going through with the breakup?” I nodded without hesitation, then laughed awkwardly, “Guess I won’t be a bride this year.” Not long ago, I had sworn to Ethan that I would marry Samuel this year. Now, this was a slap in the face. Ethan lit a cigarette and asked, “How about a new groom?” I blinked. “What?” He looked at me seriously. “Dare to marry me? I was stunned. He added, “How about a bet? Marry me and see what happens.” His voice was almost hypnotic. Before I could respond, he’d already stubbed out his cigarette and pressed me against the passenger seat, kissing me. The next morning, before I was even fully awake, Ethan dragged me to City Hall, where I ended up registering for marriage with him. ***** Samuel stared at the empty cigarette box, feeling agitated. He thought, “Selina hasn’t come home for three days. It seems she’s really mad this time. But so what? In the end, she will come back and beg me to forgive her.” Samuel hesitated for a moment and sent me a message: [Lily’s birthday is the day after tomorrow. Want to come with me?] I replied soon: [Okay.] Samuel couldn’t help but feel smug. In his view, I couldn’t live without him.

On the weekend, Ethan asked me to join him for a dinner gathering. I went along, but I didn’t expect it to be Lily’s birthday party. At the door to the private room, Ethan asked, “If you don’t want to go in, I can take you away now.” I shook my head and pushed open the door. Lily was flirting with Samuel. When she saw me, she looked surprised. “Selina, I didn’t know you’d come. Let me have the waiter bring another set of utensils.” Samuel eyed me and Ethan suspiciously. “How did you two meet?” Ethan smiled, “Selina is my wife now.” Samuel jumped up. “What nonsense are you talking about? Selina, you agreed to come to Lily’s birthday to team up with Ethan to mess with me? How childish!” I was confused. I’d never agreed to that. Ethan took my hand. “Oh, Selina was in the shower, so I replied for her.” Samuel raised his fist as if to hit Ethan, but one of his friends stopped him. Although they usually joked around, Ethan was the only heir to Clarke Group, and his status was even higher than that of Samuel, who had assets worth hundreds of millions of dollars. None of the men there dared offend him. Ethan remained calm. “You didn’t cherish what you had, so don’t act like you’re all sentimental now.” Samuel turned livid. “Selina, how could you betray me?” It was rare to see Samuel lose control like this, and I felt a strange sense of satisfaction. I smirked. “What? You and Lily can act all lovey-dovey, but I can’t marry someone else? Your double standards are really impressive.” Lily immediately turned on the drama, her face full of grievance. “Samuel and I are innocent. How could you slander us like this? If you keep making up rumors, I won’t welcome you anymore.” I rolled my eyes. “Do you think I care about staying here and watching you two fake it?” I followed Ethan out of the room, and behind us, we heard Samuel’s angry curses and the sound of dishes smashing. Ethan pinched my cheek. “You did well.” I was a little annoyed. “Did you bring me here on purpose?” Ethan smiled, “Just wanted those guys to know that now, you’re Mrs. Clarke.” The title hit me like a punch to the gut. All my annoyance disappeared in an instant, replaced by warmth. The next day, after work, Samuel blocked me at the company entrance. He demanded, “Are you really with Ethan?” I didn’t hide anything. “We’ve already registered our marriage. As for the wedding, he’ll invite you once the date is set.” “To hell with the wedding!” Samuel yelled hysterically. “I won’t allow it. You’re mine. The one you love is me. “Are you just upset that I left you at the engagement party? I’ll marry you. You can go and divorce Ethan now. I promise I’ll marry you tomorrow.” I was stunned. If I had heard this a week ago, I would’ve laughed in my sleep. But now, hearing these words, I just felt like laughing. “Samuel, it’s too late,” I said calmly. “I don’t love you anymore.” Samuel grabbed my arm. “We’ve been together for three years. You’re really that heartless?” I closed my eyes. “You know it has been three years. Do you even remember how you treated me?” Samuel fell silent. His hands dropped weakly. “So, you won’t forgive me, right?” he asked. I didn’t answer, but I turned and walked away firmly. Samuel called after me, and I stopped in my tracks. I heard him sneer, “You think Ethan cares about you? Don’t be stupid. He’s just using you.”   Honestly, I was just as confused as everyone else about why Ethan chose me. I’d known him for three years, and I’d never heard of him showing interest in any girl. Samuel and his group always joked about it, and I had wondered if he just wasn’t into girls. But like Ethan said, “Take a bet?” I was willing to take the risk. After losing for three years, I didn’t care if I’d lose again. Ethan and I had a flash marriage. I hadn’t even met his family. Everything I knew about him came from what I’d heard from Samuel and the others. Ethan came from a wealthy family, but unlike the other rich young men, he didn’t let his family’s status dictate his life. He chose to start his business and work his way up. After we got our marriage certificate, I moved into his three-room apartment in the city center. Ethan said it was our home. I made dinner and waited for him to come back. Eventually, I felt sleepy and ended up dozing off on the couch. When Ethan woke me up, I groggily asked, “Have you eaten?” He hugged me and said, “Silly girl, it’s already 11. Haven’t you eaten yet?” I glanced at the cold food on the table and nodded. Ethan ruffled my hair and said, “I’ll heat the food. We’ll eat together.” Watching him busy in the kitchen, I felt touched. By this time, he must have already eaten, but he still wanted to sit down and eat with me. Later, Ethan explained, “My dad called me back this afternoon to deal with some things. I forgot to text you.” I told him it was okay. After some thought, I told him about Samuel stopping by to visit me. Ethan immediately flipped me onto the bed and warned, “You’re my wife now. Don’t think about other men.” I laughed and pushed him off. “I wasn’t thinking about him. I was just wondering that since we’ve gotten married, when are we going to introduce our parents to each other?” My parents lived out of town, and this marriage had been so sudden that I hadn’t even had time to tell them I wasn’t marrying Samuel. Ethan froze, then let me go. He faltered, “Let’s wait a bit. I’ll let you know once I’ve arranged it.” I could tell he was just brushing me off. I remembered Samuel’s words and felt bitter inside. ***** When my best friend found out I had married Ethan, she was thrilled. “Selina, you’ve hit the jackpot. He’s the heir to the Clarke family and the dream of every socialite,” she exclaimed. “When’s the wedding? I’m going to prepare a great gift for you.” I awkwardly laughed, “I’m not sure yet.” “What?” she exclaimed. “You’ve got the certificate already, but you haven’t even talked about the wedding?” I felt even more embarrassed. “Actually, we haven’t even met each other’s parents yet.” My friend paused, then seriously said, “Don’t tell me Ethan is gay. Is he using you as a cover for his sexuality?” I thought of how passionate Ethan had been in bed, and my cheeks flushed. “I don’t think so.” My friend was still worried. “Selina, don’t think I’m being nosy, but you know Ethan’s background. If he has some hidden agenda, remember to get out early.” I nodded and reassured her. “Don’t worry. I’m just treating this like a gamble. If it doesn’t work out, we can part on good terms. I can even give up on Samuel, so…” She kept glancing behind me, signaling something. By the time I realized something was wrong, it was too late. I turned around, and there stood Ethan, staring at me unhappily.   The whole way back, Ethan didn’t say a word to me. I felt a bit guilty, but I wasn’t scared at all. The last thing I said to my friend wasn’t a lie. I had loved Samuel for three years. I once thought I could never leave him, but in the end, I let go just like that. Ethan and I ended up together by pure chance. If he asked for a divorce tomorrow, I wouldn’t be surprised. Everyone in this world should be self-dependent. Back home, Ethan didn’t turn on the lights. Instead, he spun me around and pushed me against the wall, kissing me. He was desperate and angry. My legs went weak, and I had to cling to him. When I finally lost consciousness from exhaustion, I couldn’t help but think, “At least Ethan’s desire for me isn’t fake.” ***** In the following days, Ethan didn’t come home. We silently started our first post-marriage cold war. This was nothing new to me. In the past, whenever Samuel was upset, he would give me the silent treatment. It could last ten days or even half a month. I had been used to it by now. What caught me off guard was that my parents suddenly came to see me. When I rushed to the hotel, I found them laughing and chatting with Samuel. My mother waved me over and said happily, “Samuel is so considerate. He knows we’re not used to traveling, so he sent someone to pick us up.” My father wasn’t in great health and couldn’t handle the pace of city life, so my mother had been living with him back in our hometown. I pulled Samuel out of the private room to talk. “Samuel, what are you up to?” Samuel held back his excitement. “Selina, your parents don’t know we’ve broken up yet. You still have feelings for me, don’t you? You married Ethan just to spite me, didn’t you?” I itched to pour some cold water on him to snap him out of it. I said, “Samuel, it’s over between us. When I tell my parents is my business.” He wasn’t willing to let go. “Didn’t I tell you last time? The Clarke family will never accept you.” “That’s between Ethan and me. You don’t need to worry about it, Mr. North.” Samuel fumed, pacing back and forth before finally giving in. “Fine, but at least today, let’s have a nice dinner with your parents, okay?” Since my parents had just traveled a long way, and they seemed so happy, I didn’t want to ruin their mood by telling them the truth right now. I thought about it and agreed to Samuel’s suggestion. During dinner, Samuel kept taking out his phone, acting distracted. When we were almost done eating, he suggested he drive us home. I linked arms with my parents as we left the private room, but then we ran into someone coming from the opposite direction. I was stunned. The middle-aged couple walking ahead of us had an air of sophistication, but I didn’t recognize them. However, the person following them was none other than Ethan, whom I hadn’t seen for several days. And next to him, a young, beautiful girl was clinging to his arm. The two of them moved with a level of intimacy that couldn’t be more obvious.

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It had been three years since I married Anthony Bartlett. After a difficult labor that lasted a whole day and night, I finally gave birth to our daughter. But when Anthony took the baby from the nurse, he named her Bonnie Bartlett. I stiffened on the delivery bed. I knew that Anthony’s ex-girlfriend was named Barbara Dorsey. During my postpartum recovery, I received a video. In it, a drunk Anthony complained to his ex about my body, about how I had changed, and about the unpleasant smell of breast milk. He said that while he married me, his heart would always belong to her. I looked at my daughter’s peaceful sleeping face in her swaddling blanket, and Anthony had no idea that this time, I was done. I didn’t want him or his love anymore. ***** It was the fifteenth day after I gave birth. Anthony hadn’t come back once. It all started when I fought desperately on the delivery bed to stop Anthony from naming our daughter Bonnie. He looked at me in disappointment and said, “It is just a name. Why are you making such a big deal out of it?” But I couldn’t accept it. Why should I? Why did Anthony think he could name our daughter after the woman he still longed for? Even though I nearly bled to death on that bed because of the stress, Anthony still went ahead and registered our daughter under the name Bonnie Bartlett while I was being rushed into ICU for emergency care. I was left alone at home, holding our daughter in her swaddling blanket. Barbara had once said that postpartum recovery wasn’t as bad as people made it out to be. Her friend had managed just fine looking after her own child on her own. So, Anthony thought it was fine to refuse to hire a postpartum nurse for me. “Nina, my Nina,” I whispered softly, calling my daughter by the nickname I had chosen for her. I tried to feed her, but because of everything that had happened, I had no milk left. Nina cried loudly from hunger. At that moment, I couldn’t hold back any longer and broke down, crying along with her. Anthony and I had met when we were both volunteering at an orphanage. From the moment he saw me, he started pursuing me. But no matter how kind he was, I never felt anything for him. It wasn’t until the time when I was harassed by some thugs because of work and Anthony risked his life to protect me that I slowly started to accept him. I was an orphan. Anthony made me feel what it was like to be loved and cared for. He told me he loved my kindness the most. But after we married, I realized that the reason Anthony had pursued me wasn’t because of who I was. It was because my eyes looked really like Barbara’s. How laughable. Both I and our daughter had become tools for Anthony to miss Barbara. Anthony and Barbara had been college sweethearts. But when they were about to get married, Barbara left him to pursue opportunities abroad. To my surprise, not only did Anthony not hate her, but he continued to cherish her as his true love, the perfect love he could never forget. I heard footsteps at the door, and the door opened. It was Anthony coming back. I was about to call out for help when my arms, sore from holding Nina day and night for the past two weeks, finally gave in. My body ached all over, and my eyes were red from exhaustion. I was barely holding it together. “Anthony, Nina… she…” Anthony frowned. “What Nina? I told you already her name is Bonnie Bartlett. I really don’t get it. Why are you so petty over a name?” “Look at this place, it’s a mess. And Bonnie’s crying. Don’t you know how to take care of her?” My eyes filled with tears. I wanted to argue with him. But I had barely eaten anything nutritious in days, and I was completely drained. “I don’t have milk. Could you please make some soup for me?” I weakly pleaded. Anthony’s parents had never cared about me because I was an orphan, and since I had only given birth to a daughter, they never even bothered to visit. They hadn’t come to see Nina once. I thought that by asking Anthony for help, he would remember his responsibilities as a father and stay to take care of our child.

Anthony frowned in irritation. “Didn’t you bring this on yourself? And it’s just soup. You could have made it yourself.” Without waiting for me to say anything, Anthony turned and walked out. “Anthony.” I shouted his name, but all I heard in response was the loud slam of the door. Anthony was gone. I held my daughter tightly in my arms, suddenly remembering what Anthony had said when we were deeply in love, that for the rest of our lives, he would do everything in his power to make sure I never shed a tear. I had always been afraid of loneliness. When Anthony proposed, he promised to give me a home so that I would never be alone again. But now, the sound of my daughter crying made me anxious. At that moment, I felt lost, and a bitter thought crossed my mind, “What does marriage really bring to a woman? Is this really the home I’ve always dreamed of?” I had no choice but to order takeout, asking for formula and soup. When the delivery arrived, I dragged my aching body to get it, but as I was preparing the formula for my daughter in the room, I saw a post from Barbara on Twitter. [Thanks to my knight for spending two hours making this soup just for me.] In the photo, Anthony wore an apron, looking at Barbara with a tenderness he had never shown me. I suddenly felt pathetic and foolish. The cries of Nina, hungry and helpless, and my own struggles with postpartum recovery, Anthony ignored them all. He didn’t care that I barely survived after being rushed into ICU, and he couldn’t even be bothered to make me a simple bowl of soup, yet he was willing to cook for Barbara, healthy and well. It made sense, though. From the start, I was nothing more than a stand-in for Anthony. He didn’t love me. And naturally, he didn’t love our daughter either. I finished making the formula for my daughter and then forced myself to drink the soup, but tears still dropped into it, one after another. I still made myself drink it. I knew I couldn’t break down. Since Anthony, as Nina’s father, didn’t love her, I had to love her enough for both of us. That night, after finally managing to get Nina to sleep, I received a video from an anonymous number. I clicked on it. The video showed Anthony, drunk, holding Barbara while complaining about me. “Diane Heath is useless. She can’t manage anything. She just lets Bonnie cry, and her body’s gotten out of shape. She doesn’t even care to manage it. And don’t get me started on the horrible smell of milk stains on her when I get close. “I really regret choosing her. “If I hadn’t felt sorry for her being an orphan, I never would’ve married her. She’s ungrateful, and now she’s making such a scene.” When I heard Anthony say that, my blood seemed to freeze. He actually disliked me because I was an orphan. But when we first met, I had never hidden that I was an orphan. I thought, “Yes, I am an orphan. But I’ve never given up on myself, never wallowed in self-pity. After growing up, I became an executive in a company because of my excellent grades and work skills.” I didn’t need Anthony to survive. I was doing just fine on my own. I looked down at my stomach, which still had some extra fat. Anthony was right. My body had changed, but I had just given birth to our daughter. I hadn’t even started postpartum recovery yet. Did he expect me to lose weight by risking my life? I didn’t understand how everything had turned out this way. It was Anthony who had forced me to quit my high-paying executive job when he found out I was pregnant, promising to care for me and the child for the rest of our lives. In the video, Anthony held Barbara even tighter. He said his heart would always belong to her and that he only stayed with me out of a sense of responsibility. I nearly collapsed as I watched the video, but I covered my mouth to stifle the sobs, not wanting to wake Nina. [Diane, I suggest you let me know when to quit. If it weren’t for the fact that you look like me, Anthony would never have even looked at you.] I knew it was Barbara’s provocation.

The next day, Anthony finally returned, but he brought Barbara with him. As soon as Barbara stepped through the door, she shot me a disdainful look. However, in front of Anthony, she continued to pretend to be friendly toward me. “Bonnie, come let me hug you.” She called Nina’s name, but her gaze was full of longing as she looked at Anthony. I held Nina tightly, giving her a cold stare. Barbara pretended to get teary-eyed as if she were hurt. “Anthony, I think Diane doesn’t like me. If you want, I can just leave right now.” Anthony, naturally, couldn’t stand seeing Barbara upset. He glared at me in disapproval. “Diane, how can you be so unreasonable? Don’t you know that Barbara brought a ton of gifts just to see you today? “You don’t even know how to say thank you, and now you’re making a scene.” I looked at Anthony sadly. “Why should I thank her? Should I thank her for abandoning you to go abroad? Or thank her for trying to ruin our marriage after you got married and had a child?” “Diane, you’ve got it all wrong. I’ve already cleared things up with Anthony.” At the mention of the past, Barbara ran out of the room crying. Anthony tried to follow, but I stopped him with a sharp voice. “Anthony, I just want to ask you one thing. When you decided to marry me, was it because I looked like Barbara, or did you actually love me, even just a little? “If you love me, then don’t leave. Stay here with me and Nina, okay? She’s still so small, and she needs you.” Tears welled up in my eyes as I set aside my pride and pleaded with him. I begged for just a shred of love from Anthony. “I do love you…” Anthony hesitated, his eyes clouded with doubt. He had intended to stay, but when he saw a message from Barbara hinting at something like suicide, he became anxious instantly. His gaze toward me turned full of contempt. “Diane, this is all your fault. If something happens to Barbara, I swear I won’t let you off the hook.” Without another word, Anthony turned and walked away. The house was left in silence, just me and Nina. In the middle of the night, I was half awake when I suddenly smelled a strong, choking odor of smoke. Nina started crying as well. That was when I realized something was wrong. I grabbed Nina and tried to open the door, but I found the doorknob burning hot. I remembered some fire safety tips I’d learned on social media and immediately realized the fire had already reached outside our door. After calling 911, I instinctively dialed Anthony for help. But after several calls, he still didn’t answer. Nina was crying from inhaling the smoke, and my heart ached as I held her close. “Why isn’t he answering the phone? Anthony, please pick it up. Please, save me and Nina.” The fire had damaged the electricity, and just as my phone was about to die, Anthony finally picked up. I was about to speak when he shouted angrily at me first. “Diane, what’s wrong with you? Don’t you know that Diane has a fever? I finally managed to get her to sleep, and you keep calling.” “No, Anthony, there’s a fire at home. Please come back. I’m scared, and Nina keeps crying.” My body trembled uncontrollably. But Anthony’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Diane, are you enjoying playing these games? And by the way, my daughter’s name is Bonnie. Nina? That’s not my daughter.” At this point, I didn’t care to argue with him anymore. “It’s really a big fire, Anthony. Me and the baby are trapped inside. Please come back and help us. I’m begging you, please save our daughter.” As I saw smoke seeping into the room from under the door, my voice became more desperate. But then, through the phone, I heard Barbara’s weak voice calling out to Anthony. Then Anthony hung up the phone, and I couldn’t get through to him again. I held Nina in my arms and rushed into the restroom, desperately stuffing a towel in the crack of the door, but the thick smoke still seeped in little by little. Even though I pressed a damp towel over Nina’s nose and mouth, she was just a baby. I could hear her cries growing fainter and fainter, and my heart sank further into despair. Just when I thought Nina and I would die here, the restroom door was suddenly pushed open from the outside. The firefighters had arrived just in time, saving both Nina and me. The next day, when Anthony received the news and rushed to the hospital, he saw me in the ICU. His eyes lit up with relief, and he immediately hugged me. “Diane, I’m so glad you’re alright. What about Bonnie? How is she?” Slap… Before he could finish his sentence, I slapped him hard across the face. “Diane, how could you hit me?” Anthony turned his face away in shock, his eyes filled with disbelief. But I felt utterly drained. I was so tired… I didn’t want to love Anthony anymore. The fire that trapped us in the house made me realize that Anthony’s heart had always been with Barbara. I couldn’t pull him back, and I didn’t want to. This time, I didn’t want anything from him, neither him nor his heart. “Anthony, let’s get a divorce.” I closed my eyes, unwilling to look at him anymore.

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For the past two months, I’d been trapped in a suffocating fog of despair. My wife, Lilian Chase, had just shared the miraculous news that she was pregnant. But then, in a cruel twist of fate, she lost the baby. It was my fault. If I hadn’t been so consumed with delivering takeout and running errands, Lilian would never have dashed into the street in the dead of night, desperate to find me after waking from a nightmare. She wouldn’t have had a car accident and lost the baby. It was already past midnight, nearing 12 a.m. Lilian lay curled up on the bed, and her face was still streaked with the remnants of tears from her latest bout of sobbing. I sat beside her, whispering words of comfort until exhaustion claimed her that she finally drifted into an uneasy sleep. With tears still glistening in her eyes, she clung to the memory of our lost child, unable to let go. This scene became a cruel routine over the past two months. Every time her guilt-ridden sobs echoed through the room, my own guilt gnawed at me, growing heavier with each passing day. I took on extra work, not just delivering food but running long-distance errands, all to provide a better life for her and the future children we dreamed of having. That night, I had accepted an order from six miles away. The rain poured down relentlessly, but the 150-dollar errand fee meant I could take Lilian out for a nice meal. But the roads were slick, and the darkness swallowed everything. After picking up the medicine from a pharmacy on the east side of the city, I rushed to the destination. In my haste, I slipped on the slick pavement, scraping my elbows and knees. But the sting of my scrapes was trivial. Nothing mattered more than delivering that takeout on time. Still, by the time I arrived at Room 1302 in Riverside Heights, the delivery was already overdue. I pressed the doorbell, and after a few moments, a scowling man yanked the door open. My face was hidden beneath my helmet and mask, but I recognized him instantly. His sharp, chiseled features were hard to forget. It was the same man who had hit my wife two months ago at the intersection of Cedarwood Boulevard and, to his credit, drove her to the hospital. I couldn’t dredge up his first name from memory, but I knew for certain his surname was Wilson. When I dashed to the hospital on that fateful day, there he was at the cashier’s office, settling the bill. He explained that Lilian had suddenly darted out into the road. Amidst her tears, Lilian admitted to it. Overwhelmed with guilt, I apologized over and over, and in an attempt to make amends, I paid him five thousand dollars to cover the cost of his shattered windshield. Who would’ve thought that by simply running errands, I’d cross paths with him? “What took you so long?” he snapped, snatching the soggy paper bag from my grasp. “It’s drenched! If you can’t handle this job, maybe you should just quit!” I was on the verge of apologizing, my mouth opening to say “Mr. Wilson,” when a voice from within the apartment halted me in my tracks. It was a soft, languid voice that sent a jolt of electricity through my entire body. “Cutie, why don’t you come in? I’ve been waiting forever!” “I’m coming,” he responded, and his smile was tinged with a hint of lust. Throwing me a dismissive glance, he then turned back inside, slamming the door shut. “The moron won’t be home until two. We don’t have much time.” The voice from within grew faint, but it was etched into my memory. No matter how many years might slip by, I would recognize it anywhere. That was unmistakably Lilian’s voice.

The tiny bear keychain, sprawled out on the floor of the entrance hall, was a creation of my own hands, crafted with love for her. The woman who should have been nestled in our bed, sleeping peacefully, was with another man. I didn’t remember much about how I left Riverside Heights that night. I only recalled the tumble down the staircase, where agony dulled into numbness, and yet, in a haze of disorientation, I somehow pulled myself upright once more. I had to go home. Lilian was waiting for me there. Down below in my neighborhood, one solitary streetlight had been broken and dim. I stood in its shadow, hidden from view, as I watched Lilian step out of a taxi. She looked over her shoulder, nervously glancing around before heading upstairs. I surmised she must have tidied herself up by now, perhaps even settled into bed. With that thought, I stubbed out my eighth cigarette, plastered a hollow smile across my face, and stepped into the elevator. As soon as I opened the door to our apartment, I could hear the familiar shuffle of her slippers. Lilian appeared in her teddy bear nightgown with light yellow fluffy slippers on her feet. She rubbed her sleepy eyes, giving me the impression she had just been roused from sleep by my arrival. “Are you back?” she asked casually, taking my dripping raincoat and hanging it outside the door without a second thought. I shuddered. “It’s quite cold in here. Didn’t you turn on the heating?” Lilian paused, a flicker of shock crossing her face, before she hurried to turn up the radiator. “Maybe it’s broken. It’s not warming up,” she said. “Broken?” I thought. “It’s only been six months since I bought it. How could it be broken?” But I knew the truth. The power had cut off automatically when she left the house to meet her lover. She hadn’t had time to turn it back on when she returned. I simply muttered, “Yeah.” “Why are you so early today?” she asked. “It’s pouring out there,” I answered with a shrug. “Guess folks aren’t in the mood for deliveries tonight.” “Doesn’t that mean we’re losing out on cash? The delivery fees go up when it rains!” she protested. Her lips formed a pout, a hint of frustration coloring her voice. She had no idea that, at night, I wasn’t just delivering food. I was also running errands on the side, taking any job I could find to make extra money. If her heart truly held concern for me, she would’ve picked up on the slight limp as I walked or the tremor that shook my right hand. Yet, she asked not a single question. She was merely playing the part of a wife. The hot water poured over me in the shower, mixing with my tears. Pain and disappointment flowed down my cheeks, but I clenched my teeth, refusing to let out a sound. Lilian and I had been in love for three years before we got married. Two years had passed since then. How could I simply walk away after five years entwined with her? What if the one I truly loved were to suddenly disappear from my life? Would I crumble into pieces? I slapped my own cheek hard. I hated my incompetence and my cowardice. Lilian had been with me for five years, but I still hadn’t given her the life she deserved. The truth was, I was incapable. I couldn’t pledge to her a bright future. Maybe that man was just a momentary lapse for her. Everyone deserved a chance to be forgiven, right? Those nights, I came home early. I settled next to her on the couch, the flicker of the TV casting shadows as we watched shows and scrolled through videos, sharing the quiet intimacy of late-night snacks. She would curl up in my arms, her body language betraying a growing restlessness.

“No orders these days?” Lilian asked. “I’ve been busy for over half a month,” I replied, leaning back on the couch. “I’m exhausted. I just need a break.” She rolled over, her gaze locking with mine, and said in an earnest tone, “It’s around Valentine’s Day, so flower deliveries must be booming. Are you sure you don’t want to cash in on that?” I stayed silent. Her brows furrowed, and her cheeks flushed with anger. She grabbed the remote and hurled it to the edge of the sofa. “I’m tired,” she snapped. “I’m done watching this. Let’s just go to sleep.” Just then, the doorbell rang. I jumped up and hurried to the door, returning with a bouquet of red roses. I handed them to her, my heart pounding. “Happy Valentine’s Day, honey,” I said, forcing a smile. “I’ll love you forever.” But the sweet response I’d hoped for never came. Lilian froze for a moment and took the bouquet stiffly. “Thank you,” she said flatly. My enthusiasm crumbled instantly. “Why the sudden urge to give me flowers?” she asked. “You’ve always said I’m clueless about romance,” I answered, striving to keep my voice from wavering. “Ninety-nine red roses speak the language of ‘forever and ever’. “Honey, will you always be with me?” My gaze must have been too intense because she shifted uncomfortably, her hand brushing her neck. “It’s like a sauna in here. Let me fix the thermostat,” she said, getting up to adjust the heat. She turned away, and I let out a bitter laugh, my eyes burning. “Hey, you know what?” I began. “Four days back, when I was out late, I ended up delivering a box of condoms to Riverside Heights.” The roses slipped from her hands and hit the floor with a soft thud. “And I got to thinking,” I continued, “what kind of couple goes six miles out of their way to a drugstore for condoms? Certainly not the respectable kind.” I stepped closer, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “How could they compare to my perfect wife at home?” Lilian’s back stiffened, her shoulders trembling. I approached her, placing my hands on her tense shoulders, speaking as much to her as to myself. “Do you know what I saw? “I saw that guy who took you to the hospital last time. What’s his name again? Hugh Wilson, right? “What did you call him in there? Cutie? And what did you call me? Moron?” “No, honey, please, let me explain,” she pleaded. “Moron?” I echoed, my voice rising. “What a thoughtful nickname! Should I act foolishly to match it?” My eyes, red and swollen, throbbed with pain as I fixed my gaze on her guilty face, her eyes brimming with tears, but I couldn’t shed a single tear. Why? I kept asking myself. Why? Why was I the one who’d been devoted to her while she could smile at me and sleep with other men just two months after she lost the baby? “You said you weren’t feeling well, so I didn’t touch you!” I shouted, my voice cracking. “There were twelve condoms in that box! Twelve!” The pain in my chest felt like a thorn, twisting and digging deeper into my spine. Lilian collapsed to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably. She clutched at the hem of my pants, her voice breaking as she pleaded for a chance to explain. “What’s there to explain?” I yelled. “Going to another man’s house for a late-night snack? What did you use? A condom? “Let’s get a divorce, Lilian.”

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From the instant we exchanged our wedding vows, my husband, Julian Smith, embarked on a fervent mission to knit me seamlessly into his family, dedicating himself to having sex with me to make me pregnant. But after three years, my belly remained flat. Gradually, his patience began to wear thin. Eventually, he abandoned me in a fire, leaving me with his new lover. Yet, I wasn’t shattered. After being rescued, I did three things. First, I secretly hid my pregnancy test report. Second, I moved out of the home we’d shared for three years. Third, on our wedding anniversary, I filed for divorce. Julian remained indifferent. His new lover came to me to apologize, tears streaming down her face. “Judy, Mr. Smith didn’t mean to hurt you. If you’re angry, blame me.” I didn’t blame her. I simply told her to leave. Julian wrapped his arms around her, murmuring soothing words, but the moment he turned to me, his demeanor shifted. With a voice as cold as ice, he declared and tossed a divorce agreement my way, “Don’t regret it.” With not a single regret in my heart, I departed in silence, hiding the secret of my pregnancy. But later, when he stumbled upon my pregnancy test report, his eyes flared red with fury, and he seemed to lose all sense of reason. ***** In the aftermath of the fire, I lay in the hospital for three long days, but Julian never visited. Upon my discharge from the hospital, I found myself perched alone on the sofa, lost in contemplation over the doctor’s words. The doctor had said, “Ms. White, you’re pregnant, but the pregnancy isn’t stable. You must take care to avoid any intense emotions or excitement.” Remembering my past miscarriages, I silently vowed, “Baby, this time, I will bring you into the world.” Julian returned late that night. He was engaged in a phone conversation, a tender glow softening his gaze. A woman’s voice drifted through the line. It was none other than Linda Green, the rising starlet he had heroically pulled from the fire just recently. Once, this would have driven me mad with jealousy. Now, it left me numb. Only after hanging up did he notice me on the sofa. Surprise flickered across his face, followed by irritation. “Why didn’t you tell me you were discharged?” he yelled. I almost laughed. I’d texted him long before leaving the hospital. He just hadn’t cared enough to notice. When I didn’t respond, he sat beside me. After a brief pause, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a black credit card. With a calm directive, he said, “Take this, and keep preparing for the pregnancy.” My hand rested on my belly, where life was already growing. I kept the existence of our child a secret, leaving the card untouched where he had placed it. Instead, I handed him a contract. “Julian, let’s get divorced.” The words on the divorce agreement stunned him. His brow creased into a frown, and his voice was laced with the same impatience as always. “Divorce? Did you not just go through a fire before? And besides, you’re here, safe and sound, aren’t you? Now, you want to divorce me over this?” he snapped. I thought, “Go through a fire? Safe and sound?” My nails dug into my palms as I fought to keep my emotions in check. Yes, I’d survived the fire. But the fire had always been my shadow. It had killed my mother and nearly claimed me, too. Julian had saved me back then, pulling me from the abyss. So, shouldn’t he, of all people, know how terrified I was of fire? How could he just abandon me in the midst of flames and walk away, hand in hand with another woman? As I held my silence, he continued, “Come on, be sensible. I’ve had my hands full. That’s why I couldn’t make it to the hospital.” With my patience worn thin, I let out a derisive sneer and retort. “If being ‘sensible’ means I should overlook how you left me for dead at the fire and walked out with another woman, only to expect me to act like nothing happened, then yes, I guess I’m not sensible at all.” I took a deep breath and declared, “Julian, let’s get a divorce.” He fell silent, his expression darkening as he sat there for a moment, brooding. Finally, he left the card on the table. “Don’t be rash. Keep trying for a baby.” With that, he walked upstairs without looking back. I knew he was trying to appease me. He’d done this before whenever I’d been jealous of Linda. There was a time when he would at least conjure up surprises for me, but now, all that remained was a credit card devoid of any real sentiment. He thought I’d give in like I always had. But this time, I wouldn’t.

Watching Julian’s back as he walked away, I sneered. Suddenly, a sharp pain pierced my lower abdomen, yanking me from my thoughts. My hand instinctively flew to my stomach as I rushed to the guest bedroom, taking a folic acid pill. I softly placed my hand on my belly, whispering words of silent solace to the delicate life blossoming within. That night marked the beginning of another cold war between Julian and me. This had become his go-to tactic, coercing me into conceding my supposed faults ever since we tied the knot. Once upon a time, I had bowed my head because I loved him. But now? Now that the love was gone, there was no reason to give in anymore. I packed my things and moved out. That night, he made no effort to find me, which I welcomed as a chance for some freedom. I seized the opportunity to make plans with my best friend, Rachel Gray, for dinner and a movie. As we drove home afterward, Rachel finally broke the silence. “Are you really going through with the divorce? Are you prepared to let go of everything you’ve worked so hard for?” Within the car, my hand tenderly caressed my pregnant belly. The lights beyond the window cast a dim glow, yet a serene calm enveloped me. Her question didn’t stir up any anxiety in me. Maybe I was just too disappointed to feel anything anymore. “I’m planning to take a job at Joyvo Group,” I said softly. Rachel’s eyes widened in surprise. “If you go to Joyvo Group, Julian will lose it,” she exclaimed. I thought about it for a second and chuckled, “Now that you mention it, I think I want to go even more.” After a restorative night, I composed an email to Julian, formally tendering my resignation. He offered no response, so I took his silence as tacit agreement. The very next day, I turned on my heel and aligned myself with his competitor, Joyvo Group. Consequently, on my first day at the new company, Julian sought me out. In front of everyone, he grabbed my arm and pulled me away. He looked livid. I stumbled after him, my free hand instinctively covering my belly to protect the baby inside me. “Julian! What the hell is wrong with you? Are you insane?” I yanked my arm, trying to break free. “I think you’re the one who’s lost it!” he snapped. “You want to work at Joyvo Group? Did I give you permission to resign?” His face loomed mere inches from mine as he pulled me close. Our gaze met when his eyes burned with anger. “Do you even remember how Joyvo Group tried to destroy us in the beginning?” he demanded. Of course, I remembered. How could I forget the humiliation Julian endured when Joyvo Group had tried to suppress us? It was a wound he had carried for so long, a constant source of pain. But that pain didn’t justify the way he treated me, did it? He never cared about my hurts, so why should I care about his? “Have you said everything you needed to say?” I asked. “Because if you have, then let me go. I have work to do.” I tried to pull away again, but his grip was like iron. His fingers dug into my wrist, and I winced. His eyes were red with rage. “You will not work for Joyvo Group,” he growled. “Name any condition. Anything but this.” Any condition? I almost laughed at the absurdity of it. In his mind, we were still haggling, still negotiating like this was some business deal. When had our relationship become so transactional? When had love turned into a series of demands and conditions? I met his gaze, his eyes brimming with a tempest of anger. His eyes, which I had once loved so deeply, now gazed back at me with an unsettling unfamiliarity. I took a deep breath, letting the calm wash over me again. “Fine,” I said firmly. “My condition is divorce.”

After a brief pause, I lifted my head again, meeting Julian’s red-rimmed eyes head-on. I repeated my words. “As long as you agree to a divorce, I won’t take the job at Joyvo Group.” I could see the anger in his eyes bubbling just beneath the surface, ready to spill over. My wrist felt as though it might snap under his vice-like grip. Just when I braced myself for his inevitable rejection, he laughed. “Fine,” he said, his tone dripping with malice. “Since you want a divorce so badly, I’ll grant your wish. But don’t regret it.” Our journey to the courthouse was swift, yet I had overlooked the mandatory 30-day cooling-off period before the divorce could proceed. The divorce was stalled, and we were now tethered to an agonizing wait of another 30 days. I stood on the steps, waiting for the taxi, feeling a growing sense of impatience. Julian stood beside me, unmoving. He exuded an air of confidence as if victory was already within his grasp. “Judy White,” he began. “I admit that I’ve neglected you lately, but you’ve been too willful. If you come back now, we can work through everything. As for Linda, there’s nothing between us. We’re just cooperating for the company’s marketing. That’s all.” It was the first time he’d ever explained so much to me. Yet, there remained one thing he never clarified—why he abandoned me to the flames that day, choosing instead to rush to Linda’s rescue. I turned to look at him. His expression was calmer now, but his eyes were deep, reflecting my own image back at me like a mirror. He still thought this was just a spat, something that could be smoothed over with a few words. And then, just like before, he started to coax me again. “Let’s prepare for pregnancy. Once we have a child, everything will go back to how it was. My family will accept you once we have a baby.” I had heard him say this before. But this time, something inside me had changed. The expectations I once had were gone, burned away like ash. What did it matter whether his family accepted me or not? I was the daughter of a murderer, after all. Our marriage was over. It had been over for a long time. A flutter of movement in my abdomen, the baby kicking, reminded me of the life growing inside me. Suddenly, I was reminded of the day Julian and I went to get our marriage certificate. Back then, he had been young and full of passion and sincerity. He held our marriage certificate like it was the most precious thing in the world, his face splitting into an ear-to-ear grin. “Honey,” he had said, “We’ll never divorce!” How wrong he had been! At 22, Julian had only me in his heart and eyes. At 30, Julian had more than just me in his eyes and heart. The thought sent a shiver down my spine, and I felt cold all over. “Julian,” I confessed, “I really don’t want to go on with you.” With those words, I climbed into the car and l As the car pulled away, my phone buzzed with a message from Julian. His words were filled with rage. Julian: [I’ll give you one last chance. Come back and prepare for the pregnancy!] Rather than respond to his message, I blocked his number, erased it from my contacts, and tossed my phone aside.   That evening, after taking my folic acid tablet, I planned to settle into bed. But then I felt a dull ache in my abdomen. The doctor’s words echoed in my mind. “Ms. White, you’re pregnant, but the pregnancy isn’t stable. You must take care to avoid any intense emotions or excitement.” I gently rested my hand on my belly, which was just beginning to show the faintest curve. Whispering to the life growing inside me, I said, “Baby, no matter what, I will protect you. I’ll bring you into this world and make sure you grow up happy and safe…” With that, I drifted into a peaceful sleep. During the cooling-off period before the divorce, all I wanted was to live quietly. I yearned to erase it all from my memory and forget Julian entirely. Then, I planned to find a place where I was a stranger to give birth and raise my child in solitude. No longer would I have to wait in solitude at home each day, uncertain if Julian would return or not. I would no longer have to stew in jealousy over him and those female celebrities he claimed were merely business targets. I would no longer fret over his family rejecting me because I was the daughter of a murderer. But the next day, my phone rang. It was Rachel. Anxiously, she urged me over the phone, “Judy, please, check the trending searches on Twitter.” I opened the app, and my mind went blank instantly. The trending topics were filled with explosive revelations. [Golden Agent Judy White Revealed as the Daughter of a Murderer] [The Nation-Shaking Murder Case from Twelve Years Ago, Judy White’s Mother Found Guilty] The hashtags quickly climbed to the top of the list, dominating the hot search rankings. The comment section was a cesspool of venomous speculation and vile insults. My hands trembled as I held the phone. On the other end of the line, Rachel spoke with a voice laced with urgency, “Judy, you won’t believe this, but Julian’s company just released a statement confirming it’s all true…” Her words faded into the distance, drowned out by the roaring in my ears. In a trance, my mind drifted back to that fateful night, a night soaked in the stark hues of blood and the fierce glow of flames. I was catapulted back to the time when I lost everyone dear to me. Each day and night, I faced the relentless cruelty of my classmates. Their bullying, oppression, and mockery became the dark shroud of my existence. Everywhere I went, they’d point and whisper, “Look, that’s Judy, the murderer’s daughter.” Even when I hid, their voices followed me. “Judy’s father was a rapist, and her mother’s a murderer.” The first time I visited Julian’s house, his mother looked at me with icy disdain and asked, “Are you the Judy who was almost raped by her own father?” These memories crashed over me like waves, sharp and unrelenting. It was as if a knife was slicing through me, cutting me into pieces again and again. I couldn’t tell how many moments slipped by in that haze. Then, the door burst open, and Rachel’s voice pierced through the haze. “Judy! You’re bleeding!”

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The night before the wedding, Jonathan Kelley’s first love, Yolanda Maxwell, sent over her medical report. She said she wanted to see the world one last time before going blind. In order to avoid leaving any regrets with his first love, he decided to cancel our wedding to take care of her. When I confronted him, he grew impatient. “Can you stop being so petty? She can’t see anymore. Can’t you just be a little understanding?” He even tied me to a chair and forcibly hypnotized me to make me forget about him, for a while, at least. Later, I went ahead and married his archrival. With red eyes, he asked me, “How could you marry someone else?” Raymond Baldwin wrapped his arms around me. “Why are you so upset? It’s just a new groom. Don’t be so petty.” Looking at the photo on my phone, I suddenly felt like I didn’t want to get married anymore. An hour ago, Jonathan’s first love, Yolanda, had posted something on Instagram. [I just casually mentioned I wanted a snack, and he dropped everything and rushed to bring it to me.] The post was accompanied by a photo of the two of them eating together closely. In the photo, my fiancé, Jonathan, was lovingly feeding Yolanda. That gentle look was something I had never seen from him. At that moment, I felt like a joke. I remembered how he had come with me to pick out rings in the afternoon and said there was something urgent at the hospital he had to take care of. His “urgent matter” was running off to buy snacks for his first love. Just then, the door opened. Jonathan had returned. He walked into the bedroom and saw that I was still awake. He came over and hugged me. “We had a lot of patients today, so I’m a bit late home.” His voice was soft, and the faint scent of gardenias filled my nostrils. That was Yolanda’s favorite scent. Suddenly, I felt a wave of nausea. I pushed him away and couldn’t help but mock him. “Really? Did you bring her snacks and still find time to see patients? You really are working hard.” “You… you know?” His eyes flashed with panic, and he immediately took out the medical report. “Yolanda’s having trouble with her eyesight. She could go blind at any time.” When I heard him say that, I just found it laughable. She had posted a picture on Instagram not long ago, and now she was supposedly going blind? It seemed like a joke to me. She had used similar tactics to manipulate Jonathan before. Anyone with common sense could tell she was playing him, but Jonathan still believed her wholeheartedly. Seeing that I didn’t say anything, he went on. “You know, Yolanda lost both her parents when she was young. Now, with this illness, she’s struggling with even the basics of daily life. It’s really pitiful.” I sighed deeply and cut straight to the point. “So, you want to go take care of her?” Jonathan fell silent, not answering, but I could already tell his position. It hit me hard soon. We were supposed to be getting married, yet he couldn’t let go of his first love. I suddenly felt empty inside. “Jonathan, if you can’t let her go, I can call off the wedding and set you two free!” I turned around to start packing my things, but he suddenly grabbed my wrist. He pinned me to the chair and took out some rope he had prepared in advance, tying me up. I screamed, “Are you crazy? What are you doing?” A wave of fear washed over me, and I struggled desperately, trying to break free, but I couldn’t move an inch. He looked at me with a trace of guilt in his eyes. “Wanda Norman, don’t be angry. I know you don’t like her, but right now, she really needs me. “I’m going to take care of her for a few days, and I’ll hypnotize you so you can forget about me temporarily.” He took out a golden pocket watch. I stared at him in disbelief. He actually hypnotized me to forget about him just so he could meet his first love! This watch was something I had specially ordered for him as a birthday gift, and never in my wildest dreams did I think it would end up being used on me. A wave of bitterness hit my chest, and I looked at him with eyes full of disappointment. “Jonathan, I’m your fiancée. Have you ever thought about my feelings?” He turned his head, avoiding my gaze, his voice dripping with impatience. “I’ve already said it’s just a few days to take care of her. Can you stop being so petty?” Petty? In an instant, my heart shattered, and I completely lost control. I shouted at him. “Go ahead then. Once you’re gone, don’t bother coming back!” He held the pocket watch up in front of me, playing with it absentmindedly as he spoke softly to calm me. “Wanda, don’t say such things. How could I not come back? I still have to marry you. Now, be a good girl and get some sleep.” I didn’t know where his confidence came from, thinking I would still end up with him. Suddenly, a wave of dizziness hit me, and I realized he had started the hypnosis. I wanted to fight it, but my eyelids grew heavier and heavier. Soon, my consciousness sank into darkness.

I felt like I had just woken from a long dream, my head pounding. In that dream, I was back to the first time I met Jonathan. He was wearing a black tailcoat and standing on stage playing the violin. Under the lights, he looked angelic, his features sharp and clear, like he had fallen from heaven. I stood below the stage, excitedly shouting his name. That day, Jonathan’s name was carved deeply into my heart. Then, the scene changed. Yolanda walked towards me, holding Jonathan’s arm. “Jonathan only loves me. You’ve lost!” Fragments of broken memories pulled and twisted inside my head, and my brain felt like it was about to explode with pain. With a sharp scream, I woke up. I lay on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, tears soaking my pillow. It then hit me. I hadn’t lost my memory. I couldn’t believe he could be so cruel. The thought of revenge surged in my mind. Why should he be allowed to leave me for another woman when I couldn’t do the same? The wedding had already been planned, and the invitations were sent out. If I showed up on the wedding day with a different groom, Jonathan would become the laughingstock of the entire city. With that thought in mind, I put on some makeup, picked out a mermaid-style dress from the wardrobe, and took a taxi to the nightclub. The deafening music in the bar made me feel a little disoriented. This was my first time at a place like this, and after searching for a while, I finally spotted Raymond. He was wearing a white shirt, his legs crossed on the table, his hands resting on the sofa, his eyes half-closed. “Mr. Baldwin, why are you drinking alone? How about I join you?” When Raymond heard my voice, he slowly opened his eyes. When he saw me, his expression was full of surprise. “Aren’t you busy preparing for your wedding? What brings you to a place like this?” I took the drink from the table and finished it in one go, replying, “I broke up with him.” Raymond raised an eyebrow at the word “break up” and then teased, “Oh? Did he and Yolanda get back together and dump you?” “I dumped him.” Raymond’s gaze sharpened. “So, what’s your plan now? What do you want from me?” “My wedding still needs a groom. Want to consider marrying me?” “Ms. Norman, you’re something else. Everyone knows there’s bad blood between Jonathan and me. If I take the woman he doesn’t want, it’ll be the biggest joke in the city!” Raymond built his empire from the ground up, while Jonathan was the classic rich second generation. The two of them had always been at odds, never liking each other. I had already guessed he would refuse, but I still wanted to take a gamble. I leaned forward, placing my hands on the couch, giving him a seductive look, my voice dripping with charm. “I’m still engaged to him. He’s been hypnotizing me while secretly seeking out his first love, planning to come back and continue our wedding. “If the groom is switched on the wedding day, Jonathan will definitely become the laughingstock of the entire city. Don’t you find that interesting, Mr. Baldwin?” His eyes were locked on me, full of anger. “You want to use me to get back at him? “Wanda Norman, what do you take me for?” Seeing his anger, I pushed his buttons even more. “I heard that the Baldwin Group lost a major deal to the Kelley family last week. Doesn’t that piss you off? “Seems like you are nothing but a coward who swallows his frustration, Mr. Baldwin. If that’s the case, then I’ll just leave.” After saying that, I noticed he didn’t respond, and I couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed, realizing I had overestimated myself. I turned to leave, but he suddenly grabbed me and pulled me back into his arms, his fingers tilting my chin to look into my eyes. “Are you that impatient?” I was a little taken aback. Did he just agree? Before I could ask him what he meant, he whispered in my ear. “Wanda, in my dictionary, there’s no such thing as divorce, only widowhood. “We can get married, but we have to get the certificate. Think it through carefully.” I froze for a moment, recalling what my best friend had said before. She told me Raymond was a notorious workaholic, uninterested in emotional matters, and had no rumors about him at all. Some even wondered if he was into men. Now that he was saying this, I was a bit lost. I had only wanted to use him to humiliate Jonathan, but he was taking it seriously. Seeing I hadn’t responded, he sneered. “What? Are you scared?” There was already a fire burning inside me, and his words only stoked it further. The alcohol made my feelings bubble up even more. Looking at his sharply defined face, I leaned in and kissed him, wrapping my arms around his neck. His lips were cool and soft. “Wanda, you’re the one who came on to me.”

He lifted me up and walked toward the door, opening it and gently placing me inside the car. The car sped along and soon stopped in front of a villa. Once we were inside, he laid me on the bed and immediately hovered over me. To be honest, I was a little nervous. I had been with Jonathan for so long, but we had never crossed any boundaries. This was the first time I had been this close to a man, and my whole body was tense. Raymond seemed to sense my unease. He leaned in, whispering in my ear. “Relax, don’t be nervous. I’ll teach you how to do this.” His warm breath tickled my neck, sending electric shivers down my spine. Then, he kissed me. At first, I was uncomfortable. But with his lead, I slowly began to lose myself in the moment. He didn’t stop until morning. I was completely exhausted, and in my dazed state, I thought I heard him say something. “Wanda, I’ve finally got you.” When I woke up, my body felt like it had been shattered. The scattered clothes around us were a clear sign of just how intense the night had been. While I was lost in thought, the door suddenly opened. Raymond walked in, carrying a glass of milk. I reached out to take it. But I noticed his gaze was fixed on my wrist. Looking down, I saw the marks from where he had gripped me. He held my hand, his eyes red, his voice full of concern. “What happened? Did he hurt you?” When I saw his worried expression, a warm feeling washed over me. I smiled, trying to sound casual. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.” But when Raymond heard me say that, his gaze grew darker, and his face slowly turned serious. He let go of my hand and walked out of the room. I stood there, unsure of what had just happened or where I’d gone wrong. But before long, I saw him walk back in with a first aid kit. He knelt down in front of me, dipped a cotton swab in alcohol, and gently started disinfecting the wound. When I saw how serious he looked, my heart suddenly softened. I hadn’t felt cared for in such a way for a long time. When I had severe cramps during my period a while back, I called Jonathan, hoping he would bring me some painkillers. He’d told me, “All women have cramps. Why are you being so dramatic?” Since then, I have never expected his care again. Tears started to well up in my eyes, and they fell one by one. When Raymond saw me crying, he seemed a bit lost. “Why are you crying? Did I hurt you?” I shook my head, choking up as I asked. “Do you think I’m being dramatic right now?” “No.” He pulled me into his arms, cupped my face gently, and kissed away my tears. With a serious look, he said. “Wanda, you have every right to be dramatic with me. My shoulder will always be here for you to lean on, and I won’t let you shed a single tear.” I looked at him through tearful eyes, whispering, “Okay.” We went to City Hall and quickly completed the paperwork. Holding the marriage license in my hand, I still felt a bit dazed… I had actually married Jonathan’s sworn enemy. Raymond waved his hand in front of my face, concern in his voice. “Wanda, what’s wrong? What are you thinking about?” My thoughts snapped back, and I sighed a little. “It just feels… so sudden. Like I’m dreaming.” Raymond pulled me into his arms and kissed me passionately. He didn’t let go until I could barely breathe. Looking at me with a possessive expression, he said. “Do you regret it? Regret won’t change anything. From now on, you’re mine and only mine.” After we left City Hall, he took me to a newly opened exotic restaurant. We entered the dining hall, and he called the waiter over to order a platter of grilled shrimp, sweet-glazed ribs, and beef cheese rolls. Then he turned to the waiter and added, “Oh, and no spices, please.” I looked at him in confusion. “How did you know I like these dishes and that I don’t like spices?” He smiled faintly. “It is just some things I need to pay attention to really understand.” Tears gathered in my eyes again as I thought about how, when I was with Jonathan, he never cared about my food preferences. I liked exotic dishes, while he preferred local cuisine. I was always the one adjusting to him. But in just a few short days with Raymond, he had already become so thoughtful and attentive. So, this was what it felt like to be cared for. After dinner, we returned home. He went to his study to work while I took a shower and lay down on the bed. Just then, a video from a friend popped up on my phone.   In the video, Jonathan was kneeling on one knee, holding out a ring to propose to Yolanda. The people around them cheered, “Say yes, say yes!” Yolanda, blushing, nodded shyly, and he slid the ring onto her finger. The two of them shared a passionate kiss. As I watched this, my heart didn’t stir at all. I was about to close my phone when Raymond walked in. He saw the video on my screen, and his face immediately darkened. He tilted my chin up, his voice low and firm as he warned me. “I won’t allow my wife to have feelings for another man.” His possessive, yet slightly hurt, gaze melted my heart. I instinctively wrapped my arms around his neck, gazing back into his eyes. “The moment we registered our marriage, I completely let go of him,” I said softly. “I’m just grateful. If it weren’t for him, I might never have woken up. Otherwise, I would never have met someone as wonderful as you.” Before I could finish, he leaned down and kissed me passionately, our fingers intertwining as if he wanted to pull me into his very being, claiming me completely. In the haze of the kiss, all I could hear was him repeatedly whispering in my ear. “You’re mine. You belong to me and only me.” The next few days, Raymond and I went to choose the wedding dress and rings, preparing everything for the ceremony. We lived like newlyweds, sharing a life together. Raymond treated me so well that I suddenly felt like maybe my impulsive decision back then wasn’t such a bad thing. Soon enough, the big day arrived. I sat in front of the mirror, looking at myself in the wedding dress with delicate makeup, still in disbelief that I was about to get married. I had imagined so many times what it would be like to wear a beautiful wedding dress and say, “I do” to Jonathan. But I never imagined that just a few days later, everything would change so completely. It was Jonathan’s coldness that had snapped me out of it. If it weren’t for him, I probably wouldn’t have ended up with Raymond so soon. Lost in thought, I barely noticed when the host outside the door called out for the ceremony to start. With the sound of music playing, I stood up, lifted my dress, and walked towards the wedding stage. The past was now just a distant memory. The things that once mattered would eventually fade. One had to look ahead. I truly believed that the future would only get better. Just then, the doors to the hall opened, and Jonathan hurriedly entered, dressed in a black suit. He stood at the door, panting, clearly having rushed over from Yolanda’s place. One of his friends stepped forward, anxious. “Why are you only just getting here? If you’re any later, it’ll be too late.” Jonathan gave a careless smile. “What’s there to worry about? Even if I’m a few minutes late, Wanda will wait for me. I’ve stood her up so many times before, and didn’t she always come back and cheer me up?” “Right, you really have her under control.” “Alright, keep this conversation between us. Don’t go spreading it around!” “Of course, don’t worry. I’ve got your back, bro.” At that moment, the host took the microphone and announced, “Now, let’s welcome the groom to the stage.” Jonathan adjusted his bow tie, smiling as he took his first step. Just then, Raymond, dressed in a tuxedo, passed by him, walking directly onto the stage and taking my hand.

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There was a fire at home. As a firefighter, my husband was the first to rescue our son and the kitten from his first love. In a rush to calm his panicked first love, he hurried out. When the other firefighters asked if anyone else was still inside, our son glanced in my direction and shook his head. “There’s no one else.” Later, I was rescued, but in critical condition. My son waited outside my hospital room, his face full of regret. “Why didn’t you just die in there? If you’d died, Cece could be my mom.” ***** When I heard those cruel words come from my son’s innocent voice, I couldn’t help but shake with disbelief. “Theo Latham, I’m your mother! How could you say that to me?” Theo, whose face looked almost exactly like my husband Victor’s, showed a flash of disgust. “So what if you’re my mom? You’ve never been good to me! I wish you’d just die already so Dad could marry Cece.” He snorted, pressing his hand hard on the wound in my abdomen. Five years ago, I gave birth to him, and the pain nearly tore me apart, leaving a long scar on my belly. Five years later, he pressed his hand onto the same spot. Watching me twist in pain, he smiled, clearly satisfied. “This is your punishment. Cece could’ve been Dad’s wife! I’m going to see Muffin now. You stay here, you evil woman!” With that, Theo turned and left. I was left alone in the sterile hospital room. I stared at the white ceiling, the pain still eating at me. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the ache in my heart. I overheard nurses whispering as they passed by. They said how sorry they felt for me—alone in my hospital bed, with no family, not even a caregiver. Yeah, I was pitiful. What did I really get out of these seven years with Victor? Neither he nor Theo—my own son, the one I’d struggled to bring into this world—cared more about Celeste Harper than me. In their eyes, I didn’t even rank higher than Celeste’s cat Muffin. During the fire, I protected Theo and ended up trapped under a collapsed bookshelf. Victor, the fire captain, ignored the warnings of his teammates and rushed in to save us. But he didn’t even look at me as he carried Theo, unharmed, and the cat Celeste left at our house. They all left the scene without a second glance. I thought he would come back for me. I waited for rescue, but then I overheard Theo talking with the other firefighters. “Theo, your dad took the cat to the hospital. Is there anyone else still inside?” I was almost suffocating, smoke clouding my vision. But for some reason, Theo’s voice cut through clearly. “There’s no one else. You don’t need to go in.” Victor’s teammates praised him for being so mature. But as I lay there, a cold wave of dread washed over me. How could there be no one else? Theo had just been pushed away by me, barely missing the bookshelf. Why was he lying? The pressure in my chest intensified, and I screamed for help with whatever strength I had left. Finally, someone noticed me and I was saved, rushed to the hospital. But the son I had loved so deeply had just said he wished I were dead. Tears welled up in my eyes. Surviving that ordeal, I felt like everything clicked into place. What was meant to be wouldn’t be forced. I didn’t need Victor, and I didn’t need Theo.

I spent a full month in the hospital. I’d been trapped for so long that I suffered serious inhalation injuries and had to be intubated to clear my lungs. The pain from the burns was a new kind of torture every time they changed the dressings. A month felt like an entire year. But during all that time, neither Victor nor Theo had come to see me once. I tried not to care, but it stung when I saw other families reunited. The day I was discharged, the sun hit me, and for a moment, I felt dizzy. I thought back to when Victor and I first met. The weather that day was just like today—perfect. We were set up by friends of our parents. He was a firefighter, and I was a teacher. He was an only child, and so was I. He liked peace and quiet, enjoyed reading, while I was happy staying home watching movies and tending to my garden. It felt like fate. We had endless conversations, found so much in common, and naturally, we ended up together. But on our wedding day, I saw a message on Victor’s phone from someone named “Cece.” Cece texted: [Congrats. You got what you wanted.] Victor stared at it for a long time. At the time, I thought nothing of it. I assumed she was just a close friend who couldn’t make it to the wedding. That was why Victor looked so distracted. But it wasn’t until this year, when she came back from studying abroad and Victor was crying out her name after meeting her at a school reunion, that I realized how naive I’d been. I went into a frenzy, digging into their past. Celeste was Victor’s first love. Their relationship had been passionate, and intense. He was quiet, and studious, while she was spoiled and rebellious. In school, Celeste had barely scraped by. Victor came from a poor family. Their hobbies were worlds apart. But somehow, against all odds, they made it through high school and university together. Until Celeste went abroad for grad school and broke up with him. After two years, Victor met me. The message Celeste sent—about him getting what he wanted—was her response to their breakup. Victor had told her that he wouldn’t wait for her, and that he’d marry someone more suitable for him. And I was that someone. When I found out all of this, it felt like my heart was being slowly sliced apart. If this had happened before, I probably would’ve gotten a divorce, unable to deal with such a tainted love. But looking at my son, still in elementary school, I stayed silent. I let the weight of all this emotional dust settle deep inside me.

I got in the car, and headed back to the house. It wasn’t the one that burned down. It was the other house—the one that hadn’t been destroyed in the fire. When Victor and I got married, his family bought us a house, and mine bought another one. The one that burned down was Victor’s house. But I didn’t expect, when I turned the key and opened the door, to see not Victor and Theo… But Celeste, wearing my pajamas and acting like she owned the place. “I thought Victor was back.” She pouted, muttering under her breath, then slipped on my slippers, and walked back to the living room. That was when I saw it—the home I’d carefully picked out, the one I’d put my heart and soul into decorating, now in complete disarray. The white carpet that I’d always kept spotless was stained with oil. I didn’t ask her why she was there. The answer was obvious. Who else but the father and son—who practically worshipped Celeste—would do something like this? But not asking didn’t stop some people from wanting to show off. Celeste lay back on my sofa, munching on chips, crumbs falling into the crevices, and she didn’t even bother to clean up. I frowned slightly, but she just found it amusing. “Can’t stand it, can you? But your husband and son both love my carefree style. Naomi, do you know what they say about you? You’re only in your thirties, but you act like an old lady. With your personality, how could anyone like you? It’s even worse now, isn’t it? I heard your skin’s all burned up?” As she said this, she grinned and started to lift my shirt. I quickly pulled away, but she still caught a glimpse of the scars. The gruesome, terrifying marks made this spoiled rich girl take a step back, and before she could steady herself, she fell to the ground. “Cece, Dad and I brought Muffin back!” Theo came in just then, holding the kitten. He saw the scene and immediately put the cat down, rushing to stand in front of Celeste like a hero. “You evil woman! You were trying to hurt Cece again!” He had cat fur all over him. As soon as he came close, I could barely breathe. I quickly grabbed some antihistamines from my bag. Just as I was about to take a pill, Theo jumped up and snatched the bottle from my hand. “Apologize to Cece, or I’m not giving you your medicine!” I stared coldly at this child I carried for nine months and gave birth to. Theo was a preemie. When he was born, he was tiny, and he’s always been physically weak, and prone to illness. I lost count of the times I’d taken him to the hospital. Later, under the doctor’s guidance, I strictly controlled his diet and even made him go out and exercise. Since Celeste came back, she’d clearly been filling his head with nonsense. He was just a grade-schooler, yet he’d started saying I took away his freedom. At first, I thought he was just talking nonsense, but after the fire, I realized he truly hated me. I wish I could turn back time and not have brought him into this world. I didn’t do as Theo expected and groveled at Cece’s feet. Instead, I pulled out a fresh pack of pills from my bag, gave him a mocking glance, and swallowed one. Theo froze for a moment and then lunged at me, trying to hit me. If this had happened before, maybe I would have stood there, letting him take out his frustration on me, knowing he was weak. But now, all I had to do was give him a light shove, and Theo was on the floor. “With this little strength, you think you can play the hero?”   Theo didn’t react with the same anger as before. Instead, he stared at me, looking a bit confused. After all, before this, I never even raised my voice at him, let alone laid a hand on him. If he’d gotten a scratch, I’d be a wreck. “You pushed me? How could you push me?” His face was full of confusion and hurt. Celeste quickly grabbed a box of chicken tenders. “Don’t argue with this kind of person, Theo. Here, have some chicken tenders. Don’t be upset.” “Hmph, Cece’s the best!” Theo grabbed the tenders from her hand and started eating with gusto. But his eyes kept darting back to me, as if waiting for my reaction. Theo had a weak stomach, and I rarely let him eat junk food like this. But I didn’t care anymore. I shot him a cold glance and turned to leave. Just as I was heading out the door, I ran into Victor, who was carrying bags of snacks and fruits from the store. He seemed surprised to see me here and froze for a moment. Theo, sensing his chance, ran to him and started tattling. “Dad, you’re finally back! When I opened the door, I saw her she push Cece down, and now she’s pushing me! I don’t want her as my mom anymore. Can you divorce her and let Cece be my mom?” Celeste stood by, watching me with a smug expression. “Your temper’s getting worse! So what if you got hurt in the fire? You’ve already been discharged from the hospital. Cece’s going through a hard time at home, dealing with depression, and she’s alone. Why do you have to make things harder for her? Can’t you be a little kinder?” I didn’t look at Victor, but my gaze fell on the bags in his hands. I’d asked him so many times to help me buy things around the house because I couldn’t carry them myself, but he always made excuses. “Too busy with work,” he’d say, or “I’m too tired” when he had a day off. It wasn’t a matter of time or strength. He just didn’t want to do it. A bitter smile tugged at my lips, and I didn’t know if I’d just triggered something in Victor. His expression darkened. “Apologize to Cece!” He ordered, just like so many times before. I couldn’t help but reflect on how I’d always let him call the shots. I flexed my wrist and swung my arm, slapping Victor across the face. Victor stood there, stunned. Theo and Celeste were both frozen in shock. None of them had expected me to hit Victor. “We’re getting a divorce. The kid stays with you. I don’t want him.” I walked out the door without looking back. But I could still hear them behind me. “Victor, don’t get mad. She’s just throwing a tantrum.” “Yeah, yeah, she wouldn’t be giving up custody if she really wanted a divorce. If only she’d actually divorce you, Cece could finally be my mom.” I smiled to myself. She would be.

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My always-healthy husband swallowed pills and took his own life at home. My sister barged into the ribbon-cutting ceremony like a mad woman, dragging me away and telling me to hurry up and go see my husband one last time. I had the security escort her out and then calmly release the balloons in my hand to celebrate the opening of the new store. In my past life, when I heard the news, I rushed home without even attending the ribbon-cutting ceremony, only to find my husband already covered with a white sheet, his body lifeless. My father and sister brought out “evidence”, accusing me of domestic abuse, claiming I pushed my husband to death, and they sued me. With both witnesses and evidence, even though the court ruled that I was not guilty, the internet turned on me, and everyone believed that I had driven him to suicide. I became the poster child for “the evil woman” and, in the end, I was killed by a self-proclaimed “hero” with mental issues and stabbed to death in the middle of a busy street. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my husband took his own life. ***** “Andrea, Logan committed suicide at home. You need to come with me. Hurry. You might still make it to see him one last time,” my sister, Nora Bennett, said, pushing her way through the crowd to drag me to leave. I shook her off. “Can you not make a scene? We’re in the middle of a ceremony. Just behave for a minute, and I promise I’ll buy you that car you’ve been eyeing, okay?” Nora was panicked, her face pale with urgency. “I’m not lying! Logan really killed himself! You need to come with me now!” “Stop talking nonsense. I was just talking to him three hours ago. He was perfectly fine at home. There’s no way he would have committed suicide. Stop causing trouble. Security, get her out of here,” I snapped. The security guards, now with my permission, dragged Nora away despite her protests. I released the balloons in my hand to celebrate the store opening as well as my new lease on life. In my past life, on this exact day, I had been rushing around to get the new store’s opening ceremony ready. And just like now, Nora had barged in, telling me that my husband had taken his life and I needed to go home right away. I panicked, leaving the ceremony before it even started and rushing back. But when I got home, all I saw was my husband’s body, covered by a white sheet. I collapsed to the floor in tears, shouting at him for being so cruel, for leaving me behind alone. But Nora, who had just moments ago been comforting me, suddenly turned cold. She grabbed me, telling me to stop pretending, accusing me of acting. I stood frozen, unsure of what was happening. She said she’d seen the bruises on Logan more than once, and with tears, she explained that Logan had been depressed and that I should have just divorced him to set him free. The people around us, not knowing the truth, believed Nora’s words, calling me vicious and heartless. At that moment, my father showed up. I looked at him with hope, praying that he would defend me, that he would speak up for me. But instead, he looked at me with disappointment. “I told you a thousand times, treat Logan better. But you never listened. Every time something went wrong, you took it out on him. “I raised you not to compare yourself to others, but you were always eyeing your friends’ husbands, thinking Logan wasn’t good enough. You beat him every day, verbally and physically. “Now, Logan is dead because of you, and you’re crying like you lost a pet. What’s this, regret? Regret that you lost your punching bag?” His words were a tirade, and he painted me as a selfish, vain, and malicious woman. The crowd around us joined in the accusations. I couldn’t take the humiliation anymore, so I called the police to clear my name. But the investigation confirmed that Logan had indeed committed suicide. And they found a Twitter account on his backup phone, filled with years of notes detailing how I had abused him, how he had suffered in silence. Nora also produced a camera, claiming it was a package Logan had sent her before his death, asking her to show everyone my “true face”. The video was damning. It showed me from behind, violently attacking Logan. Forensic experts found signs of abuse and physical trauma all over Logan’s body. I was branded as a villain, an evil woman, and the online mob came after me. They sent me hateful messages, wishing for my death. A few days later, I was killed in the street by a self-righteous psychopath, who stabbed me repeatedly in broad daylight, with people cheering him on. The street was crowded, but no one tried to help me. Instead, they praised the killer, calling him a hero for “getting rid of scum”. I still didn’t understand why, in my past life, everything turned against me so quickly. Why did I end up completely abandoned by everyone?

Three hours after realizing I had been reincarnated, the first thing I did was push down the overwhelming emotions and call my husband on a video call. “Honey, where are you? The ribbon-cutting ceremony for the new store is about to start. I’ll pick you up so we can go together.” My husband was silent for a moment before replying, “I’m at home, having an online meeting with my colleagues. I probably won’t be able to join you. Why are you being so clingy today? Don’t worry. I’ll stay home and won’t go out hitting on anyone.” Worried that I might not believe him, he flipped the camera around, showing me he was indeed at home. “If something’s bothering you or if I’ve done something to upset you, just let me know. Don’t bottle it up.” He laughed brightly, “Silly, you’re the best wife in the world. I cherish you so much. How could I ever be mad at you?” His answer was warm and familiar, so natural it didn’t even seem forced. This video call didn’t ease my doubts. It only made them worse. At this moment, there were only three hours left before he would take his own life, yet he seemed completely normal—no sign of someone about to end it all. But why, three hours from now, would he make such a drastic decision? As I pondered this, my assistant called to remind me that the ceremony was about to begin. The assistant was one of the few people I trusted fully, and after some hesitation, I decided to downplay everything, telling her a little white lie about a “friend” and asking if she had any thoughts on the situation. She paused for a moment and then said, “Ms. Bennett, what if this whole thing is a setup targeting your friend? It’s possible that your friend’s father has been unhappy with them for a long time.” “No way,” I blurted out. My dad had always spoiled me, and for over 20 years, we’d had a close father-daughter relationship. He favored me more than he did Nora, so how could he ever have the heart to harm me? But my assistant’s words still made some sense. If my dad truly loved me the way he showed, then why, after Logan’s death in my past life, did he immediately accuse me of pushing Logan to suicide without giving me a chance to explain? Why did he throw me into a storm of public opinion and bring me to court? There was definitely something off about Logan’s death. But where was the problem? The details of my past life kept replaying in my mind as I tried to piece things together. It took me almost half an hour before I suddenly snapped out of my thoughts. I looked at the still-open video call screen and immediately turned to my assistant. “You don’t have to go to the ceremony. Go check something for me. If you get it done, I’ll give you a bonus.” The bonus was far more appealing than the ceremony. By the time I’d given my instructions, my assistant was full of energy, saying she’d get to the bottom of it. I took a car to the new store. The allure of money was powerful. In just an hour and a half, my assistant had gathered all the information. I looked at the documents in my hand, and my heart sank. I never imagined that my entire life so far had been built on lies. I quietly pulled my assistant aside. “There’s one more thing, but don’t let anyone else know.” After giving her my instructions, I returned to the ceremony, trying to block out my swirling thoughts and focus on preparing for the event.

By the time the ceremony ended, the news that Andrea Bennett, the famous businesswoman, had found her husband dead at home from a suicide had already gone viral. As a semi-public figure, our every move was scrutinized by people with ulterior motives, including competitors. Now that such a major incident had occurred, the crowd of onlookers had already gathered outside our door. Everyone was in perfect sync, holding up their phones to record videos or stream live. I clicked on the hottest live stream. Nora appeared on the screen. She was sitting on the floor, a white cloth covering Logan’s body in front of her. She said, “Logan, you were so stupid. You had the courage to kill yourself, but you didn’t have the guts to just run away. “It’s our fault. If I had told Andrea about how she liked to hit people and told you that I’ve been bullied by her all my life, maybe you wouldn’t have married her. You wouldn’t have lost your life so young.” She continued crying, “Dad, Andrea went too far this time. I told her Logan was dead and asked her to come see him one last time, but not only did she refuse, she had security kick me out. “She didn’t even care that Logan was her husband, the person she spent every day with. There wasn’t a single expression of sorrow on her face. How could anyone be so cold-hearted?” Nora’s words were barely finished before my dad walked into the frame. He looked at the camera, his teeth clenched, seething with anger. “Andrea, you ungrateful piece of crap, is your work really more important than Logan? Why didn’t you believe Nora when she told you Logan killed himself? Instead, you had her thrown out. “You pushed him to his death, and now, you won’t even come to see him one last time? How could you be so heartless? I don’t care where you are, but you better get your ass back here right now.” Nora’s crying had already stirred the anger of the livestream viewers, and now, with my dad’s words, the attacks grew even harsher. The comments exploded, calling me every kind of insult. The viewers were furious, and the crowd outside, even more enraged, began chanting curses, wishing death upon me. Seeing that the crowd was in the right mood, I drove back to the neighborhood. When I arrived, the place was surrounded, and there was no way in. As soon as I stepped out of the car, someone with sharp eyes recognized me. “That evil woman’s back! Get her!” The crowd’s fury erupted all at once. Things were thrown at me from all directions. Thankfully, my professional bodyguards had prepared for this. They opened two large umbrellas, shielding most of the attacks. “How dare she fend off? Look at her. She’s even wearing makeup!” “What a shameless bitch. Her husband just died, and she’s still decked out. Is she celebrating her husband’s death?” “Even a murderer would have more compassion than her!” The police arrived around the same time we did and immediately began setting up a perimeter to control the crowd. With their help, the crowd parted just enough for me to walk through with the officers. The moment I stepped in front of them, my dad rushed forward and slapped me hard across the face. He roared, “You piece of garbage, what did Logan ever do to deserve this? Why did you have to push him to the point of suicide? If I don’t get you thrown in jail today, I won’t be able to face Logan.” His voice was so full of anguish and pain that every word was charged with emotion, stirring up the crowd even further. Had it not been for the fact that I was the target of his fury, I would have joined in and cursed myself. After my dad finished, Nora, with a look of utter disappointment, turned to the police. “Sir, I want to file a report. I have evidence that proves Logan was driven to death. I hope you’ll uphold the law and arrest this evil woman.” Nora, standing right in front of the camera, showed the video she’d pre-recorded. She continued, “This is a package Logan sent me before he died. He told me to wait for the right moment to show it so everyone could see what kind of evil woman Andrea really is.” Over the past few hours, they had gathered enough evidence to build a strong case. Nora looked at me with a sneer. “You think Logan was some orphan with no one to fight for him? No! We’re his family. We’ve got witnesses and evidence. Just wait, Andrea. You’ll have to pay for what you’ve done.” And in front of the police, I did something that nobody expected.

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When my mom fell seriously ill, my husband, Callum Hart, who struggled with a low sperm count, promised he would find a way to help. I gave him all my savings. Pregnant and working late-night shifts as a delivery driver, I passed by a sales office one night and saw Callum—someone who should have been working just as hard as I was—hugging his childhood friend and splurging on a new apartment. “She really thinks I only make a little bit every month. I make twenty thousand dollars, but I told her I only make two thousand dollars. I’ll make sure every penny of my paycheck has a part for you.” I fought back tears as I grabbed at his sleeve, hoping to borrow some money to treat my mom. He swatted my hand away, clearly irritated. “I give you two thousand dollars a month. Isn’t it that enough? Are you wasting it all?” He ignored my desperate cries and walked away, even kicking the baby in my belly he had been dreaming of. Later, he kneeled on the floor, begging me to forgive him, but I was too heartbroken and disillusioned. I didn’t want him anymore. ***** “How could you be delivering this late? It’s already cold! You’re seriously this dumb?” In the pouring rain, I was stuck in traffic during rush hour, and I ended up being a minute late. The customer, furious, threw the entire order at me. All I could do was force a smile, apologizing and offering to compensate her. As I walked out of the building, drenched and looking like a mess, I noticed Callum—who should’ve been working just as hard as me—spending a fortune buying a new apartment for Elara Finch, who had just divorced. “She really thinks I only make a little bit every month. I make twenty thousand dollars, but I told her I only make two thousand dollars. She’s so dumb that she believed me and handed over all her savings, which is exactly why I can afford to buy you this apartment. I’ll make sure every penny of my paycheck has a part for you.” Elara buried her head in Callum’s chest, acting all shy. “Cal, you’re so good to me.” Callum looked incredibly smug. “With the bond we’ve had since we were kids, I’m gonna take care of you for the rest of your life now that you’ve divorced.” I stood there frozen, my eyelids twitching. The sauce on the edge of my hair fell into my eyes. Tears started to pour down my face. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The Callum who used to work overtime tirelessly to pay for my mom’s medical bills, was actually lying to me and buying an apartment for Elara. Shaking, I dialed Callum’s number. After a few hang-ups, he finally answered, clearly annoyed. I asked him when he’d come to the hospital to visit my mom, but he dismissed me with a half-hearted answer. “Honey, I’m working hard to earn money for your mom’s treatment. I really can’t make it to the hospital right now. And even if you care about your mom, you should try to understand my situation. Don’t keep calling me, okay? I need to focus on work.” Listening to the beeping of the phone, I felt as if a huge hand was squeezing my chest, choking my heart. Even now, he was still lying to me. I forced a bitter smile. Callum’s mother had once sacrificed her own life to save him from a fire. She had given him her oxygen mask, not caring about the risk of an explosion, and had pulled him to safety. She inhaled too much smoke and was left with severe health consequences. After Callum and I got married, my mom treated him like her own son. But I never imagined that, in the end, our years of shared struggles would only lead to misery, not happiness. My mom had saved a heartless, selfish man.

I trudged back home, feeling deflated, and looked around at our old, worn-down house that had been our home for over a decade. Just then, my phone buzzed again with a message from Callum. Callum: [Honey, I’ve got to work late at the office tonight. I won’t be coming home. Get some rest, okay?] I lowered my gaze, numb. After a long day, I didn’t even care whether the message was true. I swallowed my emotions and quickly prepared myself to head to the hospital to take care of my mom. Just as I was about to get on my scooter, my phone rang— it was my mom’s doctor. “Your mom’s condition has suddenly worsened, and she’s been rushed into surgery. Get here with the money as soon as you can!” My heart skipped a beat. I let go of the scooter handle, and the next thing I knew, I was on the ground, my knee scraped up badly. But I didn’t even feel the pain. All I could think about was calling Callum for some money. “Honey, my mom’s situation has worsened. Can you send me some more money?” There was a long pause on the other end, and I could tell he didn’t believe me. “I used up all the money last time we paid the bills. I don’t have anything left, honey. Your mom’s been lying in bed for so many years. You can’t let that drag us down. Maybe it’s time to just let go.” Even now, Callum was still lying to me. I felt like I was about to break. “Please, I know you still have money! Please, just send me some more! My mom is in surgery right now! If we can’t pay, she might not make it!” I heard Elara’s voice in the background, stirring trouble. “Cal, this woman is clearly using you. She’s always asking for money and doesn’t care about your health at all. You should stay away from these two bloodsuckers.” It felt like all the air in my lungs had been squeezed out of me. Working late? In the bedroom of the luxurious apartment he bought for Elara in the city? I scoffed bitterly, but then, remembering all the years Callum and I had spent together, I held on to a glimmer of hope and said, “Honey, I’m not lying. My mom’s really in danger. Please, just send me a little more money to help save her. Think about everything my mom did for you when you were a kid…” But before I could finish, Callum interrupted me with a shout of anger. “It was just your mom saving me from a fire! Isn’t that what any firefighter would do? How long are you going to guilt-trip me over that?” I couldn’t believe it—Callum actually thought like this. My voice trembled as I tried to explain, “That’s not what I meant…” But Callum snapped, “You always want money! Do you ever think about how I’m still stuck at the office working late? Even Ellie understands how hard I work and brings me lunch. But you? You’re out here delivering food to make a quick buck. You just embarrass me in front of my colleagues! Thalia, I’m so disappointed in you.” I stared at the “call ended” screen, trembling. I wiped my wet face and got back on my scooter, speeding into the night. I couldn’t tell if the wetness on my face was from sweat or tears. I only knew that the faster I went, the closer I was to my mom. I sat outside the operating room all night, barely breathing, until they moved my mom into the ICU. Only then did I let out a sigh of relief. “The surgical fees need to be paid quickly, and the follow-up treatments won’t be cheap.” Looking at my mom lying so quietly on the bed, I felt my body slide down onto the cold floor. I didn’t know how long I stayed there before I finally stood up and headed home. There was nothing left to do but this.

I pulled the property deed out of the safe. This house was a gift from my dad before he passed away. It was an old, run-down place, but the location was decent. If I sold it, I should be able to buy some time to deal with the urgent situation. But as I was heading out the door with the deed in my hand, I ran straight into Callum, who was coming home with Elara. “What’s that in your hand?” I told Callum the truth, explaining that I was planning to sell the house to save my mom. Elara, disgusted by my disheveled appearance, pinched her nose and wrapped her arm around Callum’s, saying, “Your mom just has a minor lung condition. What’s with selling the house to fix that? You’re clearly up to something, trying to sell Cal’s property to make life easier for yourself!” I ignored Elara, my mind set on getting to the hospital with the money as fast as possible. But seeing the doubt in Callum’s eyes, I knew he wouldn’t let me sell the house. I gave him a cold, resolute look and said, “Move aside. I have somewhere I need to be.” Just as I was about to push past him to leave, Callum grabbed my wrist. “Thalia, you’re crazy! Your mom just has a little lung condition. How much could it possibly cost? Why are you selling my house?” Shaking, I fumbled through my worn-out bag and pulled out my mom’s diagnosis report. I was about to hand it to Callum when he snatched it from my hands and ripped it to shreds. “Don’t try to fool me with this fake stuff! I’m telling you, I’m not letting you sell my house. I’ve taken care of you two for years, and now you want to sell my property? What’s really going on here?” Callum shoved me to the ground, and the sharp pain in the back of my head made me gasp. “You’re pretending again! You’re just delivering takeout. What’s so exhausting about that?” That was the last straw. My emotions snapped, and I screamed, “My mom’s dying of cancer! I’m selling the house my dad left me to save her life—what’s wrong with that?!” For a moment, Callum’s face went blank, taken aback. Seeing this, Elara quickly jumped in. “Cal, you’ve been with her for so long, and her mom was never seriously ill. How did she suddenly get cancer at this time? They’ve already taken so much from you over the years—maybe this is just another scheme to scam you for more money!” Elara’s words confirmed, in Callum’s eyes, that my mom and I were nothing more than bloodsuckers. Thinking back on all the money my mom’s treatments had cost, Callum’s expression darkened. “We’ve been married for years. You think I don’t know what’s going on with you and your mom? I hate liars like you! Go stay in the room and think about things. I’ll go verify the situation with your mom.” He locked the door behind him, ignoring my cries, and walked away. I collapsed in the corner, hands pressed together, praying desperately that my mom would be okay.   Later that night, Callum came home, holding takeout from the place I used to order from all the time. He knelt down and gently wiped away my tears, his eyes soft—though I couldn’t tell if it was real or just another act. “I didn’t mean to lose my temper with you earlier. I just thought, if you sold the house, we’d have nowhere to live, and your mom wouldn’t have a place to recover when she gets out of the hospital. Please, eat something. Then I’ll take you to see your mom, okay?” I rubbed my eyes, barely able to focus, and started shoveling the food into my mouth. It was like if I ate faster, my mom would get better sooner. “We’ll figure out the money,” Callum continued. “If I apply for a yearlong business trip, my salary will go up from two thousand dollars to six thousand dollars a month. We can manage.” I looked at him, disbelief flooding me. A yearlong business trip? Was he really going on a trip, or was this just an excuse to go be with Elara, who had just gotten divorced? “What’s the matter? You can’t bear to be apart from me?” I suppressed my emotions and shook my head. The priority was getting the money for my mom’s treatment, not worrying about whether or not Callum was cheating. As we sat in the car, I absentmindedly reached up to adjust the visor, hoping to look a little better. But when I opened it, a small note fell out. I immediately knew—it was Elara’s doing, reminding everyone that Callum’s passenger seat was hers alone. I bit my lip and carefully put the note back. Callum, seeing the note, just gave an awkward smile. “It’s from a previous Uber passenger. I was trying to raise money for your mom’s medical expenses. Don’t mind it.” I rubbed my throbbing temples, my head leaning against the window. After everything—his repeated lies—my heart was numb. I would trust him one more time. If he could lie about his salary to buy Elara an apartment, surely he’d pay my mom’s medical bills as her son-in-law. But just as the car stopped at the hospital, I received a message from my mom’s doctor. [Sorry, ma’am. Your mother didn’t make it. Despite efforts, we couldn’t save her.] At that moment, it felt like thunder had struck me. I froze, unable to move. Hearing my phone crash to the ground, Callum came over, confused. “What happened? Can’t even hold your phone straight? We are not able to afford a new phone.” Staring at Callum’s smug expression, my rage erupted. I slammed my fist into his chest. “My mom is dead! If you hadn’t locked me in the house, lied about your salary, and bought Elara an apartment, she wouldn’t have died!” Callum frowned. “How could that be? It’s just a mild case of pneumonia, right?” But then, the realization hit him, and he grabbed me by the collar, shouting, “You’ve been following me!” When he looked at my tear-streaked face, his anger flared even higher. “Answer me! Why the hell were you following me? I earned this money myself, and I have the right to spend it however I want! You two have taken so much from me over the years—how much more do you want? My every penny?!” I struggled, trying to break free and get to the hospital to see my mom one last time, but Callum’s grip was ironclad. “Trying to run away now that your lies have been exposed? I’m trying to do you a favor by taking you to the hospital, and you’ve been lying to me! You’ve really disappointed me. Now go back home and think about who’s in charge!” Desperate, I used all my strength to slap him. My eyes burning with fury, I glared at him and spat, “Callum Hart! I’ll hate you for the rest of my life!” Callum wiped the blood from his lips and slapped me back with a sharp crack. “Get back home and stay there!” he ordered. I refused, my fists flying in a wild frenzy. “Go back to your own house if you want, but I’m staying at the hospital to be with my mom! You want me to come home? Why? You and Elara’s shared home isn’t enough for you?” Furious, Callum kicked me hard. “How dare you insult Ellie?! You want to stay at the hospital? Fine, never come back!” With that, he got in the car and drove off, leaving me in the parking lot. I writhed in agony on the ground, a sharp pain searing through my abdomen. Then, a horrible realization dawned on me— My child was gone. I had planned to surprise Callum with the news, but instead, the child we had both eagerly awaited was lost because of him. Weakly, I crawled through the dimly lit underground parking lot, leaving a trail of blood behind me. All I could think about was seeing my mom one last time. But darkness surrounded me like the claws of a demon, and overwhelming grief and fear gripped my heart. “Callum Hart, I don’t want you anymore. Let’s get a divorce.”

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My parents were taken away by gangsters, who demanded one million dollars. They threatened to kill them immediately if I reported to the police. When I went to the bank to withdraw the money, I found that my account balance was down to single digits. The only person who knew the PIN to the card, besides me, was my husband, Lucas. I called him, but it wasn’t Lucas who answered. It was his first love, the one he could never forget. “Lucas is busy showing me houses right now. He’ll call you back later.” I called again, but this time, Lucas’ phone was switched off. That day, because I couldn’t pay the ransom in time, I lost my parents. And Lucas lost the only hope he had for a cure, an experimental drug that could save him from cancer. ***** “Ms. Rogers, if you don’t want anything to happen to your parents, we expect you to deliver the one million dollars to the location we specify by 6 PM today. “That’s all we’re asking for. Surely, the life of your parents isn’t worth more than that, right? “Don’t try anything funny. If you report this to the police, we can’t guarantee your parents’ safety,” The gangsters said. I watched the video sent by the gangsters. My elderly parents were bound tightly and thrown in a corner their lives uncertain. My eyes were red, as though blood was about to seep out. No wonder I hadn’t been able to reach them these past few days. I had assumed they were busy with their research, since they were so close to completing their work on the experimental drug. I never expected that they had been taken by gangsters. I wiped away my tears, my voice trembling as I spoke into the phone, “I’ll get the money to you. Please don’t hurt my parents.” On the other end, a chilling laugh echoed before the call was cut off. “Let’s see if you can prove your sincerity, Ms. Rogers.” As I rushed to the bank with the card to get the money, the teller handed it back to me with a look of regret. “I’m sorry, Miss, but there are insufficient funds on this card.” “How is that possible? There should be more than one million dollars in my account! Please, I’m really in a hurry. I need this money.” The teller hesitated but then checked again. She reluctantly told me that the balance on the card was only about seven dollars. I suddenly realized that besides me, the only other person who knew the PIN was Lucas. So, I immediately called him. It took a while for the phone to connect, but before I could say anything, a frustrated woman’s voice came through the speaker. “Lucas is busy with me showing houses. He’ll call you back when he can. Goodbye.” And then the line went dead with a beep. I was going crazy. I didn’t have time to think about who this woman was. I quickly called again, but this time, his phone was switched off completely. No matter how many times I tried, the same dead tone greeted me.

I collapsed onto the ground, my fingernails digging into my palms in a desperate attempt to calm myself down. During this time, I finally remembered who the woman on the phone had been. Her name was Mandy, Lucas’ college classmate and the one he had never stopped thinking about. A while ago, Mandy had divorced her husband and moved with her child to our city, where she and Lucas had reconnected. Lucas, feeling sorry for Mandy as a single mother, had been helping her both emotionally and financially. He had even offered to help cover the cost of a house she had her eye on in a nearby neighborhood. But since our savings also included the money that I had saved for a future home, I refused to let Lucas give her any money. Now, reflecting on the fact that Lucas had accompanied Mandy to see the house, I could almost confirm that it was Lucas who had taken the money from our account. With this realization, I scrambled to my feet and rushed out the door, hailing a taxi to take me to the real estate office where Lucas had mentioned Mandy had found a place. During the ride, I prayed that I could get the money back, not only because it was critical to saving my parents but also because my parents had made groundbreaking progress in the research of a cancer cure. Once this drug was ready, it could save millions of people, including Lucas. Yes, Lucas had been suffering from chronic stomach pain for a long time. At first, he didn’t pay much attention to it, but when I secretly went to get his medical check-up report, I found out that he was already in the late stages of stomach cancer. Fearing that telling him would make his condition worse, I had kept it from him, hoping that the miracle drug my parents were working on could save him. When I arrived at the real estate office, I spotted Lucas and Mandy standing close together, chatting intimately. As soon as he heard me call his name, Lucas turned around. After a brief moment of eye contact, impatience flickered in his eyes. “I told you, I’m busy. Can’t you understand?” I didn’t have time to argue with him about his attitude; I rushed over to demand the money. “Lucas, give me back the money on the card. It’s urgent!” Lucas pulled his hand away from mine and looked at me with disgust. “I’ve already used it. I just paid for the house.” I was so furious I almost shouted, “Then, return the house and give me my money back!” At that moment, Mandy walked over and stood in front of Lucas, giving me a disapproving look. “Ms. Rogers, Lucas is only trying to help us. He’s a kind man. Don’t make it harder for him.” Seeing Mandy’s defense of him, Lucas grew even more annoyed. “The money’s been spent. It can’t be refunded. Mandy and her son have it tough, too. Can’t you show a little empathy and stop causing a scene?”

I watched the time slip away, my heart growing more anxious by the second. I looked at Lucas with pleading eyes and said, “Please, I’m desperate. I really need this money. If we don’t hurry, my parents… they’ll be dead.” Lucas chuckled bitterly, clearly angry, “Enough, Nicole. To get the money back, you’re even willing to curse your parents? You’ve lost your mind.” Mandy, who had been quiet until then, spoke up, “Ms. Rogers, I know you’re reluctant to part with the money, but don’t worry. I’ll find a way to pay you back soon. Just stop saying things like that. Your parents will be heartbroken if they hear you.” “It’s true,” I said, my voice trembling as I broke down in tears. “My parents were taken away. The gangsters want a million dollars for their release. If I don’t pay, they’ll…” My sobs choked me, and I could barely finish the sentence. Lucas froze, his expression shifting. Doubt flashed in his eyes as if he was questioning the truth of what I’d said. Seeing that he seemed to be listening, Mandy grew more impatient. She tugged at his sleeve and said, “You’re not actually believing this, are you? Gangsters? What is this, some kind of movie?” Lucas snapped out of it and shot me a look full of contempt. Desperate, I grabbed his arm. “I’m not lying. Please, believe me, just this once. Please. I’ll never get involved in your life again, never bother you or Mandy after this. Just help me save my parents. “Even if you have to divorce me and be with her, it doesn’t matter.” Hearing that, Lucas immediately yanked his arm away from me, a mocking smirk on his face. He sneered, “In the end, it’s still about how much I’ve done for Mandy. You’re just looking for a poor excuse to take the money back. Well, it’s already been paid, and I’m not giving it back. You can forget about it. “As for your parents being taken away, what does that have to do with me? Go to the police.” Without another word, he turned and wrapped his arm around Mandy, preparing to leave. I cried out after him, “Don’t you know you have cancer? Only my parents can save you!” He scoffed and continued walking, not even bothering to look back. I dragged my exhausted body to the sales office, clinging to the last bit of hope. I found the person in charge and explained that Lucas had used our joint assets to buy a house for another woman. I demanded the money be returned. The person behind the desk looked at me helplessly and shrugged. “Miss, this is a tricky situation. The money has already been paid, and the deed is in that young lady’s name. If you need help, you’ll have to go to the police.” On my way to the police station, one of the gangsters called again. This time, his tone was growing more impatient. “Ms. Rogers, there’s less than three hours left. Our patience is running out. I hope you’ll deliver the money soon.” I hurriedly sobbed into the phone, “I’m almost there! Just give me a little more time, please!” “We’ve seen you’re heading to the police station. Looks like you don’t want your parents to live,” the gangster snapped. I hurriedly tried to explain, “No, it’s not like that. My husband took all the money, and I was going to the police to get it back. I never intended to…” Before I could finish, the call abruptly ended. I tried calling back, but no one answered.   Now, all I could do was hope that the gangsters had listened to me, that they believed I was only going to the police to raise the money. After hearing my story, the police quickly contacted Lucas and Mandy, demanding that they return the money. I guess they never expected I would go straight to the police like this, but under pressure, Lucas reluctantly returned the money. Even as he handed it over, he spat out a cruel threat, saying I should go home and prepare for a divorce. I ignored him, swiftly took the money, and ran to the location the gangsters had given me. When I arrived at the abandoned factory on the outskirts, I glanced at my phone, my heart sinking as I saw it was already 6:10 p.m. And the gangster’s number was no longer reachable. Clinging to the last shred of hope, I stepped into the factory and knocked on the heavy iron door. The dust that rose from the floor made me cough violently. I peered inside urgently and saw the emptiness that made my heart drop further. I scanned the room, and then I saw two familiar figures in the corner. “Dad! Mom!” I cried out, rushing over in desperation, trying to wake them. But the gangsters, after all, were ruthless. They had no mercy. They hadn’t received the money in time, and they had already gone to work on my parents. My father and mother had deep cuts on their necks, blood pouring from them. My mother was already gone. My father, seeing me, mustered the last of his strength and managed to force a weak smile before collapsing completely into the pool of blood. At that moment, my heart died with them. I numbly knelt in front of them, trying to use my hands to stop the bleeding, but it was hopeless. In the end, I broke down, clutching them, unable to control my tears. At that moment, I no longer cared about anything. I grabbed my phone and dialed the police. After the police arrived and gathered the information, they tried to comfort me, while asking for more details about the gangsters. In the days that followed, I moved back and forth between my house and the police station, desperate to help catch the people who had harmed my parents. Once the police had gathered all the clues, they told me to return home and wait for updates. I began making arrangements for my parents’ funeral. During this time, Lucas never returned home, and I didn’t try to contact him, either. It wasn’t until the day of the funeral that Lucas finally came back. When he saw the house full of mourning attire, he frowned and asked, “What’s going on? Why all this gloom? It’s so… forget it, let’s not talk about that. Do you still have any money? Mandy’s forgiven you for the scene you caused the other day because of me, but she’s looking to buy another place. “This time, to make up for it, you’re going to have to contribute a little. It’ll show you have some sincerity.”

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